for a' o's, Maggy, my doo, gin he war to close his een to oor sins,
an' ca' us just in his sicht, whan we cudna possibly be just in oor
ain or in ony ither body's, no to say his."

"The Lord preserve's, Dawvid Elginbrod! Dinna ye believe i' the
doctrine o' Justification by Faith, an' you a'maist made an elder
o'?"

Janet was the respondent, of course, Margaret listening in silence.

"Ou ay, I believe in't, nae doot; but, troth! the minister, honest
man, near-han' gart me disbelieve in't a'thegither wi' his gran'
sermon this mornin', about imputit richteousness, an' a clean robe
hidin' a foul skin or a crookit back. Na, na. May Him 'at woosh
the feet o' his friens, wash us a'thegither, and straucht oor
crookit banes, till we're clean and weel-faured like his ain bonny
sel'."

"Weel, Dawvid--but that's sanctificaition, ye ken."

"Ca't ony name 'at you or the minister likes, Janet, my woman. I
daursay there's neither o' ye far wrang after a'; only this is jist
my opingan aboot it in sma'--that that man, and that man only, is
justifeed, wha pits himsel' into the Lord's han's to sanctifee him.
Noo! An' that'll no be dune by pittin' a robe o' richteousness
upo' him, afore he's gotten a clean skin aneath't. As gin a father
cudna bide to see the puir scabbit skin o' his ain wee bit bairnie,
ay, or o' his prodigal son either, but bude to hap it a' up afore he
cud lat it come near him! Ahva!"