"You are doing all you can for me, but it is
useless."
"Christ has done more," he said. "His love for you passes ours
infinitely. Then if you have not wearied out ours, can you possibly
exhaust his? He can stoop to you in all your misery and sinfulness, if
you will but stretch out your hand toward Him. There is no sin He will
not forgive, and none He cannot conquer, if you will but rouse yourself
to work with Him. Against your own will He cannot save you."
"I will try," she murmured.
Yet time after time the same subject, almost in the same words, was
renewed. Sophy's enfeebled brain could not long retain the thought of a
divine love and power, which was ceaselessly though secretly striving to
reclaim her. There was no opportunity for her to exert her own will, for
she could not be tempted in her present circumstances, and the strength
gained by such an exertion was impossible to her. Again and again, with
untiring patience, did Mr. Chantrey give ear to her despairing
utterances, and meet them with soothing arguments. But often he felt
himself on the verge of despair, doubtful of the truths he was trying so
earnestly to implant again in her heart.
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