“Well then, tell me, do you really think that at all times, and in all circumstances, God causes events that are disastrous to work out good?”
“Indeed I do,” returned Miss Millet, becoming very serious and earnest as she sat down opposite her young friend. “No doubt there is much of mystery connected with the subject but I can’t help that any more than I can help my beliefs. Of course we know, because it is written, that ‘all things work together for good to them that love God;’ but even in the case of those who do not love Him, I think He often sends sorrow and trouble for the very purpose of driving them out of trust in themselves, and so clearing the way to bring them to the Saviour. And is it not written, ‘Surely the wrath of man shall praise Thee?’”
The young man remained silent for a few moments.
“Well, now,” he said, “what think you of this case? The skipper whom we rescued this afternoon, along with his wife, told me that he has been reduced to beggary. He owned the vessel which now lies out on the rocks there, a total wreck. It was his last venture. He had put all that he possessed into it, and not a scrap of the cargo will be saved. Having been a lucky man all his life previously, he said he had determined to ‘chance his luck’ this time, and did not insure vessel or cargo: so that all is gone. His wife and several children are dependent on him. He has no relatives rich enough, or willing enough, to help him; and, poor fellow, he has received injuries while being rescued, which will probably render him helpless for the rest of his life. Now, do you think that good will come out of all that?”
“I am sure it will,” returned Miss Millet confidently, “and good to him too if he seeks it; though of course I know not how or when.”
“But why are you so sure?”
“Because, Jeff, it is written that God does not ‘afflict the children of men willingly.’ He does it for their good, and that good cannot fail of accomplishment, unless they refuse the good and choose the evil.”
Again Jeff became silent and thoughtful. “I have meditated much of late,” he said, “about Captain Millet’s adventure in China—”
“By the way,” interrupted Miss Millet, “that reminds me that the captain’s little girl Rose—Rosebud, as he calls her—is to come here this very evening to stay with me for a week.”
“Indeed? that will be pleasant, auntie. I must come and see her as an old acquaintance.”