it takes root, and becomes a tree, every year shedding its large
branches, which are turned into mould as soon as they decay, and then
dropping its nuts, which again take root and grow in this mould; and
thus they continue, season after season, and year after year, until the
island becomes as large and as thickly covered with trees as the one we
are now standing upon. Is not this wonderful, my dear boy? Is not he a
great and good God who can make such minute animals as these work his
pleasure, and at the time he thinks fit produce such a beautiful island
as this?"

"Indeed he is!" exclaimed William.

"We only need use our eyes, William, and we shall love as well as
adore. Look at that shell - is it not beautifully marked? - could the
best painter in the world equal its colouring?"

"No, indeed, - I should think not."

"And yet there are thousands of them in sight, and perhaps millions
more in the water. They have not been coloured in this way to be
admired, like the works of man; for this island has been till now
probably without any one upon it, and no one has ever seen them. It
makes no difference to Him, who has but to wish, and all is complete."

For a few minutes after this conversation, Mr. Seagrave and William
were both silent. Mr. Seagrave then rose from where he was sitting:
"Come, William, let us now find our way back again; we have three
hours' daylight left, and shall be home in good time."