I thank you, Sir,--said the Little Gentleman;--permit me to ask you,
what makes you think I am not ready for it, Sir, and that you can do
anything to help me, Sir?
I address you only as a fellow-man,--said the divinity-student,--and
therefore a fellow-sinner.
I am _not_ a man, Sir!--said the Little Gentleman.--I was born into
this world the wreck of a man, and I shall not be judged with a race to
which I do not belong. Look at this!--he said, and held up his withered
arm.--See there!--and he pointed to his misshapen extremities.--Lay
your hand here!--and he laid his own on the region of his misplaced
heart.--I have known nothing of the life of your race. When I first
came to my consciousness, I found myself an object of pity, or a sight
to show. The first strange child I ever remember hid its face and would
not come near me. I was a broken-hearted as well as broken-bodied boy.
I grew into the emotions of ripening youth, and all that I could have
loved shrank from my presence. I became a man in years, and had nothing
in common with manhood but its longings.
Pages:
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350