"It is a dear child," said Emma; "and perhaps, Mr. Graffam, it may please God to restore him to health, and he may grow up to bless the world." Graffam started. The idea that a child of his should grow up to bless the world seemed too marvelous; "and yet," thought he, "I was not made for a curse." "I hope that he may live," said the poor man sincerely; and wondered how that hope came, for formerly the child's life had been a matter of utter indifference to him. "If it please God," added Emma. "It has pleased God," said Graffam, "to lay three of my children beneath the sod, and perhaps it were better if they were all there, for we are----" "Are what, sir?" "Poor and despised, miss." "God does not despise the poor," said Emma. "When his Son came to live among men, the poor of this world were his chosen friends and companions." "Perhaps so," the poor man said, and turned his head mournfully away: "if poverty were all----" "He does not despise the _sinner_ either," said Emma, softly; "so far from that, he delivered his only Son unto death for their sake." Graffam lifted his eyes from the ground, and looked seriously into her face. "There was a time, miss," said he, "when that was a precious thought to me. Then to know that God was my friend, was enough, and I was happy; but that time is passed. I parted with his friendship to gain that of the world, and now I have lost, hopelessly lost all--all!" This was said in a tone of deep despair: so deep and sad, that it called tears of pity to Emma's eyes, as she earnestly replied,-- "O do not say that _his_ friendship is hopelessly lost, Mr. Graffam; for you know, sir, that he does not hate what the world hates. He hates nothing but sin, and even from that his great mercy separates the sinner, and makes him an object of love. Jesus, Mr. Graffam, is the _sinner's friend_." "Yes, miss," replied the poor man; though Emma saw that the faith of this great truth did not enter his heart. There was no room as yet for so pure a faith. The soul's great idol, whatever it be,--the "man of sin" sitting in the place of God,--must be dethroned before the Holy will enter in. Yet Emma's words stirred still more those powers of the soul which Graffam had felt that morning struggling franticly with their chains. There was a strange mixture of hope and despair in the expression of his countenance, as he turned away, bidding her a sad "good-morning."