t one would think there was little or
nothing to admire. But this was not the case. Those persons whose
thoughts are seldom allowed to fix attentively on any subject, are apt
to fall into the mistake of supposing that in this world there are a
great many absolutely uninteresting things. Many things are, indeed,
uninteresting to individuals, but there does not exist a single thing
which has not a certain amount of interest to one or another cast of
mind, and which will not afford food for contemplation, and matter
fitted to call forth our admiration for its great and good Creator.

We know a valley so beautiful that it has been for generations past, and
will probably be for generations to come, the annual resort of hundreds
of admiring travellers. The valley cannot be seen until you are almost
in it. The country immediately around it is no way remarkable; it is
even tame. Many people would exclaim at first sight in reference to it,
"How uninteresting."

It requires a close view, a minute inspection, to discover the beauties
that lie hidden there.

So was it with our sandbank. Ailie's first thoughts were, "Oh! how
dreary; how desolate!" and in some respects she was right; but she dwelt
there long enough to discover things that charmed her eye and her
imagination, and caused her sometimes to feel as if she had been
transported to the realms of Fairyland.

We do not say, observe, that the crew of the _Red Eric_ were ever
blessed with such dreams. Jim Scroggles, for instance, had no eye for
the minute beauties or wonders of creation. Jim, according to his own
assertion, could see about as far through a millstone as most men. He
could apostrophise his eye, on certain occasions, and tell it--as though
its own power of vision were an insufficient medium of information--that
"that _wos_ a stunnin' iceberg;" or that "that _wos_ a gale and a half,
fit to tear the masts out o' the ship a'most." But for any less
majestic object in nature, Jim Scroggles had nothing to say either to
his eye, or his nose, or his shipmates.

As was Jim Scroggles, so were most of the other men. Hence they
grumbled a good deal at their luckless condition. But upon the whole
they were pretty cheerful--especially at meal-times--and, considering
their circumstances, they behaved very well.

Glynn Proctor was a notable exception to the prevailing rule of
indifference to small things. By nature he was of a superior stamp of
mind to his com