For him to live had been
Christ, to die was gain. And he knew it.

"George Nobbs," said he, about four months after the arrival of the
former, "the Lord's ways are wonderful, past finding out, but always
sure and _safe_. Nothing puzzles me so much as my own want of faith,
when there's such good ground for confidence. But God's book tells me
to expect even that," he added, after a pause, with a faint smile.
"Does it not tell of the _desperately_ wicked and deceitful heart?"

"True, Mr Adams," replied his friend, with the term of respect which he
felt constrained to use, "but it also tells of salvation to the
_uttermost_."

"Ay. I know that too," returned Adams, with a cheery smile. "_Well_ do
I know that. But don't mister me, George. There are times when the
little titles of this world are ridiculous. Such a time is now. I am
going to leave you, George. The hour of my departure is at hand.
Strange, how anxious I used to feel! I used to think, what if I am
killed by a fall from the cliffs, or by sickness, and these poor
helpless children should be left fatherless! The dear Lord sent me a
rebuke. He sent John Buffett to help me. But John Buffett has not the
experience, or the education that's needful. Not that I had education
myself, but, somehow, my experience, beginnin' as it did from the _very_
beginnin', went a long way to counterbalance that. Then, anxious
thoughts _would_ rise up again. Want of faith, nothing else, George,
nothing else. So the Lord rebuked me again, for he sent _you_."

"Ah, father, I hope it is as you say. I dare hardly believe it, yet I
earnestly hope so."

"_I_ have no doubt, now," resumed Adams. "You have got just the
qualities that are wanted. Regularly stored and victualled for the
cruise. They'll be far better off than ever they were before. If I had
only trusted more I should have suffered less. But I was always
thinking of John Adams. Ah! that has been the great curse of my
life--_John Adams_!--as if everything depended on him. Why," continued
the old man, kindling with a sudden burst of indignation, "could _I_
have saved these souls by merely teaching 'em readin' and writin', or
even by readin' God's book to 'em? Isn't it read every day by thousands
to millions, against whom it falls like the sea on a great rock? Can
the absence of temptation be pleaded, when here, in full force, there
have been the most powerful temptations to disobedience continually? I