• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Biographical sketch of Daniel...
 Robinson's family, etc.
 First adventures at sea, and experience...
 Robinson's captivity at Sallee
 He settles in the Brazils as a...
 Robinson finds himself in a desolate...
 Carries all his riches, provision,...
 Robinson's mode of reckoning...
 Robinson's journal
 Robinson obtains more articles...
 His recovery
 Robinson makes a tour to explore...
 He returns to his cave
 His manufacture of pottery, and...
 Meditates his escape from...
 He makes a smaller canoe, in which...
 He rears a flock of goats
 Unexpected alarm and cause for...
 Precautions against surprise
 Robinson discovers a cave, which...
 Another visit of the savages
 He visits the wreck and obtains...
 Robinson rescues one of their captives...
 Robinson instructs and civilizes...
 Robinson and Friday build a canoe...
 Robinson releases a Spaniard
 Robinson discovers himself to the...
 Atkins entreats the captain to...
 Robinson goes to Lisbon, where...
 Friday's encounter with a bear
 He is seized with a desire to revisit...
 Robinson's ship relieves the crew...
 Relieves the crew of a bristol...
 Robinson and Friday go ashore
 The account continued
 The mutinous englishmen dismissed...
 Several savages killed; the remainder...
 Robinson learns from the Spaniards...
 Robinson's discourse with the Ecclesiastic...
 Atkins relates his conversation...
 Encounter with savages at sea
 The vessel touches at Madagasc...
 Meets with an English merchant...
 Journey to Peking
 Route through Muscovy






Group Title: Robinson Crusoe
Title: Life and adventures of Robinson Crusoe
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE ZOOMABLE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00073588/00001
 Material Information
Title: Life and adventures of Robinson Crusoe with a biographical account of Defoe
Uniform Title: Robinson Crusoe
Physical Description: xxii, 25-475 p., 5 leaves of plates : ill. ; 20 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731
Thwaites, William H ( Illustrator )
Avery ( Engraver )
World Publishing House ( Publisher )
Bobbett & Hooper ( Engraver )
Loomis & Annin ( Engraver )
Publisher: World Pub. House
Place of Publication: New York ( No. 139 Eight Street )
Publication Date: 1875
Edition: New ed., complete.
 Subjects
Subject: Castaways -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Shipwrecks -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Survival after airplane accidents, shipwrecks, etc -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Imaginary voyages -- 1875   ( rbgenr )
Genre: Imaginary voyages   ( rbgenr )
fiction   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
Citation/Reference: NUC pre-1956,
General Note: On spine: Robinson Crusoe, illustrated. The world edition.
General Note: Engravers include Annin-Loomis, Avery, and Bobbett-Hooper.
General Note: Front. is included in pagination.
General Note: A variant of Lovett, R.W. Robinson Crusoe, 580, which lacks the ed. statement and has only 5 leaves of plates including the front.
General Note: Parts I and II of Robinson Crusoe, divided into chapters. Part II originally published under title: The farther adventures of Robinson Crusoe.
Statement of Responsibility: illustrated by Thwaites and others.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00073588
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 21897658

Table of Contents
    Frontispiece
        Page i
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
        Page ix
        Page x
        Page xi
        Page xii
    Biographical sketch of Daniel DeFoe
        Page xiii
        Page xiv
        Page xv
        Page xvi
        Page xvii
        Page xviii
        Page xix
        Page xx
        Page xxi
        Page xxii
    Robinson's family, etc.
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
    First adventures at sea, and experience of a maritime life
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
    Robinson's captivity at Sallee
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 48a
    He settles in the Brazils as a planter
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
    Robinson finds himself in a desolate island
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
    Carries all his riches, provision, etc. into his habitation
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
    Robinson's mode of reckoning time
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
    Robinson's journal
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
    Robinson obtains more articles from the wreck
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
    His recovery
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
    Robinson makes a tour to explore his island
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
    He returns to his cave
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 112a
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
    His manufacture of pottery, and contrivance for baking bread
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
    Meditates his escape from the island
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
    He makes a smaller canoe, in which he attempts to cruise round the island
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
    He rears a flock of goats
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
    Unexpected alarm and cause for apprehension
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
    Precautions against surprise
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
    Robinson discovers a cave, which serves him as a retreat against the savages
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
    Another visit of the savages
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 168a
        Page 169
        Page 170
    He visits the wreck and obtains many stores from it
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 180a
    Robinson rescues one of their captives from the savages, whom he names Friday, and makes his servant
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 188a
    Robinson instructs and civilizes his man Friday
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
    Robinson and Friday build a canoe to carry them to Friday's country
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
    Robinson releases a Spaniard
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
    Robinson discovers himself to the English captain
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
    Atkins entreats the captain to spare his life
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
    Robinson goes to Lisbon, where he finds the Portugues captain, who renders him an account of his property in the Brazils
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
    Friday's encounter with a bear
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
    He is seized with a desire to revisit his island
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
    Robinson's ship relieves the crew of a french vessel that had caught fire
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
    Relieves the crew of a bristol ship, who are starving
        Page 273
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
    Robinson and Friday go ashore
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
    The account continued
        Page 287
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
        Page 301
        Page 302
        Page 303
        Page 304
    The mutinous englishmen dismissed from the island
        Page 305
        Page 306
        Page 307
        Page 308
        Page 309
        Page 310
        Page 311
        Page 312
        Page 313
        Page 314
        Page 315
    Several savages killed; the remainder leave the island
        Page 316
        Page 317
        Page 318
        Page 319
        Page 320
        Page 321
        Page 322
        Page 323
        Page 324
        Page 325
        Page 326
        Page 327
        Page 328
        Page 329
        Page 330
        Page 331
    Robinson learns from the Spaniards the difficulties they had to encounter
        Page 332
        Page 333
        Page 334
        Page 335
        Page 336
        Page 337
        Page 338
        Page 339
        Page 340
        Page 341
    Robinson's discourse with the Ecclesiastic as to introducing marriages among the people
        Page 342
        Page 343
        Page 344
        Page 345
        Page 346
        Page 347
        Page 348
        Page 349
        Page 350
        Page 351
        Page 352
        Page 353
        Page 354
        Page 355
        Page 356
        Page 357
        Page 358
    Atkins relates his conversation with his wife
        Page 359
        Page 360
        Page 361
        Page 362
        Page 363
        Page 364
        Page 365
        Page 366
        Page 367
        Page 368
        Page 369
        Page 370
        Page 371
        Page 372
        Page 373
        Page 374
        Page 375
        Page 376
        Page 377
    Encounter with savages at sea
        Page 378
        Page 379
        Page 380
        Page 381
        Page 382
        Page 383
        Page 384
        Page 385
    The vessel touches at Madagascar
        Page 386
        Page 387
        Page 388
        Page 389
        Page 390
        Page 391
        Page 392
        Page 393
        Page 394
        Page 395
        Page 396
        Page 397
        Page 398
        Page 399
        Page 400
        Page 401
    Meets with an English merchant with whom he makes some trading voyages
        Page 402
        Page 403
        Page 404
        Page 405
        Page 406
        Page 407
        Page 408
        Page 409
        Page 410
        Page 411
        Page 412
        Page 413
        Page 414
        Page 415
        Page 416
        Page 417
        Page 418
        Page 419
        Page 420
        Page 421
        Page 422
        Page 423
        Page 424
        Page 425
        Page 426
        Page 427
        Page 428
        Page 429
        Page 430
        Page 431
        Page 432
    Journey to Peking
        Page 433
        Page 434
        Page 435
        Page 436
        Page 437
        Page 438
        Page 439
        Page 440
        Page 441
        Page 442
        Page 443
        Page 444
        Page 445
        Page 446
        Page 447
    Route through Muscovy
        Page 448
        Page 449
        Page 450
        Page 451
        Page 452
        Page 453
        Page 454
        Page 455
        Page 456
        Page 457
        Page 458
        Page 459
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        Page 461
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        Page 472
        Page 473
        Page 474
        Page 475
Full Text



















































Crusoe discovers the foot-prints in the sand.







LIFE AND ADVENTURES

oF


ROBINSON CRU84
WITH A

BIOGRAPHICAL ACCOUNT OF DEFOE

gllustnrat by gafnitts nib otbnr


New Edition, ceompe.


NEW YORK:
WORLD PUBLISHING HOUSE,
No. 189 EIGHTH STREET.
1875.























CONTENTS.



Par.
Biographical Sketch of Daniel Defoe ............................ 13


CHAPTER I.

.Robinson's Family, etc.-His Elopement from his Parents.......... 25


CHAPTER II.


First Adventures at Sea, and Experience of a Maritime Life-Voyage
to Guinea................................................


CHAPTER III.


Robinson's Captivity at Sallee-Escape with Xury-Arrival at the
Brazils.....................................................


CHAPTER IV.

He settles in the Brazils as a Planter-Makes another Voyage, and is
shipwrecked ..............................................







CONTF TS.


CHAPTER V.


Robinson finds Himself in a Desolate Island-Procures a Stock of
Articles from the Wreck-Constructs his Habitation ...........


CHAPTER VI.


Carries all his Riches, Provisions etc., into his Habitation-Dreari-
ness of Solitude-Consolatory Reflections ....................


CHAPTER VII.


Robinson's Mode of Reckoning Time-Difficulties arising from Want
of Tools-He arranges his IIabitation........................


CHAPTER VIII.


Robinson's Journal-Details of his Domestic Economy and Contriv-
ances-Shock of an Earthquake.............................


CHAPTER IX.


Robinson obtains more Articles from the Wreck-His Illness and
Affiction........................................ .....


CHAPTER X.


His Recovery-His Comfort in Reading the Scriptures -Makes an
Excursion into the Interior of the Island-Forms his Bower."...


CHAPTER XI.


Robinson makes a Tour to explore his Island-Employed in Basket-
M aking.................................................... 106







CONTEST.


CHAPTER XII.


He returns to his Cave-His Agricultural Labors and Succes ...... 110


CHAPTER XIII.

His Manufacture of Pottery, and Contrivance for baking Bread...... 116


CHAPTER XIV.

Meditates his Escape from the Island-Builds a Canoe-Failure of
hii Scheme-Resignation to his Condition-Makes Himself a New
Dress .................................................. 120



CHAPTER XV.

He makes a smaller Canoe, in which he attempts to cruise round the
Island-His Perilous Situation at Sea-He returns Home........ 130



CHAPTER XVI.

He rears a Flock of Goats-His Diary-His Domestic Habits and
Style of Living-Increasing Prosperity....................... 187



CHAPTER XVII.

Unexpected Alarm and Cause for Apprehension-He Fortifies his
Abode................... ................................... 14.4



CHAPTER XVIII.

Precautions against Surprise-Robinson discovers that his Island has
been visited by Cannibals................................ 151







CONTHNTS.


CHAPTER XIX.
Page.
Robinson discovers a Cave, which serves Iim as a Retreat against
the Savages ....................... ... ................. 155


CHAPTER XX.

Another Visit of the Savages-Robinson sees them dancing-Per-
ceives the Wreck of a Vessel .............................. 166


CHAPTER XXI.

He visits the Wreck and obtains many Stores from it-Again thinks
of quitting the Island--Ias a Remarkable Dream........ 171


CHAPTER XXII

Robinson rescues One of their Captives from the Savages, whom li
names Friday, and makes his Servant ........................ 181


CHAPTER XXIII.

Robinson instructs and civilizes his Man Friday-Endeavors to give
Him an Idea of Christianity ................................ 189


CHAPTER XXIV.

Robinson and Friday build a Canoe to carry Them to Friday's Coun-
try-Their Scheme prevented by the Arrival of a Party of Savages. 198


CHAPTER XXV.

Robinson releases a Spaniard-Friday discovery his Father-Ao-
commodation provided. for the se New nest Who are afterward
sent to lib. rate the other Spaniards-Arrival of an English Vessel. 203







coIqTEqTS.


CHAPTER XXVI.


Robinson discovers Himself to the English Captain-Assists Him in
reducing his Mutinous Crew, who submit to Him............... 217



CHAPTER XXVII.

Atkins entreats the Captain to spare his Life-The Latter recovers
his Vessel from the Mutineers-Aud Robinson leaves the Island... 229



CHAPTER XXVIII.

Robinson goes to Lisbon, where lie finds the Portuguese Captain, who
renders him an Account of his Property in the Brazils-Sets out
on his Return to England by Land .......................... 287



CHAPTER XXIX.

Friday's Encounter with a Bear-Robinson and his Fellow Travellers
attacked by a Flock of Wolves-- is Arrangement of his Affairs,
and Marriage after his Return to England ..................... 247



CHAPTER XXX.

He is seized with a Desire to revisit hs Islin.1-Lnses his Wife-Is
Tempted to go to Sea agiin-Takis out a Cargo for his Colony... 258



CHAPTER XXXI.

Robinson's Ship relieves the Crew of a French Vissel that had
caught Fire.............. .............................. -66







CONTEnTS.


CHAPTER XXXII.
Pagz
Relieves the Crew of a Bristol Ship, who are starving-Arrives at
his Island ........ ......................................... 27:



CHAPTER XXXIII.

Robinson and Friday go Ashore-The Latter meets with his Father
-Account of what passed on the Island after Robinson's quitting
It .......... ......................................... 280


CHAPTER XXXIV.

The Account continued-Quarrels bitw~en the Fnglishmen-A Bat-
tle between two Parties of Savages who visit the Island-Fresh
Mutiny among the Settlers.................................... 287


CHAPTER XXXV.

The Mutinous Englishmen are dismissed from the Island-Return
with Several Captive Savages-Take the Females as Wives-Ar-
rival of Savagei .......................................... 305


CHAPTER XXXVI.

Several Sacages killed ; the Remainder leave the Island-A Fleet of
them afterward arrive-A General Battle-The Savages are over-
come, and Tranquillity restored .............................. 31


CHAPTER XXXVII.

Robinson learns from the Spaniards the Difficulties they had to en-
counter-He furnishes the People with Tools, etc.-The French
Ecclesiastic ............. ..................... .......... 332










CHAPTER XXXVIrI.
Page.
Robinson's Discourse with the Ecolesiastic as to introducing Mar-
riages among the People-Marriages performed-Atkins convert
his Wife .................... ......................... .. 42


CHAPTER XXXIX.

Atkins relates his Conversation with his Wife-The Latter baptized
by the Priest-Account of the starving State of Those on Board the
rescued Vessel-Robinson's Departure from the Island........... 859


CHAPTER XL.

Encounter with Savages at Sea-Friday's Death-Robinson finds his
former Partner in the Brazils-Sails for the East Indies.......... 878


CHAPTER XLI.

The Vessel touches at Madagascar-Affray with the Natives, who are
Massacred by the Crew-The Sailors afterward refuse to sail with
Robinson, who is left by his Nephew, the Captain, in Bengal...... 886


CHAPTER XLII.

Meets with an English Merchant with whom he makes some Trading
Voyages-They are Mistaken for Pirates-Vanquish their Pursu.
ere-Voyage to China Rencounter with the Cochin Chinese-
Island of Formosa-Gulf of Nanquin-Apprehensions of falling into
the Hands of the Dutch ................................... 402


CHAPTER XLIII.

Journey to Peking-Robinson joins a Caravan proceeding to Moseow
-Rencounters with the Tartars................................... 48







0ii CONTzNT"S.


CHAPTER XLIV.

Route through Muscovy-Robinson and a Scots Merchant destroy an
Idol-The whole Caravan in great peril from the pursuit of the Pa-
gans-Tobolski-Muscovite Exiles-Departure from Tobolski-
Encounter with a Troop of Robbers in the Desert-Robinson
reaches Archangel, and finally arrives in England............... 48














BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

OF

DANIEL DEFOE.




EFOE, the author of Robinson Crusoe, would be en-
titled to a prominent place in the history of our litera-
ture even had he never given to the world that truly
'admirable production; and yet we may reasonably
question whether the name of Defoe would not long
ago have sunk into oblivion, or at least have been known,
like those of most of his contemporaries, only to the
curious student, were it not attached to a work whose popularity
Shas been rarely equalled-never,perhaps, excelled. Even as it is,
the reputation due to the writer has been nearly altogether absorbed
in that of his hero, and in the all-engrossing interest of his adven-
Stures. Thousands who have read Robinson Crusoe with delight,
and derived from it a satisfaction in no wise diminished by repeated
perusal, have never bestowed a thought on its author, or, indeed,
regarded it in the light of a literary performance. While its fascination
has been universally felt, the genius that conceived it, the talent that per-
fected it, have been generally overlooked, merely because it is so full of
nature and reality as to exhibit no invention or exertion on the part of
the author, inasmuch as he appears simply to have recorded what actually
happened and consequently only to have committed to paper plain matter
of fact, without study or embellishment. We wonder at and are struck
with admiration by the powers of Shakespeare or Cervantes; with regard
to Defoe we experience no similar feelings; it is not the skill of the artist
that enchants us, but the perfect naturalness of the picture, which is such
that we mistake it for a mirror; so that every reader persuades himself
that he could write as well, perhaps better, were he but furnished with the
materials for an equally interesting narrative.
There are many circumstances in Defoe's own history that would rec-
ommend it to the notice of the biographer, independently of his claims as
the author of Robinson; among which are the variety and extraordinary
number of his literary performances, amounting to no fewer than two hun-
dred and nine different publications; and the no less singular fact that the
masterpiece of his genius was not only his first essay in that species of
composition, but was not produced till he was far advanced in years, he
having then arrived at a period of life when the generality of authors close
their literary career, and when the powers of imagination either lose much
of their vigor, or become altogether torpid. Nor will our surprise at De-
foe's industry, and the almost unprecedented fertility of his pen, be at all







Xiv BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH or

diminished by considering that he was not a recluse student or professed
scholar, but was engaged in trade and various other speculations. In one
respect, however, his mercantile occupations contributed to lay the foun-
dation to his excellence as a novel writer, since there can be little doubt
that it is to his actual experience of the sea, and his acquaintance with
other countries, we are indebted for that truth and spirit which animate the
more interesting parts of Robinson Crusoe; Vhile'the manly good sense,
unaffected earnestness, and fund of native intell:gnece, have placed him far
abive those who presume to undervalue his lit-rary acquirements.
According to the latest and most copious of all is biograph. rs, Daniel
Defoe was born in 1G61, two years earlier than the generally assigned date
of his birth. His father was a butcher in the parish of St. Gils, Cripple-
gate, and appears to have been a citizen in easy circumstances, although
his trade was one that confers no particular lustre on a pedigree. It is usual
to effect some degree of astonishment when we read of men whose after
fame presents a striking contrast to the humility of their origin; vet we
must recollect that it is not ancestry and splendid descent, but ed cation
and circumstances which form the lian; and in this respect the middling
classes possess a decided advantage over those either below or above them ;
for if the fornmr are precluded from cultivating their talents and abilities,
the latter generally consider themselves exempt from the necessity of doing
so, and accordingly content themselves with cultivating mere external ac-
complishments. in preference to exercising their mental energy, a. Those,
on tie contrary, who are place, d in the middle station, while they are not
d barred from the means of application, feel that stimulus to exertion
which arises from the desire of acquiring fortune or fame. The history of
such men as Ximenes, Wolsey, Alberoni, and Napoleon. may, indeed, just-
ly excite our wonder; when, too, we behold unlettered genius emerging,
in spite of every obstacle, from the obscurity to which it seemed condemned,
as in a Fergusson, a Duval, a Burns, and an Opie. we may be permitted to
express our astonishment; but as regards his origin, the history of Defoe is
that of thousands who have afterward raised themselves into comparative
elevation by the display of their powers. The solicitude, therefore, so
generally displayed by biographers, on similar occasions, to trace some
cons:nguinity wit a more dignified branch of their families, for those whose
native obscurity seems to demand some apology, betravy a rather mistaken
policy. However this niay be, it is certain that it is qu ito as honorable for
Defoe to have ascended from a butcher as it would have been to have de-
scended from the Conqueror himself.
One undoubted and very gr at advantage, for wh'ch Defoe was indebted
to his parents, who were Nonconformsts. was an education superior to
wh:it it was then usual for persons in their station to bestow upon their
children ; and they were careful also to implant in his youthful miLd that
regard for religion, and that strict moral integrity, which afterward dis-
pli.yed themselves not only in his writings, but his conduct through life.
Aii- this rectitude of principle be most unequivocally evinced which his
misfortunes put it so severely to the proof. At about the age of fourteen,
he was placed under the tuition of the Rev. Charles Morton, of Newington
Green. who was afterward vice-president of Harvard College, New England;
and from various incidental remarks in his own works. it appears that
young Defoe now entered upon an extensive course of studies. and made
considerable proficiency in languaires, mathematics, philosophy, history,
and theology; although the natural liveliness of his disposition unfitted hira
for that severe application which is necessary to form a profound scholarin
any one of those pursuits.
It was the intention of his parents that he should embrace the leIrioal







DANIEL DEFOI. Xv

profession, which their religious feelings, and probably a very pardonable
ambition, induced them to select for him ; yet, notwtbstanding his regard
for the sacred office, he was unwilling to embrace it himself; or events. at
east, divert d his talents into another clhanel. The political and religious
excitements of that period were contagious for ono of Defoe's temper; ha
assumed the character of the patriot as soon as he cast off that of the boy,
and espoused the side < f the popular party with all the ardor of youth ;
nor was it long before he had opportunities of distinguishing himself. lie
was a warm advocate for the Bill of Exclusion, passed by the Commons to
prevent the succession of the Duke of York to, the throne ; and regarded
with abhorrence that spirit of despotism which sentenced Sydney and so
many otllers to the scaffld. At the age of twenty-one he commenced
author, which employment lie continued fir nearly half a century. and
that, too, alenost uuint'e: rrptedly, no: withstanding his various speculations of
a ditf rent nature. It c.innot be expected that in a sketch of this nature we
sh,,oul attempt to give anything like a connected account of Defoe's various
liter.try perforniiiices, they bing too numerous and multifarious for us to
advert to tI ,in separately, even if we conceived th it by so doing we should
greatly interc-t the readers of this-the most distinguished of them all.
li.:t the truth is, the majority of tihem are of that class which it ii rather
the province of thel I I ... .l Il r than the critic to describe. We may,
however, here nieetie I.. lr production of his pen, which, under the
singular t.tle of Speculum (Crapg-gownirumin," .wcis a reply to a publica-
ti,.n of Iog, r L'E;trange's, a noted party writer of that d.y. In this work
Defoe indulged in rather intemperate language, and while vindicating the
dissenter', retc-eted in too hostiie and inJiscriuiniate a manner upon the
established clergy This was sicceeoded by a Treatise against the Turks,"
occ;asionLd by the war between them and the imperial.sts ; and was penned
by Defoe for the purpose of showing hli countrymen that, if it was the in-
terest of Protestantism not to increase the influence of a Catholic power. it
was itninitelo' more so to oppose a Mohainmmedan one ; which, however de-
baceable it imight appear ti) politicians, was almost too obvious a truism to
be entitled to any merit for its sagacity. It is the fiate of political p1ublica-
tions quickly to tall into oblivion afttr the events which cal them ftrllh have
passed away; the reputation derived from them is as t-ailsitoir a: the
events themselves, or if the fame of the writer occasionally descends to pos-
terity, it is more than can be affirmed of his writings.
Shortly after this, Defoe proved that he was as ready to support the doe-
trines he advocated by the sword as by the pen. He accordingly joined
the standard of the Duke of Monmonth, when the latter landed in Eniglnnd
with a view of expelling a Catholic prince from the throne, and scaring
himself upon it as the defender oI' Protestantism. The issue of that ad-
ventur.,, and tile subsequent fate of the unfortunate, if not perfectly inno-
cent, Monmouth are well known. Happier than tile leader of the enter-
prise, it was Defoe's better luck to escape. He returned to the mletropo-
s in safety; and, abandoning politics and warfare, was content for a
while to turn bis attention to the more humble but less stormy pursuits of
trade.
He now became a hosier, or rather a hose-factor, that is, a kind of agent
between the manufacturer and retailer; and, according to Mr. Chalmers,
he continued to, carry on this concern from 1685 to 1695. It was about
two years after he had thus established himself. that he was admitted a
liveryman of London, on the 26th of January. 1687-'8. Business, however,
did not so entirely absorb his attention but that he found time to engage in
tihe various controversies that agitated the public min 1, and which were
occasioned by the arbitrary measures of James, who, feeling himself secure








Xvi BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH or

after the removal of so dangerous an enemy as Monmouth, began mor
openly to favor the Catholics, and to dispense with the tests intended to
prevent their accepting commissions in the army. This of course excited
oth the alarm and indignation of the Protestants, which were by no mean
allayed by the temporizing servility of their own clergy, who exerted their
eloquence in favor of the king's prerogative. Among those who attacked
the doctrine of the dispensing power was 1)efoe; nor, as may well be im-
agined, was he afterward an unconcerned spectator of the Revolution,
whose progress lie had minutely watched, and whose anniversary he con-
tinued yearly to celebrate as a day marked Iby the deliverance of his coun-
try from political and religious tyranny. Ilis attachment to the new sov-
ereign was confirmed by the personal notice shown him both by that
prince and his consort; for the butcher's son" had the honor of an early
introduction to tlhe royal presence.
At this perioI De'ltoa resilded at Tooting in Surrey. and he had now
launched out into lmre extensive commercial speculations, having im-
barked in the Sp i.ish andl Portuguese trade, so that lie might fairly claim
the title of mirellat. The precise time of his going to Spain, whether
before or after thel Revolution, cannot be ascertained; but he not only
made a voyage thither, but stayed some time in the country, and acquired
a kniowledl. I i. '..:.n: Sincere as was his attachment to the purer
tenets of P' r, .'I ,... I Il not degenerate into blind prejudice, nor pre-
vent hi:n from doina jilstice to Catllolics: lie has ncc~rningly, in his Ilib-
insn Crnlson, represented the Spanish character under its most aninblo
traits, and in a ton that may anlost pass for pa:unecric. This voyage, as
we have alr eady rcnmirkel. (I )ubtlhssly contributed to store his o)berv:int
mind with many materials for thoRs dcscriptiotis of the plerils and adven-
tures co!iiinn ti a sea-fIrini life, that so strongly ixcilt the sy ipa'lhy of
those who ft'oli o Iii hero cross the trickless deep. Nor wvs lie without
some expevriene" If shipwreck, if iit actually in his own person, hy the loss
of a vessel in whiih lie was a shar.'holleir, and which was wrecked in a
violent storm off tI h cost of ise ly. It, was nlout this period also that
he tradlel with 11 dllal; proiltably for civet, as one of his elnliies hl:s
sneeringly slvyleI li:i a ciivet-cat miierclhani." IBsidles th;s lie vis;ted
somn' other pli:rti o' the continent, ,pa.ticuilar!y Gerimany ; lie dilI nolt, hIiw-
ever, relinquiihl his hohse-agency buliess in eonsq(uitnec of lis other en-
gag.in'nmt, B It, erwnmr: iidl entlerrise did noit. prove for him the r.iad
to lealthi ; on tih c',tra'ry. his speiuitaions involved him in anchi e(mnlar-
raisnm 'ts, that, in 1 '12. lie waSi obliLged t. a, istio ind from his erehit irs. A
c"Immis'iii n of b n1k1"iIp',cy w:is taken out against him. y t it, was afterward
sn;)peri.ide,l, th,-.' to) \ ri,)hn hle wau most in delbt aLrc,'ig, to acce|1[t a cmill-
posli-io on hil ow h1111d ; an hlie niot only punctiai!ly divchtarcd t1 's1a
c iLn, hiot, I al'ter lr I I haI olnewhat r trieved 'his eirunllli-ta; les, volnlital;iyv
rei,:idl til r.emouinlder. This iai so mchfl the more, to his honor, ineCe '-o iar
f,11 IIrtivill mt 1Awith m:niay prec.,dlents of Fimnilar prolity in olicrs,. hiii
rntil':'tiies hal I ie'a in some dtti'cre onee'aiolnedl by thie k:navery of illiltrin-
; pled ine n, who, ail'ini them'nllves of the impunity held out to t he:,n !by
tile siiilelneles orl tIl' inipoteney of teo law, were then aecustoneid to Get
tlh i,- cr dito:' at, defian:e in the most barefaced manner.
It wis IDefoe hi:oislf whio first e:lled the attention of the :: 1 ,' to
the intllerahle ab:lses which arose from those anr.'uries. .. -re
termed, for originals and debtors, which then existed in tle metropooli i ;
an I t' hilhn. consequentli, may we be said to ,e indebted for tlie :iiatenient
of a ntis1Inee as dis5.re'fTl to, 1 t1 niattinail lharll e'', as it wias ilnjurious to
the inilustrious and honuet pl'rtion of the community.
SWith a view of assisting himi in his distress, seoie of his friends now







DANIEL DIFO. XVil

same forward and offered to settle him as a factor at Cadiz: yet, advan.
tageous as the proposal was, he declined it, preferring toendeavor to re-
trieve his finances by his pen. The country being then engaged in an
expensive war with France, Defoe proposed a scheme to assist the govern-
ient in raising the-wuays -n nd means andusu mctime afterward ho re-
ceived the appointment of accountant to the commissioners of the clasi
duty; but it proved only a temporary one, as the duty was repealed in
August, 1690. Probably it was also about the same period that he became
secretary to the tile-works at Tilbury, in which concern he embarked some
money, and was again a sufferer. His Essay on Projects," published in
January, 1096-7, shows him to have been, if not a very successful speculator
himself, at least a very ingenious and fertile deviser of theoretical plans,
most of which mu't be allowed to have the welfare of so,.iety in view; nor
have they been without influence in leading to ntiny improvements of later
times; among those which have been p.-actially a:topted. we may men-
tion his s:hemne for Frien.lly Societies and Savin g Banks. Were any tsti-
many required in fivor of this work, it would I be sufficnt t6: quote that of
the celebrated Franklin, wh i confesses that the impressions he received
from it gave a strong bias to his own pursuits.
If not invariably employed it the active dfence of public morals, Defoe's
pen was too honest to betray th.-ir interests on any oce.isiol: it was not
always that his topics called for, or even a.lmited, any direct inculcations
of virtue, but whenever they di.l, hI displayed his earnestness in its beh.ilf.
His publication entitled "The Poor Main's Plea" is a very keen piece of
satire, with a cono-i-lriblo touch of humor, 1-vcled against the vices of the
upper cl.-ses ofs icicty, in which lie urges them to discoiuittenance by th, ir
owvn conduct tile immorality they deem so reprehensible in the vuliar.
The stage too did not escape his castigation; and really its transresions
were at that period so barefaced and audacious, so offensive even to com-
mnin decency, that, whatever infamy there may have been in either toler-
ating ori in atteilptirt to defend such a system of lewdness, there could be
no great triumph in exposing that which did not even attempt to conceal
itself.
| We have now to notice our author in a somewhat different character-
namely, na a cai lidate for poetical fame. Hiis satire, entitled the "True-
born iEnglishman," which was writ en for the purpose of averting from the
king the abusive reflections cast upon him as a foreigner, had indeed a
very great run at tile time -more, however, on account of the matter than
of thle mianner-since both that and all Defoe's other attempts of the kind
convince us, tlat, like the great onman orator, he was an intolerably bad
lpoi t, and not even a decent versilier. Yet could gratitude and enthusiastic
devotion to his prince Ihlve supplied the inspiration which the muses de-
nied him, Defoe's poetry woenl have been of irsat-rate excellence, so sincere
wa, h:s admiration of, so zealons was his d&volion to, William II. T1h
v itiotis effusions in rhyme, and the numerous political pamphlets and
tra..is which he published at this interval, we must pass by, and come
irllectly to an event that obtained for our author a rather unenviable species
of d(l:tinction. The reign of Anne commenced with much violence and
with cabah between the respective church parties, leading to controversies
that rather !inned than allayed the p'ubic ferment. On such an occasion,
it was not to be expected that Defoe would remain passive ; assuming tie
furious tone of the hiuth-churchmen of the day against the dissenters, he
published a small pamphlet. which was in reality a satire upon the writings
which that party had issued from the press ; but the irony was so fine, and
the imitation so exact. that while it was supposed by them to utter the
real sentiments of the writer, it was also interpreted by those whom it








XTI1 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF

was intended to serve as coming from a violent enemy. The Shorteat
wav with the Dissenters"-such was its title-created an amazing se nation ;
anl on its real object being exposed, the high-church party became as
fierce in their indignation, as they had before been warm in their applause.
The author was detected, a reward offered for his appreh'nsion. ati d lie
hImself sentenced to be imprisoned in Newgate, and to stand in the pillr ;
bat the attendance of his friends, and the enthusiasm of the populace in
favor of the champion of r ligious liberty, converted an ignominious pun-
i hment into a triumph, so that his enemies had as little rca.on to exult in
their victory, as to be proud of the sagacity they had displa ed. If, how-
ever, this event rather increased than diminished I efot. s re mutation, it had
a di:lerent effect upon his pecuniary a:fLir ; his conilinment in Newg'ate
prevented his ., r ..i... ,ny longer to his concern at Tilbury, the conse-
quence of whlii I i ir it was obliged to be given up; atnl thus Defoe
saw himrslf depried. at once of what hi.d been tlhe source of a hliandsome
income, for betor:e this a.Tair he was in suchl thriving cireunmsanet s as to
be able t.) sleep his coach. According to his own st-.terneiit, lie lost three
thousand five hundred pounds, a far more considerable umn at lthat pcridd
than it would ie now. TIn re was indeed one way of both speedily and
saf-ly rcpiiring his finances, namely, bl naeeeptinu ile overtures nlade
himn by tile ministry, who woull rglally have elliste.l in their own cause
that pnu whicll hal proved so powerful aiL'airt them ; but Defoe was too
iidlependlent of ioul, and too hiih principled, to, puirchilase his release union
ter.iis that would inflict upon liun tile disgrace the pillory had failed to
effect.
Although a prison is not the most congenial place for literary pursuits,
our author availed hunselfof the tii ime vlhieli the loss of his libeity afforded
him, of occupying his unwelcome leisure from all other business in writing
both in verse ani prose. It was here that lie publslihed his poem oi the
Reformation of Manners," a sufficiently copious theme in ever age. and
afterward continue l the subject in another, entitled t" More Reformition ;"
in which he alludes to his own situation in the following nervous lines,
describing himself as
A modern tool,
To wit, to p.r i0e an I I -lfal fool ;
Enl roiled with states t, do io hI nl-lf no good,
Anl by his friends tih.m elveis i utinder tood;
Mi coni tioti fir t in eiry wo d Ihe aid-
By these unpitied atd by those unpaid "

Here we may truly say facit indlisnaoio ver.si. f r the canutic tone and an-
titlhesis are not u01nworthy of Pope himi.'lf. Tlhe political controversial
pieces whli.ih lie sent forth to the world from his '' lace of durance N\ile"
were to n uiam.rous for usi to specify tlihni; we therefore Iprfer speakling oi
a work of ImorI permanent interest, one in which lie iniy be ire'anarhid
the iimm idiato predecessor of two of the most popular and admir'ied of our
clarS-i write's in tile days of Anie-nauilel\', >teilc and Adlieon. I 'foir s
Review," whi,~h comnilneed Feb. 19, 1701, diservcs to be considered ;i,
the prototype' pf our Tatlers and Spectators; and mayl earn for its authI r
the appellateil of the Father of English Es-ayvists: siice :. .II-. i...
that political iit iligeiee and discutsion ec mst t'tiel a grei. '
contents, it touched upon a variety of other topics IearinLg upon literature,
manners, and morale while it was itself hiirdlh- in any degree ind.lbted for
this part of its pl:a to preceding or contemporary publications. Uniformly
assal.ng vici, or expi,-ng to just ridiiule thi. f;olh's and foibles of society,
Defoe varied his mode of attack, at one time employing grave reasoaiug







DANIEL DEFOE. Xix

and serious remonstrance ; at another, substituting sarcasm, numor, wit,
and pleasantry, for monitor reproof. To a modern reader, indeed, many
of the topics might seem to lack invention, and to be rather common-place,
merely because they have been so repeatedly handled by later writers, that
both the wit and argument displayed in them have lost their freshness.
Tins circumstance, however, does not detract from Defoe's intrinsic merit,
or from the praise due to him as an originator; on the contrary, he, in this
respect, o:lly shares the fate common to all those who open a new path in
litjrat'ure or art, inviting imitators whose number oppress, if they do not
overwhelm them ; that Deloe has not since been surpas ed in this species
of writing is far more than we can venture to nssert; yet it should be
recollectedi that it is the first navigator of the Atlantic, not those who cross
it in a modern steamboat, who claims the homnige of our admiration.
Those who are unacquainted with Defoe the essayist, as well as Defoe
the novelist, will not be able to appreciate the extent of our author's
powers, and the variety of his information. But we have already dwelt
upon the "Review" at greater length than is consistent with the brevity
we must perforce observe ; it is time, therefore, to proceed with our nar-
rative. Mr. IIarley, afterward earl of Oxford, happened, by a change in
the ministry, to come into power, after Defoe had been about two years
in continemient, and being able to appreciate his abilities-perhaps anxious
to secure them in his own support, lie represented his case to the queen,
who generously sent a sum of money to his wife and family, and another to
discharge his line and prison expenses. Iimmedi:t, ly upon his liberation,
Defoe retired to Bury St. Edmunds. It was there that lie wrote his mas-
t rly treatise, entitled Giving Alms no Charity," in which lie displays
great practical knowledge, with enlarged and sound views on the causes of
poverty, and on the employment of the poor. In the intervals of these
and other occupations, for it should be (observed that lie had been sent in
170.5 by Ilarley on a secret minsion to the continent, the express object of
which has not transpired-he found leisure to employ his pen on other
subjects, and anticipating his future character of a romance writer, he
intended the 'true narrative" of Mrs. Veal's apparition, which was pre-
fixed to a translation of Drclincourt on Death. The supposed stranger from
the other world is nmde to recommend that performance; and, as such
sip.rariiural testimony was irresistible, the whole impression, which had
before lain on th,. bookseller's shrives, was quickly sold, and was succeeded
by many other., the work having since passed ii .. o.'ih forty different edi-
tio:is. Tnhis str.itagem certainly does honor to I .. i ingenuityy and pene-
tration; yet whether it be entirely justifiable, considering the tendency of
the deception, may be doubted.
Leaving for a while the account of his literary career, we must now
brietlv notice a very important natio:,al subject, namely, the Union with
Scotland, in which, besides warmly advocating the measure with his pen,
)Delfoe was personally employed. At the recommendation of Harley and
,Lord Godolphin, by whom hie had been recommended to the queen, he
was sent on a mission to Edinburgh, in which city he arrived in October,
1706. Here, it should seem, he was chiefly employed in making calcula-
tions relatin, to trade and taxes, for the information of the committees of
p.arlianmet; he also occupied himself in collecting those documents relative
to the Union which lie afterward published. Besides this, lie proposed
several plans for encouraging the manufactures, and for promoting the
trade, wealth, and maritime resources of Scotland. After an absence of
about sixteen months, lie returned to England in 1708, when his services
obtained for him, from the ministry, an appointment with a fixed salary;
and as it does not appear what was the nature of the offi e he ldb we moy







XX BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF

conclude it to have been merely a sinecure. Almost immediately after.
ward. his patron Harley was dismissed from office, through the per evening
intrigues of the duchess of Malborough, whom ie had supplanted in the
queen s favor, an event that suddenly overclouded Defoe's political pros-
pect. Without compromisiug his p.aciples, however, li espoused the in-
terest of the sneeedimg ministry ; but although Godolphin treated him
with consideration, he suffered his pension to fall into arrears, perhaps in
consequence of Defoe's long absence in Scotland, whither lie was again
despatched a few months afterward, upon some secret business. In the
following year, 17J:), Defoe published a work which, to use the words of an
eminent hiring critic, "plines him among the soundest historians of the
day ;" and which, according to the testimony of another, would have
handed down his name to posterity, even had lie not immortalized himself
by Robinson Crusoe. This was his i" History of the Union," which is as
interesting for the minute descriptions it gives of tl:e actors and incidents
in that import-int event, as for the documentls it furnishes.
Sti;l enigaied in poltics, Defoe's continued and severe attacks against
the Tories aoid high-church party so exasperated them. that they attempted
to suppress hIs writin s, and even threatened him with prosecutions ; their
animosity, however, did not procure for him, from those whose cause lie
defended, a degree of favor nad support at all commensurate with his long
and able services. HIe had also to contend with fresh pecuniary losses in
some concern in whi,.h he was engaged (1712) with Mr. Wood, a mlrcer of
Coleshlllin Warwick-h ire, and with the personal almse with which his
character was assailed by writers who reflected upon himn us being a knav-
ish bankrupt. But his pol:t.cal career was now drawing to its close;
having carried on his Review" for more than nine years, he filially relin-
quished it in May, 1713, when lie was again a prisoner in Newgate uipon
an indictment preferred against himi by his friends the Whigs. as the autlior
of tlrce treasonable Jacobilical pamphlets whereas the publications in
question were of a directly opposite tendency. The queen once more be-
stowed a free pardon on him. and the malice of his numerous enemies was
defeated. From this time he employed his pen only occasionally on politi-
cal subjects. By the accession of iGeorge 1. to the throne. Defoe gained
nothing, although his writings had strenuously pleaded the cause of tihe
House of IL.no\ver during the late reign ; and although lie bad superior
claims upon public gratitude for the zeal witl which, during mnarly thirty
years, he hal not only advocated religious and political indeipendenlce, but
endeavored to call attention to subjects of paramount importance to the
national prosperity. That this neglect should, in spite of all his philoso-
phy, have occasioned him considerable mortification, is not much tos be
wondered at; and to the effect it had upon his health was attributed an
apoplectic attack in the year 1715, from which he continued to suffer for
six months.
After so serious a blow to his constitution, and at his advanced period o0
life, it might have been expected that he would now lay aside his pen-at
least remit his exertions. Yet it was subsequently to this apparently
cloudy epoch of his career that the brightest and most durable of his lite-
rary wreaths was won. Great versatility of talent is not often accompanied
by an equal degree of vigor and raciness of intellect; when, however, such
does happen to be the case, it should seem that the former is rather bene-
ficial tlan otherwise to its possessor, and that change of subject serves to
recruit the mental energies. Defoe at least may be quoted as an extraor-
dinary instance of rrjurcnescency of mind in the decline of years. We do
not here allude to his "Family Instructor," although that performance is
ane of the most valuable and useful systems of practical morality in ou;







DANIEL DEFOL. XL

language, and has, doubtless, been far more beneficial to society than many
works of even splendid celebrity. It is the series of novels which now
appear in quick succession from his pen, that have won for him an imper-
ishiable reputation anong the wor hics of English lit, rature; nor will his
claims upon our admiration be diminished by considering the extravagant,
iumnatural system of romance-writing which had till then prevailed, where
Sri;,. was either so artificial or so shadowy, that not a glimpse of real
I.i be discerned. In Defoe's narrative, on the contrary, there is
such an air of downright matter-of-f et and unadorned truth, as to amount
to actual deception; thereby preventing us from crediting the author with
any merit on the score of imiagilation, contrivance, or invention. Of this
the reader will be amply convinced by the perusal of the present work, on
which it is not necessary that we should expatiatn-, and we shall therefore
merely advert to the circumstances connected with it. origin and publica-
tion. The history of Robinson Crusoe was first publihlwd in the year
1719, and its popularity may be said to have been establish,-d immediately,
since four editions were calikd for in about as imany months, a circumstance
aat tt time almost unprecedented in the annuls of literature. It rarely
happens that an author's expectations are surpassed by the success of his
work, however as:onishing it may seem to otlirs ; yet perhaps even Defoe
himself did not vent':re to look forward to such a welcome on the part of
thu public, aftertlhe repulses lie had experienced on that of the booksellers ;
for incred.bie .s it now appears, the manuscript of the work had been
offered to, and rijceted by, ev.ry oni0 in the tride, in which respect its d.s-
tiny Iwas not only similar to tha of Paradise Lost, but two of the mort c !e-
brited literary p ,odu.tions of tho present day, nanmely, Waverleyand 'Cilde
Harold; the former of whc'i remained in manuscript ten years, without
any probability of ever seeing the light, although its fame has since ex-
ten ded itself wherever the English language is known-nay more, has even
penetrated the wilds of Siburia.
Astonishing as was the success of Defoe's romance, it did not deter the
envious from attempting to disparage it. The materials, it was said, were
either furnished by, or surreptiously obtained from, Alexander Selkirk, a
mariner who had resided for four years in the desert island of Juan Fernan-
dez, and returned to England in 1711. Very probably, his story, which
then excited considerable interest and attention, did suggest to Defoe the
idea of writing his romance; but all the details and incidents are entirely
his own. Mo.t certainly Def.e had obtained no papers or written docu-
ments from Selkirk, as the latter had none to communicate. So far, how-
ever, have others been from taxing our author with plagiarism, that they
have, on the contrary, charged hiii with putting on paper a heap of chime-
ras, to impose upon public credulity. Thus these two contradictory
charges reciprocally destroy each other. An attem; t has also been made
to rob him entirely of the brightest jewel in his literary crown, by denying
him tj have been the author of Robinson Crusoc, which has been ascribed,
by some, to Arbuthnot; by others, to Defoe's patron, the first earl of Ox-
ford. Those who have wished to gain credit for the latter opinion, assert
that it was composed by that nobleman during his imprisonment in the
Tower, in 1715, on a charge of high treason; and th,'y have urged that the
whole tone of the work, especially of lhat part toward the conclusion
where an account is given of the exiled nobles of Muscovy, is what would
naturally be suggested by the solitude of a prison. Yet as far as internal
evidence is concerned, that is, indisputably, much stronger in favor of De-
foe; for he had not only been familiar with imprisonment, but was also by
his acquaintance with foreign countries, and his experience in businea
and traffic much better qualified to produce a work which displays ai







Xxi SIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF DANIEL DEFOE.

much practical knowledge of things, as well as of man Indeed, nothing
short of the most conclusive and undeniable testimony of facts to the con-
t:arvy c;:lan all invalidate the claims to be consllered as the real author.
II I Idolbinson Crusie been the only production of the kind that proc, edr.l
f.on his pen, tlier, m ghlt tIe better reason for doubting whether r hI wrote
it; but the various other riovels, or rather piece of lhctitions Ibigrnphy,
which lie produced, forin an additional reason for attributing it to hin.
Of these litter we mnint here speak far more briefly than there deserve;
the "'listorv of Moll Flander.'"' which wns published in 17"1~ is an a.d-
mirably drawn picture of life, and contaitis an excellent moral lesson,
although many of the scenes it nece-arlv discloses are coarse and revolt-
ing. The Life of Colonel Jaque" contains almost as much alle delineation
of real life; and in that pirt of the in:irrative which gives account of the
Iero"s residence in Virginia, Defoe hans lhumannely advocated the cause of the
negro elaves. Ilia Memoirs of a Catvalir r.' which work is supposed te
haie been written about the same time. is rather history attir d in the form
of anl illmagiinarv piece of biography. than a romtirire. Indeed. all the de-
tails are so circumstantial and acrcunrte. that it lions been mistaken for a
gelnline narrative of the events of thle civil wirts in IEi!gla:il rinid Germni y;
aud it was nctuallv recomminield as the 'vey liest arcount of thtem Iby the
great Lord Chatham, with whom it was a favorite book. In like nninner
our author's llistorv of the Plagne" imposed upon Dr. Mead. and since
upon others, who have referred to it as an authelitic document, and a true
rce:tal of that great n:itin-.l c.lImrityv. Here lie is tlie rival of I line ,dc.d
and Bocencia ; and depicts the ho; rors of pestilence as vividly anid ras mirs-
te.rly as Poussin. It may. Irhowever. tIe imag-ined Ihv some. tlh.t thito is rather
suspicions I raise, and tlhat the wsrk of liction whih can piss as true his-
tory must be cold, mntiter-of-faet. anrt tame-r, p:ls.ve an.l dy. It is not,
however, in thie formal gravity of style that Ilh so works r. sc,.ble history ;
but they imitate and reflect the features of the past in their most interre ting,
if not their most engaging aspect.
Besides tihe preceding, and one or two other productions of a siin;lr cnst,
Defoe producedl that v% ry excellent and popular work n titled Relirions
Courtshipp" which was first plulislied in 1722. and a:teirward went through
numerous editions. This and his l- Family Instructor' are replete with
lessons of the sounnest practical wisdom, and place their author among the
most extensively useful of our English moralists.
H.re, however, we must terminate our sketch, having barely left our-
selves room to mention a few particulars relative to the close of his life.
Although the profits accruing frnm his pub iecaions bad of late been con-
siderable, and he had been able to give a portion to his daughter Srophia,
who married Mr Baker, the c elebrated natural phlilosohlier, in 1729. yet
he was still doomed to contend with misfortune. In addition to the atflic-
tion of bodily infrmity and severe pain, he again fell into gra t pecuniary
'lilriculties, and was even arrested. He appears. however, to have recovered
li s liberty within a short time; but the unnatural conduct of his son. who
r, fn-ed to give up the property that had been intrusted to him, with a view
of securing a provision to his mother and two unmarried s st r. rswas a
he tvire blow than any he had before experienced ; and the mental anguish
it occasioned doubtless accelerated his death, wlich occurred on the 24th
of April, 1731. Since that period more than a century has elopsed ; and
in that interval many names of considerable eminence in their day have
sunk into irretrievable oblivion; Defoe, also, has lost some portion'of the
celebrity he enjoyed with his contemporaries ; et, after dednution. enonuh
remains to entitle him to a place among the worthies of English literature,
for should all his other productions be forgotten, his Robinson Crruoe mus
remain imperishable.























6tptar 011it.

Bobinaon's Family, etc.-His Elopement from his Parent.

SWAS born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a good
I' family, though not of that country, my father being a for-
Seigner of Bremen, named Kreutznaer, who settled firsk at
HIull. He got a good estate by merchandise, and leaving off
his trade, lived afterward at York; from whence he had married
my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very good family
in that country, and hfter whom I was so called, that is to say, Rob-
inson Kreutznaer; but by the usual corruption of words in England,
we are now called, nay, we call ourselves, and write our name, Crusoe;
and so my companions always called me.
I had two elder brothers, one of whom was lieutenant colonel, to
an English Regiment of foot in Flanders, formerly commanded by
the famous Colonel Lockhart, and was killed at the battle near Dun-
Skirk against the Spaniards. What became of my second brother, I
never knew, any more than my father and mother did know what was
become of me.
Being the third son of the family, and not bred to any trade, my
Lead began to be filled very early with rambling thoughts. My
father, who was very aged, had given me a competent share of learn-
ing, as far as house education and a country free school generally go,
and designed me for the law ; but I would be satisfied with nothing
but going to sea; and my inclination to this led me so strongly against
the will, nay, the commands of my father, and against all the entrea-
Stic and persuasions of my mother and other friends, that there seemed
4, 2







26 ADVENTURES OF

to be something fatal in that propension of nature, tend ng directly to
the life of misery which w'as to bef'll me.
My father, a wise and grave man, gave me serious and excellent
counsel against what he foresaw was my design. lie called me one
morning into his chamber, where he was confined by the gout, and
expostulated very warmly with me upon this subject; he asked me
what reasons, more than a mere wandering inclination, I had for
leaving his house, and my native country, where I might be well in.
trcduced, and had a prospect of raising any fortune, by application
and industry, with a life of ease and pleasure. lie told me it was
men of desperate fortunes, on one hand, or of superior fortunes, 3n
the other, who went abroad upon adventures, aspiring to rise by en-
terprise, and make themselves famous in undertakings of a nature out
of the common road; that these things were all either too far above
me, or too far below me; that mine was the middle state, or what
might be called the upper station of low life, which he had found, by
long experience, was the best state in the world, the most suited to
human happiness; not exposed to the miseries and hardships, the
labor and sufferings, of the mechanic part of mankind, and not em-
barrassed with the pride, luxury, ambition, and envy of the upper part
of mankind; ihe told me, I might judge of the happiness of this state
by one thing, viz., that this was the state of life which all other people
envied; that kings have frequently lamented the miserable conse-
quences of being born to great things, and wished they had been
placed in the middle of two extremes, between the mean and the great;
that the wise man gave his testimony to this as the just standard of
true felicity, when he prayed to have neither poverty nor riches."
lie bade me observe it, and I should always find, that the calamities
of life were shared among the upper and lower part of mankind but.
that the middle station had the fewest disasters, and was not exposed
to so many vicissitudes as the higher or lower part of mankind : nay,
they were not subjected to so many distempers and un asinesses, either
of body or mind, as those were, who, by vicious living, luxury, and
extravagancies, on the one hand, or by hard labor, want of neces.m,-
ries, and mean and insufficient diet, on the either hand, bring distem.
pers upon themselves by the natural consequences of their way (of
living; that the middle station of life was calculated for all kinds of
virtues, and all kinds of enjoyments; that peace and plenty were the
handmaids of a middle fortune; that temperance, moderation, quiet.
,ness, health, society, all agreeable diversions and all desirable pleas.
ures, were the blessings attending the middle station of life; that thi'







ROBINSO CRU60M


way men went silently and smoothly through the world, and comfort
ably out of it, not embarrassed with the labors of the hands or of the
head, not sold to the life of slavery for daily bread, or harassed with
perplexed circumstances, which rub the soul of peace, and the body
of rest; not enraged with the passion of envy, or secret burning lust
of ambition for great things; but, in easy circumstances, sliding gently
through the world, and sensibly tasting the sweets of living, without
the bitter; fecl'ng that they are happy, and learning, by every day's
experenic, to know it more sensibly.
After this he pressed me earnestly, and in the most affectiona54
manner, not to play the young man, nor to precipitate myself into
miseries which nature and the station of life I was born in, seemed to
have provided against; that 1 was under no necessity of seeking my
bread; that he would do well for me, and endeavor to enter me fairly
S into the station of life which he had been just recommending to me :
and that if I was not very easy and happy in the world, it must be
my mere f.te or fault that must hinder it; and that he should have
nothing to answer for, having thus discharged his duty in warning
me against measures which he knew would be to my hurt; in a word,
that, as he would do very kind things for me if I would stay and settle
at home, as he directed; so he would not have so much hand in my
misfortunes as to give me any encouragement to go away; and to close
all, he told me I had my elder brother for an example, to whom he
S had used the same earnest persuasions to keep him from going into
the Low Country wars; but could not prevail, his young desires
prompting him to run into the army, where he was killed; and though,
he said, he would not cease to pray for me, yet he would venture to
say to me, that if I did take this foolish step, God would not bless me,
and I would tlove leisure, hereafter, to reflect upon having neglected
his counsel, when there might be none to assist in my recovery.
I observed in the last part of his discourse, which was truly pro-
phetic, though, I suppose, my father did not know it to be so himself;
I say I observed the tears run down his face very plentifully, especially
when he spoke of my brother who was killed; and that, when he
spoke of my having leisure to repent, and none to assist me, he was
so moved that he broke off the discourse, and told me his heat was
so full, he could say no more to me.
1 was sincerely affected with this discourse, as, indeed, who could
be otherwise? and I resolved not to think of going abroad any more,
but to settle at home, according-to my father's .esire. But, al.s! a
S few days wore it all off; and, in short, to prevent any of my father'.







Z" ADVENTURES OF

further importunities, in a few weeks after, I resolved to run qmuto
away from him. However, I did not act so hastily neither, as my
frat heat of resolution prompted, but I took my mother, at a time
when I thought her a little pleasanter than ordinary, and told her that
my thoughts were so entirely bent upon seeing the world that I should
never settle to anything with resolution enough to go through with it,
and my father had better give me his consent than force me to go
without it; that I was now eighteen years old, which was tuo late to
go apprentice to a trade, or clerk to an attorney; that I was sure, if I
did, I should never serve out my time, and I should certainly run
away from my master before my time was out, and go to sea; and if
she would speak to my father to let me make but one yoyage aLroad,
if I came home again, and did not like it, I would go no more, and I
Would promise by a double diligence, to recover the time I had lost.
This put my mother into a great passion ; she told me she knew it
would be to no purpose to speak to my father upon any such a sub-
ject; that he knew too well what was my interest to give his consent
to anything so inmuch to my hurt, and that she wondered how I could
think of any such thing, after the discourse I had had with my father,
and such kind and tender expressions as she knew my father had used
to me; and that, in short, if I would ruin myself, there was no help
for me; but I might depend I should never have their consent to it;
that, for her part, she would not have so much hand in my destruc-
tion, and I should never have it to say that my mother was willing
when my father was not.
Though my mother refused to move it to my father, yet I heard
afterward, that she reported all the discourse to him ; and that my
father, after showing great concern at it, said to her, with a sigh,
" That boy might be happy if he would stay at home, but if he goes
abroad he will be the most miserable wretch that ever was born ; I
can give no consent to it."
It was not till almost a year after this that I broke loose, though
in the meantime I continued obstinately deaf to all proposals of set-
tling to business, and frequently expostulating with my father and
mother about their being so positively determined against what they
knew my inclinations prompted me to. But, being one day at Hull,
whither I went casually, and without any purpose of making an
elopement at that time, and one of my companions then going to
London by sea in his father's ship, and prompting me to go with them
by the common allurement of seafaring men, viz., that it should cost
me nothing for my passage, I consulted neither father nor mother







ROBINSON CRUSOE 2g

any more, nor so much as sent them word of it, but left them to heat
of it as they might; without asking God's blessing, or my father's,
without any consideration of circumstances or consequences, and in
an ill hour, God knows.





First Adventures at Sea, and Experience of a Maritime Life-Voyage to Gainea

N the 1st of September, 1651, I went on board a ship bound
for London. Never any young adventurer's misfortunes, I
believe, began younger, or continued longer than mine.
Thle ship had no sooner got out of the HIumber than the
wind began to blow, and the waves to rise in a most frightful man.
ner; and, as I had never been at sea before, I was most inexpressibly
sick in body and terrified in miud. I began now seriously to reflect
upon what I had done, and how justly I was overtaken by the judg-
ment of Heaven, for wickedly leaving my father's house. All the
good counsels of my parents, my father's tears, and my mother's en-
treaties, came now fresh into my mind, and my conscience, which
was not yet come to the pitch of hardness to which it has been since,
reproached me with the contempt of advice and the abandonment of
duty.
All this while the storm increased, and the sea, which I had never
been upon before, went very high, though nothing like what I have
seen many times since; na, nor what I saw a few days after; but,
such as it was, enough to affect me then, who was but a young sailor,
and had never known anything of the matter. I expected every wave
would have swallowed us up, and at every time the ship fell down,
as I thought, into the trough or hollow of the sea, we should never
rise more; and, in this agony of mind, I made many vows and reo
lutions, that if it would please God to spare my life this voyage, if
ever I got my foot once on dry land, I would go directly home to my
father, and never set it into a ship again while I lived; that I would
take his advice, and never run myself into such miseries as these any
more. Now I saw plainly the goodness of his observations about the
middle station of life; how easy, how comfortable he had lived all
his days, and never had been exposed to tempests at sea or troubles
on shore, and I resolved that I would, like a true repenting prodigal
go home to my father.







ADVENTURES Or


These wise and sober thoughts continued during the storm, and,
indeed, some time after; but the next day, as the wind was abated,
and the sea calmer, I began to he a little inured to it. However, I
was very grave that day, being also a little seasick still-but toward
night the weather cleared up, the wind was quite over, and a charm-
ing fine evening followed; the sun went dawn perfectly clear, and
rose so the next morning, and having little or no wind and a smooth
sea, the sun shining upon it, the sight was, as I thought, the most de
lightful that I ever saw.
I had slept well in the night, and was now no more seasick but
very cheerful, looking with wonder upon the sea that was so rough
and terrible the day before, and could be so calm and pleasant in a
little time after.
And now, lest my good resolution should continue, my companion,
who had indeed enticed me away, came to me and said, "Well, Bob,"
clapping me on the shoulder, how do you do after it ? I warrant
you were frightened, wasn't you, last night, when it blew but a cap
full of wind ?" A cap full, do you call it ?" said I; 'twas a ter-
rible storm." "A storm, you fool !" replies he, do you call that a
storm 7 Why, it was nothing at all; give us but a good ship and sea
room, and we think nothing of such a squall of wind as that. You
are but a fresh water sailor, Bob; come, let us make a bowl of punch,
and we'll forget :ll that. D'ye see what charming weather 'tis now ?"
To make short this sad part of my story, we went the way of all sail.
ors; the punch was made, and I was made drunk with it; and in that
one night's wickedness I drowned all my repentance, all my reflections
upon my past conduct, and all my resolutions for the future. In word,
as the sea was returned to its smoothness of surface and settled calm-
ness by the abatement of the storm, so the hurry of my thoughts being
over, my fears and apprehensions of being swallowed up by the sea
forgotten, and the current of my former desires returned, I entirely
forgot the vows and promises I had made in my distress. I found,
indeed, some intervals of reflection, and serious thoughts did, as it
were, endeavor to return again sometimes; but I shook them off, and
roused myself from them as it were from a distemper, and applying
myself to drink and company, soon mastered the return of those fits,
for so I called them, and had, in five or six days, got as complete a
victory over conscience as any young sinner that resolved not to be
troubled with it could desire. But, as I was to have another trial for
it still, anil Providence, as in such cases generally it does, resolved to
leave me entirely without excuse; for, if I would not take this for a






ROBINSON CBUSO. 81

deliverance, the next was to be such a one as the worst and most
hardened wretch among us would confess both the danger and the
mercy of.
The sixth day of our being at sea we came into Yarmouth Roads
the wind having been contrary, and the weather calm, we had made
but little way since the storm. Here we were obliged to come to aa
anchor, and here we lay, the wind continuing contrary, viz., at south.
west, for seven or eight days, during which time a great many ships
from Newcastle came into the same roads as the common harbor
where the ships might wait for a svind for the river Thames. We
had not, however, rid here so long but we should have tided up the
ri\cr, but that the wind blew too fresh, and after we had lain four
or five days, blew very hard. However, the roads being reckoned as
good as a harbor, the anchorage good, and our ground tackle very
strong, our men were unconcerned, and not in the least apprehensive
of danger, but spent the time in rest and mirth, after the manner of
the sea. But the eighth day, in the morning, the wind increased, and
we had all hands at work to strike our topmasts, and make every.
thing snug and close, that the ship might ride as easy as possible.
By noon the sea went very high indeed, and our ship rode forecastle
in, shipped several seas, and we thought, once or twice, our anchor
had cone home, upon which our master ordered out the sheet-anchor,
so that we rode with two anchors ahead, and the cables veered nut to
the better end.
By this time it blew a terrible storm, indeed; and now I began to
see terror and ama::ement in the faces of even the seamen themselves.
The master was vigilant in the business of preserving the ship; but, as
he went in and out of his cabin by me, I could hear him softly say to
himself several times, Lord, be merciful to us! we shall be all lost;
we shall be all undone!" and the like. During these first hurries I was
stupid, lying still in my cabin, which was in the steerage, and cannot
describe my temper. I could ill reassume the first penitence, which I
had so trampled upon, and hardened myself against; I thought that
the bitterness of death had been p ist, and that this would have been
nothing too, like the first; but when the master himself came by me,
as I said just now, and said we should all be lost, I was dreadfully
frightened. I got up out of my cabin, and looked out; but such a dis.
mal sight I never saw; the sea went mountains high, and broke upon
us every three or four minutes. When I could look about, I could see
nothing but distress around us; two ships, that rid near us, wo found
liad cut their masts by the board, being deeply laden;. and our mer







S ADVENTURES OF

criea out that a ship, which rid about a mile ahead of us, was found
ered. Two more ships being driven from their anchors, were run o1u
of the road to sea, at all adventures, and that with nut a mast standing
The light ships fared the best, as not so much laboring in the sea : but
two or three of them drove, and came close to us, running away, with
only their spritsails out, before the wind. Toward evening, the mate
and boatswain of our ship begged the master to let them cut away the
foremast, which he was very loath to do ; but the boatswain protesting
to him that if he did not, the ship would founder, he consented; and
when they had cut away the foremast, the mainmast stood so loose, and
shook the ship so much, that they were obliged to cutit away also, and
make a clear deck.
Any one may judge what a condition I must be in at all this, who
was but a youig sailor, and who had been in such a fright before at
but a little. But if I can express, at this distance, the thoughts I hld
about me at that time, I was in tenfold more horror of mind upon a'-
count of my former convictions, and the having returned from themi to
tlhe resolutions I had wickedly taken at first, than I was at death itself;
and these, added to the terror of the storm, nut me into such a co ndi-
tion, that I can by no words describe it; but the worst was not 'roinu
yet; the storm continued with such fury, that the seamen thiemsr.lves
acknowledged they had never known.' a w )rse. We had a good hlip,
but she was deep laden, and so swallow ed in the sea, that the seanw'n
every now and then cried out she would founder. It was my advNan-
tage, in one respect, that I did not know what they meant by founier
till I inquired. IIowever, the storm was so violent, that I saw what is
not often seen, the master, the boatswain, and some others more sensible
than the rest, at their prayers, and expecting every moment the ship
would go to the bottom. In the middle of the night, and under all the
rest of our distresses, one of the men, that lhad been down on purpose
to see, cried out, we had sprung a le.k ; another said there was four
feet water in the hold. Then all hands were called to the pump. At
that very word my heart, as I thought, died within me, and I fell back-
v ard upon the side of my bed, where I sat in the cabin. However, the
men roused me, and told me that I, who was able to do nothing before,
was as well able to pump as another: at which I stirred up and went
to the pump, and worked very heartily. While this was doing, the
master seeing some light colliers, who, not able to ride out the storm,
were obliged to slip and run away to sea, and would not come near us,
ordered us to fire a gun, as a signal of distress. I, who knew nothing
what that meant, was so surprised, that I thought the ship hd broke







ROUnrSON CRuso. C8

or some dreadful thing had happened. In a word, I was so surprises
that I fell down in a swvoon. As this was a time when everybody had
his own life to think of, no one minded me, or wh.at was become of me
but another man stepped up to the pump, and thrust me aside with his
foot, let me lie, thinking 1 had been dead; and it was a great while
b: ftre I came to myself.
We worked on; but the water increasing in the hold, it was appa-
i rnt that the ship would founder; and though the storm began to abate
a little, yet it was not possible she could swim till we might run into a
port, so the master continued firing guns for help; and a light ship,
who had rid it out just ahead of us, ventured a boat out to help us. It
was with the utmost hazard that the boat came near us, but it was im-
possible for us to get on board, or for the boat to lie near the ship,'s
side; till at last the men rowing very heartily, and venturing their
lives to save ours, our men cast tlhnm a rope over the stern, with a buoy
to it, and then veered it out a great length, which they, after great labor
and hazard, took hold of, and we hauled them close under our stern,
and got all into their boat. It was to no purpose for them or us, after
we were in the boat, to think of reaching their own ship; so all agreed
to let her drive, and only to pull her toward shore as much as we
could: and our master promised them, that if the boat was staved upon
shore, he would make it good to their master ; so partly rowing and
partly driving, our boat went away to the northward, sloping toward
tle shore almost as far as Winterton-Ness.
We were not much more than a quarter of an hour out of our ship
when we saw her sink, and then I understood, for the first time, what
was meant by a ship's foundering in the sea. I must acknowledge, I
had hardly eyes to look up when the seamen told me she was sinking,
for from that moment they rather put me into the boat than that I might
be said to go in. My heart was, as it were, dead within me, partly with
fright, partly with horror of mind, and the thoughts of what was yet
before me.
While we were in this condition, the men yet laboring at the oar to
bring the boat near the shore, we could see (when, our boat mounting
the waves, we were able to see the shore) a great many people running
along the strand, to assist us when we should come near: but we made
slow ray toward the shore, nor were we able to reach it, till, being
past the lighthouse at Winterton, the shore falls off to the westward,
toward Cromer, and so the laud broke off a little the violence of the
wind. Here we got in, and though not without much difficulty, got all
S afe on shore, and walked afterward on foot to Yarmouth, where, au







S4 ADVENTURES OF

unfortunate men. we were used with great humanity, as well by thi
nirigistat'. s of the town, who assigned us good quarters, as by the la."
tiuIlar imerchants and owners of ships; and had money giv.-n us suffi-
cient to carry us either to London or back to Hull, as we saw fit.
Had I now had the sense to have gone back to Hull, and have gone
home 1 had been happy; and my father, an emblem of our blessed
Savio-ir's parable, had even killed the fatted calf for me; for, hearing
the Fhip I went in was cast away in Yarmouth Roads, it was a great
while before he had any assurance that I was not drowned.
But my ill fate pushed me on with an obstinacy that nothing could
resist; and though I had several times loud calls frim my reason,
uad my more composed judgment to go home, yet I had no power to
do it. I know not what to call this, nor will I urge that it is a
secret, overruling decree, that hurries us on to be the instruments of
our own destruction, even though it be before us, and that we rush
upon it with our eyes open. Certainly, nothing but some such decreed
unavoidable misery attending, and which it was impossible for me
to eseale, could have pushed me forward against the calm reasoning
and norsuasions of my most retired thoughts, and against two such
visible instructions as I had met with in my first attempt.
My comrade, who had helped to harden me before, and who was
the m:sitcr'., son, was now less forward than I. The first time he spoke
to me after we were at Yarmouth, which was not till two or three
dc.;s. for we were separated in the town to several quarters ; I say,
the first time he saw me, it appeared his tone was altered, and. looking
very melancholy and slaking his head, he asked me how I did; tell-
ing his father who I was, and how I had come this voyage only for a
trial. in order to go farther abroad. His father, turning to me, with
a grave and concerned tone: Young man," says he, you had never
ought to go to sea any more; you ought to take this for a plain and
visible token, that you are not to be a seafaring man." : Why, sir,"
said I, will vou go to sea no more ?" That is another case," sail
he: 'it !- :,y calling, and therefore my duty; but as you made
:his vovane for a trial, you see what a taste Heaven has given you of
wlhat you are to expect if you persist. Perhaps this has all befallen
us your account, like Jonah in the ship of Tarshish. Pray," con-
tinues le, what are you. and on what account did you go to sea?"
Upon that I told him some of my story; at theend of which he burst
out with a strange kind of passion. What had I done," said he
"that such an unhappy wretch should have come into my ship ? I
would not set my foot in the sane ship with thee again for a thou.






ROBINSON CRUSOE.


sand pounds." This indeed was, as I said, an excursion of his spirits
which were yet agitated by the sense of his loss, and was farther than
he could have authority to go. However, he afterward talked very
gravely to me ; exhorted me to go back to my father, and not tempt
Providence to my ruin ; told me, I might see a visible hand of Heaven
against me; "and, young man," said he, "depend upon it, if you do
not go back, wherever you go, you will meet with nothing but dis.
asters and disappointments, till your father's words are fulfilled upon
you."
We parted soon after, for I made him little answer, and I saw him
no more: which way he went, I know not: as for me, having some
money in my pocket, I travelled to London by land; and there, as well
as on the road, had many struggles with myself what course of life I
should take, and whether I should go home or go to sea. As to going
home, shame opposed the best motions that offered to my thoughts;
and it immediately occurred to me, how I should be laughed at among
the neighbors, and should be ashamed to see, not my father and
mother only, but even everybody else. From whence I have often
since observed how incongruous and irrational the common temper of
mankind is, especially of youth, to that reason which ought to guide
them in such cases, viz., that they are not ashamed to sin, and yet are
ashamed to repent; not ashamed of the action, for which they ought
justly to be esteemed fools; but are ashamed of the returning, which
only can make them be esteemed wise men.
In this state of life, however, I remained some time, uncertain
what measures to take, and what course of life to lead. An irresist-
ible reluctance continued to going home; and as I stayed awhile, the
remembrance of the distress I had been in wore off, and as that
abated, the little motion I had in my desires to a return wore off with
it, till at last I quite laid aside the thoughts of it, and looked out for
a voyage. That evil influence which carried me first away from my
father's house, that hurried me into the wild and indigested action of
raising my fortune, and that impressed those conceits so forcibly upon
me, as to make me deaf to all good advice, and to the entreaties, and
even the commands of my father; I say, the same influence, whatever
it was, presented the most unfortunate of all enterprises tc my view;
and I went on board a vessel bound to the coast of Africa; or, as our
sailors vulgarly call it, a voyage to Guinea.
It was my great misfortune, that in all these adventures I did not
ship myself as a sailor: whereby, though I might indeed have worked
a little harder than ordinary, yet, at that tme, I had learned the duty







S6 ADVENTURES 01

and office of a foremastman, and in time might have qualified myself for
a mate or lieutenant, if not a master; but as it was always my fate to
choose for the worse, so I did here; for having money in my pocket,
snd good clothes upon my back, I would always go on board in the
habit of a gentleman : and so I neither had any business in the ship,
nor learned to do any. It was my lot, first of all, to fall into pretty
good company in London; which does not always happen to such
loose and misguided young fellows as I then was; the devil, generally,
not omitting to lay some snare for them very early. But it was not
so with me: I first fell acquainted with the master of a ship, who had
been on the coast of Guinea, and who, having had very good success
there, was resolved to go again. IIe, taking a fancy to my conversa-
tion, which was not at all disagreeable at that time, and hearing me
say I had a mind to see the world, told me, that if I would go the voy-
age with him, I should be at no expense; I should be his messmate and
his companion ; and if I could carry anything with me, I should have
all the advantage of it that the trade would admit; and, perhaps, I
might meet with sonic encouragement. I embraced the offer, and
entering into a strict friendship with this captain,who was an honest
and plain-dealing man, I went the voyage with him, and carried a
small adventure with me; which, by the disinterested honesty of my
friend the captain, I increased very considerably; for I carried about
forty pounds of such toys and trifles as the captain directed me to
buy. This forty pounds I had mustered together by the assistance
of some of my relations whom I corresponded with ; and who, I
believe, got my father, or, at least my mother, to contribute so much
A.i that to my first adventure. This was the only voyage which I may
say was successful in all my adventures, and which I owe to the in-
tegrity and honesty of my friend the captain ; under whom I also got
a competent knowledge of mathematics and the rules of navigation,
learned how to keep an account of the ship's course, take an observation,
and, in short, to understand some things that were needful to be un-
derstood by a sailor ; for, as he took delight to instruct me, I took
delight to learn ; and, in a word, this voyage made me both a sailor
znd a merchant. For I brought home five pounds nine ounces (of
gold-dust for my adventure, which yielded me in London, at n:y
return, almost three hundred pounds, and this filled me with those
aspiring thoughts which have since so completed my ruin. Yet even
in this voyage I had my misfortunes, too; particularly that I was
continually sick, being thrown into a violent calenture by the excess.
rive heat of the climate; our principal trading being upon the
coast, from the latitude of fifteen degrees north, even to the Line itself






ROBINSON CRUSOE.


Bobinson's Captivity at Sallee-E-cape with Xury-Arrival at th3 Brazis.


great misfortune, dying soon after his arrival, I resolved to go
the same voyage again; and I embarked in the same vessel
with one who was his mate in the former voyage, and had now
gt tue command of the ship. This was the unhappiest voyage that
ever man made; for though I did not carry quite a hundred pounds
of my new-gained wealth, so that I had two hundred pounds left, and
which I lodged with my friend's widow, who was very just to me, yet
I fell into terrible misfortunes in this voyage : and the first was this,
viz.: our ship, making her course toward the Canary Islands, or
rather between those islands and the African shore, was surprised, in
the gray of the morning, by a Turkish rover, of Sallee, who gave chase
to us with all the sail she could make. We crowded also as much
canvas as our yards would spread, or our masts carry, to get clear;
but finding the pirate gained upon us, and would certainly come up
with us in a few hours, we prepared to fight, our ship having twelve
guns and the rover eighteen. About three in the afternoon he came
up with us; and bringing to, by mistake, just athwart our quarter, in-
stead of athwart our stern, as he intended, we brought eight of our
guns to bear on that side, and poured in a broadside upon him, which
made him sheer off again, after returning our fire, and pouring in also
his small shot from near two hundred men which he had on board.
However, we had not a man touched, all our men keeping close. Ie
prepared to attack us again, and we to defend ourselves; but laying
us on board the next time upon our quarter, he entered sixty men upon
our decks, who immediately fell to cutting and hacking the sails and
rigging. We plied them with small shot, half-pikes, powder-chests,
anld such like, and cleared our deck of them twice. However, to cut
short this melancholy part of our story, our ship being disabled, and
t':''ee of our men killed and eight wounded, we were obliged to yield,
nu.l were carried all prisoners into Sallee, a port belonging to the
Moors.
The usage I had there was not so dreadful as at first I apprehended;
nor was I carried up the country to the emperor's court, as the rest
of our men were, but was kept by the captain of the rover as his proper
prize, and made his slave, being young and nimble, and fit for his busi-






ADVENTJR S OF


ness. At this surprising cha:lge of my circumstances, from a merchant
to a mirsarable slav, I was perfectly overwhelmed; and now looked
back upon my tf.uhr's prophetic discourse to me, that I should be
miserable and have none to relieve me: which I thought was now so
eifcctually brought to pass, that it could not be worse; that now the
hand of Ileaven had overtaken me, and I was undone, without-rcdemp-
tion. But, alas! this was but a tioste of the misery I was to go through,
as will appear in the sequl of this story.
As my new patron, or master, had taken me home to his house, so 1
was in hopes he would take me with him when he went to sea again,
believing that it would, some time or other, be his fate to be taken by
a Spanish or Portuguese man-of-war, and that then I should be set at
liberty. But this hope of mine was soon taken away, for when he
went to sea, he left me on shore to look after his little garden, and do
the connmon drudgery of slaves about his house ; and when he came
home again from his cruise, lie ordered me to lie in the cabin, to look
after the ship.
Here I meditated nothing but my escape, and what method I might
take to effect it, but found no way that had the least probability in it.
Nothing presented to nmike the supposition of it rational; for 1 had
nobody to comnmunicate it to that would embark with me ; no fellow-
slave, no Engli shman, Irislhman, or Scotchman, there but myself: so
that for two years, though I often pleased myself with the imagina-
tion, yet I never had the least encouraging prospect of putting it in
practice.
After about two years, an odd circumstance presented itself, which
put the old thought of making some attempt for my liberty again in
my head. My patron lying at home longer than usual, without fitting
out Iis ship, which, as I heard, was for want of money, lie used con-
stantly, once or twice a week, sometimes oftener, if the weather was
fair, to take the ship's pinnacle, and go out into the road a fishing;
and as he always took me and a young Moresco with him to row the
boat, we made him very merry, and I proved very dexterous in catch-
ing fish, insomuch that sometimes he would send me with a Moor, one
of his kinsmen, and the youth, the Moresco, as they called him, to catch
a dish of fish for hinm.
It happened one time, that going a fishing in a stark calm morning,
a fog ros" so thick. thlit though we were not half a league from the
shore, we lost sight i fit; and rowing, we knew not whither, or which
way, we labored all day, and all the next night, and when the morn-
ing came, we found we had pulled off to sea, instead of pulling in for







ROBINSON CRUSOE.


the shore, and that wo were at least two leagues from the shore: how.
ever, wo got well in again, though with a great deal of labor, and
some danger, for the wind began to blow pretty fresh in the morning;
but particularly we were all very hungry.
Lut our patron, warned by this disaster, resolved to take more care
of himself for the future; and having lying by him the longboat of our
English ship lie had taken, he resolved he would not go a fishing any
more without a compass and some provision; so he ordered the car-
penter of the ship, who was an English slave, to build a little state-
room or cabin in the middle of the longboat, like that of a barge, with
a lace to stand behind it, to steer and haul home the main sheet, and
room before for a hand or two to stand and work the sails. She sailed
with what we call a shoulder-of-mutton sail, and the boom jibbed over
the top of the cabin, which lay very snug and low, and had in it room
for him to lie, with a slave or two, and a table to eat on, with some
small lockers to put in some bottles of such liquor as he thought fit to
drilk, and particularly his bread, rice, and coffee.
We went frequently out with this boat a fishing, and as I was most
dexterous to catch fish for him, lie never went without me. It hap-
pened that he had appointed to go out in this boat, either for pleasure
or for fish, with two or three Moors of some distinction in that place,
and for whom he had provided extraordinarily, and had therefore sent
on board the boat, overnight, a larger store of provisions than ordinary,
and had ordered me to get ready three fusees, with powder and shot,
which were on board his ship, for that they designed some sport of
fowling as well as fishing.
I got all things ready as he directed, and waited the next morning
with the boat washed clean, her ensign and pendants out, and every-
thing to accommodate his guests: when, by-and-by, my patron came
on board alone, and told me his guests had put off going, upon some
business that fell out, and ordered me with a man and boy, as usual,
to go out with the boat, and catch them some fish, for that his friends
were to sup at his house; and commanded, that as soon as I had got
some fish, I should bring it home to his house : all which I prepared
to do.
This moment my former notions of deliverance darted into my
thoughts, for now I found I was like to have a little ship at my com-
mand ; and my master being gone, I prepared to furnish myself, not
for a fishing business, but for a voyage ; though I knew not, neither did
I so much as consider, whither I should steer; for anywhere, to get
out of that place, was my way.







40 ADVENTURES OF

My first contrivance was to make a pretence to speak to this Moor,
to get l '. _or our subsistence on board; for I told him we nmusl
not presume to eat of our patron's bread : h said that was true so he
broug it a iar :e basket of rusk or biscuit, of their kind, and three jars
with fresh water, into the boat. I knew where my patron's case of
bottles stood, which it was evident, by the make, were taken out of
somne English prize, and I conveyed them into the boat while the Moor
was on shore, as if they had been there before for our master. I con.
vcyed also a great lump of beeswax into the boat, which weighed about
half a hundred weight, with a parcel of twine or thread, a hatchet, a
saw, and a hammer, all which were of great use to us afterward, es-
pecially the wax, to make candles. Another trick I tried upon him,
which lie innocently came into also; his name was Ishmael, whom
they call Muley, or Miley : so I called to him ; Moley," said I," our
patron's guns are on board the boat, can you get a little powder and
shot ? it may be we may kill some alcamies (towls like our curlews)
for o:iseclves, for I know lie keeps the gunner's stores in the ship "
" Yes," says le, I will bring some ;" and accordingly lie brought a
great leather pouch, which held about a poued and a half of powder
or rather more, and another of shot, ttiat had five or six pounds, with
some bullets, and put all into the boat: at the same time I found sonea
powder of my master's in the great cabin, with which I filled one of
the large bottles in the case, which was almost empty, pouring what
was in it into another ; and thus furnished with everything needful, we
sailed out of the port to fish. The castle, which is at the entrance of
the port, knew who we were, and took no notice of us ; and we wre
not above a mile out of the port, before wre hauled in our sail, and set
us down to fish. The wind blew from N. N. E., which was contrary to
my desire; for had it blown southerly, I had been sure to have made
the coast of Spain, and at last reached the bay of Cadiz: but my reso-
lutions were, blow which way it would, I would be gone from the hor-
rid place where I was, and leave the rest to fate.
After we had fished some time and catched nothing, for when I hald
fish on my hook I would not pull them up; that he might not see them,
I slid to the Moor, "This will not do, our master will not ie thus
served-we must stand farther off." IIe, thinking no harm, agreed ;
and being at the head of the boat, set the sails: and as I had the
helm, I ran the boat near a league farther, and then brought to as if I
would fish. Their giving the boy the helm, I stepped forward to where
the Moor was, and I took him by surprise, with my arm under his
waist, and tossed himn clear overboard into the sea. lie rose imnredi-







ROBINSON CRUSOE.


ately, for he swam like a cork, and called to me, begged to be taken
in, and told me he would go all the world over with me. lie swam
to stronii after the boat, tlht he would IIve reached me ver)
quickly, tl'ere being but little wind; upon which I stepped into the
cabin and fetched one of the fowling pieces ; I presented it at him, and
told hin I hid done him no hurt, and if lie would he quiet, I would
do him none. But," said I, you swim well enough to reach the
shore, and the sea is calhu; make the best of your way to shore, and 1
will do you no harm ; but if you come near the boat, I will shoot you
through the head ; for I am resolved to have my liberty." So lie
turned himself about, and swam for the shore ; and I make no doubt
but lie reached it with ease, for he was an excellent swinuner.
I could have been content to have taken this Moor with me, and
have drowned the boy, but there was no venturing to trust him. When
lie was gone, I turned to the boy, whom they called Xury, and said to
him, Xury, if you will be faithful to -me I will make you a great
man but if you will not stroke your face to be true to me" (that is,
swear by M1 ah!omt and his father's heard), "1 m1ust throw you into the
sea too." The hoy smiled in nmy face, and spoke so innocently, that I
could not mistrust hlin ; and swore to be faithful to me, and go all
over the world witli me.
While I was in view of the Moor that was swimming, I stood out di-
rectly to sea with the boat, rather stretching to windward, that they might
think me gone toward the strait's mouth (as, indeed, any one, that had
been in their wits, must have been supposed to do); for who would have
supposed we were sailing on to the southward, to the truly Barbarian
coast, where whole nations of negroes were sure to surround us with
their canoes, and destroy us; where we could never once go on shore
but we should be devoured by savage beasts, or more merciless sava-
ges of human kind ?
But as soon as it grew dusk in the evening, I changed my course,
and steered directly south and by east, bending my course a little to-
ward the ea.st, that I might keep in with the shore; and having a fair
fresh gale of wind, and a smooth quiet sea, I made such sail that, I
believe by the next day, at three o'clock in the afternoon, when I
made the land, I could not be less than one hundred and fifty miles
south of Sallee, quite beyond the Emperor of Morocco's dominions, or
indeed, of any other king thereabout, for we saw no people.
Yet such was the fright I had taken at the Moors, and the dreadful
apprehensions I had of falling into their hands, that I would not stop
or go on shore, or come to an anchor, the wind continuing fair, till 1







42 ADVJEMTUBE OF

had sailed in that manner five days; and then the wind shifing to the
southward, I concluded also that if any of our vessels were in chase
of me, they also would now give over; so I ventured to make the
coast and came to an anchor in the mouth of a little river; I knew
not what or where, neither what latitude, what country, what nation.
or what river. I neither saw nor desired to see any people; the prin-
cipal thing I wanted was fresh water. We came into this creek in
the evening, resolving to swim on shore as soon as it was dark, and
discover the country; but as soon as it was quite dark, we heard such
dreadful noises of the barking, roaring and howling of wild creatures,
of we knew not what kinds, that the poor boy was ready to die with
fear, and begged of me not to go on shore till day. Well, Xury,"
said I, then I will not; but it may be, we may see men by day, who
will be as bad to us as those lions." Then we may give them the
shoot-gun," says Xury, laughing; "make them run away." Such
English Xury spoke by conversing among us slaves. However, I was
glad to see the boy so cheerful, and I gave him a dram out of our
patron's case of bottles to cheer him up. After all Xury's advice was
good and I took it. We dropped our little anchor, and lay still all
night. I say still, for we slept none, for in two or three hours we
saw vast creatures (we knew not what to call them), of many sorts,
come down to the sea-shore, and run into the water, wallowing and
washing themselves, for the pleasure of cooling themselves; and they
made such hideous howlings and yelling, that I never, indeed, heard
the like.
Xury was dreadfully frightened, and, indeed, so was I too; but we
were both more frightened when we heard one of these mighty crea-
tnres swimming toward our boat; we could not see him, but we
might hear him by his blowing to be a monstrous, huge, and furious
beast. Xury said it was a lion, and it might be so for aught I know;
but poor Xury cried to me to weigh the anchor and row away. "No,"
says I, Xury, we can slip our cable with a buoy to it, and go off to
sea; they cannot follow us far." I had no sooner said so but I per
ccived the creature, whatever it was, within two oars' length, which
something surprised me; however, I immediately stepped to the cabin
door, and taking up my gun, fired at him; upon which he immedi-
ately turned about, and swam to the shore again.
But it was impossible to describe the horrible noises and hideous
cries and howling that were raised, as well upon the edge of the
shore as higher within the country, upon the noise or report of the
gun; a thing, I believe, those creatures had never hoard before. This







ROBISBO CRUSOE. 45

convinced me there was no going on shore for us in the night upon
that coast: and how to venture on shore in the day, was another
question too; for to have fallen into the hands of any of the savages,
h:id been as bad as to have fallen into the paws of lions and tigers;
at least we were equally apprehensive of the danger of it.
Be that as it would, we were obliged to go on shore somewhere or
other for water, for we had not a pint left in the boat; when and
where to get it was the point. Xury said, if I would let him go on
shore with one of the jars, he would find if there was any water, and
bring some to me. I asked him why he would go; why I should not
go, and he stay in the boat ? The boy answered with so much affec-
tion that he made me love him ever after. Says he, "If wild mans
come they eat me, you go away." Well, Xury," said I, we will
both go, and if the wild mans come we will kill them; they shall eat
neither of us." So I gave Xury a piece of rusk bread to cat, and a
drain out of our patron's case of bottles, which I mentioned before,
and we hauled in the boat as near the shore as we thought proper,
and so waded to shore, carrying nothing but our arms and two jars
for water.
I did not care to go out of sight of the boat, fearing the coming of
canoes with savages down the river, but the boy, seeing a low place
about a mile up the country, rambled to it, and by-and-by I saw him
come running toward me. I thought he was pursued by some savage,
or frightened by some wild beast, and I therefore ran forward to help
him, but when I came nearer to him I saw something hanging over
his shoulders, which was a creature that le had shot, like a hare. but
different in color, and longer legs; however, we were very glad of it,
and it was very good meat. But the great joy that poor Xury came
with, was to tell me he had found good water, and seen no wild mans.
But we found, afterward, that we need not take such pains for water,
for a little higher up the creek where we were, we found the water
fresh when the tide was out, which flowed but a little way up; so we
filled our jars, and having a fire, feasted on the hare we had killed,
a:d prepared to go on our way, having seen no footsteps of any hu-
man creature in that part of the country.
As I had been one voyage to this coast before, 1 knew very well
that the islands of the Canaries, and the Cape do Verd islands also,
lay not far from the coast: but as I had no instruments to take an
observation, to find what latitude we were in, and did not exactly
know, or at least remember what latitude they were in, I knew not
where to look for them, or when to stand off to sea toward them,







ADVENTURES OF


otherwise I might now have easily found some of these islands; but
my hope was, that if I stood along this coast till I came to the part
where the English traded, I should find some of their vessels upon
their usual design of trade, that would relieve and take us in.
By the best of my calculation, the place where I now was, must be
that country which, lying between the Emperor of Morocco's domin-
ioins and the Negroes, lies waste and uninhabited, except by wild
beasts, the Negroes having abandoned it and gone farther south, for
fear of the Moors, and the Moors not thinking it worth inhabiting, by
reason of its barrenness: and, indeed, both forsaking it because of the
prodigious numbers of tigers, lions, leopards, and other furious crea-
tures which harbor there, so that the Moors use it for their hunting
only-where they go like an army, two or three thousand men at a
time-and, indeed, for near a hundred miles together upon this coast,
we saw nothing but a waste, uninhabited country, by day, and heard
nothing but howling and roaring of wild beasts by night.
Once or twice, in the daytime, I thought I saw the Pico of Tene-
riffe, being the top of the mountain Teneriffe, in the Canaries, and
had a great mind to venture out, in hope of reaching thither, but hav-
ing tried twice, I was forced in again by contrary winds, the sea al.o
going too high for my little vessel, so I resolved to pursue my tirst
design, and keep along the shore.
Several times I was obliged to land for fresh water, after we had
left this place, and once in particular, being early in the morning, wo
came to an anchor under a little point of land, which was pretty high,
and the tide beginning to flow we lay still, to go farther in. Xury,
whose eyes were more about him than it seems inino were, calls softly
to me, and tells me that we had best go further off the shore ; fr,
says he, loio! yonder lies a dreadful monster on the side of that
hillock, f.st asleep." I looked where he pointed, and saw a dreadful
monster, indeed, for it was a terrible great lion, that lay on the side
of the shore, under the shade of a piece of the hill, that hung, as it
were, over him.
Xiry:" says I, you shall go on shore and kill him." Xury looked
frightened, and said, "3Me kill! he eat me at one mouth;" one mouth-
ful, lie meant. However, I said no more to the boy, but bade him he
still, and I took our biggest gun, which was almost musket bore, and
loaded it with a good charge of powder and with two slugs, and laid
it down; then I loaded another gun with two bullets, and a third, for
we had three pieces, I loaded with five smaller bullets. I took the
best aim I could with the first piece to have shot him in the head,







ROBLNSON CRUSOE. 45

but he lay so, with his log raised a little above his nose, that the
slugs hit his log about the knee, and broke the bone; he started up,
growling at first, but finding his leg broke fell down again, and then
got up on three legs and gave the moot hideous roar that ever I heard.
I was a little surprised that I had not hit him on the head ; however,
I took up the second piece immediately, and though he began to move
of, fired again and shot him in the head, and had the pleasure to see
him drop and make but little noise, but lie struggling for life. Then
Xury took heart, and would have me let him go on shore. "Well,
go," said I. So the boy jumped into the water and taking a little
gun in one hand, swam to shore with the other hand, and coming
close to the creature, put the muzzle of the piece to his car, and shot
himl in the head again, which despatched him quite.
This was game, indeed, to nu, Lut it was no foe., and I was very
sorry to lose three charges of powder and shht upon a creature that
was good for nothing to us. HIowever, Xury said lie would have some
of him, Ro lie comes on board and ashl d i:e to ;ix e him the hatchet.
"For what, Xu:Euy ?" said I. Mc cut off his head,"' said he. Ilow-
ever, Xury could not cut off his head, but Ie cut off a foot and brought
it wit.l hiim, and it was a monstrous great one. I bcthought mny~elf,
however, that perhaps the skin of him might, one way or other, be of
some value to us, and I resolved to take off his skin, if I could. So
Xuriy and I went to work with lin,. ibt Xury was much the better
workman at it, for I knew very ill bow to do it. Indeed, it took us
both up the whole day; but at last we got off the hide of Lim, and
spreading it on the top cf our cabin, the sun effectually dried it in
two days' time, and it afterward served me to lie upon.
After this stop we made on to the southward continually, for ten or
twelve days, living very sparingly on our provi.-ions, which Legan to
abate very much, and going no oftenier in to the shore than we were
oliged to for fresh water. My design ia this was to make the river
Gambia, or Senegal; that is to say, any where about the Cape do
Verd, where I was in hopes to meet with some European ship ; and
if I did nwt, I knew not what course I had to take, but to seek for the
islands or perish among the Negroes. I knew that all the ships from
Europe, which sailed either to the coast of Guinea or to Brazil, or to
the East Indies, made this cape or those islands ; and, in a word, I
put the whole of my fortune upon this single point, either that I must
meet with some ship or must perish.
When I had pursued this resolution about ten days longer, as I
have said, I began to see that the land was inhabited; and in two or







4( ADVENTURES OF

three places, as we sailed by, we saw people stand upon the shore to
look at us; we could also perceive they were quite black, and stark
naked. I was once inclined to have gone on shore to them, but
Xury was my better counsellor, and said to me, No go, no go."
However, I hauled in nearer the shore, that I might talk to them,
and I found they ran along the shore by me a good way. I observed
they had no weapons in their hands, except one, who had a long,
slender stick, which Xury said was a lance, and that they would
throww them a great way with good aim ; so I kept at a distance, but
talked to them by signs, as well as I could, and particularly made
signs for something to cat. They beckoned to me to stop my boat,
and they would fetch Ime some meat. Upon this I lowered the top
of my sail and lay by, and two of them ran up into the country, and
in less than half an hour cnme back, and brought with them two
pieces of dry flesh and some corn, such as the produce of their coun-
try, but we neither knew what the one or the other was; however,
we were willing to accept it. But how to come at it was our next
dispute, for I was not for venturing on shore to them, and they were
as much afraid of us; but they took a safe way for us all, for they
brought it to the shore and laid it down, and went and stood a great
way off till we fetched it on board, and then came close to us again.
We made signs of thanks to them, for we had nothing to make them
amends; but an opportunity offered that very instant to oblige them
wonderfully; for while we were lying by the shore, came two mighty
creatures, one pursuing the other (as we took it) with great fury, from
the mountains toward the sea ; whether it was the male pursuing the
female, or whether they were in sport or in rage, we could not tell,
any more than we could tell whether it was usual or strange; but I
believe it was the latter, because, in the first place, those ravenous
creatures seldom appear but in the night, and in the second place, we
found the people terribly frightened, especially the women. The man
that had the lance, or dart, did not fly from them, but the rest did;
however, as the two creatures ran directly into the water, they did
not seem to offer to fall upon any of the Negroes, but plunged them-
selves into the sea, and swam about, as if they had come for their di-
version. At last, one of them began to come nearer our boat than I at
first expected ; but I lay ready for him, for I loaded my gun with all
possible expedition, and bade Xury load both the others. As soon as
he came fairly within my reach, I fired, and shot him directly in the
head; immediately he sunk down into the water, but rose instantly,
and plunged up and down, as if he was struggling for life, and so indeed







ROBINSON ORUSOE.


he was. He immediately made to the shore; but between the wound,
which was his mortal hurt, and the strangling of the water, lie died
just before he reached the shore.
It is impossible to express the astonishment of these poor creatures,
at the noise and fire of my gun: some of them were even ready to die
for fear, and fell down as dead with the very terror ; but when they
saw the creature dead, and sunk in the water, and that I made signs to
then to come to the shore, they took heart and came to the shore, and
began to search for the creature. I found him by his blood staining
the water; and by the help of a rope, which I slung round him and
gave the Negroes to haul, they dragged him on shore, and found that
it was a most curious leopard, Fpotted, and fine to an admirable de-
gree; and the Negroes held up their hands with admiration, to think
what it was I had killed him with.
The other creature, frightened with the flash of fire and the noise of
the gun, swam on shore, and ran up directly to the mountains from
whence they came ; nor could I, at that distance, know what it was.
I found quickly the Negroes were for eating the flesh of this creature,
so I was willing to have them take it as a favor from me ; which, when
I made signs to them that they might take him, they were very thank-
ful for. Immediately they fell to work -ith him; and though they
1i.-1 1.0 knife, yet with a sharpened piece of wood they took off his skin
.,. ,dily, and much more readily, than we could have done with a
I.;:. They offered me some of the flesh. which I declined, making as
ii 1 would give it them, but made signs for the skin, which they gave
rn. ry freely, and brought me a great deal more of their provisions,
SI'.. I,, though I did not understand,yet I accepted. I then made signs
1.. ll.:m for some water, and held out one of my jars to them, turning
It 1..rtom upward, to show that it was empty and that I wanted to
li., it filled. They called immediately to some of their friends, and
Ul. r'- came two women and brought a great vessel made of earth, and
I i~i 1, as I suppose. in the sun : this they set down to me, as before, and
I ..t. Xury on shore with my jars, and filled them all three. The wo-
I.... were as stark naked as the men.
I \ as now furnished with roots and corn, such as it was, and water;
a ilI leaving my friendly Negroes, I made forward for about eleven days
r...r. without offering to go near the shore, till I saw the land run out
a gr.: at length into the sea, at the distance of four or five leagues before
n.v and the sea being very calm, I kept a large offing, to make this
Tp.-irt. At length, doubling the point, at about two leagues from the
laI.i, I saw plainly land on the other side, to seaward; then I conclud-







48 ADVENT'RE OF

ed, as it was most certain indeed, that this was the Cape de Verd, and
those the isla;is c:illi'd from thence, Cape do erd Islands. However,
they were ;ot ia reat distance, and I could not well tell vwIlit I had he:-t
to do i for if 1 I.1huld be takcn with a g;le of wind, I might neither
reach one nor the other.
In this dillema, as I was very pensive, I stepped into the cabin and
sa"t mil down, Xury having the helh; -when on a sudden the i oy cried
out," L Maester imIter a ship with a sail !" and the foolish hoy was
frightened iot cf his -its, thinking it muit needs be some of his mals-
ter's hiipis &cnt to piirsue us, when I knew we were gotten far enough
out of thl'ir reach. I jumped out of the calin, and immediately saw,
not only the ship, i)ut wlhat she was, viz., that itwas a Portuguese ship,
and, as I tholuglt. was bound for the eoamt of (Guinea, for Negroes. But
iI hou I obIHservtI'd thlo core ,ie Lstored, I was soon convinced they woro
bound somlle either w :ia, aind did Inot (desi-n to come llanyV nearer to the
shorc ; NuNlla w'hi'h1 I ttret'ched out to sea a:s lnut11 as I could, resolving
to Peak wilh themi, ii'p ,:-1:ile.
With all he ail I c:1u1ld Imale. I found I hultd nolt 1'e ,ldle to come
in their way, .u t iht tl'ey would Ihe gone by lIcf lre I could make any
signal to them -; hut :fter I had crowded to the utmost, and began to
d:sp:air, tl''y, i seen'11, aw nie, 1y the help of their perspective oglsses,
and that it was omne Europ]ean 1,oat, which, thev supposed, ml:ust belong
to sro.ie hlilp t'!t -was lo-t; bO they shortened sail to let 1me come 1up.
I -was enllou:rag(id w ith this, a.d as I had Imy patroufs i:sign on Leard,
I malde a iwnft of it to them, for a sigm:l of distress, and fired a gun,
both whlilh thi:'y svi:- for they told me they saw the smoke, though
they dil 1,t hI'ar the -un. Upon these p;ul !s,they very kindly ,r(ouglht
to, and lay 1byi for in;e and in about three hours' tinle I came up with
thilIm.
'l'h-v asked me what I was, in Portuguese, anil ,ii Spanish, and in
FrIenh, lut I understI;ood none of them: lbut :t last, a Scotch sailor who
was on board called to me, and I answered hint, and told him I was an
rEgli:;h:nan, that I had made my escape out of slavery from the Moors
at Sallee. They then bade me come on board, and very kindly took (me
in, and all my goods.
It wis an inexlire'siile joy to me, "whleh any one will believe, that
I iwa th',u d!el'ivor, as I e'reom-id it, fro: n shel a n mierable ard :l-
i.nost 1;olw'hs I codidltl n a od T I wia in:l and 1 iandi'eily olTered all I
had to thll c:a '1in otf thle A!;p, as a return foir my deliverance ; but he
generously told 1me, lie would take nothing from nme, but that all I had
should be delivered safe to mo when I oame to the Brazils. For,"

















* 4,
iNN\


Crusoe on his Raft.







ROBINSON CRUSOL. 49

says he, I have saved your life on no other terms than I would be
glad to be saved myself; and it may, one time or other, be my lot to
be taken up in ihe same condition. Besides," said he, "when I carry
you to the Brazils, so great a way from your own country, if I should
take from you what you have, you will be starved there, and then I only
take away that life I had given. No, no, Senhor Ingles" (Mr. English-
man), says he." I will carry you thither in charity, and these things will
help to buy your subsistence there, and your passage home again"


^apt r 10 our.

He Settles in the Brazils as a Planter-Makes another Voyage, and i Ship-
wrecked.

S he was charitable in this proposal, so he was just in the
1f\ performance, to a tittle: for he ordered the seamen, that
none should offer to touch anything I had: then he took
i everything into his own possession, and gave me back an
exact inventory of them, that I might have them, even so much as
my three earthen jars.
As to my boat, it was a very good one; and that he saw, and told
me he would buy it of me for the ship's use; and asked me what I
would have for it ? I told him, he had been so generous to me is
everything, that I could not offer to make any price of the boat, brt
left it entirely to him : upon which, he told me he would give me a
note of hand to pay me eighty pieces of eight for it at Brazil; and
when it came there, if any one offered to give more, he would
make it up. IIe offered me also sixty pieces of eight more for my
boy Xury, which I was loath to take; not that I was not willing to
let the captain have him, but I was very loath to sell the poor boy's
Liberty, who had assisted me so faithfully in procuring my own.
IIowevrr, when I let him know my reason, he owned it to be just,
and offered me this medium, that he would give the boy an obliga-
tion to set him free in ten years, if he turned Christian ; upon this,
and Xnry saying he was willing to go with him, I let the captain
have him.
We had a very good voyage to the Brazils, and arrived in the Bay
de Trodos los Santos, or All Sainlt' Bay, in about twenty-two daye
after. And now I was once more delivered from the ;6ces miserable
of all conditions of life; and what to do next with myself, I was auw
to consider.







5U VSrrUTCRES OF

The tenerons treatment the captain gave me, I can never enough
remember: he would take nothing of me for my passage. gave me
twenty ducats for the leopard's skin, and forty for the lion's skin,
which I had in my boat, and caused everything I had in the ship to
be punctually delivered to me; and what I was willing to sell, he
bought of me; such as the case of bottles, two of my guns, and a
piece of the lump of beeswax-for I had .made candles of the rest;
n a word, I made about two hundred and twenty pieces of eight of
all my cargo ; and with this stock, I went on shore in the Brazils.
I had not been long here, before I was recommended to the house
of a good honest man, like himself, who had an ingenio as they call
it (that is, a plantation and a sugar-house). I lived with him some
time, and acquainted myself, by that means, with the manner of
planting and of making sugar; and seeing how well the planters
lived, and how they got rich suddenly, I resolved, if I could get a
license to settle there, I would turn planter among them; endeavor-
ing in the meantime, to find out some way to get my money, which I
had left in London, remitted to me. To this purpose, getting a kind
of letter of naturalization, I purchased as much land that was un-
cured as my money would reach, and formed a plan for my planta-
tion and settlement; such a one as might be suitable to the stock
which I proposed to myself to receive from EIEnglid.
I had a neighbor, a Portuguese of Lisbon, but born of English
parents, whose name was Wells, and in much such circumstances as
I was. I call him my neighbor, because his plantation lay next to
mine, and we went on very sociably together. My stock was but
low, as well as his; and we rather planted for food than anything
else, for about two years. However, we began to increase, and our
land began to come in order; so that the third year we planted some
tobacco, and made each of us a large piece of ground ready for
planting canes in the year to come ; but we both wanted help; and
now I found more than before, I had done wrong in parting with my
boy Xury.
But, alas! for me to do wrong, that never did right, was no great
wonder. I had no remedy, but to go on ; I had got into an employ
ment quite remote to my genius, and directly contrary to the life I
d-lighted in, and for which I forsook my father's house, and broke
through all : Is good advice. Nay, I was coming into the very mid
oae station, upper degree of low life, which my father advised me
so tbore; and which, if I resolved to go on with, I might as well
have stayed at home, and never have fatigued myself in the world, as







ROBINSON CRUITOE.


I had done; and I often used to say to myself, I could harv done this
as well in England, among my friends, as to have gone five thousand
miles off to do it among strangers and savages. if a wilderness, and a
uch a distance as never to hear from any part of the world that had
the least knowledge of me.
In this manner I used to look upon my condition with the utmost
regret. I had nobody to converse with, but now and then this neigh-
hor; no work to be done, but by the labor of my hands; and I used
to say, I lived just like a man cast away upon sonim desolate island,
that had nobody there but l'inself. But how just has it beeLi! and
how should all men reflect, that when they compare their present
conditions with others that are worse, Heaven may oblige tlem to
make the exchange, and be convinced of their former felicity by their
experience. I say, how just has it been, that the truly solitary life
I reflected on, in an island of mere desolation, should be my lot, who
had so often unjustly compared it with the life which I then led. in
which, had I continued, I had, in all probability, been exceedingly
prosperous and rich!
I was, in some degree, settled in my measures for carrying on the
plantation, before my kind friend, the captain of the ship that took
me up at sea, went back ; for the ship remained there, in providing
his lading, and preparing for his voyage, near three months; when
telling him what little stock I had left behind me in London, lie gave
me this friendly and sincere advice: Senhor Ingles," says he (for
so he always called me), "if you will give me letters, and a procura-
tion here in form to me, with orders to the person who has your
money in London, to send your effects to Lisbon, to such persons as
I shall direct, and in such goods as are proper for this country, I
will bring you the produce of them, God willing, at my return; but
since human affairs are all subject to changes and disasters I would
have you give orders but for one hundred pounds sterling, which you
say is half your stock, and let the hazard be run for the fir', so that
if it come safe, you may order the rest the same way; and, if it mis-
carry, you may have the other half to have recourse to for your sup.
ply." This was so wholesome advice, and looked so friendly, that
I could not but be convinced that it was the best course I could tak-s;
. so I accordingly prepared letters to the gentlewoman with whom I
left my money, and a procuration to the Portuguese captain, as he
desired me.
I wrote the English cnptain's widow a full account of all my ad.
ventures; my slavery escape, and how I had met with thb Portu







62 ADVENTURES OF

guewe captain at sea, the humanity of his behavior, and wxi.ac -ondi
tion I was now in, with ill other necessary directions for my supply,
and whenn this iIhonet captain came to Lisbon, lie found means, I,
sonlme f tihe English merchants there, to send over, not the orlde
o l, but a full account of my story to a merchant at London, who
represented it effectually to her ; whereupon silo not only delivered
the money, but out of her own pocket. sent the Portuguese captain a
very handsome present for his humanity and charity to mie.
The merchant ill London vesting this hundred pounds in English
goods, such as the epqtain had wrote for, sent them directly to hlim at
Lisiol', mland le brol uhllt tlheml all safely to imn at the lramils; among
lwhichl. without my direction (for I was too 'young ill my bliiness to
think of thliem) hle had taken care to hlive a ll sorts of tools, iron
work. and utensils necessary for my plantation, and which were of
great use to me. WVhin this cargo arrived 1 thought moy fortune was
mnude, for I was surprised with joy of it ; andl mly go d steward,. the
captain, lhid laid out the five pounds which try friendly had sent him
as a present for himself, to purelhi.se and blring me over a servant,
lnder lhond for six years' service, and would x not acw,'r t of :lny eon-
sildration l('xcet a little toIli;lco. which I would have i' n nicept,
b).ing of my own produce. Neither was this all ; Ibut my goods lheing
lil Ernglisll nianulractres. such :is cloths, stunfls, ain'e, and things pllr-
ticutlarly valuable and desirable ill the counitr, I founiid mllans to sell
them to a very great advantage ; so that I might say I Ihad mlrer than
four times the value of my first cargo, and was now infinitely 1hyolnd
iny poor neighltor, I mean in the iadvancelmelnt of my 1plantaition ; for
the first thing I did I bought m1e a negrol sl've and a lEuroopean ser-
vant also ; I mean another besides that which the captain brought tme
from Lisbon.
liut as abused prosperity is oftentimes made tlhe very means of our
adversity, so was it with me. I went on thlie next year with great
success in my plantation ; I raised fifty great rolls of tobacco eln lilmy
own ground, more than I had disposed of for necessa'ri'es among
my neighbors, and these fifty rolls, being each of above one hum-
dred pounds weight, were well cured, and laid by against the return
of the fleet from Lisbon : and now, increasing in business and inll
wealth, my head began to lie full of projects and undertakings lie.
yond my reach, such as are, indeed, often the ruin of the liet heals iu
business. Had I continued in the station I was now in. I had room
for all the happy things to have yet befallen me, for which my father
so earnestly recommended a quiet5 retired life, and which he had so







ROBINSON CRUBOB. 00

rensilly described the middle station of life to be full of; hut other
things attended me, and I was still to be the wilful agent of all my
own miseries ; and. particularly, to increase my fault, and double the
reflections upon myself, which in my future sorrows I should have
lieeure to make, all these miscei rages were procured by my apparent
obstinate adhering to my foolish inclination, of wandering about, and
pursuing that inclination in contrtadictior t'. the clearest views of
doing myself good in a fair and plain pursuit of these projects, and
tho.c measures of life, which nature and Providence concurred to pro
sent me with, and to in:kc my duty.
As I had once done -hris in breaking away from my parents, so I
could not lie content now. but I must go and leave the happy view I
had of being a rich and ti.riving man in my new plantation, only to
pursue a rash and inmmoderate desire of rising faster than the nature
of the thing admitted ; and thus I cast myself down again into the
deepest gulf of human misery rhat ever man fell into, or perhaps
could be consistent with life, ani a state c health in tie world.
To come then, by just degrees to the particulars of this part of my
story. You may suppose, that having now lived almost four years in
the Brazils, and beginning to thrive and prosper very well iipon my
plantation, I had not only learned the language, but Lad contracted an
acquaintance and friendship among my ieliow-planters, as well as
among the merchants of Si Salvador, which wa as our port; and that,
in my discourses among tL ':, I had frequently given them an account
of my two voyages to tl coast of Guinet the ma nner of trading with
the negroes there, and : ow easy it was to purchase on the coast for
trifles-such as beads, toys, knives, scissors, hatchets, bits of glass,
and the like-not only gold-dust. Guinea grains, elephants' teeth, &c.,
but negroes, for the service of the Brazils, in great numbers.
They listened always very attentively to my discourses on these
liad", but especially t(, that part which related to the buying negroes,
whit.ih was a trade at that time not only not fir entered into, but, as
fr asi it, was. iad been carried on by the assientos, or permiission of
the kings of Spain and Portugal, and engrossed from the public; sc
that ft'w negroes were bought, ati d those excessively dear.
It happcied, bein g in company i ith some incrhants and planters'
of my acquaintance, and talking of those things v.-y earnestly, three
of them canme to me the next morning, and told me they had been
singsig very much upon what I had discoursed w ith tnent of the last
r.:; t and they came to make a secret proposal t.: me; and, after
rj:n.r.g me to secrecy. they told me that they had a mind to ft out







54 ADVEN~RRES OF

a ship to go to Guinca; that they had all plantations as well as I, and
were straitened for nothing so much as servants; that it was a trade
that could not be carried on, because they could not publicly sell the
negroos w hen they caine home, so they desired to make but one
voyage, to bring the negroes on shore privately, and divide them
among their own plantations; and, in a word, the question was
whether I would go their supercargo in the ship, to manage the trad-
ing part upon the coast of Guinea; and they offered me that I should
have an equal share of the negroes, without providing any part of the
stock.
This was a fair proposal, it must be confessed, had it been made to
any one that had not a settlement and plantation of his own to look
after, which was in a fair way of coming to be very considerable, and
with a good stock upon it. But i.. me, that was thus entered and
established, and had nothing to do but go on as I begun for three or
four years more, and to have sent for the other hundred pounds from
Engh.nd; and w ho, in that time and with that little addition, could
cnarce have failed of being worth three or four thousand pounds
sterling, and that increasing too; for me to think of such a voy ige
:as the most preposterous thing that ever man, in such circumstan
tes. could be guilty of.
But I, that was born to be my own destroyer, could no more resist
the offer, than I could restrain my first rambling designs, when my
father's good counsel was lost upon me. In a word, 1 told them I
would go with all my heart, if they would undertake to look after my
plantation in my absence, and would dispose of it to such as I should
direct if I miscarried. This they all engaged to do, and entered
into writings or covenants to do so; and I made a formal will, dis-
posing of my plantations and effects in case of my death ; making the
captain of the ship that saved my life, as before, my universal heir,
but obliging him to dispose oi my effects as I had directed in my
will ; one half of the produce being to himself, and the other to be ship-
ped to England. In short, I took all possible caution topreserve my
effects and to keep up my plantation; had I used half as much plru
deuce to have looked into my own interest, and have made a jaili
mn-it of what I ought to have done, and not to have done, I had cer.
tinily never gone away from so prosperous an undertaking, leaving
all the i)robalec views o, a thriving circumstance, and gone a voyage
to sea, attended with all its counmon hazards, to say nothing of Ih.
reasons I had to expect particular misfortunes to myself.
But I was hurried on, and obeyed blindly the dictates of my fan.yi






ROBINSON CRUSOE.


rather than my reason; and, accordingly, the ship being fitted out,
and the cargo furnished, and all things done as by agreement by my
partners in the voyage, I w"nt on board in an evil hour again, the
first of September, 1659, being the same day eight years that I went
from my parents at Hull, in order to act the rebel to their authority
and the fool to my own interest.
Our ship was about one hundred and twenit ions burden, carried
six guns and fourteen men, besides the master, his boy and myself; we
had on board no large cargo of goods except of such toys as were fit
for our trade with the negroes. such as beads, bits of glass, shells, and
odd trifles, especially looking-glasses, knives, scissors, hatchets, and the
like.
The very same day I went on board we set sail, standing away to
the northward upon our on n coast, with design to stretch over for
the African coast. When they came about ten or twelve degrees of
northern latitude, which, it seems, was the manner of their course in
those days, we had very good weather, only excessively hot all the
way upon our own coast, till we came to the height of Cape St. Au-
gustino: !ro'u> whence, keeping farther off at sea, we lost sight of
land, and -te,'red at! if we were bound for the isle Fernando de Nor-
S ontIha, hol].ng our n va-t N. E. by N., and leaving those isles on the
east. In this course we pa-srd the Line in about twelve days' time,
and were, by our last observation, in seven degrees twenty-two min-
utes northern latitude, when, a violent tornado, or hurricane, took us
quite out of our knowledge: beg..n from the southeast. came about
to the northwest, and then settled i I the northeast; from whence it
blew in such a terrible manner, that for twelve days together we
could do nothing but drive, and, scudding away before it, let it carry
us v l.itlcersoever late and the fury of the winds directed; and during
these twelve days, I need not say that I expected every day to be
swallowed up, nor, indeed, did any in the ship expect to save their lives.
In this distress we had, besides the terror of the storm, cre of our
men died of the caleuture, and one man and a boy washed overboard.
About the twelfth day, the weather abating a little, the master made
an observation as well as he could, and found that he was in about
eleven degrees north latitude, but that he was twenty-two degrees of
longitude difference west from Cape St. Augustino ; so that he found
:i was got upon the coast of Guiana, or the north part of Brazil, be-
y 'nd the river Amazon, toward that of the river Oronoco, commonly
called the Great River; and began to consult with me what course he
s3h.uld take, for thu ship was leaky and very much disabled, and he
was f, r ing directly back to the coast of Brazil







6o ADVENT RES O0

I was positively against that, and looking over the charts of the
ecacoasts of America witl him. we concluded there was no ililabited
country' tor us to have recourse to, till w meca \ithi iln thle Iir-'l o!
the Carribce islands, and therefore resolved to stand away for liar:!a-
does; which, by keeping off to sea, to avoid tile indraft of the biay n
gulf of Mexico, we might easily perform, as we hoped, in about lil teen
days' sail, whereas we could not possibly make our voyage to tile
coast of Africa without some assistance, both to our ship and our
selves.
With this design, we changed our course, and steered away N. W.
by W. in order to reach some of our English islands, where 1 hoped lor
relief: but our voy~go was otherwise determined ; for being in tle
latitude of twelve degrees, eighteen minutes, a second storm came
upon us, which carried us away with the same impetuosity westward,
and drove us so out of the very way of all human commerce, that
had all our lives been saved, as to the sea, we were rather in danglc
of being devoured by savages than ever returning to our own coun-
try.
In this distress, the wind still blowing very hard, one of wor men,
early in the morning, cried out, Land !" and we had no ',.ncr run
out of the cabin to look out, in hopes of seeing whereaho~,ts in the
world we were, than the ship struck upon a sand, and in a mnimcl.t
her motion being so stopped, the sea broke over her in such a na:u
ner, that we expected we should all have perished immediately; and
we were immediately driven into our close quarters, to shelter us from
the very foam and spray of the sea.
It is not easy for any one who has not been in the like condition to
describe or conceive the consternation of men in such circumstances
we knew nothing where we were, or upon what land it was we were
driven, whether an island or the main. whether inhabited or not in
habited ; and as the rage of the wind was still great, though rather
less than at first, we could not so much as hope to have the ship hold
many minutes without breaking in pieces, unless the wind, by a kind
of miracle, should immediately turn about. In a word, we sat look.
ing upon one another, and expecting death every moment, and every
n.an acting accordingly, as preparing for another world: for there
was little or nothing more for us to do in this : that which was our
present comfort, and all the comfort we had, was, that, contrary to
our expectation, the ship did not break yet, and that the master said
the wind began to abate.
Now, though we thought that the win did a little abate, yet the







BRO-ITSON CRCSO.


ship hiaivg iit, strr'l u.,zn the sand, and sticking too fast for us to
expect her getL:,jg off, v'( were in a dreadful condition indeed, and
had nothing to d '..:t to tc iink of saving our lives as well as we could
We had a boat e.t c'lr st8rn just before the storm, but she was first
staved by dashing agai,.st the ship's rudder, and, in the next place,
she broke away, anJ othi!r sunk, or was driven off to sea; so there
vas n,) hope from her. WeVo had another boat on board, but how to
gO. lhr off into the sea v.as a doubtful th'r ; however, there was no
room to debate, for we fancied the ship w-ea-.. break in pieces every
ninute and some told us she was ,-.tually broken already.
In bhis distress, the mate of our vessel laid hold of the boat, and
with th., hol; of the rest of the men, they got her flung over the ship's
"ide: nid getting all into her, we let her go, and committed our.
el ves, being even in number, to God's mercy, and the wild sea; for
t'lig.i 'he storm was abated considerably, yet the sea went dread-
flvy i;idgh upon the shore, and might well be called den wild zee, as
the Dutch call the sea in a storm.
And now our case was very dismal, indeed ; for we all saw plainly
that the sea went so high, that the boat could not live, and that we
should be inevitably drowned. As to making sail, we had none; nor,
if we had, could we have done anything with it; so we worked at the
oar toward the land, though with heavy hearts, like men going to
execution : for we all knew that when the boat caine nearer to the
shore, she would le dashed in a thousand pieces by the breach of the
sea. IIowver, we committed our souls to God in the most earnest
manner; and the wind driving us toward the shore, we hastened our
destruction : th our ;owv hands, pulling as well as we could toward
land.
lWh't tif,, sbre was-whether rock or sand, whether steep or
sa )al we knew '.,t : the only hope that could rationally give us the
least shadc t of expectationa was, if we might happen into some bay
r gi lf, or the mouth of some river, where by great chance we might
rL.'e run our boat in, ,r g(t under the lee of the land, and perhaps
lmasde smooth water. But nothing of this appeared : and as we made
iLarr anld nearer the shore, the land looked more frightful than the sea.
A.iter we had rowed, or rather driven, about a league and a half, as
we reckoned it, a raging wave, niiintain-like, came rolling astern of
us. and plainly bade us expect the coup 'e grace. In a word, it took
us with such fury. that it overset the boat at once : and separating us,
as well from the boat as from one another, gave us not time hardly to
say, 0 Guid fr Wz were all swallow'' up in a moment.
3*







ADVE'NTLES OF


Nothing can describe the confusion of thought wli" h If et, when I
s1t.k into the water ; fbr though I swam very well, yet I c'.ulid i.t do
ii., ;inmwelf 'rn o the waves so as to draw my breath, till that wave
h.Lviig drivenoi me, or rather carried mie a vast way on toward the
-liore. tll", having spent itself, went back. and i?(' me upon the land
ilnist dry. b:it half dead with the water [ took io. I had so much
.resec.ie of mind, as well as breath left, that seeing myselfnearer thll
muiin land than I expected, I got upon my feet, and euder.v"-'.l to
make ao toward the land as fast as I could, before another wIve
h.liild return ind takc n:e up again; but I soon found it was iintp'r.
siibl to avoid it, for I saw the sea come after me as high s .- grnat
bill. and as furious as an enemy which I had no means cr strijngzh .to
contend wNkit l my business was to hold my breath, anid r.lasc tiys'li
upon the water, if I could, and so, by swimminiig, to preserve ity
brcatthiin, and pilot myself toward the shore, if possible- mty grr.'.
ct cocilern now Ibcing that the wave, as it would carry nme : grc.."
way toward the shore when it came on, might not carry me ba'-i
'Lgain with it whlni it gave back toward the sea.
The wave th.it came ;uoa ime aglin buried me at once twenty or
btiity ftet deep in its owv; body; and I could fdcl myself carried with
nmigity force anld siwiftness toward the shore, a very great way ; but
I hold iImy i. oath, and assisted myself to swim still forward with all
mty might. I was ready to burst with holding my breath, wlhe, as I
felt myself rising up, so, to my immediate relief. I found my head and
h:all, hloot out above the eur[tace of the water; and though it was not
two seconds of tim that 1 could keep myself so, yet it relieved me
great] -_aC e ] breath and new courage. I was covered agaii. with
wator a good while, lut not so long but I held it out: and finding the
water had spent itself, and began to return, I struck forward igab ;
the return of the waves, and felt ground again with my feet. 1 -rt 'a
'rill a few ilmoments to recover reath, and till the water wi:nt froim
me, and then took to my heels, and ran with what strength I .ad
farther toward the shore. But neither would this deliver me fr )n
hIe flury of the sea, which came pouring in after nm again, and twi~te
:no re I was lifted up by the waves and carried forward as before, ttic
'h. re being very flat.
The la:.t time of these two had well nigh been fatal to me, for the
lea Ihaving hurried, me along as helbfre, lauded me, or rather dashed
in; against a piece of a rock, and that with such force that it 1 rft me
eacnl.ss, and indeed helpless, as to my own deliverance, for the blow
taking my side and breast, beat the breath, as it were, quite out of mY






ROBINSON CRUSOE. OU

body, and had it returned again immediately, I must have been stran-
gled in the water; but I recovered a little before the return of the
waves, and seeing I should again be covered with the water, I re-
solved to hold fast by a piece of the rock, and so to hold my breath,
if possible, till the wave went back. Now, as the waves were not so
high as the first, being nearer land, 1 held my hold till the wave aba-
ted and then fetched another run, which brought me so near the
shore that the next wave, though it went over me, yet did not so swal-
low me up as to carry me away, and the next run I took I got to the
main land, where, to my great comfort, I clambered up the cliffs of
the shore and sat me down upon the grass, free from danger, and quite
out of the reach of the water.
I was now landed, and safe on shore, and began to look up and
thank God that my life was saved, in a case wherein there was, some
minutes before, scarcely any room to hope. I believe it is impossible
to express, to the life, what the ecstasies and transports of the soul
are, when it is so saved, as I may say, out of the grave; and I did
not now wonder at the custom, viz., that when a malefactor, who has
the halter about his neck, is tied up, and just going to be turned off,
and has a reprieve brought to him, I say I do not wonder that they
bring a surgeon with it, to let him blood that very moment they tell
him of it, that the surprise may not drive the animal spirits from the
heart and overwhelm him.
For sudden joys, like griefs, confound bt first."
I walked about on the shore, lifting up my hands, and my whole
being, as I may say, wrapped up in the contemplation of my deliver-
ance, making a thousand gestures and motions which I cannot de-
scribe; reflecting upon my comrades that were drowned, and that
there should not be one soul saved but myself-for, as for them, I
never saw them afterward, or any sign uf them, except three of their
hats, one cap, and two shoes that were not fellows.
I cast my eyes to the stranded vessel, when the breach and froth
o'the sea being so big I could hardly see it, it lay so far off and con
si.iered-Lord! how was it possible I could get on shore?
After I had solaced my mind with the comfortable part of my con-
dition, I began to look around me to see what kind of a place I was
in, and what was next to be done, and I soon found my comforts
abate, and that, in a word, I had a dreadful deliverance; for I was
wet, had no clothes to shift me, nor anything either to eat or drink
to comfort me; neither did I see any prospect before me but that of






0 AuVENTURtES OF

perishing with hunger or being devoured by wild beasts; and that
which was particularly afflicting to me was, that I had no weapon
either to hunt and kill any creature for my sustenance, or to defend
myself against any other creature that might desire to kill me for
theirs. In a word, I had nothing about me but a knife, a tobacco
pipe, and a little tobacco in a box. This was all my provision; and
tis threw me into such terrible agonies of mind, that, for a while, I
ran about like a madman. Night coming upon me, 1 began, with a
heavy heart, to consider what would be my lot if there were any -aven
ous beasts in that country, seeing at night they always come abroad
for their prey.
All the remedy that offered to my thoughts, at that time, was to get
up into a thick, bushy tree, like a fir, but thorny, which grew near
me, and where I resolved to sit all night, and consider the next day
what death I should die, for as yet I saw no prospect of life. 1
walKed about a furlong from the shore to see if I could find any fresh
water to drink, which I did to my great joy; and having drank, and
put a little tobacco into my mouth to prevent hunger. I went to the
tree, and getting up into it, endlcavored to place myself so that if I
should fall asleep I might not fall, and having cut me a short stick,
like a truncheon, for my defence. I took up my lodging; and, having
been excessively fatigued, I fell fast asleep, and slept as comfortably
as I believe few could have done in my condition, and found myself
the most refreshed with it that I think I ever was on such an occa
sion.



^aptzr tibt.

Bobinson finds himself in a Desolate Island-Procures a Stock of Articles from the
Wreck Constructs hs Habitation.

IIHEN I waked it was broad day, the weather clear, an.l
the sto rm abated, so that the sea did not rage am' swell n~
1 before; hut that which surprised me most was, thl:t the
.---'/ ship was lifted off in the night from the sand where -lhe
lay. by the swelling of the tide, and was driven almost as far as tle
rock which I at first mentioned, where I had been so bruised ly the
wave dashing me against it. This being within about a mile from
the shore where I was, and the ship seeming to stand upright till. l
wished myself on board, that at least I might save some ntes!aary
things for my use.







RCBINSON C.USOL. 6

When I came down from my apartment in the tree I looked about
me again, and the first thing I found was the boat, which lay, as the
wind and sea had tossed her up upon the land, about two miles on my
right hand. I walked as far as I could upon the shore to have got to
her, but found a neck or inlet of water between me and the boat, which
was about half a mile broad, so I came back for the present, being
more intent upon getting at the ship, where I hoped to find something
for my present subsistence.
A little after noon I found the sea very calm. and the tide obbod so
far out, that I could come within a quarter of a mile of the ship; and
here I found a fresh renewing of my grief, for I saw, evidently, that
if we had kept on board we had been all safe; that is to say, we had
all got safe on shore, and I had not been so mlseranle as to be left
entirely destitute of all comfort and company, as I now was. This
forced tears from my eyes again, but as there was little relief in this,
I resolved, if possible, to got to the ship ; so I pulled of my clothes,
for the weather was hot to extremity, and took the water; but when
I came to the ship, my difficulty was still greater to know how to get
on board, for as she lay aground, and high out of the water, there was
nothing within my reach to lay hold of. I swam round her twice,
and the second time I spied a small piece of rope, which I wondered
I did not see at first, hang down by the forechains, so low as that with
great difficulty I got hold of it, and by the help of that rope got into
the forecastle of the ship. Here I found the ship was bulged, and had
a great deal cf water in her hold, but that she lay so on the side of a
bank of hard sand, or rather earth, that her stern lay lifted up upon
the bank, and her head low, almost to the water; by this means all
her quarter was free, and all that was in that part was dry ; for, you
may be sure, my first work was to search, and to see what was spoiled
and what was free; and fir.t, I found that all the 'hip's provisions
were dry and untouched by the water, and being very well disposed
to eat, I went to the bread-room and filled my pockets with biscuit,
and ate it as I went s.iout other things, for I had no time to lose. I
also found some rum in tL1, great cabin. of which I took a large dram,
and which I had indeed need enough of, to spirit me for what was be
fore me. Now I wanted nothing but a boat to furnish myself with
many things which I foresaw would be very necessary to me.
It was in vain to sit still and wish for what was not to be had, and
this extremity roused my application; we had several spare yards,
and two or three large spars of wood, and a spare topmast or two in
the ship; 1 resolved to fall to work with these, and flung as many







A.dVirtT.SESt OP


overboard as I could manage for their weight, tying every one with a
rope, th-tt they might not drive away. When this was done, I went
down to the ship's side, and pulling them to me, I tied four of them
fast together at both ends, as well as I could, in the form of a raft,
and '.) ing two or three short pieces of plank upon them, crosswise, I
found I could ildk upon it very well but that it was not able to bear
any great weig'tE, the pieces being t)o light; so I went to work, and
with the .'arpntcr's saw I cut a spare topmast into three lengths,
and added them to my raft, with a great deal >f labor and pains. Bt
the hope ol 1 urnishing myself with necessaries encouraged me to gt
beyond what I should have been able to do on another occasion.
My raft was now strong enough to bear any reasonable weight.
Mly next care was what to load it with. and "\ow to preserve what I
laid upon it from the surf of the sea; Lut i was not long considering
this. I first laid all the planks or boards upon it that I could get,
and having considered well what I most wanted, I got three of the
seamen's chests, which I hal broken open and emptied, and lowered
them down upon my raft; these I filled with provisions, viz.: bread,
rice, three Dutch cheeses, five pieces of dried goat's flesh (which we
lived much upon), and a little remainder of European corn, which
had been laid by for some fowls which we had brought to sea with
us, but the fowls were killed. There had been some barley and
heat together, but, to my great disappointment, I found afterward
that the rats had eaten or spoiled it all. As for liquors, I found sev-
eral cases of bottles belonging to our skipper. in which were some
cordial waters; and, in all, about five or six gallons of rack. These
a stowed by themselves, thti being n) need to put them into the
chests, nor any room for them. While I was doing this, I found the
tide began to flow, though very calm; and I had the mortification to
see my cu~t, shirt. and waistcoat, which I had left on shore, upon the
sand, swim .l., y; as for my breeches, which were only linen, and
cpen-kneed, I swamn on board in them and my stockings. However,
this put me upon rummaging for clothes, of which I found enough,
but took no more than I wanted for present use, for I had other things
which my eye was more upon: as, first, tools to work with on slioro:
and it was after long searching that I found the carpenter's chest,
which was indeed a very useful prize to me, and much more valuable
than a ship-lading of gold would have been at that time. I got it
down to my raft, even whole as it was, without losing time to look
into it, for I knew, in general, what it contained.
My next care was for some ammunition and arms. There were twi







ROBINSON CRUSOE. OD

very gPod fowling-pieces In the great cabin, and two pistols; these I
sez,:ret first, with some pow der-horns and a small bag of shot, and
two o!l rusty swords. I knew there were three barrels of powder in
the ship, but knew not where our gunner had stowed them; but with
rL:ch search I found them. two of them dry and good, the third had
t.,kn water. Those two I got to my raft, with the arms. And now
I thought myself pretty well freighted, and began to think how 1
should get to shore with them, having neither sail, oar, nor rudder;
and the least capful of wind would have over[et all my navigation.
I had three encouragements: 1st, A smooth calm sea; 2dly, The
tide rising and setting in to the shore; 3dly, What little wind there
was blew me toward the land. And thus, having found two or three
broken oars belonging to the boat, and besides the tools which were
in the chest, I found two saws, an axe, and a hammer; and with this
cargo I put to sea. For a mile, or thereabouts. mn raft went very
well, only that I found it drive a little distant from the place where
I had landed before; by which I perceived that there was some in-
draft of the water, and consequently I hoped to find some creek or
river there, which I might make use of as a port to get to land with
my cargo.
As I imagined so it was; there appeared before me a little opening
of the land, and I found a strong current of the tide set into it; so I
guided my raft, as well as I could, to get into the middle of the stream.
But here I had like to have suffered a second shipwreck, which, if I
had, I think it verily would have broken my heart: for, knowing
nothing of the coast, my raft ran aground at one end of it upon a
shoal, and not being aground at the other end, it wanted but a little
that all my cargo had slipped off toward that end that was afloat,
and so fallen into the water. I did my utmost by setting my back
against the chests, to keep them in their places, but could not thrust
off tie raft with all my strength; neither durst I stir from the pos-
ture I was in, but holding up the chests with all my might, I stood in
that manner near half an hour, in wlich time the rising of the water
Iroiught me a little more upon a level; and a little after, the water
Etill -ising, my raft floated again, and I thrust her off, with the oar I
had, into the channel, and then driving up higher, I at length found
myself in the mouth of a little river, with land on both sides, and a
strong current or tide running up. I looked on both sides for a proper
place to get to shore, for I was not willing to be driven too high up
the river; hoping, in time, to see some ship at sea, and therefore rs
solved to place myself at near the coast as I could







04 ADYENTUIES OF

At length I spied a little cove on the right shore of the creek, tt
which, with great pain and difficulty, I guided my raft, -aid at last
got so near, as that reaching ground with nip oar, I could thrust hec
directly in : but here I had like to have dipped all my cargo into the
sea again: for that shore lying pretty steep, that is to say, sloping,
there was no place to land but where one end of my float, if it ran on
shore, would lie -o high, and the other sink lower, as before, that it
would endanger my cargo again. All that I could do was to wait till
the tide was at the highest, keeping the raft with my oar like an an.
chor to hold the side of it fast to the shore, near a flat piece of ground
which I expected the water would flow over; and so it did. As soon
as I found water enough, for my raft drew about a foot of water, I
thrust her upon that flat piece of ground, and there fastened or moored
her, by I':ing my two broken oars into the ground, one on one side,
near ., t. and on:e Ont the other side, near the other end: and thus
I lay till the waate- o:,bcd away, and left my raft and all my cargo
safe c:;. shore.
My next work was to view the country, and seek a proper place for
my habitation, and where to stow my goods, to secure them from
whatever might happen. Where I was I yet knew not-whether on
the continent, Ir on an island-whether inhabited, or not inhabited-
whether in danger of wild beasts, -r not. There was a hill, not above
a mile from me, which rose up very steep and high, and which seemed
to overtop some other hills, which lay as in a ridge from it, nor th.
ward. I took )ut one of the fowling-pieces and one of the pistols,
and a horn of powder, and, thus armed, I travelled for discovery up to
the top of that hill: where, after I ilid, with great labor and difficulty,
gut up to the top, I :aw my fate, to my great affliction, viz.: that I
was on an island, environed every way with the sea. no land to be
seen, except somne roctl', which la a great way off, and two small is-
lands, less than this, whrlih l1a3 alout three leagues to the west.
I found also that the island I was in was barren, and, as I saw good
reason to believe, uninhabited, except by wild beasts, of whom, how-
ever, I saw none; yet I saw abundance of fowls, but knew not their
ki;n's; neither, when I killed them, could I tell what was fit for food,
and what not. At my coming back, I shot at a great bird, which I
saw sitting upon a tree, on the side of a great wood. I believe it waa
the first gun that had been fired there since the creation of the world.
I had no sooner fired, but from all parts of the wood there arose on
innumerable number of fowls, of many sorts, making a confused
screaming, and crying, every one according to his usual note but n







ROBINSON CRUSOE.


one of them of any kind that I know. As for the creature I killed, I
took it to be a kind of a hawk, its color and beak resembling it, but it
had no talons or claws more than common. Its flosh was carrion. and
fit for nothing.
Contented with this discovery, I came.back to my raft, and fell to
work to bring my cargo on shore. which took me ull thel rest of the
day ; what to do with myself at night 1 knew not, nor indeed where to
rest, for I was afraid to lie down on the ground, not knowing but some
wild beast might devour me- though. as I afterwvsr. found, there
was really no need for those fear... Ilowe.er, a u well as I could, I
barricaded myself round with cl.st.. and boards that 1 had brought
on shore, and made a kind of hut fr that night's lodging. As for
food, I yet saw not which way to supply myself, except that I had
seen two or three creatures, like hares, run out of the wood .here I
shot the fowl.
I now began to consider that I might yet get a great many things
out of the ship which would be useful to me, and particularly soeno
of the rigging and sails, and such other things as might come to land
and I resolved to make another voyage on board the vessel, if possi
ble. And as I knew that the first storm that blew must necessarily
break her all in pieces, I resolved to set all other things apart, till I
got everything out of the ship that I could get. Then I called a
council, that is to say, in my thoughts, whether I should take back
the ratt, but this appeared inpracticable, so I resolved to go as be-
fore, when the tide was down ; and I did so, only that I stripped be
fore I went into my but, having nothing on but a chequered shirt, a
pair of linen drawers, and a pair of pomps on my feet.
I got on board the ship as before, a d nrc;arcd a second raft; and
having had experience of the first, I rcither inade this ao unwieldy,
nor loaded it so hard, but yet ] brought away several things very use.
:.1 to me-as, first, in the carl enter's stores, I f.unil two or three bags
if :'-ils and spikes, a great screw-jck. a dozen or two of hatchets,
i'd. ao've all, that most useful thing called a grinis'tone. All these
i sec,:r.J :ogcther with several things belonging to the gunner, par.
i;cul:riy two or three iron cows, and two barrel; of musket bullets,
trverl mi.skets, and another fowling-, iece, \ ith some small quantity of
r-Iwder more, a large bag full of small shot, and a great roll ofsheet-
le- !-'it this last was so heavy, I could not hoist it up to get it over
the shin's side. Besides these things, I took all the men's clothes that
I c''u'd ftud. and a spare fore-topsail, a hammock, and some beilding,
and with this I loaded my second raft, and brought them all safe jo
shore, to my very great comfort.







ADUENTVRES OF


I was under some apprehensions lest, during my absence from the
land, my provisions might be devoured on shore; but when I came
back, I found no sign of any visitor, only there sat a creature like a
wild cat upon one of the c-ests, which, when I came toward it, ran
away a little distance, and then tood still. She sat very composed
and unconcerned, and looked fall in my face, as if she had a mind to
be acquainted with me. I presented my gun to her, but, as she did
not understand it, she was perfectly unconcerned at it, nor did she
offer to stu iway, upon which I tossed her a bit ofbiscuit, though, by
the way, .1. was not very free of it, for my store was not great; how
ever, I spared her a bit, I say, and she went to it, smelled of it, and
ate it, and looked (as pleased) f(r more; but I thanked her, and could
spare no nmoro, so she marched )ff
Having got a-y coeond caig. on shore-though I was fain to open
the barrels of powder, and bring them by parcels, for they were too
heavy, being large casks-I went to work to make me a little tent,
with the sail, and some poles, which I cut for that purpose, and into
this tent I brought everything that I knew would spoil either with
rain or sun ; and I piled all the empty chests and casks up in a circle
round the tent, to fortify it from any sudden attempt either from man
or beast.
When I had done this, I blocked up the door of the tent with some
boards within, and an empty chest set up on end without, and, spread-
ing one of the beds upon the ground, laying my two pistolsjust at
my head, and my gun at length by me, I went to bed for the first
time, and slept very quietly all night, for I was very weary and
heavy; for the night before I had slept little, and had labored very
hard all day, as well to fetch 11 those things from the ship as to get
them on shore.
I had the biggest magazine of all kinds iow that ever was laid up,
I believe, for one man: but I was not satisfied still, for while the ship
sat upright in that posture, I thought I ought to get everything ou'
of her that I could-so every day, at low water, I went on board, and-
brought away something or other; but particularly the third time I
went, I brought away as much of the rigging as 1 could, as also all
the small ropes and rope-twine I could get, with a piece cf spare
canvas, which was to mend the sails upon occasion, and the barrel o:
wet gunpowder. In a word, I brought away all the sails first an'
last, only that I was fain to cut them in pieces, and bring as much as
a time as I could, for they ere no more useful to be sails, but as
mere canvas only







ROBINSON CRUSOE 67

But that which comforted me still more was, that, last of all, after
I had made five or six such voyages as these, and though I had noth
ing more to expect from the ship that was worth my meddling with,
] say, after all this, I found a great hogshead of bread, and three
large runlets of rum or spirits, and a box of sugar, and a barrel of fine
flour this was surprising to me, because I had given over expecting
any more provisions, except what was spoiled by the water. I soon
emptied the hogshead of that bread, and wrapped it up, parcel by
parcel, in pieces of the sails, which 1 cut out-and, in a word, I got
all this safe on shore also.
The next day I made another voyage, and now having plundered
the ship of what was portable and fit to hand out, 1 began with the
cables, and cutting the great cable into pieces such as I could move,
I got two cables and a hawset on shore, with all the iron work I
could get, and having cut down the spritsail-yard, and the mizen-
yard, and everything I could, to make large raft, I loaded it with
all those heavy goods, and came away: but my good luck began now
to leave me, for this raft was so unwieldy, and so overladen, that after
I was entered the little cove, where I had landed the rest of my
goods, not being able to guide it so handily as I did the other, it
overset, and threw me and all my cargo into the water; as for my-
self, it was no great harm, for I was near the shore; but as to my
cargo, it was a great part of it lost, especially the iron, which I ex-
pected would have ber, rf great use to me; however, when the tide
was out, I got most of th<. pieces of cable ashore, and some of the
iron, though with infinite labor, for I was fain to dip for it into the
water, a work whlih fatigned me very much. After this I went
every day on board, and brought away what I could get.
I had now been thirteen days ashore, and had been eleven times on
hoard the -hip; in which time 1 had brought away all that one pair
of hands could well be supposed capable to bring; though I verily
believe, had the calm weather held, I should have brought away the
whole ship, piece by poece, but preparing the twelfth time, to go on
board, I found the wind began to iuse. However, at low water, I
went :r board ; and though I thought I had rummaged the cabin so
effectually as that nothing could be found, yet I discovered a locket
.vith drawers in it, in one of which I found two or three razors, and
one pair of large scissors, with some ten or a (ezen of good knives
and firks; in another I found about thirty-six pounds in money,
some European coin, some Brazil, som3 pieces of eight, some gold,
and some silver.







BO ADVENTURES OF

I smiled to myself at the sight of this money. 0 Irug!" I ei
claims d. -' what art thou good for ? Thou art not worth to me, no. not
the taking :fi' the ground ; one of tlhoe k:ives is worth all this heap.
I 1.:., .,,, .i :ner of use for tlhe ; c'cn remain where thou art. ald
go to itl bottom, as a creature whose life is not worth saving." Hlow
ever, unpon second thoughts, I took it away : and wrapping all this i
a piece of canvas. I began to think of malting another raft : but while
I Nwas preparing this, I found the sky overcast, and the wind began
to rise, and in a quarter of an hour it blew a fresh gale from the
shore. It presently occurred to me; that it was in vain to pretend to
make a raft with the wind off shore ; and that it was my business to
be gone before the tide or flood beg:n, or otherwise I might not be
able to reach the shore at all. Accordingly I let myself down into
the water, and swam across the channel which lay between the ship
and the sands, and even that wita difficulty enough, partly with th'b
weight of the things I had about me, and partly the roughness of the
water; for the windl rose \cry hastily, and before it was quite high
water it blew a storm.
But I was got home to my little tent, where I lay, with all my
wealth about me very secure. It blew very hard all that night,
and in the morning, when I looked out, behold no more ship was to
be een! I was a little surprised, but recovered myself w itl this
sati-'actory rerlectiiin, 7iz., that I had lost no time, or abated no
diligence, to get e:erytl'ing out of her, that would be useful to me,
l.nd that, indeed, there was little :ft n aer that I was able to bring
away, if I had more time.
I now gave over any more thoughts of the ship, or of anything out
of her, except whi:t might drive on shore from her wreck ; as indeed,
divers pieces of her afterward did; but th)se things were of small
use to me.
My thoughts were now wholly employed about securing tmys.l(
against either savages, if any should appear, or will easts, if any
were in the island; and I had many thoughts of the method how w"
do this, and what kind of dwelling to mal r-, whether I should make
a cave in the earth, or a tent upoi the eartn and, in ?h rt, I resolved
on both ; the manner and descri t'cn of which, it may not be in;
proper to give an account of.
I soon tound the place I was in was not for my settlement, par
ticularly because it was upon a low, moorish ground, near the sei,
and I believed it would not 'oe wholesome ; and more particularly
because there was no fresh water r near it: so I resolved to find
more healthy and more co-nvenient spot of ground.







ROBINSON CRISOL 69i

I consulted several things in my situation, which I found would be
proper for me: first, air and fresh water, I just now mentioned-
sec'ndly, shelter from the heat of the sun ; thirdly, security from
ravenous creatures, whether men or beasts ; fourthly, a view to thl
rea, that if God sent any ship in sight, I might not lose any ad-
vantage for my deliverance, of which I was not willing to banish all
my expectation yet.
In search of a place proper for this, I found a little plain on the
silc of a rising hill, whose front toward this little plain was as steep
as a lilhse-eide, so that nothing could come down upon me from the top.
On the side of this rock, there was a hollow place, worn a little way
in, like the entrance or door of a cave ; but there was not really any
cave, or way into the rock at all.
On the flat of the green, just before this hollow place I resolved to
pitch my tent. This plain was not above a hundred yards broad,
and about twice as hlng. and lay like a green before my door; and,
at the -nd of it, descended irregularly every way down into the low
ground by thle ,s'c:t-~ide. It was on the N. N. W. side of the hill; so
that it ;was sheltered from the leat every day. till it came to a W.
and by S. sun, or thereabouts, which, in those countries, is near the
setting.
Before I set up my tent, I drew a h-lf-circle before the hollow
place, which took in about ten yards in its semi-diameter from the
rock, an:d twenty yards in its diameter, from its beginning and
ending.
In this half-eircle I pitched two rows of strong stakes, driving
them into the ground till they stood very firm like piles, the biggest
end being out of the ground, about five feet and a half, and sharpened
on the top. The two rows did not stand above six inches from one
another.
Then I took the pieces of cable which I cut in the ship, and laid
them in rows, one upon another, within the circle, between these two
rows of stakes, up to the top, placing other stakes in the inside, lean
:ng against them. about two feet and a half high, like a spur to a
post; and this fence was so strong that neither man nor beast could
get into it or over it. This cost me a great deal of time and labor,
especially to cut the piles in the woods, bring them to the place, and
drive them into the earth.
The entrance into this place I made to be not by a door but by a
short ladder to go over the top; which ladder, when I was in, I lifted
-ver after me; and co I was completely fenced in and fortified, as I







ADVENTURES OP


thought, from all the world, and consequently slept secure in the
night, which otherwise I could not have done : though, as it appeared
afterward, there was no need of all this caution against the enemies
that I apprehended danger from.



Oiiaptrr $ir.

Carries all his Riches, Provision;, cta., into is Habitation-Dreariness cf Soli-
tude-Ccn~oiatory Reflections.

NTO this fence, or fortress, with infinite labor, I carried all
I my riches, all my ipi o iions, anniniition, and stores, of
S-r which you have the account above; and I made a large tent,
which, to preserve me from the rains, that in one part of the
year are very violent there, I made double, viz., one smaller tent
within, and one larger tent above it, and covered the uppermost with
a large tarpaulin, which I lad saved among the sails.
And now I lay no more for a while in the bed which I had brought
on shore, but in a halmmick, which was indeed a very good one, and
belonged to the n.ate of the ship.
Into this tent I brought all my provisions and everything that would
spoil by the wet, and having thus reclosed all my goods I made up
the entrance, which till now I had left open, and so passed and re-
passed, as I said, by a short ladder.
When I had done this, I began to work my way into the rock, and
bringing all the earth and stones that I dug down out through my
tent, I laid them up within my fence in the nature of a terrace, so
that it raised the ground within about a foot and a half, and thus I
made me a cave just behind my tent, which served me like a cellar to
my house. It cost me much labor and many days before all these
things were brought to perfection, and therefore I must go back to
some other things which took up some of my thoughts. At the same
time it happened, after I had laid my scheme for the setting up my
tent, and making the cave, that a storm of rain falling from a thick,
dark cloud, a sudden flash of lightning happened, and after that a
great clap of thunder, as is naturally the effect cf it. I was not to
much surprised with the lightning as I was with a thought, ;which
darted into my mind as swift as the lightning itself-O, my powder!
My very heart sank within me when I thought that, at one blast, all
my powder might be destroyed! On which, not my defence only, but







ROBINSON CRUSOE. 11

the providing me food, as I thought, entirely depended. I was nothing
near so anxions about my own danger, though, had the powder taken
fire, I should never have known what had hurt me.
Such impression did this make upon me, that after the storm was
over I laid aside all my works, my building and fortifying, and ap-
plied myself to make bags and boxes, to separate the powder, and to
keep it a little and a little in a parcel, in hope that whatever might
come it might not all take fire at once, and to keep it so apart that it
should not be possible to make one part fire another. I finished this
work in about a fortnight, and I think my powder, which in all was
about two hundred and forty pounds weight, was divided into not less
than a hundred parcels. As to the barrel that had been wet, I did
not apprehend any danger from that, so I placed it in my new cave,
which in my fancy I called my kitchen, and the rest I hid up and
dnfrn in holes among the rock-, so that no wet might come to it,
r.,i, ... very carefully where I laid it.
I ile interval of time while this was doing, I went out at least
.... .:-.ry day with my gun, as well to divert myself as to see if I
......' I ill anything fit for food, and as near as I could, to acquaint
r..' t with what the island produced. The first time I went out, I
-..r.'ly discovered that there were goats upon the island, which
: i- :i rcat satisfaction to me; but then it was attended with this
S:.- .l .me to me, viz., that they were so shy, so subtle, and so swift
f CI. t. that it was the most difficult thing in the world to come at
I ..:.. but I was not discouraged at this, not doubting but I might
r..- ..d then shoot one, as it soon happened, for after I had found
r Lunts a little, I laid wait in this manner for them : I observed,
ib ih. saw me in the valleys, though they were upon the rocks they
...I J run away as in a terrible fright; but if they were feeding in
i, alleys, and I was upon the rocks, they took no notice of me, from
S.. .I .. I concluded that, by the position of their optics, their sight
directed downward that they did not readily see objects that
Sv... above them, so afterward I took this method-I always climbed
Y I:, r... ks first, to get above them, and then had frequently a fair
r The first shot I made among these creatures I killed a she
L ,. which had a little kid by her, which she gave suck to, which
S". 1 me heartily; but when the old one fell the kid stood stock
It. I ;. her till I came and took her up; and not only so, but when I
rr;.:.1 the old one with me, upon my shoulders, the kid followed me
ui: I.0 my enclosure; upon which I laid down the dam and took the
Sin my arms and carried it over my pale, in hopes to have bred is







AiDVENTURES OF


up tame, but it would not cat, so I was forced to kill it and eat it my-
self. Tlhec two supiplied me with flesh a great while, for I eat spa-
ringly, and prefer ed my provisions (my bread especially) as much as
1 p:osibly could.
having inow fixed my habitation, I found it absolutely necessary to
provide a place to make a fire in, and fuel to burn ; and what I did
for that, as also how I enlarged my cave and what conveniences I
made, I shall give a full account of in its proper place, but I must
first give some little account of myself, and of my thoughts about liv-
ing, which it may well be supposed were not few.
I had a dismal prospect of my condition, for as I was not cast away
upon that i-land without being driven, as is said, by a silent etorm,
quite out cf the course of our intended voyage, and a great way, viz.,
sonio lundii:ed of leagues out of the ordinary course of the traid of
mankind, I had great reason to consider it as a determination of lieav-
cil thn:t in this hdesol:at place, and in thiis de'solato manner, I should
end my lit The tears would run plenty iiuy down my faee whlen I
imadc these riilecti.(ois and sometimes I would expostulate with n:y-
self why Priiov ideni should thus completely ruin its creatures, and
reader then ,';o al;solut'nly miserable. so abandoned without help, so
entirely depressed, that it could hardly be rational to be tlha; ful for
such a life.
ult something always returned swift upon me to cheek thesc
thoughts and 1t reprove me ; and particularly one day, walking with
my gun in my land by the seaside, 1 was very pensive upon the sub-
ject of my present condition, .wh en reason, as it were, expoEstuilated
vit' me the lther wav, thus: Well, you are in a desolate condition,
it is tru,1:'lut pray remember, where are the rest of you ? Did not you
cone, clov ci of you, into the boat ? Where are the ten ? Why were
they not saved and you lost ? Why were you singled out ? Is it bet-
ter to be here or there 1' And then I pointed to the sea. All evils
are to Ie considered with tho good that is in them, and with what
wor;o attends them.
Then it occurred to me again. how well I was furnished for my sub-
Eistence, and what would have been my case if it had not happened
(which was a hundred thousand to one) that the ship floated from thii
1lae where she first struck, and was driven so near to the shore tliat
I had t ti o p:et all these things out of her ? What would have Leen
my case if I had been to have lived in the condition in which I at firfS
came on bore, without necessaries of life, or necessaries to supply and
procure them ? Particularly, said I aloud (though to myself), what







ROBINSON CRUSOI 78

should I have done without a gun, without ammunition, without any
tools to make anything, or to work with, without clothes, bedding, a
tent, or any manner of covering ? and that now I had all these to a
sufficient quantity, and was in a fair way to provide myself in such a
manner as to live without my gun when my amunaution was spent, so
that I had a tolerable view of subsisting, without any want, as long as
I lived; for I considered, from the beginning, hc;a would provide
for the accidents that might happen, and for t'L imne that was to
onme, not only after my ammunition could be Bs-O. but even after
my health or strength should decay.
I confess I had not entertained a=y cot*cn of my amm-nition being
destroyed at one blast-I mean my -powder being blowr -p by light-
.ing-and this trade the thoughts Jf it co sury r:si:g to me when it
lightened and t!undcred, as I observed j':st Low.
And now beirg to enter into a melarcholy relation of a scene of
silent lift, such perhaps as was never hearI of in the world before, I
sha'! take it from its beginning and c-".tinue it in its order. It was,
bvy y account, the 30th of Septe:nber, when, in the manner as above
s3 i. first set tfot upon this horri I island ; when the sun, being to us
in its autumnal equinox, was almost just over my head; for I reckoned
myself, by observation, to be in th. latitude of nine degrees twenty-
two L.in'aes i.ortld uf the li:.e.



C pt r Stj n.
ilitlson a mode of Reckoning Time-Difecnlties arisia ':1 Want of Tool--
He Arranges his Ha'jitatix.

FTER I had been there about ten o- we've days, it came
Into my thoughts that I shoaull !osc my reckoning of
time for want of books and pen a:r ink, and should even
--. 'y forget the Sabbath days from the working days; but to pro
"ent thl- I cut it with my kjift upon a large p-'t in capital letters
and making it i.-.o a great cross, 1 set it u1, or_ the shore whore I first
landed, viz.: '- 1 care or sl.ore h,-re on the 2,ith f September, 1659."
I'pon the sides of t;is square post I cut avery day a notch with my
knife, and every seventh notch was as long again as the rest, and
every first day of the month as long again as that long one; and thus
I ke t my calendar, or weekly, monthly, and yearly reckoning of
time.







74 ADVENTUREB O0

But it happened, that, among the many things which I brought ovt
of the ship, in the several voyages, which, as above mentioned, I
made to it. I got several things of less value, but not at all less useful
to me, which I found some time after, in rummaging the chests; as,
in particular, pens, ink, and p:per : several parcels in the captain's,
mate's, gunner's. and carpenter's keeping: three or four coumpasce,
tome mathematical instruments, dials, ,pespectives, charts, and books
of navigation; all of which 1 huddled together, whether I mii;ht
want them or no; also, I found three very g d! Hibles, whlih came
to me in my cargo f om England, ar.1 which I h:al packed up among
my things; some Portuguese books also, and among them, two or
three popish prr.cr-books, and several other books, all which I care
fully secured. And i must not forget that we had in the ship a dog
and two cats, of whose eminent history I may have occasion to say
something in its place; for I carried both the cats with lme; and as
for the dog he jumped out of the ship himself, and swam on shore o '
me the day after I went on shore with my first cargo, and was a tru1'y
servant to me for many years; I wanted nothing that he could fet,:h
me, nor any company that he could make up to me, I only wanted to
have him talk to me, but that would not do. As I observed before
I found pens, ink, and paper, and I husbandod them to the utmost;
and I shall show that while my ink lasted, I kept things very exact,
but after that was gone, I could not; for I could not make any ink by
any means that I could devise.
And this put me in mind that I wanted many things notwithstand-
ing all that I had amassed together; and of those, this of ink was one;
as also a spade, I ickaxe, and shovel, to dig or remove the earth;
needles, pins, and thread; as for linen, I soon learned to wanL that
without much diflculty.
This want of tools made every work I did go on heavily; and it was
near a whole year before I had entirely finished my little pale, or
surrounded my habitation. The piles or stakes, which were as heavy
as I could well lift, were a long time in cutting and preparing in tl.e
woods, and more by far, in bringing home ; so that I spent sometimes
two days in cutting and bringing home one of those posts, and a third
lay in driving it into the ground; for which purpose, I got a heavy
piece of wood, at first, but at last, bethought myself of one of the
iron crows, which, however, though I found it answer, made driving
these posts or piles very laborious and tedious work. But what need
Ihave been concerned at the tediousness of anything I had to do;
eeing I had time enough to do it in; nor had I ary other employ







ROBINSON CRUSO1.


m r.t, if that had been over, at least that I could foresee, except the
:n.ging the island to seek for food; which I did, more or less, every
day.
I now began to consider, seriously, my condition, and t-e circum-
- t:e I was reduced to; and I drew up tile state of t,- affairs in
w' itiinu not so imuch to leave them to any that were to come after me
j I was iiLL to have but few heirs), as to deliver my thoughts from
c Idlv porI-' apcn ihem and afflicting my mind ; and as my .eason
Legar to mastn? my despondency, I began to comfort imyse :as well
a- conid. an'd a ret the good against the evil, that I inigl: have
sorcthling to distinguish my case from worse; and I stated very ir.u
pa .'ally, like debtor and creditor, the comforts 1 enjoyed agai:;et the
risneCes I ruiferod, thus:


CVIL.
I im east upon a horrible deso
lat ;rsanud, vc;.l of all hope of re-
coverly.

I air singled out and separated,
as it were, from all tie world, to
be mlisrable.


GOOD.
But I am alive ; and not drown.
ed, as all my ship's company
were.

int I am singled nut too from
all the ship's crew, to be spared
from death; : and lie, that nmraru-
Ilously saved me from death, can
deliver me from this con'litimn.


I am divided from mankind, a Itut I am not starve' and per-
solitaire; one banished from hu- ishing 'n a barren place. affording
man society. no suste;i'nce.


I have no clothes to cover me.



I am without any defence, or
means to resist any ii.lence of
man or beast.



I have no scul to speak to or
relieve me.


But I am in a hot climate, where
if I had cl.jthes, I could hardly
wear them.

But I am cast on an island
where I see no wild beasts to hurt
me, as I saw on the coast of Af-
rica : and what if I had been ship.
wrecked there ?

But God wonderfully sent the
ship in near enough to the shore,
that I have got out so many neces-
sary things, as will either supply
my wants, or enable me to supply
myself; even as long as I live.







ADVENTCBES OF


Upon the whole, here was an unbounded testimony, that there w
scarce any condition in the world so miserable, but there was some.
thing negative, or something positive, to be thankful for in it; an!
let this stand as a direction, from the experience of tlhe most miserable
of all conttions in this world, that we may always find in it somietlhing
to comfort ourselves from, and to set, in the description of good and
evil, on the credit side of the account.
Having now brought my mind a little to relish uy con lition. and
given over looking out to sea, to see if I could spy a sh;p ; I say given
over these things, I began to apply myself to accommodate my way
of living, and to make things as easy to me as I could.
I have already described my habitation, which was a tent under the
side of a rock, surrounded with a strong pale of posts and cable,;
but I might now rather call it a wall, for I raised a kind of wall against
it of turfs, about two feet thick on the outside; and after some time
(I think it was a year and a half) I raised rafters from it, leaning to
the rock, and thatched or covered it with boughs of trees, and s.wh
things as I could get, to keep out the rain; which I ibound, t some
times of the year. very violent.
I have already observed how I brought all my goods into tLih pale,
and into the cave which I had made behind inc. But [ must observe
too, that at first this was a confused heap of goods, which, as they l.ay
in no order, so they took up all my place: I had no room to turn my-
self; so I se, myself to enlargo miy cave and work further into the
earth o: It was a loose sandy rocL which yielded easily to the labor
I bestowed on it; and when 1 found I was pretty safe as to the beasts
of prey, I worked sidewise, to Ii:e right hand into the rock, and then
turning to the right ai;ai", worked qu;te out. and made me a door to
come out in the outs' i of my p'la or i'orifi;.ion.
This gave me not only rgr:ss ,nd regress, as it were, a back way
to my tent, and to my s'orehouve. but gavy mel room to stow my
goods.
And now I began to apl.1y myce:. to make ieuth necessary things
as I found I most wanted, particularly a chair and a table, for with.
out these I was not able to -ijoy the few comforts I had in the world;
I could not write, or eat, o. do several things with so much pleasure,
without a table. so I went to work. And here I must needs observe,
that as reason is the substance and original of the mathematics, so by
stating and sqiaring everything by reason, and by making the most
rational judgment of things, every man may be, in time, master of
every mechanic art. I had never handled a tool in my life; and yet,







ROBINSON CRUSOLE. 7

in time, by labor, application, and contrivance, I found at last that I
wanted nothing but I could have made, especially if I had had tools.
However, I made abundance of things, even without tools: and some
with no more to-'s than an adze and a hatchet, which perhaps were
never made that way before, and that with infinite labor. For ex-
ample, if I wanted a board, I had no other way but to cut down a
tree, set it on an edge before me, and hew it flat on either side with
my axe, till I had brought it to be as thin as a plank, and then dub it
smooth with my adze. It is true, by this method I could make but
one board of a whole tree, but this I bad no remedy for but patience,
any more than I had for a prodigious deal of time and labor which it
took me up to make a plank or hoard; but my time or labor wis
little worth, and so it was as well employed one way as another.
However, I made me a table and a chair, as I observed above, in
the first place. and this I did out of the short pieces of boards that I
Lrought ,L my raft from the ship. But when I wrought out some
Doardm, a- above, I made large shelves, of the breadth of a foot and a
half one over another, all along one side of my cave, to lay all my
tools, nails, and iron work on-and, in a word, to separate everything
at large in their places, thatI might easily c.mne at them. I knocked
pieces into the wall of the rock to hang my guns, and all things that
would hang up, so that had my cave been seen, it looked like a gen-
eral magazine of all necessary things; and I had everything so ready
at my hand, that it was a great pleasure to me to see all my goods in
such order, and especially to find my stock cf all necessaries so
great.
And now it was that I began to keep a journal of every day's em
ployment; for, indeed, at first, I was in too much hurry, and not only
as to labor, but in much discomposure of mind-and my journal
would, too, have been full of many dull things ; for example, I must
have said thus-" Sept. 30th. After I had got to shore, and had es
caped drowning, instead of being thankful to God for my deliverance,
having first vomited, with a great quantity of salt water which was
gotten into my stomach, and recovering myself a little, I ran about
the shore, wringing my hands, and beating my head and face, exclaim-
ing at my misery, and crying out I was undone-undjne! till, tired and
faint, I was forced to lie down on the ground to repose, but durst not
sleep, for fear of being devoured."
Some days after this, and after I had been on board the ship, and
got all that I could out of her, I could not forbear getting up to the
top of a little mountain, and looking out to sea, in hopes of seeing a






"8 ADVENTURES OP

ship: then fancy that, at a vast distance, I spied a sail, please niysel
with the hopes of it, iand, after looking steadily, till I was almost
blind, lose it (qlite, and sit down and weep like a child, and thus in
crease my mibery liy ni filly.
But, Ihaing gotten over these things in some measure, and having
settled my household stuff and habitation, made me a table and a
chair, antl all as handsome stuff about me as I could, I began to keep
my journal, of which I shall here give you the copy (though in it will
be told aill tlese pat-ticulars over tigain) as long as it lasted; for hav-
ing no more ink, I was forced to leave it off.




Cbnpttr iglt.

Robinson's Journal-Details of his Domestic Economy ana Con.riiceaw-
Shock of an Earthquake.
TIHE JOURNAL.

EP'I F),-.':~3, 30th, 1(59, 1, poor miserable Robinson Crusoe
being shiiiwrelke.d, during a dreadful stormn, in the offing,
ca:ino on shore on this dismal unfortunate island, which I
-- caLcalled tli ISLAND OF DesPAIR; all the rest of the ship's
company being diro Xlwti, and myself almost dead.
All the rest of th'ri day I spent in afflicting myself at the dismal
circulnmstances I v'-as brought to, viz.: I had neither food, house,
clotlhes, weapon, nor place to fly to ; and, in despair of any relief,
saw nothing but death before ine-that I should either be devoured
by wild beasts, murdered by savages, or star ed to death for want of
food. At the approach of night I slept in a tree, lor fear of Nild
creatures, but slept soundly, though it rained all night.
Oitober 1. In the morning I saw, to my great surprise, the ship had
flotcd with the high tide, and was driven on shore again nimuch
nearer the island; which, as it was s8om1 comfort on one hand for
seeing her sit upright. and not broken in pieces, I hoped, if the xildi
alated, I might get onl board, and get some food and necessarias out
of her for my relief). so, on the other hand, it renewed my grief at
the loss of my ciotiados, who, I imagined, if we had all stayed on
board, might iave saved the ship, or, at least, that they would not
have been pel difowinetl, as they were ; and that, had the men been
sated. we might perhaps have built us a boat, out of the ruins of the






ROBINSON CRUSOE. 79

ship, to have carried us to some other part of the world. I spent
great part of this day in perplexing myself on these things; but, at
lei.gth, seeing the ship almost dry, I went upon the sand as near as I
could, and then swam on board. This day also it continued raining,
though with no wind at all.
From the 1st of October to the 24th. All these days entirely spent
il in any several voyages to get all I could out of the ship, which I
brought on shore every tide of flood, upon rafts. Much rain also in
thise days, though with some intervals of fair weather, but it seems
this was the rain season.
Oct.. 20. I overset my raft, and all the goods I had got upon it; but
being in shoal water, and the things being chilly heavy, I recovered
many of them when the tide was out.
Oct. 23. It rained all night and all day, with some gusts of wind,
during which time the slip broke in pieces (the wind blowing a little
harder than before) and was no more to be seen, except the wreck of
her, and that only at low water. I spent this day in covering and so-
curing tile goods which I had saved, that the rain might not spoil
tlihm.
Oct. 20. I walked about the shore almost all day, to find out a place
to fix iny habitation, greatly concerned to secure myself from any
attack in the night, either from wild beasts or men. Toward nightI
fixed upon a proper place, under a rock, and marked out a semicircle
fur nmy encampment, which I resolved to strengthen with a work,
wall, or fortiiication, iiado of double piles lined within with cables,
and without witli turf.
From thi_ 26th to the 30th, I worked very hard in carrying all my
goods to my new habitation, though some part of the time it rained
exceedingly lard.
The 31st, in the morning, I went out into tlhe island with my gun to
seek for sonic food, and discover the country, when I killed a she-goat
and ier kid followed me home, which I afterward killed also, because
it would not feed.
November 1. I set up my tent under a rock, and lay there for the
first night, making it as largo as I could, with stakes driven in to swing
my halnmnock u1pon.
Nov. 2. I set up all my chests and boards, and the pieces of timber
wl.ich made my rafts. and with them formed a fence round me, a little
within the place I had marred out for my fortification.
Nor. 3. I went out with my gun and killed two fowls like ducks,
lbich were very good food. In the afternoon I went to work to make
me a table







80 ADVENTURE Or

Nov. 4. This morning I began to order my times of work, of going
out with my gun, time )f sleep, and time of diversion, viz.: every
morning I walked out with my gun for two or three hours, if it lid
not rain ; then employed myself to work till about eleven o'clock;
then ate what I had to live on; and from twelve to two I lay down to
sleep, the weather being excessive hot; and then, in the evening, to
work again. The working part of this day and the next was wholly
employed in making my table, for I was yet but a very sorry work-
man, though time and necessity made me a complete natural mechanic
soon af: r, as I believe they would any one else.
Nov. 5. This day went abroad with my gun and dog and killed a
wild cat; 'er skin pretty soft, but her tiesh good for nothing. Of
every ,reatu.re that 1 killed I took off the skins and preserved them.
Coming bati: by the seashore I saw many sorts of sea fowl, which I
did nut understand, but was surprised and almost frightened with two
or three seals, which, while I was gazing at them (not well knowing
what they vere), got into the sea and escaped me for that time.
Nov. 6. After my morning walk I went to work with my table
again and finished it, though not to my liking; nor was it long before
I learned to mend it.
Nov. 7. Now it began to be settled fair weather. The 7th, 8th,
9th, 10th, and part of the 12th (for the 11th was Sunday. according to
my reckoning), I took wholly up to make me a chair, and with nrmch
ado brought it to a tolerable shape, but never to please me, and even
in the making I pulled it to pieces several times.
NOTE. I soon neglected my keeping Sundays, for, omitting my
mark for them on my post, I forgot which was which.
Nov. 13. This day it rained, which refreshed me exceedingly-
cooled the earth-but it was accompanied with terrible thunder and
lightning, which frightened me dreadfully, for fear of my powder. As
soon as it was over I resolved to separate my stock of powder into as
many little parcels as possible, that it might not be in danger.
Nov. 14, 15, 16. These three days I spent in making little square
chests or boxes, which might hold about a pound, or two pounds at most,
of powder; and so, putting the powder in, I stowed it in places as secure
and as remote from one another as possible. On one of those days
killed a large bird that was good to eat, but I knew not what to call it.
Nov. 17. This day I began to dig behind my tent, into the rock,
make room for my further convenience.
NOTE. Three things I wanted exceedingly for this work, viz., a
pickaxe, a shovel, and a wheelbarrow or basket, so 1 desisted from mi







UOIOSSON CRUSOE. Ul

work, and began to consider how to supply these wants, and make me
some tools. As for a pickaxe I made use of the iron crowe, which
were proper enough, though heavy, but the next thing was a -hovel
or spade; this was so absolutely necessary that, indeed, I :ouAd do
nothing effectually without it, but what kind of one to make I know
not.
Nev. 18. The next day, in searching the woods, I found a tree of
that wood, or like it, whi:h in the Brazils they call the iron tree, from
its exceeding hardness: of this, with great labor, and almost spoiling
my axe, 1 cut a piece, and brought it home too, with difficulty enough,
for it was exceeding heavy. The excessive hardness of the wood, and
my having no other way, made me a long while upon this machine, for
I worked it effectually, by little and little, into the form of a shovel or
spade, the handle exactly shaped like ours in England, only that the
broad part, having no iron shod upon it at bottom, it would not last
me so long; however, it served well enough for the uses which I had
occasion to put it to, but never was a shovel, I believe, made after that
fashion, or so long in making.
1 was still deficient, for I wanted a basket or a wheelbarrow. A
basket 1 could not make by any means, having no such things as twigs
tnat would bend to make wicker ware-at least none yet found out-
and as the wheelbarrow, I fancied I could make all but the wheel, but
that I had no notion of, neither did I know how to get about it; be.
sIdcs, I had no possible way to make iron gudgeons for the spindle or
axis of the wheel to run in, so I gave it over; and, for carrying away
the earth which I dug out of the cave, I made me a thing like a hod,
which the laborers carry mortar in for the bricklayers. This was not
,o difficult for me as the making the shovel: and yet this and the
shovel, and the attempt which I made in vain to make a wheelbarrow,
took me up no loss than four days ; I mean always excepting my morn.
:g walk with my gun, which I seldom omitted, and very seldom failed,
also, bringing home something fit to eat
Nov. 23. My other work having now stood still, because of my
making these tools, when they were finished I went on, and working
every day, as my strength and time allowed, I spent eighteen days en-
tirely in widening and deepening my cave, that it might held my
goods commodiously.
NOTE. During all this time I worked to make this room or cave
spacious enough to accommodate me as a warehouse or magazine, a
kitchen, a dining-room, and a cellar. As for a lodging, I kept the
te.t, except that rometimed in the wet season of the year it rained m







"Z ADVENTURES e0'

h',u" that I could not keep myself dry, which caused me afterward tr
c,: .." :;ll my place within my pale with long poles, and in the form of
rit cr le.aiig against the rock, and load them with flags and large
;laves of trees, like a thatch.
Ie mnber 10. I began now to think my cave or vault finished, %lh -
on a sIdden (it seems I had made it too large) a great quantity of c i b
fell down from the top and on one side, so much that in short it fright-
ened me, 'Ind not without reason, t'o, for ;f I had been under it i
should novel have wanted a grave-digger. Upon this disaster I had
a great deal of work to do over again, for I had the loose earth to
carry out, and, which was of more importance, I had the ceiling to
prop up, so that I might be sure no more would come down.
Dec. 11. This day I went to -ork with it accordingly, and got two
shores or posts pitched upright to the top, with two pieces of board
across over each post; this I finished the next day, and setting nore
posts up with boards, in about a week more I had the roof secured:
and the posts standing in rows, served me for partitions to part off m

Dec. 17. From this day to the 30th I placed shelves, and knocked
up nails on the posts, to hang everything up that could be hung up
and now I began to be in some order within doors.
Dec. 20. 1 carried everything int:) the cave, and began to furnl.h
my house, and set up so:ne pieces of boards, like a dresser, to order
my victuals upon : but boards began to be very scarce with me; als',
I male nme another table.
Dec. 24. Much rain all night and all day; no stirring I at.
Dec. 25. Rp:ini all day.
Dec. 26. No rain, and the earth much cooler than before, and plea.
Banter.
Dec. 27. Killed a young goat; and lamed an'ither, so that I
watched it, and led it home in a string; when I had it home, I bound,
and splintered up its leg, which was broke.
N. B. I took such care of it that it lived; and the leg grew well.
a:Ad as strong as ever ; but, by nursing it so long, it grew tan(, anl
fed upon the little green at my uoor, and would not go away. 'Th
was the first time that I entertained a thought of breeding up some
tame creatures, that I might have food when my powder and shot was
all Spelit.
Dec. 28, 29, 30, 31. Great heats, and no breeze: so that there was
no stirring abroad, except in the evening, for food; this time I spent
in putting all my things in order within doors






ROBnISON CRUSO. ad

January 1. Very hot still; but I went abroad early and late
wirl my gun, and lay still in the middle of the day. This evening
going farther into the valleys which lay toward the centre of the
island, I found there was plenty of goats, though exceeding shy, and
hard to come at; however, I resolved to try if I could not bring my
dog to hunt them down. Accordingly, the next day, I went out with
.ny dog, and set him upon the goats; but I was mistaken, for they
all faced about on the dog; and he knew his danger too well, for he
ioulld not come near them.
Jan. 3. I began my fence or wall; which, being still jealous of
nmy being attacked by somebody, I resolved to make very thick and
strong.
N. B. This wall being described before, I purposely omit what
was said in the journal; it is sufficient to observe that I was no less
time than from the 3d of January to the 14th of April, working,
2niihing, and perfecting this wall; though it was no more than about
a twenty-five yards in length, being a half circle, from one place in the
:ock to another place, about twelve yards from it, the door of the
cave being in the centre, behind it.
All this time I worked very hard; the rains hindering me many
days, nay, sometimes weeks together; but I thought I should never
be perfectly secure till this wall was finished; and it is scarce credi-
ble what inexpressible labor everything was done with, especially the
bringing of piles out of the woods, and driving them into the ground;
for I made them much bigger than I needed to have done.
When this wall was finished, and the outside double fenced, with a
turf wall raised up close to it, I persuaded myself that if any people
were to come on shore there they would not perceive anything like a
habitation; and it was very well 1 did so, as may be observed here-
after, upon a very remarkable occasion.
During this time, I made my rounds in the woods for game every
day, when the rain permitted me, and made frequent discoveries, in
these walks, of something or other to my advantage; particularly, I
found a kind of wild pigeons, who build, not as wood-pigeons, in a
,ree, but rather as house-pigeons, in the holes of the rocks; and, tak
,ng some young ones, I endeavored to bring them up tame, and did
so; but when they grew older, they flew all away; which, perhaps,
was, at first, for want of feeding them, for I had nothing to give them;
however, 1 frequently found their nests, and got their young ones
which were very good meat. And now, in the management of my
household affairs, I found myself wanting in many things, which I







ADVENTURES OF


thought at first it was impossible for me to make; as indeed, lj t.
some of them, it was: for instance, I could never make a cask to be
hooped. I had a small runlet or two, as I observed before; but 1
could never arrive at the capacity of making one by them, though 1
spent many weeks about it. I could neither put in the heads, nor
join the staves so true to one another as to make them hold water so I
gave that also over. In the next place, I was at a great loss fox a
candle ; so that as soon as it was dark, which was generally by sev.-.
o'clock, I was obliged to go to bed. I remember the lump of bep3-
wax with which I made candles in my African adventure, but I ha.
none of that now the only remedy I had was that lrhen I killed a
goat, I saved the tallow ; and with a little dish i.-ade of clay, which I
baked in the suIn, to which I added a wick of some oakum. I made me
a lanmp; and Ihis gave me light, though not a clear steady light like
a candle. In tlhe middle of all miy labors, it happened that in runl:-
mlaging my things, I found a little bag ; which, as I hinted before
had been filled with corn. for the feeding of poultry ; not for this
v)ynige, but belf';re, as I suppose, when the ship came from Lishor
What little remi,;unte of corn had been in tie bag was all de-
voured by the rats, r.ed I saw nothing in the bag but husks and dust,
and being willing to have the bag for some other use (1 think it was
to put powder in. i hen I di\ideld it for fear of the lightning, or solme
suo.l use), I shook tEhe husks of corn out of it, on one side of lmy forti.
fiction, on tor the rock.
It was a little Ief;ore the great rain just now mentioned, that I
threw this stuff a way; taking no notice of anything, and not so much
as remembering that I had thrown anything there : when, about a
month after, 1 saw so me few stalks of something green, shooting out
of the ground, which I fancied might be some plant I iid not seen ;
but I was surprised. andt perfectly astonished, when, after a little
longer time. I saw about ten or twelve ears come out, which were
perfect green barley, of the same kind as our European, nay, as oar
English barley.
It is impossible to express the astonishment and confusion of my
thltghts lo this occasion. I had hitherto acted upon no religious
thundation at all : indeed. I had very few notions of religion in my
head, nor had entertained any sense of any things that had befallen
me, otherwise than as chance, or, as we lightly say, what pleases God :
without so mu.h as inquiring into the end of Providence in these
things, or his order in governing events in the world. But after I
Law barley grow there, in a climate which I knew was not proper fat







ROBINSO5 CRUSOL 55

corn, and aspe-in.lly as I knew not how it came there, it startled me
strangely ; and I began to suggest, that God had miraculously caused
this grain to grow without ary help of seed sown, and that it was as
directed purely for my sustenance, on that wild miserable place.
This touched my heart a little, and brought tears out of my eyes;
snd 1 began to bless myself that such a prodigy of nature should
happen upon my account: and this was the more strange to me. be.
cause I saw near it still, all along by the side of the rock, some other
straggling stalks, which proved to be stalks of rice, and which I
knew, because I had seen it grow in Africa, when I was ashore,
there.
I not only thought these the pure productions of Providence for
my cup;oort, but not doubting that there was more in the place, I went
over all that part of the island where I had been before, searching
in every corner, and under every rock, for more of it; but I could
ct lnd any. At last it occurred to my thoughts, that I had shook
out a b:.g of chicken's-meat in that place, and then the wonder began
,o cease; and I must confess, my religious thankfulness to God's
providence began to abate too, upon the discovering of all this was
nothing but what was common; though I ought to have been as
thankful for so strange and unforeseen a providence, as if it had been
miraculous; for it was really the work of Providence, as to me, that
should order or appoint that ten or twelve grains of corn should re-
main unspoiled, when the rats had destroyed all the rest, as if it had
been dropped from heaven; as also, that I should throw it out in
that particular place, where, it being in the shade of a high rock, it
sprang up immediately; whereas, if I had thrown it anywhere else
at that time, it would have bein burned up and destroyed.
I carefully sav-d the ears of this corn, you may be sure, in their
season, which vis about the end of June; and, laying up every corn,
i resolved to sow them all again, hoping, in time, to have some
quantity suffcie. t to supply me with bread. But it was not till the
fourth year that I could allow myself the least grain of corn to eat,
an:;. even then but sparingly, as I shall show afterward in its order;
!,,r I lost all that I sowed the first season, by not observing the
proper time ; as I sowed just before the dry season, so that it never
came up at all, at least -ot as it would have done; of which in its
police.
Besides this barley, there were, as above, twenty or thirty stalks of
rice, which I preserved with the same care, and whose use was of the
same Ii id, wo to te same purpose, viz.: to make me bread, or rathe,






ADvrNT'URES OF


food; for I fund ways to cook it without baking, though I did that
aloo for some timo. lut to return to my journal.
I worked excessively hard these three or four months, to get my
wall done ; and the 14th of April I closed it up, contriving to get into
it, not by a door, but over the wall, by a ladder, that there might be
no sign on the outside of my habitation.
April 16. I finished the ladder; so I went up with the ladder to the
top, and then pulled it after me, and let it down in the inside; this
was a complete enclosure to ime, for within I had room enough, and
nothing could come at me from without, unless it could first mount my
wall.
The very next day after this wall was finished, I had almost all my
labor overthrown at once, and myself killed ; the case was thue:-As I
was busy in the inside of it behind my tent, just at the entrance int.
my cave, I was terribly frightened with the most dreadful surprising
thing indeed ; for, all on a sudden, I found the earth come crumbling
down from the roof of my cave, and from the edge of the hill over my
head, and two of the posts I had set up in the cave cracked in a
frightful manner. I was heartily scared, but thought nothing of what
really was the cause, only thinking that the top of my cave was fall-
ing in, Is some of it had done before; and for fear I should be buried
in it, I ran forward to my ladder, and not thinking myself safe there
neither, I got over my wall for fear of the pieces of the hill which I
expected might roll down upon me. I had no sooner stepped down
upon the firm ground, than I plainly saw it was a terrible earthquake;
for the ground I stood on shook three times at about eight minutes'
distance, witl three such shocks as would have overturned the
strongest building that could be supposed to have stood on the earth;
and a great piece of the top of a rock, which stood about half a mile
from me, next the sea, fell down with such a terrible noise as I nev.e
heard in all my life. I perceived also that the very sea was put into
a violent motion by it; and I believe the shocks were stronger under
the water than on the island.
I was so much amazed with the thing itself (having never felt the
like, nor discoursed with any one that had) that I was like on:1 dead
or stupified ; and the motion of the earth made my stomach nick, like
one that was tossed at sea : hut the noise of the falling of the rock
awaked me, as it were; and rousing me from the stupified condition I
was in, filled me with horror, and I thought of nothing but the hill
falling upon my tent and my household goods, and burying all at
once this sunk my very soul within me a second time.






ROBUNSON CRUSOE. 87

After the third shock was over, and I felt no more for some time, I
began to take courage ; yet I had not heart enough to go over my wall
again, for fear of being buried alive, but sat still upon the ground
greatly cast down, and disconsolate, not knowing what to do. All
this while I had not the least serious religious thought; nothing but
the common Lord, have mercy upon me! and when it was over, that
went away too.
While I sat thus, I found the air overcast, and grow cloudy, as if it
SJuld rain; and soon after the wind rose by a little and little, so that
ii, less than half an hour, it blew a most dreadful hurricane ; the soe
Swas, all on a sudden, covered with foam and froth; the shore was cov-
ered with a breach of the water; the trees were torn up by the roots
and a terrible storm it was. This held about three hour, and then
Degan to abate ; and in two hours more it was quite calia. and began
at rain very hard. All this while I sat upon the ground, very much
terrified and dejected ; when, on a sudden, it came into my thoughts
that these winds and rain being the consequence of the earthquake
tie earthquake itself was spent and over, and I might venture into my
ci.ve agrino. Witl this thought my spirits begun to revive, and the
rain also helping to persuade me, I went in and sat down in my tent;
but the rain was so violent, that my tent was ready to be beaten down
with it; and I was forced to ,et into my cave, though very much
a.fr.id and uneasy, for fear it should fall on my head. This violent
rain forced me to a new work, viz.: to cut a hole through my new
Zortification, like a sink, to let the water go out: which would else
rave drowned my cave. After I had bee. in my cave i,)r some time,
Ssnd found no more shocks of the earthquake follow, I lugan to be
'iore composed. And now, to support my spirits, which indeed
anted it very much, I went to my little store, and took a small cup
:f rum; which, however, I d;d then, and always, very sparingly,
knowing I could have no more when that was gone. It continued
-rining all that night and great part of the next day, so that I could
not stir abroad: but my mind being more composed, I began to think
of what I had best do-concluding, that if the island was subject to
there earthquakes, there would be no living for me in a cave, but I
must consider of building me some little hut in an open place, which
I might surround with a wall, as I had done here, and so make my-
self secure from wild beasts or men; for if I stayed where I was, 1
should certainly, one time or other, be buried alive.
With these thoughts, I resolved to remove my tent from the place
where it now stood, being just under the hanging precipice of the







B5 ADVENTURES Or

hill, and which, if it should be shaken again, would certainly ftll upon
my tent. I spent the two next d.,ys, being the 19th and 20tl of April,
in contriving where and how to remove lly habitation. The fear of
being swallowed alive affected me so, that I never slept in quiet; and
yet thi. :;ii.',i!nsion of lying abroad, without any fence, was almost
equal to ;i : ;nut still, when I looked about, and saw how everything
was L.pu: i order, how pleasantly I was concealed, and how safe from
danger, it mad me very loath to re:.rove. In the meantime, it oo.
curred to me that it would require a vast deal of time for me to do
this awl that I must be contented to run the risk where I was, till 1
had formed a convenient camp, and secured it so as to remove it.
With this conclusion I composed myself for a time, and resolved that
I would go to work with all speed to build me a wall with piles and
cables, &c., in a circle as before, and set up my tent in itwhen it was
finished ; libt that I would venture to stay where I was till it was
ready, aind lit to remove to. This was the 21st.
April 22. The next morning I began to consider of means to put
this measure into execution, but I was at a great loss about the tools.
I had three large e, axs, anl abundance of hatchets (for we carried the
hatchets for traffic wi, tIho Indiins); but with much chopping and
cutting knotty hard n.;oid, they were ill frill of notches, and dull;
and though I had a grindstone, I could not turn it and grind my tools
too. This caused me as much thought as a statesman would have be-
stowed upon a grand point of politics, or a judge upon the life anc
death of at man. At length I contrived a wheel with a string, to turn
it with my foot, that I might have both my lands at liberty.
NOTE. I had never seen any such thing in England, or at least not
to take notice how it was done, though since I have olbnxud it is
very common there-besides that, my grindstone was very large and
heavy. This machine cost me a full week's work to bring it to per-
fection.
April 2R, 09. These two whole days I took up in grinding my tools
my machine for turning my grindstone performing very well.
April 30. Having perceived that my bread had been low a great
while, I n w took a survey of it, and reduced myself t( one 1iu.uit
cake a day. which made my heart very hoavv.







POBINSON CIIUSOZ.


CQapttr iine.
obimson obtains more Articles from the Wreck-His llnes and Affliction

Y 1. In the morning, looking toward the seaside, the tidl
being low, I saw something lie on the shore bigger than
^YI ordinary, and it looked like a cask; when I came to it, I
found a small barrel, and two or three pieces of the wreck of the
ship, which had been driven on chore by the late hurricane; and
looking toward the wreck itself, I thought it seemed to lie higher
out of the water than it used to do. I examined the barrel that was
driven on shore, and soon found it was a barrel of gunpowder; but
it had taken water, and the powder was caked as hard as a stone;
however, I rolled it farther on the shore for the present, and went on
upon the sands, as near as I could to the wreck of the ship to look
for more.
When I came down to the ship. I found it strangely removed. The
forecastle, which lay before buried in the sand, was heaved up at
least six feet; and the stern (which was broke to pieces ai.d parted
from the rest, by the force of the sea, soon after I had left rummaging
of her) was tossed as it were, up, and cast on one side; and the sand
was thrown so high on that side next her stern, that I could now walk
quite up to her when tle tide was out: whereas there was a great
piece of water before, so that I could not come within a quarter of a
mile of the wreck without swimming. I waJ surprised with this at
first, but soon concluded it must be dne by the earthquake: and as
by this violence the ship was more broken open than formerly, so
many things ca:ne daily on shore, which the sea had loosened, and
which the winds and water rolled by degrees to the land.
This wholly diverted my thoughts from the design of removing my
habitation ; and I busied myself mightily, that day especially, in
searching whether I could make any way into the ship ; but I found
nothing was to be expected of that kind, for all the inside of the ship
was choked up with sand. However, as I had learned not to despair
of anything, I resolved to pull everything to pieces that 1 could out
of the ship, concluding that everything I could get from her would
be of some use or other to me.
May 3. I began with my saw, and cut a piece of a beam through,
whinh I thought held some of the upper part or quarter-deck together,
and when I had :ut it through, I cleared away the sand as well as I







ADVENTURES OF


could from the side which lay highest; but the tide coming in, I was
obliged to give over for that time.
May 4. I went a fishing, but caught not one fish that I durst eat
of, till I was weary of my sport; when, just going to leave off, I
caught a young dolphin. I had made me a long line of some rope-
yarn, Itt I had no honks; yet I frequently caught fish enough, as
miich as I cared to eat; all 'f which I dried in the sun, and ate them
d ly.
lMay. 5. Worked on the wreck: cut another beam asunder, and
brought three great fir planks off from the decks, which I tied togeth-
or, and nmade swim on shore went the tide of flood came on.
lMaqy 6. Worked on the wreck : got several iron bolts out of her,
and other pieces of iron work: worked very hard, and came homo
very much tired, and had h thoughts of giving it over.
Mlay Went to the wreck again, but not. with an intent to work;
but found the weight of the wreck had broke itself down, the beams
being cut: that several pieces of the ship seomined to lie loose; and
tie inside of the hold lay so open that I coaul see into it; but almost
full of water and sand.
Mlay S. Went to the wreck, and carried an iron crow, to wrench
up the deck, which lay now quite clcer of the water and sand. I
wrenched up two planks, and brought thelm on shore also with the
tide. I left the iron crow in the wreck for next day.
Miay 9. Went to the wreck, and with the crow made my way into
the body of the wreck, and felt several casks, and loosened them
with the crow. but could not break them up. I felt also a roll ot
English lead, and could not stir it; but it was too heavy to remove.
May 10 to 14. Went every day to the wreck, and got i great
mJany pieces of timber, and boards, or plank, and two or three hun-
dred weight of iron.
May 15. I carried two hatchets, to try if I could not cut a piece
off the roll of lead, by placing the edge of one hatchet, and driving
it with the other ; but as it lay about a foot and a half in the water,
I could not make any blow to drive the hatchet.
May 16. It had blown hard in the night, and the wreck appeared
more broken by the force of the water ; but I stayed so long in the
woods, Wo get pigeons for food, that the tide prevented my going to
the wreck that day.
May 17. I saw some pieces of the wreck blown on shore, at a
great distance, two miles off me, but resolved to see what they were.
and found it was a piece of the head. but too heavy for me to bring
away.







ROmNSON onRrs3B 01

May 2- i ?- Rlay, to this daT, i worked on the wreck; and with
hard labor I loosened scmo things s.) much, with the crow, that the
first blowing tide seo ral casks floated out, and two of the seamen's
chests ; but the wind blowing from the shore, nothing came to land
hat day. but pieces of timber, and a hogshead wlich had some Brazil
pork in it; but the salt water and the sand had spoiled it. I contin-
ied this work every day to the 15th of June, except the time necesc
sary to g,'t food ; which I always appointed, during this part of my
employment, to be when the tide is up, that I might be ready when
it was cbbed out; and by this tmne I had gotten timber, and plank
and iron work enough to have bullet a good boat. if I had known how,
and I also got, at several times, and in several places, near one hun-
dred eight of sheet lead.
June 1(. Going down to the seaside, I found a largo tortoise or
turtle. This was the first I had soon ; which, it seerms, was only my
miilfortune, not any defect of the place or scarcity for had I happened
to be on the other side of the island I might have had hundreds of
them every day, as I found afterward; but perhaps had paid dear
enough for them.
June 17. I spent in cooking the turtle. I found in her three score
eggs; and her flesh was to me, at that thne, the most savory and
pleasant that I ever tasted in my life having had no flesh, but of
gnats and fiwls, since I landed in this horrid place.
June 1S. Rained all that day. and I stayed within. I thought, at
at this time, the rain felt cold, and I was somewhat chilly ; which I
knew was not unusual in that latitude.
June 19. Very ill and shivering, as if the weather had been cold.
June 20. No rest all night; violent pains in my Ilead and feverish.
June 21. Very ill: frightened almost to death with the apprchen-
Ssions of my sad condition, to be sick, and no help; prayed to God, for
the first time since the storm off IIull ; but scarce knew what I said
or why, my thoughts being all confused.
June 22. A little better, but under dreadful apprehension of sick.
hess.
June 23. Very bad again; cold and shivering, and then a violent
headache.
June 24. Much better.
June 25. An ague very violent; the fit held me seven hours-cold
fit. and hot, with faint sweats after it.
June 26. Better; and having no victna's to eat, took my gun, but
found myself very weak; however,I killed a she-goat, and with much







9? ADVENTURES OF

difficulty got it home, and broiled some of it, and at.:. ', would fail
have stewed it, and made some broth, but had no pot.
June 27. The ague again so violent that I lay a-bed all day, and
neither ate nor drank I was ready to perish for thirst; but so weak,
I had not strength to stand up, or to get myself any water '( drin-k.
Prayed to God again, but was light-headed; and when I was irl,
was so ignorant that I knew not what to say: nuly lay and cred.
" Lord, look upon me Lord, pity me! Lord, have mercy upon in.e!" *
suppose I did nothing ep!-o for two or three hours till the fit wearing
off; I fell asleep, and did not wake till far in the night. When I
awoke, I found myself much refreshed, but weak, and excedmin
thirsty; however, as I had no water in my whole habitation, I was
forced to lie till morning, and went to sleep again. In this second
sleep I had this terrible dream ; I thought that I was sitting on the
ground, on the outside of my wall, where I sat when the storm blew
after the earthquake, and that I saw a man descend from a great
black cloud, in a bright flame of fire, and light upon the ground ; he
was all over as bright as a flame, so that I could but just bear to look
toward him: his countenance was inexpressibly dreadful, impossible
for words to describe; when he stepped upon the ground with his
feet. I thought the earth trembled, just as it had done before in the
earthquake; and all the air looked, to my apprehension, as if it had
been filled with flashes of fire. lie had no sooner landed upon the
earth,but he moved forward toward me, with a long spear or weapon
in his hand, to kill me; and when lie came to a rising ground, al
some distance, he spoke to me. or I heard a voice so terrible that it ;i
impossible to express the terror of it ; all that I can say I understood
was this: "Seeing all these things have not brought thee to repentance
now thou shalt die ;" at which words, I thought he lifted up the speal
that was in his hand, to kill me.
No one that shall ever read this account, will expect that I should
be able to describe the horrors of my soul at thi:i terrible vision ;
mean, that even while it was a dream, I even dreamed of those hor.
rors: nor is it any more possible to describe the impression that re-
mained upon my mind when I awaked, and found it was but a dream.
I had, alas! no divine knowledge; what 1 had received by the
good instruction of my father was then worn out, by an uninterrupted
series, for eight years, of seafaring wickedness, and a constant cover.
nation with none but such as were. like imysef, wicked and profane to
the last degree. I do not remember that I had, in all that time, one
thought that so much as tended either to looking upward toward God







ROBINSON CRUSOE.


or inward toward a reflection upon my own ways; but a certain stu
pidity of soul, without desire of good, or consciousness of evil, had en
tirely overwhehlied me; and I was all that the most hardened, un
thinking. wicked creature among our common sailors, can be sup-
posed to be ; not having the least sense, either of the fear of God, in
danger, or of thankfulness to him, in deliverances.
In the relating what is already a part of my story, this will be the
irato easily believed, when I shall add, that through all the variety of
miseries that had to this day befallen me, I never had so much as one
thought of its being the hand of God, or that it was a just punishment
for my sin; either my rebellious behavior against my father, or my
present sins, which were great; or even as punishment for the gen-
eral course of my wicked life. When I was on the desperate expedi.
tion on the desert shores of Africa, I never had so much as one
thought of what would become of mie: or one wish to God to direct
Sme, whither I should g.) or t(. Keep me from the danger which ap-
. parently surrounded me, as well from voracious creatures as cruel
savages; but I was quite thoughtless of a God or a Providence ; acted
like a mere brute, from the principles of nature, and by the dictates
of common seese only; and indeed hardly that. When : was de.
livered and taken up at sea by the Portuguese captain, well used, and
dealt with justly, and honorably, as well as charitably, I had not the
least thankfulness in my thoughts. When, again, I was shipwrecked,
ruined, and in danger of drowning, on this island, I was far from re-
morse, or looking on it as a judgment; I only said to myself often,
that I was an unfortunate dog, and born to be always miserable.
It is true, when I first got on shore here, and found all my ship's
crew drowned, and myself spared, I was surprised with a kind of ec-
stacy, and some transports of soul, which, had the grace of God as-
sisted, might have come up to true thankfulness ; but it ended where
it began, in a mere common flight of joy; or, as I may say, being glad
I was alive, without the least reflection upon the distinguished good-
r.ess of the hand which had preserved me, and had singled me out to
be preserved when all the rest were destroyed, or any inquiry why
Providence had been thus merciful to me; just the same common
sort of joy which seamen generally have, after they are got safe
ashore from a shipwreck ; which they drown all in the next bowl of
punch, and forget almost as soon as it is over-and all the rest of my
life was like it. Even when I was, afterward, on due consideration,
made sensible of my condition-how I was east on this dreadful
place, out of the reach of human kind, c,- of all hope of relief, or







94 AVEMrTURES OF

prospect of redemption--as soon as I saw but a prospect of living, and
that I should not starve and perish for hunger, all the sense of my
affliction wore off, and I began to le very easy, applied myself to the
works proper for my p'-ccrvation and su( ply, and was far e cough
from bing afflicted tit my condition, as a judgment friom Ueaven, or
as the haud f Gnd against. me; these were thoughts which very
seldom entered into my head.
'lue growing up of the corn, as is hinted in my Journal, had, it
first, some little iulluence upon me, and began to affect me wi:h
seriousness. as long as I thought it had something miraculous in i.;
but as soon as that part of the thought was removed, all the impres.
sion which was raised f'roni it wore olf also, :s I have noted already.
Even the earthquake, tiiugl nothing cold ble more terrible in ts
nature, or more innmediately directing to the invisible Power, which
alone directs such things, yet no sooner was the fright over. but tlHe
impression it made went off also. I had non more sense of God or hid
judgments, much less of the present affliction of iny circumstances
being from Iis hand, than if I had been in the most prosperous con-
dition of life. But now, when I began to be sick, and a leisure view
of the miseries of death came to place itself before me ; when my
spirits began to sink under the burden of a strong distemper, and na-
ture was exhausted with the violence of the fever; conscience, that
had slept so long, began to awake ; and I reproached myself with my
past life, in which I had so evidently, by uncommon wickedness, pro.
voked the justice of God to lay me under uncommon strokes, and to
deal with me in so vindictive a manner. These reflections oppressed
me for the second or third day of my distemper : and, in the violence
as well of the fever as of the dreadful reproaches of my conscience,
extorted from me some words like praying to God; though I cannot
say it was a prayer attended either with desires or with hopes ; it
was rather the voice of mere fright and distress. My thoughts were
confused; the convictions great upon my mind: and the horror oi
dying in such a mi srable condition, raised vapors in my head with
the mere apprehension; and, in these hurries of my soul, I knev not
what my tongue might express; but it was rather exclamation, such
as, "Lord, what a miserable creature am I If I should be sick; I
shall certainly die for want of help; and what will become of me '
Then the tears burst out of my eyes, and I could say no more for a
good while. In this interval, the good advice of my father came to
my mind, and presently his prediction, which I mentioned at the be.
ginning of this story, viz : that if I did take this foolish step, GoJ







ROBINSON CRUSO.L 9

w)u.d not bless me; ani I should have leisure hereafter to reflect
upon having neglected his counsel, when there might be none to assist
in my recovery. Now," said I, aloud, my dear father's words are
come to pass; God's justice has overtaken me, and I have none o
help or hear me. I rejected the voice of Piovidence, which had mtr.
cifully put me in a station of life wherein I might have been happy
and easy; but I would neither see it myself, nor learn from my pa-
rents to know the blessing of it. I left them to mourn over my folly,
antd now I am left to mourn under the consequences of it ; I refused
their help and assistance, who would have pushed me in the world,
and would have made everything easy to me ; and now I have diffi-
culties to struggle with, too great for even nature itself to support;
and no assistance, no comfort, no advic-." Then I cried out, Lord,
be my help, for I am in great dist.Fss." This was the first prayer, it
I may so call it, that I had made for nany years. But I return to my
journal.





Hia Recovery-H's Comfort in Reading the Scriptures-Makea an Excursion ijr.
the Interior of the Island--Forms his Bower."

SUNE 28. Having been somewhat refreshed with the sleep I
had had, and the fit being entirely off, I got up, and though
the fright and terror of my dream was very great, yet I con-
sidered that the fit of the ague would return again the next
day, and now was my time to get something to refresh and support
myself when I should be ill. The first thing I did was to fill a large
square case bottle with water, and set it upon my table, in reach of
my bread, and to take off the chill or agncish disposition of the water,
I put about a quarter of a pint of rum into it, and mixed them to.
gether. Then I got me a piece of the goat's flesh, and broiled it on
the coals, but could eat very little. I walked about but was very
weak, and withal very sad and heavy-hearted in the sense of my mise-
rible condition, dreading the return of my distemper the next diy.
At night I made my supper of three of the turtle's eggs, which I
roasted in the ashes and ate, as we call it, in the shell; and this was
the first bit of meat I had ever asked God's blessing to, as I could re-
member, in my whole life. After I had eaten I tried to walk, but
found myself so weak that I could hardly carry the gun (for I never






ADVENTURES OF


went out without that), so I went but a little way and sat down up(n
the ground, liking out upon the sea which was just before me, and
very calm -und smooth. As I sat here, some such thoughts as these
occurred to me: What is this earth and sea, of which I have seen so
rmuch ? Whence is it produced? And what am I, and all the ot.er
creatures, wild and tame. human and brutal ? Whence are we ?
Surely we are all made by some secret power, who formed the earth
and sea, the air and sky; and who is that ? Then it followed most
naturally, it is God that has made all. Well, but then, it came on, if
God has made all these things, he guides and governs them all and all
things that concern them; for the power that could make all things
*iust certainly have power to guide and direct them; if so, nothing
can happen in the great: circuit of his works, either without his know-
ledge or aplpoiitmint.
And if noth:ig happens ulthout hi3 knowledge, he knows that I am
here, and am in this dreadful condition; and if nothing happens with-
ouL his appointment, he has appointed all this to befall me. Nothing
occurred to my thought to contradict any of these conclusions, and
therefore, it rested upon me with the greatest force that it must needs
be that God had appointed all this to befall mo; that I was brought
to this miserable circumstance by his direction, he having the sole
power, not of me only, but of everything that happens in the world.
Immediately it fidlowed : "Why has God done this to me ? What ha\e
I done to be thus used ?1 My conscience presently checked me in that
inquiry, as if I had blasphemed, and methought it spoke to me like a
voice: "Wretch! dost thou ask what thou hast done ? Look back upon
a dreadful, misspent lift, and ask thyself what thou hast nt done ?
Ask why is it thou wert not long ago destroyed ? Why wert thou
not drowned in Yarmouth Roads; killed in the fight when the ship
was taken by the Sallee man-of-war; devoured by the wild beasts on
the coast of Africa; or drowned here, when all the crew perished but
thyself? Dost thou ask what thou hast done ?" I was struck dumb
with these rflections, as one astonished, and had not a word to say-
no, not to answer to myself-and rising up, pensive and sad, walked
back to my retreat, and went over my wall as if I had been going to
bed; but my thoughts were sadly disturbed, and I had no inclination
to sleep, so I sat down in the chair and lighted my lamp, for it began
to be dark. Now, as the apprehension of the return of my distemper
terrified me very much, it occurred to my thought that the Brazilians
take no physic but their tobacco for almost all distempers, and I had
a piece of a roll of tobacco in one of the chests, which was quite cured,
and some, also, that was green, and not quite cured.







ROBINSON CRUSOIL I1

I went, directed by Heaven, no doubt, for in this chest I found a
cure for both soul and body. I opened the chest and found what I
looked for, viz., the tobacco; and as the few books I had saved lay
there too, I took out one of the bibles which I mentioned before, and
which, to this timeI had not found leisure or so much as inclination
to look into. I say I took it out, and brought both that and the tobacco
with me to the table. What use to make of the tobacco I knew not,
as to my distemper, nor whether it was good for it or not, but I tried
several experiments with it, as if I was resolved it should hit one way
or other. I first took a piece of the leaf and chewed it in my mouth,
which indeed, at first, almost stupified my brain, the tobacco being
green and strong, and such as I had not been much used to. Then I
took some and steeped it an hour or two in some rum, and resolved to
take a dose of it when I lay down; and lastly, I burnt some upon a
pan of coals, and held my nose close over the smoke of it as long as I
could bear it, as well for the heat as almost for suffocation. In the
interval of this operation I took up the bible and began to read, but
my head was too much disturbed by the tobacco to bear reading, at
least at that time; only, having opened the book casually, the first
words that occurred to me were these: "Call on me in the day cf
trouble and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me." These
words were very apt to my cas>, and made some impression upon my
thoughts at the time of reading them, though not so much as they did
afterward; for. as for being delivered, the word had no sound, as I may
say, to me; the thing was so remote, so impossible in my apprehen-
sion of things, that, as the children of Israel said, when they were
promised flesh to eat, "Can God spread a table in the wilderness V?
so I began to say, Can even God himself deliver me from this
place F' And as it was not for many years that any hopes appeared,
this prevailed very often upon my thoughts; but, however, the words
made a great impression upon me, and I mused upon them very often.
It now grew late, and the tobacco had, as I said, dozed my head so
much that I inclined to sleep, so I left my lamp burning in the cave,
lest I should want anything in the night, and went to bed ; but, be-
fore I lay down, I did what I never had done in all my life, I kneeled
down and prayed to God to fulfil the promise to me. After my bro-
ken and imperfect prayer was over, I drank the rum in which I had
steeped the tobacco, which was so strong and rank of the tobacco that
inbced I could scarce get it down ; immediately upon this I went to
bed. I found, presently; the rum flow up into my head violently, but
1 fell into a sound sleep and waked no more till, by the sun, it mut







98 ADVENTURZS OF

necessarily be near three o'clock in the afternoon the next day; nay
to this hour, I am partly of opinion that I slept all the next day and
night, and till almost three the day after; for, otherwise, I know not
how I should lose a day out of my reckoning in the days of the week,
as it appeared, some years after, I had done; for, if i had lost it by
crossing and re-crossing the line, I should have lost more than one
day; but certainly I lost a day in my account, and n"vor know which
way. Be that, however, one way or the other, when I awaked I found
myself exceedingly refreshed, and my spirits lively and cheerful.
When I got up I was stronger than I was the day before, and
my stomach better, for I was .hungry; and, in short, I had no fit
the next day, but continued much altered for the better. This was
the 20th.
The 30th was my well day, of course; and I went abroad with
my gun, but did not care to travel too far. I killed a sea-fowl or
two, something like a brand goose, and brought them home, but
was not very forward to eat them; so I ate some more of the
turtle's eggs, which were very good. This evening I renewed the
medicine, which I had supposed did me good the day before, viz., the
tobacco steeped in rum ; only I did not take so much as before, nor
did I chew any of the leaf, or hold my head over the smoke ; how-
ever, I was not so well the next day, which was the 1st of July, as
I hoped I should have been; for I had a little of the cold fit, but
it was not much.
July 2. I renewed the medicine all the three ways; and dosed
myself with it as at first, and doubled the quantity which I drank.
July 3. I missed the fit for good and all, though I did not recover
my full strength for some weeks after. While I was thus gathering
strength, my thoughts ran exceedingly upon this Scripture, "I will
deliver thee :" and the impossibility of my deliverance lay much upon
my mind, in bar of my ever expecting it: but as I was discouraging
myself with such thoughts, it occurred to my mind that I pored so
much upon my deliverance from the main affliction, that I disregarded
the deliverance I had received; and I was, as it were, made to ask
myself such questions as these, viz., Have I not been delivered, and
wonderfully, too, from sickness; from the most distressed condition
that could be and that was so frightful to me ? and what notice have
I taken of it? Have I done my part? God has delivered me, but I
have not glorified him; that is to say, I have not owned and beeu
thankful for that as a deliverance : and how can I expect a greater
deliveriwce ? This touched my heart very much: and immediately I







ROBINSON CRUSOE


knelt down, and gave God thanks aloud for my recovery from my
sickness.
July 4. In the morning I took the Bible: and beginning at the
New Testament, I began seriously to read it; and imposed upon my-
self to read awhile every morning and every night; not binding myself
to tle number of chapters, but as long as my thoughts should engage
me. It was not long after I set seriously to this work, that I founl
my heart more deeply and sincerely affected with the wickedness of
my past life. The impression of my dream revived: and the words,
" All these things have not brought thee to repentance," ran seriously
in my thoughts. I was earnestly begging of God to give me repent
ance, when it happened providentially, the very same day, tiht, read
ing the Scripture, I came to these words, lie is exalted a Prince
and a Saviour, to give repentance and to give remission." I threw
down the book; and with my heart as well as my hands lifted up te
heaven, in a kind of ecstacy of joy, I cried out aloud," Jesus, thou Sot
of David! Jesus, thou exalted Prince and Saviour! give me repent-
ance!" This was the first time in all my life I could say, in the true
sense of the words, that I prayed; for now I prayed with a sense of
my condition, and with a true scripture view of hope, founded on the
encouragement of the word of God: and from this time I may say, I
began to have hope that God would hear me.
Now I began to construe the words mentioned above, Call on
me, and I will deliver thee," in a different sense from what I had
ever done before; for then I had no notion of anything being called
deliverance, but my being delivered from the captivity 1 was in; for
though I was at large in the place, yet the island was certainly a
prison to me, and that in the worst sense in the world. But now I
learned to take it in another sense ; now I looked back upon my past
life with such horror, and my sins appeared so dreadful, that my
sjul sought nothing of God but deliverance from the load of guilt
that bore down all my comfort. As for my solitary life, it was
nothing; I did not so much as pray to he delivered from it, or think
of it; it was all of no consideration, in comparison with this. And I
add this part here, to hint to whoever shall read it, that whenever:
they come to a true sense of things, they will find deliverance from
sin a nuch greater blessing than deliverance from affliction.
My condition began now to be, though not loss miserable as to my
way of living, yet much easier to my mind; and my thoughts being
directed, by constantly reading the Scripture and praying to God, to
things of a higher nature, I had a great deal of comfo-t within







100 ADVENTURES OP

which, till now, I know nothing of; also, as my health and strength
returned. I bestirred me to furnish myself with everything that I
wanted, and make my way of living as regular as I could.
From the 4th of July to the 14th, I was chiefly employed in walk-
ing about with my gun in my hand, a little and a little at a time, as
a man that was gathering up his strength after a fit of sickness; for
it is hardly to be imagined how low I was, and to what weakness I
was reduced. The application which I made use of was perfectly
new. and perhaps what had never cured an ague before: neither can
I recommend it to any one to practise, by this experiment; and
though it did carry off the fit, yet it rather contributed to weaker
me; for I had frequent convulsions in my nerves and limbs for some
time. I learned from it also this, in particular; that being abroad in
the rainy season was the most pernicious thing to my health that
could be, especially in those rains which came attended with storms
and hurricanes of wind; for as the rain which came in the dry season
was ahlost always accompanied with such stores, so I found that this
rain was much more dangerous than the rain which fell in September
and October.
I had now been in this unhappy island above ten months. All
possibility of deliverance from this condition seemed to be entirely
taken from me ; and I firmly behleved that no human shape had ever
set foot upon that place. Ilaving secured my habitation, as I thought,
fully to my mind, I had a great desire to make a more perfect dis-
covery of the island, and to see what other productions I might find
which I yet knew nothing of.
It was on the 15th of July that I began to take a more particular
survey of the island itself. I went tp the creek first where, as I
hinted, I brought my rafts on shore. I found after I came about two
miles up, that the tide did not flow any higher; and that it was no more
ihan a little brook of running water, very fresh and good ; but this
being the dry season, there was hardly any water in some parts of it:
at least, not any stream. On the banks of this brook I found many
pleasant sa.vannahs or meadows, plain, smooth, and covered wiih
grass; and on the rising parts of them, next to the higher grounds
(where the water, as it might be supposed. never overflowed). I found a
great deal of tobacco, green, and growing to a very great and strong
stalk: and there were divers other plants, which I had no knowledge
of, or understanding about, and that might, perlnips, have virtues of
their own, which I could not find out. I searched for the cassava
root, which the Indians in all that climate, make their bread of; but







ROBINSON CRrBSK. 101

f could find none. I saw large plants of aloes, but did not understand
them. I saw several sugar-canes, but wild; and, for want of cultiva-
tion, imperfect. I contented myself with these discoveries for thia
time; and came back. musing with myself what course I might take
to know the virtue and goodness of any of the fruits or plants which
I should discover; but could bring it to no conclusion; for, in short,
I made so little observation while I was in the Brazils, that I knew
little of the plants in the field; at least, very little that might serve
me to any purpose now in my distress.
The next day, the 16th, I went up the same way again; and after
going something further than I had gone the day before, I found the
brook and the savannahs begin to cease, and the country became more
woody than before. In this part I found different fruits; and partic-
ularly I found melons upon the ground in great abundance, and grapes
upon the trees; the vines, indeed, had spread over the trees, and the
clusters of grapes were now just in their prime, very ripe and rich.
This was a surprising discovery, and I was exceedingly glad of them;
but I was warned by my experience to eat sparingly of them; remem-
bering, that when I was ashore in Barbary,the eating of grapes killed
several of our Englishmen, who were slaves there, by throwing them
into fluxes and fevers. I found, however, an excellent use for thesu
grapes; and that was to cure or dry them in the sun, and keep them
as dried grapes or raisins are kept; which I thought would be (as in-
deed they were) as wholesome and as agreeable to eat, when no grapes
were to be had.
I spent all that evening there, and went not back to my habitation;
which, by the way, was the first night, as I might say, I had lain from
homo. At night, I took my first contrivance, and got up into a tree,
where I slept well: and the next morning proceeded on my discovery,
travelling near four miles as I might judge by the length of the val-
ley ; keeping still due north, with a ridge of hills on the south and
north sides of me. At the end of this march I came to an opening,
where the country seemed to descend to the west; and a little spring
of fresh water, which issued out of the side of the hill by me, ran
the other way, that is due east; and the country appeared so fresh,
so green, so flourishing, everything being in a constant verdure, or
flourish of spring, that it looked like a planted garden. I descended
a little on the side of that delicious vale, surveying it with a secret
kind of pleasure (though mixed with other afflicting thoughts), ts think
that this was all my own; that I was king and lord of all this country
indefeasibly, and had a right of possession; and, if I could convey




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