“There’s nothing else to care about, sir. If only the will of God be done, everything’s all right, you know. I do believe, sir, God cares more for me than my old woman herself does, and she’s been as good a wife to me as ever was. Young gentleman, you know who says that God numbers the very hairs of our heads? There’s not many of mine left to number,” he added with a faint smile, “but there’s plenty of yours. You mind the will of God, and he’ll look after you. That’s the way he divides the business of life.”
I saw now that my father’s talk as we came, had been with a view to prepare me for what John Jamieson would say. I cannot pretend, however, to have understood the old man at the time, but his words have often come back to me since, and helped me through trials pretty severe, although, like the old man, I have never found any of them too hard to bear.
“Have you no child to come and help your wife to wait upon you?” my father asked.
“I have had ten, sir, but only three are left alive. There’ll be plenty to welcome me home when I go. One of the three’s in Canada, and can’t come. Another’s in Australia, and he can’t come. But Maggie’s not far off, and she’s got leave from her mistress to come for a week—only we don’t want her to come till I’m nearer my end. I should like her to see the last of her old father, for I shall be young again by the next time she sees me, please God, sir. He’s all in all—isn’t he, sir?”
“True, John. If we have God, we have all things; for all things are his and we are his. But we mustn’t weary you too much. Thank you for your good advice.”
“I beg your pardon, sir; I had no intention of speaking like that. I never could give advice in all my life. I always found it was as much as I could do to take the good advice that was given to me. I should like to be prayed for in the church next Sunday, sir, if you please.”
“But can’t you pray for yourself, John?”
“Yes, sir; but I would like to have some spiritual gift because my friends asked it for me. Let them pray for more faith for me. I want more and more of that. The more you have, the more you want. Don’t you, sir? And I mightn’t ask enough for myself, now I’m so old and so tired. I sleep a great deal, sir.”
“Then don’t you think God will take care to give you enough, even if you shouldn’t ask for enough?” said my father.
“No doubt of that. But you see I am able to think of it now, and so I must put things in a train for the time when I shan’t be able to think of it.”