“It is indeed a glorious sight,” said Ruby.  “If I had nothing to do, I believe I could sit here all day just looking at the waves and thinking.”

“Thinkin’!” repeated Selkirk, in a musing tone of voice.  “Can ye tell, lad, what ye think about when you’re lookin’ at the waves?”

Ruby smiled at the oddness of the question.

“Well,” said he, “I don’t think I ever thought of that before.”

“Ah, but I have!” said the other, “an’ I’ve come to the conclusion that for the most part we don’t think, properly speakin’, at all; that our thoughts, so to speak, think for us; that they just take the bit in their teeth and go rumblin’ and tumblin’ about anyhow or nohow!”

Ruby knitted his brows and pondered.  He was one of those men who, when they don’t understand a thing, hold their tongues and think.

“And,” continued Selkirk, “it’s curious to observe what a lot o’ nonsense one thinks too when one is lookin’ at the waves.  Many a time I have pulled myself up, thinkin’ the most astonishin’ stuff ye could imagine.”

“I would hardly have expected this of such a grave kind o’ man as you,” said Ruby.

“Mayhap not.  It is not always the gravest looking that have the gravest thoughts.”

“But you don’t mean to say that you never think sense,” continued Ruby, “when you sit looking at the waves?”

“By no means,” returned his companion; “I’m only talking of the way in which one’s thoughts will wander.  Sometimes I think seriously enough.  Sometimes I think it strange that men can look at such a scene as that, and scarcely bestow a thought upon Him who made it.”

“Speak for yourself, friend,” said Ruby, somewhat quickly; “how know you that other men don’t think about their Creator when they look at His works?”

“Because,” returned Selkirk, “I find that I so seldom do so myself, even although I wish to and often try to; and I hold that every man, no matter what he is or feels, is one of a class who think and feel as he does; also, because many people, especially Christians, have told me that they have had the same experience to a large extent; also, and chiefly, because, as far as unbelieving man is concerned, the Bible tells me that ‘God is not in all his thoughts’.  But, Ruby, I did not make the remark as a slur upon men in general, I merely spoke of a fact,—­an unfortunate fact,—­that it is not natural to us, and not easy, to rise from nature to nature’s God, and I thought you would agree with me.”

“I believe you are right,” said Ruby, half-ashamed of the petulance of his reply; “at any rate, I confess you are right as far as I am concerned.”

As Selkirk and Ruby were both fond of discussion, they continued this subject some time longer, and there is no saying how far they would have gone down into the abstruse depths of theology, had not their converse been interrupted by the appearance of a boat rowing towards the rock.