astic but thoughtless are ready to exclaim, "not love the
world! the bright, beautiful world that was made by God to be enjoyed?
Not love our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, wives? not give our
warmest affections to all these?" Truly, ye hasty ones, if you would
but earnestly consider it, you would find that God not only permits, but
requires us to love all that is good and beautiful here, as much as we
will, as much as we can; but we ought to love Himself _more_. If this
be our happy condition, then our hearts are not "set on the world"; on
the contrary, they are set free to love the world and all that is
lovable in it--of which there is very, very much--more, probably than
the best of men suppose. Else, wherefore does the Father love it and
care for it so tenderly?

But Ailie had not set her heart on her possessions on the sandbank. She
felt deep regret for a time, it is true, and in feeling thus she
indulged a right and natural impulse, but that impulse did not lead to
the sin of murmuring. Her sorrow soon passed away, and she found
herself as cheerful and happy afterwards in preparing for her long, long
voyage as ever she had been in watching the gambols of her fish, or in
admiring the lovely hues of the weeds and coral rocks in the limpid
pools of Fairyland.

It was a fortunate circumstance that Captain Dunning set about the
preparations for building the boat that afternoon, for the storm burst
upon them sooner than had been expected, and long before all the
requisite stores and materials had been rafted from the wreck.

The most important things, however, had been procured--such as the
carpenter's chest, a large quantity of planking, oakum, and cordage, and
several pieces of sail cloth, with the requisite thread and needles for
making boat sails. Still, much was wanting when the increasing violence
of the wind compelled them to leave off work.

Some of the men were now ordered to set about securing such materials as
had been collected, while others busied themselves in fixing ropes to
the hut and rolling huge masses of coral rock against its fragile walls
to steady it.

"Av ye plaze, sir," said Briant to the Captain, wiping his forehead as
he approached with a lump of tarry canvas which he used in default of a
better pocket-handkerchief, "av ye plaze, sir, wot'll I do now?"

"Do something useful, lad, whatever you do," said the captain, looking
up from the hole which he was busily engaged in diggi