no debt, no fear, much love,
and between them, this being mostly Janet's, a large hope for what
lay on the other side of death: as to the rheumatism, that was
necessary, Janet said, to teach them patience, for they had no other
trouble. They were indeed growing old, but neither had begun to
feel age a burden yet, and when it should prove such, they had a
daughter prepared to give up service and go home to help them.
Their thoughts about themselves were nearly lost in their thoughts
about each other, their children, and their friends. Janet's main
care was her old man, and Robert turned to Janet as the one stay of
his life, next to the God in whom he trusted. He did not think so
much about God as she: he was not able; nor did he read so much of
his Bible; but she often read to him; and when any of his children
were there of an evening, he always "took the book." While Janet
prayed at home, his closet was the mountain-side, where he would
kneel in the heather, and pray to Him who saw unseen, the King
eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God. The sheep took no
heed of him, but sometimes when he rose from his knees and saw Oscar
gazing at him with deepest regard, he would feel a little as if he
had not quite entered enough into his closet, and would wonder what
the dog was thinking. All day, from the mountain and sky and
preaching burns, from the sheep and his dog, from winter storms,
spring sun and winds, or summer warmth and glow, but more than all,
when he went home, from the presence and influence of his wife, came
to him somehow--who can explain how!--spiritual nourishment and
vital growth. One great thing in it was, that he kept growing wiser
and better without knowing it. If St. Paul had to give up judging
his own self, perhaps Robert Grant might get through without ever
beginning it. He loved life, but if he had been asked why, he might
not have found a ready answer. He loved his wife--just because she
was Janet. Blithely he left his cottage in the morning, deep
breathing the mountain air, as if it were his first in the blissful
world; and all day the essential bliss of being was his; but the
immediate hope of his heart was not the heavenly city; it was his
home and his old woman, and her talk of what she had found in her
Bible that day. Strangely mingled--mingled even to confusion with
his faith in God, was his absolute trust in his wife--a confidence
not very different in kind from the faith