Citation
The Life and strange surprising adventures of Robinson Crusoe of York, mariner

Material Information

Title:
The Life and strange surprising adventures of Robinson Crusoe of York, mariner
Uniform Title:
Robinson Crusoe
Creator:
Defoe, Daniel, 1661?-1731 ( Author, Primary )
Hughes, Edward ( Illustrator )
Cobb, T. ( Engraver )
Pearson ( Engraver )
Thomas, William Luson, 1830-1900 ( Engraver )
Walsh, Francis ( Engraver )
Williams, Thomas ( Engraver )
Cowper, William, 1731-1800 ( Author, Secondary )
Howell, John 1788-1863 Life of Alexander Selkirk ( Author, Secondary )
Hubbard Bros ( Publisher )
E. Hannaford & Co ( Publisher )
A.L. Bancroft & Company ( Publisher )
Goodwyn & Co ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
Philadelphia
Boston
Cincinnati
Chicago
San Francisco
New Orleans
Publisher:
Hubbard Bros.
E. Hannaford & Co.
A.L. Bancroft & Co.
Goodwyn & Co.
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
528 p. : ill., port. ; 22 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Adventure fiction ( gsafd )
Crusoe, Robinson (Fictitious character) -- Fiction ( lcsh )
Survival after airplane accidents, shipwrecks, etc -- Fiction ( lcsh )
Castaways -- Fiction ( lcsh )
Islands -- Fiction ( lcsh )
Genre:
Action and adventure fiction ( fast )
fiction ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Pennsylvania -- Philadelphia
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
United States -- Ohio -- Cincinnaati
United States -- Illinois -- Chicago
United States -- California -- San Francisco
United States -- Louisiana -- New Orleans

Notes

Citation/Reference:
Lovett, R.W. Robinson Crusoe
Citation/Reference:
NUC pre-1956,
General Note:
Spine title: Robinson Cruseo <sic>
General Note:
This is a reprint of the text prepared for the Oxford ed. of De Foe's miscellaneous works, 1839, and "carefully compared with a copyright edition printed at Edinburgh in 1846, and several slight errors corrected. ... It is believed that the edition here presented is the most perfect in existence."--P. 33.
General Note:
"Howell's life of Alexander Selkirk" abridged, p. 519-528.
General Note:
Parts I and II of Robinson Crusoe.
Statement of Responsibility:
as related by himself, by Daniel De Foe ; with an autobiographical memoir of the author, and a life of Alexander Selkirk, by whose residence on the island of Juan Fernandez the work was suggested ; profusely illustrated.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
02915112 ( OCLC )
06032888 ( LCCN )
027160014 ( aleph )

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Full Text


DE FOR.

DANIEL






AND

STRANGE SURPRISING ADVENTURES

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOE

Of York, Mariner.

AS RELATED BY HIMSELF.

BY

DANIEL DE FOE.
With an Autobiographical Memoir of the Author,
AND A
LIFE OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK,’

BY WHOSE RESIDENCE ON THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ THE WORK WAS SUGGESTED,

f

Hout floiia —




HUBBARD BROS., PHILA. & BOSTON;
E. HANNAFORD & Co., CINCINNATI AND CHicaco; A. L. BANCROFT
Francisco; Goopwyn & Co., NEW ORLEANS.
1872,







e
e
4
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
HUBBARD BROTHERS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.





INTRODUCTION.



E FOE published “ Robinson Crusoe” in 1719, under
the following quaint title: “The Life and Strange Sur-
1K prising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Ma-
: yiner: who lived eight-and-twenty years all alone in an
uninhabited island on the coast of America, near the
mouth of the great river Oroonoque; having been cast on
shore by shipwreck, wherein all the men perished but
himself. With an account how he was at last strangely
delivered by Pirates. Written by himself.”

Like “Paradise Lost,” this romance, destined to so immediate and
lasting a popularity, is said to have been offered to “the whole circle of
the trade” before any publisher could be found willing to incur the risk
of producing it. Its success however was so great that four editions
were printed in as many months. It appeared, in the first instance, with
the following preface :—




If ever the story of any private man’s adventures in the world were worth making
public, and were acceptable when published, the Editor of this account thinks this
will be so.

The wonders of this man’s life excced all that (he thinks) is to be found extant;
the life of one man being scarce capable of a greater variety.

The story is told with modesty, with seriousness, and with a religious application
of events to the uses to which wise men always apply them; viz., to the instruction
of others, by this example, and to justify and honor the wisdom of Providence in all
the variety of circumstances, let them happen how they will.

The Editor believes the thing to be a just history of fact; neither is there any
appearance of fiction in it: and however thinks, because all such things are dispfted,
that the improvement of it, as well to the diversion as to the instruction of the
reader, will be the same; and as such, he thinks, without farther compliment to the

world, he does them a great service in the publication.

The great success of the first part induced De Foe to write a second,
which was published in August, 1719; Part I. having appeared in the
previous April. A map of the world accompanied it, to give a greater
appearance of truth to the tale, on which the travels of Crusoe were
indicated, and its proper place assigned to the island.

Author's preface to the 2d Part:—

The success the former part of this work has met with in the world’ has yet been

no other than is acknowledged to be due to the surprising variety of the subject, and
to the agreeable manner of the performance. .

The just application of every incident, the religious and useful inferances drawn: : |

5








6 INTRODUCTION.

.
from every part, are so many testimonies to the good design of making it public, and
must legitimate all the part that may be called invention or parable in the story.

The second part, if the Editor’s opinion may pass, is (contrary to the usage of
second parts) every way as entertaining as the first; contains as strange and sur-
prising incidents, and as great a variety of them; nor is the application less serious
or suitable ; and doubtless will, to the sober as well as ingenious reader, be every
way as profitable and diverting.

In so far as Selkirk passed a certain number of years on an uninha-
bited island, he may be truly said to have furnished the idea of Crusoe;
but the subordinate figures, the grouping, and the scenery are altogether
due to the genius of De Foe. Herein he affords an exact parallel to
Shakespeare, who derived the plots of his immortal dramas, now from an
Italian romance, now from passing events.

Whatever may have been the origin of the tale, however virulent may
have been the attacks made against its author, as he himself says, by
political enemies and senseless critics, the judgment of the most enlight-
ened men of all nations has placed “ Robinson Crusoe” upon a height
which no sounds of animosity can now reach. What pleasure has this
wonderful tale given, and still gives, to all readers! Young and old,
rich and poor, find in its pages an unfailing source of pure delight.

It blends instruction with amusement in a way no other production of
human intellect has ever succeeded in doing. While depicting a solitary
individual struggling against misfortune, it indicates the justice and the
mercy of Providence; and while inculeating the duty of self-help, asserts
the complete dependence of man upon a higher power for all he stands
in need of.

If we consider novels in their relation to life, “Robinson Crusoe”
must win the prize for truthfulness and reality. How naturally the in-
cidents occur! There is no deference shown by the author to the exi-
gencies of his story, nor to dramatic effect. The characters appear as
they do in real life—exercise some influence for good or evil on the
principal figure in the tale—and then disappear, to be seen no more.
Take, for instance, Xury. Would not a novelist of less power have
brought him forward, over and over again, after he had once introduced
him as the faithful friend of the hero? But De Foe saw fit to do other-
wise. Xury is brought upon the stage; assists the escape of the chief
personage in the drama; and is seen no more. Is not this the way of
real life?

Nor does the effect of reality stop here. So natural are all the cha-
racters, that we seem to know them personally—to be ourselves assisting
at the scenes recorded in it.

For these excellencies the learned and the good have uniformly per-
sisted in singling out “Robinson Crusoe” for special commendation. To
mention only two—Rousseau held that it was the book a boy should read
first and read longest. Dr. Johnson remarked, “Was there ever any-
thing written by mere man that was wished longer by its readers, except-
ing ‘Don Quixote,’ ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ and the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ?’”



INTRODUCTION. 7

Tn conclusion, we present to our readers the touching lines in which
Cowper supposes Alexander Selkirk to record his feelings :—

Tam monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute ;
From the centre all round to the sea,
Iam lord of the fowl and the brute.

O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?

Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.

lam out of humanity’s reach,
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech—
‘I start at the sound of my own.

The beasts, that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference see ;

They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, friendship, and love,
Divinely bestow’d upon man,

Oh! had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again!

My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth,
Might learn from the, wisdom of age,
And be cheer’d by the sallies of youth.

Religion! what treasure untold
Resides in that heavenly word!
More precious than silver and gold,
Or all that this earth can afford.



But the sound of the church-going bell
These valleys and rocks never heard,

Never sigh’d at the sound of a knell,
Or smiled when a Sabbath appear’d.

Ye winds, that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore

Some cordial, endearing report
Of a land I shall visit no more.

My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?

Oh! tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.

How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-wing’d arrows of light.

When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.

But the sea fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.

There’s mercy in every place,

And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot.









CONTENTS.

MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR->



seas ss aiien ster eeterseserseeees es «Page 12

CHAPTER I.

My Birth and Parentage—At Nineteen Years of Age I determine to go to Sea—Dissuaded by my Parents—
Elope with a Schoolfellow, and go on board Ship—A Storm arises, during which I am dreadfully fright-
encd—Ship founders.—Myself and Crew saved by @ Bout from another Vessel, and landed near Yarmouth
—Mect my Companion’s Father there, who advises me never to go to Sea more, but all in vain..----. 35

CHAPTER II.

Make a Trading Voyage to Guinea very successfully—Death of my Captain—Sail another Trip with his
Mate—The Vengeance of Providence for Disobedience to Parents now overtakes me—Taken by a Salee
Rover, and all sold as Slaves—My Master frequently sends me fishing, which suggests an idea of Escape
—Make my Escape in an open Boat, with a Moresco Boy.--+++++s+eseeeeee ee eee ee eens see wee 48





CHAPTER III.

Make for the Southward, in hopes of mecting with some European Vessel—See Savages along Shore—
Shoot a large Leopard—Am taken up by a Merchantman—Arrive at the Brazils, and buy a Settlement
there—Cannot be quiet, but Sail on a Voyage of Adventure to Guinea—Ship strikes on a Sand-bank in
unknown Land—All lost but myself, who am driven ashore, half dead..--+++..0+e.seeeeeee cess eeeee 58

CHAPTER IV.

Aprearance of the Wreck and Country next Day—Swim on board of the Ship, and, by means of a Con-
trivance, get a quantity of Stores on Shore—Shoot a Bird, but it turns out perfect Carrion—Moralize
upon my Situation—The Ship blown off Land, and totally lost—Set out in search of a proper place for

a Habitation—See numbers of Goats—Melancholy Reflections.- +++. ++ ++eeseeeeee tree et ee eee eens 73

CHAPTER Y.

»
I begin to keep a Journal—Christen my desert Island the Island of Despair—Fall upon various Schemes
to make Tools, Baskets, &c. and begin to build my House—At a great loss of an Evening for Candle, but
fall upon an expedient te supply the want—Strange discovery of Corn—A terrible arthquake and
Storm... 0+ cceescsec cscs ec ec cree ec cncenvccvccccseessscesscace he eSR ae Cie esb seen wens anid nslecie’:e 91



CHAPTER VI.



Observe the Ship driven farther aground by the late Storm—Procure a vast quantity of Necegsaries from
the Wreck—Catch a large Turtle—I fall illofa Fever and Ague—Terrib e Dream, and seriou? Reflections
thereon—Find a Bible in one of the Seamen’s Che:
comfort.



thrown ashore, the



ing whereof gives me great
+102



CHAPTER VII.

I begin to take a survey of my Island—Discover plenty of Tobacco, Grapes, Lemons, and Sugar Canes,
wild, but no human Inhabitants—Resolve to lay up a Store of these Articles, to furnish me against the
wet Season—My Cat, which I suppose lost, returns with Kittens—I regulate my Diet, and shut myself up
for the wet Season—Sow my Grain, which comes to nothing; but I discover and remdy my error—Take
account of the course of the Weather.-++ +++... 0. e cece cece ec ee ee ceeeeseec seers aise sewciee eocseces 115

CHAPTER VIII

Make a second Tour through the Island—Catch a young Parrot, which I afterwards teach to speak—My
mode of sleeping at Night—Find the other side of the Island much more pleasant than mine, and covered
with Turtle and Sea-fowl—Catch a young Kid, which I tame—Return to my old Nabitation—Great plague
with my Harvest -----02:-ssceeeeee seer ce eeee teeter essesonrerees te Hi) “ctstoreretgs aiesiiae Pagel25

8





CONTENTS. 9



CHAPTER IX.

Lattempt to mould earthenware, and succeed—Description of my mode of baking—Begin to muke a Boat
—After it is finished, am unable to get it down to the water—Serious Reflections—My Ink and Biscuit
exhausted, and Clothes in a bad state—Contrive to muke a Dress of Sking,.--+.+04 esos -seeeeeeeee 133

CHAPTER X.

T succeed in getting a Canoe afloat, and set out on a Voyage in the Sixth year of my Reign, or Captivity—
Blown out to Sea—Reach the Shore with great difficulty—Fall asleep, and am awakened by a Voice call-
ing my name—Devise various schemes to tame Goats, and at lust succeed.------ seeeee ceeeeee eee 148

CHAPTER XI.

Description of my Figure—Also of my Dwelling and Enclosures—Dreadful alarm on seeing the Print of a
Man’s Foot on the Shore—Reflections—Take every possible measure of precaution..--++++eeeee.++- 159

CHAPTER XII.

I observe a Canoe out at Sea—Find on the Shore the remnant of a Feast of Cannibals—Horror of mind
thereon—Double arm myself—Terribly alarmed by 1 Goat—Discover a singular Cave, or Grotto, of which
I form my Magazine—My fears on account of the Savages begin to subside.--+++++sseeessseeeeeseP 171

CHAPTER XIII.

Description of my Situation in the Twenty-third year of my Residence—Discover Nine naked Savages round
a Fire on my side of the Island—My horror on beholding the dismal work they were about—I determine
on the Destruction of the next Party at all risks—A Ship lost off the Island—Go on board the Wreck,
which I discern to be Spanish—Procure a great variety of Articles from the Vesgel.-++++-+eeeee.-+6 184

CHAPTER XIV.

Reflections—An extraordinary Dream—Discover five Canoes of Savages on Shore—Observe from my station
two miserable Wretches dragged out of their Bouts to be devoured—One of them makes his Escape, and
runs directly towards me, pursued by two others—I take measures so as to destroy his Pursuers and save
his Life—Christen him by the Name of Friday, and he becomes a faithful and excellent Servant.- +++ 197

CHAPTER XV.

Ue is amazed at the effects of the Gun, and considers it an intelligent being—Begins to talk Englig)
cably—A Dialogue—I instruct him in the knowledge of Religion, and find him very apt—He ‘e: ribes
to me some white Men, who had come to his country, and still lived there.---++s+s00 seeseeseeeem 211

[am at great pains to instruct Friday respecting my abhorrence of the Cannibal practices of the mune
: iple-

CHAPTER XVI.

determine to go over to the Continent—Friday and I construct a Boat equal to carry twenty men—His
dexterity in managing her—Friday brings intelligence of three Canoes of Savages on Shore—Resolve to
go down upon them—Friday and I fire upon the Wretches, and save the life of a poor Spaniard—List of

the killed and wounded—Discover a poor Indian bound in one of the Canoes, who turns out to be Friday’s
Father.-----+-+-





Secesaisces 2 eitinia s.eis.eeleejel.incieisie sinnemeatclce s epaOry

CHAPTER XVII.

learn from the Spaniard that there were sixteen more of his Countrymen among the Savages—The Spa-
niard and Friday’s Father, well armed, sail on a Mission to the Continent—I discover an English Ship
lying at anchor off the Island—Her Boat comes on Shore with three Prisoners—The Crew straggle into
the Woods, their boat being aground—Discover myself to the Prisoners, who prove to be the Captain and
Mate of the Vessel, and a Passenger—Secure the Mutineers...+++++sesesseeseeecesee seeeeseees cee ot)

CHAPTER XVIII.

The Ship makes Signals for her Boat—On receiving no answer, she sends another Boat on Shore—Methods
by which we secure this Boat’s Crew, and recover the Ship..-++---sesessseees sees 2 £5!



CHAPTER XIX.
I take leave of the Island, and, after a long Voyage, arrive in England—Go down into Yorkshire, and find



oo AS





0 CONTENTS.



the greater part of my Family dead—Resolve to go to Lisbon for information respecting my Plantation
at the Brazils—Mect an old Friend there, by whose means I become rich—Set out for England overland
—Much annoyed by Wolves on the road.--++++.-sese0e 267





CHAPTER XX.

Strange Battle betwixt Friday and a Bear—Terrible engagement with a whole Army of Wolves—Arrivo
in England safely, and settle my affairs there—I marry and have a Family.-+++-++-++ seeeeeseeeee 280

PART II.

CHAPTER I.

Reflections-—Unsettled state of Mind, and Conversation with my Wife thereon—Purchase a Farm in the
County of Bedford—Lose my Wife—I determine to revisit my Island, and for that purpose settle all my Af-
fairs in England—Description of the Cargo I carried out with me—Save the Crew ofa Vessel burnt at Sea. 292

CHAPTER II.

Bteer for the West Indies—Distressing Account of a Bristol Ship, the Crew of which we save in a state of
Starvation—Arrive at my Island—Friday’s joy on discovering it—Affecting interview betwixt him and
his Father on landing—Narrative of the Occurrences on the Island during my Absence..---++-++++ 307

CHAPTER III.

Narrative continued—Insolence of three of the Englishmen to the Spaniards—They are disarmed and
brought to order—A great body of Savages land upon the Island—They turn out to be two adverse Nations
met there by chance—A bloody Battle betwixt them—Several of the vanquished Party secured by the
Spaniards. -+eeeeseeees cece e eee ceec cessor ceneees a seses

Sere ter OSS. eee enseele seeeseeeenses cae: BOE

CHAPTER IY.
Fresh broils betwixt the turbulent Englishmen and the Spaniards~The English make a Voyage to the
Mainland, and return in twenty-two Days—Particulars of their Voyage—Description of the Men and

Women they brought with them—The Colony ed by an unlucky accident to the Savages, who
invade the Island, but are defeated..- oe eee eee eenececaneee tonne




CHAPTER VY.

The Island is invaded by a formidable Fleet of Savages—A terrible Engagement, in which the Cannibals aro
utterly routed—Thirty-seven wretches, the survivors, are saved, and employed by my people as servants
—Description of Will Atkins’s ingenious contrivance for his accommodation.---+++++++++++ seeeeeees B56

CHAPTER VI.

T hold Conversations with the Spaniards, and learn the History of their situation among the Savages, from
which I relieved them—I inform the Colony for what purpose I am come, and what I mean to do for them
—Distribution of the Stores I brought with me—The Priest I saved at Sea solemnizes the Marriages of the
Sailors and Female Indians, who had hitherto lived together as Man and Wife.-++++esee+. eeseeee + 368

CHAPTER VII. 4
Sincere and worthy character of the Priest—Dialogue with Will Atkins and myself—Conversation betwixt
Atkins and his Indian Wife on the subject of Religion—Her Baptism—Settlement of the Commonwealth. 306

CHAPTER VILI.

{ entertain the prospect of converting the Indians—Aminble character of the Young Woman we saved in a
famished state at Sea—Her own relation of her sufferings from hunger—Sail from the Island for the Bra
zile—Encounter and rout a whole fleet of Savages—Death of Friday—Arrival at Brazil.----+- seeeee 409

CHAPTER IX.

T despatch a Number of additional Recruits, and a Quantity of extra Stores to the Island, and take my leave
of it for ever—I determine to go with the ee to the East Indies—Arrival at Madagascar—Dreadful Oo
currences there.- : ++ 420







bs CHAPTER X.
Difference with my Nephew on account of the Cruslties practised at Madagascar—Five men lost on the



=n

CONTENTS, ll



Arabian Shore, off the Guif of Persia—The Seamen refuse to sail, if I continua on board, in consequence
of which I am left on shore—Make a very advantageous trading Voyage in company with an English
Merchant, and purchase a vessel, which, it turns out, the Crew had mutinied and run away with: - 435

CHAPTER XI.

Make a trading Voyage in this Ship—Put into the River Cambodia—Am warned of my Danger by a Coun-
tryman, in consequence of which we set sail, and are pursued—Great difficulty in making our Escape. 446

CHAPTER XII.

Obliged to come to anchor on a Savage Coast, to repair our Ship—We are attacked by the Natives, whom our
Carpenter disperses by a whimsical contrivance—Scrious Reflections upon our disagreeable Situation. 453

CHAPTER XIII.

Wo arrive in China in safety—Dispose of the Ship—Description of the Inhabitants—Arrive at Pekin, and
find an opportunity of returning to Burope-+----++sesesseeeseceeeereseceeeceeeecreoeenccsseesess 466

CHAPTER XIV.

Set out by the Caravan—Account of the valuable Effects we took with us—Farther description of the In
terior of China—Pass the great Wall—Attacked by Tartars, who are dispersed by the Resolution of a
Soots Merchant—The old Pilot saves my Life—We are again attacked, and defeat the Tartars.------- 479

CHAPTER XY.

Further Account of our Journey—Description of an Idol, which we destroy—Great danger we incur thereby
—Avceount of our Travels through Muscovy..-+++++++++ a eccccrce cece ccecec scenes vesccenseesses 489

CHAPTER XVI.

Conversations with a Russian Grandee—Set out on my Journey Homewards—Harassed by Kalmucks on
the Road—Arrival at Archangel—Sail from thence, and arrive safely in England..-++++..---- seseee 505

APPENDIX—Lire AND ADVENTURES OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK.-- «+++





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE
2 | Crusoe Sleeping in his Boat

7 | Friday Humble...
34 | Crusoe and Friday . i
35 | Crusoe und Friday out Shooting.
41 | Crusoe and Friday on the Hill
44 | Discovering the Mutincers.
49 | Crusoe very IIl......
50 | Friday and the Bear.
75 | Crusoe Married.....
96 | Crusoe Welcomed by the Spaniard
97 | The Spaniard Introducing Crusoe.
112 | Firing the Hut ............
118 | The Vagrants in the Wood.
121 | Fight with the Cannibals..
122 | Marrying the Three Couples
133 | Priest and Negro Woman.
135 | Firing the Town
153 | Tarring the Blacks.......cccccssseoeee
+ 158 | Introduced to a Chinese Merchant












Daniel De Foe, (Portrait).
Among the Breakers...







Our Hero...



Robinson Cruso
Crusoe and Bob aboard Ship .
The Storm
Attack of the Sallee Rover.
Crusoe a Slave... aonee
Crusoe Loading his Raft
Crusoe Writing his Journal .
Crusoe Discovers the Barley
Crusoe ill, reading the Bible.
Crusoe in his Bower..... se.
Crusoe’s Cat Family
Crusoe Making Baskets
Teaching the Parrot to talk
Crusoe Making a Coat
Crusoe Startled by Hearing a Voice ..
Crusoe at Dinner.......... eee
Crusoe Terrified by Seeing a Footprint
Crusoe in his Fort... wssccosrseees































186









MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.

Dantex For (for the Dr was prefixed to his name by himself, at a late period
in life) was the son of James Foe, a citizen of London, who carried on the busi-
ness of a butcher, in St. Giles’s, Cripplegate; but having “got a good estate by
merchandise, left off his trade” several years before his death. He was “a
wise and grave man,” sincerely attached to the Presbyterian form of worship;
and when his pastor, the Rev. Samuel Annesley, LL. D., was ejected from
the parish of Cripplegate by the Act of Uniformity, in 1662, he followed him,
and worshipped at the chapel in Bishopsgate for many years.

His son DAnrex was born in 1661, the year following the Restoration; and
after receiving a competent “house education,” and as far as “the free-school
generally goes,” about the age of fourteen he was sent to a dissenting academy
at Newington Green, then superintended by the Rey. Charles Morton, who
was afterwards pastor of a church in Charlestown, Mass., and vice-president of
Harvard College. Here he received as much of a collegiate education as could
be obtained by a dissenter at this period, perfecting his acquaintance with lan-
guages, natural philosophy, logic, geography, and history; and, under the
special direction of his tutor, going through a complete course of theology.
In one of his “ Reviews,” in 1705, he says, ‘I owe this justice to my ancient
father, still living, and in whose behalf I freely testify, that if I am a block-
head, it was nobody’s fault but my own, he having spared nothing in my
education.”

It was the intention of his parents that he should become a Presbyterian
minister, and his education was adapted to that profession. The cause of his
abandoning it has been a matter of some speculation, but the reason may pro-
bably be gathered from the peculiar character of the times. He completed
his academical career in the year when Monmouth had just returned from the
slaughter of the Scottish Covenanters at Bothwell-bridge, and when “it was
not safe for a dissenting minister to be seen in the streets of London,’ the
liberties of England being prostrate before the court and high-church party;
and need we wonder that a person of his ardent temperament should be drawn
aside into the religio-political contests of the times? He himself merely
says, “It was my disaster first to be set apart for, and then to be set apart
from, the honour of that sacred employ.”

At the age of twenty-one, he began that career of authorship which he con-

tinued unremittingly for the s~ace of half a century. His first attempt is a
12



MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 13



small quarto volume of thirty-four pages, with the ridiculous title of “Speculum
Crape-Gownorum ; or a Looking-Glass for the Young Academicks, new Foyl’d.
With Reflections on some of the late high-flown Sermons: to which is added,
An Essay towards a Sermon of the newest Fashion. By a Guide to the In-
feriour Clergie. Ridentem dicere Verum Quis Vetat? London: Printed for
E. Rydal. 1682.’’ It was intended, says De Foe, “as a banter upon Sir
Roger L’Estrange’s Guide to the Inferior Clergy,” and seems to have produced
a much greater effect than the nature of the performance warranted. As a
specimen, we will selecta passage from the “Essay towards a Sermon of the
newest Fashion.” ‘Were I now to preach before a great magistrate that had
the power in his hands, I would say,—My Lord, you bear not the sword in
vain. Let them [the dissenters] be fined and imprisoned, nay hanged, my
Lord. Now, if my Lord should say, Do you endeavour to convince them of
their errors by sound doctrine and good example of life. Then would I say,—-
No, my Lord, they will never be convinced by us; for we have not wit nor
learning enough to do it; neither can we take so much pains. ’Tis easier to
talk an hour about state-affairs and make satires against the fanaticks than to
preach convincing and sound doctrine. The fanaticks, therefore, must be con-
futed by bolts and shackles; by fines and imprisonments; by excommunica-
tions and exterminations; and therefore, pray, my Lord, let ’em be scourged
out of the temple; let ’em be whipped out of the nation.”

In 1683, he produced “A Treatise against the Turks.” The Turks were at
this time threatening the existence of the Austrian empire; and on account
of the persecutions of the Protestants by that power, their irruption was
looked upon with complacency by many of the dissenters in England, and the
design of this work was to counteract that feeling.

In February, 1685, James II. ascended the throne, and immediately mani-
fested his attachment to Popery, and his intention of governing in defiance of
the laws. At first he was supported by the high-church party, and the dis-
senters seeing no prospect of being delivered from the shackles in which for the
last twenty-five years they had been held, prepared to throw off his authority.
In midsummer of this year, accordingly, the kingdom was invaded by the Duke
of Monmouth, a natural son of Charles II., and De Foe joined his standard.
After Monmouth’s defeat, he had the good fortune to escape; but in after-
years he looked back upon his connection with this affair with satisfaction.

In 1686, he became an agent for the sale of hosiery, and had his establish-
ment in Freeman’s Court, Cornhill, London; and judging it expedient to link
himself more closely with his fellow-citizens, he claimed his freedom by birth,
and was admitted a liveryman of London. In the chamberlain’s book his name
is written Daniel Foe. :

In the latter part of this reign, the dissenters were cofirted by the king ana
by the high-church party, who were about to proceed to open hostilities against
each other. In this aspect of affairs De Foe published two pamphlets, in
which he satirizes the altered tone of the churchmen, condemns the power

+.







14 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



f dispensing with the laws, assumed by King James, and warns the dissenters
against being deceived by a pretended toleration, when his real object was to
force a religion prohibited by law upon his subjects.

He who had drawn his sword in the cause of Monmouth was not backward
in the cause of William. On receiving intelligence of his landing, he imme-
diately set out to meet him, and got as far as Henley (thirty-five miles west
of London), which “the Prince of Orange, with the second line of the army,
entered that very afternoon.” Being introduced to the Prince, he formed an
attachment to him which endured till the close of his life. At this period he
seems to have been in prosperous circumstances, having a country-house at
Tooting, in Surrey, at the same time that he carried on the hose-agency in
Cornhill. And when the citizens of London invited King William to a sump-
tuous banquet in Guildhall, and formed a procession to conduct him thither,
“among those troopers,” says Oldmixon, “was Daniel Foe, at that time a
hosier in Freeman’s Yard, Cornhill.”

Though not inattentive to the political movements of this period, he was
more particularly occupied in trade, and that in a very extensive way. In
prosecuting his business he visited Spain, Portugal, the Low Countries, and
France; but partly from his own imprudence, the circumstances of the times,
and the knavery of others, he became bankrupt in 1692, and, to avoid incar-
ceration, concealed himself till he could obtain a settlement with -his creditors.
For some time he seems to have lived in concealment at Bristol, but so high a
sense of his honour was entertained by his creditors, that they soon agreed
to a composition, and accepted his personal security for the amount. This
confidence he more than justified, and, in 1705, he tells us, “that with a
numerous family and no help but his own industry, he had forced his way with
undiscouraged diligence through a sea of misfortunes, and reduced his debts,
exclusive of composition, from seventeen thousand to less than five thousand
pounds.” In harmony with his own example, in the third volume of his
Review he gives the following advice to others: ‘Never think yourselves dis-
charged in conscience, though you may be discharged in law. The obligation
of an honest mind can never dic. No title of honour, no recorded merit, no
mark of distinction can exceed the lasting appellation, ‘an honest man.’ He
that lies buried under such an epitaph has more said of him than volumes of
history can contain. The payment of debts, after fair discharges, is the clearest
title to such a character that I know; and how any man can begin again, and
hope for a blessing from Heaven, or favour from man, without such a resolu-
tion, I know not.” To the honour of De Foe, it ought also to be mentioned,
that the position in which he was placed forcibly directed his attention to tue
law of debtor and creditor, and “in a day when he could be heard,” he
directed the attentiotf of the legislature to several very flagrant abuses, which
were at that time remedied, though many of his suggestions are only being
adopted at the present time. (Review, ili. 75.)

During the two years (1692-8) which were occupied in obtaining a scttle-



:
;
;





MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR 15



ment of his affairs, while in retirement, he was engaged in writing his
“ Essay upon Projects,” the first of his works which has obtained a permanent
place in our literature. The projects are of a varied character, embracing the
subject of banks, road-making, bankruptcy, friendly societies, savings’ banks,
asylums for the insane, education, profane swearing, military academies, sea-
men’s register, education of females, &c. His projects are marked by good
sense, and much of the work is written in a very pleasing and forcible style.
Many of his proposals have since been tested by experience, and from a copy
of his works, which Dr. Franklin found in his father’s library, he says, ‘I
might receive some impressions that have since influenced the principal events
of my life.” It was not published till 1697.

“Misfortunes in business having unhinged me from matters of trade,” says
De Foe, ‘it was about the year 1694 when I was invited by some merchants,
with whom I had corresponded abroad, and some also at home, to settle at
Cadiz, in Spain; and that with the offers of very good commissions. But
Providence, which had other work for me to do, placed a secret aversion in my
mind to quitting England upon any account, and made me refuse the best
offers of that kind. . . . Sometime after this, I was, without the least appli-
cation of mine, and being then seventy miles from London, sent for to be
accountant to the commissioners of the glass duty, in which service I continued
to the determination of the commission,” 1699.

About this time he became secretary to the pantile works at Tilbury, in
Essex, which works, he says, in his Review for March, 1705, ‘before violence,
injury, and barbarous treatment demolished hima and his undertaking, employed
a hundred poor people in making pantiles in England, a manufacture always
bought*in Holland: and thus he pursued this principle with his utmost zeal
for the good of England: and those gentlemen who so eagerly prosecuted him
for saying what all the world since owns to be true, and which he has since a
hundred times offered to prove, were particularly serviceable to the nation, in
turning that hundred of poor people and their families a-begging for work,
besides three thousand pounds damage to the author of this, which he has paid
for this little experience.”

From 1697 to 1701 he entered warmly into the discussion of political mat-
ters then agitated, and twelve pamphlets are extant written in this period, but
in 1701 he produced “The True-Born Englishman,” in rhyme, a work which
added much to his celebrity. He thus accounts for the origin of the poem.
“During this time, there came out a vile abhorred pamphlet, in very ill verse,
written by one Mr. Tutchin, and called ‘The Foreigners;’ in which the author
fell personally upon the king himself, and then upon the Dutch nation; and after
having reproached his majesty with crimes that his worst enemies could not
think of without horror, he sums up all in the odious name of Foreigner.
This filled me with a kind of rage against the book, andygave birth to a trifle
which I never could hope should have met with so general an acceptation as it
did.” As a specimen, a few lines upon the folly of indulging in the pride of
ancestry may be given:





16 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



These are the heroes that despise the Dutch,

And rail at new-come foreignei? so much;

Forgetting that themselves are all derived

From the most scoundrel race that ever lived;

A horrid crowd of rambling thieves and drones,

Who ransack’d kingdoms and dispeopled towns

The Pict and painted Briton, treach’rous Scot,

By hunger, theft, and rapine hither brought;

Norwegian pirates, buccaneering Danes,

Whose red-hair’d offspring everywhere remains;

Who, join’d with Norman-French compound the breed,
_ From whence your True-Born Englishmen proceed.

And lest, by length of time, it be pretended

The climate may the modern race have mended,

Wise Providence, to keep us where we are,

Mixes us daily with exceeding care.”

The first edition was comprised in sixty pages, quarto; and such was ‘ts
popularity, that in four years the author had printed nine editions, the copies
of which he sold at a shilling each, while he calculated that not less than eighty
thousand copies of pirated editions, sold at from sixpence to a penny, were
disposed of in the streets of London. The loss he sustained by this conduct
must have been considerable. He tells us, that “had he been allowed to enjoy
the profit of his own labour, he had gained above a thousand pounds.” This
poem having met the eye of King William, inspired him with the desire to
become acquainted with the author; he was accordingly presented to him,
and was ever after cordially received by him and his consort, and employed in
various secret services.

In his “ Appeal to Honour and Justice,” in 1715, he says, “How this poem
was the occasion of my being known to his majesty; how I was aftérwards
received by him; how employed; and how, above my capacity of deserving,
rewarded, is no part of the present case, and it is only mentioned here, as I
take all occasions to do, for the expressing the honour I ever preserved for the
immortal and glorious memory of that greatest and best of princes, and whom
it was my honour and advantage to call master as well as sovereign; whose
goodness to me I never forgot, neither can forget; and whose memory I
never patiently heard abused, nor ever can do so; and who, had he lived,
would never have suffered ime to be treated as I have been in the world.”

Between the publication of “The True-Born Englishman” and the death of
his patron, in March 1702, he published ten pamphlets, in one of which,
“Reasons against a War with France,” notwithstanding his passionate attach-
ment to William, he ventured, on patriotic grounds, to oppose the views of the
court. °

The life and labours of De Foe are so interwoven with the political history of
his country, that the most satisfactory way of considering his life is by dividing
it into periods, commensurate with the reigns in which he flourished. We
have now arrived at the accession of Queen Anne. She had been educated
by Compton bishop of London, and immediately threw all the influence of the



MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 17



court into the tory or high-church party. ‘The heat and fury of the clergy
went to that height (says De Foe) that even it became ludicrous, and attended
with all the little excesses which a person elevated beyond the government of
himself by some sudden joy is usually subject to. And, as a known author
remarks, that upon the restoration of King Charles II., the excesses and trans-
ports of the clergy and people ran out into revels, may-poles, and all manner
of extravagancies; so at this time, there were more may-poles set up in one
year in England than had been in twenty years before. Ballads for the church
was another expression of their zeal, wherein generally the chorus or burden
of the song was, ‘Down with the Presbyterians.’ And to such a height were
things brought, that the dissenters began to be insulted in every place; their
mecting-houses and assemblies assaulted by the mobs; and even their ministers
and preachers were scarce admitted to pass the streets.” Pamphlets inveigh-
ing against the dissenters were hawked about the streets, and the pulpits
especially resounded with the most violent tirades, and the lenity of the queen
in extending to them toleration was unscrupulously condemned. Familiar with
the sentiments and language of the high-church party, De Foe collected them
into a three-sheet pamphlet, entitled “‘The Shortest Way with the Dissenters;
or, Proposals for the Establishment of the Church.”

“When the book first appeared in the world,” says he, “and before those
high-flown gentlemen knew its author; whilst the piece in its outward. figure
tooked so natural, and was so like a brat of their own begetting, that, like two
apples, they could not know them asunder, the author’s true design in the
writing it had its immediate effect. The gentlemen of the high-church imme-
diately fell in with the project. Nothing could have been more grateful to
them than arguments to prove the necessity of ruining the dissenters, and
removing those obstructions to the church’s glory out of the way. We have
innumerable testimonies of the pleasure with which the party embraced the
proposal of sending all the dissenting ministers to the gallows and the galleys;
of having all their meeting-houses demolished ; and being let loose upon the
people to plunder and destroy them. The soberer churchmen, whose princi-
ples were founded on charity, and who had their eye upon the laws and con-
stitution of their country, as that to which their own liberties were annexed,
though they still believed the book to be written by a high-churchman, yet
openly exclaimed against the proposal, condemned the warmth that appeared
in the clergy against their brethren, and openly professed that such a man as
Sacheverell and his brethren would blow up the foundations of the church.
But either side had scarce time to discover their sentiments, when the book
uppeared to have been written by a dissenter; that it was designed in derision
of the standard held up by Sacheverell and others; that it was a. gatire upon
the fury of the churchmen, and a plot to make the rest discover tebmselves.
Nothing was more strange than to see the effect upcn the whole nation which
this little book, 2 contemptible pamphlet of but three sheets of paper, had,
und in so short a time too. The most forward, hot and furious, as well among

the clergy as others, blushed when they reflected how far they had applauded:
2



ai







18 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



the book; raged that such an abuse should be put upon the church; and as
they were obliged to damn the book, so they were strangely hampered between
the doing so, and pursuing their rage at the dissenters. The greater part, the
better to qualify themselves to condemn the author, came earnestly in to con-
demn the principle ; for it was impossible to do one without the other. They
laboured incessantly, both in print and in pulpit, to prove that this was a hor-
rible slander upon the church. But this still answered the author’s end the
more; for they could never clear the church of the slander, without openly
condemning the practice; nor eould they possibly condemn tae practice, with-
out censuring those clergymen who had gone such a length already as to say
the same thing in print. Nor could all their rage at the author of that book
contribute any thing to clear them, but still made the better side the worse.
It was plain they had owned the doctrine, had preached up the necessity of
expelling and rooting out the dissenters in their sermons and printed pamph-
lets; that it was evident they had applauded the book itself, till they knew the
author; and there was no other way to prevent the odium falling on the whole
body of the Church of England, but by giving up the authors of these mad
principles, and openly professing moderate principles themselves.

“Some people have blamed the author of ‘The Shortest Way,’ for that he
did not quote either in the margin, or otherwise, the sermon of Sacheverell
aforesaid, or such other authors from whom his notions were drawn, which
would have justified him in what he had suggested. But these men do not
see the design of the book at all, or the effect it had on the people it pointed
at. It is true, this had prevented the fate of the man, but it had, at the same
time, taken off the edge of the book; and that which now cut the throat of a
whole party, would not then have given the least wound. The case the book
pointed at, was to speak in the first person of the party, and then, thercby,
not only speak their language, but make them acknowledge it to be theirs;
which they did so openly, that it confounded all their attempts afterwards to
deny it, and to call it a scandal thrown upon them by another.”

An attentive examination of the work might have excited the suspicion of
the arguments being ironical, but the temper of parties was too much excited
to consider calmly. Even by his dissenting brethren it was believed to be a
production of the high-church party; and the wit that practised the deception
had some difficulty in being forgiven. But the anger of the high-church men,
when they discovered the author, was unbounded, and as the party was in power,
it was resolved to institute a state prosecution against him. To further this
prosecution, a formal complaint was made in the House of Commons against
the author, and upon some of the obnoxious passages being read, it was resolved,
“that the book, being full of false and scandalous reflections on this parlia-
ment, be burnt by the hands of the common hangman, to-morrow, in New
Palace Yard.” A proclamation offering a reward of 507. was at the same time
offered for the discovery of the author, and advertised in the London Gazette
for January 10, 1702-3. For the sake of the description of his person it is
herve given



MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 19





“Whereas, Daniel De Foe, alias De Fooe, is charged with writing a scanda-
lous and seditious pamphlet, intitled ‘The Shortest Way with the Dissenters.’
He is a middle-sized, spare man, about forty years old, of a brown complexion,
and dark-brown coloured hair, but wears a wig; a hooked nose, a sharp chin,
gray eyes, and a large mole near his mouth: was born in London, and for
many years was a hose-factor in Freeman’s Yard, Cornhill; and now is owner
of the brick and pantile works near Tilbury Fort, in Essex : whoever shall dis-
cover the said Daniel De Foe to one of her majesty’s justices of the peace, so
that he may be apprehended, shall have a reward of 50/. which her majesty has
ordered immediately to be paid upon such discovery.”

The printer and bookseller being now taken into custody, to shield them
from prosecution, De Foe came forth from bis retreat, and gave himself up to
the government. He was indicted at the Old Bailey sessions, Feb. 24, 1703, and
stood his trial in July following. Diffident of success, if he should have en-
tered upon his defence, his prosecutors tampered with his counsel, who held
out to him hopes of pardon, and advised him to plead guilty and throw himself
upon the mercy of the queen. Much to his regret afterwards, he complied
with the advice, and received a sentence infamous for its severity, while the
avenues to royal mercy for two years were vigilantly shut against him. He
wus sentenced to pay a fine of 200 marks to the queen; stand three times in
the pillory; be imprisoned during the queen’s pleasure; and find sureties for
his good behaviour for seven years.

On the 29th of July he stood in the pillory before the Royal Exchange, in
Cornhill; on the 80th near the Conduit in Cheapside; and on the 31st at
Temple Bar. But to his conduct men could attribute no guilt, and this
mark of degradation and infamy was deprived of all its sting. He was con-
ducted to the pillory by thousands, as to a chair of state; the pillory itself was
hung with garlands; and he himself tells that “those who were expected to
treat him ill, on the contrary pitied him, and wished those who set him there to
be placed in his room, and expressed their affections by loud shouts and acclama-
tions, when he was taken down.”’ All the disgrace of the punishment rebound-
ed upon his persecutors; and while his enemies were preparing the instrument
for his disgrace, he was composing a hymn of triumph. On the very day on
which he appeared there, he published his “Hymn to the Pillory,” in which,
with the keenest satire, he set their enmity at defiance.

“Thou art no shame to truth and honesty,
Nor is the character of such defaced by thee,
Who suffers by oppressive injury.

Shame, like the exhalations of the sun,
Falls back where first the motion was begun:

And he who for no crime shall on thy brows appear,
Bears less r¢proach than they who placed him thers.”
And concludes by invoking the pillory to speak, and
“Tell them the men who placed him here
Are scandals to the times,

Are at a loss to find his guilt,
And cun’t commit hie crimes.”



20 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR



Before his imprisonment De Foe kept his carriage, and lived in an easy,
comfortable style; but being no longer able to attend to the pantile works, from
which he derived his support, they were given up, the capital invested in them
lost, and himself and a wife and six children thrown for their support upon
the products of his pen. Thus burdened, and made the companion of erimi-
nals, his fortitude did not forsake him: conscious of his integrity, and of the
righteousness of the cause for which he suffered, he cast himself upon the wis-
dom and goodness of that Providence which had hitherto sustained him, and
rising sup?rior to disgrace felt and said,

“Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage ;

Minds innocent and quiet take

That for a hermitage.”—Hymn to the Pillory,

There can be little doubt that he associated occasionally with the prisoners,
and communicated those moral and religious instructions which he was so well
fitted to give. It is also probable that many of the desperate characters of his
novels were suggested by the companious he had here; and that the prison be-
game ax school of discipline, in which his mind was familiarized to degradation
and distress. But hitherto his writings had been devoted to politics, or those
plans by which the external condition of society might be ameliorated, and he
did not allow his imprisonment to divert him from his course. Twenty-two
pamphlets were written by him while in prison; and a pirated edition of his
works having been published, he gave the world “A True Collection of the
Writings of the Author of ‘The True-Born Englishman,’ corrected by him-
self.” It contains twenty-two pieces, and in some copies there is the following
advertisement :—

“Whereas there is a spurious collection of the writings of Mr. De Foe, author
of ‘The Tree-Born Hnglishman,’ which contain several things not writ by the
said author, and those that are full of errors, mistakes, and omissions, which
invert the sense and design of the author, This is to give notice that the gen-
uine collection, price six shillings, is corrected by himself, with additions
never before printed, hath the author’s picture before it, curiously engraved
on copper by Mr. Vandergucht; and contains more than double the number
of tracts inserted in the said spurious collection.”

This portrait was from a painting by Taverner, and represents the author in
such a dress as we may suppose he wore when he attended the levees of Wil-
liam and Mary. It is generally admitted to be the best likeness extant, and a
beautiful copy of it, engraved on wood by Clarkson, is prefixed to this edition.

The most important of the works which he projected in Newgate was “The
Review,” the first number of which was issued on Saturday, February 19,
1704, and continued weekly till the ninth number, when it was published twice
a week, on the Tuesdays and Saturdays. It consisted at first of eight quarto
pages, and was sold at the low price of one penny, but with the fifth num.
ber it was reduced to half a sheet, “the publishers of this paper. honestly
declaring that while they make it a whole sheet they get nothing by it;





and though the auihor is free to give his labours for God’s sake, they don’t
find it for their convenience to give their paper and print away.” The nine
quarto volumes of this work were solely written by himself, and continucd till
May, 1718, when it was finally abandoned. It was begun when its author was
in Newgate, and terminated when he was imprisoned again, under a shameful
prosecution. It would be impossible in our limits to convey any idea of the
variety of the contents of this work. The general tendency and design of the
articles were to subdue the prejudices of his countrymen, and give them juster
ideas of foreigners and foreign nations than they generally entertained—to give
information concerning trade, politics, and the general occurrences of the week
to put down immoral practices, such as duelling and the slave-trade—with
the conversation of a “Scandal Club,” upon matters of all kinds; and the
most thankless of all undertakings, to correct the blunders of the contempo-
rary press. At the close of the first year, he proposed to discontinue it; but
several who were interested in it, being desirous to have it continued, he con-
sented to oblige them if they would provide for the charges of the press,
“which he was sorry he was not in a condition to oblige them with also.”

The Review was doubtless the most popular periodical of the time, and with
the fifth volume it began to be reprinted in Edinburgh; but the author seems
never to have received much pecuniary benefit from it, and the labour he be-
stowed upon it must be solely attributed to his zeal for the public welfare. In
the seventh volume, he says: “Though I have the misfortune to amass infinite
enemies, and not at all to oblige even the men I serve, yet I defy the world to
prove I have directly or indirectly gained or received a single shilling, or the
value of it, by the sale of this paper for now almost four years; and honest
Mr. Morphew is able to detect me, if I speak false.”

The intemperate conduct of the Tory party, in 1704, brought on a period of
reaction. ‘The queen,” says De Foe, “though willing to favour the high-
church party, did not thereby design the ruin of those she did not employ, was
soon alarmed at their wild conduct, and turned them out, adhering to the
moderate counsels of those who better understood or more faithfully pursued
her majesty’s and the country’s interest.” A new ministry was formed, in
which Lord Godolphin, the Duke of Marlborough, and Mr. Harley were lead-
ing members ; the latter of whom, sensible of the influence so popular a writer
as De Foe would exert, opened a negotiation with him, immediately upon
coming into office. In his “Appeal to Honour and Justice,” it is thus
noticed :—

“While I lay friendless and distressed in the prison of Newgate, my family
ruined, and myself without hope of deliverance, a message was brought me
from a person of honour [Mr. Harley], who, till that time, I had never had
the least acquaintance with, or knowledge of, other than by fame, or by sight,
as we know men of quality by seeing them on public occasions. I gave no
present answer to the person who brought it, having not duly weighed the
import of the message. The message was by word of mouth thus:—‘ Pray,
ask that gentleman what I can do for him?’ But in return to this kind and

MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 21
4





a

ieee

v





92 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



generous message, I immediately took my pen and ink, and wrote the story
of the blind man in the Gospel, who followed our Saviour, and to whom our
blessed Lord put the question, ‘What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?’
Who, as if he had made it strange that such a question should be asked, or as
if he had said that I am blind, and yet ask me what thou shalt do for me?
My answer is plain in my misery, ‘Lord, that I may receive my sight?

‘I needed not to make the application. And from this time, although 1
lay four months in prison after this, and heard no more of it, yet from this
time, as I learned afterwards, this noble person made it his business to have
my case represented to her majesty, and methods taken for my deliverance.
f mention this part, because Iam no more to forget the obligation upon me to
the queen, than to my first benefactor.

“When her majesty came to have the truth of the case laid before her, I
soon felt the effects of her royal goodness and compassion. And first, her
majesty declared, that she left all that matter to a certain person [the Earl of
Nottingham], and did not think he would have used me in such a manner.
Probably these words may seem imaginary to some, and the speaking them to
be of no value, and so they would have been, had they not been followed with
further and more convincing proofs of what they imported, which were these,
that her majesty was pleased particularly to inquire into my circumstances and
family, and by my Lord-treasurer Godolphin to send a considerable supply to
my wife and family, and to send to me the prison-moncy to pay my fine and
the expenses of my discharge.

“ Being delivered from the distress I was in, her majesty, who was not satis-
fied to do me good by a single act of her bounty, had the goodness to think
of taking me into her service, and I had the honour to be employed in several
honourable, though secret services, by the interposition of my first benefactor,
who then appeared as a member in the public administration.”

Upon his release, in August, 1704, he retired to Bury St. Edmunds, “a town
famed for its pleasant situation and wholesome air, the Montpellier of Suffolk,
and perhaps of England; famous also for the number of gentry who reside in
the vicinity, and for the polite and agreeable conversation of the company
resorting there.”

De Foe was no sooner at liberty than it was rumoured that he had effected
an escape, and that warrants were issued for his apprehension; a mischievous
hoax was got up to annoy him; “his life threatened by bullying letters; his
ereditors roused to a general prosecution of him for debts, though under former
treaties and agreements, as if he was more able to discharge them now, reduced
by a known disaster, and ruined by a public storm, than before, when in pros-
perous circumstances, he was clearing himself of everybody, and all waited with
patience, being themselves satisfied; uow his morals were assaulted by impo-
tent and groundless slanders ; his principles cried down by envious friends as
well as malicious enemies. His endeavours for the public advantage prove
none to himself; his family and fortunes sink under his constant attempts for
the country’s welfare.—I have been told that ’tis no wonder all the threaten-







MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 93





ings, sham actions, and malicious prosecutions I speak of, are practised upon
me, since I am pushing at a party daily in lampoons, ballads, and clandestine
scandals; and that I must expect no other till I lay down this paper and all

other scribbles of such a nature... .. I have frequently answered this, as
to all the papers cried about in my name, assuring the world they have none
of them been wrote byme..... As to laying down the pen, or discontinuing

the subject I am upon, though I claim a privilege to be judge when I ought
to go backward or forward, yet to answer the proposal as to a cessation of pen
and ink debates, I shall make them a fair offer, which he that gives himself
the trouble to move me in it may make use of to the other party. Whenever
he will demonstrate they are inclined to peace, whenever the high-church party
will cease tacking of bills, invading the toleration, raising ecclesiastical alarms
against the dissenters and low-church ; will cease preaching up division, perse-
cution, and ruin of their protestant brethren; when all the crowd of high-
church advocates, Rehearsers, Observers, Leflectors, Whippers, Drivers [names
of periodicals and signatures of writers of that period] will declare a truce ;—
when these conditions may be observed I fairly promise to be so far a contri-
butor to the public peace, as to lay this [the Review] down, and turn the paper
to the innocent discourses of trade and the matters of history, first proposed.
Indeed, I must do so of course; for the peace will be then made, the end
answered, and consequently the argument useless.”

Such was De Foe’s popularity at this time, that he had to warn the publie
that printers, to make their pamphlets sell, affixed his name to things he “had
no concern in, erying them about the streets as mine ; nay, and at last are come
to that height of injury as to print my name to every scandalous trifle. . . .
I entreat my friends once for all, that whenever they meet with a penny or half-
penny paper, sold or cried about in the streets, they would conclude them not
mine. I never write penny papers, this excepted [the Review], nor ever shall,
unless my name is publicly set to them.”

In two years of comparative retirement, during a portion of which he
was compelled entirely to cease from labour on account of severe affliction,
upwards of thirty very considerable works proceeded from his pen, in addition
to the Review; now issued three times a week He also published the second
volume of his collected writings. It would be impossible to give even the
title-pages of these works here, but two of the opinions, in his “Giving Alms
no Charity,” are so pointed that we cannot avoid quoting them.

On vagrancy he says:—‘“No man that has limbs and his senses need beg;
and those that have not ought to be put in a condition not to want it, so that
begging is a mere scandal in the general. In the able, ’tis a scandal upon their
industry; and in the impotent, ’tis a scandal upon the country.”

His theory of population differs widely from the popular Malthusian theory
of the English political economists of the present day, and both in language
and sentiment corresponds with the principles so ably expounded by our fellow-
citizen, Henry C. Carey. “TI cannot but note that the glory, the strength, the
riches, the trade and all that is valuable in a nation as to its figure in the



24 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



world depends upon the number of its people, be they never so mean or poor.
The consumption of manufactures increases the manufacturers; the number
of manufacturers increases the consumption; provisions are consumed to feed
them, land improved, and more hands employed to furnish provisions. All the
wealth of the nation, and all the trade, is produced by numbers of people.”

In this period also he gave the first specimen of those inventive powers which
he exercised so successfully at a later period of life, in “A True Relation of
the Apparition of one Mrs. Veal, the next day after her death, to one Mrs.
Bargrave, at Canterbury, the 8th of September, 1705: which Apparition
recommends the Perusal of Drelincourt’s Book of Consolations against the
Fear of Death.” Being in company with the publisher of Drelincourt, who
complained of the dulness of the sale of the book, De Foe asked if the author
had blended aught of the supernatural in his work? The bookseller answered
in the negative. De Foe replied, “If you wish your book to sell, I will put you
in the way of it,” and immediately set about composing the story of the appa-
rition. The success was complete. It soon passed through forty editions; and
the recommendation of the ghost has been attended to by half the families in
England.

Sir Walter Scott, in illustrating the peculiar powers of De Foe in investing
fiction with all the tokens of reality, has entered into a particular analysis of
this story; and concludes, “that De Foe has put in foree within those few
pages, peculiar specimens of his art of recommending the most improbable
narrative by his specious and serious mode of telling it. Whoever will read
it as told by De Foe himself, will agree that could the thing have happened in
reality, soit would have been told. In short, the whole is so distinctly cir-
cumstantial, that were it not for the impossibility, or extreme improbability at
least, of such an occurrence, the evidence could not but support the story.”

In 1705, De Foe “had the honour to be employed in several honourable
though sceret services, in which he had run as much risk of his life as a gre
nadier upon the countersearp,” the particulars of which have not transpired,
but there is sufficient evidence that he executed them to the satisfaction of
Mr. Harley; and he received “an appointment,” probably a sinecure one, for
his services. He was absent from England about two months.

From 1706 to 1711, the attention of De Foe was principally directed to the
‘re at Glencoe, and by the



affairs of Scotland. Exasperated by the mas
manner in which the English government had treated their colony on the
Tsthmus of Darien, the Scottish parliament threatened to dissent from England
in the matter of the succession, unless there should be a free trade between the
two countries, and their affairs more thoroughly secured from English influence.
The English ministers then saw that it would be necessary to incorporate that
country with England, to prevent the Pretender from gaining the Scottish
crown; and exerted themselves so effectually in the Scottish parliament, that
an act was passed enabling the queen to nominate commissioners for the arrange-
ment of a union. Thirty commissioners were accordingly nominated on each
side; and though, with ‘ew excepticas, they were so friendly to the succession





MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 25



of the Hanoverian family and to the measures of the court, that no opposition
was expected from them; yet such was the unpopularity of the act, that it
was thought unsafe to venture upon it without using some means tc soften the
national prejudices. The paltry trade that Scotland even at this time carried
on was beheld by Englishmen with envy; they were annoyed at the wealth
of many of the Scotsmen who were settled among them, and felt it as so much
taken from themselves, instead of profiting by the example of industry, per-
severance, and economy they had sct them; and they spurned at union with a
beggarly country which could only burden them with its support. In Scotland
the opposition to the union was almost universal: they beheld in it the extine-
tion of their nation; and that peacefully if not treacherously accomplished
which England had for centuries vainly attempted to do by force. Especially
they feared for the safety of that church which they had so fondly cherished,
and which had tended so strongly to mould the national character. In these
circumstances Harley cast his eye upon De Foe, as one eminently qualified and
able to forward the measure. In England he was one of the most popular
writers: and being a Presbyterian and opposed to the prelatic party, he caleu-
lated that he would be favourably received in Scotland.

The idea was familiar to De Foe—he himself had suggested it to King
William ; one whole Review was devoted to the inculcation of peace and unity,
probably before the minister had spoken to him on the subject. He imme-
diately prepared to set out for Scotland, and arrived at Edinburgh in the
beginning of October, 1706, a few days before the articles of union were sub-
mitted to the Scottish parliament. Though without any official designation,
yet as the friend and adviser of the ministers, he was received by the commis-
sioners as one invested with plenipotentiary power. His business-habits enabled
hin to render to them essential service, in making those calculations on which
the imposts in future should be levied; and in his “History of the Union”
he enters into many curious particulars of these matters, and of the dangers
to which he and the commissioners were exposed from the infuriated mob.
But finding that there was nothing to fear from “the treaters within doors, I
thought it my duty,” says he, “to do my part without doors; and I knew no
part I could act in my sphere, so useful and proper, as to attempt to remove the
national prejudices, which both people, by the casualty of time and the errors
of parties, had too eagerly taken up, and were adhered to with too great tenacity.;
To this purpose I wrote ¢wo Essays against National: Prejudices in England,
while the treaty was in agitation there; and four more in Scotland, while it
was debating in the parliament there.”

With the same object, in December, 1706, he published, in Edinburgh,
“Caledonia, a poem in honour of Scotland and the Scots nation.” In it he
ulso invites the Scotch to an increased attention to the improvement of the agri-
culture and commerce of the country. During the sixteen months in which he
resided in Scotland, he made several excursions throughout the country, and
his observations upon what he saw there evince great sagacity. At this time
Scotiand contained scarcely a million of inhabitants, and even these were









Qi MEMUILR OF THE AUTHOR.



barely able to obtain a precarious existence. The best of the land was thought
capable of producing oats and barley only; and so late were the seasons,
that the poor husbandman had often to gather his scanty harvest amid the
snow. Famines were frequent, when the poor were forced to live on noxious
roots, and thousands of them died of hunger. But De Foe foresaw its future
greatness, and held out prospects of plenty. “The poverty of Scotland, and
the fruitfulness of Kngland, or rather the difference between them,” suid he,
“is owing not to mere difference of climate, or the nature of the soil; but to
the errors of time and their different vonstitutions.—Liberty and trade have
made the one rich, and tyranny the other poor.”

The union between the two countries was completed in May 1, 1707, but De
Foe continued in Scotland till January, 1708. During his absence, the Review
appeared regularly, and he assures the reader that, “though it is none of the
casiest things in the world to write a paper to come out three times a week,
and perhaps liable to more censure and ill-usage than other papers; and at the
same time, to reside for sixteen months together, at almost four hundred miles
distance from London, and sometimes more,” yet all the articles “are written
by D. F? On his return to London, he endeavoured to obtain a settlement
with his creditors; and after waiting on Mr. Harley and Lord Godolphin, im-
mediately returned to Scotland, as we find him at Kdinburgh in April.

In the beginning of this year, the intrigues which Mr. Harley had for some
time carried on through Mrs. Masham against his colleagues, the Duke of
Marlborough and Lord Godolphin, were discovered ; and they having insisted
upon the queen’s removing him from office, in February he tendered his resig-
vation. On learning Mr. Harley's retirement, De Foe returned to London,
with the intention of tendering his resignation and uniting his fate with him
whom he always designated his benefactor.

“When, upon that fatal breach,” says he, “the seeretary of state [Harley]
was dismissed from the service, 1 looked upon inyself as lost: it being a gene-
ral rule in such cases, when a great officer falls, that all who came in by his
interest fall with him; and resolving never to abandon the fortunes of the
man to whom I owed so much of my own, | quitted the usual applications
which I had made to my lord-treasurer.

“But my generous benefactor, when he understood it, frankly told me that
I should by no means do so; ‘For,’ said he, in the most engaging terms,
“my lord-treasurer will employ you in nothing but what is for the public ser-
vice, and agreeably to your own sentiments of things; and besides, it is the
queen you are serving, who has been very good to you. Pray, apply yourself
as you used to do; I shall not take it ill from you in the least.’

“Upon this, 1 went to wait on my lord-treasurer [Godolphin], who received
me with great freedom, and told me, smiling, he had not seen me a long while.
I told his lordship very frankly the occasion—that the unhappy breach that
had fallen out made me doubtful whether I should be acceptable to his lord-
ship. That I knew it was usual when great persons fall, that all who were mn
their intrest fell with them. hat his lordship knew the obligations I was





MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. ay





under, and that I could not but fear my interest in his lordship was lessened
on that account. ‘Not at all, Mr. De Foe,’ replied his lordship, ‘I always
think a man honest till I find to the contrary.’

“Upon this, T attended his lordship as usual ; and being resolved to remove
all possible ground of suspicion that T kept any sceret correspondence, I never
visited, or wrote to, or any way corresponded with my principal benefactor for
above three years; which he so well knew the reason of, and so well approved
that punctual behaviour in me, that he never took it ill from me at all.

“Tn consequence of this reception, my Lord Godolphin had the goodness not
only to introduce me for the second time to her majesty, and to the honour of
kissing her hand, but obtained for me the continuance of an appointment which
her majesty had been pleased to make me, in consideration of a former special
service Thad done, and in which T had run as much risk of my life as a gren-
ndier upon the countersearp; and which appointment, however, was first ob-
tained for mo at the intercession of my said first benefactor, nnd is all owing
to that intercession and her majesty’s bounty. Upon this second introduction,
her majesty was pleased to tell me, with a goodness peculiar to herself, that
she had such sutisfuction in my former services, that she had appointed me for
another affair, which was something nice, and that my lord-treasurer should tell
me the rest; and so I withdrew.

“The next day, his lordship having commanded me to attend, told mo that
he must send me to Scotland, and gave mo but three days to prepare myself.
Accordingly, I went to Scotland, where neither my business, nor the manner
of my discharging it, is material to this tract; nor will it be ever any part of
my character that I reveal what should be concealed. And yet, my errand was
such as was far from being unfit for a sovereign to direct, or an honest man to
perform ; and the service I did upon that occasion, as it is not unknown to the
greatest man now in the nation under the king and the prince, so, I dare say,
his grace was never displeased with the part I had in it, and I hope will not
forget it.’—An Appeal to Honour and Justice, pp. 14—16, Oxford ed.

As De Foe has not revealed what this “ something nice” was, it may be
fruitless to conjecture, but we find that immediately on his arrival in Edin-
burgh he visited Lord Belhaven, who was at this time a prisoner in the castle
there ; and from his conversation with that nobleman, and the assurances he
gave him of 2 favourable reception by her majesty when he should arrive at
London, it is plain that to comfort him under the wanton insult now-committed
upon his character and person was one of the objects of his mission.

As soon as the union was completed, De Foe intimated his intention of giving
an account of the transaction, but it was delayed till 1709, when it wus printed
at Edinburgh. This edition of “The History of the Union,” exclusive of
preliminary matter, contains 686 pages folio, and its subscription price in
shects, was 20s. It is dedicated to the queen and the Duke of Queensbury,
secretary of state for Scotland. Mr. Chalmers, in his “ Life of De Foe,” thus-
characterizes the work :—

“The minuteness with which 4e describes what he saw and heard on the







98 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



turbulent stage, where he acted a conspicuous part, is extremely interesting to
us, who wish to know what actually passed, however this circumstantiality may
have disgusted contemporaneous readers. History is chiefly valuable as it
transmits 2 faithful copy of the manncrs and sentiments of every age. This
narrative of De Foe is a drama, in which he introduces the highest peers and
the lowest peasants, speaking and acting, according as they were each actuated
by their characteristic passions; and while the man of taste is amused by his
manner, the man of business may draw instruction from the documents, which
are appended to the end, and interspersed in every page. This publication
had alone preserved his name, had his Crusoe pleased us less.”—P. 51.

In 1710, De Foe resided at Stoke-Newington, and seems to have been in
comfortable circumstances. In November he again made an excursion to Scot-
land; and upon the 1st of February, the town-council of Edinburgh, grateful
for the services he had formerly rendered them, empowered him to publish the
Edinburgh Courant, and prohibited any other person to print news under the
name of that paper. He relinquished the publication after printing forty-five
numbers, and in the month of March returned to London.

“TI come now historically,” says De Foe, “to the point of time when my
Lord Godolphin was dismissed from his employment, and the late unhappy di-
vision broke out at court. T waited on my lord the day he was displaced, and
humbly asked his lordship’s direction what course I should take? His lord-
ship’s answer was, ‘That he had the same good-will to assist me, but not the
sume power; that I was the queen’s servant, and that all he had done for me
wis by her majesty’s special and particular direction ; and that whoever should
succeed him, it was not material to me; he supposed I should be employed in
nothing relating to the present differences. My business was to wait till I saw
things settled, and then apply myself to the ministers of state, to receive her
majesty’s commands from them.’



“Tt occurred to me immediately, as a principle for my conduct, that it was
not material to me what ministers her majesty was pleased to employ; my
duty was to go along with every ministry, so far as they did not break in upon
the constitution, and the laws and liberties of my country; my part being
only the duty of a subject, viz. to submit to all lawful commands, and to enter
into no service which was not justifiable by the laws; to all which I have ex-
actly obliged nyself.

“By this, I was providentially east back upon my original benefactor, who,
according to his wonted goodness, was pleased to lay my case before her ma-
jesty ; and thereby I preserved my interest in her majesty’s favour, but with-
out any engagement of service.”

Tt is impossible in this sketch to give any idea of the cighty political works
that proceeded from his pen, from his first journey into Scotland till the
death of Queen Anne, which may be considered synchronous with the termina-
tion of his own political careor. The reader is referred to Wilson’s Life and
Times of De Foe, from which the materials of this memoir are chiefly selected,
for a syuopsis of them. Those only that are necessary to complete the chain





MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 25

eee SS ee
of the narrative can be noticed. The members of the new cabinet, on coming
into power, immediately set about making a peace ; and in this service they
had the hearty co-operation of De Foe, who wrote several pamphlets and largely
in the Review in favour of “a good peace.” But-when it had been concluded
at Utrecht, and the terms became known, “I wrote a public paper at that time,
and there it remains upon record against me. I printed it openly, and that so
plainly that others durst not do it, that I did not like the peace.” He was
now placed as a mark for both parties, and so many pamphlets were daily
coming out in his name, of which he had no knowledge, that he deemed it pru-
dent to retire for a time from the contest, “and for the greater part of a year
never put pen to paper, except in the public paper called the Review.”

“ After this I was long absent in the north of England; and observing the
insolence of the Jacobite party, and how they insinuated fine things into the
heads of the people; in order to detect the influence of their emissaries, the first
thing I wrote was a small tract, called ‘A Scasonable Caution ;’ a book sincerely
written to open the eyes of the poor, ignorant country people, and to warn
them against the subtle insinuations of the emissaries of the Pretender; and
that it might be effectual to that purpose, I prevailed with several of my friends
to give them away among the poor people, all over England, especially in the
north; and several thousands were actually given away, the price being reduced
so low, that the bare expense of paper and press was only preserved.

“Next to this, and with the same sinccre design, I wrote two pamphlets,
one entitled, ‘What if the Pretender should come ?’ the other, ‘Reasons against
the Succession of the House of Hanover.’

“Nothing can be more plain than that the titles of these books were amuse-
ments, in order to put the books into the hands of those people whom the
Jacobites had deluded, and to bring them to be read by them. ,

“Previous to what I shall further say of these books, I must observe that
all these books met with so general a reception and approbation among those
who were most sincere for the Protestant succession, that they sent them all
over the kingdom, and recommended them to the people as excellent and
useful pieces; insomuch that about seven editions of them were printed, and
they were reprinted in other places. And I do protest, had his present majesty,
then elector of Hanover, given me a thousand pounds to have written for the
interest of his succession, and to expose and render the interest of the. Pre- .
tender odious and ridiculous, I could have done nothing more effectual to those
purposes than these books were.

“No man in this nation ever had a more riveted aversion to the Pretender,
and to all the family he pretended to come of, than I; a man that had been
in arms under the Duke of Monmouth, against the cruelty and arbitrary go-
vernment of his pretended father; that for twenty years had to my utmost
opposed him (King James) and his party after his abdication; and had served
King William to his satisfaction, and the friends of the Revolution after hi
death, at all hazards and upon all ocasions; that had suffered and been rujmec
under the administration of high-fliers and Jacobites, of whom some at this -








30. =; MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.

day counterfeit Whigs. It could not be! The nature of the thing could by
no means allow it; it must be monstrous. For these books I was prosecuted,
tuken into custody, and obliged to give 8002. bail.

“This matter making some noise, people began to inquire into it, and ask
what De Foc was prosecuted for, seeing the books were manifestly written
against the Pretender, and for the interest of the house of Hanover.—And my
friends expostulated freely with some of the men who appeared in it, who
answered with more truth than honesty, that they knew this book had nothing
in it, and that it was meant another way; but that De Foe had disobliged them
in other things, and they were resolved to take the advantage they had, both
to punish and expose him. They were no inconsiderable people who said this;
and had the case come to a trial, I had provided good evidence to prove the
words.

“Now, as this was the plot of a few men to see if they could brand me in
the world for a Jacobite, and persuade rash and ignorant people that I was
turned about for the Pretender, I think they might as casily have proved me
to be a Mohammedan; therefore, I say, this obliges me to state the matter as it
really stands, that impartial men may judge whether those books were written
for or against the Pretender. And this cannot be better done than by the
account of what followed after the information, which, in a few words, was
this :-—

“Upon the several days appointed, I appeared at the Queen’s Bench bar to
discharge my bail; and at last had an indictment for high crimes and mis-
demeanors exhibited against me by her majesty’s attorney-general, which, as I
was informed, contained two hundred sheets of paper.

“T was not ignorant that in such eases it is easy to make any book a libel,
and that the jury must have found the matter of fact in the indictment, viz.
that I had written such books, and then what might have followed I know not.
Wherefore, I thought it was my only way to cast myself on the clemency of
her majesty, of whose goodness I had so much experience many ways; repre-
senting in my petition, that I was far from the least intention to favour the
interest of the Pretender, but that the books were all written with a sincere
design to promote the interest of the house of Hanover; and humbly laid
before her majesty, as I do now before the rest of the world, the books them-
selves to plead in my behalf; representing further, that I was maliciously
informed against by those who were willing to put a construction upon the
expressions different from my true meaning; and therefore, flying to her
majesty’s goodness and clemency, I entreated her gracious pardon.

“It was not only the native disposition of her majesty to acts of clemency
and goodness that obtained me this pardon; but, as I was informed, her majesty
was pleased to express it in the council, ‘She saw nothing but private pique
in the first prosecution.’ 2

+ The reader must be struck by the resemblance between this prosecution and
the former one, for the publication of the “Shortest Way with the Dissenters.”
De Foe had been playing the same game and was caught in the same trap.





MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 81

ee ee
At this time the friendship of Lord Oxford to a considerable degree saved ‘him
from the malice of his enemies, by taking the prosecution out of the hands
of the individual who instituted it, and intrusting it to the solicitor of the
treasury, who accepted a bail, thich by the original party was refused. One
of the consequences of this prosecution was the cessation of the Review, the
chief engine of his power; and feeling that his political life was drawing to a
close, he, shortly aftér, began his “ Appeal to Honour and Justice,” the reasons
for which are thus affectingly stated: “I think I have long enough been made
Fubula Vuigi, and borne the weight of general slander , and I should be wanting
to truth, to my family, and to myself, if I did not give a fair and true state of
my conduct, for impartial men to judge of, when Iam no more in being to
answer for myself. By the hints of mortality, and by the infirmities of a life
of sorrow and fatigue, I have reason to think I am not a great way off from,
if not very near to the great ocean of eternity, and the time may not be long
ere I embark on the last voyage. Wherefore, I think I should even accounts
with this world before I go, that no actions (slanders) may lie against my
heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, to disturb them in the peaceable
possession of their father’s (character) inheritance.”

While engaged in this narrative he was struck with apoplexy, and the work

was published in an unfinished state. After languishing six months he gra-
dually recovered, but was long very weak.

We will conclude this sketch of his political labours with a quotation from the
preface to the eighth volume of the Review, in which he thus sums up his
chequered life :—‘I know too much of the world to expect good in it, and
have learnt to value it too little to be concerned at the eyjJl. I have gone
through a life of wonders, and am the subject of a vast variety of providences;
T have been fed more by miracle than Elijah, when the ravens were his pur-
veyors. I have sometime ago summed up the scenes of my life in this distich:

“No man has tasted differing fortunes more,
And thirteen times I have been rich and poor.”

“In the school of affliction I have learnt more philosophy than at the aca-
demy, and more divinity than from the pulpit; in prison I have learnt to know
that liberty does not consist in open doors, and the free egress and regress of
locomotion. I have seen the rough side of the world as well as the smooth ;
and have in less than half a year tasted the difference between the closet of a
king and the dungeon of Newgate. I have suffered deeply for cleaving to
principles, of which integrity I have lived to say, none but those I suffered for
ever reproached me with it. I look in, and upon the narrowest search I can
make of my own thoughts, desires, and designs, I find a clear untainted prin-
ciple, and consequently an entire calm of conscience, founded upon the satisfying
sense, that I neither am touched with bribes, guided or influenced by. fear,
favour, hope, dependence, or reward from any person or party under heaven ;
and that I have written, and do write nothing but what is my native, free,
undirected opinion and judgment, and which was so many years ago. . I look
‘up, and without examining into His ways, tte sovereignty. of whose providence





32 ME.JOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



Tadore, I submit with an entire resignation to whatever happens to me, as

being by the immediate direction of that goodness, and for such wise and

glorious ends, as, however I may not yet see through, will at last issue in good,

even to me; fully depending, that I shall yet*be delivered from the power of

slander and reproach, and the sincerity of my conduct be yet cleared up to the
world: and if not, Ze Dewm laudamus.”

With the accession of the house of Hanover, De Foe beheld the triumph
of those’principles which it had been the object of his life to establish. The
author and his enemies were struck down together: but rising from his ashes
he was destined to begin a more glorious career. With renovated health, in
1715, he commenced writing that series of didactic and imaginative works
which has made his name immortal. The first of these, “The Family Instrue-
tor,” is a dialogue, designed to impress upon parents the duty of instructing ”

their children, and of children to listen to their instruction. To this work he
added a second volume in 1718, and another in 1727. The dialogue is well
sustained, and being a general favourite with the young it has passed through
many editions. Passing over six works in the catalogue, in 1717 we come to
“Memoirs of the Church of Seotland,”’ now very scarce and valuable; and in
1719, the immortal narrative of “Robinson Crusoe.” For the first part he
had difficulty in finding a bookseller; but it was so favourably received that
he was encouraged to proceed, and after an interval of about three months the
second part appeared. It is too well known to require recommendation. The
suecess of this work encouraged him to persevere in the same line, and in the
same year he published “ Dickory Cronke, the Dumb Philosopher.” In 1720,
“The Life and Adventures of Duncan Campbell,” and “The Pyracies of Capt.
Singleton.” In 1721 he published “ Moll Flanders;” and “Colonel Jacque,”
“The Religious Courtship,” “Memoirs of a Cavalier,” and “Journal of the
Plague Year,” in 1722.

Lord Chatham was in the habit of recommending the “Memoirs of a Cava-
lier” as the best account of the Civil War extant, and was not a little mortified
when told that it was a romance; and Dr. Meade and many others have sup-
posed that “The History of the Plague’ was an authentic history. “Had he
not been the author of Robinson Crusoe,” says Sir Walter Scott, “De Foe
would have deserved immortality for the genius which he has displayed in this
work.”

De Foc never tells a story for mere amusement. Asa painter of life he had to
take the world as he found it: as a moralist his aim was to leave it better. Our
space will not permit us to enter into an analysis of the fifty works which he
produced in this period, nor even to mention their names. In taking leave
of a man of genius, it is grateful that we need be the apologist of no vice.
Strictly pious, temperate, and virtuous, his name is left without reproach.

‘The latter years of his life were spent chiefly at Stoke-Newington. To him
it was a comparatively tranquil period, but not one of idleness. Mr. Baker,
the author of the work on the ‘ Microscope,” who married his youngest daugh-

nt ein



MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR 33

ter, left behind him a paper, in which he speaks of him as living “in a very
handsome house,” and supposed ‘from his genteel way of living, that he must
be able to giveshis daughter a decent portion.”

He spént his time in the “pursuit of his studies’ and in the “cultivation
of a large and pleasant garden.” It would have been pleasing after such a
life of toil and vicissitude to have left him thus, surrounded by his family}
peacefully enjoying the fruits of his labour in his old age. But for several
years before his death he was much tormented by gout and stone, and in 1730
he was again for a short time an inmate of a prison. ‘But it is not the blow
I received from this wicked, perjured, and contemptible enemy,” says he, in a
private letter to his son-in-law, “that has broken in upon my spirit. But it has
been the injustice, unkindness, and inhuman dealing of mine own son, which
has both ruined my family and broken my heart... . . I would say (I hope)
with comfort, that ’tis yet well. Iam so near my journey’s end, and am hast-
ening to the place where the weary are at rest, and where the wicked cease to
trouble; be it that the passage is rough, and the day stormy, by what way
soever He please to bring me to the end of it, I desire to finish life with this
temper of soul in all cases: Te Dewm laudamus.”

Having completed the allotted term of human existence, with a mind steadily
fixed upon the scenes beyond, he passed the boundaries of time into eternity,
on the twenty-fourth of April, 1731, in the same parish in which he was born

The origin of this edition is stated in the advertisement. The particulars
of the life of De Foe are so little known, that it was thought a memoir of him
would be acceptable; and the life by Chalmers, though a goésb work, being
now proved, by the investigations of Mr. Wilson, in many things to be incorrect,
‘it was thought necessary to compile a new one from original sources. “For
this purpose the materials were ample: the slanders of his enemies having
often compelled him to stand on his own defence, and the only task of the
editor has been to select judiciously. ;

The romance of Robinson Crusoe having been printed in so many forms, and
altered to suit the taste and convenience of its several publishers, is seldom to
be found in a perfect state. In preparing the Oxford edition of “De Foe’s
Miscellaneous Works,” in 1889, the early editions printed in his lifetime were
collected and compared, and the work issued as it came from the hands of the
author: of that edition this is a reprint; but it has been also carefully com-
pared with a copyright edition printed at Edinburgh in 1846, and several
slight errors corrected. With the exception of the omission of one vulgar
phrase, no way necessary to complete the sense, and which the author indicated
by dashes, thinking it improper to express it in words, no alteration has been

made; and it is believed that the edition here presented is the most perfect in
existence.











































































I was born in the year 1682, in the city of York, of a good family,
though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen,
who settled first at Hull. He got a good estate by merchandise, and,
leaving off his trade, lived afterwards at York, from whence he had
married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very
good family in that country, and from whom I was called Robinson
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 which was a lieutenant-colonel to
an English regiment of foot in Flanders, formerly commanded by the
famous Colonel Lockhart, and was killed at the battle near Dunkirk
against the Spaniards: what became of my second brother, I never
knew, any more than my father or mother did know what was become
of me.

Being the third son of the family, and not bred to any trade, my |

head began to be filled very early with rambling thoughts: my father,
35

























I was born in the year 1682, in the city of York, of a good family,
though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen,
who settled first at Hull. He got a good estate by merchandise, and,
leaving off his trade, lived afterwards at York, from whence he had
married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very
good family in that country, and from whom I was called Robinson
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 which was a lieutenant-colonel to
an English regiment of foot in Flanders, formerly commanded by the
famous Colonel Lockhart, and was killed at the battle near Dunkirk
against the Spaniards: what became of my second brother, I never
knew, any more than my father or mother did know what was become
of me.

Being the third son of the family, and not bred to any trade, my |

head began to be filled very early with rambling thoughts: my father,
35



“BH THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

who was very ancient, had given me a competent share of learning, as
far as house education, and a country free school generally goes, and
designed me for the law; but 1 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 entreaties
and persuasions of my mother and other friends, that there seemed to
be something fatal in that propension of nature, tending directly to
the life of misery which was to befall me.

My father, a wise and grave man, gave me serious and excellent
counsel against what he foresaw was my design. He called me one
morning into his chamber, where he was confined by the gout, and ex-
postulated very warmly with me upon this subject. He asked me what
reasons, more than a mere wandering inclination, I had for leaving my
father’s house and my native country, where I might be well intro-
duced, and had a prospect of raising my fortune by application and
industry, with a life of ease and pleasure. He told me it was men of
des}+rate fortunes on one hand, or of aspiring superior fortunes on the
other, who went abroad upon adventures, to rise by enterprise, 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 labour and sufferings of the
mechanic part of mankind, and not embarrassed with the pride, luxury,
ambition, and envy of the upper part of mankind. He told me, I
might judge of the happiness of this state by this one thing, namely,
that this was the state of life which all other people envied; that kings
have frequently lamented the miserable consequences of being born to
great things, and wished ‘they had been placed in the middle of the
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.

He 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 uneasiness, either
of body or mind, as those were, who, by vicious living, luxury, and
extravagances, on one hand, or by hard labour, want of necessaries,
and mean or insufficient diet, on the other hand, bring distempers upon
‘themselves by the natural consequences of their way of living; that

_



OF ROBINSUN CRUSUVE. 37



the middle station of life was calculated for all kind of virtues,
and all kind of enjoyments; that peace and plenty were the hand-
maids of a middle fortune; that temperance, moderation, quietness,
health, society, all agreeable diversions, and all desirable pleasures,
were the blessings attending the middle station of life; that this way,
men went silently and smoothly through the world, and comfortably
out of it; not embarrassed with the labours of the hands or of the
head; not sold to a life of slavery for daily bread, or harassed with
perplexed circumstances, which rob the soul of peace and the body of
rest; not enraged with the passion of envy, or the 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; feeling that they are happy, and learning, by every day’s
experience, to know it more sensibly.

After this he pressed me earnestly, and in the most affectionate
manner, not to play the young man, or to precipitate myself into
miseries, which nature, and the station of life I was born in, seemed
to have provided against; that I was under no necessity of seeking
my bread; that he would do well for me, and endeavour to enter me
fairly 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 fate, 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 had used the same earnest persuasions to keep him from going into
the Low Country wars, but could not prevail, his young desires prompt-
ing 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 have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected his coun-
sel, when there might be none to assist in my recovery.

I observed, in this 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, espe-
cially 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 heart was so
full he could say no more to me.



38 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



I was sincerely afflicted 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 desire. But, alas! a few
days wore it all off; and, in short, to prevent any of my father’s far-
ther importunities, in a few weeks after, I resolved to run quite away
from him. However, I did not act so hastily neither, as the first heat
of my 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 any thing 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 too 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, but 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 go one voyage abroad, 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 subject;
that he knew too well what was my interest, to give his consent to any
such thing so much for 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 hel
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 destruction;
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
afterwards, that she reported all the discourse to him; and that my
father, after showing a 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 mean time I continued obstinately deaf to all proposals of settling
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 that
time; but, I say, being there, and one of my companions being’ going



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 39



by sea to London, in his father’s ship, and prompting me to go with
them, with the common allurement of a seafaring man, that it shou.3
cost me nothing for my passage, I consulted neither father nor mother
any more, nor so much as sent them word of it; but leaving them tu
hear 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, on the Ist of September, 1651, I went on board a
ship bound for London. Never any young adventurer’s misfortunes, I
believe, began sooner, or continued longer, than mine: the ship was
no sooner got out of the Humber, but the wind began to blow, and the
sea to rise in a most frightful manner; and as I had never been at sea
before, I was most inexpressibly sick in body, and terrified in mind.
I began now seriously to reflect upon what I had done, and how justly
I was overtaken by the judgment of Heaven for my wicked leaving
my father’s house, and abandoning my duty; all the good counsel of
my parents, my father’s tears and my mother’s entreaties, 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 breach of my duty to God and my
father.

All this while the storm increased, and the sea went very high,
though nothing like what I have seen many times since; no, nor what
I saw a few days after: but 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 that every time
the ship fell down, as I thought it did, in the trough, orshollow of the
sea, we should never rise more. In this agony of mind, I made many
vows and resolutions, that if it would please God to spare my life in
this one voyage, if ever I got once my foot upon dry land again, I
would go direetly home to my father, and never set it into a ship again
while I lived; but 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 com
fortable he had lived all his days, and never had been éxposed to tem-
pests at sea, or trouble on shore; and, in short, I resolved, that 1
would, like a true repenting prodigal, go home to my father.

These wise and sober thoughts continued all the while the storm *

continued, and indeed some time after; but the next day the wind was

abated, and the sea calmer, and I began to be a little inured told.



Bimeren I was very grave for all that day, being also a little sea-sr8

still; but towards night the weather cleared up, the wind was quite*~
over, and a charming fine evening followed; the sun went down -per-






Bs





4u THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

fectly 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 delightful that ever I saw.

I had slept well in the night, and was now no more sea-sick, but very
cheerful; looking with wonder upon the sea, that was so rough and
terrible the day before, and could be so calm and so pleasant in so lit-
tle a time after: and now, lest my good resolutions should continue.
my companion, who had indeed enticed me away, comes to me; ‘ Well,
Bob,” says he, clapping me upon the shoulder, “how do you do after
it? I warrant you were frightened, weren’t you, last night, when it
blew but a capful of wind ?’—“ A capful d’ye call it?” said I, “’twas a
terrible storm.’””—‘ A storm, you fool, you!”’ replies he, “do you call
that a storm? 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; but
you're but a fresh-water sailor, Bob; come, let us make a bowl of
punch, and we'll forget all that; d’ye see what charming weather ’tis
now?’ To make short this sad part of my story, we went the way of
all sailors; the punch was made, and I was made half drunk with it,
and in that one night’s wickedness I drowned all my repentance, all
my reflections upon my past conduct, all my resolutions for the future.
In a word, as the sea was returned to its smoothness of surface, and
settled calmness, by the abatement of that storm, so, the hurry of my
thoughts being over, my fears and apprehensions of being swallowed
up by the sea being forgotten, and the current of my former desires
returned, I entirely forgot the vows and promises that I made in my
distress. I found, indeed, some intervals of reflection; and the serious
thoughts did, as it were, endeavour to return again sometimes; but I
shook them off, and roused myself from them, as it were from a dis-
temper; and, applying myself to drinking and company, soon mastered
the return of those fits (for so I called them); and I had, in five or six
days, got as complete a victory over my conscience as any young fellow
that resolved not to be troubled with it could desire. But I was to
have another trial for it still; and Providence, as in such cases gene-
rally it does, resolved to leave me entirely without excuse: for if I
would not take this for a deliverance, the next was to be such an one
as the worst and most hardened wretch among us would confess both
the danger and the mercy.

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 an anchor,
and here we lay, the wind continuing contrary, namely, at south-west,
for seven or eight days; during which time, a great many ships from















r
SS 2 .
| Ltlward Hughes ; aa EE ="
CRUSOE AND BOB ABOARD SIITP. 41



49 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



Newcastle came into the same roads, as the common harbour where the
ships might wait for a wind for the river.

We had not, however, rid here so long, but we should have tided it
up the river, 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 harbour, 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 top-masts, 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 rid forecastle in, shipped
several seas, and we thought once or twice our anchor had come home ;
upon which our master ordered out the sheet anchor; so that we rode
with two anchors a-head, and the cables veered out to the better end.

By this time, it blew a terrible storm indeed; and now, I began to.
see terror and amazement in the faces even of the seamen themselves..
The master, though vigilant in the business of preserving the ship, yet
as he went in and out of his cabin by me, I could hear him, softly to.
himself, say, several times, “‘ Lord, be merciful to us! we shall be all
lost—we shall be all undone!’ and the like. During these first hur-
ries, I was stupid, lying still in my cabin, which was in the steerage,
and cannot describe my temper. I could ill resume the first penitence
which I had so apparently trampled upon, and hardened myself against :
I thought the bitterness of death had been past; and that this would
be nothing, too, like the first. But, when the master himself came by
me, as I said just now, and said we should be all 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 round us. Two ships that rid near us, we found,
had cut their masts by the board, being deep laden; and our men cried.
out, that a ship, which rid about a mile a-head of us, was foundered.
Two more ships, being driven from their anchors, were run out of the
roads to sea, at all adventures, and that with not a mast standing. The
light ships fared the best, as not so much labouring in the sea; but
two or three of them drove, and came close by us, running away with
only their sprit-sail out, before the wind.

Towards the evening, the mate and boatswain begged tne master of
our ship to let them cut away the foremast, which he was very unwill-
ing 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



OF ROBINSON CRUSUE. 43





foremast, the mainmast stood so loose, and shook the ship so much,
they were obliged to cut her away also, and make a clear deck.

Any one must judge what a condition I must be in at all this, who
was but a young 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 had
about me at that time, I was in tenfold more horror of mind upon ac-
count of my former convictions, and the having returned from them to
the resolutions I had wickedly taken at first, than I was at death itself;
and these, added to the terror of the storm, put me into such a condi-
tion, that I can by no words describe it. But the worst was not come
yet; the storm continued with such fury, that the seamen themselves
acknowledged they had never seen a worse. We had a good ship, but
she was deep laden, and wallowed in the sea, that the seamen every
now and then cried out she would founder. . It was my advantage in
one respect, that I did not know what they meant by founder, till I
inquired. However, 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 when 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 had been down on
purpose to see, cried out we had sprung a leak; 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 backwards upon the side of my bed where I sat, into the

‘cabin. However, the men roused me, and told me, that I that 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 the
sea, and would come near us, ordered to fire a gun as a signal-of dis-
tress. I, who knew nothing what that meant, was so surprised, that
I thought the ship.had broke, or some dreadful thing happenéd. In
a word, I was so surprised, that I fell down in a swoon. As this was
a time when everybody had his «wn life to think of, nobody minded
me, or what was become of me; but another man stepped up to the

pump, and, thrusting me aside with his foot, let me lie, thinking Thad -

been dead; and it was a great while before I came to myself.
We worked on, but the water increasing in the hold, it was apparent

~

that the ship would founder; and though the storm began to abate a.

little, yet as 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 a-head of us, ventured a boat out to help us.



























































































44 THE STORM.



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 45



It was with the utmost hazard the boat came near us; but it was
impossible for us to get on board, or for the boat to lie near the ship
side, till at last the men rowing very heartily, and venturing their lives
to save ours, our men cast them a rope over the stern with a buoy to
it, and then veered it out a great length, which they, after much labour
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 to their own ship; so all
agreed to let her drive, and only to pull her in towards 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 towards the shore, almost as far as Winterton Ness.

We were not much more than a quarter of an hour out of our ship,
but we saw her sink: and then I understood, for the first time, what
was meant by a ship 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 labouring 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 shore to assist us, when we should come near; but we made
but slow way towards the shore, nor were we able to reach the shore,
till being past the light-house at Winterton, the shore falls off to the
westward towards Cromer, and so the land broke off a little the
violence of the wind. Here we got in, and, though not without much
difficulty, got all safe on shore, and walked afterwards on foot to
Yarmouth, where, as unfortunate men, we were used with great
humanity, as well by the magistrates of the town, who assigned us
good quarters, as by particular merchants and owners of ships, and
had money given us sufficient to carry us either to London, or back to
Hull, as we thought fit.

Had I now had the sense to have gone back to Hull, and have gone
home, I had been happy, and my father, an emblem of our blessed
Saviour’s parable, had even killed the fatted calf for me; for hearing
the ship 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 now witn an obstinacy that nothing
could resist: and though I had several times loud calls from my reason





46 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

and 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, over-
ruling decree, that hurries us on to be the instruments of our own
destruction, even though it be before us, and that we push upon it with
our eyes open. Certainly, nothing but some such decreed unavoidable
misery attending, and which it was impossible for me to escape, could
have pushed me forward against the calm reasonings and persuasions
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 master’s 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 days, 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 shaking his head, asked me how I did:
and telling 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 very grave and concerned tone, “‘ Young man,” says he, ‘‘ you
ought never 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 you go to sea no more?’”’—‘“‘ That is another case,”
said he; “it is my calling, and therefore my duty; but as you made
this voyage for a trial, you see what a taste Heaven has given you, of
what you are to expect, if you persist: perhaps all this has befallen
us on your account, like Jonah in the ship of Tarshish. Pray,” con-
tinues he, “what are you? and on what account did you go to sea?”
Upon that I told him some of my story ; at the end of which he burst
out with a strange kind of passion: ‘What had I done,’ says he,
‘“‘that such an unhappy wretch should come into my ship? I would not
set my foot in the same ship with thee again for a thousand pounds.”
This indeed was, as I said, an excursion of the spirits, which were
yet agitated by the sense of his loss, and was farther than he
could have authority to go. However, he afterwards 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 no-
thing but disasters 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 thers, as well



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 4T

as on the road, had many struggles with myself, what course of life
T 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 neighbours, and should be ashamed to see, not
my father and mother only, but even everybody else ; from whence I
have since often 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, namely, that they are not ashamed to sin,
and yet are ashamed to repent; nor ashamed of the action for which
they ought justly to be esteemed fools, but are ashamed of the return-
ing, 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 irresistible reluctance con-
tinued to going home; and as I stayed a while, the remembrance of
the distress I had been in wore off; and, as that abated, the little mo-
tion 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 notion 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
‘command of my father,—I say, the same influence, whatever it was,
presented the most unfortunate of all enterprises to 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 the same time, I had learned the
‘duty and office of a foremastman, and in time might have qualified
myself for a mate or lieutenant, if not for a master. But as it was
always my fate to choose for the worse, so I did here; for, having
money in my pocket, and 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, or learned to do any.







48 THE LIFE AND~ ADVENTURES

CHAPTER II.

Make a trading Voyage to Guinea very successfully—Death of my Captain—Sail another
Trip with his Mate—The Vengeance of Providence for Disobedience to Parents now
overtakes me—Taken by a Sallee Rover, and all sold as Slaves—My Master fre-
quently sends me a-fishing, which suggests an idea of escape—Make my escape in
an open Boat, with a Moresco Boy.

Ir was my lot, first of all, to fall into pretty good company in Lon-
ton, which does not always happen to such loose and unguided 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 a 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; and who taking a fancy to my conversation, which was
not at all disagreeable at that time, hearing me say I had a mind to
see the world, told me, if I would go the voyage with him I should be
at no expense; I should be his messmate and his companion; and if I
could carry any thing with me, I should have all the advantage of it
that the trade would admit; and perhaps I might meet with some
encouragement. de

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 disin-
terested honesty of my friend, the captain, I increased very considera-
bly; for I carried about forty pounds in 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.as 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 integrity and honesty of my friend
the captain; under whom, also, I got a competent knowledge of the
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 understood 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 and a merchant: for I brought
home five pounds nine ounces of gold dust for my adventure, which







OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 49























































































4 iN : an
/ ff \ i i }









Uy



































ATTACK OF THE SALLEE ROVER.

yielded me in London, at my 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
excessive heat of the climate; our principal trading being upon the
coast, from the latitude of fifteen degrees north, even to the line itself.

I was now set up for a Guinea trader; and my friend, to my great
misfortune, dying soon after his arrival, I resolved to go the same voy-
age again; and I embarked in the same vessel with one who was his
mate in the former voyage, and had now got the command of the ship.
This was the unhappiest voyage that ever man made; for though I did

‘not carry quite £100 of my new-gained wealth, so that I had £200

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,—namely, our ship, making her course towards the Canary
Islands, or rather between those islands and the African shore, was

surprised, in the gray of the morning, by a Moorish rover of Sallee,

who gave chase to us with all the sail she could make. We crowded

also ag much canvas as our yards would spread, or our masts carry, to

have got clear; but finding the pirate gained upon us, and would cer-

tainly 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 after-
4



50 . THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES









































CRUSOE A SLAVE.

noon he came up with us, and bringing to, by mistake, just athwart
our quarter, instead of athwart our stern, as he intended, we brought
eight of our guns to bear on that side, and poured in a broadside upen
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. He prepared to attack us again, and we to defend our-
selves; but laying us on board the next time upon our other quarter,
he entered sixty men upon our decks, who immediately fell to cutting
and hacking the decks and rigging. We plied them with small shot,
half-pikes, powder-chests, and such like, and cleared our deck of them
twice. However, to cut short this melancholy part of our story, our
ship being disabled, and three of our men killed, and eight wounded,
we Were obliged to yield, and 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-





OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 51





ness, At this surprising change of my circumstances, from a merchant
to a miserable slave, I was perfectly overwhelmed; and now I looked
back upon my father’s prophetic discourse to me, that I shoujd be
miserable, and have none to relieve me; which I thought was now so
effectually brought to pass, that I could not be worse; that now the
hand of Heaven had overtaken me, and I was undone without redemp-
tion. But, alas! this was but a taste of the misery I was to go through,
as will appear in the sequel of this story.

As my new patron or master had taken me home to his house, so I
was in hopes that he would take me with him when he went to sea
again, believing that it would be some time or other his fate to be taken
by a Spanish or Portugal 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 common drudgery of slaves about his house; and when he came
home again from his cruize, he ordered me to lie in the cabin, to look
after the ship.

Ilere I meditated nothing but my escape, and what method I sip
take to affect it; but found no way that had the least probability in it.
Nothing presented to make the supposition of it rational; for I had
nobody to communicate it to that would embark with me,—no fellow-
slave, no Englishman, Irishman, or Scotchman there, but myself; so
that for two years, though I often pleased myself with the imagination,
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
his ship, which, as I heard, was for want of money, he used constantly,
once or twice a-week, sometimes oftener, if the weather was fair, to
take the ship’s pinnace, 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 catching 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
ash of fish for him.

It happened one time, that going a-fishing with him in a calm morn-
ing, a fog rose so thick, that though we were not half a league from the
shore, we lost sight of it; and, rowing we knew not whither, or which
way, we laboured all day, and all the next night; and, when the morn- .
mg came, we found we had pulled off to sea, instead of pulling in for
the bona and that we were at least two leagues from the land: how-
ever, we got well in again, though with a great deal of labour, and





52 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



some danger ; for the wind began to blow pretty fresh in the morning ;
but, particularly, we were all very hungry.

But our patron, warned by this disaster, resolved to take more care
of himself for the future; and having lying by him the long-boat of our
English ship which he had taken, he resolved he would not go a-fishing
any more without a compass and some provision; so he ordered the
carpenter of his ship, who also was an English slave, to build a little
state-room, or cabin, in the middle of the long-boat, like that of a
barge, with a place 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 drink, particularly his bread, rice, and coffee.

We were frequently out with this boat a-fishing; and as I was most
dexterous to catch fish for him, he never went without me. It hap-
pened one day, that he had appointed to go out in this boat, either for
pleasure or for fish, with two or three Moors of some distinction, and
for whom he had provided extraordinary ; and had therefore sent on
board the boat over night a larger store of provisions than usual; and
had ordered me to get ready three fusils 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 had directed; and waited the next morn-
ing with the boat washed clean, her ancient 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 the 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; he commanded me, too, that as soon
as I 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 fishing business, but for a voyage; though I knew not, neither did
I so much as consider, whither I would steer; for anywhere to get
out of that place was my way.

My first contrivance was to make a pretence to speak to this Moor,
‘to get something for our subsistence on board; for I told him we must
not presume to eat of our patron’s bread: he said, that was true; se



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ~ 53



he brought a large 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
some 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-
veyed also a great lump of beeswax into the boat, which weighed above

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 afterwards, espe-
cially the wax to make candles. Another trick I tried upon him, which
he innocently came into also. His name was Ismael, whom they call
Muly, or Moley; so I called him: “‘Moley,” said I, “our patron’s
guns are on board the boat; can you not get a little powder and shot?
It may be we may kill some alcamies (a fowl like our curlews) for our
selves, for I know he keeps the gunner’s stores in the ship.” —“ Yes,”
says he, “I'll bring some ;” and accordingly he brought a great leather.
pouch, which held about a pound and a half of powder, or rather more,
and another with shot, that had five or six pounds, with some bullets,
and put all into the boat; at the same time I had found ‘some 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 every thing 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 were not
above a mile out of the port before we hauled in our sail, and set us down
to fish. The wind blew from the north-north-east, which was contrary
to my desire; for had it blown southerly, I had been sure to have made
the coast of Spain, and at least reached to the bay of Cadiz; but my
resolutions were, blow which way it would, I would be gone from that
horrid place where I was, and leave the rest to fate.

After we had fished some time, and eatched nothing—for when I
had fish on my hook I would not pull them up, that he might not see
them—I said to the Moor, ‘“ This will not do; our master will not be
thus served; we must stand farther off.” He, thinking no harm,
agreed, and being in the head of the boat, set the sails; and as I had
the hel, I ran the boat out near a league farther, and then brought
her to as if I would fish; when, giving the boy the helm, I stepped

forward to where the Moor was, and making as if I stooped for soms- ,

thing behind him, I took him by. surprise with my arm under his twigt,
and tossed him clear overboard into the sea: he rose immedistely for
he swam like a cork, and called to me, begged to be taken:ii,
he-would se all over the world with me :






a ewan 80 strong: ae *



& ub



‘64 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

little wind; upon which I stepped into the cabin, and fetching one of
the fowling-pieces, I presented it at him, and told him, I had done him
no hurt, and if he would be quiet I would do him none: “ But,” said
I, “you swim well enough to reach to the shore, and the sea is’calm;
make the best of your way to shore, and I will do you no harm; but
if you come near the boat, I'll shoot you through the head, for I am
resolved to have my liberty:’’ so he turned himself about, and swam
for the shore, and I make no doubt but he reached it with ease, for he
was an excellent swimmer.

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
he was gone, I turned to the boy, whom they called Xury, and said to
him, “‘ Xury, if you will be faithful to me, I'll make you a great man;
but if you will not stroke your face to be true to me (that is, swear
by Mohammed and his father’s beard), I must throw you into the sea
too.” The boy smiled in my face, and spoke so innocently that T
could not mistrust him; and swore to be faithful to me, and go all
over the world with me.

While I was in view of the Moor that was swimming, I stood out
directly to sea with the boat, rather stretching to windward, that they
might think me gone towards the Straits’ mouth, as indeed any one
that had been in their wits must have been supposed to do; for who
would have supposed we were sailed 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 merci-
less savages 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
toward the east, 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 first made the land, I could not be Icss than one hundred and fifty
miles south of Sallee, quite beyond the Emperor of Morocco’s domi-
unions, or, indeed, of any other king thereabouts, 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, tall I
had sailed in that manner five days; and then the wind shifting 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 to the
coast, and come to an anchor in the mouth of a little river, I knew





OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 55



not what or where; neither what latitude, what counti’y, what nation,
or what river: I neither saw, or 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 dis-
cover 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
fcar, and begged of me not to go on shore till day. “Well, Xury,”
said I, “then I won't; but, it may be, we may see men by day, who
will be as bad to us as those lions.” —“ Then we give them the shoot
gun,” says Xury, laughing, “make them run wey.’ Such English
XAury 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
great 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 yellings that I never indeed heard the likes

Xury was dreadfully frighted, and indeed so was I too; but we
were both more frighted when we heard one of these mighty creatures
come swimming towards 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. ty
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 to sea;
they cannot follow us far.” I had no sooner said so, but I perceived.‘
the creature (whatever it was) within two oars’ length, which somethigy 3
surprised me; however, I immediately stepped to the cabin door, wd
taking up my gun, fired at him; upon which he immediately turned
about, and swam to the shore again.

But it was not possible to describe the horrible noises, and hideous
cries and howlings, that were raised, as well upon the edge of the shore,
as higher within the country, upon the noise or report of a gun:
thing I have some reason to believe those creatures had never i
before. This convinced me, that there was no going on shore for
in the night upon that coast; and how to venture on shore in the d
was another question too; for to have fallen into the’ bax
the savages, had been as bad as to have fallen a
and tigers; at least, we were oa apprehensive of ¢



oe!











/

ay’ THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



—w

other for water, for we had not a pint left in the boat; when o: 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 tome. I asked him why he would go? why I should not go, and
he stay in the boat? The boy answered with so much affection, that
made me love him ever after. Says he, “If wild mans come, they eat
me, you go wey.” —‘ 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 eat, and a dram out of our
patron’s case of bottles, which I mentioned before; and we hauled the
boat in as near the shore as we thought was proper, and waded on
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 towards me. I thought he was pursued by some savage,
or frighted with some wild beast, and I ran forward towards him to
help him; but when I came nearer to him, I saw something hanging
over his shoulders, which was a creature that he had shot, like a-hare,
but different in colour, 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 afterwards 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 flows but a little way up; 80 we
filled our jars, and feasted on the hare we had killed, and prepared to
go on our way, having scen no footsteps of any human creature in that
part of the country.

As I had been one voyage to the coast before, I knew very well that
the islands of the Canaries, and the Cape de Verd islands also, lay not
far off from the coast. But as I had no instruments to take an obser-
vation to know what latitude we were in, and did not exactly know, or
at least not remember, what latitude they were in, and knew not where
to look for them, or when to stand off to sea towards them; otherwise
I might now easily have found some of these islands. But my hope
was, that if I stood along this coast till I came to that 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, that place where I now was, must be
that country, which, lying between the Emperor of Morocco’s domin-
ions and the Negroes, lies waste, and uninhabited, except by wild



wee ae

OF ROBEYSON CRUSOE. ~— 5



beasts; the Negroes having abandoned it, and gone farther south for
fear of the Moors; and the Moors not thiztking it worth inhabitmg,
by reason of its barrenness ; and, indeed, both forsaking it because of
the prodigious numbers of tigers, lions, leopards, and other furious
creatures which harbour there; so that the Moors use it for their hunt-
ing 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 howlings and roaring of wild beasts by night.

Once or twice in the day time I thought I saw the Pico of Teneriffe,
being the high top of the mountain Teneriffe in the Canaries; and had
a great mind to venture out in hopes of reaching thither; but having
tried twice, I was forced in again by contrary winds, the sea also going
too high for my little vessel; so I resolved to pursue my first 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, we
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 mine were, calls softly
to me, and tells me, that we had best go farther off the shore; “‘ For,”
says he, “look, yonder lies a dreadful monster, on the side of that
hillock, fast 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,
a little over him. “ Xury,” says I, “you shall go on shore and kill
him.” Xury looked frighted, and said, “Me kill! he eat me at one
mouth :” one mouthful he meant: however, I said no more to the boy,
but bade him lie 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 the 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 into the head, but he lay so with his leg raised a little.
above his nose, that the slugs hit his leg 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 upon three legs, and gave the most
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 immediatel
und though he began to move off, fired again, and shot him into,
head, and had the pleasure to see him drop, and make but little:
but lie struggling for life. Then Xury took heart, and would have ma .










58 THE LIFE AND :\DVENTURES



let him go on shore: “ Well, go,” said 1; 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 ear, and shot him into the head again, which despatched
him quite.

This was game indeed to us, but this was no food; and I was very
sorry to lose three charges of powder and shot upon a creature that
was good for nothing to us. However, Xury said he would have some
of him; so he comes on board, and asked me to give him the hatchet.—
“ For what, Xury ?”’ said I.—‘ Me cut off his head,” said he. How-
ever, Xury could not cut off his head, but he cut off a foot, and brought
it with him, and it was a monstrous great one.

I bethought myself, 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 Xury and I went to work with him; but Xury
was much the better workman at it, for I knew very ill how to do it.
Indeed, it took us both up the whole day, but at last we got off the
hide of him, and, spreading it on the top of our cabin, the sun effect-
ually dried it in two days’ time, and it afterwards served me to lie
upon.

CHAPTER III.

Make for the Southward, in hopes of meeting with some European vessel—See Savages
along shore—Shoot a large Leopard—Am taken up by a Merchantman—Arrive at
the Brazils, and buy a Settlement there—Cannot be quiet, but sail on a Voyage of
Adventure to Guinea—Ship strikes on a Sand-bank in unknown Land—All lost but
mystif, who am driven ashore, half-dead.

AFTER this stop, we made on to the southward continually for ten or
twelve days, living very sparing on our provisions, which began to abate
very much, and going uno oftener into the shore than we were obliged
to for fresh water; my design in this was, to make the river Gambia
or Senegal, that is to say, anywhere about the Cape de Verd, where 1
was in hopes to meet with some European ship; and if I did not, I
knew not what course I had to take, but to seek for the islands, or
perish there 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.

ea



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 59



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 three
places, as we sailed by, we saw people stand upon the shore. to look at _
us: we could also perceive that they were quite black, and stark naked.
I was once inclined to go 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 throw them a great way with good aim ,
so I kept at a distance, but talked with them by signs as well as 1
could, and particularly made signs for something to eat; they beckoned
to me to stop my boat, and they would fetch me 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 came back, and brought
with them two pieces of dry flesh and some corn, such as is the produce
of their country; but we neither knew what the one nor 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 towards the sea: whether it was the male pursuing the
female, or whether they were in sport or in rage, we coald: 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, thqse ravenous
creatures seldom appear but in the night; and, in the second place, we
found the people terribly frighted, 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 themselves
into the sea, and swam about as if they had come for-their diversion. At
last one of them began to come nearer our boat than at first I expected ;
but I. lay ready for him, for I had loaded my gun with all ‘possible .
expedition, and bade Xury load both the others. As soon, pache came
fairly within my reach I fired, und shot him directly into the head ;
immediately he sank down into thgywater, -but rose instantly: 9 ni









60 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES





plunged up and down as if he was struggling for life, and so indeed he
was: he immediately made to the shore; but between the wound, which
was his mortal hurt, and the strangling of the water, he died just before
he reached the shore.

It is impossible to express the astonishment of these poor creatures
at the noise and the 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 them 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, spotted and fine to an admirable
degree, and the negroes held up their hands with admiration to think
what it was I had killed him with.

The other creature, frighted 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 favour from me, which,
when I made signs to them that they might take him, they were very
thankful for. Immediately they fell to work with him, and though
they had no knife, yet with a sharpened piece of wood they took off his
skin, as readily and much more readily than we could have done with
a knife. They offered me some of the flesh, which I declined, making
as if I would give it them, but made signs for the skin, which they
gave me very frecly, and brought me a great deal more of their
provision, which, though I did not understand, yet I accepted; then
I made signs to them for some water, and held out one of my jars to
them, turning it bottom upward, to show that it was empty, and that I
wanted to have it filled. They called immediately to some of their
friends, and there came two women, and brought a great vessel made
of earth, and burned, as I suppose, in the sun; this they set down for
me, as before, and I sent Xury on shore with my jars, and filled them
all three. The women were as stark naked as the men.

I was now furnished with roots and corn, such as it was, and water;
and leaving my friendly Negroes, I made forward for about eleven days
more, without offering to go near the shore, till I saw the land run out
a great length into the sea, at about the distance of four or five leagues
vefore me; and the sea being very calm, I kept a large offing to make
this point: at length, doubling the point at about two leagues from
the land, I saw plainly land on the other side to sea-ward; then J





OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 61 .



concluded, as was most certain indeed, that this was the Cape de Verd,
and those the islands, called from thence Cape de Verd Islands,
However, they were at a great distance, and I could not tell what I
had best to do; for if I should be taken with a fresh of wind, I might
neither reach one nor the other.

In this dilemma, as I was very pensive, I stepped into the cabin .
and sat me down, Xury having the helm, when, on a sudden, the boy
cried out, “‘ Master, master, a ship with a sail!’’ and the foolish boy
was frighted out of his wits, thinking it must needs be some of his
master’s ships sent to pursue us, when I knew we were gotten far
enough out of their reach. I jumped out of the cabin, and imme-
diately saw, not only the ship, but what she was, namely, that it was a
Portuguese ship, and, as I thought, was bound to the coast of Guinea
for Negroes. But when I observed the course she steered, I was soon
convinced that they were bound some other way, and did not‘design to
come any nearer to the shore; upon which I stretched out to sea as
much as I could, resolving to speak with them, if possible.

With all the sail I could make, I found I should not be able to
come in their way, but that they would be gone by before I could
make any signal to them; but after I had crowded to the utmost, and
began to despair, they, it seems, saw me by the help of their perspec-
tive glasses, and that it was some European boat, which, as they
supposed, must belong to some ship that was lost; so they shortened
sail to let me come up. I was encouraged with this; and ag I had my
fatron’s ancient on board, I made a waft of it to them for a signal of
distress, and fired a gun, both which they saw, for they told me they
saw the smoke, though they did not hear the gun. Upon these signals
they very kindly brought to, and lay by for me, and, in about three
hours’ time, I came up with them.

They asked me what I was, in Portuguese, and in Spanish, and in
French; but I understood none of them: but, at last, a Scots sailor,
who was on board, called to me, and I answered him, and told him I
was an Englishman, that I had made my escape out of slavery from the
Moors at Sallee. They bade me come on board, and very kindly took
me in, and all my goods.

It was an inexpressible joy to me, as any one would believe, that I
was thus delivered, as I esteemed it, from such a miserable and almost
hopeless condition as I was in, and immediately offered all I had to the
captain of the ship, as a return for my deliverance; but he generously
told me, he would take nothing from me, but that all I had shouldbe ~
delivered safe to me when I came to the Brazils; ‘“ For,” says he, “I
have saved your life on no other terms than I would be glad to be’





‘lp 62 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

saved myself; and it may one time or other be my lot to be taken up
in the, § same condition: besides,” said he, “when I carry you to the
‘Br azils, 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 have given. No, no, Seignor Inglese,”’ says he, “ Mr.
Englishman, I will carry you thither in charity, and those things will
help you to buy your subsistence there, and your passage home
again.



As he was charitable in his proposal, so he was just in the perform-

ance to a tittle; for he ordered the seamen, that none should offer to
ouch any thing I had: then he took every thing into his own posses-

sion, and gave me back an exact inventory of them, that I might have
them: even so much as my 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 in every thing that I
could not offer to make any price of the boat, but left it entirely to
him; upon which he told me he would give me a note of his 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: he offered mé so

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. However, when I let him know my reason, he

owntd it to be just, and offered me this medium, that he would give

- the boy an obligation to set him free in ten years, if he turned Chris-

tian. Upon this, and Xury saying he was willing to go to him, I let
the captain have him.

We had a very good voyage to the Brazils, and arrived in the Bay
de Todos los Santos, or All Saints’ Bay, in about twenty-two days after.
And now I was once more delivered from the most miserable of all
conditions of life; and what to do next with myself I was now to
consider.

The generous 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 every thing I had in the ship to
be punctually delivered me; and what I was willing to sell he bought,
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; in 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.





OF ROBINSON .CRUSOE. 63

I had not been long here, but being recommended to the house of u
good honest man like himself, who had an ingeino, 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 their planting
and making of sugar; and seeing how well the planters lived, and how
they grew rich suddenly, I resolved, if I could get license to settle

there, I would turn planter among them; resolving, in the mean time, -

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 a letter of natural-
ization, I purchased as much land that was uncured as my money would
reach, and formed a plan for my plantation and settlement, and such
a one as might be suitable to the stock which I proposed to myself to
receive from England.

I had a neighbour, a Portuguese of Lisbon, but born of English
parents, whose name was Wells, and in much such circumstances as ]
was. I call him neighbour, 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 any thing else, for about
two years. However, we began to increase, and our land began te
com@ into order; so that the ‘third year we planted some tobacco, and
made each of us a large piece of ground ready for planting vanes 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

to

wonder: I had no remedy but to go on; I was gotten into an employ- . :

ment quite remote to my genius, and directly contrary to the life I
delighted in, and for which I forsook my father’s house, and broke
through all his good advice; nay, I was coming into the very middle
station, or upper degree of low life, which my father advised me to
before; 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 I had
done; and I used often to say to myself, I could have done this as well
in England among my friends, as have gone five thousand. miles off to
do it among strangers and savages in a wilderness, and at such 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-
bour; no work to be done but by the labour of my hands;; jand I ‘Miped
to say, I lived just like a man cast away upon some desolate i



that had nobody there but himself. But how just has ip been, and. b how .

should all. men reflect, that, when they pontgare their pres

en








de

64 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



with others that are worse, ‘Heaven may oblige them 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 exceeding 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
loading, and preparing for his voyage, near three months; when, tell-
ing him what little stock I had left behind me in London, he gave me
this friendly and sincere advice: ‘‘Seignor Inglese,” says he, for so
he always called me, “if you will give me letters, and a procuration
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 first; so that if it comes safe, you
may order the rest the same way; and if it miscarry, you may have
the other half to have recourse to for your supply.”

This was so wholesome advice, and looked so friendly, that I could
not but be convinced it was the best course I could take; so I accord-
ingly prepared letters to the gentlewoman with whom I had left my
money, and a procuration to the Portuguese captain, as he desired.

I wrote the English captain’s widow a full account of all my adven-
tures, my slavery, escape, and how I had met with the Portugal cap-
tain at sea, the humanity of his behaviour, and what condition I was
now in, with all other necessary directions for my supply ; and when
this honest captain came to Lisbon, he found means, by some of the
English merchants there, to send over, not the order only, but a full
account of my story, to a merchant at London, who represented it
effectually to her; whereupon, she not only delivered the money, but,
out of her own pocket, sent the Portugal captain a very handsome pre-
sent for his humanity and charity to me.

The merchant in London vesting this hundred pounds in English
goods, such as the captain had writ for, sent them directly to him at
Lisbon, and he brought them all safe to me to the Brazils; among
which, without my direction (for I was too young in my business to
think o* them), he had taken care to have all sort of tools, iron-work,





OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 65



and utensils necessary for my plantation, and which were of great use
to me.

When this cargo arrived, I thought my fortune made, for I was sur-
prised with joy of it; and my good steward, the captain, had laid out
the five pounds, which my friend had sent him for a present for him-
self, to purchase, and bring me over a servant under bond for six years’
service, and would not accept of any consideration, except a little
tobacco, which I would have him accept, being of my own produce.

Neither was this all; but my goods being all English manufactures,
such as cloth, stuffs, baize, and things particularly valuable and desira-
ble in the country, I found means to sell them to a very great advan-
tage; so that I may say, I had more than four times the value of my
first cargo, and was now infinitely beyond my poor neighbour, I mean
in the advancement of my plantation; for the first thing I did, I
bought me a Negro slave, and an European servant also; I mean
another besides that which the captain brought me from Lisbon.

But as abused prosperity is oftentimes made the means of our
greatest adversity, so was it with me. I went on the next year with
great success in my plantation: I raised fifty great rolls of tobacco on
my own ground, more than I had disposed of for necessaries among
my neighbours; and these fifty rolls, being each of above a hundred
weight, were well cured and laid by against the return of the fleet from
Lisbon. And now, increasing in business and in wealth, my head
began to be full of projects and undertakings beyond my reach; such
as are, indeed, often the ruin of the best heads in 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 quiet retired life, and of which he had so sensibly
described the middle station of life to be full; but 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 my-
self, which in my future sorrows I should have leisure to make, all
these miscarriages were procured by my apparent obstinate adhering
to my foolish inclination of wandering abroad, and pursuing that in-
clination, in contradiction to the clearest views of doing myself good
in a fair and plain pursuit of those prospects and those measynes of ©
I'fe, which nature and Providence concurred to present me wit;’and K
to make my duty.

As I had done thus in my breaking away from my pagents, so I
could not be content now, but I must go and leave the happy view _
had of being a rich and thriving man in my new plantatiog,. 1¥. 80°
pursue a rash and immoderate desire of rising faster. than. t but

5







66 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

of the thing admitted; and thus I cast myself down again into the
deepest gulf of human misery that ever man fell into, or perhaps could
be consistent with life and a state of health in the 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 upon my
plantation, I had not only learned the language, but had contracted
acquaintance and friendship among my fellow planters, as well as
among the merchants at St. Salvadore, which was our port; and that
in my discourse among them, I had frequently given them an account
of my two voyages to the coast of Guinea, the manner of trading with
the Negroes there, and how easy it was to purchase upon 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
heads, but especially to that part which related to the buying Negroes,
which was a trade at that time not only not far entered into, but, as
far as it was, had been carried on by the assientos, or permission, of
the kings of Spain and Portugal, and engrossed in the public, so that
few Negroes were bought, and those excessive dear.

It happened, being in company with some merchants and planters
of my acquaintance, and talking of those things very earnestly, three
of them came to me the next morning, and told me, they had been
musing very much upon what I had discoursed with them of the last
night, and they came to make a secret proposal to me; and, after en-
joining me secrecy, they told me, that they had a mind to fit out a
ship to go to Guinea; that they had all plantations as well as I, and
were straitened for nothing so much as servants; that as it was a
trade could not be carried on, because they could not publicly sell the
Negroes when they came home, so they desired to make but one voy-
age, to bring the Negroes on shore privately, and divide them among
their own plantations; and, in a word, the question was, whether T
would go their supercargo in the ship, to manage the trading part upon
the coast of Guinea? cnd they offered me, that I should have my 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 had 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 for me, that was thus entered
and established, and had nothing to do but go on as I had begun, for
three or fuur years more, and to have sent for the other hundred

—.



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. «67



pounds from England, and who, in that time and with that little addi-
tion, could scarce have failed of being worth three or four thousand
pounds sterling, and that increasing too,—for me to think of such a
voyage, was the most preposterous thing that ever man in such cir-
cumstances 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, I 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, disposing
of my plantation and effects, in case of my death, making the captain
of the ship, that had saved my life as before, my universal heir, but
obliging him to dispose of my effects as I had directed in my will, one
half of the produce being to himself, and the other to be shipped to
England.

In short, I took all possible caution to preserve my effects, and keep
up my plantation: had I used half as much prudence to have looked
into my own interest, and have made a judgment of what I ought to
have done, and not to have done, I had certainly never gone away
from so prosperous an undertaking, leaving all the probable views of
a thriving circumstance, and gone upon a voyage to sea, attended with
all its common hazards; to say nothing of the reasons I had to expect
particular misfortunes to myself.

But I was hurried on, and obeyed blindly the dictates of my fancy,
rather than my reason: and accordingly, the ship being fitted out, and
the cargo furnished, and all things done as by agreement by my part-
ners in the voyage, I went on board in an evil hour again, the Ist of
September, 1659, being the same day eight years that I ‘went: from
my father and mother at Hull, in order to act the rebel to their’ ‘autho-
rity, and the fool to my own interest.

Our ship was about one hundred and twenty tons 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 little looking-glasses, knives, scissors, hatchets,
and the like.

The same day I went on board we set sail, stax
northward upon our own coast, with design to stretch,
African coast; when they came about ten or twelve degreés.a
latitude, hich, it seems, was the manner of their course in ht












68 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

We had very good weather, only excessive hot, all the way upon our
vwn coast, till we came to the height of Cape St. Augustino, from
whence keeping farther off at sea, we lost sight of land, and steered as
if we were bound for the isle Fernand de Noronha, holding our course
north-east by north, and leaving those isles on the east. In this
course we passed the line in about twelve days’ time, and were, by
our last observation, in seven degrees twenty-two minutes northern
latitude, when a violent tornado, or hurricane, took us quite out of our
knowledge: it began from the south-east, came about to the north-west,
and then settled into the north-east; 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 whither ever fate
and the fury of the winds directed; and during those 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, one of our
men died of the calenture, and one man and the 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
he was gotten upon the coast of Guinea, or the north part of Brazil,
beyond the river Amazons, toward that of the river Oroonoque, com-
monly called the Great River, and began to consult with me what
course he should take; for the ship was leaky, and very much disabled,
and he was going directly back to the coast of Brazil.

I was positively against that, and, looking over the charts of the
sea-coasts of America with him, we concluded, there was no inhabited
country for us to have recourse to, till we came within the circle of
the Caribbee Islands; and therefore resolved to stand away for Bar-
badoes, which, by keeping off at sea, to avoid the indraft of the bay or
gulf of Mexico, we might easily perform, as we hoped, in about fifteen
days’ sail; whereas we could not possibly make our voyage to the
coast of Africa, without some assistance, both to our ship and ourselves.

With this design we changed our course, and steered away north-
west by west, in order to reach some of our English islands, where I
hoped for relief: but our voyage was otherwise determined; for, being
in the 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 danger of bemg
devoured by savages than ever returning to our own country.





OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 69



In this distress, the wind still blowing very hard, one of our men,
early in the morning, cried out, “‘Land!’’ and we had no sooner run
out of the cabin to look out, in hopes of seeing whereabouts in the
world we were, but the ship struck upon a sand, and, in a moment,
her motion being so stopped, the sea broke over her in such a manner
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
inhabited ; 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 winds, by a kind
of miracle, should turn immediately about. In a word, we sat looking
one upon another, and expecting death every moment, and every man
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 com-
fort, 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 wind did a little abate, yet the
ship having thus struck upon the sand, and sticking too fast for us to
expect her getting off, we were in a dreadful condition indeed, and had
nothing to do but to think of saving our lives as well as we could. We
had a boat at our stern just before the storm; but she was first staved
by dashing against the ship’s rudder, and, in the next place, she broke
away, and either sunk or was driven off to sea; so there was no hope
from her. We had another boat on board, but how to get her off into
the sea was a doubtful thing; however, there was no room to debate,
for we fancied the ship would break in pieces every minute, and some
told us she was actually broken already. ae
In this distress, the mate of our vessel lays hold of the boat, and
with the help of the rest of the men they got her slung over the ship’s
side, an, getting all into her, let go, and committed ourselves, . being
eleven in number, to God’s mercy and the wild sea; for though :the; i
storm was abated considerably, yet the sea went dreadful high 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 ali-saw ‘plainly,
tha* the sea went so high that the boat eanld not live, wad. th










70 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

should be inevitably drowned. As to making sail, we had none, nor,
if we had, could we have done any thing with it; so we worked at the
oar towards the land, though with heavy hearts, like men going to
execution ; for we all knew, that when the boat came nearer the shore,
she would be dashed in a thousand pieces by the breach of the sea.
However, we committed our souls to God in the most earnest manner;
and the wind driving us towards the shore, we hastened our destruction
with our own hands, pulling as well as we could towards land.

What the shore was, whether rock or sand, whether steep or shoal,
we knew not; the only hope that could rationally give us the least
shadow of expectation was, if we might happen into some bay or gulf,
or the mouth of some river, where, by great chance, we might have
run our boat in, or got under the lee of the land, and perhaps made
smooth water. But there was nothing of this appeared; but, as we
made nearer and nearer the shore, the land looked more frightful than
the sea.

After we had rowed, or rather driven, about a league and a half, as
we reckoned it, a raging wave, mountain-like, came rolling astern of
us, and plainly bade us expect the coup-de-grace. In a word, it took
us with such a 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 O God! for we were all swallowed up in a moment.

Nothing can describe the confusion of thought which I felt when I

- sank into the water; for though I swam very well, yet I could not
deliver myself from the waves so as to draw breath, till that wave hav-
ing driven me, or rather carried me, a vast way on towards the shore,
and, having spent itself, went back, and left me upon the land almost
dry, but half dead with the water I took in. I had so much presence
of mind, as well as breath left, that seeing myself nearer the mainland
than I expected, I got upon my feet, and endeavoured to make on
towards the land as fast as I could, before another wave should return
and take meup again. But I soon found it was impossible to avoid it ;
for I saw the sea come after me as high as a great hill, and as furious
as an enemy, which I had no means or strength to contend with. My
business was to hold my breath, and raise myself upon the water, if I
could; and so, by swimming, to preserve my breathing, and pilot my-
self towards the shore, if possible; my greatest’: concern now being,
that the sea, as it would carry mea great way towards the shore
when it came on, might not carry me back again with it when it gave
back towards the sea.

The wave that came upon me again, buried me at once twenty oz
thirty feet deep in its own body ; and I could feel myself carricd with



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. T1



a mighty force and swiftness towards the shore a very great way; but,
I held my breath, and assisted myself to swim still forward with all my
might. I was ready to burst, with holding my breath, when, as I felt
myself rising up, so, to my immediate relief, I found my head and
hands shoot out above the surface of the water; and though it was
not two seconds of time that I could keep myself so, yet it relieved
me greatly, gave me breath and new courage. I was covered agin
with water a good while, but not so long but I held it out ; and, findmg
the water had spent itself, and began to return, I struck forward
against the return of the waves, and felt ground again with my feet.
I stood still a few moments to recover breath, and till the water went
from me, and then took to my heels, and ran with what strength I had
farther towards the shore. But neither would this deliver me from
the fury of the sea, which came pouring in after me again; and twice
more I was lifted up by the waves, and carried forwards as before, the
shore being very flat.

The last time of these two had well near been fatal to me; for the
sea, having hurried me along as before, landed me, or rather dashed
me, against a piece of a rock, and that with such force as it left me
senseless, 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 -
body; and, had it returned again immediately, I must have been
strangled in the water; but I recovered a little before the return of
the waves, and, seeing I should be covered again with the water, I
resolved 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 at first, being near land, I held my hold till the wave abated,
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 swallow 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 clifts 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, scarce 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 very grave; and I do not
wonder, now, at that custom, namely, 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 telk -

te





"2 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



him of it, that the surprise may not drive the animal spirits from the
heart, and overwhelm him:
For sudden joys, like griefs, confound at first.

I walked about on the shore, lifting up my hands and my whole
heing, as I may say, wrapt up in the contemplation of my deliverance,
making a thousand gestures and motions which I cannot describe:
reflecting upon all my comrades that were drowned, and that there
should not be one soul saved but myself; for, as for them, I never saw
them afterwards, or any sign of them, except three of ee hats, one
cap, and two shoes, that were not fellows.

I cast my eyes to the stranded vessel, when, the breach and froth of
the sea being so big, I could hardly see it, it lay so far off, and con-
sidered, 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 round me, to see what kind of 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 any thing either to eat or drink to comfort
me; neither did I see any prospect before me, but that 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 this threw me into
terrible agonies of mind, that, for a while, I ran about like a madman.
Night coming upon me, I began, with a heavy heart, to consider what
would be my lot if there were any ravenous 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. I 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 in my mouth to prevent hunger, I went to the tree, and
getting up into it, endeavoured to place myself so, as that if I should
sleep 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 occasion.





OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 73



CHAPTER IV.

Appearance of the Wreck and Country next day—Swim on board of the Ship, and, by
means of a contrivance, get a quantity of Stores on Shore—Shoot a Bird, but it
turns out perfect Carrion—Moralize upon my Situation—The Ship blown off Land,
and totally lost—Set out in search of a proper Place for a Habitation—See numbers
of Goats—Melancholy Reflections.

Wuew I waked it was broad day, the weather clear, and the storm
abated, so that the sea did not rage and swell as before: but that
which surprised me most, was, that the ship was lifted off in the night
from the sand where she lay, by the swelling of the tide, and was
driven up almost as far as the rock which I first mentioned, where I
had been so bruised by the dashing me against it; this being within
about a mile from the shore where I was, and the ship seeming to
stand upright still, I wished myself on board, that, at least, I might
save some necessary things for my use.

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 the sea had tossed her up upon the Jand, about two miles on
my right hand. J 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 ebbed
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 miserable 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 that,
I resolved, if possible, to get to the ship; so I pulled off 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 a rope, which I
wondere’ I did not see at firat, hang down by the fore-chains, so low

oth da alain Tk. iret eae








4 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



as that with great difficulty I got hold of it, and, by the help of that
rope, got up into the forecastle of the ship. Here I found that the
ship was bulged, and had a great deal of water in her hold, but that
she lay so on the side of a bank of hard sand, or rather earth, and 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 first I found that all
the ship’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 about other things, for I had
no time to lose. I also found some rum in the great cabin, of which I
took a large dram, and which I had indeed need enough of to spirit me
for what was before me. Now I wanted nothing but a boat to furnish
mysclf 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; I resolved to fall to work with these, and flung as many of
them overboard as I could manage of their weight, tying every one
with a rope, that 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 laying two or thfee short pieces of plank upon them cross-
ways, I found I could walk upon it very well, but that it was not able
to bear any great weight, the pieces being teo light; so I went to work,
and, with the carpepter’s saw, I cut a spare topmast into three lengths, °
and added them to my raft, with a great deal of labour and pains ; but
hope of furnishing myself with necessaries encouraged me to go
beyond what I should have been able to have: done upon another
occasion. :

My raft was now strong enough to bear any reasonable weight: my
next care was what to load it with, and how to preserve what I laid
upon it from the surf of the sea; but 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 first got three of the
seamen’s chests, which I had broken open and emptied, and lowered
them down upon my raft. The first of these I filled with provisions,
namely, bread, rice, three Dutch cheeses, five pieces of dried goat’s
flesh, which we lived much upon, and a little remainder of Europeau
corn, which had been laid by for some fowls which we brought to sea



|
Ls Nam
a

it i

lh





ASS 1

CRUSOE LOADING HIS RAFT. 5



\
76 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



with us, but the fowls were killed. There had been some barley and
wheat together, but, to my great disappointment, I found afterwards
that the rats had eaten or spoiled it all. As for liquors, I found
several cases of bottles belonging to our skipper, in which were some
cordial waters, and in all above five or six gallons of rack: these I
stowed by themselves, there being no need to put them into the chest,
nor no room for them. While I was doing this, I found the tide
‘egan to flow, though very calm, and I had the mortification to see my
coat, shirt, and waistcoat, which I had left on shore upon the sand,
swim away; as for my breeches, which were only linen, and open-
kneed, I swam'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, firsty tools to work with on shore ; and it was
after long searching that I found out the carpenter’s chest, which was
indeed a very useful prize to me, and much more valuable than a ship-
loading 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 two
very good fowling-pieces in the great cabin, and two pistols: these I
secured first, with some powder-horns, and a small bag of shot, and
two old rusty swords. I knew there were three barrels of powder in
the ship, but knew not where our gunner had stowed them; but with
much search I found them, two of them dry and good, the third had
taken water; those two I got to my raft, with the arms. And now I
thought myself pretty well freighted, and began to think how I should
get to shore with them, having neither sail, oar, nor rudder, and the
least capful of wind would have overset all my navigation.

I had three encouragements: 1. A smooth, calm sea; 2. The tide
rising and setting in to the shore; 38. Whai 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 te
sea. For a mile, or thereabouts, my raft went very well, only that I
found it drive a little distant from the place where I had landed be-
fore; by which I perceived that there was some indraft 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
uf 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 keep in the middle of the stream;



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. TT

but here I had like to have suffered a second shipwreck, which, if I
had, I think verily would have broke my heart; for, knowing nothing
of the coast, my raft run 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 towards 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 the raft
with all my strength; neither durst I stir from the posture I was in,
but, holding up the chests with all my might, stood in that manner
near half an hour, in which time the rising of the water brought me a
little more upon a level; and, a little after, the water still rising, 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 resolved to
place myself as near the coast as I could.

At length I spied a little cove on the right shore of the creek, to
which, with great pain and difficulty, I guided my raft, and at last got
so near, as that, reaching ground with my oar, I could thrust her di- °
rectly in; but here I had like to have dipped all my cargo in 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 the float, if it run on shore,
would lie so 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 anchor, 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 on upon that flat piece of ground, and there fastened, or moored
her, by sticking my two broken oars into the ground; one on one side,
near one end, and one on the other side, near the other end; and thus
T lay till the water ebbed away, and left my raft and all my ree safe
on 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 what-
ever might happen. Where I was, I yet knew not; whether on ‘the:

continent or on an island—whether inhabited or not inhabjted—whe- ee





ther in danger of wild beasts or not. There was a hill, nok’
mile from me, which rose up very steep and high, and whieh
to overtop some other hills which lay as in a ridge from it noi







78 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



I took out 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 had with great labour and difficulty got to the
top, I saw my fate to my great affliction; namely, that I was in an
island, environed every way with the sea,—no land to be seen, except
some rocks which lay a great way off, and two small islands less than
this, which lay about 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 which, how-
ever, I saw none; yet I saw abundance of fowls, but knew not their
kinds; 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 was
the first gun that had been fired there since the creation of the world.
T had no sooner fired, but, from all parts of the wood, there arose an
innumerable number of fowls of many sorts, making a confused scream-
ing, and crying every one according to his usual note; but not one of
them of any kind that I knew. As for the creature I killed, I took
it to be a kind of a hawk, its colour and beak resembling it, but had
no talons, or claws, more than common; its flesh 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 up the rest of that
day; and what to do with myself at night I 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 afterwards found,
there was really no need for those fears.

However, as well as I could, I barricadoed myself round with the
chests and boards that I had brought on shore, and made a kind of a
hut for 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 where 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 some 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 possible ;
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 every
thing 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 raft; but
this appeared impracticable; so I resolved to go as before, when the
tide was down, and I did so, only that I stripped before I went from



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. “ 19.





my hut, having nothing on but a checked shirt and a pair of linen
trowsers, and a pair of pumps on my feet.

I got on board the ship as before, and prepared a second raft; and
having had experience of the first, I neither made this so unwieldy,
nor loaded it so hard, but yet I brought away several things very use-
ful to me; as first, in the carpenter’s stores, I found two or three bags
full of nails and spikes, a great screw-jack, a dozen or two of hatchets,
and, above all, that most useful thing called a grindstone: all these I
secured, together with several things belonging to the gunner, particu-
larly two or three iron crows, and two barrels of musket-bullets, seven
muskets, and another fowling-piece, with some small quantity of powder
more; a large bag full of small shot, and a great roll of sheet lead;
but this last was so heavy, I could not hoist it up to get it over the
ship’s side.

Besides these things, I took all the men’s clothes that I could find,
and a spare fore-top-sail, hammock, and some bedding; and with this
I loaded my second raft, and brought them all safe on shore, to my
very great comfort. .

I was under some apprehensions, during my absence from the land,
that at least my provisions might be devoured on shore; but, when I
came back, I found no sign of any visiter, only there sat a creature,
like a wild cat, upon one of the chests, which, when I came towards
it, ran away a little distance, and then stood still: she sat very com-
posed and unconcerned, and looked full in my face, as if she had a
mind to be acquainted with me. I presented my gun at her, but as
she did not understand it, she was perfectly unconcerned at it, nor did
she offer to stir away ; upon which I tossed her a bit of biscuit, though,
by the way, I was not very free of it, for my store was not great:
however, I spared her a bit, I say, and she went to it, smelled of it,
and ate it, and looked, as pleased, for more; but I thanked her, and
could spare no more; so she marched off.

Having got my second cargo 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 every thing 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 pistols just at





80 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

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; as the
night before I had slept little, and had laboured very hard all day, as
well to fetch all those things from the ship, as to get them on shore.

T had the biggest magazine of all kinds now 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
out 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 I could, as also all
the small ropes and rope-twine I could get, with a piece of spare can-
vas, which was to mend the sails upon occasion, and the barrel of wet
gunpowder: in a word, I brought away all the sails first and last, only
that I was fain to cut them in pieces, and bring as much at a time as I
could; for they were no more useful to be sails, but as mere canvas
only.

But that which comforted me still more was, that last of all, after I
had made five or six such voyages as these, and thought I had nothing
more to expect from the ship that was worth my meddling with,—I
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 soor
emptied the hogshead of that bread, and wrapped it up parcel by par-
cel, in pieces of the sails, which I 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, I began with the
cables; and cutting the great cable into pieces such as I could move,
I got two cables and a hawser on shore, with all the iron-work I could
get; and, having cut down the spritsail-yard, and the mizen yard, and
every thing I could to make a 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 unwieldly and overladen, that, after I had
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 myself, it was no
great harm, for I was near the shore ; but as to my cargo, it was,
great part of it, lost, especially the iron, which I expected would have
heen of great use to me: however, when the tide was out, I got most
of the pieces of cable ashore, and some of the iron, though with infi-
nite labour; for I was fain to dip for it into the water, a work which



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. _ Ro ee

ee
fatigued me very much. After this, I went every day on board, and
Brana away what I could get. “
1 had been now thirteen days on shore, and had been alérai ‘times
on board the ship; in which time I had brought away all that one
pair of hands could well be supposed capable to bring, though I believe
verily, had the calm held, I should have brought away the whole ship,
piece by piece: but, preparing the twelfth time to go on board, I
found the wind began to rise; however, at low water, I went on board,
and though I thought I had rummaged the cabin so effectually, as that
nothing more could be found, yet I discovered a locker with drawers
in it, in one of which I found two or three razors, and one pair of
large scissors, with some ten or a dozen of good knives and forks; in
another I found about thirty-six pounds value in money, some Euro-
pean coin, some Brazil, some pieces of eight, some gold, some silver.
I smiled to myself at the sight of this money. ‘‘O drug!” said-I,
aloud, “‘what art thou good for? thou art not worth tc me—no, not
the taking off of the ground ; one of those knives is worth all this heap ;
I have no manner of use for thee; even remain where thou art, and
go to the bottom, as a creature whose life is not worth saving.”

However, upon second thoughts, I took it away, and. wrapping all this:

in a piece of canvas, I began to think of making another raft; but,

while I was 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 of flood began, 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 with difficulty enough, partly with the.weight.

of things I had about me, and partly the roughness of. the water, for
the wind rose very hastily, and, before it was quite high water, it blew a:
storm.

But I was gotten 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 tobe

seen! I was a little surprised, but recovered myself. with: this satisfac. 3

tory reflection, namely, that I had lost no time, nor abated no diliz’ ”
gence, to get every thing out of her that could be useful to: cme, and
that, indeed there was little left in her that-I.was able to one away,’
if I had had more time.

T now gave over.any more thoughts. of the ship, or of any; edthig out

of her, except what might drive on shore from her wreck, aa, indesd,
6 s : . ay







82 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

divers pieces ef her afterwards did; but those things were of small
use to me. ;

My thoughts were now wholly employed about securmg myself
against either savages, if any should appear, or wild beasts, if any
were in the island; and I had many thoughts of the method how to
do this, and what kind of dwelling to make,—whether I should make
me a cave in the earth, or a tent upon the earth: and, in short, T
resolved upon both, the manner and description of which it may not
be improper to give an account of.

I soon found the place I was in was not for my settlement, particu-
larly because it was upon a low moorish ground near the sea, and I
believed would not be wholesome, and more particularly because there
was no fresh water near it; so I resolved to find a more healthy and
more convenient spot of ground.

I consulted several things in my situation which I found would be
proper for me: Ist, Health and fresh water I just now mentioned.
2dly, Shelter from the heat of the sun. 3dly, Security from ravenous
creatures, whether man or beast. 4thly, A view of the sea, that, if
God sent any ship jn sight, I might not lose any advantage 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
side of a rising hill, whose front towards this little plain was steep as
a house-side, 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 long, and lay like a green before my door, and at the
end of it descended irregularly every way down into the low grounds
by the sea-side. It was on the north-north-west side of the hill, so
that I was sheltered from the heat every day, till it came to a west-
and-by-south sun, or thereabouts, which in those countries is near the
setting.

Before I set up my tent, I drew a half-circle before the hollow
place, which took in about ten yards in its semi-diameter, from the
rock, and twenty yards in its diameter from its beginning and ending,

In this half-circle, 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 foot and a half, and sharpened
on the top: the twe rows did not stand above six inches from one
another.



OF ROBINSON ORUSOE. 83°



Then I took the pieces of cable which Thad 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,
leaning against them, about two foot 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 labour,
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
over after me: and so I was completely fenced in, and fortified, as I
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 from the enemies that
I apprehended danger from.

Into this fence, or fortress, with infinite labour, I carried all my
riches, all my provisions, ammunition, and stores, of which you have
the account above; and I made me a large tent, which, to preserve me
from the rains, that, in one part of the year, are very violent there, I
made double, namely, one smaller tent within, and one larger tent
above it, and covered the uppermost with a large tarpaulin, which I
had 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 hammock, which was, indeed, a very good one, and
belonged to the mate of the ship.

Into this tent I brought all my provisions, and every thing that
would spoil by the wet; and having thus enclosed all my goods, I made
up the entrance, which, till now, I had left open, and so passed and
repassed, 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, that

so 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 F

house.

It cost me much labour and many days before all these things were

brought to perfection; and, therefore, I must go back to sie
things which took up some of my thoughts. At the same time; it
parted after I had laid my scheme for the setting up my te



making the cave, that a storm of rain falling from a thick dark‘eloud, ©

a sudden flash of lightning happened, and after that age
thunder, as is naturally the effect-of it. I was not so much

é










-
ba







84 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



with the lightning, as I was with a thought which darted into my mind,
as swift as the lightning itself: Oh, my powder! my very heart sank
within me, when I thought that, at one blast, all my powder might be
destioyed, on which, not my defence only, but the providing me food,
as I thought, entirely depended: I was nothing near so anxious about
my own danger; though, had the powder took fire, I had never known
who 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 applied
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 in not less than a
hundred parcels. As to the barrel that had been wet, I did not appre-
hend 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 down in
holes among the rocks, so that no wet might come to it, marking very
carefully where I laid it.

In the interval of time while this was doing, I went out once at least
every day with my gun, as well to divert myself, as to see if I could
kill any thing fit for food, and, as near as I could, to acquaint myself
with what the island produced. The first time I went out, I presently
discovered that there were goats in the island, which was a great satis-
faction to me; but then, it was attended with this misfortune to me,
namely, that they were so shy, so subtle, and so swift of foot, that it
was the most difficult thing in the. world to come at them. But I was
not discouraged at this, not doubting but I might now and then shoot
one, as it soon happened; for, after I had found their haunts a little,
I laid wait in this manner for them: I observed, if they saw me in the
valleys, though they were upon the rocks, they would run away as in
a terrible fright; but if they were feeding in the valleys, and I was
upon the rocks, they took no notice of me; from whence I concluded,
that, by the position of their optics, their sight was so directed down-
ward, that they did not readily see objects that were above them; s0
afterwards I took this method: I always climbed the rocks first, to get
above them, and then had frequently a fair mark. The first shot I
made among these creatures I killed a she-goat, which had a little kid
by her which she gave suck to, which grieved me heartily; but when
the old one fell, the kid stood stock still by her till I came and took
her up; and not only so, but, when I carried the old one with me upon



OF «ROBINSON CRUSOE. “®d



my shoulders, the kid follcwed me quite to my enclosure ; upon which
I laid down the dam, and took the kid in my arms, and carried it over
my pale, in hopes to have bred it up tame; but it would not eat, so 1
was forced to kill it, and eat it myself. These two supplied me witk
flesh 4 great while, for I ate sparingly, and saved my provisions (my
bread especially) as much as possibly I could.

Having now fixed my habitation, I found it absolutely necessary tc
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 place; but I must first give
some little account of myself, and of my thoughts about living, which,
it may well be supposed, were not a few.

I had a dismal prospect of my condition; for, as I was not cast
away upon that island without being driven, as is said, by a violent
storm, quite out of the course of our intended voyage, and a great.
way, namely, some hundred of leagues out of the ordinary course of
the trade of mankind, I had great reason to consider it as a determin-
ation of Heaven, that, in this desolate place, and in this desolate man-
ner, I should end my life. The tears would run plentifully down my
face when I made these reflections ; and sometimes I would expostulate
with myself, why Providence should thus completely ruin his creatures,
and render them so absolutely miserable, so without help abandoned,
so entirely depressed, that it could hardly be rational to be thankful
for such a life.

But something always returned swift upon me to check these thoughts,
and to reprove me; and, particularly, one day walking, with my gun
in my hand, by the sea-side, I was very pensive upon the subject of
my present condition, when reason, as it were, expostulated with me
the other way, thus :—‘“ Well, you are in a desolate condition, it is
true; but, pray, remember, where are the rest of you? Did not you
come eleven of you into the boat? Where are the ten? Why were
they not saved, and you lost? Why were you singled out? Isit'bettér
to be here or there ?’”” And then I pointed to the:sea. All evils-are ~~
to be considered with the good that is in them, and with what worse
attended them. “OR

Then it occurred to me again, how well I was furnished for my sub-
sistence, and what would have been my case if it had not happened,
which was an hundred thousand to one, that the ship floated from the

.place where she first struck, and was driven so near the shore, that I had
time to get all these things out of her. What would have been
if I had been to have lived in the condition in which T at first
‘shore, without necessaries of life, or necessaries to supply and pi











86 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES





them? “Particularly,” said I, loud, though to myself, ‘‘ what should
[ have done without a gun, without ammunition, without any tools to
make any thing, or to work with; without clothes, bedding, a tent, or
any manner of covering?” and that now I had all these to a sufficient
qua atity, and was in a fair way to provide myself in such’a manner,
as to live without my gun when my ammunition 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, how I should provide for the
accidents that might happen, and for the time that was to come, even
not only after my ammunition should be spent, but even after my
health or strength should decay.

I confess I had not entertained any notion of my ammunition being
. destroyed at one blast, I mean, my powder being blown up by light-
ning; and this made the thoughts of it so surprising to me when it
lightened and thundered, as I observed just now.

And now, being about to enter into a melancholy relation of a scene
of silent life, such, perhaps, as was never heard of in the world before,
I shall take it from its beginning, and continue it in its order. It was,
by my account, the 30th of September, when, in the manner as above
‘said, I first set foot upon this horrid 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 the latitude of nine degrees twenty-
two minutes north of the line.

After I had been there about ten or twelve days, it came into my.
thoughts, that I should lose my reckoning of time for want of books,
and pen and ink, and should even forget the Sabbath days from the
working days; but, to prevent this, I cut it with my knife upon a large
post, in capital letters, and making it into a great cross, I set it up on
-the shore where I first landed, namely, I came on shore here on the
30th of September, 1659. Upon the sides of this square post, I cut
every 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 kept my calendar, or weekly, monthly, and
yearly reckoning of time.

In the next place, we are to observe, that, among the many things
which 1 brought out 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 omitted setting down before ; as, in par-
ticular, pens, ink, and paper, several parcels in the captain’s, mate’s,
gunner’s, and carpenter's keeping, three or four compasses, some
mathematical instruments, dials, perspectives, charts, and books of
pavigation, all which I huddled together, whether I might want them



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ; 87

or no. Also, I found three very good Bibles, which came to me in
my cargo from England, and which [ had packed up among my things ;
some Portuguese books also, and among them two or three Pupish
prayer books, and several other books: ‘all which I carefully 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 me; and as for the dog, he
jumped out of the ship of himself, and swam on shore to me the day
after I went on shore with my first cargo, and was a trusty servant to
me many years: I wanted nothing that he could fetch me, nor any
company that he could make up to me; I only wanted to have him
talk to me, but that he could not do. AsI observed before, I found
pen, ink, and paper, and I husbanded 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 puts me in mind that I wanted many things, notwithstand-
ing all that I had amassed together; and of these, this of ink was
one, as also spade, pick-axe, and shovel, to dig or remove the earth;
needles, pins, and thread. As for linen, I soon learned to want that
without much difficulty.

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, dr
surrounded habitation: the piles, or stakes, which were as heavy as I
could well lift, were a long time in cutting and preparing in the
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
day 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, yet it made driving those
posts, or piles, very laborious and tedious work. +

But what need I have been concerned at the, tediousness of any
thing I had to do, seeing I had time enough to doitin? Nor had I
any other employment, if that had been over, att: ‘least that I could
foresee, except the ranging the island to seek for “food, which I did
more or less every day. ea

I now began to consider seriously my condition, and the circum-

stances I was reduced to, and I drew up the state of my affairs in

writing, not so much to leave them to any that were to come after me

(for I was like to have but few heirs), as to deliver my, thoughts’ frota :

daily poring upon them, and afflicting my mind; and as my reason
began now to master my despondency; F began to comfort myself ax



Xa







88 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

well as I could, and to set the good against the evil, that I might have
‘something to distinguish my case from worse; and I stated it very

impartially, like debtor and creditor, the comforts I enjoyed against

the miseries I suffered, thus :-—

EVIL.

I am cast upon a horrible deso-
late island, void of all hope of re-
covery.

I am singled out and separated,
as it were, from all the world, to
be miserable.

I am divided from mankind, a
solitaire, one banished from hu-
nan society.

I have no clothes to cover me.

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

Ihave no soul to speak to, or
relieve me.

GooD.
But I am alive, and not drown-
ed, as all my ship’s company was.

But I am singled out, too, from
all the ship’s crew to be spared
from death; and He that mira-
culously saved me from death, can
deliver me from this condition.

But I am not starved and per-
ishing on a barren place, affording
no sustenance.

But I am in a hot climate,
where, if I had clothes, 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 Afri-
ca: and what if I had been ship-
wrecked there ?

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

Upon the whole, here was an undoubted testimony, that there was

scarce any condition in the world so miserable, but there was some-
thing negative or something po:sive to be thankful for in it; and let
this stand as a direction from the experience of the most miserable of
all conditions in this world, that we may always find in it something
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 my condition, and
given over looking out to sea, to see if I could spy a ship,—I say,



OF- ROBINSON ORGSOE: - 89



giving 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.

T have already described my habitation, which was a tent, under the
side of.a rock, surrounded with a strong pale of posts and cables; but
I might now rather call it a wall, for I raised a kind of wall up against
it of turfs, about two foot thick on the outside; and after some time—
I think it was a year and half—I raised rafters from it, leaning to the
rock, and thatched or covered it with boughs of trees, and such things
as I could get to keep out the rain, which I found at some times of
the year very violent.

_ Ihave already observed how I brought all my goods into this pale,
and into the cave which I had made behind me: but I must observe,
too, that at first this was a confused heap of goods, which, as they lay
in no order, so they took up all my place: I had no room to turn my-
self; so I set myself to enlarge my cave and works farther into the
earth; for it was a loose sandy rock, which yielded easily to the
labour I bestowed on it: and so when I found I was pretty safe as to
beasts of prey, I worked sideways to the right hand into the rock; and
then, turning to the right again, worked quite out, and made me a
door to come out, on the outside of my pale, or fortification.

This gave me not only egress and regress, as it were a back way to
my tent and to my storehouse, but gave me room to stow my goods.

And now I began to apply myself to make such necessary things as
I found I most wanted, particularly a chair and a table; for without
these I was not able to enjoy the few comforts I had in the world,—I
could not write or eat, or 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
squaring every thing 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 in time,
by labour, application, and contrivance, I found at last that.I wanted
nothing but I could have made it, especially if I had had tools; how-
ever, I made abundance of things even without tools, and some with no
more tools than an adze and a hatchet, which perhaps were never
made that way before, and that with infinite labour: for example, if 1
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
ny adze. It is true, by this method, I could make but one board: out
of a whole tree; but this I had no eae for but pinay any :







90 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



than I had for the prodigious deal of time and labour which it took
me up to made a plank or board; but my time and labour were little
worth, and so they were 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
brought on my raft from the ship; but when I had wrought out some
boards, as 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, and, in a word, to separate every thing at
large in their places, that I might come easily 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 to be seen, it looked like a general
magazine of all necessary things; and I had every thing 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 of 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 a hurry; and not only
hurry as to labour, but in too much discomposure of mind, and my
journal would have been full of many dull things. For example, I
must have said thus: September the 30th, after I got to shore, and
had escaped drowning, instead of being thankful to God for my
deliverance, having first vomited with the 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, exclaiming at my misery, and crying out, I was undone, undone!
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, yet I could not forbear getting up to
the top of a little mountain, and looking out to sea, in hopes of seeing
a ship; then fancy at a vast distance I spied a sail; please myself
with the hopes of it; and then, after looking steadily till I was almost
blind, lose it quite, and sit down and weep like a child, and thus
increase my misery by my folly.

But having gotten over these things in some measure, and having
settled my household stuff and habitation, made me a table and a
chair, and all as handsome 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
tol! all these particulars over again) as long as it lasted; for, having
no more ink, I was forced to leave it off.



ee ae



CF ROBINSON CRUSOE — : 91

CHAPTER V.

1 begin to keep a Journal—Christen my desert Island the Island of’Despair—Fall upon
various Schemes to make Tools, Baskets, &c., and begin to build my House—At a
great Loss of an Evening for Candle, but fall upon an expedient to supply the want
—Strange discovery of Corn—a terrible Earthquake and Storm.

THE JOURNAL. :
September 30, 1659.

I, poor miserable Robinson Crusoe, being shipwrecked, during a
dreadful storm in the offing, came on shore on this dismal unfortanate
island, which I called the Island of Despair; all the rest of the ship's
company being drowned, and myself almost dead.

All the rest of that day I spent in afflicting myself at the dismal
circumstances I was broughi to, namely, I had neither food, house,
clothes, weapon, or place to fly to, and in despair of any relief, saw -
nothing but death before me, either that I should be devoured by wild
beasts, murdered by savages, or starved to death for want of food. At
the approach of night I slept in a tree, for fear of wild creatures, but
slept soundly, though it rained all night. —

October 1.—In the morning I saw, to my great surprise, the ship
had floated with the high tide, and was driven on shore again, much
nearer the island; which, as it was some comfort on one hand, for
seeing her sit upright, and not broken to pieces, I hoped, if the wind
abated, I might get on board, and get some food and necessaries out
of her for my relief;.so, on the other hand, it renewed my grief, at
the loss of my comrades, who, I imagined, if we had all stayed on board,
might have saved the ship, or at least that they would not have been
all drowned as they were ; and that had the men been saved, we might
perhaps have ‘built us a boat out of the ruins of the ship, to have car-
ried us to some other part of the world, spent great part of this day
in perplexing myself on these things; but at length, seeing the ship -
almost dry, I went upon the sand as near ag I could, and then Swain:
on board. This day also it continued raining; theegh 2 no wind at
all.

From the 1st of October to the 24th.—All hee, days cintifely spent
m many several voyages to get all I could out of the ship,. whieh. i
brough* on shore, sere tide of: flood, upon rafis.. ‘Much rain “als”








92 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



these days, though with some intervals of fair weather; but it seems
this was the rainy 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 chiefly heavy, I reco-
vered many of them when the tide was out.

Oct. 25.—It rained all night and all day, with some gusts of wind;
during which time the ship 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
securing the goods which I had saved, that rain might not spoil
them.

Oct. 26.—I walked about the shore almost all day, to find out a
place to fix my habitation, greatly concerned to secure myself from any
attack in the night, either from wild beasts or men. Towards night I
fixed upon a proper place under a rock, and marked out a semicircle
for my encampment, which I resolved to strengthen with a work, wall,
or fortification, made of double piles, lined within with cable, and with-
out with turf.

From the 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
exceeding hard.

The 31st, in the morning, I went out into the island with my gun,
to seek for some food, and discover the country ; when I killed a she-
goat, and her kid followed me home, which I afterwards 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 large as I could, with stakes driven in to swing
my hammock upon.

Nov. 2—I set up all my chests and boards, and the pieces of timber,
which made my rafts, and with them formed a fence round me, a little
within the place I had marked out for my fortification.

Nov. 3.—I went out with my gun, and killed two fowls like ducks,
which were very good food. In the afternoon went to work to make
me a table. !

Nov. 4.—This morning I began to order my times of work; of going
out with my gun, time of sleep, and time of diversion: namely, every
morning I walked out with my gun for two or three hours, if it did
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 of the next. were wholly
employed in making my table; for I was yet but a very sorry work-



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ~ 93:



man, though time and necessity made me a complete natural mechanic
soon after, as L believe it wquld do any one else.

Nov. 5.—This day went abroad with my gun and my dog, and killed
a wild-cat; her skin pretty soft, but her flesh good for nothing: every
creature I killed I took off the skins and preserved them. Coming
back by the sea-shore, I saw many sorts of sea-fowls, which I did not
understand; but was surprised, and almost frighted with two or three
seals, which, while I was gazing at, not well knowing what they were,
got into the sea, and escaped me for that time.

Nov. 6.—After my morning walk, I went to work mth 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), I took
wholly up to make me a chair, and, with much ado, brought it to a
tolerable shape, but never to please me; and even in the making, I
pulled it in pieces several times. Note—lI soon neglected my keeping
Sundays; for omitting my mark for them on my post, I forgot which
was which.

Nov. 18.—This day it rained, which refreshed me exceedingly, and
cooled the earth; but it was accompanied with terrible thunder and
lightning, which frighted 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 remote from one another as possible. On one of these
three days I 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, to
make room for my farther conveniency. Note—Three things I wanted
exceedingly for this work, namely, a pick-axe, a shovel, and a wheel-
barrow or basket; so I desisted from my work, and began to consider
how to supply that want, and make me some tools: as for a pick-axe,
I made use of the iron-crows, which were proper enough, though heavy ;
but the next thing was a shovel or spade; this was so absolutely neces-
sary, that indeed I could do nothing effectually without it; but what
kind of one to make I knew not.



Fov. 18.—The next day, in searching the woods, 1 faa a tree of |

that wood, or like it, which in the Brazils they call the iron-tree, for _
its exceeding hardness: of this, with great labour, and almost spailing:.





94 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



my axe, I cut a piece, and brought it home too with difficulty enough,
for it was exceeding heavy.

The excessive hardness of the wood, and “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 a-making.

I was still deficient, for I wanted a basket or a wheel-barrow; a
basket I could not make by any means, having no such things as twigs,
that would bend to make wicker-ware, at least not yet found out; and
as to a wheel-barrow, I fancied I could make all but the wheel, but that
I had no notion of, neither did I know how to go about it; besides, I
had no possible way to make the iron gudgeons for the spindle, or axis,
of the wheel, to run in, so I gave it over; and so, for carrying away
the earth which I dug out of the cave,.I made me a thing like a hod,
which the labourers carry mortar in, when they serve the bricklayers.

This was not so difficult to 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 less than four days, I mean always except-
ing my morning walk with my gun, which I seldom failed; and very
seldom failed also bringing home something 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
entirely in widening and deepening my cave, that it might hold 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 my lodging, I kept to the
tent, except that sometimes in the wet season of the year, it rained
so hard, that I could not keep myself dry, which caused me afterwards
to cover all my place within my pale with long poles in the form of
rafters, leaning against the rock, and load them with flags and large
leaves of trees like a thatch.

December 10.—I began now to think my cave, or vault, finished,
when on a sudden (it seems I had made it too large) a great quantity
of earth fell down from the top and one side, so much, that, in short,
it frighted me, and not without reason too; for if I had been under it,
I had never wanted a grave-digger. Upon this disaster I had a great .
deal of work to d- oyer again; for I had the loose earth to carry out,



\WEF ROBINSON ‘CRUSOE. - 95

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 work with it accordingly, and got two
shores, or posts, pitched upright to the top, with two pieces of boards
across over each post; this I finished the next day; and setting more
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 my
house. ,

Dec. 17.—From this day to the twentieth I placed shelves, and
knocked up nails on the posts to hang every thing up that could be
hung up: and now I began to be in some order within doors.

Dee. 20.—Now I carried every thing into the cave, and began to
furnish my house, and set up some pieces of boards like a dresser, to
order my victuals upon; but boards began to be very scarce with me:
also, I made me another table.

Dee. 24.—Much rain all night and all day; no stirring out.

Dee. 25.—Rain all day.

Dec. 26.—No rain, and the earth much cooler than before, and
pleasanter.

Dec. 27.—Killed a young goat, and lamed another, so that I caught
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 and as strong as ever; but by
nursing it so long it grew tame, and fed upon the little green at my
door, and would not go away. This was the first time that I entey-
tained a thought of breeding up some tame creatures, that I might have
food when my powder and shot were all spent.

Dee. 28, 29, 830.—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.

January 1—Very hot still; but I went abroad early and late with
my gun, and lay still in the middle of the day. This evening, going
farther into the valleys which lay towards. 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.

Jan. 2.—Accordingly, the next day I went out with my dog, and set
him upon the goats; but I was mistaken, for they all faced about upon
the dog; and he knew his danger too well, for he would not come near
them. 4

Jan. 3.—I began my fence, or wall, which, being still jealous of my
_ being attacked by somebc-dy,.I resolved to make very thick and strong.







96 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES









CRUSOE WRITING HIS JOURNAL.

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, finishing,
and perfecting this wall, though it was no more than about twenty-
four yards in length, being a half circle from one place in the rock to
another place about eight 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 until this wall was finished; and it is scarcely credible
what inexpressible labour every thing was done with, especially the
bringing piles out of the woods, and driving them into the ground;
for I made them much bigger than I need 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 any thing like a
habitation ; and it was very well I did so, as may be observed hereafter,
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

ee





SS ee. ae er



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 97











these walks, of something ov other to my advantage ; particularly, |
found a kind of wild pigeons, who built, not as wood pigeons, in a tree,
but rather as house pigeons, in the holes of the rocks ; and taking some
young ones, I endeavored to breed them up tame, and did so; but |
when they grew older they flew away, which, perhaps, was at first for
want of feeding them; for I had nothing to give them. However, I
frequently found their nests, and got their young ones, which were
very good meat.

And now, in the managing my household affairs, I found myself
wanting in many things, which I thought at first it was impossible tor
me to make, as indeed, as to 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 I could never arrive to the capacity of making
one by them, though I spent many weeks about it ; I could neither put
in the heads, or joint 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 for candle, so that as
soon as ever it was dark, which was generally by seven o’clock, I was
obliged to go to bed. I remembered the lump of beeswax with which
T made candles in my African adventure, but I had none of that now.

The only remedy I had was, that when I had killed a goat I saved
=: “ O77



38 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

the tallow, and, with a little dish made of clay, which I baked in the
sun, to which I added a wick of some oakum, I made me a lamp; and
this gave me a light, though not a clear steady light like a candle. In
the middle of all my labours, it happened that, rummaging my things,
T found a little bag, which, as I hinted before, had been filled with
corn for the feeding of poultry, not for this voyage, but before, as I
suppose, when the ship came from Lisbon. What little remainder of
corn had been in the bag was all devoured with the rats, and I saw
nothing in the bag but husks and dust; and being willing to have the
bag for some other use—I think it was to put powder in—when I
divided it for fear of the lightning, or some such use, I shook the husks
of corn out of it, on one side of my fortification, under the rock.

It was a little before the great rains, just now mentioned, that I
threw this stuff away, taking no notice of any thing, and not so much
as remembering that I had thrown any thing there; when about a
month after, or thereabout, I saw some few stalks of something green
shooting out of the ground, which I fancied might be some plant I had
not seen; but I was surprised and 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 our
English barley.

It is impossible to express the astonishment and confusion of my
thoughts on this occasion. I had hitherto acted upon no religious
foundation at all. Indeed, I had very few notions of religion in my
head, or had entertained any sense of any thing that had befallen me,
otherwise than as a chance, or, as we lightly say, what pleases God;
without so much as inquiring into the end of Providence in these
things, or his order in governing events in the world. But after I saw
barley grow there, in a climate which I knew was not proper for corn,
and especially, that 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 any help of seed sown; and that it was so
directed, purely for my sustenance on that wild miserable place.

This touched my heart a little, and brought tears out of my eyes,
and I began to bless mysclf that such a prodigy of nature should hap-
pen upon my account; and this was the more strange to me, because 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
support, but, not doubting but that there was more in the place, I went
all over that part of the island where I had been before, peeping in



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 99



every corner, and under every rock, to see for more of it; but I could
not find any. At last, it occurred to my thought that I had shook a
bag of chicken’s meat out in that place, and then the wonder began to
cease; and I must confess, my religious thankfulness to God’s provi-
dence began to abate too, upon discovering that 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 ten or twelve grains of corn to remain 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 had been burnt up and
destroyed.

I carefully saved the ears of corn, you may be sure, in their season,
which was about the end of June, and, laying up every corn, I resolved
to sow them all again, hoping in time to have some quantity sufficient
to supply me with bread; but it was not till the fourth year that I could
allow myself the least grain of this corn to eat, and even then but
sparingly, as I shall say afterwards in its order; for I lost all that I
sowed the first season, by not observing the proper time; for I sowed
it just before the dry season, so that it never came up at all, at least
not as it would have done: of which in its place.

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 kind, or to the same purpose, namely, to make me bread, or
rather food; for I found ways to cook it up without baking, though I.
did that also after some time. But to return to my journal.

I worked excessive hard these three or four months to get my wall
done; and the 14th of April I closed it up, contriving to go into it,
not by a door, but over the wall by a ladder, that there might be no
sign in 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 up after me, and let it down on the inside.
This was-a complete enclosure to me; 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 had all
ny labour overthrown at once, and myself killed. The case.was,thus:
is I was busy in the inside of it, behind my tent, just in the entrance
nto my cave, I was terribly frighted with a most dreadful surprising
thing indeed; for on a sudden I found the earth come crumbling down








Full Text


DE FOR.

DANIEL
AND

STRANGE SURPRISING ADVENTURES

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOE

Of York, Mariner.

AS RELATED BY HIMSELF.

BY

DANIEL DE FOE.
With an Autobiographical Memoir of the Author,
AND A
LIFE OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK,’

BY WHOSE RESIDENCE ON THE ISLAND OF JUAN FERNANDEZ THE WORK WAS SUGGESTED,

f

Hout floiia —




HUBBARD BROS., PHILA. & BOSTON;
E. HANNAFORD & Co., CINCINNATI AND CHicaco; A. L. BANCROFT
Francisco; Goopwyn & Co., NEW ORLEANS.
1872,




e
e
4
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by
HUBBARD BROTHERS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.


INTRODUCTION.



E FOE published “ Robinson Crusoe” in 1719, under
the following quaint title: “The Life and Strange Sur-
1K prising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Ma-
: yiner: who lived eight-and-twenty years all alone in an
uninhabited island on the coast of America, near the
mouth of the great river Oroonoque; having been cast on
shore by shipwreck, wherein all the men perished but
himself. With an account how he was at last strangely
delivered by Pirates. Written by himself.”

Like “Paradise Lost,” this romance, destined to so immediate and
lasting a popularity, is said to have been offered to “the whole circle of
the trade” before any publisher could be found willing to incur the risk
of producing it. Its success however was so great that four editions
were printed in as many months. It appeared, in the first instance, with
the following preface :—




If ever the story of any private man’s adventures in the world were worth making
public, and were acceptable when published, the Editor of this account thinks this
will be so.

The wonders of this man’s life excced all that (he thinks) is to be found extant;
the life of one man being scarce capable of a greater variety.

The story is told with modesty, with seriousness, and with a religious application
of events to the uses to which wise men always apply them; viz., to the instruction
of others, by this example, and to justify and honor the wisdom of Providence in all
the variety of circumstances, let them happen how they will.

The Editor believes the thing to be a just history of fact; neither is there any
appearance of fiction in it: and however thinks, because all such things are dispfted,
that the improvement of it, as well to the diversion as to the instruction of the
reader, will be the same; and as such, he thinks, without farther compliment to the

world, he does them a great service in the publication.

The great success of the first part induced De Foe to write a second,
which was published in August, 1719; Part I. having appeared in the
previous April. A map of the world accompanied it, to give a greater
appearance of truth to the tale, on which the travels of Crusoe were
indicated, and its proper place assigned to the island.

Author's preface to the 2d Part:—

The success the former part of this work has met with in the world’ has yet been

no other than is acknowledged to be due to the surprising variety of the subject, and
to the agreeable manner of the performance. .

The just application of every incident, the religious and useful inferances drawn: : |

5





6 INTRODUCTION.

.
from every part, are so many testimonies to the good design of making it public, and
must legitimate all the part that may be called invention or parable in the story.

The second part, if the Editor’s opinion may pass, is (contrary to the usage of
second parts) every way as entertaining as the first; contains as strange and sur-
prising incidents, and as great a variety of them; nor is the application less serious
or suitable ; and doubtless will, to the sober as well as ingenious reader, be every
way as profitable and diverting.

In so far as Selkirk passed a certain number of years on an uninha-
bited island, he may be truly said to have furnished the idea of Crusoe;
but the subordinate figures, the grouping, and the scenery are altogether
due to the genius of De Foe. Herein he affords an exact parallel to
Shakespeare, who derived the plots of his immortal dramas, now from an
Italian romance, now from passing events.

Whatever may have been the origin of the tale, however virulent may
have been the attacks made against its author, as he himself says, by
political enemies and senseless critics, the judgment of the most enlight-
ened men of all nations has placed “ Robinson Crusoe” upon a height
which no sounds of animosity can now reach. What pleasure has this
wonderful tale given, and still gives, to all readers! Young and old,
rich and poor, find in its pages an unfailing source of pure delight.

It blends instruction with amusement in a way no other production of
human intellect has ever succeeded in doing. While depicting a solitary
individual struggling against misfortune, it indicates the justice and the
mercy of Providence; and while inculeating the duty of self-help, asserts
the complete dependence of man upon a higher power for all he stands
in need of.

If we consider novels in their relation to life, “Robinson Crusoe”
must win the prize for truthfulness and reality. How naturally the in-
cidents occur! There is no deference shown by the author to the exi-
gencies of his story, nor to dramatic effect. The characters appear as
they do in real life—exercise some influence for good or evil on the
principal figure in the tale—and then disappear, to be seen no more.
Take, for instance, Xury. Would not a novelist of less power have
brought him forward, over and over again, after he had once introduced
him as the faithful friend of the hero? But De Foe saw fit to do other-
wise. Xury is brought upon the stage; assists the escape of the chief
personage in the drama; and is seen no more. Is not this the way of
real life?

Nor does the effect of reality stop here. So natural are all the cha-
racters, that we seem to know them personally—to be ourselves assisting
at the scenes recorded in it.

For these excellencies the learned and the good have uniformly per-
sisted in singling out “Robinson Crusoe” for special commendation. To
mention only two—Rousseau held that it was the book a boy should read
first and read longest. Dr. Johnson remarked, “Was there ever any-
thing written by mere man that was wished longer by its readers, except-
ing ‘Don Quixote,’ ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ and the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ?’”
INTRODUCTION. 7

Tn conclusion, we present to our readers the touching lines in which
Cowper supposes Alexander Selkirk to record his feelings :—

Tam monarch of all I survey,
My right there is none to dispute ;
From the centre all round to the sea,
Iam lord of the fowl and the brute.

O Solitude! where are the charms
That sages have seen in thy face?

Better dwell in the midst of alarms,
Than reign in this horrible place.

lam out of humanity’s reach,
I must finish my journey alone,
Never hear the sweet music of speech—
‘I start at the sound of my own.

The beasts, that roam over the plain,
My form with indifference see ;

They are so unacquainted with man,
Their tameness is shocking to me.

Society, friendship, and love,
Divinely bestow’d upon man,

Oh! had I the wings of a dove,
How soon would I taste you again!

My sorrows I then might assuage
In the ways of religion and truth,
Might learn from the, wisdom of age,
And be cheer’d by the sallies of youth.

Religion! what treasure untold
Resides in that heavenly word!
More precious than silver and gold,
Or all that this earth can afford.



But the sound of the church-going bell
These valleys and rocks never heard,

Never sigh’d at the sound of a knell,
Or smiled when a Sabbath appear’d.

Ye winds, that have made me your sport,
Convey to this desolate shore

Some cordial, endearing report
Of a land I shall visit no more.

My friends, do they now and then send
A wish or a thought after me?

Oh! tell me I yet have a friend,
Though a friend I am never to see.

How fleet is a glance of the mind!
Compared with the speed of its flight,
The tempest itself lags behind,
And the swift-wing’d arrows of light.

When I think of my own native land,
In a moment I seem to be there;
But, alas! recollection at hand
Soon hurries me back to despair.

But the sea fowl is gone to her nest,
The beast is laid down in his lair;
Even here is a season of rest,
And I to my cabin repair.

There’s mercy in every place,

And mercy, encouraging thought!
Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot.






CONTENTS.

MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR->



seas ss aiien ster eeterseserseeees es «Page 12

CHAPTER I.

My Birth and Parentage—At Nineteen Years of Age I determine to go to Sea—Dissuaded by my Parents—
Elope with a Schoolfellow, and go on board Ship—A Storm arises, during which I am dreadfully fright-
encd—Ship founders.—Myself and Crew saved by @ Bout from another Vessel, and landed near Yarmouth
—Mect my Companion’s Father there, who advises me never to go to Sea more, but all in vain..----. 35

CHAPTER II.

Make a Trading Voyage to Guinea very successfully—Death of my Captain—Sail another Trip with his
Mate—The Vengeance of Providence for Disobedience to Parents now overtakes me—Taken by a Salee
Rover, and all sold as Slaves—My Master frequently sends me fishing, which suggests an idea of Escape
—Make my Escape in an open Boat, with a Moresco Boy.--+++++s+eseeeeee ee eee ee eens see wee 48





CHAPTER III.

Make for the Southward, in hopes of mecting with some European Vessel—See Savages along Shore—
Shoot a large Leopard—Am taken up by a Merchantman—Arrive at the Brazils, and buy a Settlement
there—Cannot be quiet, but Sail on a Voyage of Adventure to Guinea—Ship strikes on a Sand-bank in
unknown Land—All lost but myself, who am driven ashore, half dead..--+++..0+e.seeeeeee cess eeeee 58

CHAPTER IV.

Aprearance of the Wreck and Country next Day—Swim on board of the Ship, and, by means of a Con-
trivance, get a quantity of Stores on Shore—Shoot a Bird, but it turns out perfect Carrion—Moralize
upon my Situation—The Ship blown off Land, and totally lost—Set out in search of a proper place for

a Habitation—See numbers of Goats—Melancholy Reflections.- +++. ++ ++eeseeeeee tree et ee eee eens 73

CHAPTER Y.

»
I begin to keep a Journal—Christen my desert Island the Island of Despair—Fall upon various Schemes
to make Tools, Baskets, &c. and begin to build my House—At a great loss of an Evening for Candle, but
fall upon an expedient te supply the want—Strange discovery of Corn—A terrible arthquake and
Storm... 0+ cceescsec cscs ec ec cree ec cncenvccvccccseessscesscace he eSR ae Cie esb seen wens anid nslecie’:e 91



CHAPTER VI.



Observe the Ship driven farther aground by the late Storm—Procure a vast quantity of Necegsaries from
the Wreck—Catch a large Turtle—I fall illofa Fever and Ague—Terrib e Dream, and seriou? Reflections
thereon—Find a Bible in one of the Seamen’s Che:
comfort.



thrown ashore, the



ing whereof gives me great
+102



CHAPTER VII.

I begin to take a survey of my Island—Discover plenty of Tobacco, Grapes, Lemons, and Sugar Canes,
wild, but no human Inhabitants—Resolve to lay up a Store of these Articles, to furnish me against the
wet Season—My Cat, which I suppose lost, returns with Kittens—I regulate my Diet, and shut myself up
for the wet Season—Sow my Grain, which comes to nothing; but I discover and remdy my error—Take
account of the course of the Weather.-++ +++... 0. e cece cece ec ee ee ceeeeseec seers aise sewciee eocseces 115

CHAPTER VIII

Make a second Tour through the Island—Catch a young Parrot, which I afterwards teach to speak—My
mode of sleeping at Night—Find the other side of the Island much more pleasant than mine, and covered
with Turtle and Sea-fowl—Catch a young Kid, which I tame—Return to my old Nabitation—Great plague
with my Harvest -----02:-ssceeeeee seer ce eeee teeter essesonrerees te Hi) “ctstoreretgs aiesiiae Pagel25

8


CONTENTS. 9



CHAPTER IX.

Lattempt to mould earthenware, and succeed—Description of my mode of baking—Begin to muke a Boat
—After it is finished, am unable to get it down to the water—Serious Reflections—My Ink and Biscuit
exhausted, and Clothes in a bad state—Contrive to muke a Dress of Sking,.--+.+04 esos -seeeeeeeee 133

CHAPTER X.

T succeed in getting a Canoe afloat, and set out on a Voyage in the Sixth year of my Reign, or Captivity—
Blown out to Sea—Reach the Shore with great difficulty—Fall asleep, and am awakened by a Voice call-
ing my name—Devise various schemes to tame Goats, and at lust succeed.------ seeeee ceeeeee eee 148

CHAPTER XI.

Description of my Figure—Also of my Dwelling and Enclosures—Dreadful alarm on seeing the Print of a
Man’s Foot on the Shore—Reflections—Take every possible measure of precaution..--++++eeeee.++- 159

CHAPTER XII.

I observe a Canoe out at Sea—Find on the Shore the remnant of a Feast of Cannibals—Horror of mind
thereon—Double arm myself—Terribly alarmed by 1 Goat—Discover a singular Cave, or Grotto, of which
I form my Magazine—My fears on account of the Savages begin to subside.--+++++sseeessseeeeeseP 171

CHAPTER XIII.

Description of my Situation in the Twenty-third year of my Residence—Discover Nine naked Savages round
a Fire on my side of the Island—My horror on beholding the dismal work they were about—I determine
on the Destruction of the next Party at all risks—A Ship lost off the Island—Go on board the Wreck,
which I discern to be Spanish—Procure a great variety of Articles from the Vesgel.-++++-+eeeee.-+6 184

CHAPTER XIV.

Reflections—An extraordinary Dream—Discover five Canoes of Savages on Shore—Observe from my station
two miserable Wretches dragged out of their Bouts to be devoured—One of them makes his Escape, and
runs directly towards me, pursued by two others—I take measures so as to destroy his Pursuers and save
his Life—Christen him by the Name of Friday, and he becomes a faithful and excellent Servant.- +++ 197

CHAPTER XV.

Ue is amazed at the effects of the Gun, and considers it an intelligent being—Begins to talk Englig)
cably—A Dialogue—I instruct him in the knowledge of Religion, and find him very apt—He ‘e: ribes
to me some white Men, who had come to his country, and still lived there.---++s+s00 seeseeseeeem 211

[am at great pains to instruct Friday respecting my abhorrence of the Cannibal practices of the mune
: iple-

CHAPTER XVI.

determine to go over to the Continent—Friday and I construct a Boat equal to carry twenty men—His
dexterity in managing her—Friday brings intelligence of three Canoes of Savages on Shore—Resolve to
go down upon them—Friday and I fire upon the Wretches, and save the life of a poor Spaniard—List of

the killed and wounded—Discover a poor Indian bound in one of the Canoes, who turns out to be Friday’s
Father.-----+-+-





Secesaisces 2 eitinia s.eis.eeleejel.incieisie sinnemeatclce s epaOry

CHAPTER XVII.

learn from the Spaniard that there were sixteen more of his Countrymen among the Savages—The Spa-
niard and Friday’s Father, well armed, sail on a Mission to the Continent—I discover an English Ship
lying at anchor off the Island—Her Boat comes on Shore with three Prisoners—The Crew straggle into
the Woods, their boat being aground—Discover myself to the Prisoners, who prove to be the Captain and
Mate of the Vessel, and a Passenger—Secure the Mutineers...+++++sesesseeseeecesee seeeeseees cee ot)

CHAPTER XVIII.

The Ship makes Signals for her Boat—On receiving no answer, she sends another Boat on Shore—Methods
by which we secure this Boat’s Crew, and recover the Ship..-++---sesessseees sees 2 £5!



CHAPTER XIX.
I take leave of the Island, and, after a long Voyage, arrive in England—Go down into Yorkshire, and find



oo AS


0 CONTENTS.



the greater part of my Family dead—Resolve to go to Lisbon for information respecting my Plantation
at the Brazils—Mect an old Friend there, by whose means I become rich—Set out for England overland
—Much annoyed by Wolves on the road.--++++.-sese0e 267





CHAPTER XX.

Strange Battle betwixt Friday and a Bear—Terrible engagement with a whole Army of Wolves—Arrivo
in England safely, and settle my affairs there—I marry and have a Family.-+++-++-++ seeeeeseeeee 280

PART II.

CHAPTER I.

Reflections-—Unsettled state of Mind, and Conversation with my Wife thereon—Purchase a Farm in the
County of Bedford—Lose my Wife—I determine to revisit my Island, and for that purpose settle all my Af-
fairs in England—Description of the Cargo I carried out with me—Save the Crew ofa Vessel burnt at Sea. 292

CHAPTER II.

Bteer for the West Indies—Distressing Account of a Bristol Ship, the Crew of which we save in a state of
Starvation—Arrive at my Island—Friday’s joy on discovering it—Affecting interview betwixt him and
his Father on landing—Narrative of the Occurrences on the Island during my Absence..---++-++++ 307

CHAPTER III.

Narrative continued—Insolence of three of the Englishmen to the Spaniards—They are disarmed and
brought to order—A great body of Savages land upon the Island—They turn out to be two adverse Nations
met there by chance—A bloody Battle betwixt them—Several of the vanquished Party secured by the
Spaniards. -+eeeeseeees cece e eee ceec cessor ceneees a seses

Sere ter OSS. eee enseele seeeseeeenses cae: BOE

CHAPTER IY.
Fresh broils betwixt the turbulent Englishmen and the Spaniards~The English make a Voyage to the
Mainland, and return in twenty-two Days—Particulars of their Voyage—Description of the Men and

Women they brought with them—The Colony ed by an unlucky accident to the Savages, who
invade the Island, but are defeated..- oe eee eee eenececaneee tonne




CHAPTER VY.

The Island is invaded by a formidable Fleet of Savages—A terrible Engagement, in which the Cannibals aro
utterly routed—Thirty-seven wretches, the survivors, are saved, and employed by my people as servants
—Description of Will Atkins’s ingenious contrivance for his accommodation.---+++++++++++ seeeeeees B56

CHAPTER VI.

T hold Conversations with the Spaniards, and learn the History of their situation among the Savages, from
which I relieved them—I inform the Colony for what purpose I am come, and what I mean to do for them
—Distribution of the Stores I brought with me—The Priest I saved at Sea solemnizes the Marriages of the
Sailors and Female Indians, who had hitherto lived together as Man and Wife.-++++esee+. eeseeee + 368

CHAPTER VII. 4
Sincere and worthy character of the Priest—Dialogue with Will Atkins and myself—Conversation betwixt
Atkins and his Indian Wife on the subject of Religion—Her Baptism—Settlement of the Commonwealth. 306

CHAPTER VILI.

{ entertain the prospect of converting the Indians—Aminble character of the Young Woman we saved in a
famished state at Sea—Her own relation of her sufferings from hunger—Sail from the Island for the Bra
zile—Encounter and rout a whole fleet of Savages—Death of Friday—Arrival at Brazil.----+- seeeee 409

CHAPTER IX.

T despatch a Number of additional Recruits, and a Quantity of extra Stores to the Island, and take my leave
of it for ever—I determine to go with the ee to the East Indies—Arrival at Madagascar—Dreadful Oo
currences there.- : ++ 420







bs CHAPTER X.
Difference with my Nephew on account of the Cruslties practised at Madagascar—Five men lost on the
=n

CONTENTS, ll



Arabian Shore, off the Guif of Persia—The Seamen refuse to sail, if I continua on board, in consequence
of which I am left on shore—Make a very advantageous trading Voyage in company with an English
Merchant, and purchase a vessel, which, it turns out, the Crew had mutinied and run away with: - 435

CHAPTER XI.

Make a trading Voyage in this Ship—Put into the River Cambodia—Am warned of my Danger by a Coun-
tryman, in consequence of which we set sail, and are pursued—Great difficulty in making our Escape. 446

CHAPTER XII.

Obliged to come to anchor on a Savage Coast, to repair our Ship—We are attacked by the Natives, whom our
Carpenter disperses by a whimsical contrivance—Scrious Reflections upon our disagreeable Situation. 453

CHAPTER XIII.

Wo arrive in China in safety—Dispose of the Ship—Description of the Inhabitants—Arrive at Pekin, and
find an opportunity of returning to Burope-+----++sesesseeeseceeeereseceeeceeeecreoeenccsseesess 466

CHAPTER XIV.

Set out by the Caravan—Account of the valuable Effects we took with us—Farther description of the In
terior of China—Pass the great Wall—Attacked by Tartars, who are dispersed by the Resolution of a
Soots Merchant—The old Pilot saves my Life—We are again attacked, and defeat the Tartars.------- 479

CHAPTER XY.

Further Account of our Journey—Description of an Idol, which we destroy—Great danger we incur thereby
—Avceount of our Travels through Muscovy..-+++++++++ a eccccrce cece ccecec scenes vesccenseesses 489

CHAPTER XVI.

Conversations with a Russian Grandee—Set out on my Journey Homewards—Harassed by Kalmucks on
the Road—Arrival at Archangel—Sail from thence, and arrive safely in England..-++++..---- seseee 505

APPENDIX—Lire AND ADVENTURES OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK.-- «+++





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE
2 | Crusoe Sleeping in his Boat

7 | Friday Humble...
34 | Crusoe and Friday . i
35 | Crusoe und Friday out Shooting.
41 | Crusoe and Friday on the Hill
44 | Discovering the Mutincers.
49 | Crusoe very IIl......
50 | Friday and the Bear.
75 | Crusoe Married.....
96 | Crusoe Welcomed by the Spaniard
97 | The Spaniard Introducing Crusoe.
112 | Firing the Hut ............
118 | The Vagrants in the Wood.
121 | Fight with the Cannibals..
122 | Marrying the Three Couples
133 | Priest and Negro Woman.
135 | Firing the Town
153 | Tarring the Blacks.......cccccssseoeee
+ 158 | Introduced to a Chinese Merchant












Daniel De Foe, (Portrait).
Among the Breakers...







Our Hero...



Robinson Cruso
Crusoe and Bob aboard Ship .
The Storm
Attack of the Sallee Rover.
Crusoe a Slave... aonee
Crusoe Loading his Raft
Crusoe Writing his Journal .
Crusoe Discovers the Barley
Crusoe ill, reading the Bible.
Crusoe in his Bower..... se.
Crusoe’s Cat Family
Crusoe Making Baskets
Teaching the Parrot to talk
Crusoe Making a Coat
Crusoe Startled by Hearing a Voice ..
Crusoe at Dinner.......... eee
Crusoe Terrified by Seeing a Footprint
Crusoe in his Fort... wssccosrseees































186






MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.

Dantex For (for the Dr was prefixed to his name by himself, at a late period
in life) was the son of James Foe, a citizen of London, who carried on the busi-
ness of a butcher, in St. Giles’s, Cripplegate; but having “got a good estate by
merchandise, left off his trade” several years before his death. He was “a
wise and grave man,” sincerely attached to the Presbyterian form of worship;
and when his pastor, the Rev. Samuel Annesley, LL. D., was ejected from
the parish of Cripplegate by the Act of Uniformity, in 1662, he followed him,
and worshipped at the chapel in Bishopsgate for many years.

His son DAnrex was born in 1661, the year following the Restoration; and
after receiving a competent “house education,” and as far as “the free-school
generally goes,” about the age of fourteen he was sent to a dissenting academy
at Newington Green, then superintended by the Rey. Charles Morton, who
was afterwards pastor of a church in Charlestown, Mass., and vice-president of
Harvard College. Here he received as much of a collegiate education as could
be obtained by a dissenter at this period, perfecting his acquaintance with lan-
guages, natural philosophy, logic, geography, and history; and, under the
special direction of his tutor, going through a complete course of theology.
In one of his “ Reviews,” in 1705, he says, ‘I owe this justice to my ancient
father, still living, and in whose behalf I freely testify, that if I am a block-
head, it was nobody’s fault but my own, he having spared nothing in my
education.”

It was the intention of his parents that he should become a Presbyterian
minister, and his education was adapted to that profession. The cause of his
abandoning it has been a matter of some speculation, but the reason may pro-
bably be gathered from the peculiar character of the times. He completed
his academical career in the year when Monmouth had just returned from the
slaughter of the Scottish Covenanters at Bothwell-bridge, and when “it was
not safe for a dissenting minister to be seen in the streets of London,’ the
liberties of England being prostrate before the court and high-church party;
and need we wonder that a person of his ardent temperament should be drawn
aside into the religio-political contests of the times? He himself merely
says, “It was my disaster first to be set apart for, and then to be set apart
from, the honour of that sacred employ.”

At the age of twenty-one, he began that career of authorship which he con-

tinued unremittingly for the s~ace of half a century. His first attempt is a
12
MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 13



small quarto volume of thirty-four pages, with the ridiculous title of “Speculum
Crape-Gownorum ; or a Looking-Glass for the Young Academicks, new Foyl’d.
With Reflections on some of the late high-flown Sermons: to which is added,
An Essay towards a Sermon of the newest Fashion. By a Guide to the In-
feriour Clergie. Ridentem dicere Verum Quis Vetat? London: Printed for
E. Rydal. 1682.’’ It was intended, says De Foe, “as a banter upon Sir
Roger L’Estrange’s Guide to the Inferior Clergy,” and seems to have produced
a much greater effect than the nature of the performance warranted. As a
specimen, we will selecta passage from the “Essay towards a Sermon of the
newest Fashion.” ‘Were I now to preach before a great magistrate that had
the power in his hands, I would say,—My Lord, you bear not the sword in
vain. Let them [the dissenters] be fined and imprisoned, nay hanged, my
Lord. Now, if my Lord should say, Do you endeavour to convince them of
their errors by sound doctrine and good example of life. Then would I say,—-
No, my Lord, they will never be convinced by us; for we have not wit nor
learning enough to do it; neither can we take so much pains. ’Tis easier to
talk an hour about state-affairs and make satires against the fanaticks than to
preach convincing and sound doctrine. The fanaticks, therefore, must be con-
futed by bolts and shackles; by fines and imprisonments; by excommunica-
tions and exterminations; and therefore, pray, my Lord, let ’em be scourged
out of the temple; let ’em be whipped out of the nation.”

In 1683, he produced “A Treatise against the Turks.” The Turks were at
this time threatening the existence of the Austrian empire; and on account
of the persecutions of the Protestants by that power, their irruption was
looked upon with complacency by many of the dissenters in England, and the
design of this work was to counteract that feeling.

In February, 1685, James II. ascended the throne, and immediately mani-
fested his attachment to Popery, and his intention of governing in defiance of
the laws. At first he was supported by the high-church party, and the dis-
senters seeing no prospect of being delivered from the shackles in which for the
last twenty-five years they had been held, prepared to throw off his authority.
In midsummer of this year, accordingly, the kingdom was invaded by the Duke
of Monmouth, a natural son of Charles II., and De Foe joined his standard.
After Monmouth’s defeat, he had the good fortune to escape; but in after-
years he looked back upon his connection with this affair with satisfaction.

In 1686, he became an agent for the sale of hosiery, and had his establish-
ment in Freeman’s Court, Cornhill, London; and judging it expedient to link
himself more closely with his fellow-citizens, he claimed his freedom by birth,
and was admitted a liveryman of London. In the chamberlain’s book his name
is written Daniel Foe. :

In the latter part of this reign, the dissenters were cofirted by the king ana
by the high-church party, who were about to proceed to open hostilities against
each other. In this aspect of affairs De Foe published two pamphlets, in
which he satirizes the altered tone of the churchmen, condemns the power

+.




14 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



f dispensing with the laws, assumed by King James, and warns the dissenters
against being deceived by a pretended toleration, when his real object was to
force a religion prohibited by law upon his subjects.

He who had drawn his sword in the cause of Monmouth was not backward
in the cause of William. On receiving intelligence of his landing, he imme-
diately set out to meet him, and got as far as Henley (thirty-five miles west
of London), which “the Prince of Orange, with the second line of the army,
entered that very afternoon.” Being introduced to the Prince, he formed an
attachment to him which endured till the close of his life. At this period he
seems to have been in prosperous circumstances, having a country-house at
Tooting, in Surrey, at the same time that he carried on the hose-agency in
Cornhill. And when the citizens of London invited King William to a sump-
tuous banquet in Guildhall, and formed a procession to conduct him thither,
“among those troopers,” says Oldmixon, “was Daniel Foe, at that time a
hosier in Freeman’s Yard, Cornhill.”

Though not inattentive to the political movements of this period, he was
more particularly occupied in trade, and that in a very extensive way. In
prosecuting his business he visited Spain, Portugal, the Low Countries, and
France; but partly from his own imprudence, the circumstances of the times,
and the knavery of others, he became bankrupt in 1692, and, to avoid incar-
ceration, concealed himself till he could obtain a settlement with -his creditors.
For some time he seems to have lived in concealment at Bristol, but so high a
sense of his honour was entertained by his creditors, that they soon agreed
to a composition, and accepted his personal security for the amount. This
confidence he more than justified, and, in 1705, he tells us, “that with a
numerous family and no help but his own industry, he had forced his way with
undiscouraged diligence through a sea of misfortunes, and reduced his debts,
exclusive of composition, from seventeen thousand to less than five thousand
pounds.” In harmony with his own example, in the third volume of his
Review he gives the following advice to others: ‘Never think yourselves dis-
charged in conscience, though you may be discharged in law. The obligation
of an honest mind can never dic. No title of honour, no recorded merit, no
mark of distinction can exceed the lasting appellation, ‘an honest man.’ He
that lies buried under such an epitaph has more said of him than volumes of
history can contain. The payment of debts, after fair discharges, is the clearest
title to such a character that I know; and how any man can begin again, and
hope for a blessing from Heaven, or favour from man, without such a resolu-
tion, I know not.” To the honour of De Foe, it ought also to be mentioned,
that the position in which he was placed forcibly directed his attention to tue
law of debtor and creditor, and “in a day when he could be heard,” he
directed the attentiotf of the legislature to several very flagrant abuses, which
were at that time remedied, though many of his suggestions are only being
adopted at the present time. (Review, ili. 75.)

During the two years (1692-8) which were occupied in obtaining a scttle-
:
;
;





MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR 15



ment of his affairs, while in retirement, he was engaged in writing his
“ Essay upon Projects,” the first of his works which has obtained a permanent
place in our literature. The projects are of a varied character, embracing the
subject of banks, road-making, bankruptcy, friendly societies, savings’ banks,
asylums for the insane, education, profane swearing, military academies, sea-
men’s register, education of females, &c. His projects are marked by good
sense, and much of the work is written in a very pleasing and forcible style.
Many of his proposals have since been tested by experience, and from a copy
of his works, which Dr. Franklin found in his father’s library, he says, ‘I
might receive some impressions that have since influenced the principal events
of my life.” It was not published till 1697.

“Misfortunes in business having unhinged me from matters of trade,” says
De Foe, ‘it was about the year 1694 when I was invited by some merchants,
with whom I had corresponded abroad, and some also at home, to settle at
Cadiz, in Spain; and that with the offers of very good commissions. But
Providence, which had other work for me to do, placed a secret aversion in my
mind to quitting England upon any account, and made me refuse the best
offers of that kind. . . . Sometime after this, I was, without the least appli-
cation of mine, and being then seventy miles from London, sent for to be
accountant to the commissioners of the glass duty, in which service I continued
to the determination of the commission,” 1699.

About this time he became secretary to the pantile works at Tilbury, in
Essex, which works, he says, in his Review for March, 1705, ‘before violence,
injury, and barbarous treatment demolished hima and his undertaking, employed
a hundred poor people in making pantiles in England, a manufacture always
bought*in Holland: and thus he pursued this principle with his utmost zeal
for the good of England: and those gentlemen who so eagerly prosecuted him
for saying what all the world since owns to be true, and which he has since a
hundred times offered to prove, were particularly serviceable to the nation, in
turning that hundred of poor people and their families a-begging for work,
besides three thousand pounds damage to the author of this, which he has paid
for this little experience.”

From 1697 to 1701 he entered warmly into the discussion of political mat-
ters then agitated, and twelve pamphlets are extant written in this period, but
in 1701 he produced “The True-Born Englishman,” in rhyme, a work which
added much to his celebrity. He thus accounts for the origin of the poem.
“During this time, there came out a vile abhorred pamphlet, in very ill verse,
written by one Mr. Tutchin, and called ‘The Foreigners;’ in which the author
fell personally upon the king himself, and then upon the Dutch nation; and after
having reproached his majesty with crimes that his worst enemies could not
think of without horror, he sums up all in the odious name of Foreigner.
This filled me with a kind of rage against the book, andygave birth to a trifle
which I never could hope should have met with so general an acceptation as it
did.” As a specimen, a few lines upon the folly of indulging in the pride of
ancestry may be given:


16 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



These are the heroes that despise the Dutch,

And rail at new-come foreignei? so much;

Forgetting that themselves are all derived

From the most scoundrel race that ever lived;

A horrid crowd of rambling thieves and drones,

Who ransack’d kingdoms and dispeopled towns

The Pict and painted Briton, treach’rous Scot,

By hunger, theft, and rapine hither brought;

Norwegian pirates, buccaneering Danes,

Whose red-hair’d offspring everywhere remains;

Who, join’d with Norman-French compound the breed,
_ From whence your True-Born Englishmen proceed.

And lest, by length of time, it be pretended

The climate may the modern race have mended,

Wise Providence, to keep us where we are,

Mixes us daily with exceeding care.”

The first edition was comprised in sixty pages, quarto; and such was ‘ts
popularity, that in four years the author had printed nine editions, the copies
of which he sold at a shilling each, while he calculated that not less than eighty
thousand copies of pirated editions, sold at from sixpence to a penny, were
disposed of in the streets of London. The loss he sustained by this conduct
must have been considerable. He tells us, that “had he been allowed to enjoy
the profit of his own labour, he had gained above a thousand pounds.” This
poem having met the eye of King William, inspired him with the desire to
become acquainted with the author; he was accordingly presented to him,
and was ever after cordially received by him and his consort, and employed in
various secret services.

In his “ Appeal to Honour and Justice,” in 1715, he says, “How this poem
was the occasion of my being known to his majesty; how I was aftérwards
received by him; how employed; and how, above my capacity of deserving,
rewarded, is no part of the present case, and it is only mentioned here, as I
take all occasions to do, for the expressing the honour I ever preserved for the
immortal and glorious memory of that greatest and best of princes, and whom
it was my honour and advantage to call master as well as sovereign; whose
goodness to me I never forgot, neither can forget; and whose memory I
never patiently heard abused, nor ever can do so; and who, had he lived,
would never have suffered ime to be treated as I have been in the world.”

Between the publication of “The True-Born Englishman” and the death of
his patron, in March 1702, he published ten pamphlets, in one of which,
“Reasons against a War with France,” notwithstanding his passionate attach-
ment to William, he ventured, on patriotic grounds, to oppose the views of the
court. °

The life and labours of De Foe are so interwoven with the political history of
his country, that the most satisfactory way of considering his life is by dividing
it into periods, commensurate with the reigns in which he flourished. We
have now arrived at the accession of Queen Anne. She had been educated
by Compton bishop of London, and immediately threw all the influence of the
MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 17



court into the tory or high-church party. ‘The heat and fury of the clergy
went to that height (says De Foe) that even it became ludicrous, and attended
with all the little excesses which a person elevated beyond the government of
himself by some sudden joy is usually subject to. And, as a known author
remarks, that upon the restoration of King Charles II., the excesses and trans-
ports of the clergy and people ran out into revels, may-poles, and all manner
of extravagancies; so at this time, there were more may-poles set up in one
year in England than had been in twenty years before. Ballads for the church
was another expression of their zeal, wherein generally the chorus or burden
of the song was, ‘Down with the Presbyterians.’ And to such a height were
things brought, that the dissenters began to be insulted in every place; their
mecting-houses and assemblies assaulted by the mobs; and even their ministers
and preachers were scarce admitted to pass the streets.” Pamphlets inveigh-
ing against the dissenters were hawked about the streets, and the pulpits
especially resounded with the most violent tirades, and the lenity of the queen
in extending to them toleration was unscrupulously condemned. Familiar with
the sentiments and language of the high-church party, De Foe collected them
into a three-sheet pamphlet, entitled “‘The Shortest Way with the Dissenters;
or, Proposals for the Establishment of the Church.”

“When the book first appeared in the world,” says he, “and before those
high-flown gentlemen knew its author; whilst the piece in its outward. figure
tooked so natural, and was so like a brat of their own begetting, that, like two
apples, they could not know them asunder, the author’s true design in the
writing it had its immediate effect. The gentlemen of the high-church imme-
diately fell in with the project. Nothing could have been more grateful to
them than arguments to prove the necessity of ruining the dissenters, and
removing those obstructions to the church’s glory out of the way. We have
innumerable testimonies of the pleasure with which the party embraced the
proposal of sending all the dissenting ministers to the gallows and the galleys;
of having all their meeting-houses demolished ; and being let loose upon the
people to plunder and destroy them. The soberer churchmen, whose princi-
ples were founded on charity, and who had their eye upon the laws and con-
stitution of their country, as that to which their own liberties were annexed,
though they still believed the book to be written by a high-churchman, yet
openly exclaimed against the proposal, condemned the warmth that appeared
in the clergy against their brethren, and openly professed that such a man as
Sacheverell and his brethren would blow up the foundations of the church.
But either side had scarce time to discover their sentiments, when the book
uppeared to have been written by a dissenter; that it was designed in derision
of the standard held up by Sacheverell and others; that it was a. gatire upon
the fury of the churchmen, and a plot to make the rest discover tebmselves.
Nothing was more strange than to see the effect upcn the whole nation which
this little book, 2 contemptible pamphlet of but three sheets of paper, had,
und in so short a time too. The most forward, hot and furious, as well among

the clergy as others, blushed when they reflected how far they had applauded:
2



ai




18 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



the book; raged that such an abuse should be put upon the church; and as
they were obliged to damn the book, so they were strangely hampered between
the doing so, and pursuing their rage at the dissenters. The greater part, the
better to qualify themselves to condemn the author, came earnestly in to con-
demn the principle ; for it was impossible to do one without the other. They
laboured incessantly, both in print and in pulpit, to prove that this was a hor-
rible slander upon the church. But this still answered the author’s end the
more; for they could never clear the church of the slander, without openly
condemning the practice; nor eould they possibly condemn tae practice, with-
out censuring those clergymen who had gone such a length already as to say
the same thing in print. Nor could all their rage at the author of that book
contribute any thing to clear them, but still made the better side the worse.
It was plain they had owned the doctrine, had preached up the necessity of
expelling and rooting out the dissenters in their sermons and printed pamph-
lets; that it was evident they had applauded the book itself, till they knew the
author; and there was no other way to prevent the odium falling on the whole
body of the Church of England, but by giving up the authors of these mad
principles, and openly professing moderate principles themselves.

“Some people have blamed the author of ‘The Shortest Way,’ for that he
did not quote either in the margin, or otherwise, the sermon of Sacheverell
aforesaid, or such other authors from whom his notions were drawn, which
would have justified him in what he had suggested. But these men do not
see the design of the book at all, or the effect it had on the people it pointed
at. It is true, this had prevented the fate of the man, but it had, at the same
time, taken off the edge of the book; and that which now cut the throat of a
whole party, would not then have given the least wound. The case the book
pointed at, was to speak in the first person of the party, and then, thercby,
not only speak their language, but make them acknowledge it to be theirs;
which they did so openly, that it confounded all their attempts afterwards to
deny it, and to call it a scandal thrown upon them by another.”

An attentive examination of the work might have excited the suspicion of
the arguments being ironical, but the temper of parties was too much excited
to consider calmly. Even by his dissenting brethren it was believed to be a
production of the high-church party; and the wit that practised the deception
had some difficulty in being forgiven. But the anger of the high-church men,
when they discovered the author, was unbounded, and as the party was in power,
it was resolved to institute a state prosecution against him. To further this
prosecution, a formal complaint was made in the House of Commons against
the author, and upon some of the obnoxious passages being read, it was resolved,
“that the book, being full of false and scandalous reflections on this parlia-
ment, be burnt by the hands of the common hangman, to-morrow, in New
Palace Yard.” A proclamation offering a reward of 507. was at the same time
offered for the discovery of the author, and advertised in the London Gazette
for January 10, 1702-3. For the sake of the description of his person it is
herve given
MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 19





“Whereas, Daniel De Foe, alias De Fooe, is charged with writing a scanda-
lous and seditious pamphlet, intitled ‘The Shortest Way with the Dissenters.’
He is a middle-sized, spare man, about forty years old, of a brown complexion,
and dark-brown coloured hair, but wears a wig; a hooked nose, a sharp chin,
gray eyes, and a large mole near his mouth: was born in London, and for
many years was a hose-factor in Freeman’s Yard, Cornhill; and now is owner
of the brick and pantile works near Tilbury Fort, in Essex : whoever shall dis-
cover the said Daniel De Foe to one of her majesty’s justices of the peace, so
that he may be apprehended, shall have a reward of 50/. which her majesty has
ordered immediately to be paid upon such discovery.”

The printer and bookseller being now taken into custody, to shield them
from prosecution, De Foe came forth from bis retreat, and gave himself up to
the government. He was indicted at the Old Bailey sessions, Feb. 24, 1703, and
stood his trial in July following. Diffident of success, if he should have en-
tered upon his defence, his prosecutors tampered with his counsel, who held
out to him hopes of pardon, and advised him to plead guilty and throw himself
upon the mercy of the queen. Much to his regret afterwards, he complied
with the advice, and received a sentence infamous for its severity, while the
avenues to royal mercy for two years were vigilantly shut against him. He
wus sentenced to pay a fine of 200 marks to the queen; stand three times in
the pillory; be imprisoned during the queen’s pleasure; and find sureties for
his good behaviour for seven years.

On the 29th of July he stood in the pillory before the Royal Exchange, in
Cornhill; on the 80th near the Conduit in Cheapside; and on the 31st at
Temple Bar. But to his conduct men could attribute no guilt, and this
mark of degradation and infamy was deprived of all its sting. He was con-
ducted to the pillory by thousands, as to a chair of state; the pillory itself was
hung with garlands; and he himself tells that “those who were expected to
treat him ill, on the contrary pitied him, and wished those who set him there to
be placed in his room, and expressed their affections by loud shouts and acclama-
tions, when he was taken down.”’ All the disgrace of the punishment rebound-
ed upon his persecutors; and while his enemies were preparing the instrument
for his disgrace, he was composing a hymn of triumph. On the very day on
which he appeared there, he published his “Hymn to the Pillory,” in which,
with the keenest satire, he set their enmity at defiance.

“Thou art no shame to truth and honesty,
Nor is the character of such defaced by thee,
Who suffers by oppressive injury.

Shame, like the exhalations of the sun,
Falls back where first the motion was begun:

And he who for no crime shall on thy brows appear,
Bears less r¢proach than they who placed him thers.”
And concludes by invoking the pillory to speak, and
“Tell them the men who placed him here
Are scandals to the times,

Are at a loss to find his guilt,
And cun’t commit hie crimes.”
20 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR



Before his imprisonment De Foe kept his carriage, and lived in an easy,
comfortable style; but being no longer able to attend to the pantile works, from
which he derived his support, they were given up, the capital invested in them
lost, and himself and a wife and six children thrown for their support upon
the products of his pen. Thus burdened, and made the companion of erimi-
nals, his fortitude did not forsake him: conscious of his integrity, and of the
righteousness of the cause for which he suffered, he cast himself upon the wis-
dom and goodness of that Providence which had hitherto sustained him, and
rising sup?rior to disgrace felt and said,

“Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage ;

Minds innocent and quiet take

That for a hermitage.”—Hymn to the Pillory,

There can be little doubt that he associated occasionally with the prisoners,
and communicated those moral and religious instructions which he was so well
fitted to give. It is also probable that many of the desperate characters of his
novels were suggested by the companious he had here; and that the prison be-
game ax school of discipline, in which his mind was familiarized to degradation
and distress. But hitherto his writings had been devoted to politics, or those
plans by which the external condition of society might be ameliorated, and he
did not allow his imprisonment to divert him from his course. Twenty-two
pamphlets were written by him while in prison; and a pirated edition of his
works having been published, he gave the world “A True Collection of the
Writings of the Author of ‘The True-Born Englishman,’ corrected by him-
self.” It contains twenty-two pieces, and in some copies there is the following
advertisement :—

“Whereas there is a spurious collection of the writings of Mr. De Foe, author
of ‘The Tree-Born Hnglishman,’ which contain several things not writ by the
said author, and those that are full of errors, mistakes, and omissions, which
invert the sense and design of the author, This is to give notice that the gen-
uine collection, price six shillings, is corrected by himself, with additions
never before printed, hath the author’s picture before it, curiously engraved
on copper by Mr. Vandergucht; and contains more than double the number
of tracts inserted in the said spurious collection.”

This portrait was from a painting by Taverner, and represents the author in
such a dress as we may suppose he wore when he attended the levees of Wil-
liam and Mary. It is generally admitted to be the best likeness extant, and a
beautiful copy of it, engraved on wood by Clarkson, is prefixed to this edition.

The most important of the works which he projected in Newgate was “The
Review,” the first number of which was issued on Saturday, February 19,
1704, and continued weekly till the ninth number, when it was published twice
a week, on the Tuesdays and Saturdays. It consisted at first of eight quarto
pages, and was sold at the low price of one penny, but with the fifth num.
ber it was reduced to half a sheet, “the publishers of this paper. honestly
declaring that while they make it a whole sheet they get nothing by it;


and though the auihor is free to give his labours for God’s sake, they don’t
find it for their convenience to give their paper and print away.” The nine
quarto volumes of this work were solely written by himself, and continucd till
May, 1718, when it was finally abandoned. It was begun when its author was
in Newgate, and terminated when he was imprisoned again, under a shameful
prosecution. It would be impossible in our limits to convey any idea of the
variety of the contents of this work. The general tendency and design of the
articles were to subdue the prejudices of his countrymen, and give them juster
ideas of foreigners and foreign nations than they generally entertained—to give
information concerning trade, politics, and the general occurrences of the week
to put down immoral practices, such as duelling and the slave-trade—with
the conversation of a “Scandal Club,” upon matters of all kinds; and the
most thankless of all undertakings, to correct the blunders of the contempo-
rary press. At the close of the first year, he proposed to discontinue it; but
several who were interested in it, being desirous to have it continued, he con-
sented to oblige them if they would provide for the charges of the press,
“which he was sorry he was not in a condition to oblige them with also.”

The Review was doubtless the most popular periodical of the time, and with
the fifth volume it began to be reprinted in Edinburgh; but the author seems
never to have received much pecuniary benefit from it, and the labour he be-
stowed upon it must be solely attributed to his zeal for the public welfare. In
the seventh volume, he says: “Though I have the misfortune to amass infinite
enemies, and not at all to oblige even the men I serve, yet I defy the world to
prove I have directly or indirectly gained or received a single shilling, or the
value of it, by the sale of this paper for now almost four years; and honest
Mr. Morphew is able to detect me, if I speak false.”

The intemperate conduct of the Tory party, in 1704, brought on a period of
reaction. ‘The queen,” says De Foe, “though willing to favour the high-
church party, did not thereby design the ruin of those she did not employ, was
soon alarmed at their wild conduct, and turned them out, adhering to the
moderate counsels of those who better understood or more faithfully pursued
her majesty’s and the country’s interest.” A new ministry was formed, in
which Lord Godolphin, the Duke of Marlborough, and Mr. Harley were lead-
ing members ; the latter of whom, sensible of the influence so popular a writer
as De Foe would exert, opened a negotiation with him, immediately upon
coming into office. In his “Appeal to Honour and Justice,” it is thus
noticed :—

“While I lay friendless and distressed in the prison of Newgate, my family
ruined, and myself without hope of deliverance, a message was brought me
from a person of honour [Mr. Harley], who, till that time, I had never had
the least acquaintance with, or knowledge of, other than by fame, or by sight,
as we know men of quality by seeing them on public occasions. I gave no
present answer to the person who brought it, having not duly weighed the
import of the message. The message was by word of mouth thus:—‘ Pray,
ask that gentleman what I can do for him?’ But in return to this kind and

MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 21
4





a

ieee

v


92 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



generous message, I immediately took my pen and ink, and wrote the story
of the blind man in the Gospel, who followed our Saviour, and to whom our
blessed Lord put the question, ‘What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?’
Who, as if he had made it strange that such a question should be asked, or as
if he had said that I am blind, and yet ask me what thou shalt do for me?
My answer is plain in my misery, ‘Lord, that I may receive my sight?

‘I needed not to make the application. And from this time, although 1
lay four months in prison after this, and heard no more of it, yet from this
time, as I learned afterwards, this noble person made it his business to have
my case represented to her majesty, and methods taken for my deliverance.
f mention this part, because Iam no more to forget the obligation upon me to
the queen, than to my first benefactor.

“When her majesty came to have the truth of the case laid before her, I
soon felt the effects of her royal goodness and compassion. And first, her
majesty declared, that she left all that matter to a certain person [the Earl of
Nottingham], and did not think he would have used me in such a manner.
Probably these words may seem imaginary to some, and the speaking them to
be of no value, and so they would have been, had they not been followed with
further and more convincing proofs of what they imported, which were these,
that her majesty was pleased particularly to inquire into my circumstances and
family, and by my Lord-treasurer Godolphin to send a considerable supply to
my wife and family, and to send to me the prison-moncy to pay my fine and
the expenses of my discharge.

“ Being delivered from the distress I was in, her majesty, who was not satis-
fied to do me good by a single act of her bounty, had the goodness to think
of taking me into her service, and I had the honour to be employed in several
honourable, though secret services, by the interposition of my first benefactor,
who then appeared as a member in the public administration.”

Upon his release, in August, 1704, he retired to Bury St. Edmunds, “a town
famed for its pleasant situation and wholesome air, the Montpellier of Suffolk,
and perhaps of England; famous also for the number of gentry who reside in
the vicinity, and for the polite and agreeable conversation of the company
resorting there.”

De Foe was no sooner at liberty than it was rumoured that he had effected
an escape, and that warrants were issued for his apprehension; a mischievous
hoax was got up to annoy him; “his life threatened by bullying letters; his
ereditors roused to a general prosecution of him for debts, though under former
treaties and agreements, as if he was more able to discharge them now, reduced
by a known disaster, and ruined by a public storm, than before, when in pros-
perous circumstances, he was clearing himself of everybody, and all waited with
patience, being themselves satisfied; uow his morals were assaulted by impo-
tent and groundless slanders ; his principles cried down by envious friends as
well as malicious enemies. His endeavours for the public advantage prove
none to himself; his family and fortunes sink under his constant attempts for
the country’s welfare.—I have been told that ’tis no wonder all the threaten-




MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 93





ings, sham actions, and malicious prosecutions I speak of, are practised upon
me, since I am pushing at a party daily in lampoons, ballads, and clandestine
scandals; and that I must expect no other till I lay down this paper and all

other scribbles of such a nature... .. I have frequently answered this, as
to all the papers cried about in my name, assuring the world they have none
of them been wrote byme..... As to laying down the pen, or discontinuing

the subject I am upon, though I claim a privilege to be judge when I ought
to go backward or forward, yet to answer the proposal as to a cessation of pen
and ink debates, I shall make them a fair offer, which he that gives himself
the trouble to move me in it may make use of to the other party. Whenever
he will demonstrate they are inclined to peace, whenever the high-church party
will cease tacking of bills, invading the toleration, raising ecclesiastical alarms
against the dissenters and low-church ; will cease preaching up division, perse-
cution, and ruin of their protestant brethren; when all the crowd of high-
church advocates, Rehearsers, Observers, Leflectors, Whippers, Drivers [names
of periodicals and signatures of writers of that period] will declare a truce ;—
when these conditions may be observed I fairly promise to be so far a contri-
butor to the public peace, as to lay this [the Review] down, and turn the paper
to the innocent discourses of trade and the matters of history, first proposed.
Indeed, I must do so of course; for the peace will be then made, the end
answered, and consequently the argument useless.”

Such was De Foe’s popularity at this time, that he had to warn the publie
that printers, to make their pamphlets sell, affixed his name to things he “had
no concern in, erying them about the streets as mine ; nay, and at last are come
to that height of injury as to print my name to every scandalous trifle. . . .
I entreat my friends once for all, that whenever they meet with a penny or half-
penny paper, sold or cried about in the streets, they would conclude them not
mine. I never write penny papers, this excepted [the Review], nor ever shall,
unless my name is publicly set to them.”

In two years of comparative retirement, during a portion of which he
was compelled entirely to cease from labour on account of severe affliction,
upwards of thirty very considerable works proceeded from his pen, in addition
to the Review; now issued three times a week He also published the second
volume of his collected writings. It would be impossible to give even the
title-pages of these works here, but two of the opinions, in his “Giving Alms
no Charity,” are so pointed that we cannot avoid quoting them.

On vagrancy he says:—‘“No man that has limbs and his senses need beg;
and those that have not ought to be put in a condition not to want it, so that
begging is a mere scandal in the general. In the able, ’tis a scandal upon their
industry; and in the impotent, ’tis a scandal upon the country.”

His theory of population differs widely from the popular Malthusian theory
of the English political economists of the present day, and both in language
and sentiment corresponds with the principles so ably expounded by our fellow-
citizen, Henry C. Carey. “TI cannot but note that the glory, the strength, the
riches, the trade and all that is valuable in a nation as to its figure in the
24 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



world depends upon the number of its people, be they never so mean or poor.
The consumption of manufactures increases the manufacturers; the number
of manufacturers increases the consumption; provisions are consumed to feed
them, land improved, and more hands employed to furnish provisions. All the
wealth of the nation, and all the trade, is produced by numbers of people.”

In this period also he gave the first specimen of those inventive powers which
he exercised so successfully at a later period of life, in “A True Relation of
the Apparition of one Mrs. Veal, the next day after her death, to one Mrs.
Bargrave, at Canterbury, the 8th of September, 1705: which Apparition
recommends the Perusal of Drelincourt’s Book of Consolations against the
Fear of Death.” Being in company with the publisher of Drelincourt, who
complained of the dulness of the sale of the book, De Foe asked if the author
had blended aught of the supernatural in his work? The bookseller answered
in the negative. De Foe replied, “If you wish your book to sell, I will put you
in the way of it,” and immediately set about composing the story of the appa-
rition. The success was complete. It soon passed through forty editions; and
the recommendation of the ghost has been attended to by half the families in
England.

Sir Walter Scott, in illustrating the peculiar powers of De Foe in investing
fiction with all the tokens of reality, has entered into a particular analysis of
this story; and concludes, “that De Foe has put in foree within those few
pages, peculiar specimens of his art of recommending the most improbable
narrative by his specious and serious mode of telling it. Whoever will read
it as told by De Foe himself, will agree that could the thing have happened in
reality, soit would have been told. In short, the whole is so distinctly cir-
cumstantial, that were it not for the impossibility, or extreme improbability at
least, of such an occurrence, the evidence could not but support the story.”

In 1705, De Foe “had the honour to be employed in several honourable
though sceret services, in which he had run as much risk of his life as a gre
nadier upon the countersearp,” the particulars of which have not transpired,
but there is sufficient evidence that he executed them to the satisfaction of
Mr. Harley; and he received “an appointment,” probably a sinecure one, for
his services. He was absent from England about two months.

From 1706 to 1711, the attention of De Foe was principally directed to the
‘re at Glencoe, and by the



affairs of Scotland. Exasperated by the mas
manner in which the English government had treated their colony on the
Tsthmus of Darien, the Scottish parliament threatened to dissent from England
in the matter of the succession, unless there should be a free trade between the
two countries, and their affairs more thoroughly secured from English influence.
The English ministers then saw that it would be necessary to incorporate that
country with England, to prevent the Pretender from gaining the Scottish
crown; and exerted themselves so effectually in the Scottish parliament, that
an act was passed enabling the queen to nominate commissioners for the arrange-
ment of a union. Thirty commissioners were accordingly nominated on each
side; and though, with ‘ew excepticas, they were so friendly to the succession


MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 25



of the Hanoverian family and to the measures of the court, that no opposition
was expected from them; yet such was the unpopularity of the act, that it
was thought unsafe to venture upon it without using some means tc soften the
national prejudices. The paltry trade that Scotland even at this time carried
on was beheld by Englishmen with envy; they were annoyed at the wealth
of many of the Scotsmen who were settled among them, and felt it as so much
taken from themselves, instead of profiting by the example of industry, per-
severance, and economy they had sct them; and they spurned at union with a
beggarly country which could only burden them with its support. In Scotland
the opposition to the union was almost universal: they beheld in it the extine-
tion of their nation; and that peacefully if not treacherously accomplished
which England had for centuries vainly attempted to do by force. Especially
they feared for the safety of that church which they had so fondly cherished,
and which had tended so strongly to mould the national character. In these
circumstances Harley cast his eye upon De Foe, as one eminently qualified and
able to forward the measure. In England he was one of the most popular
writers: and being a Presbyterian and opposed to the prelatic party, he caleu-
lated that he would be favourably received in Scotland.

The idea was familiar to De Foe—he himself had suggested it to King
William ; one whole Review was devoted to the inculcation of peace and unity,
probably before the minister had spoken to him on the subject. He imme-
diately prepared to set out for Scotland, and arrived at Edinburgh in the
beginning of October, 1706, a few days before the articles of union were sub-
mitted to the Scottish parliament. Though without any official designation,
yet as the friend and adviser of the ministers, he was received by the commis-
sioners as one invested with plenipotentiary power. His business-habits enabled
hin to render to them essential service, in making those calculations on which
the imposts in future should be levied; and in his “History of the Union”
he enters into many curious particulars of these matters, and of the dangers
to which he and the commissioners were exposed from the infuriated mob.
But finding that there was nothing to fear from “the treaters within doors, I
thought it my duty,” says he, “to do my part without doors; and I knew no
part I could act in my sphere, so useful and proper, as to attempt to remove the
national prejudices, which both people, by the casualty of time and the errors
of parties, had too eagerly taken up, and were adhered to with too great tenacity.;
To this purpose I wrote ¢wo Essays against National: Prejudices in England,
while the treaty was in agitation there; and four more in Scotland, while it
was debating in the parliament there.”

With the same object, in December, 1706, he published, in Edinburgh,
“Caledonia, a poem in honour of Scotland and the Scots nation.” In it he
ulso invites the Scotch to an increased attention to the improvement of the agri-
culture and commerce of the country. During the sixteen months in which he
resided in Scotland, he made several excursions throughout the country, and
his observations upon what he saw there evince great sagacity. At this time
Scotiand contained scarcely a million of inhabitants, and even these were






Qi MEMUILR OF THE AUTHOR.



barely able to obtain a precarious existence. The best of the land was thought
capable of producing oats and barley only; and so late were the seasons,
that the poor husbandman had often to gather his scanty harvest amid the
snow. Famines were frequent, when the poor were forced to live on noxious
roots, and thousands of them died of hunger. But De Foe foresaw its future
greatness, and held out prospects of plenty. “The poverty of Scotland, and
the fruitfulness of Kngland, or rather the difference between them,” suid he,
“is owing not to mere difference of climate, or the nature of the soil; but to
the errors of time and their different vonstitutions.—Liberty and trade have
made the one rich, and tyranny the other poor.”

The union between the two countries was completed in May 1, 1707, but De
Foe continued in Scotland till January, 1708. During his absence, the Review
appeared regularly, and he assures the reader that, “though it is none of the
casiest things in the world to write a paper to come out three times a week,
and perhaps liable to more censure and ill-usage than other papers; and at the
same time, to reside for sixteen months together, at almost four hundred miles
distance from London, and sometimes more,” yet all the articles “are written
by D. F? On his return to London, he endeavoured to obtain a settlement
with his creditors; and after waiting on Mr. Harley and Lord Godolphin, im-
mediately returned to Scotland, as we find him at Kdinburgh in April.

In the beginning of this year, the intrigues which Mr. Harley had for some
time carried on through Mrs. Masham against his colleagues, the Duke of
Marlborough and Lord Godolphin, were discovered ; and they having insisted
upon the queen’s removing him from office, in February he tendered his resig-
vation. On learning Mr. Harley's retirement, De Foe returned to London,
with the intention of tendering his resignation and uniting his fate with him
whom he always designated his benefactor.

“When, upon that fatal breach,” says he, “the seeretary of state [Harley]
was dismissed from the service, 1 looked upon inyself as lost: it being a gene-
ral rule in such cases, when a great officer falls, that all who came in by his
interest fall with him; and resolving never to abandon the fortunes of the
man to whom I owed so much of my own, | quitted the usual applications
which I had made to my lord-treasurer.

“But my generous benefactor, when he understood it, frankly told me that
I should by no means do so; ‘For,’ said he, in the most engaging terms,
“my lord-treasurer will employ you in nothing but what is for the public ser-
vice, and agreeably to your own sentiments of things; and besides, it is the
queen you are serving, who has been very good to you. Pray, apply yourself
as you used to do; I shall not take it ill from you in the least.’

“Upon this, 1 went to wait on my lord-treasurer [Godolphin], who received
me with great freedom, and told me, smiling, he had not seen me a long while.
I told his lordship very frankly the occasion—that the unhappy breach that
had fallen out made me doubtful whether I should be acceptable to his lord-
ship. That I knew it was usual when great persons fall, that all who were mn
their intrest fell with them. hat his lordship knew the obligations I was


MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. ay





under, and that I could not but fear my interest in his lordship was lessened
on that account. ‘Not at all, Mr. De Foe,’ replied his lordship, ‘I always
think a man honest till I find to the contrary.’

“Upon this, T attended his lordship as usual ; and being resolved to remove
all possible ground of suspicion that T kept any sceret correspondence, I never
visited, or wrote to, or any way corresponded with my principal benefactor for
above three years; which he so well knew the reason of, and so well approved
that punctual behaviour in me, that he never took it ill from me at all.

“Tn consequence of this reception, my Lord Godolphin had the goodness not
only to introduce me for the second time to her majesty, and to the honour of
kissing her hand, but obtained for me the continuance of an appointment which
her majesty had been pleased to make me, in consideration of a former special
service Thad done, and in which T had run as much risk of my life as a gren-
ndier upon the countersearp; and which appointment, however, was first ob-
tained for mo at the intercession of my said first benefactor, nnd is all owing
to that intercession and her majesty’s bounty. Upon this second introduction,
her majesty was pleased to tell me, with a goodness peculiar to herself, that
she had such sutisfuction in my former services, that she had appointed me for
another affair, which was something nice, and that my lord-treasurer should tell
me the rest; and so I withdrew.

“The next day, his lordship having commanded me to attend, told mo that
he must send me to Scotland, and gave mo but three days to prepare myself.
Accordingly, I went to Scotland, where neither my business, nor the manner
of my discharging it, is material to this tract; nor will it be ever any part of
my character that I reveal what should be concealed. And yet, my errand was
such as was far from being unfit for a sovereign to direct, or an honest man to
perform ; and the service I did upon that occasion, as it is not unknown to the
greatest man now in the nation under the king and the prince, so, I dare say,
his grace was never displeased with the part I had in it, and I hope will not
forget it.’—An Appeal to Honour and Justice, pp. 14—16, Oxford ed.

As De Foe has not revealed what this “ something nice” was, it may be
fruitless to conjecture, but we find that immediately on his arrival in Edin-
burgh he visited Lord Belhaven, who was at this time a prisoner in the castle
there ; and from his conversation with that nobleman, and the assurances he
gave him of 2 favourable reception by her majesty when he should arrive at
London, it is plain that to comfort him under the wanton insult now-committed
upon his character and person was one of the objects of his mission.

As soon as the union was completed, De Foe intimated his intention of giving
an account of the transaction, but it was delayed till 1709, when it wus printed
at Edinburgh. This edition of “The History of the Union,” exclusive of
preliminary matter, contains 686 pages folio, and its subscription price in
shects, was 20s. It is dedicated to the queen and the Duke of Queensbury,
secretary of state for Scotland. Mr. Chalmers, in his “ Life of De Foe,” thus-
characterizes the work :—

“The minuteness with which 4e describes what he saw and heard on the




98 MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



turbulent stage, where he acted a conspicuous part, is extremely interesting to
us, who wish to know what actually passed, however this circumstantiality may
have disgusted contemporaneous readers. History is chiefly valuable as it
transmits 2 faithful copy of the manncrs and sentiments of every age. This
narrative of De Foe is a drama, in which he introduces the highest peers and
the lowest peasants, speaking and acting, according as they were each actuated
by their characteristic passions; and while the man of taste is amused by his
manner, the man of business may draw instruction from the documents, which
are appended to the end, and interspersed in every page. This publication
had alone preserved his name, had his Crusoe pleased us less.”—P. 51.

In 1710, De Foe resided at Stoke-Newington, and seems to have been in
comfortable circumstances. In November he again made an excursion to Scot-
land; and upon the 1st of February, the town-council of Edinburgh, grateful
for the services he had formerly rendered them, empowered him to publish the
Edinburgh Courant, and prohibited any other person to print news under the
name of that paper. He relinquished the publication after printing forty-five
numbers, and in the month of March returned to London.

“TI come now historically,” says De Foe, “to the point of time when my
Lord Godolphin was dismissed from his employment, and the late unhappy di-
vision broke out at court. T waited on my lord the day he was displaced, and
humbly asked his lordship’s direction what course I should take? His lord-
ship’s answer was, ‘That he had the same good-will to assist me, but not the
sume power; that I was the queen’s servant, and that all he had done for me
wis by her majesty’s special and particular direction ; and that whoever should
succeed him, it was not material to me; he supposed I should be employed in
nothing relating to the present differences. My business was to wait till I saw
things settled, and then apply myself to the ministers of state, to receive her
majesty’s commands from them.’



“Tt occurred to me immediately, as a principle for my conduct, that it was
not material to me what ministers her majesty was pleased to employ; my
duty was to go along with every ministry, so far as they did not break in upon
the constitution, and the laws and liberties of my country; my part being
only the duty of a subject, viz. to submit to all lawful commands, and to enter
into no service which was not justifiable by the laws; to all which I have ex-
actly obliged nyself.

“By this, I was providentially east back upon my original benefactor, who,
according to his wonted goodness, was pleased to lay my case before her ma-
jesty ; and thereby I preserved my interest in her majesty’s favour, but with-
out any engagement of service.”

Tt is impossible in this sketch to give any idea of the cighty political works
that proceeded from his pen, from his first journey into Scotland till the
death of Queen Anne, which may be considered synchronous with the termina-
tion of his own political careor. The reader is referred to Wilson’s Life and
Times of De Foe, from which the materials of this memoir are chiefly selected,
for a syuopsis of them. Those only that are necessary to complete the chain


MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 25

eee SS ee
of the narrative can be noticed. The members of the new cabinet, on coming
into power, immediately set about making a peace ; and in this service they
had the hearty co-operation of De Foe, who wrote several pamphlets and largely
in the Review in favour of “a good peace.” But-when it had been concluded
at Utrecht, and the terms became known, “I wrote a public paper at that time,
and there it remains upon record against me. I printed it openly, and that so
plainly that others durst not do it, that I did not like the peace.” He was
now placed as a mark for both parties, and so many pamphlets were daily
coming out in his name, of which he had no knowledge, that he deemed it pru-
dent to retire for a time from the contest, “and for the greater part of a year
never put pen to paper, except in the public paper called the Review.”

“ After this I was long absent in the north of England; and observing the
insolence of the Jacobite party, and how they insinuated fine things into the
heads of the people; in order to detect the influence of their emissaries, the first
thing I wrote was a small tract, called ‘A Scasonable Caution ;’ a book sincerely
written to open the eyes of the poor, ignorant country people, and to warn
them against the subtle insinuations of the emissaries of the Pretender; and
that it might be effectual to that purpose, I prevailed with several of my friends
to give them away among the poor people, all over England, especially in the
north; and several thousands were actually given away, the price being reduced
so low, that the bare expense of paper and press was only preserved.

“Next to this, and with the same sinccre design, I wrote two pamphlets,
one entitled, ‘What if the Pretender should come ?’ the other, ‘Reasons against
the Succession of the House of Hanover.’

“Nothing can be more plain than that the titles of these books were amuse-
ments, in order to put the books into the hands of those people whom the
Jacobites had deluded, and to bring them to be read by them. ,

“Previous to what I shall further say of these books, I must observe that
all these books met with so general a reception and approbation among those
who were most sincere for the Protestant succession, that they sent them all
over the kingdom, and recommended them to the people as excellent and
useful pieces; insomuch that about seven editions of them were printed, and
they were reprinted in other places. And I do protest, had his present majesty,
then elector of Hanover, given me a thousand pounds to have written for the
interest of his succession, and to expose and render the interest of the. Pre- .
tender odious and ridiculous, I could have done nothing more effectual to those
purposes than these books were.

“No man in this nation ever had a more riveted aversion to the Pretender,
and to all the family he pretended to come of, than I; a man that had been
in arms under the Duke of Monmouth, against the cruelty and arbitrary go-
vernment of his pretended father; that for twenty years had to my utmost
opposed him (King James) and his party after his abdication; and had served
King William to his satisfaction, and the friends of the Revolution after hi
death, at all hazards and upon all ocasions; that had suffered and been rujmec
under the administration of high-fliers and Jacobites, of whom some at this -





30. =; MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.

day counterfeit Whigs. It could not be! The nature of the thing could by
no means allow it; it must be monstrous. For these books I was prosecuted,
tuken into custody, and obliged to give 8002. bail.

“This matter making some noise, people began to inquire into it, and ask
what De Foc was prosecuted for, seeing the books were manifestly written
against the Pretender, and for the interest of the house of Hanover.—And my
friends expostulated freely with some of the men who appeared in it, who
answered with more truth than honesty, that they knew this book had nothing
in it, and that it was meant another way; but that De Foe had disobliged them
in other things, and they were resolved to take the advantage they had, both
to punish and expose him. They were no inconsiderable people who said this;
and had the case come to a trial, I had provided good evidence to prove the
words.

“Now, as this was the plot of a few men to see if they could brand me in
the world for a Jacobite, and persuade rash and ignorant people that I was
turned about for the Pretender, I think they might as casily have proved me
to be a Mohammedan; therefore, I say, this obliges me to state the matter as it
really stands, that impartial men may judge whether those books were written
for or against the Pretender. And this cannot be better done than by the
account of what followed after the information, which, in a few words, was
this :-—

“Upon the several days appointed, I appeared at the Queen’s Bench bar to
discharge my bail; and at last had an indictment for high crimes and mis-
demeanors exhibited against me by her majesty’s attorney-general, which, as I
was informed, contained two hundred sheets of paper.

“T was not ignorant that in such eases it is easy to make any book a libel,
and that the jury must have found the matter of fact in the indictment, viz.
that I had written such books, and then what might have followed I know not.
Wherefore, I thought it was my only way to cast myself on the clemency of
her majesty, of whose goodness I had so much experience many ways; repre-
senting in my petition, that I was far from the least intention to favour the
interest of the Pretender, but that the books were all written with a sincere
design to promote the interest of the house of Hanover; and humbly laid
before her majesty, as I do now before the rest of the world, the books them-
selves to plead in my behalf; representing further, that I was maliciously
informed against by those who were willing to put a construction upon the
expressions different from my true meaning; and therefore, flying to her
majesty’s goodness and clemency, I entreated her gracious pardon.

“It was not only the native disposition of her majesty to acts of clemency
and goodness that obtained me this pardon; but, as I was informed, her majesty
was pleased to express it in the council, ‘She saw nothing but private pique
in the first prosecution.’ 2

+ The reader must be struck by the resemblance between this prosecution and
the former one, for the publication of the “Shortest Way with the Dissenters.”
De Foe had been playing the same game and was caught in the same trap.


MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. 81

ee ee
At this time the friendship of Lord Oxford to a considerable degree saved ‘him
from the malice of his enemies, by taking the prosecution out of the hands
of the individual who instituted it, and intrusting it to the solicitor of the
treasury, who accepted a bail, thich by the original party was refused. One
of the consequences of this prosecution was the cessation of the Review, the
chief engine of his power; and feeling that his political life was drawing to a
close, he, shortly aftér, began his “ Appeal to Honour and Justice,” the reasons
for which are thus affectingly stated: “I think I have long enough been made
Fubula Vuigi, and borne the weight of general slander , and I should be wanting
to truth, to my family, and to myself, if I did not give a fair and true state of
my conduct, for impartial men to judge of, when Iam no more in being to
answer for myself. By the hints of mortality, and by the infirmities of a life
of sorrow and fatigue, I have reason to think I am not a great way off from,
if not very near to the great ocean of eternity, and the time may not be long
ere I embark on the last voyage. Wherefore, I think I should even accounts
with this world before I go, that no actions (slanders) may lie against my
heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, to disturb them in the peaceable
possession of their father’s (character) inheritance.”

While engaged in this narrative he was struck with apoplexy, and the work

was published in an unfinished state. After languishing six months he gra-
dually recovered, but was long very weak.

We will conclude this sketch of his political labours with a quotation from the
preface to the eighth volume of the Review, in which he thus sums up his
chequered life :—‘I know too much of the world to expect good in it, and
have learnt to value it too little to be concerned at the eyjJl. I have gone
through a life of wonders, and am the subject of a vast variety of providences;
T have been fed more by miracle than Elijah, when the ravens were his pur-
veyors. I have sometime ago summed up the scenes of my life in this distich:

“No man has tasted differing fortunes more,
And thirteen times I have been rich and poor.”

“In the school of affliction I have learnt more philosophy than at the aca-
demy, and more divinity than from the pulpit; in prison I have learnt to know
that liberty does not consist in open doors, and the free egress and regress of
locomotion. I have seen the rough side of the world as well as the smooth ;
and have in less than half a year tasted the difference between the closet of a
king and the dungeon of Newgate. I have suffered deeply for cleaving to
principles, of which integrity I have lived to say, none but those I suffered for
ever reproached me with it. I look in, and upon the narrowest search I can
make of my own thoughts, desires, and designs, I find a clear untainted prin-
ciple, and consequently an entire calm of conscience, founded upon the satisfying
sense, that I neither am touched with bribes, guided or influenced by. fear,
favour, hope, dependence, or reward from any person or party under heaven ;
and that I have written, and do write nothing but what is my native, free,
undirected opinion and judgment, and which was so many years ago. . I look
‘up, and without examining into His ways, tte sovereignty. of whose providence


32 ME.JOIR OF THE AUTHOR.



Tadore, I submit with an entire resignation to whatever happens to me, as

being by the immediate direction of that goodness, and for such wise and

glorious ends, as, however I may not yet see through, will at last issue in good,

even to me; fully depending, that I shall yet*be delivered from the power of

slander and reproach, and the sincerity of my conduct be yet cleared up to the
world: and if not, Ze Dewm laudamus.”

With the accession of the house of Hanover, De Foe beheld the triumph
of those’principles which it had been the object of his life to establish. The
author and his enemies were struck down together: but rising from his ashes
he was destined to begin a more glorious career. With renovated health, in
1715, he commenced writing that series of didactic and imaginative works
which has made his name immortal. The first of these, “The Family Instrue-
tor,” is a dialogue, designed to impress upon parents the duty of instructing ”

their children, and of children to listen to their instruction. To this work he
added a second volume in 1718, and another in 1727. The dialogue is well
sustained, and being a general favourite with the young it has passed through
many editions. Passing over six works in the catalogue, in 1717 we come to
“Memoirs of the Church of Seotland,”’ now very scarce and valuable; and in
1719, the immortal narrative of “Robinson Crusoe.” For the first part he
had difficulty in finding a bookseller; but it was so favourably received that
he was encouraged to proceed, and after an interval of about three months the
second part appeared. It is too well known to require recommendation. The
suecess of this work encouraged him to persevere in the same line, and in the
same year he published “ Dickory Cronke, the Dumb Philosopher.” In 1720,
“The Life and Adventures of Duncan Campbell,” and “The Pyracies of Capt.
Singleton.” In 1721 he published “ Moll Flanders;” and “Colonel Jacque,”
“The Religious Courtship,” “Memoirs of a Cavalier,” and “Journal of the
Plague Year,” in 1722.

Lord Chatham was in the habit of recommending the “Memoirs of a Cava-
lier” as the best account of the Civil War extant, and was not a little mortified
when told that it was a romance; and Dr. Meade and many others have sup-
posed that “The History of the Plague’ was an authentic history. “Had he
not been the author of Robinson Crusoe,” says Sir Walter Scott, “De Foe
would have deserved immortality for the genius which he has displayed in this
work.”

De Foc never tells a story for mere amusement. Asa painter of life he had to
take the world as he found it: as a moralist his aim was to leave it better. Our
space will not permit us to enter into an analysis of the fifty works which he
produced in this period, nor even to mention their names. In taking leave
of a man of genius, it is grateful that we need be the apologist of no vice.
Strictly pious, temperate, and virtuous, his name is left without reproach.

‘The latter years of his life were spent chiefly at Stoke-Newington. To him
it was a comparatively tranquil period, but not one of idleness. Mr. Baker,
the author of the work on the ‘ Microscope,” who married his youngest daugh-

nt ein
MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR 33

ter, left behind him a paper, in which he speaks of him as living “in a very
handsome house,” and supposed ‘from his genteel way of living, that he must
be able to giveshis daughter a decent portion.”

He spént his time in the “pursuit of his studies’ and in the “cultivation
of a large and pleasant garden.” It would have been pleasing after such a
life of toil and vicissitude to have left him thus, surrounded by his family}
peacefully enjoying the fruits of his labour in his old age. But for several
years before his death he was much tormented by gout and stone, and in 1730
he was again for a short time an inmate of a prison. ‘But it is not the blow
I received from this wicked, perjured, and contemptible enemy,” says he, in a
private letter to his son-in-law, “that has broken in upon my spirit. But it has
been the injustice, unkindness, and inhuman dealing of mine own son, which
has both ruined my family and broken my heart... . . I would say (I hope)
with comfort, that ’tis yet well. Iam so near my journey’s end, and am hast-
ening to the place where the weary are at rest, and where the wicked cease to
trouble; be it that the passage is rough, and the day stormy, by what way
soever He please to bring me to the end of it, I desire to finish life with this
temper of soul in all cases: Te Dewm laudamus.”

Having completed the allotted term of human existence, with a mind steadily
fixed upon the scenes beyond, he passed the boundaries of time into eternity,
on the twenty-fourth of April, 1731, in the same parish in which he was born

The origin of this edition is stated in the advertisement. The particulars
of the life of De Foe are so little known, that it was thought a memoir of him
would be acceptable; and the life by Chalmers, though a goésb work, being
now proved, by the investigations of Mr. Wilson, in many things to be incorrect,
‘it was thought necessary to compile a new one from original sources. “For
this purpose the materials were ample: the slanders of his enemies having
often compelled him to stand on his own defence, and the only task of the
editor has been to select judiciously. ;

The romance of Robinson Crusoe having been printed in so many forms, and
altered to suit the taste and convenience of its several publishers, is seldom to
be found in a perfect state. In preparing the Oxford edition of “De Foe’s
Miscellaneous Works,” in 1889, the early editions printed in his lifetime were
collected and compared, and the work issued as it came from the hands of the
author: of that edition this is a reprint; but it has been also carefully com-
pared with a copyright edition printed at Edinburgh in 1846, and several
slight errors corrected. With the exception of the omission of one vulgar
phrase, no way necessary to complete the sense, and which the author indicated
by dashes, thinking it improper to express it in words, no alteration has been

made; and it is believed that the edition here presented is the most perfect in
existence.





































































I was born in the year 1682, in the city of York, of a good family,
though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of Bremen,
who settled first at Hull. He got a good estate by merchandise, and,
leaving off his trade, lived afterwards at York, from whence he had
married my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very
good family in that country, and from whom I was called Robinson
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 which was a lieutenant-colonel to
an English regiment of foot in Flanders, formerly commanded by the
famous Colonel Lockhart, and was killed at the battle near Dunkirk
against the Spaniards: what became of my second brother, I never
knew, any more than my father or mother did know what was become
of me.

Being the third son of the family, and not bred to any trade, my |

head began to be filled very early with rambling thoughts: my father,
35
“BH THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

who was very ancient, had given me a competent share of learning, as
far as house education, and a country free school generally goes, and
designed me for the law; but 1 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 entreaties
and persuasions of my mother and other friends, that there seemed to
be something fatal in that propension of nature, tending directly to
the life of misery which was to befall me.

My father, a wise and grave man, gave me serious and excellent
counsel against what he foresaw was my design. He called me one
morning into his chamber, where he was confined by the gout, and ex-
postulated very warmly with me upon this subject. He asked me what
reasons, more than a mere wandering inclination, I had for leaving my
father’s house and my native country, where I might be well intro-
duced, and had a prospect of raising my fortune by application and
industry, with a life of ease and pleasure. He told me it was men of
des}+rate fortunes on one hand, or of aspiring superior fortunes on the
other, who went abroad upon adventures, to rise by enterprise, 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 labour and sufferings of the
mechanic part of mankind, and not embarrassed with the pride, luxury,
ambition, and envy of the upper part of mankind. He told me, I
might judge of the happiness of this state by this one thing, namely,
that this was the state of life which all other people envied; that kings
have frequently lamented the miserable consequences of being born to
great things, and wished ‘they had been placed in the middle of the
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.

He 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 uneasiness, either
of body or mind, as those were, who, by vicious living, luxury, and
extravagances, on one hand, or by hard labour, want of necessaries,
and mean or insufficient diet, on the other hand, bring distempers upon
‘themselves by the natural consequences of their way of living; that

_
OF ROBINSUN CRUSUVE. 37



the middle station of life was calculated for all kind of virtues,
and all kind of enjoyments; that peace and plenty were the hand-
maids of a middle fortune; that temperance, moderation, quietness,
health, society, all agreeable diversions, and all desirable pleasures,
were the blessings attending the middle station of life; that this way,
men went silently and smoothly through the world, and comfortably
out of it; not embarrassed with the labours of the hands or of the
head; not sold to a life of slavery for daily bread, or harassed with
perplexed circumstances, which rob the soul of peace and the body of
rest; not enraged with the passion of envy, or the 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; feeling that they are happy, and learning, by every day’s
experience, to know it more sensibly.

After this he pressed me earnestly, and in the most affectionate
manner, not to play the young man, or to precipitate myself into
miseries, which nature, and the station of life I was born in, seemed
to have provided against; that I was under no necessity of seeking
my bread; that he would do well for me, and endeavour to enter me
fairly 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 fate, 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 had used the same earnest persuasions to keep him from going into
the Low Country wars, but could not prevail, his young desires prompt-
ing 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 have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected his coun-
sel, when there might be none to assist in my recovery.

I observed, in this 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, espe-
cially 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 heart was so
full he could say no more to me.
38 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



I was sincerely afflicted 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 desire. But, alas! a few
days wore it all off; and, in short, to prevent any of my father’s far-
ther importunities, in a few weeks after, I resolved to run quite away
from him. However, I did not act so hastily neither, as the first heat
of my 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 any thing 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 too 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, but 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 go one voyage abroad, 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 subject;
that he knew too well what was my interest, to give his consent to any
such thing so much for 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 hel
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 destruction;
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
afterwards, that she reported all the discourse to him; and that my
father, after showing a 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 mean time I continued obstinately deaf to all proposals of settling
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 that
time; but, I say, being there, and one of my companions being’ going
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 39



by sea to London, in his father’s ship, and prompting me to go with
them, with the common allurement of a seafaring man, that it shou.3
cost me nothing for my passage, I consulted neither father nor mother
any more, nor so much as sent them word of it; but leaving them tu
hear 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, on the Ist of September, 1651, I went on board a
ship bound for London. Never any young adventurer’s misfortunes, I
believe, began sooner, or continued longer, than mine: the ship was
no sooner got out of the Humber, but the wind began to blow, and the
sea to rise in a most frightful manner; and as I had never been at sea
before, I was most inexpressibly sick in body, and terrified in mind.
I began now seriously to reflect upon what I had done, and how justly
I was overtaken by the judgment of Heaven for my wicked leaving
my father’s house, and abandoning my duty; all the good counsel of
my parents, my father’s tears and my mother’s entreaties, 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 breach of my duty to God and my
father.

All this while the storm increased, and the sea went very high,
though nothing like what I have seen many times since; no, nor what
I saw a few days after: but 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 that every time
the ship fell down, as I thought it did, in the trough, orshollow of the
sea, we should never rise more. In this agony of mind, I made many
vows and resolutions, that if it would please God to spare my life in
this one voyage, if ever I got once my foot upon dry land again, I
would go direetly home to my father, and never set it into a ship again
while I lived; but 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 com
fortable he had lived all his days, and never had been éxposed to tem-
pests at sea, or trouble on shore; and, in short, I resolved, that 1
would, like a true repenting prodigal, go home to my father.

These wise and sober thoughts continued all the while the storm *

continued, and indeed some time after; but the next day the wind was

abated, and the sea calmer, and I began to be a little inured told.



Bimeren I was very grave for all that day, being also a little sea-sr8

still; but towards night the weather cleared up, the wind was quite*~
over, and a charming fine evening followed; the sun went down -per-






Bs


4u THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

fectly 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 delightful that ever I saw.

I had slept well in the night, and was now no more sea-sick, but very
cheerful; looking with wonder upon the sea, that was so rough and
terrible the day before, and could be so calm and so pleasant in so lit-
tle a time after: and now, lest my good resolutions should continue.
my companion, who had indeed enticed me away, comes to me; ‘ Well,
Bob,” says he, clapping me upon the shoulder, “how do you do after
it? I warrant you were frightened, weren’t you, last night, when it
blew but a capful of wind ?’—“ A capful d’ye call it?” said I, “’twas a
terrible storm.’””—‘ A storm, you fool, you!”’ replies he, “do you call
that a storm? 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; but
you're but a fresh-water sailor, Bob; come, let us make a bowl of
punch, and we'll forget all that; d’ye see what charming weather ’tis
now?’ To make short this sad part of my story, we went the way of
all sailors; the punch was made, and I was made half drunk with it,
and in that one night’s wickedness I drowned all my repentance, all
my reflections upon my past conduct, all my resolutions for the future.
In a word, as the sea was returned to its smoothness of surface, and
settled calmness, by the abatement of that storm, so, the hurry of my
thoughts being over, my fears and apprehensions of being swallowed
up by the sea being forgotten, and the current of my former desires
returned, I entirely forgot the vows and promises that I made in my
distress. I found, indeed, some intervals of reflection; and the serious
thoughts did, as it were, endeavour to return again sometimes; but I
shook them off, and roused myself from them, as it were from a dis-
temper; and, applying myself to drinking and company, soon mastered
the return of those fits (for so I called them); and I had, in five or six
days, got as complete a victory over my conscience as any young fellow
that resolved not to be troubled with it could desire. But I was to
have another trial for it still; and Providence, as in such cases gene-
rally it does, resolved to leave me entirely without excuse: for if I
would not take this for a deliverance, the next was to be such an one
as the worst and most hardened wretch among us would confess both
the danger and the mercy.

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 an anchor,
and here we lay, the wind continuing contrary, namely, at south-west,
for seven or eight days; during which time, a great many ships from












r
SS 2 .
| Ltlward Hughes ; aa EE ="
CRUSOE AND BOB ABOARD SIITP. 41
49 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



Newcastle came into the same roads, as the common harbour where the
ships might wait for a wind for the river.

We had not, however, rid here so long, but we should have tided it
up the river, 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 harbour, 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 top-masts, 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 rid forecastle in, shipped
several seas, and we thought once or twice our anchor had come home ;
upon which our master ordered out the sheet anchor; so that we rode
with two anchors a-head, and the cables veered out to the better end.

By this time, it blew a terrible storm indeed; and now, I began to.
see terror and amazement in the faces even of the seamen themselves..
The master, though vigilant in the business of preserving the ship, yet
as he went in and out of his cabin by me, I could hear him, softly to.
himself, say, several times, “‘ Lord, be merciful to us! we shall be all
lost—we shall be all undone!’ and the like. During these first hur-
ries, I was stupid, lying still in my cabin, which was in the steerage,
and cannot describe my temper. I could ill resume the first penitence
which I had so apparently trampled upon, and hardened myself against :
I thought the bitterness of death had been past; and that this would
be nothing, too, like the first. But, when the master himself came by
me, as I said just now, and said we should be all 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 round us. Two ships that rid near us, we found,
had cut their masts by the board, being deep laden; and our men cried.
out, that a ship, which rid about a mile a-head of us, was foundered.
Two more ships, being driven from their anchors, were run out of the
roads to sea, at all adventures, and that with not a mast standing. The
light ships fared the best, as not so much labouring in the sea; but
two or three of them drove, and came close by us, running away with
only their sprit-sail out, before the wind.

Towards the evening, the mate and boatswain begged tne master of
our ship to let them cut away the foremast, which he was very unwill-
ing 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
OF ROBINSON CRUSUE. 43





foremast, the mainmast stood so loose, and shook the ship so much,
they were obliged to cut her away also, and make a clear deck.

Any one must judge what a condition I must be in at all this, who
was but a young 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 had
about me at that time, I was in tenfold more horror of mind upon ac-
count of my former convictions, and the having returned from them to
the resolutions I had wickedly taken at first, than I was at death itself;
and these, added to the terror of the storm, put me into such a condi-
tion, that I can by no words describe it. But the worst was not come
yet; the storm continued with such fury, that the seamen themselves
acknowledged they had never seen a worse. We had a good ship, but
she was deep laden, and wallowed in the sea, that the seamen every
now and then cried out she would founder. . It was my advantage in
one respect, that I did not know what they meant by founder, till I
inquired. However, 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 when 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 had been down on
purpose to see, cried out we had sprung a leak; 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 backwards upon the side of my bed where I sat, into the

‘cabin. However, the men roused me, and told me, that I that 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 the
sea, and would come near us, ordered to fire a gun as a signal-of dis-
tress. I, who knew nothing what that meant, was so surprised, that
I thought the ship.had broke, or some dreadful thing happenéd. In
a word, I was so surprised, that I fell down in a swoon. As this was
a time when everybody had his «wn life to think of, nobody minded
me, or what was become of me; but another man stepped up to the

pump, and, thrusting me aside with his foot, let me lie, thinking Thad -

been dead; and it was a great while before I came to myself.
We worked on, but the water increasing in the hold, it was apparent

~

that the ship would founder; and though the storm began to abate a.

little, yet as 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 a-head of us, ventured a boat out to help us.
























































































44 THE STORM.
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 45



It was with the utmost hazard the boat came near us; but it was
impossible for us to get on board, or for the boat to lie near the ship
side, till at last the men rowing very heartily, and venturing their lives
to save ours, our men cast them a rope over the stern with a buoy to
it, and then veered it out a great length, which they, after much labour
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 to their own ship; so all
agreed to let her drive, and only to pull her in towards 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 towards the shore, almost as far as Winterton Ness.

We were not much more than a quarter of an hour out of our ship,
but we saw her sink: and then I understood, for the first time, what
was meant by a ship 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 labouring 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 shore to assist us, when we should come near; but we made
but slow way towards the shore, nor were we able to reach the shore,
till being past the light-house at Winterton, the shore falls off to the
westward towards Cromer, and so the land broke off a little the
violence of the wind. Here we got in, and, though not without much
difficulty, got all safe on shore, and walked afterwards on foot to
Yarmouth, where, as unfortunate men, we were used with great
humanity, as well by the magistrates of the town, who assigned us
good quarters, as by particular merchants and owners of ships, and
had money given us sufficient to carry us either to London, or back to
Hull, as we thought fit.

Had I now had the sense to have gone back to Hull, and have gone
home, I had been happy, and my father, an emblem of our blessed
Saviour’s parable, had even killed the fatted calf for me; for hearing
the ship 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 now witn an obstinacy that nothing
could resist: and though I had several times loud calls from my reason


46 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

and 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, over-
ruling decree, that hurries us on to be the instruments of our own
destruction, even though it be before us, and that we push upon it with
our eyes open. Certainly, nothing but some such decreed unavoidable
misery attending, and which it was impossible for me to escape, could
have pushed me forward against the calm reasonings and persuasions
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 master’s 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 days, 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 shaking his head, asked me how I did:
and telling 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 very grave and concerned tone, “‘ Young man,” says he, ‘‘ you
ought never 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 you go to sea no more?’”’—‘“‘ That is another case,”
said he; “it is my calling, and therefore my duty; but as you made
this voyage for a trial, you see what a taste Heaven has given you, of
what you are to expect, if you persist: perhaps all this has befallen
us on your account, like Jonah in the ship of Tarshish. Pray,” con-
tinues he, “what are you? and on what account did you go to sea?”
Upon that I told him some of my story ; at the end of which he burst
out with a strange kind of passion: ‘What had I done,’ says he,
‘“‘that such an unhappy wretch should come into my ship? I would not
set my foot in the same ship with thee again for a thousand pounds.”
This indeed was, as I said, an excursion of the spirits, which were
yet agitated by the sense of his loss, and was farther than he
could have authority to go. However, he afterwards 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 no-
thing but disasters 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 thers, as well
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 4T

as on the road, had many struggles with myself, what course of life
T 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 neighbours, and should be ashamed to see, not
my father and mother only, but even everybody else ; from whence I
have since often 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, namely, that they are not ashamed to sin,
and yet are ashamed to repent; nor ashamed of the action for which
they ought justly to be esteemed fools, but are ashamed of the return-
ing, 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 irresistible reluctance con-
tinued to going home; and as I stayed a while, the remembrance of
the distress I had been in wore off; and, as that abated, the little mo-
tion 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 notion 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
‘command of my father,—I say, the same influence, whatever it was,
presented the most unfortunate of all enterprises to 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 the same time, I had learned the
‘duty and office of a foremastman, and in time might have qualified
myself for a mate or lieutenant, if not for a master. But as it was
always my fate to choose for the worse, so I did here; for, having
money in my pocket, and 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, or learned to do any.




48 THE LIFE AND~ ADVENTURES

CHAPTER II.

Make a trading Voyage to Guinea very successfully—Death of my Captain—Sail another
Trip with his Mate—The Vengeance of Providence for Disobedience to Parents now
overtakes me—Taken by a Sallee Rover, and all sold as Slaves—My Master fre-
quently sends me a-fishing, which suggests an idea of escape—Make my escape in
an open Boat, with a Moresco Boy.

Ir was my lot, first of all, to fall into pretty good company in Lon-
ton, which does not always happen to such loose and unguided 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 a 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; and who taking a fancy to my conversation, which was
not at all disagreeable at that time, hearing me say I had a mind to
see the world, told me, if I would go the voyage with him I should be
at no expense; I should be his messmate and his companion; and if I
could carry any thing with me, I should have all the advantage of it
that the trade would admit; and perhaps I might meet with some
encouragement. de

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 disin-
terested honesty of my friend, the captain, I increased very considera-
bly; for I carried about forty pounds in 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.as 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 integrity and honesty of my friend
the captain; under whom, also, I got a competent knowledge of the
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 understood 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 and a merchant: for I brought
home five pounds nine ounces of gold dust for my adventure, which




OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 49























































































4 iN : an
/ ff \ i i }









Uy



































ATTACK OF THE SALLEE ROVER.

yielded me in London, at my 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
excessive heat of the climate; our principal trading being upon the
coast, from the latitude of fifteen degrees north, even to the line itself.

I was now set up for a Guinea trader; and my friend, to my great
misfortune, dying soon after his arrival, I resolved to go the same voy-
age again; and I embarked in the same vessel with one who was his
mate in the former voyage, and had now got the command of the ship.
This was the unhappiest voyage that ever man made; for though I did

‘not carry quite £100 of my new-gained wealth, so that I had £200

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,—namely, our ship, making her course towards the Canary
Islands, or rather between those islands and the African shore, was

surprised, in the gray of the morning, by a Moorish rover of Sallee,

who gave chase to us with all the sail she could make. We crowded

also ag much canvas as our yards would spread, or our masts carry, to

have got clear; but finding the pirate gained upon us, and would cer-

tainly 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 after-
4
50 . THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES









































CRUSOE A SLAVE.

noon he came up with us, and bringing to, by mistake, just athwart
our quarter, instead of athwart our stern, as he intended, we brought
eight of our guns to bear on that side, and poured in a broadside upen
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. He prepared to attack us again, and we to defend our-
selves; but laying us on board the next time upon our other quarter,
he entered sixty men upon our decks, who immediately fell to cutting
and hacking the decks and rigging. We plied them with small shot,
half-pikes, powder-chests, and such like, and cleared our deck of them
twice. However, to cut short this melancholy part of our story, our
ship being disabled, and three of our men killed, and eight wounded,
we Were obliged to yield, and 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-


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 51





ness, At this surprising change of my circumstances, from a merchant
to a miserable slave, I was perfectly overwhelmed; and now I looked
back upon my father’s prophetic discourse to me, that I shoujd be
miserable, and have none to relieve me; which I thought was now so
effectually brought to pass, that I could not be worse; that now the
hand of Heaven had overtaken me, and I was undone without redemp-
tion. But, alas! this was but a taste of the misery I was to go through,
as will appear in the sequel of this story.

As my new patron or master had taken me home to his house, so I
was in hopes that he would take me with him when he went to sea
again, believing that it would be some time or other his fate to be taken
by a Spanish or Portugal 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 common drudgery of slaves about his house; and when he came
home again from his cruize, he ordered me to lie in the cabin, to look
after the ship.

Ilere I meditated nothing but my escape, and what method I sip
take to affect it; but found no way that had the least probability in it.
Nothing presented to make the supposition of it rational; for I had
nobody to communicate it to that would embark with me,—no fellow-
slave, no Englishman, Irishman, or Scotchman there, but myself; so
that for two years, though I often pleased myself with the imagination,
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
his ship, which, as I heard, was for want of money, he used constantly,
once or twice a-week, sometimes oftener, if the weather was fair, to
take the ship’s pinnace, 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 catching 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
ash of fish for him.

It happened one time, that going a-fishing with him in a calm morn-
ing, a fog rose so thick, that though we were not half a league from the
shore, we lost sight of it; and, rowing we knew not whither, or which
way, we laboured all day, and all the next night; and, when the morn- .
mg came, we found we had pulled off to sea, instead of pulling in for
the bona and that we were at least two leagues from the land: how-
ever, we got well in again, though with a great deal of labour, and


52 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



some danger ; for the wind began to blow pretty fresh in the morning ;
but, particularly, we were all very hungry.

But our patron, warned by this disaster, resolved to take more care
of himself for the future; and having lying by him the long-boat of our
English ship which he had taken, he resolved he would not go a-fishing
any more without a compass and some provision; so he ordered the
carpenter of his ship, who also was an English slave, to build a little
state-room, or cabin, in the middle of the long-boat, like that of a
barge, with a place 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 drink, particularly his bread, rice, and coffee.

We were frequently out with this boat a-fishing; and as I was most
dexterous to catch fish for him, he never went without me. It hap-
pened one day, that he had appointed to go out in this boat, either for
pleasure or for fish, with two or three Moors of some distinction, and
for whom he had provided extraordinary ; and had therefore sent on
board the boat over night a larger store of provisions than usual; and
had ordered me to get ready three fusils 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 had directed; and waited the next morn-
ing with the boat washed clean, her ancient 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 the 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; he commanded me, too, that as soon
as I 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 fishing business, but for a voyage; though I knew not, neither did
I so much as consider, whither I would steer; for anywhere to get
out of that place was my way.

My first contrivance was to make a pretence to speak to this Moor,
‘to get something for our subsistence on board; for I told him we must
not presume to eat of our patron’s bread: he said, that was true; se
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ~ 53



he brought a large 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
some 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-
veyed also a great lump of beeswax into the boat, which weighed above

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 afterwards, espe-
cially the wax to make candles. Another trick I tried upon him, which
he innocently came into also. His name was Ismael, whom they call
Muly, or Moley; so I called him: “‘Moley,” said I, “our patron’s
guns are on board the boat; can you not get a little powder and shot?
It may be we may kill some alcamies (a fowl like our curlews) for our
selves, for I know he keeps the gunner’s stores in the ship.” —“ Yes,”
says he, “I'll bring some ;” and accordingly he brought a great leather.
pouch, which held about a pound and a half of powder, or rather more,
and another with shot, that had five or six pounds, with some bullets,
and put all into the boat; at the same time I had found ‘some 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 every thing 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 were not
above a mile out of the port before we hauled in our sail, and set us down
to fish. The wind blew from the north-north-east, which was contrary
to my desire; for had it blown southerly, I had been sure to have made
the coast of Spain, and at least reached to the bay of Cadiz; but my
resolutions were, blow which way it would, I would be gone from that
horrid place where I was, and leave the rest to fate.

After we had fished some time, and eatched nothing—for when I
had fish on my hook I would not pull them up, that he might not see
them—I said to the Moor, ‘“ This will not do; our master will not be
thus served; we must stand farther off.” He, thinking no harm,
agreed, and being in the head of the boat, set the sails; and as I had
the hel, I ran the boat out near a league farther, and then brought
her to as if I would fish; when, giving the boy the helm, I stepped

forward to where the Moor was, and making as if I stooped for soms- ,

thing behind him, I took him by. surprise with my arm under his twigt,
and tossed him clear overboard into the sea: he rose immedistely for
he swam like a cork, and called to me, begged to be taken:ii,
he-would se all over the world with me :






a ewan 80 strong: ae *



& ub
‘64 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

little wind; upon which I stepped into the cabin, and fetching one of
the fowling-pieces, I presented it at him, and told him, I had done him
no hurt, and if he would be quiet I would do him none: “ But,” said
I, “you swim well enough to reach to the shore, and the sea is’calm;
make the best of your way to shore, and I will do you no harm; but
if you come near the boat, I'll shoot you through the head, for I am
resolved to have my liberty:’’ so he turned himself about, and swam
for the shore, and I make no doubt but he reached it with ease, for he
was an excellent swimmer.

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
he was gone, I turned to the boy, whom they called Xury, and said to
him, “‘ Xury, if you will be faithful to me, I'll make you a great man;
but if you will not stroke your face to be true to me (that is, swear
by Mohammed and his father’s beard), I must throw you into the sea
too.” The boy smiled in my face, and spoke so innocently that T
could not mistrust him; and swore to be faithful to me, and go all
over the world with me.

While I was in view of the Moor that was swimming, I stood out
directly to sea with the boat, rather stretching to windward, that they
might think me gone towards the Straits’ mouth, as indeed any one
that had been in their wits must have been supposed to do; for who
would have supposed we were sailed 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 merci-
less savages 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
toward the east, 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 first made the land, I could not be Icss than one hundred and fifty
miles south of Sallee, quite beyond the Emperor of Morocco’s domi-
unions, or, indeed, of any other king thereabouts, 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, tall I
had sailed in that manner five days; and then the wind shifting 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 to the
coast, and come to an anchor in the mouth of a little river, I knew


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 55



not what or where; neither what latitude, what counti’y, what nation,
or what river: I neither saw, or 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 dis-
cover 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
fcar, and begged of me not to go on shore till day. “Well, Xury,”
said I, “then I won't; but, it may be, we may see men by day, who
will be as bad to us as those lions.” —“ Then we give them the shoot
gun,” says Xury, laughing, “make them run wey.’ Such English
XAury 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
great 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 yellings that I never indeed heard the likes

Xury was dreadfully frighted, and indeed so was I too; but we
were both more frighted when we heard one of these mighty creatures
come swimming towards 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. ty
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 to sea;
they cannot follow us far.” I had no sooner said so, but I perceived.‘
the creature (whatever it was) within two oars’ length, which somethigy 3
surprised me; however, I immediately stepped to the cabin door, wd
taking up my gun, fired at him; upon which he immediately turned
about, and swam to the shore again.

But it was not possible to describe the horrible noises, and hideous
cries and howlings, that were raised, as well upon the edge of the shore,
as higher within the country, upon the noise or report of a gun:
thing I have some reason to believe those creatures had never i
before. This convinced me, that there was no going on shore for
in the night upon that coast; and how to venture on shore in the d
was another question too; for to have fallen into the’ bax
the savages, had been as bad as to have fallen a
and tigers; at least, we were oa apprehensive of ¢



oe!








/

ay’ THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



—w

other for water, for we had not a pint left in the boat; when o: 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 tome. I asked him why he would go? why I should not go, and
he stay in the boat? The boy answered with so much affection, that
made me love him ever after. Says he, “If wild mans come, they eat
me, you go wey.” —‘ 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 eat, and a dram out of our
patron’s case of bottles, which I mentioned before; and we hauled the
boat in as near the shore as we thought was proper, and waded on
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 towards me. I thought he was pursued by some savage,
or frighted with some wild beast, and I ran forward towards him to
help him; but when I came nearer to him, I saw something hanging
over his shoulders, which was a creature that he had shot, like a-hare,
but different in colour, 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 afterwards 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 flows but a little way up; 80 we
filled our jars, and feasted on the hare we had killed, and prepared to
go on our way, having scen no footsteps of any human creature in that
part of the country.

As I had been one voyage to the coast before, I knew very well that
the islands of the Canaries, and the Cape de Verd islands also, lay not
far off from the coast. But as I had no instruments to take an obser-
vation to know what latitude we were in, and did not exactly know, or
at least not remember, what latitude they were in, and knew not where
to look for them, or when to stand off to sea towards them; otherwise
I might now easily have found some of these islands. But my hope
was, that if I stood along this coast till I came to that 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, that place where I now was, must be
that country, which, lying between the Emperor of Morocco’s domin-
ions and the Negroes, lies waste, and uninhabited, except by wild
wee ae

OF ROBEYSON CRUSOE. ~— 5



beasts; the Negroes having abandoned it, and gone farther south for
fear of the Moors; and the Moors not thiztking it worth inhabitmg,
by reason of its barrenness ; and, indeed, both forsaking it because of
the prodigious numbers of tigers, lions, leopards, and other furious
creatures which harbour there; so that the Moors use it for their hunt-
ing 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 howlings and roaring of wild beasts by night.

Once or twice in the day time I thought I saw the Pico of Teneriffe,
being the high top of the mountain Teneriffe in the Canaries; and had
a great mind to venture out in hopes of reaching thither; but having
tried twice, I was forced in again by contrary winds, the sea also going
too high for my little vessel; so I resolved to pursue my first 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, we
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 mine were, calls softly
to me, and tells me, that we had best go farther off the shore; “‘ For,”
says he, “look, yonder lies a dreadful monster, on the side of that
hillock, fast 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,
a little over him. “ Xury,” says I, “you shall go on shore and kill
him.” Xury looked frighted, and said, “Me kill! he eat me at one
mouth :” one mouthful he meant: however, I said no more to the boy,
but bade him lie 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 the 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 into the head, but he lay so with his leg raised a little.
above his nose, that the slugs hit his leg 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 upon three legs, and gave the most
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 immediatel
und though he began to move off, fired again, and shot him into,
head, and had the pleasure to see him drop, and make but little:
but lie struggling for life. Then Xury took heart, and would have ma .







58 THE LIFE AND :\DVENTURES



let him go on shore: “ Well, go,” said 1; 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 ear, and shot him into the head again, which despatched
him quite.

This was game indeed to us, but this was no food; and I was very
sorry to lose three charges of powder and shot upon a creature that
was good for nothing to us. However, Xury said he would have some
of him; so he comes on board, and asked me to give him the hatchet.—
“ For what, Xury ?”’ said I.—‘ Me cut off his head,” said he. How-
ever, Xury could not cut off his head, but he cut off a foot, and brought
it with him, and it was a monstrous great one.

I bethought myself, 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 Xury and I went to work with him; but Xury
was much the better workman at it, for I knew very ill how to do it.
Indeed, it took us both up the whole day, but at last we got off the
hide of him, and, spreading it on the top of our cabin, the sun effect-
ually dried it in two days’ time, and it afterwards served me to lie
upon.

CHAPTER III.

Make for the Southward, in hopes of meeting with some European vessel—See Savages
along shore—Shoot a large Leopard—Am taken up by a Merchantman—Arrive at
the Brazils, and buy a Settlement there—Cannot be quiet, but sail on a Voyage of
Adventure to Guinea—Ship strikes on a Sand-bank in unknown Land—All lost but
mystif, who am driven ashore, half-dead.

AFTER this stop, we made on to the southward continually for ten or
twelve days, living very sparing on our provisions, which began to abate
very much, and going uno oftener into the shore than we were obliged
to for fresh water; my design in this was, to make the river Gambia
or Senegal, that is to say, anywhere about the Cape de Verd, where 1
was in hopes to meet with some European ship; and if I did not, I
knew not what course I had to take, but to seek for the islands, or
perish there 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.

ea
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 59



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 three
places, as we sailed by, we saw people stand upon the shore. to look at _
us: we could also perceive that they were quite black, and stark naked.
I was once inclined to go 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 throw them a great way with good aim ,
so I kept at a distance, but talked with them by signs as well as 1
could, and particularly made signs for something to eat; they beckoned
to me to stop my boat, and they would fetch me 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 came back, and brought
with them two pieces of dry flesh and some corn, such as is the produce
of their country; but we neither knew what the one nor 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 towards the sea: whether it was the male pursuing the
female, or whether they were in sport or in rage, we coald: 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, thqse ravenous
creatures seldom appear but in the night; and, in the second place, we
found the people terribly frighted, 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 themselves
into the sea, and swam about as if they had come for-their diversion. At
last one of them began to come nearer our boat than at first I expected ;
but I. lay ready for him, for I had loaded my gun with all ‘possible .
expedition, and bade Xury load both the others. As soon, pache came
fairly within my reach I fired, und shot him directly into the head ;
immediately he sank down into thgywater, -but rose instantly: 9 ni






60 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES





plunged up and down as if he was struggling for life, and so indeed he
was: he immediately made to the shore; but between the wound, which
was his mortal hurt, and the strangling of the water, he died just before
he reached the shore.

It is impossible to express the astonishment of these poor creatures
at the noise and the 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 them 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, spotted and fine to an admirable
degree, and the negroes held up their hands with admiration to think
what it was I had killed him with.

The other creature, frighted 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 favour from me, which,
when I made signs to them that they might take him, they were very
thankful for. Immediately they fell to work with him, and though
they had no knife, yet with a sharpened piece of wood they took off his
skin, as readily and much more readily than we could have done with
a knife. They offered me some of the flesh, which I declined, making
as if I would give it them, but made signs for the skin, which they
gave me very frecly, and brought me a great deal more of their
provision, which, though I did not understand, yet I accepted; then
I made signs to them for some water, and held out one of my jars to
them, turning it bottom upward, to show that it was empty, and that I
wanted to have it filled. They called immediately to some of their
friends, and there came two women, and brought a great vessel made
of earth, and burned, as I suppose, in the sun; this they set down for
me, as before, and I sent Xury on shore with my jars, and filled them
all three. The women were as stark naked as the men.

I was now furnished with roots and corn, such as it was, and water;
and leaving my friendly Negroes, I made forward for about eleven days
more, without offering to go near the shore, till I saw the land run out
a great length into the sea, at about the distance of four or five leagues
vefore me; and the sea being very calm, I kept a large offing to make
this point: at length, doubling the point at about two leagues from
the land, I saw plainly land on the other side to sea-ward; then J


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 61 .



concluded, as was most certain indeed, that this was the Cape de Verd,
and those the islands, called from thence Cape de Verd Islands,
However, they were at a great distance, and I could not tell what I
had best to do; for if I should be taken with a fresh of wind, I might
neither reach one nor the other.

In this dilemma, as I was very pensive, I stepped into the cabin .
and sat me down, Xury having the helm, when, on a sudden, the boy
cried out, “‘ Master, master, a ship with a sail!’’ and the foolish boy
was frighted out of his wits, thinking it must needs be some of his
master’s ships sent to pursue us, when I knew we were gotten far
enough out of their reach. I jumped out of the cabin, and imme-
diately saw, not only the ship, but what she was, namely, that it was a
Portuguese ship, and, as I thought, was bound to the coast of Guinea
for Negroes. But when I observed the course she steered, I was soon
convinced that they were bound some other way, and did not‘design to
come any nearer to the shore; upon which I stretched out to sea as
much as I could, resolving to speak with them, if possible.

With all the sail I could make, I found I should not be able to
come in their way, but that they would be gone by before I could
make any signal to them; but after I had crowded to the utmost, and
began to despair, they, it seems, saw me by the help of their perspec-
tive glasses, and that it was some European boat, which, as they
supposed, must belong to some ship that was lost; so they shortened
sail to let me come up. I was encouraged with this; and ag I had my
fatron’s ancient on board, I made a waft of it to them for a signal of
distress, and fired a gun, both which they saw, for they told me they
saw the smoke, though they did not hear the gun. Upon these signals
they very kindly brought to, and lay by for me, and, in about three
hours’ time, I came up with them.

They asked me what I was, in Portuguese, and in Spanish, and in
French; but I understood none of them: but, at last, a Scots sailor,
who was on board, called to me, and I answered him, and told him I
was an Englishman, that I had made my escape out of slavery from the
Moors at Sallee. They bade me come on board, and very kindly took
me in, and all my goods.

It was an inexpressible joy to me, as any one would believe, that I
was thus delivered, as I esteemed it, from such a miserable and almost
hopeless condition as I was in, and immediately offered all I had to the
captain of the ship, as a return for my deliverance; but he generously
told me, he would take nothing from me, but that all I had shouldbe ~
delivered safe to me when I came to the Brazils; ‘“ For,” says he, “I
have saved your life on no other terms than I would be glad to be’


‘lp 62 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

saved myself; and it may one time or other be my lot to be taken up
in the, § same condition: besides,” said he, “when I carry you to the
‘Br azils, 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 have given. No, no, Seignor Inglese,”’ says he, “ Mr.
Englishman, I will carry you thither in charity, and those things will
help you to buy your subsistence there, and your passage home
again.



As he was charitable in his proposal, so he was just in the perform-

ance to a tittle; for he ordered the seamen, that none should offer to
ouch any thing I had: then he took every thing into his own posses-

sion, and gave me back an exact inventory of them, that I might have
them: even so much as my 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 in every thing that I
could not offer to make any price of the boat, but left it entirely to
him; upon which he told me he would give me a note of his 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: he offered mé so

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. However, when I let him know my reason, he

owntd it to be just, and offered me this medium, that he would give

- the boy an obligation to set him free in ten years, if he turned Chris-

tian. Upon this, and Xury saying he was willing to go to him, I let
the captain have him.

We had a very good voyage to the Brazils, and arrived in the Bay
de Todos los Santos, or All Saints’ Bay, in about twenty-two days after.
And now I was once more delivered from the most miserable of all
conditions of life; and what to do next with myself I was now to
consider.

The generous 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 every thing I had in the ship to
be punctually delivered me; and what I was willing to sell he bought,
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; in 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.


OF ROBINSON .CRUSOE. 63

I had not been long here, but being recommended to the house of u
good honest man like himself, who had an ingeino, 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 their planting
and making of sugar; and seeing how well the planters lived, and how
they grew rich suddenly, I resolved, if I could get license to settle

there, I would turn planter among them; resolving, in the mean time, -

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 a letter of natural-
ization, I purchased as much land that was uncured as my money would
reach, and formed a plan for my plantation and settlement, and such
a one as might be suitable to the stock which I proposed to myself to
receive from England.

I had a neighbour, a Portuguese of Lisbon, but born of English
parents, whose name was Wells, and in much such circumstances as ]
was. I call him neighbour, 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 any thing else, for about
two years. However, we began to increase, and our land began te
com@ into order; so that the ‘third year we planted some tobacco, and
made each of us a large piece of ground ready for planting vanes 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

to

wonder: I had no remedy but to go on; I was gotten into an employ- . :

ment quite remote to my genius, and directly contrary to the life I
delighted in, and for which I forsook my father’s house, and broke
through all his good advice; nay, I was coming into the very middle
station, or upper degree of low life, which my father advised me to
before; 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 I had
done; and I used often to say to myself, I could have done this as well
in England among my friends, as have gone five thousand. miles off to
do it among strangers and savages in a wilderness, and at such 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-
bour; no work to be done but by the labour of my hands;; jand I ‘Miped
to say, I lived just like a man cast away upon some desolate i



that had nobody there but himself. But how just has ip been, and. b how .

should all. men reflect, that, when they pontgare their pres

en





de

64 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



with others that are worse, ‘Heaven may oblige them 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 exceeding 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
loading, and preparing for his voyage, near three months; when, tell-
ing him what little stock I had left behind me in London, he gave me
this friendly and sincere advice: ‘‘Seignor Inglese,” says he, for so
he always called me, “if you will give me letters, and a procuration
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 first; so that if it comes safe, you
may order the rest the same way; and if it miscarry, you may have
the other half to have recourse to for your supply.”

This was so wholesome advice, and looked so friendly, that I could
not but be convinced it was the best course I could take; so I accord-
ingly prepared letters to the gentlewoman with whom I had left my
money, and a procuration to the Portuguese captain, as he desired.

I wrote the English captain’s widow a full account of all my adven-
tures, my slavery, escape, and how I had met with the Portugal cap-
tain at sea, the humanity of his behaviour, and what condition I was
now in, with all other necessary directions for my supply ; and when
this honest captain came to Lisbon, he found means, by some of the
English merchants there, to send over, not the order only, but a full
account of my story, to a merchant at London, who represented it
effectually to her; whereupon, she not only delivered the money, but,
out of her own pocket, sent the Portugal captain a very handsome pre-
sent for his humanity and charity to me.

The merchant in London vesting this hundred pounds in English
goods, such as the captain had writ for, sent them directly to him at
Lisbon, and he brought them all safe to me to the Brazils; among
which, without my direction (for I was too young in my business to
think o* them), he had taken care to have all sort of tools, iron-work,


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 65



and utensils necessary for my plantation, and which were of great use
to me.

When this cargo arrived, I thought my fortune made, for I was sur-
prised with joy of it; and my good steward, the captain, had laid out
the five pounds, which my friend had sent him for a present for him-
self, to purchase, and bring me over a servant under bond for six years’
service, and would not accept of any consideration, except a little
tobacco, which I would have him accept, being of my own produce.

Neither was this all; but my goods being all English manufactures,
such as cloth, stuffs, baize, and things particularly valuable and desira-
ble in the country, I found means to sell them to a very great advan-
tage; so that I may say, I had more than four times the value of my
first cargo, and was now infinitely beyond my poor neighbour, I mean
in the advancement of my plantation; for the first thing I did, I
bought me a Negro slave, and an European servant also; I mean
another besides that which the captain brought me from Lisbon.

But as abused prosperity is oftentimes made the means of our
greatest adversity, so was it with me. I went on the next year with
great success in my plantation: I raised fifty great rolls of tobacco on
my own ground, more than I had disposed of for necessaries among
my neighbours; and these fifty rolls, being each of above a hundred
weight, were well cured and laid by against the return of the fleet from
Lisbon. And now, increasing in business and in wealth, my head
began to be full of projects and undertakings beyond my reach; such
as are, indeed, often the ruin of the best heads in 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 quiet retired life, and of which he had so sensibly
described the middle station of life to be full; but 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 my-
self, which in my future sorrows I should have leisure to make, all
these miscarriages were procured by my apparent obstinate adhering
to my foolish inclination of wandering abroad, and pursuing that in-
clination, in contradiction to the clearest views of doing myself good
in a fair and plain pursuit of those prospects and those measynes of ©
I'fe, which nature and Providence concurred to present me wit;’and K
to make my duty.

As I had done thus in my breaking away from my pagents, so I
could not be content now, but I must go and leave the happy view _
had of being a rich and thriving man in my new plantatiog,. 1¥. 80°
pursue a rash and immoderate desire of rising faster. than. t but

5




66 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

of the thing admitted; and thus I cast myself down again into the
deepest gulf of human misery that ever man fell into, or perhaps could
be consistent with life and a state of health in the 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 upon my
plantation, I had not only learned the language, but had contracted
acquaintance and friendship among my fellow planters, as well as
among the merchants at St. Salvadore, which was our port; and that
in my discourse among them, I had frequently given them an account
of my two voyages to the coast of Guinea, the manner of trading with
the Negroes there, and how easy it was to purchase upon 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
heads, but especially to that part which related to the buying Negroes,
which was a trade at that time not only not far entered into, but, as
far as it was, had been carried on by the assientos, or permission, of
the kings of Spain and Portugal, and engrossed in the public, so that
few Negroes were bought, and those excessive dear.

It happened, being in company with some merchants and planters
of my acquaintance, and talking of those things very earnestly, three
of them came to me the next morning, and told me, they had been
musing very much upon what I had discoursed with them of the last
night, and they came to make a secret proposal to me; and, after en-
joining me secrecy, they told me, that they had a mind to fit out a
ship to go to Guinea; that they had all plantations as well as I, and
were straitened for nothing so much as servants; that as it was a
trade could not be carried on, because they could not publicly sell the
Negroes when they came home, so they desired to make but one voy-
age, to bring the Negroes on shore privately, and divide them among
their own plantations; and, in a word, the question was, whether T
would go their supercargo in the ship, to manage the trading part upon
the coast of Guinea? cnd they offered me, that I should have my 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 had 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 for me, that was thus entered
and established, and had nothing to do but go on as I had begun, for
three or fuur years more, and to have sent for the other hundred

—.
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. «67



pounds from England, and who, in that time and with that little addi-
tion, could scarce have failed of being worth three or four thousand
pounds sterling, and that increasing too,—for me to think of such a
voyage, was the most preposterous thing that ever man in such cir-
cumstances 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, I 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, disposing
of my plantation and effects, in case of my death, making the captain
of the ship, that had saved my life as before, my universal heir, but
obliging him to dispose of my effects as I had directed in my will, one
half of the produce being to himself, and the other to be shipped to
England.

In short, I took all possible caution to preserve my effects, and keep
up my plantation: had I used half as much prudence to have looked
into my own interest, and have made a judgment of what I ought to
have done, and not to have done, I had certainly never gone away
from so prosperous an undertaking, leaving all the probable views of
a thriving circumstance, and gone upon a voyage to sea, attended with
all its common hazards; to say nothing of the reasons I had to expect
particular misfortunes to myself.

But I was hurried on, and obeyed blindly the dictates of my fancy,
rather than my reason: and accordingly, the ship being fitted out, and
the cargo furnished, and all things done as by agreement by my part-
ners in the voyage, I went on board in an evil hour again, the Ist of
September, 1659, being the same day eight years that I ‘went: from
my father and mother at Hull, in order to act the rebel to their’ ‘autho-
rity, and the fool to my own interest.

Our ship was about one hundred and twenty tons 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 little looking-glasses, knives, scissors, hatchets,
and the like.

The same day I went on board we set sail, stax
northward upon our own coast, with design to stretch,
African coast; when they came about ten or twelve degreés.a
latitude, hich, it seems, was the manner of their course in ht









68 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

We had very good weather, only excessive hot, all the way upon our
vwn coast, till we came to the height of Cape St. Augustino, from
whence keeping farther off at sea, we lost sight of land, and steered as
if we were bound for the isle Fernand de Noronha, holding our course
north-east by north, and leaving those isles on the east. In this
course we passed the line in about twelve days’ time, and were, by
our last observation, in seven degrees twenty-two minutes northern
latitude, when a violent tornado, or hurricane, took us quite out of our
knowledge: it began from the south-east, came about to the north-west,
and then settled into the north-east; 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 whither ever fate
and the fury of the winds directed; and during those 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, one of our
men died of the calenture, and one man and the 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
he was gotten upon the coast of Guinea, or the north part of Brazil,
beyond the river Amazons, toward that of the river Oroonoque, com-
monly called the Great River, and began to consult with me what
course he should take; for the ship was leaky, and very much disabled,
and he was going directly back to the coast of Brazil.

I was positively against that, and, looking over the charts of the
sea-coasts of America with him, we concluded, there was no inhabited
country for us to have recourse to, till we came within the circle of
the Caribbee Islands; and therefore resolved to stand away for Bar-
badoes, which, by keeping off at sea, to avoid the indraft of the bay or
gulf of Mexico, we might easily perform, as we hoped, in about fifteen
days’ sail; whereas we could not possibly make our voyage to the
coast of Africa, without some assistance, both to our ship and ourselves.

With this design we changed our course, and steered away north-
west by west, in order to reach some of our English islands, where I
hoped for relief: but our voyage was otherwise determined; for, being
in the 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 danger of bemg
devoured by savages than ever returning to our own country.


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 69



In this distress, the wind still blowing very hard, one of our men,
early in the morning, cried out, “‘Land!’’ and we had no sooner run
out of the cabin to look out, in hopes of seeing whereabouts in the
world we were, but the ship struck upon a sand, and, in a moment,
her motion being so stopped, the sea broke over her in such a manner
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
inhabited ; 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 winds, by a kind
of miracle, should turn immediately about. In a word, we sat looking
one upon another, and expecting death every moment, and every man
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 com-
fort, 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 wind did a little abate, yet the
ship having thus struck upon the sand, and sticking too fast for us to
expect her getting off, we were in a dreadful condition indeed, and had
nothing to do but to think of saving our lives as well as we could. We
had a boat at our stern just before the storm; but she was first staved
by dashing against the ship’s rudder, and, in the next place, she broke
away, and either sunk or was driven off to sea; so there was no hope
from her. We had another boat on board, but how to get her off into
the sea was a doubtful thing; however, there was no room to debate,
for we fancied the ship would break in pieces every minute, and some
told us she was actually broken already. ae
In this distress, the mate of our vessel lays hold of the boat, and
with the help of the rest of the men they got her slung over the ship’s
side, an, getting all into her, let go, and committed ourselves, . being
eleven in number, to God’s mercy and the wild sea; for though :the; i
storm was abated considerably, yet the sea went dreadful high 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 ali-saw ‘plainly,
tha* the sea went so high that the boat eanld not live, wad. th







70 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

should be inevitably drowned. As to making sail, we had none, nor,
if we had, could we have done any thing with it; so we worked at the
oar towards the land, though with heavy hearts, like men going to
execution ; for we all knew, that when the boat came nearer the shore,
she would be dashed in a thousand pieces by the breach of the sea.
However, we committed our souls to God in the most earnest manner;
and the wind driving us towards the shore, we hastened our destruction
with our own hands, pulling as well as we could towards land.

What the shore was, whether rock or sand, whether steep or shoal,
we knew not; the only hope that could rationally give us the least
shadow of expectation was, if we might happen into some bay or gulf,
or the mouth of some river, where, by great chance, we might have
run our boat in, or got under the lee of the land, and perhaps made
smooth water. But there was nothing of this appeared; but, as we
made nearer and nearer the shore, the land looked more frightful than
the sea.

After we had rowed, or rather driven, about a league and a half, as
we reckoned it, a raging wave, mountain-like, came rolling astern of
us, and plainly bade us expect the coup-de-grace. In a word, it took
us with such a 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 O God! for we were all swallowed up in a moment.

Nothing can describe the confusion of thought which I felt when I

- sank into the water; for though I swam very well, yet I could not
deliver myself from the waves so as to draw breath, till that wave hav-
ing driven me, or rather carried me, a vast way on towards the shore,
and, having spent itself, went back, and left me upon the land almost
dry, but half dead with the water I took in. I had so much presence
of mind, as well as breath left, that seeing myself nearer the mainland
than I expected, I got upon my feet, and endeavoured to make on
towards the land as fast as I could, before another wave should return
and take meup again. But I soon found it was impossible to avoid it ;
for I saw the sea come after me as high as a great hill, and as furious
as an enemy, which I had no means or strength to contend with. My
business was to hold my breath, and raise myself upon the water, if I
could; and so, by swimming, to preserve my breathing, and pilot my-
self towards the shore, if possible; my greatest’: concern now being,
that the sea, as it would carry mea great way towards the shore
when it came on, might not carry me back again with it when it gave
back towards the sea.

The wave that came upon me again, buried me at once twenty oz
thirty feet deep in its own body ; and I could feel myself carricd with
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. T1



a mighty force and swiftness towards the shore a very great way; but,
I held my breath, and assisted myself to swim still forward with all my
might. I was ready to burst, with holding my breath, when, as I felt
myself rising up, so, to my immediate relief, I found my head and
hands shoot out above the surface of the water; and though it was
not two seconds of time that I could keep myself so, yet it relieved
me greatly, gave me breath and new courage. I was covered agin
with water a good while, but not so long but I held it out ; and, findmg
the water had spent itself, and began to return, I struck forward
against the return of the waves, and felt ground again with my feet.
I stood still a few moments to recover breath, and till the water went
from me, and then took to my heels, and ran with what strength I had
farther towards the shore. But neither would this deliver me from
the fury of the sea, which came pouring in after me again; and twice
more I was lifted up by the waves, and carried forwards as before, the
shore being very flat.

The last time of these two had well near been fatal to me; for the
sea, having hurried me along as before, landed me, or rather dashed
me, against a piece of a rock, and that with such force as it left me
senseless, 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 -
body; and, had it returned again immediately, I must have been
strangled in the water; but I recovered a little before the return of
the waves, and, seeing I should be covered again with the water, I
resolved 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 at first, being near land, I held my hold till the wave abated,
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 swallow 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 clifts 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, scarce 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 very grave; and I do not
wonder, now, at that custom, namely, 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 telk -

te


"2 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



him of it, that the surprise may not drive the animal spirits from the
heart, and overwhelm him:
For sudden joys, like griefs, confound at first.

I walked about on the shore, lifting up my hands and my whole
heing, as I may say, wrapt up in the contemplation of my deliverance,
making a thousand gestures and motions which I cannot describe:
reflecting upon all my comrades that were drowned, and that there
should not be one soul saved but myself; for, as for them, I never saw
them afterwards, or any sign of them, except three of ee hats, one
cap, and two shoes, that were not fellows.

I cast my eyes to the stranded vessel, when, the breach and froth of
the sea being so big, I could hardly see it, it lay so far off, and con-
sidered, 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 round me, to see what kind of 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 any thing either to eat or drink to comfort
me; neither did I see any prospect before me, but that 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 this threw me into
terrible agonies of mind, that, for a while, I ran about like a madman.
Night coming upon me, I began, with a heavy heart, to consider what
would be my lot if there were any ravenous 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. I 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 in my mouth to prevent hunger, I went to the tree, and
getting up into it, endeavoured to place myself so, as that if I should
sleep 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 occasion.


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 73



CHAPTER IV.

Appearance of the Wreck and Country next day—Swim on board of the Ship, and, by
means of a contrivance, get a quantity of Stores on Shore—Shoot a Bird, but it
turns out perfect Carrion—Moralize upon my Situation—The Ship blown off Land,
and totally lost—Set out in search of a proper Place for a Habitation—See numbers
of Goats—Melancholy Reflections.

Wuew I waked it was broad day, the weather clear, and the storm
abated, so that the sea did not rage and swell as before: but that
which surprised me most, was, that the ship was lifted off in the night
from the sand where she lay, by the swelling of the tide, and was
driven up almost as far as the rock which I first mentioned, where I
had been so bruised by the dashing me against it; this being within
about a mile from the shore where I was, and the ship seeming to
stand upright still, I wished myself on board, that, at least, I might
save some necessary things for my use.

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 the sea had tossed her up upon the Jand, about two miles on
my right hand. J 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 ebbed
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 miserable 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 that,
I resolved, if possible, to get to the ship; so I pulled off 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 a rope, which I
wondere’ I did not see at firat, hang down by the fore-chains, so low

oth da alain Tk. iret eae





4 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



as that with great difficulty I got hold of it, and, by the help of that
rope, got up into the forecastle of the ship. Here I found that the
ship was bulged, and had a great deal of water in her hold, but that
she lay so on the side of a bank of hard sand, or rather earth, and 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 first I found that all
the ship’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 about other things, for I had
no time to lose. I also found some rum in the great cabin, of which I
took a large dram, and which I had indeed need enough of to spirit me
for what was before me. Now I wanted nothing but a boat to furnish
mysclf 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; I resolved to fall to work with these, and flung as many of
them overboard as I could manage of their weight, tying every one
with a rope, that 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 laying two or thfee short pieces of plank upon them cross-
ways, I found I could walk upon it very well, but that it was not able
to bear any great weight, the pieces being teo light; so I went to work,
and, with the carpepter’s saw, I cut a spare topmast into three lengths, °
and added them to my raft, with a great deal of labour and pains ; but
hope of furnishing myself with necessaries encouraged me to go
beyond what I should have been able to have: done upon another
occasion. :

My raft was now strong enough to bear any reasonable weight: my
next care was what to load it with, and how to preserve what I laid
upon it from the surf of the sea; but 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 first got three of the
seamen’s chests, which I had broken open and emptied, and lowered
them down upon my raft. The first of these I filled with provisions,
namely, bread, rice, three Dutch cheeses, five pieces of dried goat’s
flesh, which we lived much upon, and a little remainder of Europeau
corn, which had been laid by for some fowls which we brought to sea
|
Ls Nam
a

it i

lh





ASS 1

CRUSOE LOADING HIS RAFT. 5
\
76 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



with us, but the fowls were killed. There had been some barley and
wheat together, but, to my great disappointment, I found afterwards
that the rats had eaten or spoiled it all. As for liquors, I found
several cases of bottles belonging to our skipper, in which were some
cordial waters, and in all above five or six gallons of rack: these I
stowed by themselves, there being no need to put them into the chest,
nor no room for them. While I was doing this, I found the tide
‘egan to flow, though very calm, and I had the mortification to see my
coat, shirt, and waistcoat, which I had left on shore upon the sand,
swim away; as for my breeches, which were only linen, and open-
kneed, I swam'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, firsty tools to work with on shore ; and it was
after long searching that I found out the carpenter’s chest, which was
indeed a very useful prize to me, and much more valuable than a ship-
loading 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 two
very good fowling-pieces in the great cabin, and two pistols: these I
secured first, with some powder-horns, and a small bag of shot, and
two old rusty swords. I knew there were three barrels of powder in
the ship, but knew not where our gunner had stowed them; but with
much search I found them, two of them dry and good, the third had
taken water; those two I got to my raft, with the arms. And now I
thought myself pretty well freighted, and began to think how I should
get to shore with them, having neither sail, oar, nor rudder, and the
least capful of wind would have overset all my navigation.

I had three encouragements: 1. A smooth, calm sea; 2. The tide
rising and setting in to the shore; 38. Whai 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 te
sea. For a mile, or thereabouts, my raft went very well, only that I
found it drive a little distant from the place where I had landed be-
fore; by which I perceived that there was some indraft 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
uf 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 keep in the middle of the stream;
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. TT

but here I had like to have suffered a second shipwreck, which, if I
had, I think verily would have broke my heart; for, knowing nothing
of the coast, my raft run 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 towards 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 the raft
with all my strength; neither durst I stir from the posture I was in,
but, holding up the chests with all my might, stood in that manner
near half an hour, in which time the rising of the water brought me a
little more upon a level; and, a little after, the water still rising, 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 resolved to
place myself as near the coast as I could.

At length I spied a little cove on the right shore of the creek, to
which, with great pain and difficulty, I guided my raft, and at last got
so near, as that, reaching ground with my oar, I could thrust her di- °
rectly in; but here I had like to have dipped all my cargo in 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 the float, if it run on shore,
would lie so 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 anchor, 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 on upon that flat piece of ground, and there fastened, or moored
her, by sticking my two broken oars into the ground; one on one side,
near one end, and one on the other side, near the other end; and thus
T lay till the water ebbed away, and left my raft and all my ree safe
on 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 what-
ever might happen. Where I was, I yet knew not; whether on ‘the:

continent or on an island—whether inhabited or not inhabjted—whe- ee





ther in danger of wild beasts or not. There was a hill, nok’
mile from me, which rose up very steep and high, and whieh
to overtop some other hills which lay as in a ridge from it noi




78 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



I took out 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 had with great labour and difficulty got to the
top, I saw my fate to my great affliction; namely, that I was in an
island, environed every way with the sea,—no land to be seen, except
some rocks which lay a great way off, and two small islands less than
this, which lay about 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 which, how-
ever, I saw none; yet I saw abundance of fowls, but knew not their
kinds; 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 was
the first gun that had been fired there since the creation of the world.
T had no sooner fired, but, from all parts of the wood, there arose an
innumerable number of fowls of many sorts, making a confused scream-
ing, and crying every one according to his usual note; but not one of
them of any kind that I knew. As for the creature I killed, I took
it to be a kind of a hawk, its colour and beak resembling it, but had
no talons, or claws, more than common; its flesh 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 up the rest of that
day; and what to do with myself at night I 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 afterwards found,
there was really no need for those fears.

However, as well as I could, I barricadoed myself round with the
chests and boards that I had brought on shore, and made a kind of a
hut for 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 where 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 some 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 possible ;
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 every
thing 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 raft; but
this appeared impracticable; so I resolved to go as before, when the
tide was down, and I did so, only that I stripped before I went from
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. “ 19.





my hut, having nothing on but a checked shirt and a pair of linen
trowsers, and a pair of pumps on my feet.

I got on board the ship as before, and prepared a second raft; and
having had experience of the first, I neither made this so unwieldy,
nor loaded it so hard, but yet I brought away several things very use-
ful to me; as first, in the carpenter’s stores, I found two or three bags
full of nails and spikes, a great screw-jack, a dozen or two of hatchets,
and, above all, that most useful thing called a grindstone: all these I
secured, together with several things belonging to the gunner, particu-
larly two or three iron crows, and two barrels of musket-bullets, seven
muskets, and another fowling-piece, with some small quantity of powder
more; a large bag full of small shot, and a great roll of sheet lead;
but this last was so heavy, I could not hoist it up to get it over the
ship’s side.

Besides these things, I took all the men’s clothes that I could find,
and a spare fore-top-sail, hammock, and some bedding; and with this
I loaded my second raft, and brought them all safe on shore, to my
very great comfort. .

I was under some apprehensions, during my absence from the land,
that at least my provisions might be devoured on shore; but, when I
came back, I found no sign of any visiter, only there sat a creature,
like a wild cat, upon one of the chests, which, when I came towards
it, ran away a little distance, and then stood still: she sat very com-
posed and unconcerned, and looked full in my face, as if she had a
mind to be acquainted with me. I presented my gun at her, but as
she did not understand it, she was perfectly unconcerned at it, nor did
she offer to stir away ; upon which I tossed her a bit of biscuit, though,
by the way, I was not very free of it, for my store was not great:
however, I spared her a bit, I say, and she went to it, smelled of it,
and ate it, and looked, as pleased, for more; but I thanked her, and
could spare no more; so she marched off.

Having got my second cargo 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 every thing 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 pistols just at


80 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

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; as the
night before I had slept little, and had laboured very hard all day, as
well to fetch all those things from the ship, as to get them on shore.

T had the biggest magazine of all kinds now 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
out 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 I could, as also all
the small ropes and rope-twine I could get, with a piece of spare can-
vas, which was to mend the sails upon occasion, and the barrel of wet
gunpowder: in a word, I brought away all the sails first and last, only
that I was fain to cut them in pieces, and bring as much at a time as I
could; for they were no more useful to be sails, but as mere canvas
only.

But that which comforted me still more was, that last of all, after I
had made five or six such voyages as these, and thought I had nothing
more to expect from the ship that was worth my meddling with,—I
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 soor
emptied the hogshead of that bread, and wrapped it up parcel by par-
cel, in pieces of the sails, which I 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, I began with the
cables; and cutting the great cable into pieces such as I could move,
I got two cables and a hawser on shore, with all the iron-work I could
get; and, having cut down the spritsail-yard, and the mizen yard, and
every thing I could to make a 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 unwieldly and overladen, that, after I had
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 myself, it was no
great harm, for I was near the shore ; but as to my cargo, it was,
great part of it, lost, especially the iron, which I expected would have
heen of great use to me: however, when the tide was out, I got most
of the pieces of cable ashore, and some of the iron, though with infi-
nite labour; for I was fain to dip for it into the water, a work which
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. _ Ro ee

ee
fatigued me very much. After this, I went every day on board, and
Brana away what I could get. “
1 had been now thirteen days on shore, and had been alérai ‘times
on board the ship; in which time I had brought away all that one
pair of hands could well be supposed capable to bring, though I believe
verily, had the calm held, I should have brought away the whole ship,
piece by piece: but, preparing the twelfth time to go on board, I
found the wind began to rise; however, at low water, I went on board,
and though I thought I had rummaged the cabin so effectually, as that
nothing more could be found, yet I discovered a locker with drawers
in it, in one of which I found two or three razors, and one pair of
large scissors, with some ten or a dozen of good knives and forks; in
another I found about thirty-six pounds value in money, some Euro-
pean coin, some Brazil, some pieces of eight, some gold, some silver.
I smiled to myself at the sight of this money. ‘‘O drug!” said-I,
aloud, “‘what art thou good for? thou art not worth tc me—no, not
the taking off of the ground ; one of those knives is worth all this heap ;
I have no manner of use for thee; even remain where thou art, and
go to the bottom, as a creature whose life is not worth saving.”

However, upon second thoughts, I took it away, and. wrapping all this:

in a piece of canvas, I began to think of making another raft; but,

while I was 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 of flood began, 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 with difficulty enough, partly with the.weight.

of things I had about me, and partly the roughness of. the water, for
the wind rose very hastily, and, before it was quite high water, it blew a:
storm.

But I was gotten 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 tobe

seen! I was a little surprised, but recovered myself. with: this satisfac. 3

tory reflection, namely, that I had lost no time, nor abated no diliz’ ”
gence, to get every thing out of her that could be useful to: cme, and
that, indeed there was little left in her that-I.was able to one away,’
if I had had more time.

T now gave over.any more thoughts. of the ship, or of any; edthig out

of her, except what might drive on shore from her wreck, aa, indesd,
6 s : . ay




82 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

divers pieces ef her afterwards did; but those things were of small
use to me. ;

My thoughts were now wholly employed about securmg myself
against either savages, if any should appear, or wild beasts, if any
were in the island; and I had many thoughts of the method how to
do this, and what kind of dwelling to make,—whether I should make
me a cave in the earth, or a tent upon the earth: and, in short, T
resolved upon both, the manner and description of which it may not
be improper to give an account of.

I soon found the place I was in was not for my settlement, particu-
larly because it was upon a low moorish ground near the sea, and I
believed would not be wholesome, and more particularly because there
was no fresh water near it; so I resolved to find a more healthy and
more convenient spot of ground.

I consulted several things in my situation which I found would be
proper for me: Ist, Health and fresh water I just now mentioned.
2dly, Shelter from the heat of the sun. 3dly, Security from ravenous
creatures, whether man or beast. 4thly, A view of the sea, that, if
God sent any ship jn sight, I might not lose any advantage 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
side of a rising hill, whose front towards this little plain was steep as
a house-side, 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 long, and lay like a green before my door, and at the
end of it descended irregularly every way down into the low grounds
by the sea-side. It was on the north-north-west side of the hill, so
that I was sheltered from the heat every day, till it came to a west-
and-by-south sun, or thereabouts, which in those countries is near the
setting.

Before I set up my tent, I drew a half-circle before the hollow
place, which took in about ten yards in its semi-diameter, from the
rock, and twenty yards in its diameter from its beginning and ending,

In this half-circle, 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 foot and a half, and sharpened
on the top: the twe rows did not stand above six inches from one
another.
OF ROBINSON ORUSOE. 83°



Then I took the pieces of cable which Thad 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,
leaning against them, about two foot 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 labour,
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
over after me: and so I was completely fenced in, and fortified, as I
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 from the enemies that
I apprehended danger from.

Into this fence, or fortress, with infinite labour, I carried all my
riches, all my provisions, ammunition, and stores, of which you have
the account above; and I made me a large tent, which, to preserve me
from the rains, that, in one part of the year, are very violent there, I
made double, namely, one smaller tent within, and one larger tent
above it, and covered the uppermost with a large tarpaulin, which I
had 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 hammock, which was, indeed, a very good one, and
belonged to the mate of the ship.

Into this tent I brought all my provisions, and every thing that
would spoil by the wet; and having thus enclosed all my goods, I made
up the entrance, which, till now, I had left open, and so passed and
repassed, 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, that

so 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 F

house.

It cost me much labour and many days before all these things were

brought to perfection; and, therefore, I must go back to sie
things which took up some of my thoughts. At the same time; it
parted after I had laid my scheme for the setting up my te



making the cave, that a storm of rain falling from a thick dark‘eloud, ©

a sudden flash of lightning happened, and after that age
thunder, as is naturally the effect-of it. I was not so much

é










-
ba




84 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



with the lightning, as I was with a thought which darted into my mind,
as swift as the lightning itself: Oh, my powder! my very heart sank
within me, when I thought that, at one blast, all my powder might be
destioyed, on which, not my defence only, but the providing me food,
as I thought, entirely depended: I was nothing near so anxious about
my own danger; though, had the powder took fire, I had never known
who 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 applied
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 in not less than a
hundred parcels. As to the barrel that had been wet, I did not appre-
hend 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 down in
holes among the rocks, so that no wet might come to it, marking very
carefully where I laid it.

In the interval of time while this was doing, I went out once at least
every day with my gun, as well to divert myself, as to see if I could
kill any thing fit for food, and, as near as I could, to acquaint myself
with what the island produced. The first time I went out, I presently
discovered that there were goats in the island, which was a great satis-
faction to me; but then, it was attended with this misfortune to me,
namely, that they were so shy, so subtle, and so swift of foot, that it
was the most difficult thing in the. world to come at them. But I was
not discouraged at this, not doubting but I might now and then shoot
one, as it soon happened; for, after I had found their haunts a little,
I laid wait in this manner for them: I observed, if they saw me in the
valleys, though they were upon the rocks, they would run away as in
a terrible fright; but if they were feeding in the valleys, and I was
upon the rocks, they took no notice of me; from whence I concluded,
that, by the position of their optics, their sight was so directed down-
ward, that they did not readily see objects that were above them; s0
afterwards I took this method: I always climbed the rocks first, to get
above them, and then had frequently a fair mark. The first shot I
made among these creatures I killed a she-goat, which had a little kid
by her which she gave suck to, which grieved me heartily; but when
the old one fell, the kid stood stock still by her till I came and took
her up; and not only so, but, when I carried the old one with me upon
OF «ROBINSON CRUSOE. “®d



my shoulders, the kid follcwed me quite to my enclosure ; upon which
I laid down the dam, and took the kid in my arms, and carried it over
my pale, in hopes to have bred it up tame; but it would not eat, so 1
was forced to kill it, and eat it myself. These two supplied me witk
flesh 4 great while, for I ate sparingly, and saved my provisions (my
bread especially) as much as possibly I could.

Having now fixed my habitation, I found it absolutely necessary tc
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 place; but I must first give
some little account of myself, and of my thoughts about living, which,
it may well be supposed, were not a few.

I had a dismal prospect of my condition; for, as I was not cast
away upon that island without being driven, as is said, by a violent
storm, quite out of the course of our intended voyage, and a great.
way, namely, some hundred of leagues out of the ordinary course of
the trade of mankind, I had great reason to consider it as a determin-
ation of Heaven, that, in this desolate place, and in this desolate man-
ner, I should end my life. The tears would run plentifully down my
face when I made these reflections ; and sometimes I would expostulate
with myself, why Providence should thus completely ruin his creatures,
and render them so absolutely miserable, so without help abandoned,
so entirely depressed, that it could hardly be rational to be thankful
for such a life.

But something always returned swift upon me to check these thoughts,
and to reprove me; and, particularly, one day walking, with my gun
in my hand, by the sea-side, I was very pensive upon the subject of
my present condition, when reason, as it were, expostulated with me
the other way, thus :—‘“ Well, you are in a desolate condition, it is
true; but, pray, remember, where are the rest of you? Did not you
come eleven of you into the boat? Where are the ten? Why were
they not saved, and you lost? Why were you singled out? Isit'bettér
to be here or there ?’”” And then I pointed to the:sea. All evils-are ~~
to be considered with the good that is in them, and with what worse
attended them. “OR

Then it occurred to me again, how well I was furnished for my sub-
sistence, and what would have been my case if it had not happened,
which was an hundred thousand to one, that the ship floated from the

.place where she first struck, and was driven so near the shore, that I had
time to get all these things out of her. What would have been
if I had been to have lived in the condition in which T at first
‘shore, without necessaries of life, or necessaries to supply and pi








86 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES





them? “Particularly,” said I, loud, though to myself, ‘‘ what should
[ have done without a gun, without ammunition, without any tools to
make any thing, or to work with; without clothes, bedding, a tent, or
any manner of covering?” and that now I had all these to a sufficient
qua atity, and was in a fair way to provide myself in such’a manner,
as to live without my gun when my ammunition 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, how I should provide for the
accidents that might happen, and for the time that was to come, even
not only after my ammunition should be spent, but even after my
health or strength should decay.

I confess I had not entertained any notion of my ammunition being
. destroyed at one blast, I mean, my powder being blown up by light-
ning; and this made the thoughts of it so surprising to me when it
lightened and thundered, as I observed just now.

And now, being about to enter into a melancholy relation of a scene
of silent life, such, perhaps, as was never heard of in the world before,
I shall take it from its beginning, and continue it in its order. It was,
by my account, the 30th of September, when, in the manner as above
‘said, I first set foot upon this horrid 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 the latitude of nine degrees twenty-
two minutes north of the line.

After I had been there about ten or twelve days, it came into my.
thoughts, that I should lose my reckoning of time for want of books,
and pen and ink, and should even forget the Sabbath days from the
working days; but, to prevent this, I cut it with my knife upon a large
post, in capital letters, and making it into a great cross, I set it up on
-the shore where I first landed, namely, I came on shore here on the
30th of September, 1659. Upon the sides of this square post, I cut
every 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 kept my calendar, or weekly, monthly, and
yearly reckoning of time.

In the next place, we are to observe, that, among the many things
which 1 brought out 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 omitted setting down before ; as, in par-
ticular, pens, ink, and paper, several parcels in the captain’s, mate’s,
gunner’s, and carpenter's keeping, three or four compasses, some
mathematical instruments, dials, perspectives, charts, and books of
pavigation, all which I huddled together, whether I might want them
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ; 87

or no. Also, I found three very good Bibles, which came to me in
my cargo from England, and which [ had packed up among my things ;
some Portuguese books also, and among them two or three Pupish
prayer books, and several other books: ‘all which I carefully 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 me; and as for the dog, he
jumped out of the ship of himself, and swam on shore to me the day
after I went on shore with my first cargo, and was a trusty servant to
me many years: I wanted nothing that he could fetch me, nor any
company that he could make up to me; I only wanted to have him
talk to me, but that he could not do. AsI observed before, I found
pen, ink, and paper, and I husbanded 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 puts me in mind that I wanted many things, notwithstand-
ing all that I had amassed together; and of these, this of ink was
one, as also spade, pick-axe, and shovel, to dig or remove the earth;
needles, pins, and thread. As for linen, I soon learned to want that
without much difficulty.

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, dr
surrounded habitation: the piles, or stakes, which were as heavy as I
could well lift, were a long time in cutting and preparing in the
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
day 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, yet it made driving those
posts, or piles, very laborious and tedious work. +

But what need I have been concerned at the, tediousness of any
thing I had to do, seeing I had time enough to doitin? Nor had I
any other employment, if that had been over, att: ‘least that I could
foresee, except the ranging the island to seek for “food, which I did
more or less every day. ea

I now began to consider seriously my condition, and the circum-

stances I was reduced to, and I drew up the state of my affairs in

writing, not so much to leave them to any that were to come after me

(for I was like to have but few heirs), as to deliver my, thoughts’ frota :

daily poring upon them, and afflicting my mind; and as my reason
began now to master my despondency; F began to comfort myself ax



Xa




88 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

well as I could, and to set the good against the evil, that I might have
‘something to distinguish my case from worse; and I stated it very

impartially, like debtor and creditor, the comforts I enjoyed against

the miseries I suffered, thus :-—

EVIL.

I am cast upon a horrible deso-
late island, void of all hope of re-
covery.

I am singled out and separated,
as it were, from all the world, to
be miserable.

I am divided from mankind, a
solitaire, one banished from hu-
nan society.

I have no clothes to cover me.

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

Ihave no soul to speak to, or
relieve me.

GooD.
But I am alive, and not drown-
ed, as all my ship’s company was.

But I am singled out, too, from
all the ship’s crew to be spared
from death; and He that mira-
culously saved me from death, can
deliver me from this condition.

But I am not starved and per-
ishing on a barren place, affording
no sustenance.

But I am in a hot climate,
where, if I had clothes, 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 Afri-
ca: and what if I had been ship-
wrecked there ?

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

Upon the whole, here was an undoubted testimony, that there was

scarce any condition in the world so miserable, but there was some-
thing negative or something po:sive to be thankful for in it; and let
this stand as a direction from the experience of the most miserable of
all conditions in this world, that we may always find in it something
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 my condition, and
given over looking out to sea, to see if I could spy a ship,—I say,
OF- ROBINSON ORGSOE: - 89



giving 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.

T have already described my habitation, which was a tent, under the
side of.a rock, surrounded with a strong pale of posts and cables; but
I might now rather call it a wall, for I raised a kind of wall up against
it of turfs, about two foot thick on the outside; and after some time—
I think it was a year and half—I raised rafters from it, leaning to the
rock, and thatched or covered it with boughs of trees, and such things
as I could get to keep out the rain, which I found at some times of
the year very violent.

_ Ihave already observed how I brought all my goods into this pale,
and into the cave which I had made behind me: but I must observe,
too, that at first this was a confused heap of goods, which, as they lay
in no order, so they took up all my place: I had no room to turn my-
self; so I set myself to enlarge my cave and works farther into the
earth; for it was a loose sandy rock, which yielded easily to the
labour I bestowed on it: and so when I found I was pretty safe as to
beasts of prey, I worked sideways to the right hand into the rock; and
then, turning to the right again, worked quite out, and made me a
door to come out, on the outside of my pale, or fortification.

This gave me not only egress and regress, as it were a back way to
my tent and to my storehouse, but gave me room to stow my goods.

And now I began to apply myself to make such necessary things as
I found I most wanted, particularly a chair and a table; for without
these I was not able to enjoy the few comforts I had in the world,—I
could not write or eat, or 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
squaring every thing 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 in time,
by labour, application, and contrivance, I found at last that.I wanted
nothing but I could have made it, especially if I had had tools; how-
ever, I made abundance of things even without tools, and some with no
more tools than an adze and a hatchet, which perhaps were never
made that way before, and that with infinite labour: for example, if 1
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
ny adze. It is true, by this method, I could make but one board: out
of a whole tree; but this I had no eae for but pinay any :




90 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



than I had for the prodigious deal of time and labour which it took
me up to made a plank or board; but my time and labour were little
worth, and so they were 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
brought on my raft from the ship; but when I had wrought out some
boards, as 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, and, in a word, to separate every thing at
large in their places, that I might come easily 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 to be seen, it looked like a general
magazine of all necessary things; and I had every thing 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 of 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 a hurry; and not only
hurry as to labour, but in too much discomposure of mind, and my
journal would have been full of many dull things. For example, I
must have said thus: September the 30th, after I got to shore, and
had escaped drowning, instead of being thankful to God for my
deliverance, having first vomited with the 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, exclaiming at my misery, and crying out, I was undone, undone!
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, yet I could not forbear getting up to
the top of a little mountain, and looking out to sea, in hopes of seeing
a ship; then fancy at a vast distance I spied a sail; please myself
with the hopes of it; and then, after looking steadily till I was almost
blind, lose it quite, and sit down and weep like a child, and thus
increase my misery by my folly.

But having gotten over these things in some measure, and having
settled my household stuff and habitation, made me a table and a
chair, and all as handsome 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
tol! all these particulars over again) as long as it lasted; for, having
no more ink, I was forced to leave it off.
ee ae



CF ROBINSON CRUSOE — : 91

CHAPTER V.

1 begin to keep a Journal—Christen my desert Island the Island of’Despair—Fall upon
various Schemes to make Tools, Baskets, &c., and begin to build my House—At a
great Loss of an Evening for Candle, but fall upon an expedient to supply the want
—Strange discovery of Corn—a terrible Earthquake and Storm.

THE JOURNAL. :
September 30, 1659.

I, poor miserable Robinson Crusoe, being shipwrecked, during a
dreadful storm in the offing, came on shore on this dismal unfortanate
island, which I called the Island of Despair; all the rest of the ship's
company being drowned, and myself almost dead.

All the rest of that day I spent in afflicting myself at the dismal
circumstances I was broughi to, namely, I had neither food, house,
clothes, weapon, or place to fly to, and in despair of any relief, saw -
nothing but death before me, either that I should be devoured by wild
beasts, murdered by savages, or starved to death for want of food. At
the approach of night I slept in a tree, for fear of wild creatures, but
slept soundly, though it rained all night. —

October 1.—In the morning I saw, to my great surprise, the ship
had floated with the high tide, and was driven on shore again, much
nearer the island; which, as it was some comfort on one hand, for
seeing her sit upright, and not broken to pieces, I hoped, if the wind
abated, I might get on board, and get some food and necessaries out
of her for my relief;.so, on the other hand, it renewed my grief, at
the loss of my comrades, who, I imagined, if we had all stayed on board,
might have saved the ship, or at least that they would not have been
all drowned as they were ; and that had the men been saved, we might
perhaps have ‘built us a boat out of the ruins of the ship, to have car-
ried us to some other part of the world, spent great part of this day
in perplexing myself on these things; but at length, seeing the ship -
almost dry, I went upon the sand as near ag I could, and then Swain:
on board. This day also it continued raining; theegh 2 no wind at
all.

From the 1st of October to the 24th.—All hee, days cintifely spent
m many several voyages to get all I could out of the ship,. whieh. i
brough* on shore, sere tide of: flood, upon rafis.. ‘Much rain “als”





92 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



these days, though with some intervals of fair weather; but it seems
this was the rainy 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 chiefly heavy, I reco-
vered many of them when the tide was out.

Oct. 25.—It rained all night and all day, with some gusts of wind;
during which time the ship 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
securing the goods which I had saved, that rain might not spoil
them.

Oct. 26.—I walked about the shore almost all day, to find out a
place to fix my habitation, greatly concerned to secure myself from any
attack in the night, either from wild beasts or men. Towards night I
fixed upon a proper place under a rock, and marked out a semicircle
for my encampment, which I resolved to strengthen with a work, wall,
or fortification, made of double piles, lined within with cable, and with-
out with turf.

From the 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
exceeding hard.

The 31st, in the morning, I went out into the island with my gun,
to seek for some food, and discover the country ; when I killed a she-
goat, and her kid followed me home, which I afterwards 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 large as I could, with stakes driven in to swing
my hammock upon.

Nov. 2—I set up all my chests and boards, and the pieces of timber,
which made my rafts, and with them formed a fence round me, a little
within the place I had marked out for my fortification.

Nov. 3.—I went out with my gun, and killed two fowls like ducks,
which were very good food. In the afternoon went to work to make
me a table. !

Nov. 4.—This morning I began to order my times of work; of going
out with my gun, time of sleep, and time of diversion: namely, every
morning I walked out with my gun for two or three hours, if it did
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 of the next. were wholly
employed in making my table; for I was yet but a very sorry work-
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ~ 93:



man, though time and necessity made me a complete natural mechanic
soon after, as L believe it wquld do any one else.

Nov. 5.—This day went abroad with my gun and my dog, and killed
a wild-cat; her skin pretty soft, but her flesh good for nothing: every
creature I killed I took off the skins and preserved them. Coming
back by the sea-shore, I saw many sorts of sea-fowls, which I did not
understand; but was surprised, and almost frighted with two or three
seals, which, while I was gazing at, not well knowing what they were,
got into the sea, and escaped me for that time.

Nov. 6.—After my morning walk, I went to work mth 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), I took
wholly up to make me a chair, and, with much ado, brought it to a
tolerable shape, but never to please me; and even in the making, I
pulled it in pieces several times. Note—lI soon neglected my keeping
Sundays; for omitting my mark for them on my post, I forgot which
was which.

Nov. 18.—This day it rained, which refreshed me exceedingly, and
cooled the earth; but it was accompanied with terrible thunder and
lightning, which frighted 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 remote from one another as possible. On one of these
three days I 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, to
make room for my farther conveniency. Note—Three things I wanted
exceedingly for this work, namely, a pick-axe, a shovel, and a wheel-
barrow or basket; so I desisted from my work, and began to consider
how to supply that want, and make me some tools: as for a pick-axe,
I made use of the iron-crows, which were proper enough, though heavy ;
but the next thing was a shovel or spade; this was so absolutely neces-
sary, that indeed I could do nothing effectually without it; but what
kind of one to make I knew not.



Fov. 18.—The next day, in searching the woods, 1 faa a tree of |

that wood, or like it, which in the Brazils they call the iron-tree, for _
its exceeding hardness: of this, with great labour, and almost spailing:.


94 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



my axe, I cut a piece, and brought it home too with difficulty enough,
for it was exceeding heavy.

The excessive hardness of the wood, and “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 a-making.

I was still deficient, for I wanted a basket or a wheel-barrow; a
basket I could not make by any means, having no such things as twigs,
that would bend to make wicker-ware, at least not yet found out; and
as to a wheel-barrow, I fancied I could make all but the wheel, but that
I had no notion of, neither did I know how to go about it; besides, I
had no possible way to make the iron gudgeons for the spindle, or axis,
of the wheel, to run in, so I gave it over; and so, for carrying away
the earth which I dug out of the cave,.I made me a thing like a hod,
which the labourers carry mortar in, when they serve the bricklayers.

This was not so difficult to 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 less than four days, I mean always except-
ing my morning walk with my gun, which I seldom failed; and very
seldom failed also bringing home something 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
entirely in widening and deepening my cave, that it might hold 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 my lodging, I kept to the
tent, except that sometimes in the wet season of the year, it rained
so hard, that I could not keep myself dry, which caused me afterwards
to cover all my place within my pale with long poles in the form of
rafters, leaning against the rock, and load them with flags and large
leaves of trees like a thatch.

December 10.—I began now to think my cave, or vault, finished,
when on a sudden (it seems I had made it too large) a great quantity
of earth fell down from the top and one side, so much, that, in short,
it frighted me, and not without reason too; for if I had been under it,
I had never wanted a grave-digger. Upon this disaster I had a great .
deal of work to d- oyer again; for I had the loose earth to carry out,
\WEF ROBINSON ‘CRUSOE. - 95

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 work with it accordingly, and got two
shores, or posts, pitched upright to the top, with two pieces of boards
across over each post; this I finished the next day; and setting more
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 my
house. ,

Dec. 17.—From this day to the twentieth I placed shelves, and
knocked up nails on the posts to hang every thing up that could be
hung up: and now I began to be in some order within doors.

Dee. 20.—Now I carried every thing into the cave, and began to
furnish my house, and set up some pieces of boards like a dresser, to
order my victuals upon; but boards began to be very scarce with me:
also, I made me another table.

Dee. 24.—Much rain all night and all day; no stirring out.

Dee. 25.—Rain all day.

Dec. 26.—No rain, and the earth much cooler than before, and
pleasanter.

Dec. 27.—Killed a young goat, and lamed another, so that I caught
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 and as strong as ever; but by
nursing it so long it grew tame, and fed upon the little green at my
door, and would not go away. This was the first time that I entey-
tained a thought of breeding up some tame creatures, that I might have
food when my powder and shot were all spent.

Dee. 28, 29, 830.—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.

January 1—Very hot still; but I went abroad early and late with
my gun, and lay still in the middle of the day. This evening, going
farther into the valleys which lay towards. 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.

Jan. 2.—Accordingly, the next day I went out with my dog, and set
him upon the goats; but I was mistaken, for they all faced about upon
the dog; and he knew his danger too well, for he would not come near
them. 4

Jan. 3.—I began my fence, or wall, which, being still jealous of my
_ being attacked by somebc-dy,.I resolved to make very thick and strong.




96 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES









CRUSOE WRITING HIS JOURNAL.

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, finishing,
and perfecting this wall, though it was no more than about twenty-
four yards in length, being a half circle from one place in the rock to
another place about eight 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 until this wall was finished; and it is scarcely credible
what inexpressible labour every thing was done with, especially the
bringing piles out of the woods, and driving them into the ground;
for I made them much bigger than I need 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 any thing like a
habitation ; and it was very well I did so, as may be observed hereafter,
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

ee


SS ee. ae er



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 97











these walks, of something ov other to my advantage ; particularly, |
found a kind of wild pigeons, who built, not as wood pigeons, in a tree,
but rather as house pigeons, in the holes of the rocks ; and taking some
young ones, I endeavored to breed them up tame, and did so; but |
when they grew older they flew away, which, perhaps, was at first for
want of feeding them; for I had nothing to give them. However, I
frequently found their nests, and got their young ones, which were
very good meat.

And now, in the managing my household affairs, I found myself
wanting in many things, which I thought at first it was impossible tor
me to make, as indeed, as to 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 I could never arrive to the capacity of making
one by them, though I spent many weeks about it ; I could neither put
in the heads, or joint 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 for candle, so that as
soon as ever it was dark, which was generally by seven o’clock, I was
obliged to go to bed. I remembered the lump of beeswax with which
T made candles in my African adventure, but I had none of that now.

The only remedy I had was, that when I had killed a goat I saved
=: “ O77
38 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

the tallow, and, with a little dish made of clay, which I baked in the
sun, to which I added a wick of some oakum, I made me a lamp; and
this gave me a light, though not a clear steady light like a candle. In
the middle of all my labours, it happened that, rummaging my things,
T found a little bag, which, as I hinted before, had been filled with
corn for the feeding of poultry, not for this voyage, but before, as I
suppose, when the ship came from Lisbon. What little remainder of
corn had been in the bag was all devoured with the rats, and I saw
nothing in the bag but husks and dust; and being willing to have the
bag for some other use—I think it was to put powder in—when I
divided it for fear of the lightning, or some such use, I shook the husks
of corn out of it, on one side of my fortification, under the rock.

It was a little before the great rains, just now mentioned, that I
threw this stuff away, taking no notice of any thing, and not so much
as remembering that I had thrown any thing there; when about a
month after, or thereabout, I saw some few stalks of something green
shooting out of the ground, which I fancied might be some plant I had
not seen; but I was surprised and 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 our
English barley.

It is impossible to express the astonishment and confusion of my
thoughts on this occasion. I had hitherto acted upon no religious
foundation at all. Indeed, I had very few notions of religion in my
head, or had entertained any sense of any thing that had befallen me,
otherwise than as a chance, or, as we lightly say, what pleases God;
without so much as inquiring into the end of Providence in these
things, or his order in governing events in the world. But after I saw
barley grow there, in a climate which I knew was not proper for corn,
and especially, that 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 any help of seed sown; and that it was so
directed, purely for my sustenance on that wild miserable place.

This touched my heart a little, and brought tears out of my eyes,
and I began to bless mysclf that such a prodigy of nature should hap-
pen upon my account; and this was the more strange to me, because 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
support, but, not doubting but that there was more in the place, I went
all over that part of the island where I had been before, peeping in
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 99



every corner, and under every rock, to see for more of it; but I could
not find any. At last, it occurred to my thought that I had shook a
bag of chicken’s meat out in that place, and then the wonder began to
cease; and I must confess, my religious thankfulness to God’s provi-
dence began to abate too, upon discovering that 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 ten or twelve grains of corn to remain 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 had been burnt up and
destroyed.

I carefully saved the ears of corn, you may be sure, in their season,
which was about the end of June, and, laying up every corn, I resolved
to sow them all again, hoping in time to have some quantity sufficient
to supply me with bread; but it was not till the fourth year that I could
allow myself the least grain of this corn to eat, and even then but
sparingly, as I shall say afterwards in its order; for I lost all that I
sowed the first season, by not observing the proper time; for I sowed
it just before the dry season, so that it never came up at all, at least
not as it would have done: of which in its place.

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 kind, or to the same purpose, namely, to make me bread, or
rather food; for I found ways to cook it up without baking, though I.
did that also after some time. But to return to my journal.

I worked excessive hard these three or four months to get my wall
done; and the 14th of April I closed it up, contriving to go into it,
not by a door, but over the wall by a ladder, that there might be no
sign in 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 up after me, and let it down on the inside.
This was-a complete enclosure to me; 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 had all
ny labour overthrown at once, and myself killed. The case.was,thus:
is I was busy in the inside of it, behind my tent, just in the entrance
nto my cave, I was terribly frighted with a most dreadful surprising
thing indeed; for on a sudden I found the earth come crumbling down





100 ; THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



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 was really
the cause, only thinking that the top of my cave was falling in, as
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
night roll down upon me. I was no sooner stept down upon the firm
ground, but I plainly saw it was a terrible earthquake, for the ground
I stood on shook three times at about eight minutes distance, with 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 never heard in all my life: I
perceived also the very sea was put into violent motion by it; and I
believe the shocks were stronger under the water than on the island.

T was so amazed with the thing itself, having never felt the like, or
discoursed with any one that had, that I was like one dead or stupefied ;
an the motion of the earth made my stomach sick, like one that was
tussed at sea; but the noise of the falling of the rock awaked me, as
it were, and rousing me from my stupefied condition I was in, filled me
with horror, and I thought of nothing then but the hill falling upon
my tent and all my household goods, and burying all at once; and
thus sunk my very soul within me a second time.

After the third shock was over, and I felt no more for some time, I
began to take courage; and yet I had not heart enough to get 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
would rain; soon after that, the wind rose by little and little, so that
in less than half an hour it blew a most dreadful hurricane: the sea
was all on a sudden covered over with foam and froth, the shore was
covered with the breach of the water, the trees were torn up by the
roots, and a terrible storm it was; and this held about three hours, and
then began to abate, and in two hours more it was stark calm, and
began to rain very hard.

All this while I sat upon the ground, very much terrified and de-
jected, when on a sudden it came into my thoughts, that these winds
and rain being the consequence of -the earthquake, the earthquake

EL ae




OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. . 101

atself was spent and over, and I might venture into my cave again:
with this thought my spirits began 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 T
was forced to go into my-.cave, though very much afraid and uneasy,
for fear it should fall on my head.

This violent rain forced me to a new work, namely, to cut a hole
through my new fortification like a sink, to let water go out, which
would else have drowned my cave. After I had been in my cave.some
time, and found still no more shocks of the earthquake follow, I began
to be more composed; and now, to support my spirits, which indeed
wanted it very much, I went to my little store, and took a small cup
of rum, which, however, I did then, and always, very sparingly, know-
ing I could have no more when that was gone.

It continued raining all that night, and great part of the next bate
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 these 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 myself secure from wild beasts or men: but concluded, if I stayed
where I was, I should certainly, one time or other, be buried alive.

With these thoughts, I resolved to remove my tent from the place
where it stood, which was just under the hanging precipice of the hill,
and which, if it should be shaken again, would certainly fall upon my
tent. And I spent the two next days, being the 19th and 20th of
April, in contriving where and how to remove my habitation.

The fear of being swallowed up alive made me that I never slept in
quiet, and yet the apprehension of lying abroad without any fence,
was almost equal to it; but still, when TI looked about, and saw how
every thing was put in order, how pleasantly concealed I was, and how
safe from danger, it made me very loath to remove.

In the meantime, it occurred to me, that it would require a vast deal
of time for me to do this, and that I must be contented to run the
venture where I was, till I had formed a camp for myself, and had
secured it so as to remove to it. So, with this resolution, 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, ag. fore ; and
set my tent up in it when it was finished, but that I w fid-yenture to
stay where I was till it was ‘finished, and fit to remove “to. | Fhig was :
the 21st. :

April 22.—The next morning I began to consider of 1 inane








102 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



this resolve in execution, but I was at a great loss about my tools, I
had three large axes, and abundance of hatchets (for we carried the
hatchets for traffic with the Indians); but with much chopping and
cutting knotty hard wood, they were all full of notches and dull; and,
though I had a grindstone, I could not turn it, and grind my tools too;
this cost me as much thought as a statesman would have bestowed upon
a grand point of politics, or a judge upon the life and death of a man.
At length I contrived a wheel with a string, to turn it with my foot,
that I might have both my hands at liberty.— ote, I had never seen
any such thing in England, or at least not to take notice how it was
done, though since I have observed 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 perfection.

April 28, 29.—These two whole days I took up in grinding my tools,
my machine for turning my grindstone performing very well.

April 30.—Having perceived my bread had been low a great while,
now I took a survey of it, and reduced myself to one biscuit-cake a
day, which made my heart very heavy.

CHAPTER VI.

Observe the Ship driven farther aground by the late Storm—Procure a vast quantity
of Necessaries from the Wreck—Catch a large Turtle—I fall ill of a Fever and Ague
—Terrible Dream, and serious Reflections thereupon—Find a Bible in one of the Sea-
men’s Chests thrown ashore, the reading whereof gives me great comfort.

May 1.—In the morning, Ieoking towards the sea-side, the tide being
low, I saw something lie on tne shore bigger than 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 were driven on
shore by the late hurricane; and looking towards the wreck itself, I
thought it seemed to lie higher out of the water than it used to do. I
examined the barrel which 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 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 sand, was heaved up at least six
foot; and the stern (which was broke to pieces, and parted from the
test by the force of the sea, soon after I had left rummaging her), was
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 103



tossed, as it were, up, and cast on one side; and the sand was thrown
so high on that side next her stern, that 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 could now walk quite up to her
when the tide was out. I was surprised with this at first, but soon
concluded it must be done by the earthquake ; and, as by this violence
the ship was more broken open than formerly, so many things came
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 search-
ing whether I could make any way into the ship; but I found nothing
was to be expected of that kind, for that all the inside of the ship was
choked up with sand; however, as I had learned not to despair of any
thing, I resolved to pull every thing to pieces that I could of the ship,
concluding, that every thing 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,
which I thought held some of the upper part or quarter-deck together,
and when I had cut it through, I cleared away the sand as well as I

sould 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, but
T had no hooks, yet I frequently caught fish enough, as much as I cared
to eat ; all which I dried in the sun, and ate them dry.

May 5.—Worked on the wreck, cut another beam asunder, and
brought three great fir planks off from the decks, which I tied together,
and made swim .on shore when the tide of flood came on.

May 6.—Worked on the wreck, got several iron bolts out of her, and
other pieces of iron-work ; worked very hard, and came home very
much tired, and had thoughts of giving it over.

May 7.—Went to the wreck again, but with an intent not to work,
but foufid the weight of the wreck had brought itself down, the beams
being cut; that several pieces of the ship seemed to lie loose, and the
inside of the hold lay so open, that I could see into it, but almost full

of water and sand. ee ae



May 8.—Went to the wreck, and carried an iron crow to wrench Up. :

the deck, which lay now quite clear of water or sand ; I wrenelit



open two planks, and brought them on shore also with the tide: Tl fk

the iron crow in the wreck for next day.




104 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

May 9.—Went to the wreck, and with the crow made 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 the roll of English lead,
and could stir it, but it was too heavy to remove.

May 10, 11, 12, 18, 14.—Went every day to the wreck, and gota
great many pieces of timber, and boards, or plank, and two or three
hundred weight of iron. C

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 to get pigeons for food, that the tide prevented me going to the
wreck that day. ,

May 17.—I saw some pieces of the wreck blown on shore, at a great
distance, near 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.

May 24.—Every day to this day I worked on the wreck, and, with
hard labour, I loosened some things so much with the crow, that the
first flowing tide several casks floated out and two of the seamen’s
chests; but the wind blowing from the shore, nothing came to land
that day but pieces of timber, and a hogshead, which had some Brazil
pork in it, but the salt water and the sand had spoiled it.

I continued this work every day to the 15th of June, except the time
necessary to get food, which I always appointed, during this part of
my employment, to be when the tide was up, that I might be ready
when it was ebbed out; and by this time I had gotten timber, and plank,
and iron work enough to have built a good boat, if I had known how ;
and also I got at several times, and in several pieces, near one hundred
weight of the sheet lead.

June 16.—Going down to the sea-side, I found a large tortoise, or
turtle; this was the first that I had seen, which, it seems, was only my
misfortune, 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 afterwards; but perhaps had paid deer
enough for them.

June 17.—I spent in cooking the turtle: I found in her threescore
eggs; and her flesh was to me, at that time, the most savoury and
pleasant that ever I tasted in my life, having had no flesh, but of goats
and fowls, since I landed in this horrid place.

June 18.—Rained all day, and I stayed within. I thought at this
OF ROBINSON. CRUSOE. i 105

ee ——————————e
time the rain felt cold and I was something chilly, which I knew was
not usual 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 head, and feverish.

June 21.—Very ill, frighted almost to death with the apprehensions
of my sad condition, to be sick, and no help. Prayed to God, for the
first time since the storm off Hull; but scarce knew what I said, or
why, my thoughts being all confused.

June 22.—A little better, but under dreadful apprehensions of
sickness.

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 victuals to eat, took my gun, but
found myself very weak; however, I killed a she-goat, and, with much
difficulty, got it home, and broiled some of it, and ate; I would fain
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 to drink.
Prayed to God again, but was light-headed: and when I was not, I
was so ignorant, that I knew not what to say, only I lay, and cried,
“ord, look upon me! Lord, pityme! Lord, have mercy upon me My
I suppose I did nothing else for two or three hours, till, the fit wearing
off, I fell asleep, and did not wake till far in the night; when I waked,
I found myself much refreshed, but weak, and exceeding 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 wull,
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 towards him; his countenance was most
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..: :

Ile was no sooner landed upon the éarth but he moved: fo
towards me, with a long spear, or weapon, in his hand to kill me;

XN






106 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



when he came to a rising ground, at some distance, he spoke to me, or
I heard a voice so terrible, that it is 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 spear 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 this terrible vision; I
mean, that even while it was a dream, I even dreamed of those horrors;
nor is it any more possible to describe the impression that remained
upon my mind, when I awaked and found it was but a dream.

T had, alas! no divine knowledge. What I 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 conversation
with nothing but such as were, like myself, wicked and profane to the
last degree. I donot remember that I had, in all that time, one thought
that so much as tended either to looking upwards toward God, or
inwards towards a reflection upon my own ways. But a certain.
stupidity of soul, without desire of good, or conscience of evil, had.
entirely overwhelmed me, and I was all that the most hardened,
unthinking, wicked creature, among our common sailors, can be supposed
to be, not having the least sense, either of the fear of God in danger,
or of thankfulness to God in deliverances.

In the relating what is already past of my story, this will be the
more 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 it being the hand of God, or that it was a just punishment
for my sin,—my rebellious behaviour against my father, or my present
sins, which were great,—or so much as a punishment for the general
course of my wicked life. When I was on the desperate expedition on
the desert shores of Africa, I never had so much as one thought of
what would become of me, or one wish to God to direct me whither I
should go, or keep me from the danger which apparently surrounded
me, as well from voracious creatures as cruel savages: but I was merely
thoughtless of a God, or a Providence, acted like a mere brute, from
the principles of nature, and by the dictates of common sense only,
and indeed hardly that.

When I was delivered, and taken up at sea by the Portugal captain,
well used, and dealt justly and honourably with, as well as charitably,
T had not the least thankfulness in my thoughts. When again I was
shipwrecked, ruined, and in danger of drowning on this island, I was
as far from remorse, or looking on it as a judgment,—lI only said to my-
self often that I wasan unfortunate dog, and born to be always miserable.
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. Jor

It is true, when I got on shore first here, and found all ‘my ships
crew drowned, and myself spared, I was surprised with a kind of
ecstasy, and some transports of soul, which, had the grace of God
assisted, might have come up to true thankfulness ; but it ended where
it began, in a mere common flight of j joy, or, as I may say, being glad
I was alive, without the least reflection upon the distinguishing good-
ness of the hand which had preserved me, and had singled me out to
be preserved, when all the rest were destroyed; or an inquiry why
Providence had been thus merciful to me: even just the same common
sort of joy which seamen generally have, after they have got safe on
shore 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 afterwards, on due consideration, made sensible of
my condition, how I was cast on this dreadful place, out of the reach
of human kind, out of all hope of relief, or 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 be very easy, applied myself to the works proper for my preserva-
tion and supply, and was far enough from being afilicted at my condi-
tion, as a judgment from Heaven, or as the hand of God against me:
these were thoughts which very seldom entered into my head.

The growing up of the corn, as is hinted in my journal, had at first
some little influence upon me, and began to affect me with seriousness,
as long as I thought it had something miraculous in it; but as soon as
ever that part of thought was removed, all the impression which was
raised from it wore off also, as I have noted already.



Even the earthquake, though nothing could be more terrible i in its

nature, or more immediately directing to the invisible Power, which
alone directs such things; yet no sooner was the first fright over, but
the impression it had made went off also. I had no more sense of God
or Bis judgments, much less of the present affliction of my circum-
stances being from his hand, than if I had been in the most prosperous
condition ofdife.

But now, when I began to be sick, and a leisurely view of the mise-
ries.of death came to place itself before me; when my spirits began to
sink under the burden of a strong distemper, and nature was exhausted
with the violence of the fever, conscience, that had slept so long, began
to awake, and I began to reproach myself with my past life, in which
Thad so evidently, by uncommon wickedness, provoked the justice of
God to lay me under uncommon strokes, and to deal with me- in 80
vindietve @ manner.


108 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

These reflections oppressed me from the second or third day of my
distemper ; and in the violence, as well of the fever as of the dreadful
reproaches of ny conscience, extorted some words from me, like pray-
ing to God, though I cannot say they were either a prayer attended
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 of dying in such a miserable condition raised
vapours into my head with the mere apprehensions; and, in these
hurries of my soul, I knew not what my tongue might express: but it
was rather exclamation, such as, “Lord! what a miserable creature
am I! IfI 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 in the beginning of this
story, namely, that, if I did take this foolish step, God would not bless
me, and I would 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 jus-
tice has overtaken me, and I have none to help or hear me. I rejected
the voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a posture, or
station of life, wherein I might have been happy and easy ; but I would
neither see it myself, nor learn to know the blessing of it from my
parents. I left them to mourn over my folly, and now I am left to
mourn under the consequences of it. I refused their help and assist-
ance, who would have lifted me into the world, and would have made
every thing easy to me, and now I have difficulties to struggle with, too
great for even nature itself to support, and no assistance, no help, no
comfort, no advice.” Then I cried out, ‘“‘Lord, be my help; for I am
in great distress |”

This was the first prayer, if I might call it so, that I had minds for
many years. But I return to my journal.

June 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 considered 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: and
the first thing I did, I filled a large square case-bottle with water, and
set it upon my table in reach of my bed; and to take off the chill or
aguish disposition of the water, I put about a quarter of a pint of rum
into it, and mixed them together; then I got me a piece of the goat's
flesh, and broiled it on the coals but could eat very little. I walked .

é
gf
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE 109







about, but was very weak, and withal very sad and heavy-hearted,
under a sense of my miserable condition, dreading the return of my

distemper the next day. 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, even, as I could remember, 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 went out without that); so I
went but a little way, and sat down upon the ground, looking out upon
the sea, which was just before me, and very calm and smooth. As I
sat here, some such thoughts as these occurred to me :—

What is the earth and sea, of which I have seen so much? Whence
is it produced? And what am I, and all the other creatures, wild and
tame, human and brutal: whence are we?

Sure we are all-made by some secret Power, who formed the. garth
and sea, the air and sky: and who is that?

Then it followed most naturally :—It is God that has made it all.

Well, but then—it came on strangely—if God has made all these |
things, he guides and governs them all, and all things that concern =~
them; for the Being that could make all things, must certainly have’).

power to guide and direct them. \

If so, nothing can happen in the great circuit of his works, either
without his knowledge or appointment.

And if nothing happens without his knowledge, he knows that I am
here, and am in a dreadful condition; and if nothing happens without
his appointment, he has appointed all this to befall me.

Nothing occurred to my thoughts to contradict any of these conclu-

sions; and therefore it rested upon me with the greater force, that it
must needs be that God had appointed all this to befall me; that I
was brought to this miserable circumstance by his direction, he having
the sole power, not of me only, but of every thing that happened in
the world. Immediately it followed.

Why has God done thisto me? What have I done to be thus used?

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 mis-
spent life, and ask thyself what thou hast not done? Ask why is it
that 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 pom but thyself?
Dost thou ask, What have I done?” :



Se






110 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



I was struck with these reflections, as one astonished, and had not a
word to say,—no, not to answer to myself; but rose up pensive and
sad, walked back to my retreat, and went up 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 my chair, and lighted my
lamp, for it began to be dark. Now, as the apprehensions 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.

I went, directed by Heaven, no doubt; for in this chest I found a
cure both for soul and body. JI opened the chest, and found what I
looked for, namely, 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 time, I 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 } knew not, as to my distemper,
or whether it was good for it or no; 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 a leaf, and chewed it in my mouth, which indeed at first
almost stupified my brain, the tobacco being green and strong, and I
had not been much used to it; 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 the virtue of it, and I held almost to suffocation.

In the interval of this operation, I took up the Bible, and began to
read; but my head was too much disturbed with the tobacco to bear
reading, at least at that time; only, having opened the book casu-
ally, the first words that occurred to me were these: “Call on me in
the day of trouble, and I will deliver ; and thou shalt glorify me.”

The words were very apt to my case, and made some impression
upon my thoughts at the time of reading them, though not so much as
they did afterwards; for, as for being delivered, the word had no
sound, as I may say, tome. The thing was so remote, so impossible,
in my apprehension of things, that I began to say, as the children of
Israel did, when they were promised flesh to eat, “Can God spread a
table in the wilderness?” So I began to say, “Can God himself de-
liver me from this place?” And as it was not for many years that
any hope appeared, this prevailed very often upon my thoughts. But,
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 111



however, the words made a very great impression upon me, and ]
mused upon them very often. It grew now late, and the tobacco had.
as I said, dozed my head so much that I inclined to sleep, so that I
left my lamp burning in the cave, lest I should want any thing in the
night, and went to bed. But before 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, that if I called upon him in the day of trouble, he
would deliver me. After my broken 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 indeed I could scarce get it down.
Immediately upon this, I went to bed, and found presently it flew up
into my head violently; but I fell into a sound sleep, and waked no
more, till, by the sun, it must necessarily be near three o'clock in the
afternoon the next day; nay, to this hour, I am partly of the 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 recrossing the line, I
should have lost more than a day; but in my account it was lost, and
I never knew which way.

Be that, however, one way or other; when I awaked, I found my-
self 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 Iwas hungry; and, in short, I had no fit the next day,
but continued much altered for the better; this was the 29th.

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; sol 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, namely, 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 ; however, 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 spice of the cold fit, but it was not much.

July 2.—I renewed the medicine all the three ways, and dosed my-
self 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 upou
my mind, in har of my ever expecting it; but as I was discouraging

*


BIBLE.

r
i

T

E ILL, READING TI

USO

CR

12
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. — , 113

myself with such thoughts, it occurred to my pnats that J ne 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: namely, Have I not been delivered,
and wonderfully too, from sickness? from the most distressing con-
dition that could be, and that was so frightful to me? and what notice
had I taken of it? had I done my part? God had delivered me, but I
had not glorified him,—that is to say, I had not owned and been
thankful for that as a deliverance; and how could I expect greater
deliverance ?

This touched my heart very much, and immediately I kneeled 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 myself
to read a while every morning and every night, not tying myself to
the number of chapters, but as long as my thoughts should engage me.
It was not long after I set seriously to this work, but I found my heart
more deeply and sincerely affected with the wickedness of my past life.
The impression of my dream revived; and tte words, “All these

things have not brought thee to repentance,” ran seriously in my os

thoughts. I was carnestly begging of God to give. me repentance,
when it happened providentially that very day, that, ‘reading the
Scripture, I came to these words: ‘He is pxaied 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 hand lifted up to heaven,
in a kind of ecstasy of joy, I cried out aloud, “Jesus, thou Son of
David! Jesus, thou exalted Prince and Saviour, give me repentance !”

This was the first time that I could say, in the true sense of the
words, that I prayed in all my life; 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 any thing being called de-
liverance, but my being delivered from the captivity I was in: for,
though I was indeed at large in the place, yet the island was certainly
a prison to me, and that in the worst sense of the word; but now I
learned to take it inanother sense. Now I looked back on my past life
with such horror, and my sins appeared so dreadful, that my soul
sought nothing of God but deliverance from the load of guilt that bore

down all my Jocuri As for my solitary life, it was nothing ; I did
8

ht aati es


114 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURLS



not so much as pray to be delivered from it, or think of it; it was all
of no consideration in comparison of 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 much greater blessing
than deliverance from affliction.

But, leaving this part, I return to my journal.

My condition began now to be, though not less miserable as to my
way of living, yet much easier to my mind; and my thoughts being
directed, by a constant reading the Scripture and praying to God, to
things of a higher nature, I had a great deal of comfort within, which
till now, I knew nothing of: also, as my health and strength returned,
I bestirred myself to furnish myself with every thing 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 walking
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 re-
duced. The application which I made use of was perfectly new, and,
perhaps, what had never cured an ague before; neither can I recom-
mend it to any one to practise by this experiment ; and though it did
carry off the fit, yet it rather contributed to weaken 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 hurri-
canes of wind; for, as the rain which came in a dry season was always
most accompanied with such storms, so I found this rain was much
more dangerous than the rain which fell in September and October.

I had been now in this unhappy island above ten months: all pos-
sibility of deliverance from this condition seemed to be entirely taken
from me; and I firmly believed, that no human shape had ever set
foot upon that place. Having now secured my habitation, as I thuught,
fully to my mind, I had a great desire to make a more perfect discovery
of the island, and to see what other productions I might find, which
yet I knew nothing ..
Ta

OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 115



CHAPTER VII. \

{ begin to take a survey of my Island—Discover plenty of Tobacco, Grapes, Lemons,
and Sugar Canes, wild, but no human inhabitants—Resolve to lay up a Store of these
Articles, to furnish me against the wet Season—My Cat, which I supposed lost, re-
turns with Kittens—I regulate my Diet, and shut myself up for the wet Season—
Sow my Grain which comes to nothing ; but I discover and remedy my error—Take
account of the course of the Weather.

It was the 15th of July that I began to take a more particular sur-
vey of the island itself. I went up 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 than
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 enough to run into any stream, so as it could be perceived.

On the banks of this brook I found many pleasant savannas o1
meadows, plain, smooth, and covered with 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 great and very strong stalk; there were divers other
plants, which I had no notion of or understanding about, and might
perhaps 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 I could find none. I saw large plants of
aloes, but did not then understand them; I saw several sugar-canes,
but wild, and, for want of cultivation, imperfect. I contented myself
with these discoveries for this 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 had made so little observation phil I was
in the Brazils, that I knew little of the plants of 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 farther than I had done the day before, I found the:
brook and the savannas began to cease, and the country’became more:
woody than before. In this part I found different fruits, and particu-
larly I found molons upon the ground i in great shuns ahd grapes





116 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

clusters of grapes were now just in their prime, very ripe and rich.
This was a surprising discovery, and I was exceeding 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; but I found an excellent use for these 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 indeed they
were, as wholesome and as agreeable to eat, when no grapes might 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
home. In the night I took my first contrivance, and got up into a
tree, where I slept well, and the next morning proceeded upon my dis-
covery, travelling near four miles, as I might judge by the length of
the valley, keeping still due north, with a ridge of hills on the south
and north side 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 otller way, that
is, due cast; .and the country appeared so fresh, so green, so flourish-
ing, every thing being in a constant verdure, or flourish of spring, that
it looked like a planted garden. X

I descended a little on the side of that delicious valley, surveying it
with a secret kind of pleasure (though mixed with other afflicting
thoughts), to 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 it, I might have it in inheritance, as completely as any
lord of a manor in England. I saw here abundance of cocoa trees,
orange, and lemon, and citron trees, but all wild, and few bearing any
fruit; at least, not then: however, the green limes that I gathered
were not only pleasant to eat, but very wholesome ; and I mixed their
Juice afterwards with water, which made it very wholesome, and very
cool and refreshing.

I found now Thad business enough to gather and carry home; and
resolved to lay up a store, as well of grapes as limes and lemons, to
furnish myself for the wet season, which I knew was approaching.

In order to do this, I gathered a great heap of grapes ix. one place,
and a lesser heap in another place, and a great parcel of limes and
lemons in another place; and taking a few of each with me, I travelled
homeward and resolved to come again and bring a bag or sack, or what
I could make, to carry the rest home.
Oe re eve GS hen heat

OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 17



Accordingly, having spent three days in this journey, I came home,
(so [ must now call my tent and my cave); but before I got thither,
the grapes were spoiled; the richness of the fruit and the weight of
the juice having broken them and bruised them, they were good for
little or nothing: as to the limes, they were good, but I could bring
but a few.

The next day, being the 19th, I went back, having made me two
small bags to bring home my harvest. But I was surprised, when,
coming to my heap of grapes, which were so rich and fine when I
gathered them, I found them all spread abroad, trod to pieces, and
dragged about, some here, some there, and abundance eaten and
devoured. By this I concluded there were some wild creatures there-
abouts, which had done this; but what they were I knew not.

However, as I found there was no laying them up on heaps, and no
carrying them away ina sack, but that one way they would be destroyed,
and the other way they would be crushed with their own weight, I
took another course; for I gathered a large quantjty of the grapes,
and hung them upon the out-branches of the trees, that they might
cure and dry in the sun; and as for the limes and lemons, I carried
as many back as I could well stand under.

When I came home from this journey, I contemplated, with great
pleasure, on the fruitfulness of that valley, and the pleasantness of the
situation, the security from storms on that side of the water, and the
wood; and concluded, that I had pitched upon a place to fix my abode,
which was by far the worst part of the country. Upon the whole, I
began to consider of removing my habitatien, and to look out for a
place, equally safe as where I now was situated, if possible, in that
pleasant, fruitful part of the island.

This thought ran long in my head, and I was exceeding fond of . it
for some time, the pleasantness of the place tempting me; but when I”
came to a nearer view of it, and to consider that I was now by the sea-
side, where it was at least possible that something might happen to
my advantage, and that the same ill fate that brought me hither, might
bring some other unhappy wretches to the same place; and.though it
was scarce probable that any such thing should ever happen, yet, to
enclose myself among the hills and woods, in the centre of the island, -
was to anticipate my bondage, and to render such an affair not only
improbable, but impossible; and that, therefore, I ought. not.by way,
means to remove.

However, I was so enamoured with this place, that I spent much of
lay time there for the whole remaining part of the month of July,;.and
though, upon second thoughts, I resolved, as above, not t0.




















S BOWER.

a
Ps

CRUSOE IN f
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 119

= > eS



I built me a little kind of a bower, and surrounded it, at a distance,
with a strong fence, being a double hedge, as high as I could reach,
well staked, and filled between with brushwood; and here I lay very
secure, sometimes two or three nights together, always going over it
with a ladder, as before; so that I fancied now I had my country
house, and my sea-coast house ; and this work took me up the begin-
ning of August.

[ had but newly finished my fence, and began to enjoy my labour,
when the rains came on, and made me stick close to my first habita-
tion; for, though I had made me a tent like the other, with a piece of
sail, and spread it very well, yet I had not the shelter of a hill to keep
me from storms, nor a cave behind me to retreat into when the rains
were extraordinary.

About the beginning of August, as I said, I had finished my bower,
and began to enjoy myself. The 8d of August I found the grapes 1
had hung up were perfectly dried, and, indeed, were excellent good
raisins of the sun; so I began to take them down from the trees, and
it was very happy that I did so, for the rains which followed would
have spoiled them, and I had lost the best part of my winter food; for
I had above two hundred large bunches of them. No sooner had I
taken them all down, and carried most of them home to my cave, but
it began to rain; and from thence, which was the 14th of August, it
rained more or less every day till the middle of October, and some-
times so violently that I could not stir out of my cave for several days.

In this season I was much surprised with the increase of my family:
I had been concerned for the loss of one of my cats, who ran away
from me, or, as I thought, had been dead; and I heard no more tale
or tidings of her, till, to my astonishment, she came home, about the
end of August, with three kittens. This was the more strange to me,
because, though I had killed a wild cat, as I called it, with my gun,
yet I thought it was a quite different kind from our European cats ;
yes the young cats were the same kind of house breed like the ol
one; and both my cats being femsles, I thought it very strange: but
from these three cats, I afterwards came to be so pestered with cats,
that I-vas forced to kill them like vermin, or wild beasts, and to drive
them from my house as much as possible.

From the 14th of August to the 26th, incessant rain, so that I could
not stir, and was now very careful not to be much wet. In this con-
finement I began to be straitened for food; but venturing out twice, I
one day killed a goat; and the last day, which was the 26th, found a
very large tortoise, which was a treat to me, and my food was regu-—
lated thus: I ate a bunch of raisins for my ee, a piece of the.








ae
120 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



goat's flesh, or of the turtle, for my dinner, broiled (for, to my great
misfortune, I had no vessel to boil or stew any thing), and two or three
of the turtle’s eggs for supper.

During this confinement in my cover by the rain, I worked daily
two or three hours at enlarging my cave; and, by degrees, worked it
on towards one side, till I came to the outside of the hill, and made a
door or way out, which came beyond my fence, or wall; and so I came
in and out this way. But I was not perfectly easy at lying so open;
for, as I had managed myself before, I was in a perfect enclosure,
whereas now I thought I lay exposed; and yet I could not perceive
that there was any living thing to fear, the biggest creature that I had
seen upon the island being a goat.

September the 30th.—I was now come to the unhappy anniversary
of my landing: I cast up the notches on my post, and found I had
been on shore three hundred and sixty-five days. I kept this day as
a solemn fast, setting it apart to a religious exercise, prostrating my-
self to the ground with the most serious humiliation, confessing myself
to God, acknowledging his righteous judgment upon me, and praying
to him to have mercy on me, through Jesus Christ; and having not
tasted the least refreshment for twelve hours, even till the going down
of the sun, I then ate a biscuit-eake and a bunch of grapes, and went
to bed, finishing the day as I began it.

T had all this time observed no Sabbath-day, for as at first I had no
sense of religion upon my mind, I had, after some time, omitted to
distinguish the weeks, by making a longer notch than ordinary for
the Sabbath-day, and so did not really know what any of the days
were; but now, having cast up the days as above, I found I had been
there a year; so I divided it into weeks, and set apart every seventh
day for a Sabbath; though I found, at the end of my account, I had
lost a day or two of my reckoning.

A little after this my ink began to fail me, and so I contented
myself to use it more sparingly, and to write down only the most
remarkable events of my life, without continuing a daily memorandum
of other things.

The rainy season and the di



season began now to appear regular



to me, and I learned to divide them so as to provide for them
accordingly. But I bought aii my experience before I had it; and
this I am going to relate, was one of the most discouraging experi-
ments that I made at all. Ihave mentioned, that I had saved the
few cars of barley and rice which I had so surprisingly found spring
ap, as I thought, of themselves, and believe there were about thirty
stalks of rice, anil about twenty of Eiley; and now I thought it a
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. Lz



CRUSOH’S CAT FAMILY.

proper time to sow it after the rains, the sun being in its southern
position going from me.

Accordingly, I dug up a piece of ground, as well as I could, with
my wooden spade, and dividing it into two parts, IT sowed my grain;
but as I was sowing, it casually occurred to my thought, that I would
not sow it all at first, because I did not know when was the proper
time for it; so I sowed about two-thirds of the seeds, leaving about a
handful of each.

It was a great comfort to me afterwards that I did so, for not one
grain of that I sowed this time came to any thing ; for the dry months
following, the earth having had no rain after the seed was sown, it had
no moisture to assist its growth, and never came up at all, till the wet
season had come again, and then it grew as if it had been newly sown.

Finding my first seed did not grow, which I easily imagined was by
the drought, I sought for a moister piece of ground to make another
trial in; and I dug up a piece of ground near my new bower, and
sowed the rest of my seed in February, a little before the vernal
equinox; and this, having the rainy months of March and April to
water it, sprung up very pleasantly, and yielded a very good crop;

but having part of the secd left only, and not daring to sow all that 1
had vet, I had but a small quantity at last, my whole crop not
YI, THk LIFE AND ADVENTURES

ch

CRUSOH MAKING BASKETS.
amounting to above half a peck of each kind.

But by this experience I was made master of my business, and huew
exactly when the proper season was to sow; and that I might expect
two seed-times and two harvests every year.

While this corn was growing, I made a little discovery, which was
of use to me afterwards. As soon as the rains were over, and the
weather began to settle, which was about the month of November, I
made a visit up the country to my bower, where, though I had not
been some months, yet I found all things just as I left them. The
circle or double hedge that 1 had made, was not only firm and entire,
but the stakes which I had cut off of some trees that grew thereabouts,
were all shot out, and grown with long branches, as much as a willow
tree usually shoots the first year after lopping its head. I could not
tell what tree to call it that these stakes were cut from. I was sur-
prised, and yet very well pleased to see the young trees grow; and I
pruned them and led them up to grow as much alike as I could ; and
it is scarce credible how beautiful a figure they grew into in three
years; so that though the hedge made a circle of about twenty-five
yards in diameter, yet the trees, for such 1 might now ratl them, soon
covered it; and it was a complete shade, sufficient to lodge under all

the dry season.


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 198

This made me resolve to cut some more stakes, and make me a hedge
like this in a semicircle round my wall, I mean that of my first dwell
ing, which I did; and placing the trees, or stakes, in a double row, at
above eight yards distance from my first fence, they grew presently,
and were at first a fine cover to my habitation, and afterwards served
for a defence also, as I shall observe in its order.

I found now, that the seasons of the year might generally be

divided, not into summer and winter, as in Europe, but into the rainy
seasons and the dry seasons, which were generally thus:—

Rainy, the sun being then on, or near, the

March equinox.

Tlalf April,
Half April,

Half February, }

May, Dry, the sun being then to the north of tho
June, line.
July,

Tlalf August,
Half August,

September, } Rain, the sun being then come back.
Half October,

Ialf October, |
November, Dry, the sun being then to the south of the
December, ine
January, :
Half February,

The rainy season sometimes held longer or shorter, as the winds
happened to blow; but this was the gencral observation I made.
After I had found, by experience, the ill consequence of being abroad
in the rain, I took care to furnish myself with provision beforehand,
that I might not be obliged to go out; and I sat within doors as much
as possible during the wet months.

In this time I found much employment (and very suitable also to
the time), for I found great occasion of many things which I had no
way to furnish myself with, but by hard labour and constant applica-

tion; particularly, I tried many ways to make myself a basket; but .

all the twigs I could get for the purpose proved so brittle that they
would do nothing. It proved of excellent advantage to me now, that
when I was a boy I used to take great delight in standing at a basket-

maker’s in the town where my father lived, to see them make their.
Wicker-ware ; and being, as boys usually are, very officious to help,






194 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



and a great observer of the manner how they worked those things,

and sometimes lent a hand, I had by this means so full knowledge of

the methods of it, that I wanted nothing but the materials; when it

came into my mind, that the twigs of that tree from whence I eut my

stakes that grew, might possibly be as tough as the sallows, and
. Willows, and osiers, in England; and I resolved to try.

Accordingly, the next day I went to my country- -house, as I called
it; and cutting some of the smaller twigs, I found them to my pur-
pose as much as I could desire; whereupon I came the next time pre-
pared with a hatchet to cut down a quantity, which I soon found, for
there was a great plenty of them: these I sect up to dry within my
circle, or hedges; and when they were fit for usc, I carried them to
my cave; and here, during the next season, I employed myself in

making (as well as I could) a great many baskets, both to carry carth,
or to carry or lay up any thing, as I had oceasion; and though I did
not finish them very handsomely, yet I made them sufficiently service-
able for my purpose; and thus afterwards I took care never to be
without them: and as my wicker-ware decayed I made more; especi-
ally I made strong deep baskets to place my corn in, instead of sacks,
when I should come to have any quantity of it.

Having mastered this difficulty, and employed a world of time about
it, I bestirred myself to see, if possible, how to supply two wants: I
had no vessels to hold any thing that was liquid, except two runlets,
which were almost full of rum, and some glass bottles, some of the
common size, and others, which were case-bottles, square, for the
holding of waters, spirits, &c. I had not so much as a pot to boil any
thing in, except a great kettle which I saved out of the ship, and
which was too big for such uses as I desired it for, namely, to make
broth, and stew a bit of meat by itself. The second thing I would
fain have had, was a tobacco-pipe, but it was impossible for me to
make one; however, I found a contrivance for that too at last.

T employed myself in planting my second rows of stakes of piles,
and in this wicker-work, all the summer, or dry season; when another
business took me up more time than it could be imagined I could spare.
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. : 125



CHAPTER VIII.

Alake a second Tour through the Island—Catch a young Parrot, which I afterwarda
teach to spenk—My Mode of sleeping at Night—Find the other side of the Island
much more pleasant than mine, and covered with Turtle and Sea-fowl—Catch a
young Kid, which I tame—Return to my old Heabitation—Great plague with my
Harvest.

I MENTIONED before, that I had a great mind to sce the whole island,
and that I had travelled up the brook, and so on to where I built my
bower, and where I had an opening quite to the sea, on the other side
of the island. I now resolved to travel quite across to the sca-shore
on that side. So, taking my gun and hatchet, and my dog, and a
larger quantity of powder and shot than usual, with two Gecucae
and a great bunch of raisins in my pouch, for my store, I began my
journcy. When I had passed the vale where my bower stood, as
above, I came within view of the sca, to the west; and it being a very
clear day, I fairly descried land, whether an island or continent I
could not tell; but it lay very high, extending from the west to the
west-south-west, at a very great distance; by my guess it could not be
less than fifteen or twenty leagues off.

I could not tell what part of the world this might be, otherwise than
that I knew it must be part of America; and, as I concluded by all
my observations, must be near the Spanish dominions, and perhaps
was all inhabited by savages, where, if I should have landed, I: had
been in a worse condition than I was now; and therefore I acquiesced °
in the dispositions of Providence, which I began now to own, and to
believe ordered every thing for the best,—I say, I quieted my mind
with this, and left afflicting myself with fruitless wishes of being there.

Besides, after some pause upon this affair, I considered, that if this
land was the Spanish coast, I should certainly, one time or other, see
some vessels pass or repass one way or other; but if not, then it was
the savage coast between the Spanish country and Brazil, which were.
indeed the worst of savages; for they-are cannibals, or men-eaters,
and fail not to murder and devour all the human bodies that fall into
their hands. ‘

With these considerations I walked very leisurely for ward. .I found
that side of the island where I now was much pleasanter thin mine,—
ties oven, or savanna fields sweet, adorned with flowers










126 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



full of very fine woods. I saw abundance of parrots, and fain would
I have caught one, if possible, to have kept it to be tame, and taught
it to speak to me. I did, after some pains-taking, catch a young pur-
rot; for I knocked it down with a stick, and having recovered it, I
brought it home, but it was some years before I could make him speak.
However, at last I taught him to call me by my name very familiarly;
but the accident that followed, though it be a trifle, will be very di-
verting in its place.

I was exceedingly diverted with this journey: I found in the low
grounds, hares, as I thought them to be, and foxes, but they differed
greatly from all the other kinds I had met with; nor could I satisfy
myself to eat them, though I killed several: but I had no need to be
venturous ; for I had no want of food, and of that which was very
good too; especially these three sorts, namely, goats, pigeons, and
turtle, or tortoise, which, added to my grapes, Leadenhall Market
could not have furnished a better table than I, in proportion to the
company : and though my case was deplorable enough, yet I had great
cause for thankfulness, that I was not driven to any extremities for
food; but rather plenty, even to dainties.

I never travelled in this journey above two miles outright in a day,
or thereabouts; but I took so many turns and returns, to see what dis-
coveries I could make, that I came wearied enough to the place where
I resolved to sit down for all night; and then either reposed myself in
a tree, or surrounded myself with a row of stakes set upright in the
ground, either from one tree to another, or so as no wild creature could
come at me without waking me.

As soon as I came to the sea-shore, I was surprised to sce that I had
taken up my lot on the worst side of the island; for here, indeed, the
- shore was covered with innumerable turtles, whereas, on the other side,
I had found but three in a year and a half. Here was also an infinite
number of fowls of many kinds, some of which I had not seen before,
and many of them very good meat; but such as I knew not the names
of, except those called penguins.

I could have shot as many as I pleased, but was very sparing of my
powder and shot; and therefore had more mind to kill a she-goat, if I
could, which I could better feed on: and though there were many
goats here, more than on the other side of the island, yet it was with
much more difficulty that I could come near them; the country being
flat and even, and they saw me much sooner than when J was on the
hills. ‘

I confess this side of the country was much pleasanter than mine,
but yet I had not the least inclination to remove; for as I was fixed




OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 197

a



an my habitation, it became natural to me, and I seemed all the while
{.was here, to be, as it were, upon a journey, and from home: how-
ever, I travelled along the shore of the sea towards the east, I suppose,
about twelve miles; and then setting up a great pole upon the shore
for a mark, I concluded I would go home again: and the next journey
I took should be on the other side of the island, east from my dwelling,
and so round, till I came to my post again; of which in its place.

I took another way to come back than that I went, thinking I could
easily keep all the island so much in my view, that I could no miss
finding my first dwelling by viewing the country: but 1 found myself
mistaken ; for, being come about two of three miles, I found myself
descended into a very large valley; but so surrounded with hills, and
those hills covered with woods, that I could not see which was my way
by any direction but that of the sun; nor even then, unless I knew
very well the position of the sun at that time of the day.

It happened, to my farther misfortune, that the weather proved
hazy for three or four days, while I was in this valley; and not
being able to see the sun, I wandered about very uncomfortably, and
at last was obliged to find out the sea-side, look for my post, and
come back the same way I went; and then by easy journeys I turned
homeward, the weather being exceeding hot, and my gun, ammunition,
hatchet, and other things, very heavy.

In this journey, my dog surprised a young kid, and seized upon it;
and I running in to take hold of it, caught it, and saved it alive from
the dog. I had a great mind to bring it home, if I could:: for I had
often been musing whether it might not be possible to get a kid or two,
and so raise a breed of tame goats, which might supply me when my
powder and shot should be spent. '



I made a collar for this little creature, and with a string which I |

made of some rope-yarn, which I always carried about me, I led him
along, though with some difficulty, till I came to my bower, and there
I enclosed him, and left him, for I was very impatient to be at home,
from whence I had been absent above a month.

I cannot express what a satisfaction it was to me to come into my
old hutch, and lie down in my hammock-bed: this little wandering
journey, without a settled place of abode, had been so unpleasant to
me, that my own house, as I called it to myself, was a perfect settle-
ment to me, compared to that; and it rendered every thing about me
so comfortable, that I paslved I would never go a great way from
it again, while it should be my lot to stay on the island.

I reposed mvself here a week, to rest and regale myself after my
long deumey during which, most of the time was’ taken up in the:

sche


128 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

weighty affair of making a cage for my Poll, who began now to be a
mere domestic, and to be mighty well acquainted with me. Then 1
began to think of the poor kid which I had pent in within my little
circle, and resolved to go and fetch it home, and give it some food;
accordingly I went, and found it where I left it; for, indeed, it could
not get out, but was almost starved for want of food. I went and cut
boughs of trees and branches of such shrubs as could find, and threw
it over, and having fed it, I tied it as I did before to lead it away; but
it was so tame with being hungry, that I had no need to have tied it,
for it followed me like a dog ; and as I continually fed it, the creature
became so loving, so gentle, and so fond, that it became from that
time one of my domestics also, and would never leave me afterwards.

The rainy season of the autumnal equinox was now come, and I kept
the 30th of September in the same solemn manner as before, being
the anniversary of my landing on the island, having now been there
two years, and no more prospect of being. delivered than the first day
I came there. I spent the whole day in humble and thankful acknow-
ledgments of the many wonderful mercies which my solitary condition
was attended with, and without which it might have been infinitely.
more miserable. I gave humble and hearty thanks, that God had.
been pleased to discover to me even that it was possible I might be
more happy in this solitary condition than I should have been in a
liberty of society, and in all the pleasures of the world: that he could
fully make up to me the deficiencies of my solitary state, and the want
of human society, by his presence and the communication of his grace.
to my soul, surWorting, comforting, and encouraging me to depend
upon his prov? nee here and hope for his eternal presence hereafter.

It was nowe..iat I began sensibly to feel how much more happy the
life I now led was, with all its miserable circumstances, than the-
wicked, cursed, abominable life I led all the past part of my days:
anil now, having changed both my sorrows and my joys, my very
desires altered;+my affections changed their gust, and my delights.
were perfectly new from what they were at my first coming, or indeed
for the two years past.

Before, as I walked about, either on my hunting or for viewing the
country, the anguish of my soul at my condition would break out upon
me on a sudden, and my very heart would die within me to think of the-
woods, the mountains, the deserts I was in; and howI was a prisoner,
locked up with the eternal bars and bolts of the ocean, in an unin-
habited wilderness, without redemption. In the midst of the greatest
composnres of my mind, this would break out upon me like a storm,.
and made me wring my hands, and. weep like a. child. Sometimes it




re ee Gets ep ae



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 129



would take me in the middle of my work, and I would immediately: sit
down and sigh, and look upon the ground for an hour or two together,
and this was still worse to me; for if I could burst out into tears, or
vent myself by words, it would go off; and the grief, having exhausted
itself, would abate.

But now I began to exercise myself with new thoughts; I daily read
the word of God, and applied all the comforts of it to my present state.
One morning, being very sad, I opened the Bible upon these words,
‘¢ J will never leave thee, nor forsake thee!’’ Immediately it occurred
that these words were to me; why else should they be directed in such
a manner, just at the moment when I was mourning over my condition,
as one forsaken of God and man? ‘‘ Well then,’’-said I, “if God does
not forsake me, of what ill consequence can it be, or what matters it
though the world should all forsake me; seeing, on the other hand, if
I had all the world, and should lose the favour and blessing of God,
there would be no comparison in the loss?”

From this moment I began to conclude in my mind that it was possi-
ble for me to be more happy in this forsaken, solitary condition, than
it was probable I should have ever been in any other particular state — , .
in the world; and with this thought I was going to give thanks to Godt?
for bringing me to this place.

I know not what it was, but something shocked my mind: at thet
thought, and I durst not speak the words. ‘‘ How canst thou be such
a hypocrite,” said I, even audibly, “‘to pretend to be thankful for.a.
condition, which, however thou mayst endeavour to be, contented with, “2
thou wouldst rather pray heartily to be delivered fron.” So. Fatoppea 4
there: but though I could not say I thanked God foi ing there, yet
I sincerely gave thanks to God for opening my ey by whatever...
afflicting providences, to see the former condition of my life, ando “
mourn for my wickedness, and repent. I never opened the Bible, or
shut it, but my very soul within me blessed God for directing my friend
in England, without any order of mine, to pack it up among my goods,
and for assisting me afterwards to save it out of the wreck of the‘ship.

Thus, and in this disposition of mind, I began my third years and . :
though I have not given the reader the trouble of so particular an
account of my works this year as at the first, yet-in general. it-may be
observed that I was very seldom idle, having regularly diyidee nie’
according to the several daily employments’ hat: were /
such as, first, my duty to God, and reading the Scriptires,
constantly set apart some time for, thrice every day.; se dy “3
going abroad with my gun for food, which "generally: took. me up-three 3
hours-every morning when it did nat ain thirdly the 61

9 4













vo AR Aan

130 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

preserving and cooking what I had killed or catched for my supply;
these took up great part of the day: also it is to be considered, that in
the middle of the day, when the sun was in the zenith, the violence of
the heat was too great to stir out; so that about four hours in the
evening was all the time I could be supposed to work in; with this
exception, that sometimes I changed my hours of hunting and working,
and went to work in the morning, and abroad with my gun in the after-
noon.

To this short time allowed for labour, I desire may be added the
exceeding laboriousness of my work; the many hours which, for want
of tools, want of help, and want of skill, every thing that I did took
up out of my time: for example, I was full two-and-forty days making
me a board for a long shelf, which I wanted in my cave; whereas, two
sawyers, with their tools and saw-pit, would have cut six of them out
of the same tree in half a day.

My case was this: it was to be a large tree which was to be cut down,
because my board was to be a broad one. The tree I was three days of
cutting down, and two more cutting. off the boughs, and reducing it to
a log, or piece of timber. With inexpressible hacking and hewing, I
reduced both the sides of it into chips, till it began to be light enough
to move; then I turned it, and made one side of it smooth and flat, as
a board, from end to end; then, turning that side downward, cut the
other side till I brought the plank to be about three inches thick, and
smooth on both sides. Any one may judge the labour of my hanils in
such a piece of work; but labour and patience carried me through that
and many other things: I only observe this in particular, to show the
reason why so much of my time went away with so little work, namely,
that what might be a little to be done with help and tools, was a vast
labour, and required a prodigious time, to do alone and by hand.

But notwithstanding this, with patience and labour, I went through
many things, and indeed every thing that my circumstances made
necessary for me to do, as will appear by what follows.

I was now in the months of November and December, expecting my
crop of barley and rice. The ground I had manured or dug up for
them was not great; for, as I ohserved, my seed of each was not above
the quantity of half a peck, for I had lost one whole crop by sowing
in the dry season; but now my crop promised very well, when on a
sudden I found I was in danger of losing it all again by enemies
of several sorts, which it was scarce possible to keep from it; as first,
the goats, and wild creatures which I called hares, which, tasting the
sweetness of the blade, ley‘in it night and day, as soon as it came up,
and ate it so close that it could get no time to shoot up into stalks.


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. © 181



This I saw no remedy for, but by making an enclosure about it with
a hedge, which I did with a great deal of toil; and the more, because
it required a great deal of speed, the creatures daily spoiling my corn,
However, as my arable land was but small, suited to my crop, I got it
totally well fenced in about three weeks time, and shooting some of the
creatures in the daytime, I set my dog to guard it in the night, tying
him up to a stake at the gate, where he would stand and bark all night
long; so in a little time the enemies forsook the place, and the corn
grew very strong and well, and began to ripen apace.

But as the beasts ruined me before, while my corn was in the: blade,
so the birds were as likely to ruin me now, when it was in the ear; for,
going along by the place to see how it throve, I saw my little crop
surrounded with fowls of I know not how many sorts, which stood as it
were watching till I should be gone. I immediately let fly among
them, (for I always had my gun with me). I had no sooner shot, but
there arose up a little cloud of fowls, which I had not seen at all, from
among the corn itself.

This touched me sensibly; for I foresaw that, in a few days, they
would devour all my hopes; that I should be starved, and never be able
to raise a crop at all; and what to do I could not tell; however, I
resolved not to lose my corn, if possible, though I should watch it night
and day. In the first place, I went among it to see what damage was
already done, and found they had spoiled a good deal of it; but that,
as it was yet too green for them, the loss was not so great, but the
remainder was like to be a good crop, if it could be saved.

I stayed by it to load my gun, and then coming away, I could easily
see the thieves sitting upon all the trees about me, as if they only
waited till I was gone away, and the event proved it to be so; for, as 1
walked off as if I was gone, I was no sooner out of their sight but they
dropped down one by one into the corn again. I was so provoked that
I could not have patience to stay till more came on, knowing that every
grain that they ate now was, as it might be said, a peck loaf to me in
the consequence ; but, coming up to the hedge, I fired again, and killed
three of them. This was what I wished for; so I took them up, and
served them as we serve notorious thieves in England, namely, hanged
them in chains for a terror to others. It is impossible to imagine
alinost that this should have such an effect as it had; for the fowls
would not only not come at the corn, but, in short, they forsook allthat
part of the island, and I could never see @ bird near the place ‘ag fong
as my scarecrows hung there. ep ART Die a

This I was very glad of, you may be sure; and about the
of December, which was our second harvest of the year, Trea



182 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



I was sadly put to it for a scythe or a sickle to cut it down, and all
[ could do was to make one, as well as I could, out of one of the broad-
swords, or cutlasses, which I saved among the arms out of the ship.
However, as my crop was but small, I had no great difficulty to cut
it down: in short, I reaped it my way, for I cut nothing off but tne
ears, and carried it away in a great basket which I had made, and so
rubbed it out with my hands; and, at the end of all my harvesting, I
found that out of my half peck of seed I had near two bushels of rice,
and above two bushels and a half of barley, that is ‘to say, by my
guess, for I had no measure at that time.

However, this was a great encouragement to me; and I foresaw that
in time it would please God to supply me with bread: and yet here I
was perplexed again, for I neither knew how to grind or make meal
of my corn, or, indeed, how to clean it and part it; nor, if made into
meal, how to make bread of it; and if how to make it, yet I knew not
how to bake it. These things being added to my desire of having a
good quantity for store, and to secure a constant supply, I resolved
not to taste any of this crop, but to preserve it all for seed against the
next season, and, in the mean time, to employ all my study and hours
of working to accomplish this great work of providing myself with corn
and bread.

It might be truly said, that I now worked for my bread. It is a little
wonderful, and what I believe few people have thought much upon, name-
ly, the strange multitude of little things necessary in the providing, pro-
ducing, curing, dressing, making, and finishing this one article of bread.

I, that was reduced to a mere state of nature, found this to be my
daily discouragement, and was made more and more sensible of it every
hour, even after I got the first handful of seed corn, which, as I have
said, came up unexpectedly, and indeed to a surprise.

First, I had no plough to turn the earth, no spade or shovel to dig
it. Well, this I conquered by making a wooden spade, as I observed
before; but this did my work but in a wooden manner; and though it
cost me a great many days to make it, yet, for want of iron, it not only
wore out the sooner, but made my work the harder, and made it be
performed much worse.

However, this I bore with too, and was content to work it out with
patience, and bear with the badness of the performance. When the
corn was sowed, I had no harrow, but was forced to go over it myself,
and drag a great heavy bough of a tree over it, to scratch the earth,
as it may be called, rather than rake or harrow it.

When it was growing, or grown, I have observed already how many
things I wanted, to fence it, secure it, now or reap it, cure or carry it
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 183















TEACHING THE PARROT TO TALK.

nome, thresh, part it from the chaff, and save it. Then I wanted a
mill to grind it, sieves to dress it, yeast and salt to make it into bread,
and an oven to bake it in; and all these things I did without, as shall
be observed; and yet the corn was an inestimable comfort and advan-
tage to me, too. But all this, as I said, made every thing laborious
and tedious to me, but that there was no help for: neither was my
time so much loss to me, because, as I had divided it, a certain part
of it was every day appointed to these works ; and as I resolved to use
none of the corn for. bread till I had a greater quantity by me, I had
the next six months to apply myself wholly, by labour and invention,
to furnish myself with utensils proper for performing all the operations
necessary for making the corn, when I had it, fit for my use.

But first I was to prepare more land, for I had now seed enough to
sow above an acre of ground. Before I did this, I had a week’s work
it least to make me a spade, which, when it was done, was avery ,
sorry one indeed, and very heavy, and required double labour to work
with it; however, I went through that, and sowed my seeds in two
large flat pieces of ground, as near my house as I could find them to
my mind, and fenced them in with a good hedge, the stakes of which
were all cut off that wood which I had set before, which I knew would
134 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



grow; so that in one year’s time I knew I should have a quick or living
hedge, that would want but little repair. This work was not so little
as to take me up less than three months; because great part of that
time was in the wet season, when I could not go abroad.

Within doors, that is, when it rained and I could not go out, I found
employment on the following occasions; always observing, that all the
while I was at work, I diverted myself with talking to my parrot, and
teaching him to speak; and I quickly learned him to know his own
name, and at last to speak it out pretty loud, Pout, which was the first
word I ever heard spoken in the island by any mouth but my own.
This, therefore, was not my work, but an assistant to my work; for
now, as I said, I had a great employment upon my hands, as fol-
lows: namely, I had long studied, by some means or other, to make
myself some earthen vessels, which indeed I wanted sorely, but knew
not where to come at them: however, considering the heat of the cli-
mate, I did not doubt but, if I could find out any suitable clay, I might
botch up some such pot as might, being dried by the sun, be hard
enough and strong enough to bear handling, and to hold any thing
that was dry, and required to be kept so; and as this was necessary in
preparing corn, meal, &c., which was the thing I was upon, I resolved
to make some as large as I could, and fit only to stand like jars to hold
what should be put into them.



CHAPTER IX.

Tattempt to mould Earthen-ware, and succeed—Description of my mode of Baking—
Begin to make a Boat—After it is finished, am unable to get it down to the Water---
Serious Reflections—My Ink and Biscuit exhausted, and Clothes in a had state—
Contrive to make a Dress of Skins.

It would make the reader pity me, or rather laugh at me, to tell how
many awkward ways I took to raise this paste, what odd, misshappen,
ugly things I made; how many of them fell in, and how many fell out,
the clay not being stiff enough to bear its own weight; how many
eracked by the over-violent heat of the sun, being set out too hastily ;
and how many fell to pieces with only removing, as well before as after
they were dried; and in a word, how, after having laboured hard to
find the clay, to dig it, to temper it, to bring it home, and work it, I
could not make above two large earthen ugly things—I cannot call
them jars—in about two months’ labour.
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 135











Soa
mr ED
CRUSOE MAKING A COAT.

Ilowever, as the sun baked these two very dry and hard, I lifted

them very gently up, and set them down again in two great wicker
baskets, which I had made on purpose for them, that they might not
break 3 and, as between the pot and the basket there was a little room
to spare, I stuffed it full of the rice and barley straw; and these two
pots being to stand always dry, I thought would hold my dry corn, and
perhaps the meal when the corn was bruised.
Though I miscarried so much in my design for large pots, yet I
made several smaller things with better success: such as little round
pots, fiat dishes, pitchers, and pipkins, and any thing my hand turned
to; and the heat of the sun baked them strangely hard.

But all this would not answer my end, which was to get an earthen
pot to hold what was liquid, and bear the fire, which none of these
could do. It happened after some time, making a pretty large fire for
cooking my meat, when I went to put it out, after I had done with it,
I found a broken piece of one of my earthenware vessels in the fire,
burnt as hard as a stone, and red as a tile. I was agreeably surprised
to see it, and said to myself, that certainly they might be made to
burn whole, if they would burn broken.

This set me to study how to order my fire, so as to make it burn
me some pots. I had no notion of a kiln suzh as the potters burn in,
or of glazing thém with lead, though I had some lead to de it with;
136 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

but I placed three large pipkins, and two or three pots, in a pile, one
upon another, and placed my firewood all round it, with a great heap
of embers under them: I plied the fire with fresh fuel round the out
side, and upon the top, till I saw the pots in the inside red hot quite
through, and observe” that they did not crack at all: when I saw them
clear red, I let them stand in that heat about five or six hours, till I
found one of them, though it did not crack, did melt, or run; for the
sand which was mixed with the clay melted by the violence of the heat,
and would have run into glass, if I had gone on; so I slacked my fire
gradually, till the pots began to abate of the red colour; and watching
them all night that I might not let the fire abate too fast, in the morn-
ing I had three very good, I will not say handsome, pipkins, and two
other earthen pots, as hard burnt as could be desired, and one of them
perfectly glazed with the running of the sand.

After this experiment I need not say that I wanted no sort of earthen-
ware for my use; but I must needs say, as to the shapes of them, they
were very indifferent, as any one may suppose, when I had no way of
making them, but as the children make dirt pies, or as a woman would
make pies that never learned to raise paste.

No joy at a thing of so mean a nature was ever equal to mine, when
I found I had made an earthen pot that would bear the fire; and I~
had hardly patience to stay till they were cold, before I set one upon
the fire again with some water in it,.to boil me some meat, which it
did admirably well; and with a piece of kid, I made some very good
broth, though T wanted oatmeal, and several other ingredients requi-
site to make it so good as I would have had it.

My next concern was to get me a stone mortar to stamp or beat
some corn in; for as to the mill, there was no thought of arriving to
that perfection of art with one pair of hands. To supply this want, I
was at a great loss; for of all trades in the world I was as perfectly
unqualified for a stone-cutter, as for any whatever; neither had I any
tools to go about it with. Ispent many a day to find out a great stone
big enough to cut hollow, and make fit for a mortar, and could find
none at all, except what was in the solid rock, and which I had no way
to dig, or cut out; nor indeed were the rocks in the island of hardness
sufficient, but were all of a sandy crumbling stone, which would neither
bear the weight of a heavy pestle, nor would break the corn without
filling it with sand; so, after a great deal of time lost in searching for
a stone, I gave it over, and resolved to look out a great block of hard
wood, which I found indeed much easier ; and, getting one as big as I
had strength to stir, I rounded it, and formed it on the outside with
my axe and hatchet ; and then, with the help of fire and infinite labour,
‘OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. © aT



made a hollow place in it, as the Indians in Brazil make their candes.
After this, I made a great heavy pestle, or beater, of the wood called the

iron-wood, and this I prepared and laid by against I had my next crop
of corn, when I proposed to myself to grind, or rather pound, my corn,

or meal, to make my bread.

My next difficulty was to make a sieve, or searce, to dress my meal,
and part it from the bran and the husk, without which I did not see it
possible I could have any bread. This was a most difficult thing, so much
as but to think on; for to be sure I had nothing like the necessary
things to make it with,—I mean fine thin canvas, or stuff, to searce
the meal through. And here I was at a full stop for many months;
nor did I really know what to do: linen I had none left but what was
mere rags; I had goat’s hair, but neither knew I how to weave or spin
it; and had I known how, here were no tools to work it with. All the
remedy that I found for this was, that at last I did remember I had
among the seamen’s clothes which were saved out of the ship, some
neckcloths of calico, or muslin; and with some pieces of these I made
three small sieves, but proper enough for the work; and thus I made
shift for some years: how I did afterwards, I shall show in its place.

The baking part was the next thing to be considered, and how I
should make bread when I came to have corn; for, first, [had no yeast:
as to that part, there was no supplfing the want, so I did not concern
myself much about it. But for an oven, I was indeed in great pain.
At length I found out an expedient for that also, which was this: I
made some earthén vessels very broad, but not deep; that is to say,
about two feet diameter, and not above nine inches deep.; these I burnt
in the fire, as I had done the others, and laid them by; and when I
wanted to bake, 1 made a great fire upon the hearth, which I had paved
with some square tiles of my own making and burning also; but I
should not call them square.

When the firewood was burnt pretty much into embers, or live coals,
I drew them forward upon this hearth, so as to cover it all over; and
there I let them lie, till the hearth was very hot; then, sweeping away
all the embers, I set down my loaf, or loaves, and, whelming down the
earthen pot upon them, drew the embers all round the outside of the
pot, to keep in, and add to the heat: and thus, as well as in the best.
oven in the world, I baked my barley-loaves, and became in a little time
a good pastry-cook into the bargain ; for I made myself several cakes





of the rice, and puddings: indeed I made no pies, neither--had I anys.

thing to put into them, supposing I had, except the’ fete
wT goats:

It. merit not abe wondered at, if all these things teak me up x





138 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

of the third year of my abode here; for it is to be observed, that m
the intervals of these things I had my new harvest and husbandry to
manage; for I reaped my corn in its season, and carried it home as
well as I could, and laid it up in the ear, in my large baskets, till I had
time to rub it out; for I had no floor to thresh it on, or instrument to
thresh it with.

And now indeed my stock of corn increasing, I really wanted to
build my barns bigger: I wanted a place to lay it up in; for the
increase of the corn now yiclded me so much, that I had of the barley
about twenty bushels, and of the rice as much, or more; insomuch,
that I now resolved to begin to use it freely, for my bread had been
quite gone a great while; also I resolved to see what quantity would
be sufficient for me a whole year, and to sow but once a-year.

Upon the whole, I found that the forty bushels of barley and rice
were much more than I could consume in a year: so I resolved to sow
just the same quantity every year that I sowed the last, in hopes that
such a quantity would fully provide me with bread, &e.

All the while these things were doing, you may be sure my thoughts
ran many times upon the prospect of land which I had seen from the
other side of the island; and I was not without secret wishes that I
was on shore there, fancying that, seeing the main land and an inhabited
country, I might find some way or“bther to convey myself farther, and
perhaps at last find some means of escape.

But all this while I made no allowance for the dangers of such a
condition, and how I might fall into the hands of savages, and perhaps
such as I might have reason to think far worse than the lions and tigers
of Africa: that, if I once came into their power, I should runa hazard
more than a thousand to one of being killed, and perhaps of being
eaten; for I had heard that the people of the Caribbean coasts were
cannibals, or men-eaters ; and I knew by the latitude that I could not
be far off from that shore: that, suppose they were not cannibals, yet
they might kill me, as many Europeans who had fallen into their hands
had been served, even when they had been ten or twenty together ;
much more I that was but one, and could make little or no defence.
All these things, I say, which I ought to have considered well of, anJ
I did cast up in my thoughts afterwards, yet took none of my appre-
hensions at first; and my head ran mightily upon the thoughts of
getting over to that shore.

Now I wished for my boy Xury, and the long-boat with the shoulder-
of-mutton sail, with which I sailed above a thousand miles on the coast
of Africa; but this was in vain. Then I thought I would go and look
on our ship’s boat, which, as I have said, was blown up upon the shore
“fee

OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. . 139



a great way in the storm, when we were first cast away. She lay almost
where she did at first, but not quite; and was turned, by the force of
the waves and the winds, almost bottom upwards, against the high ridge
of a beachy rough sand, but no water about her as before.

If I had had hands to have refitted her, and have launched her into
the water, the boat would have done very well, and I might have gone
back into the Brazils with her easy enough ; but I might have easily
foreseen, that I could no more turn her, and set her upright upon her
bottom, than I could remove the island. However, I went to the wood,
and cut levers and rollers, and brought them to the boat, resolving to
try what I could do; suggesting to myself, that if I could but turn her
down, I might easily repair the damage she had received, and she would
be a very good boat, and I might go to sea in her very easily.

I spared no pains, indeed, in this piece of fruitless toil, and spent, I
think, three or four weeks about it; at last, finding it impossible to
heave it up with my little strength, I fell to digging away the sand to
undermine it; and so to make it fall down, setting pieces of wood to
thrust and guide it right in the fall.

But when I had done this, I was unable to stir it up again, or to get
under it, much less to move it forwards towards the water; so I was
forced to give it over: and yet, though I gave over the hopes of the
boat, my desire to venture over for the main increased, rather than
decreased, as the means for it seemed impossible.

This at length set me upon thinking whether it was not possible a to
make myself a canoe, or periagua, such as the natives of those climates
make, even without tools, or, as I might say, without hands, namely,
of the trunk of a great tree. This I not only thought possible, but
easy; and pleased myself extremely with the thoughts of making it,
and with my having much more convenience for it than any of the
Negroes or Indians; but not at all considering the particular incon-
veniences which I lay under more than the Indians did, namely, want
of hands to move it into the water, when it was made,—a difficulty
much harder for me to surmount than all the consequences of want of
tools could be to them: for what was it to me, that, when I had chosen

2 vast tree in the woods, I might with great trouble cut it down, if after
I might be able with my tools to hew and dub the outside into the
proper shape of a boat, and burn or cut out the inside to make it hollow,

go as to make a boat of it,—if, after all this, I must leave it just there

where I found it, and was not able to launch it into the water?

One would have thought, I could not have had the least reflection

upon my mind of my circumstances, while I was. making this boat, but
T should have immediately thought how I should get it-into the





140 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



but my thoughts were so intent upon my voyage over the sea in it, that
I never once considered: how I should get it off the land: and it was
really in its own nature more easy for me to guide it over forty-five
miles of sea, than about forty-five fathoms of land, where it lay, to set
it afloat in the water.

I went to work upon this boat the most like a fool that ever man did
who had any of his senses awake. I pleased myself with the design,
without determining whether I was ever able to undertake it; not but
that the difficulty of launching my boat came often into my head; but
I put a stop to my own inquirics into it by this foolish answer which I
gave myself: Let me first make it, I'l warrant I'll find some way or
other to get it along when it is done.

This was a most preposterous method ; but the eagerness of my fancy
prevailed, and to work I went, and felled a cedar tree—I question
much whether Solomon ever had sucha one for the building the temple
at Jerusalem. It was five feet ten inches diameter at the lower part
next the stump, and four feet cleven inches diameter at the end of
twenty-two feet, after which it lessened for a while, and then parted
into branches. It was not without infinite labour that I felled this
tree: I was twenty days hacking and hewing at it at the bottom; I
was fourteen more getting the branches and limbs and the vast
spreading head of it cut off, which I hacked and hewed through with
my axe and hatchet with inexpressible labour; after this it cost me a
month to shape it, and dub it toa proportion, and to something like the
bottom of a boat, that it might swim upright as it ought todo. It cost
me near three months more to clear the inside, and work it out so as
to make an exact boat of it: this I did indeed without fire, by mere
mallet and chisel, and by the dint of hard labour, till I had brought it
to be a very handsome periagua, and big enough to have carried six-
and-twenty men, and consequently big enough to have carried me and
all my cargo.

When I had gone through this work, I was extremely delighted with
it: the boat was really much bigger than I ever saw a canoe or
periagua, that was made of one tree, in my life; many a weary stroke
it had cost, you may be sure, for there remained nothing but to get it
into the water; and had I gotten it into the water, I make no question
but I should have begun the maddest voyage, and the most unlikely to
be performed, that ever was undertaken.

But all my devices to get it into the water failed me, though they
cost infinite labour too. It lay about one hundred yards from the
water, and not more; but the first inconvenience was, it was up hill
towards thecreek. Well, to take away this discouragement, I resolved


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 141
LL
to dig into the surface of the earth, and se make a declivity: this I
began, and it cost mea prodigious deal of pains; but who grudge
pains that have their deliverance in view? but when this was worked
through, and this difficulty managed, it was still much at one, for 1
could no more stir the canoe than I could the other boat.

Then I measured the distance of ground, and resolved to cut a dock,
or canal, to bring the water up to the canoe, seeing that I could not
bring the canoe down to the water; well, I began this work, and when
I began to enter into it, and calculated how deep it was to be dug, how
broad, how the stuff was to be thrown out, I found that, by the number
of hands I had, being none but my own, it must have been ten or twelve
years before I should have gone through with it; for the shore lay
high, so that at the upper end it must have been at least twenty feet deep:
so at length, though with great reluctance, I gave this attempt over also.

This grieved me heartily; and now I saw, though too late, the folly
of beginning a work before we count the cost, and before we judge
rightly of our own strength to go through with it.

In the middle of this work I finished my fourth year in this place,
and kept my anniversary with the same devotion, and with as much
comfort, as ever before ; for, by a constant study and serious applica-
tion of the word of God, and by the assistance of his grace, I gained a
different knowledge from what I had before; I entertained different
notions of things; I looked now upon the world asa thing remote,

which I had nothing to do with, no expectation from, and indeed no’

desires about: in a word, I had nothing indeed to do with it, nor was

ever like to have: so I thought it looked as we may perhaps look upon ©

it hereafter, namely, as a place I had lived in, but was come out of. it;
and well I might say, as father Abraham to Dives, “Between me and
thee there is a great gulf fixed.”

In the first place, I was removed from.all the wickedness of the
world here. I had neither the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, nor
the pride of life. I had nothing to covet, for I had all I was now
capable of enjoying: I was lord of the whole manor, or, if I pleased,
I might call myself king or emperor over the whole country which I
had possession of: there were no rivals; I had no competitor, none
to dispute sovereignty or command with me; I might have raised ship-
loadings of corn, but I had no use for it; so I let as little grow as 1
thought enough for my occasion; I had tortoises or turtles enough,
but now and then one was as much as I could put to any use; I had
timber enough to have built a fleet of ships; I had grapes enough to
bave made wine, or to have cured into raisins, to have loaded -that fleet
when they had been built.




149 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



But all I could make use of, was all that was valuable; I had
enough to eat, and to supply my wants, and what was all the rest to
me? If I killed more flesh than I could eat, the dog must eat it, or
the vermin; if I sowed more corn than I could eat, it must be spoiled.
The trees that I cut down were lying to rot on the ground, I could
make no more use of them than for fuel; and that I had no occasicz
for but to dress my food.

In a word, the nature and experience of things dictated to me, upon
just reflection, that all the good things of this world are no farther
good to us, than as they are for our use; and that, whatever we may
heap up to give to others, we only enjoy as much as we can use, and
no more. The most covetous griping miser in the world would have
been cured of the vice of covetousness, if he had been in my case; for
I possessed infinitely more than I knew what to do with. I had no
room for desire, except it was of things which I had not, and they were
but trifles, though indeed of great use tome. I had, as I hinted before,
a parcel of money, as well gold as silver, about thirty-six pounds ster-
ling: alas! there the nasty, sorry, useless stuff lay; I had no manner of
business for it; and I often thought. with myself, that I would have
given a handful of it for a gross of tobacco-pipes or for a handmill to
grind my corn; nay, I would have given it all for six-pennyworth of
turnip and carrot seed out of England, or for a handful of pease and
beans and a bottle of ink: as it was, I had not the least advantage by
it, or benefit from it; but there it lay in a drawer, and grew mouldy
with the damp of the cave, in the wet season; and if I had had the drawer
full of diamonds, it had been the same case; and they had been of no
manner of value to me, because of no use.

I had now brought my state of life to be inuch easier in itself than
it was at first, and much easier to my mind as well as to my body. I
frequently sat down to my meat with thankfulness, and admired the
hand of God’s providence, which had thus spread my table in the wil-
derness. I learned to look more upon the bright side of my condition,
and less upon the dark side; and to consider what I enjoyed, rather
than what I wanted; and this gave me sometimes such secret comforts,
that I cannot express them; and which I take notice of here, to put
those discontented people in mind of it, who cannot enjoy comfortably
what God hath given them, because they see and covet something that
he has not given them: all our discontents about what we want, ap-
peared to me to spring from the want of thankfulness for what we have.

Another reflection was of great use to me, and, doubtless, would be
so to any one that should fall into such distress as mine was; and
this was, to compare my present condition with what I at first expected
NS ae Mere See eng ee este Be tng, Ooms

OF ROBINSOR CRUSOE. 143°



it should be; nay, with what it would certainly have been, if the good
providence of God had not wonderfully ordered the ship to be cast up
near to the shore, where I not only could come at her, but could bring
what I got out of her to the shore for my relief and comfort; without
which I had wanted tools to work, weapons for defence, or gunpowder .
and shot for getting my food.

I spent whole hours, I may say whole days, in representing to myself,
in the most lively colours, how I must have acted, if I had got nothing
out of the ship; how I could not have so much as got any food, except
fish and turtles; and that, as it was long before I found any of them, 1
must have perished first—that I should have lived, if I had not perished,
like a mere savage—that if I had killed a goat or a fowl by any con-
trivance, I had no way to flay or open them, or part the flesh from the
skin and the bowels, or to cut it up; but must gnaw it with my teeth,
and pull it with my claws, like a beast.

These reflections made me very sensible of the goodness of Provi-
dence to me, and very thankful for my present condition, with all its
hardships and misfortunes; and this part also I cannot but recommend
to the reflection of those who are apt, in their misery, to say, ‘Is any
affliction like mine?’ Let them consider how much worse the cases
of some people are, and what their case might have been, if Providence
had thought fit.

T had another reflection, which assisted me also to comfort my mind
with hopes; and this was, comparing my present condition with what
I had deserved, and had therefore reason to expect, from the hand of
Providence. I had lived a dreadful life, perfectly destitute of the
knowledge and fear of God: I had been well instructed by father and
mother: neither had they been wanting to me in their early endeavours
to infuse a religious awe of God into my mind, a sense of my duty, and-
of what the nature and end of my being required of me. But, alas!
falling early into the seafaring life, which, of all lives, is the most
dekiitute of the fear of God, though his terrors are always before them,
—I say, falling early into the seafaring life, and into seafaring com-
pany, all that little sense of religion which I had entertained was
laughed out of me by my messmates—by a hardened despising of dan-
gers, and the views of death, which grew habitual to me—by my long
absence from all manner of opportunities to converse with any thing
but what was like myself, or to hear any thing of what was good, or
tended towards it.

So void was I of every thing that was good, or of the least sense ‘of
what I was, or was to be, that in the greatest deliverance I enjoyed,
auch as my escape from Sallee, my being taken up by the Portugu Q:





4

144 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



master of the ship, my being planted so well in Brazil, my receiving
the cargo from England, and the like, I never once had the words,
“Thank God!’ so much as on my mind, or in my mouth; nor, in the
greatest distress, had I so much thought as to pray to him, nor so much
as to say, “‘Lord, have mercy upon me!’’—no, not to mention the name
of God, unless it was to swear by, and blaspheme it.

I had terrible reflections upon my mind for many months, as I have
already observed, on the account of my wicked and hardened life past;
and when I looked about me, and considered what particular provi-
dences had attended me, since my coming into this place, and how God
had dealt bountifully with me—had not only punished me less than my
iniquity deserved, but had so plentifully provided for me; this gave me
great hopes that my repentance was accepted, and that God had yet
mercies in store for me.

With these reflections I worked my mind up, not only to resignation
to the will of God in the present disposition of my circumstances,
but even to a sincere thankfulness of my condition; and that I, who
was yet a living man, ought not to complain, seeing I had not the due
punishment of my sins; that I enjoyed so many mercies, which I had
no reason to have expected in that place ; that I ought never more to
repine at my condition, but to rejoice, and to give daily thanks for
that daily bread, which nothing but a cloud of wonders could have
brought ; that I ought to consider I had been fed even by a miracle,
even as great as that of feeding Elijah by ravens—nay, bya long se-
ries of miracles; and that I could hardly have named a place in the
uninhabited part of the world, where I could have been cast more to
my advantage—a place where, as I had no society, which was my af-
niction on one hand, so I found no ravenous beasts, no furious wolves
or tigers, to threaten my life; no venomous creatures or poisonous,
which I might have fed on to my hurt; no savages to murder and

devour me.

In a wofd, as my life was a life of sorrow one way, so it was a life
of mercy another; and I wanted nothing to make it a life of comfort,
but to be able to make my sense of God’s goodness to me, and care
over me in this condition, be my daily consolation; and after I made
a just improvement of these things, I went away, and was no more
sad.

I had now been here so long, that many things which I brought on
shore for my help, were either quite gone or very much wasted, and
near spent.

My ink, as J observed, had been gone for some time, all but a very
‘ittle, which I eked out with water a little and a little, till it was so




OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ; 145



pale it scarce left any appearance of black upon the paper: as long as
it lasted, I made use of it to minute down the days of the month on
which any remarkable thing happened to me; and first, by casting up
times past, I remember that there was a strange concurrence of days,
in the various providences which befell me, and which, if I had been
superstitiously inclined to observe days as fatal or fortunate, I might
have had reason to have looked upon with a great deal of curiosity.

First, I had observed, that the same day that I broke away from my
father and my friends, and ran away to Hull, in order to go to sea,
the same day afterwards I was taken by the Sallee man-of-war, and
made a slave.

The same day of the year that I escaped out of the wreck of the
ship in Yarmouth Roads, that same day of the year afterwards I made
my escape from Sallee in the boat.

The same day of the year I was born on, namely, the 20th of Sep-
tember, the same day I had my life so miraculously saved twenty-six
years after, when I was cast on shore in this island ; so that my wicked
life, and solitary life, both began on a day.

The next thing to my ink’s being wasted, was that of my bread, I
mean the biscuit which I brought out of the ship. This I had hus-
banded to the last degree, allowing myself but one cake of bread a
day, for above a year; and yet I was quite without bread for a year
before I got any corn of my own: and great reason I had to be thank-
ful that I had any at all, the getting it being, as it has been already. .
observed, next to miraculous.

My clothes, too, began to decay mightily: as to linen, I had none
a good while, except some chequered shirts which I found in the cheste
of the other seamen, and which I carefully preserved, because many
tines I could bear no other clothes on but a shirt; and it was a very



great help to me that I had, among all the men’s clothes of the ship, a

almost three dozen of shirts. There were also several thick watch-
coats of the seamen, which were left behind, but they were too hot to
wear; and though it is true that the weather was so violent hot that
there was no need of clothes, yet I could not go quite naked: no,
though I had been inclined to it, which I was not; nor could. abide,
the thought of it, though I was all alone.

One reason why I could not go quite naked was, I could not, bear





the heat of the sun so well when quite naked, as with some clothes on 2

—nay, the very heat frequently blistered my skin; whereas,,.with:}:
shirt on, the air itself made some motion, and, whistling .
shirt, was twofold cooler than without it: no more could.
myself to go out in the heat of the sun without a cap-gp

10 hi





146 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



heat of the sun beating with such violence as it does in that place,
would give me the headache presently, by darting so directly on my
head, without a cap or hat on, so that I could not bear it; whereas, if
I put on my hat, it would presently go away.

Upon these views I began to consider about putting the few rags I
had, which I called clothes, into some order; I had worn out all the
waistcoats I had, and my business was now to try if I could not make
jackets out of the great watch-coats which I had by me, and with such
other materials as I had; so I set to work a-tailoring, or rather, in-
deed, a-botching; for I made most piteous work of it. However, I
made shift to make two or three waistcoats, which I hoped would serve
me a great while; as for breeches or drawers, I made but very sorry
shift indeed till afterwards.

I have mentioned that I saved the skins of all the creatures that I
killed—I mean four-footed ones—and I had hung them up stretched
out with sticks in the sun; by which means some of them were so dry
and hard, that they were fit for little; but others, it seems, were very
useful. The first thing I made of these was a great cap for my head,
with the hair on the outside to shoot off the rain: and this I performed
so well, that after this I made a suit of clothes wholly of those skins ;
that is to say, a waistcoat and breeches open at the knees, and both
loose; for they were rather wanted to keep me cool, than to keep me
warm. I must not omit to acknowledge, that they were wretchedly
made; for if I was a bad carpenter, I was a worse tailor: however,
they were such as I made a very good shift with; and when I was
abroad, if it happened to rain, the hair of the waistcoat and cap being
outmost, I was kept very dry.

After this, I spent a deal of time and pains to make me an umbrella:
I was indeed in great want of one, and had a great mind to make one:
I had seen them made in the Brazils, where they are very useful in the
great heats which are there; and I felt the heats every jot as great
here, and greater too, being nearer the equinox; besides, as I was
obliged to be much abroad, it was a most useful thing to me, as well
for the rains as the heats. I took a world of pains at it, and was a
great while before I could make any thing likely to hold; nay, after I
thought I had hit the way, I spoiled two or three before I made one to
my mind; but at last I made one that answered indifferently well.
The main difficulty I found was to make it to let down: I could make
it to spread; but if it did not let down too, and draw in, it would not
be portable for me any way, but just over my head, which would not
do. However, at last, as I said, I made one to answer: I covered it
with skins, the hair upwards, so that it cast off the rain like a pent-
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. tay

ee ee
house, and kept off the sun so effectually that I could walk out in the
hottest of the weather, with greater advantage than I could before in
the coolest; and when I had no need of it, I could close it, and carry
it under my arm.

Thus I lived mighty comfortably, my mind being entirely composed
by resigning to the will of God, and throwing myself wholly upon the
disposal of his providence: this made my life better than sociable; for,
when I began to regret the want of conversation, I would ask myself,
whether thus conversing mutually with my own thoughts, and, as I
hope I may say, with even my Maker, by ejaculations and petitions,
was not better than the utmost enjoyment of human society in the
world ?

I cannot say, that, after this, for five years, any extraordinary thing
happened to me; but I lived on in the same course, in the same pos-
ture and place, just as before. The chief thing I was employed in,
besides my yearly labour of planting my barley and rice, and curing
my raisins, of both which I always kept up just enough to have a suf-
ficient stock of the year’s provisions beforehand,—lI say, besides this
yearly labour, and my daily labour of going out with my gun, I had
one labour to make me a canoe, which at last I finished: so that by
digging a canal to it, six feet wide, and four feet deep, I brought it
into the creek, almost half a mile. As for the first, that was so vastly:
big, as I made it without considering beforehand, as I ought to do, .
how I should be able to launch it; so, never being able to bring it to
the water, or bring the water to it, I was obliged to let it lie where it.
was, a8 a memorandum to teach me to be wiser next time. Indeed,
the next time, though I could not get a tree proper for it, and was in
a place where I could not get the water to it, at any less distance than,
as I have said, of near half a mile; yet, as I saw it was practicable .
at last, I never gave it over; and though I was near two years about

it, yet I never grudged my lahour, in hopes of having a boat to go off.

to sea at last.
af


148 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

CHAPTER X.

1 succeed in getting a Canoe afloat, and set out on a Voyage in the sixth Year of my
Reign, or Captivity—-Blown out to Sea—Reach the Shore with great difficulty—
Fall asleep, and am awakened by a Voice calling my Name—Devise various schemes
to tame Goats, and at last succeed.

However, though my little periagua was finished, yet the size of it
‘was not at all answerable to the design which I had in view, when I
made the first,—I mean of venturing over to the terra firma, where
it was above forty miles broad; accordingly, the smallness of my boat
assisted to put an end to that design, and now I thought no more
of it. But as I had a boat, my next design was to make a tour
round the island; for, as I had been on the other side, in one place,
crossing, a8 I have already described it, over the land, so the dis-
coveries I made in that journey made me very eager to see the other
parts of the coast; and now I had a boat, I thought of nothing but
sailing round the island. :

For this purpose, and that I might do every thing with discretion
and consideration, I fitted up a little mast to my boat, and made a sail
to it out of some of the pieces of the ship’s sails, which lay in store,
and of which I had a great store by me.

Having fitted my mast and sail, and tried the boat, I found she
would sail very well. Then I made little lockers and boxes at each
end of my boat, to put provisions, necessaries, and ammunition, &c.
into, to be kept dry, either from rain, or the spray of the sea; and a
little long hollow place I cut in the inside of the boat, where I could
lay my gun, making a flap to hang down over it to keep it dry.

I fixed my umbrella also in a step at the stern, like a mast, to stand
over my head, and keep the heat of the sun off me, like an awning;
and thus I every now and then tgok a little voyage upon the sea, but
never went far out, nor far from the little creek; but at last, being
" eager to view the circumference of my little kingdom, I resolved upon
my tour, and accordingly I victualled my ship for the voyage; putting
in two dozen of my loaves (cakes I should rather call them) of barley-
bread, an earthen pot full of parched rice (a food I ate a great deal
of), a little bottle of rum, half a goat, and powder and shot for killing
more, and two large watch-coats, of those which, as I mentioned before,

‘


UF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ; 149



f had saved out of the seamen’s chests: these I took, one to lie upon,
and the other to cover me in the night.

It was the 6th of November, in the sixth year of my reign, or my -
captivity, which you please, that I set out on this voyage, and I found
it much longer than I expected; for though the island itself was not
very large, yet when I came to the east side of it, I found a great
ledge of rocks lie out about two leagues into the sea, some above water,
some under it; and beyond this a shoal of sand, lying dry half a
league more; so that I was obliged to go a great way out to sea to.
double that point.

When I first discovered them, I was going to give over my enter-
prise, and come back again, not knowing how far it might oblige me
to go out to sea, and, above all, doubting how I should get back again:
so I came to an anchor, for I had made me a kind of an anchor with a
piece of broken grappling which I got out of the ship.

Maving secured my boat, I took my gun, and went on shore, climb-
ing up a hill, which seemed to overlook that point, where I saw the
full extent of it, and resolved to venture.

In my viewing the sea from that hill where I stood, I perceived a
strong, and indeed a most furious current, which ran to the east, even
came close to the point; and I took the more notice of it, because I
saw there might be some danger, that when I came into it, I might be
carried out to sea by the strength of it, and not be able to make the
island again. And indeed, had I not gotten first upon this hill, I
believe it would have been so; for there was the same current on the
other side of the island, only that it set off at a farther distance; and
I saw there was a strong eddy under the shore: so I had nothing -to.’
do but to get out of the first current, and I should presently be in am
eddy. t

I lay here, however, two days; because the wind blowing pretty
fresh (at east-south-east, and that being just contrary to the said cur-
rent), made a great breach of the sea upon the point; so that it was
not safe for me to keep too close to the shore for the breach, nor to go
ton far off because of the stream.

The third day in the morning, the wind having abated overnight,
the sea was calm, and I ventured: but I am a warning-piece again to
all rash and ignorant pilots; for no sooner was I come to the point,
when I was not my boat’s length from the shore, but I found myself in
® great depth of water, and a current like a sluice of a mill. It carried
my boat along with it with such a violence, that all I could do'could: .
not keep her so much as on the-edge of it: but I found it hagried ie:
farther and farther out from the eddy, which was on .









150 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



There was no wind stirring to help me, and all that I could do with
my paddles signified nothing; and now I began to give myself over for
lost ; for, as the current was on both sides of the island, I knew in a
few leagues’ distance they thust join again, and then I was irrecover-
ably gone: nor did I see any possibility of avoiding it; so that I had
no prospect before me but of perishing; not by the sea, for that was
calm enough, but of starving for hunger. I had indeed found a tor-
toise on the shore, as big almost as I could lift, and had tossed it into
the boat; and I had a great jar of fresh water, that is to say, one of
my earthen pots; but what was all this to being driven into the vast
ocean, where, to be sure, there was no shore, no main land or island,
for a thousand leagues at least ?

And now I saw how easy it was for the providence of God to make
the most miserable condition that mankind could be in worse. Now,
I looked back upon my desolate solitary island as the most pleasant
place in the world, and all the happiness my heart could wish for, was
to be there again: I stretched out my hands to it with eager wishes;
“‘Oh, happy desert!” said I, “TI shall never see thee more! Oh,
miserable creature!” said I, “whither am I going?”—Then I re-
proached myself with my unthankful temper, and how I had repined
at my solitary condition; and now, what would I give to be on shore
there again? Thus we never see the true state of our condition, till
it is illustrated to us by its contraries; nor know how to value what
we enjoy, but by the want of it. It is scarce possible to imagine the
consternation I was in, being driven from my beloved island (for so it
appeared to me now to be) into the wide ocean, almost two leagues,
and in the utmost despair of ever recovering it again: however, I
worked hard, till indeed my strength was almost exhausted; and kept
my boat as much to the northward, that is, towards the side of the
current which the eddy lay on, as possibly I could; when about noon,
as the sun passed the meridian, I thought I felt a little breeze of wind
in my face, springing up from the south-south-east. This cheered my
heart a little, and especially wlien, in about half an hour more, it blew
a pretty small gentle gale. By this time I was gotten at a frightful
distance from the island; and, had the least cloud or hazy weather
intervened, I had been undone another way too; for I had no compass
on board, and should never have known how to have steered towards
the island, if I had but once lost sight of it; but the weather continu-
ing clear, I applied myself to get up my mast again, and spread my
sail, standing away to the north as much as possible, to get out of the
‘current.

Just as I had set my mast and sail, and the boat began to stretch
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ‘151



away, I saw, even by the clearness of the water, some alteration of the

current was near; for where the current was so strong, the water was.

foul: but perceiving the water clear, I found the current abate, and
presently I found, to the east, at about half a mile, a breach of the
sea upon some rocks: these rocks I found caused the current to part
again; and as the main stress of it ran away more southerly, leaving
the rocks to the north-east, so the other returned by the repulse of the
rock, and made a strong eddy, which ran back again to the north-west
with # very sharp stream.

They who know what it is to have a reprieve brought to them upon
the ladder, or to be rescued from thieves just going to murder them,
or who have been in such like extremities, may guess what my present
surprise of joy was, arid how gladly I put my boat into the stream of
this eddy; and the wind also freshening, how gladly I spread my sail
to it, running cheerfully before the wind, and with a strong tide or
eddy under foot.

This eddy carried me about a league in my way back again directly
towards the island, but about two leagues more towards the northward
than the current lay, which carried me away at first; so that when I
came near the island, I found myself open to the northern shore of it,
that is to say, the other end of the island, opposite to that which I
went out from.

When I had made something more than a league of way, by oe

of this heavy current or eddy, I found it was spent, and served me no

farther. However, I found, that being between the two great currents,

?
namely, that on the south side which had hurried me away, and that on

the north, which lay about two leagues on the other. side,—I say, .

between these two, in the west of the island, I found the water at
least still, and running no way; and having still a bréeze of wind fair
for me, I kept on steering directly for the island, though not making
such fresh way as I did before.

About four o’clock in the evening, being then within about a league
of the island, I found the point of the rocks which occasioned this dis-
tance stretching out, as is described before, to the southward, and,
casting off the current more southwardly, had, of course, madc
another eddy to the north; and this I found very strong, but not
directly setting the way my course lay, which was due west, but alnost
full north. Howarer, having a fresh gale, I stretched across this
eddy, slanting north-west, and, in about an hour, came within about a
mile of the shore, where, it being smooth water, I soon got to land.

When I was on shore, I fell on my knees, and gave God thanks fox.
uv deliverance, resolving to lay aside all thoughts of my deliveranc










152 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



by my boat; and refreshing myself with such things as I had, 1]
brought my boat close to the shore, in a little cove that I had espied
under some trees, and laid me down to sleep, being quite spent with
the labour and fatigue of the voyage.

I was now at a great loss which way to get home with my boat; 1
had run so much hazard, and knew too much the cause, to think of
attempting it by the way I went out; and what might be at the other
side (I mean the west side), I knew not, nor had I any mind to run
any more ventures; so I only resolved in the morning to make my
way westward along the shore, and to see if there was no creek where
I might lay up my frigate in safety, so as to have her again if I wanted
her. In about three miles, or thereabouts, coasting the shore, I came
to a very good inlet, or bay, about a mile over, which narrowed till it
came to a very little rivulet, or brook, where I found a convenient
harbour for my boat, and where she lay as if she had been in a little
dock made on purpose for her: here I put in, and having stowed ny
boat very safe, I went on shore to look about me, and see where I was.

I soon found I had but a little passed by the place where I had been
before when I travelled on foot to that shore; so, taking nothing out
of my boat but my gun and my umbrella, for it was exceeding hot, I
began my march. The way was comfortable enough after such a voy-
age as I had been upon, and I reached my old bower in the evening,
where I found every thing standing as I left it; for I always kept it
in good order, being, as I said before, my country house.

I got over the fence, and laid me down in the shade to rest my
limbs, for I was very weary, and fell asleep; but judge if you can, you
that read my story, what a surprise I must be in, when I was awaked
out of my sleep by a voice calling me by my name several times,
“Robin, Robin, Robin Crusoe, poor Robin Crusoe! Where are you,
Robin Crusoe? Where are you? Where have you been?”

I was so dead asleep at first, being fatigued with rowing, or paddling,
as it is called, the first part of the day, and walking the latter part,
that I did not awake thoroughly; and dozing between sleeping and
waking, thought I dreamed that somebody spoke to me; but as the
voice continued to repeat, “Robin Crusoe, Robin Crusoe!” at last I
began to awake more perfectly, and was at first dreadfully frighted,
and started up in the utmost consternation: but no sooner were my
eyes open, but I saw my Poll sitting on the top of the hedge, and
immediately knew that this was he that spoke to me; for just in such
bemoaning language ] had used to talk to him, and teach him; and
he had learned it so perfectly, that he would sit upon my finger, and
{ay his bill close to my face, and ery, ‘“ Poor Robin Crusoe, where are
ti

Iie
a ef




1d4 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



you? Where have you been? How came you here?” and such things
as I had taught him.

However, even though I knew it was the parrot, and that indeed it
could be-nobody else, it was a good while before I could compose myself.
First, I was amazed how the creature got thither, and then how he
should just keep about the place, and nowhere else: but as I was well
satisfied it could be nobody but honest Poll, I got it over; and, hold-
ing out my hand, and calling him by his name, “Poll!” the sociable
creature came to me, and sat upon my thumb, as he used to do, and
continued talking to me,—‘‘ Poor Robin Crusoe!” and, “How did I
come here?” and “‘ Where had I been?” just as if he had been over-
joyed to see me again; and so I carried him home along with me.

I had now had enough of rambling to sea for some time, and had
enough to do for many days to sit still and reflect upon the danger I
had been in. I would have been very glad to have had my boat again
on my side of the island, but I knew not how it was practicable to get
it about: as to the east side of the island, which I had gone round, I
knew well enough there was no venturing that way: my very heart
would shrink, and my very blood run chill, but to think of it: and as
to the other side of the island, I did not know how it might be there;
but supposing the current ran with the same force against the shore at
the east, as it passed by it on the other, I might run the same risk of
being driven down the stream, and carried by the island, as I had
been before of being carried away from it. So with these thoughts I
contented myself to be without any boat, though it had been the pro-
duct of so many months’ labour to make it, and of so many more to
get it into the sea.

In this government of my temper I remained near a year,—lived a
very sedate retired life, as you may well suppose; and my thoughts
being very much composed, as to my condition, and fully comforted in
resigning myself to the dispositions of Providence, I thought I lived
really very happily in all things, except that of society.

I improved myself in this time in all the mechanic exercises which
my necessities put me upon applying myself to; and I believe could,
upon occasion, have made a very good carpenter, especially consider-
ing how few tools I had.

Besides this, I arrived at an unexpected perfection in my earthen-
ware, and contrived well enough to make them with a wheel, which I
found infinitely easier and better; because I made things round and
shapeable, which before were filthy things indeed to look on. But I
think I never was more vain of my own performance, or more joyful #
for any thing I found out, than for my being able to make a tobaccu-
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. Jab

‘pipe; and though it was a very ugly clumsy thing when it was done,
and only burnt red like other earthenware, yet as it was hard and firm,
and would draw the smoke, I was exceedingly comforted with it; for
I had been always used to smoke, and there were pipes in the ship, but
I forgot them at first, not knowing there was tobacco in the island ;
and afterwards, when I searched the ship again, I could not come at
any pipes at all.

In my wicker-ware I also improved much, and made abundance of
necessary baskets, as well as my invention showed me, though not very
handsome, yet convenient for my laying things up in, or fetching
things home in. For example, if I killed a goat abroad, I could hang
it up in a tree, flay it, and dress it, and cut it in pieces, and bring it
home in a basket: and the like by a turtle; I could cut it up, take
out the eggs, and a piece or two of the flesh, which was enough for ‘me,
and bring them home in a basket, and leave the rest behind me. Also
large deep baskets were my receivers for my corn, which I always
rubbed out as soon as it was dry, and cured, and kept it in great baskets
instead of a granary.

I began now to perceive my powder abated considerably; and this
‘was a want which it was impossible for me to supply, and I began
seriously to consider what I must do when I should have no more
powder ; that is to say, how I should do to kill any goats. TI had, as I
observed, in the third year of my being here, kept a young kid, and
bred her tame; I was in hopes of getting a he-kid, but I could not by
any means bring it to pass, till my kid grew an old goat; and I could
never find in my heart to kill her, till she died at last of mere age.

But being now in the eleventh year of my residence, and, as T have
said, my ammunition growing low, I set myself to study some art to
trap and snare the goats, to see whether I could not catch some of
them alive; and particularly I wanted a she-goat great with young.

To this purpose I made snares to hamper them, and believe they
‘were more than once taken in them: but my tackle was not good, for
I had no wire, and always found them broken, and my bait devoured.

At length I resolved to try a pitfall; so I dug several large pits in
the earth, in places where I had observed the goats used to feed, and
over these pits I placed hurdles, of my own making too, with a great
weight upon them; and several times I put ears of barley,iand dry

rice, without setting the trap; and I could easily perceive that the»;

goats had gone in, and eaten up the corn, for I could see tl yrifark of
their feet: at length, I set three traps in one night, and ‘g ng the
‘next morning, I found them all standing, and’ yet the bait eaten
gone. This was very discouraging; however, I altered my trap; cand,




156 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

not to trouble you with particulars, going one morning to see my traps,
I found in one of them a large old he-goat; and in one of the other,
three kids, a male and two females.

As to the old one, I knew not what to do with him; he was so fierce,
I durst not go into the pit to him; that is to say, to go about to bring
him away alive, which was what I wanted. I could have killed him,
but that was not my business, nor would it answer my end; so I even
let him out, and he ran away as if he had been frightened out of his.
wits; but I did not then know what I afterwards learned, that hunger
would tame a lion: if I had let him stay there three or four days with-
out food, and then have carried him some water to drink, and then a
little corn, he would have been as tame as one of the kids; for they
are mighty sagacious tractable creatures, where they are well used.

However, for the present I let him go, knowing no better at that
time: then I went to the three kids; and, taking them one by one, I
tied them with strings together; and with some difficulty brought them
all home. ,

It was a good while before they would feed; but throwing them some:
sweet corn, it tempted them, and they began to be tame: and now I
found that if I expected to supply myself with goat’s flesh, when I had.
no powder or shot left, breeding some up tame was my only way, when
perhaps I might have them about my house like a flock of sheep.

But then it presently occurred to me, that I must keep the tame
from the wild, or else they would always run wild when they grew up ;
and the only way for this was to have some enclosed piece of ground,
well fenced, either with hedge or pale, to keep them in so effectually,
that those within might not break out, or those without break in.

This was a great undertaking for one pair of hands; yet as I saw
there was an absolute necessity for doing it, my first piece of work was
to find out ‘a proper piece of ground; namely, where there was likely
to be herbage for them to eat, water for them to drink, and cover to.
keep them from the sun.

Those who understand such enclosures, will think I had very little
contrivance, when I pitched upon a place very proper for all these
(being a plain open piece of meadowland, or savanna, as our people
call it in the western colonies), which had two or three little drills of
fresh water in it; and at one end was very woody,—TI say they will
smile at my forecast, when I shall tell them I began by enclosing of
this piece of ground in such a manner, that my hedge or pale must.
have been at least two miles about: nor was the madness of it so great

as to the compass; for if it was ten miles about, I was like to have
" time en-ugh to do it in; but F did not consider, that my goats would
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 157

SS Se ee eee

the as wild in so much compass, as if they had had the whole isiana :
and I should have so much room to chase them in, that I should never
catch them.

My hedge was begun and carried on, I believe, about fifty yards,
when this thought occurred to me; so I presently stopped short, and
for the first beginning I resolved to enclose a piece of about one
hundred and fifty yards in length, and a hundred yards in breadth,
which, as it would maintain as many as I should have in any reasonable
time, so, as my flock increased, I could add more ground to my enclo-
sure.

This was acting with some prudence, and I went to work with courage.
‘{ was about three months hedging in the first piece; and, till I had
Jone it, I tethered the three kids in the best part of it, and used them
to feed as near me as possible, to make them familiar ;.and very often
I would go and carry them some ears of barley, or a handful of rice,
and feed them out of my hand; so that after my enclosure was finished,
and I let them loose, they would follow me up and down, Plesting
after me for a handful of corn.

This answered my end, and in about a year and a half I had a flock
of about twelve goats, kids and all; and, in two years more, I had.
three-and-forty, besides several that I took and killed for my food;
cand after that I enclosed five several pieces. of ground '6 feed them in,
‘with little pens to drive them into, to take them as I wanted them, an
gates out.of one piece of ground into another.






But this was not all; for nowI not only had goat’s flesh +t ta feed 0 on. =
-when I pleased, but milk too, a thing.which indeed in my beginning TF...‘
.did not so much as think of, and which, when it came into my thoughts,

was really an agreeable surprise; for now I set up “my dairy, and: had
‘sometimes a gallon or two of milk in-aday. And as nature, who gives
‘supplies of food to every creature, dictates.even naturally how to make. ..
use of it, so I, that. never milked a cow, much less a. goat, or saw .

butter or cheese made, very readily and hanidily, though after::a great.

many essays and miscarriages, made me both. butter mn cheese at last,
and never wanted it afterwards. : eee

How mercifully can our great Creator treat his creatures, evel
those conditions in which they seem to be overwhelmed in destruct
How can he sweeten the bitterest providences, and give us cause'"to
praise him for dungeons and prisons! What a table was here spread
‘for me in a’ ‘wilderness, where I saw nothing at first but to perish foi.
‘hunger !

Tt would have made a stoic smile to have seen me,and my little
family sit down to dinner: there was my majesty, the prince. and .








LEER

CRUSOE AT DINNER.



Lyin YAM
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 159



. the whole island; I had the lives of all my subjects at absolute ~

command; I could hang, draw, give life and Ifberty, and take it away,
and no rebels among all my subjects.

Then to see how like a king I dined too, all alone, attended by my
servants! Poll, as if he had been my favourite, was the only person
permitted to talk to me; my dog, which was now grown very old and
crazy, and found no species to multiply his kind upon, sat always at
my right hand; and two cats, one on one side the table, and one on the

other, expecting now and then a bit from my hand, as a mark of special

favour.

But these were not the two cats which I brought on shore at first;
for they were both of them dead, and had been interred near my habi-
tation by my own hands; but one of them having multiplied by I know
not what kind of creature, these were two which I preserved tame,
whereas the rest ran wild into the woods, and became indeed trouble-
some to me at last; for they would often come into my house, and
plunder me too, till at last I was obliged to shoot them, and did kill a
great many: at length they left me. With this attendance, and in this
plentiful manner, I lived; neither could I be said to want any thing
but society, and of that, in some time after this, I was like to have too
much.

CHAPTER XI.

Description of my Figure—Also of my Dwelling and Enclosures—Dreadful alarm on
seeing the Print of a Man’s Foot on the Shore—Reflections—Take every possible
measure of precaution.

Iwas something impatient, as I had observed, to have the use of my
boat, though very loath to run any more hazard; and therefore some-
times J sat contriving ways to get her about the island, and at other

times I sat myself down contented enough without her. But I had a -

strange uneasiness in my mind to go down to the point of the island,
where, as I have said in my last ramble, I went up the hill to see how
the shore lay, and how the current set, that I might see what I had to
_ do. This inclination increased upon me every day, and at length I
resolved to travel thither by land, and following the edge of the shore,

T did so: but had any one in England been to meet such a man as I

was, it must either have frighted him, or raised a great deal of laughte
and as I frequently stood still to look at myself, I could not but smi

RE a,







—

160 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



at the notion of my travelling through Yorkshire with such an equipage
and in such a dress. Be pleased to take a sketch of my figure as
follows :— ;

“Thad a great high shapeless cap, made of goat’s skin, with a flap
hanging down behind, as well to keep the sun from me, as to shoot the
rain off from running into my neck; nothing being so hurtful in these
climates as the rain upon the flesh under the clothes.

I had a short jacket of goat’s skin, the skirts coming dowf® to about
-he middle of my thighs; and a pair of opened-kneed breeches of the
same: the breeches were made of the skin of an old he-goat, whose
hair hung down such a length on either side, that, like pantaloons, it
reached to the middle of my legs. Stockings and shoes I had none;
but I had made me a pair of something, I scarce knew what to call
them, like buskins, to flap over my legs, and lace on either side like
spatterdashes, but of a most barbarous shape, as indeed were all the
rest of my clothes.

I had on a broad belt of goat’s skin dried, which I drew together
with two thongs of the same, instead of buckles; and in a kind of a
frog on either side of this, instead of a sword and dagger, hung a little
saw and a hatchet; one on one side, one on the other; I had another
belt not so broad, and fastened in the same manner, which hung over
my shoulder; and at the end of it, under my left arm, hung two
pouches, both made of goat’s skin too; in one of which hung my
powder, in the other my shot: at my back I carried my basket, on my
shoulder my gun, and over my head a great clumsy ugly goat’s skin
umbrella; but which, after all, was the most necessary thing I had
about me, next tomy gun. As for my face, the colour of it was really
not so mulatto-like as one might expect froma man not at all careful of
it, and living within nine or ten degrees of the equinox. My beard I
had once suffered to grow till it was about a quarter of a yard long;
but as I had both scissors and razors sufficient, I had cut it pretty
short, except what grew on my upper lip, which I had trimmed into a
large pair of Mohammedan whiskers, such as I had seen worn by some
Turks whom I saw at Sallee; for the Moors did not wear such, though
the Turks did: of these mustachios, or whiskers, I will not say
they were long enough to hang my hat upon them; but they were of
length and shape monstrous enough, and such as in England would
have passed for frightful.

But all this is by the by ;- for as to my figure, I had so few to observe
me, that it was of no manner of consequence; so I say no more to that
part. In this kind of figure I went my new journey, and was out five



_ or six days. I travelled first along the sea-shore directly to the place
e
#5



OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. k 16h



where I first brought my boat to an anchor, to get upon the rocks; and,
having no boat now to take care of, I went over the land a nearer way,
to the same height that I was upon before; when looking forward to
the point of the rock which lay out, and which I was to double with my
boat, as I said above, I was surprised to see the sea all smooth and
quiet; no rippling, no motion, no current, any more there than in other
places.

I was at a strange loss to understand this, and resolved to spend
some time in the observing of it, to see if nothing from the sets of the
tide had occasioned it: but I was presently convinced how it was;
namely, that the tide of ebb setting from the west, and joining with
the current of waters from some great river on,the shore, must be the
oceasion of this current, and that according as the wind blew more
forcible from the west, or from the north, this current came near, or
went farther from the shore; for, waiting thereabouts till evening, I
went up to the rock again, and then, the tide of ebb being made, I
plainly saw the ‘current again as before, only that it ran farther
off, being near half a league from the shore; whereas, in my case, it
set close upon the shore, and hurried me in my canoe along with it,
which at another time it would not have done. 7

This observation convinced me that I had nothing to do but to &
observé the ebbing and the flowing of the tide, and I might very easily
bring my boat about the island again: but when I began to think of
putting it into practice, I had such a terror upon my spirits at the
remembrance of the danger I had been in, that I could not think of it
again with any patience; but, on the contrary, I took up another
resolution, which was more safe, though more laborious; and this was,
that Iwould build, or rather make me another periagau, or canoe; and
so have one for one side of the island, and one for the other.

You are to understand, that now I had, as I may call it, two planta~
tions in the island; one, my little fortification or tent, with the wall
about it under the rock, with the cave behind me, which by this time
Thad enlarged into several apartments or caves, one within another.
One of these, which was the driest and largest, and had a door out _
beyond my wall or fortification, that is to say, beyond where my wall
joined to the rock, was-all filled up with large earthen pots, of which I
huve given an account, and with fourteen or fifteen great baskets, ‘which
would hold five or six bushels each, where I laid up my stores of pros
vision, especially my corn, some in the ear cut off short from the stra
and the other rubbed out with my hands.

As for my wall, made as before with long stakes or piles,-th

grew all like trees, and were by this time grown so big, and
il





162 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



very much, that there was not the least appearance, to any one’s view,
of any habitation behind them.

Near this dwelling of mine, but a little farther within the land, and
upon lower ground, lay my two pieces of corn ground, which I kept
duly cultivated and sowed, and which duly yielded me their harvest in
its season: and whenever I had occasion for more corn, I had more
land adjoining, as fit as that.

Besides this, I had my country seat, and I had now a tolerable
plantation therealso; for first, I had my little bower, as I called it,

® which I kept in repair; that is to say, I kept the hedge which circled
it in, constantly fitted up to its usual height, the ladder standing always
in the inside ; I kept the trees, which at first were no more than stakes,
but were now grown very firm and tall,—I kept them always so cut,
that they might spread and grow thick and wild, and make the more
agreeable shade, which they did effectually to my mind. In the middle
of this I had my tent always standing, being a piece of a sail spread over
poles set up for that purpose, and which never wanted any repair or
renewing ; and under this I had made me a squab, or couch, with the
skins of the creatures I had killed, and with other soft things, and a
blanket laid on them, such as belonged to our sea-bedding, which I had
saved, and a great watch-coat to cover me; and here, whenever I had
occasion to be absent from my chief seat, I took up my country habi-
tation. :

Adjoining to this, I had my enclosures for my cattle, that is to say,
my goats: and as I had taken an inconceivable deal of pains to fence
and enclose this ground, I was so uneasy to see it kept entire, lest the
goats should break through, that I never left it off, till, with infinite
labour, -yhad stuck the outside of the hedge so full of small stakes, and
so near to one another, that it was rather a pale than a hedge,
and there was scarce room to put a hand through between them,
which afterwards, when those stakes grew, as they all did in the next
rainy season, made the enclosure strong, like a wall; indeed stronger
than any wall.

This will testify for me that I was not idle, and that I spared no
pains to bring to pass whatever appeared necessary for my comfortable
support; for I considered the keeping up a breed of tame creatures
thus at my hand, would be a living magazine of flesh, milk, butter, and
cheese, for me, as long as I lived in the place, if it were to be forty
ears; and that keeping them in my reach depended entirely upon my
‘perfecting my enclosures to suck. a degree, that I might be sure
ef keeping them together; which by this method, indeed, I so
effectually. secured, that when these little stakes began to grow, I









ee,
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 163



had planted them so very thick, I was forced to pull some of them up
again.

In this place also I had my grapes growing, which I principally
depended on for my winter store of raisins, and which I never failed to
preserve very carefully, as the best and most agreeable dainty of my
whole diet; and indeed they were not agreeable only, but physical,
wholesome, nourishing, and refreshing to the last degree.

As this was also about half way between my other habitation and
the place where I had laid up my boat, I generally stayed and lay here
in my way thither; for I used frequently to visit my boat, and I kept
all things about or belonging to her in very good order. Sometimes I
went out in her to divert myself; but no more hazardous voyages
would I go, nor scarce ever above a stone’s cast or two from the shore,
I was so apprehensive of being hurried out of my knowledge again by
the currents, or winds, or any other accident. But now I come to a
new scene of my life.

It happened one day about noon, going towards my boat, I was
exceedingly surprised with the print of a man’s naked foot on the
shore, which was very plain to be seen in the sand: I stvod like one
thunderstruck, or as if I had seen an apparition; I listened, I looked
round me, I could hear nothing, nor see anything; I went up to a
rising ground to look farther; I went up the shore and down the shore,
but it was all one, I could see no other impression but that one; I
went to it again to see if there were any more, and to observe if it
might not be my fancy; but there was no room for that, for there was
exactly the very print of a foot, toes, heel, and every part of a foot;
how came it thither I knew not, nor could in the least imagine. But
after innumerable fluttering thoughts, like a man perfectly confused,
and out of myself, I came home to my fortification, not feeling, as we
say, the ground I went on, but terrified to the last degree, looking
behind me at every two or three steps, mistaking every bush and tree,
and fancying every stump at a distance to be a man; nor is it possible
to describe how many various shapes an affrighted imagination repre-
sented things to me in; how many wild ideas were formed every mo-
ment in my fancy, and what strange unaccountable whimsies came into
wy thoughts by the way.

When I came to my castle, for so I think I called it ever after this,
T fled into it like one pursued ; whether I went over by the ladder, at
first contrived, or went in at the hole in the rock, which I called a doo
I cannot remember ; for never frighted hare fled to cover, or fox to es
with more terror of mind than I to this retreat.

I had no sleep that night: the farther I was from the oe








































































































































































UF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 165

Se

my fright, the greater my apprehensions were; which is something
contrary to the nature of such things, and especially to the usual prac-
tice of all creatures in fear. But I was so embarrassed with my own
frightful ideas of the thing, that I formed nothing but dismal imagina-
tions to myself, even though I was now a great way off it. Sometimes —
I fancied it must be the devil; and reason joined in with me upon this
supposition. For how should any other thing in human shape comu
into the place? Where was the vessel that brought them? What
marks were there of any other footsteps? And how was it possible a
man should come there? But then to think that Satan should take
human shape upon him in such a place, where there could be no man-
ner of occasion for it, but to leave the print of his foot behind him,
and that even for no purpose too, (for he could not be sure I should
see it), this was an amazement the other way: I considered that the
devil might have found out abundance of other ways to have terrified
me, than this of the single print of a foot; that, as I lived quite on the
other side of the island, he would never have been so simple to leave a
mark in a place where it was ten thousand to one whether I should
ever see it or not, and in the sand too, which the first surge of the sea
upon a high wind would have defaced entirely. All this seemed
inconsistent with the thing itself, and with all notions we usually enter—
tain of the subtlety of the devil.

Abundance of such things as these assisted to argue me out of all
apprehensions of its being the devil. And I presently concluded that
it must be some more dangerous creature; namely, that it must be
some of the savages of the mainland over against me, who had wan-
dered out to the sea in their canoes, and, either driven by the currents,
or by contrary winds, had made the island, and had‘been‘on shore, but
were gone away again to sea, being as loath, perhaps, to have stayed
in this desolate island, as I would have been to have had-them.

While these reflections were rolling upon my mind, I was very
thankful in my thought, that I was so happy as not to be thereabouts
‘at that time, or that they did not see my boat, by which they would



have concluded, that some inhabitants had been in the place, and per- . ©

haps have searched farther for me. Then terrible thoughts racked my
imagination, about their having found my boat, and that there were
people here; and that if so, I should certainly have them come again
in greater numbers, and devour me; that if it should happen so that
they should not find me, yet they would find my enclosure, destroy al
my corn, carry away all my flock of tame gcats, and I peeutd perish
at last for mere want.

Thus my fe fear banished all my religious hope; all pes fosdhes









166 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

dence in God, which was founded upon such wonderful experience as [
had had of his goodness, now vanished ; as if He that had fed me by
miracle hitherto, could not preserve by his power the provision which
he had made for me by his goodness. I reproached myself with my
laziness, that I would not sow any more corn one year than would just
serve me till the next season, as if no accident could intervene to pre-
vent my enjoying the crop that was upon the ground. And this I
thought so just a reproof, that I resolved for the future to have two or
three years’ corn beforehand, so that, whatever might come, I might
not perish for want of bread.

How strange a chequer-work of Providence is the life of man! And
by what secret differing springs are the affections hurried about, as
differing circumstances present! To-day we love, what to-morrow we
hate; to-day we seek, what to-morrow we shun; to-day we desire, what
to-morrow we fear—nay, even tremble at the apprehensions of. This
was exemplified in me at this time in the most lively manner imagina-
ble; for I, whose only affliction was, that I seemed banished from
human society, that I was alone, circumscribed by the boundless ocean,
cut off from mankind, and condemned to what I called a silent life; that
I was as one whom Heaven thought not worthy to be numbered among
the living, or to appear among the rest of his creatures; that to have
seen one of my own species would have seemed to me a raising me
from death to life, and the greatest blessing that Heaven itself, next
to the supreme blessing of salvation, could bestow; I say, that I should
now tremble at the very apprehensions of seeing a man, and was ready
to sink into the ground at but the shadow, or silent appearance, of a
man’s having set his foot on the island.

Such is the uneven state of human life; and it afforded me a great
many curious speculations afterwards, when I had a little recovered my
first surprise: I considered that this was the station of life the infinitely.
wise and good providence of God had determined for me; that as I
could not foresee what the ends of divine wisdom might be in all this,
so I was not to dispute his sovereignty, who, as I was his creature, had.
an undoubted right by creation to govern and dispose of me absolutely
as he thought fit; and who, as I was a creature who had offended him,
had likewise a judicial right to condemn me to what punishment he
thought fit; and that it was my part to submit to bear his indignation,
because I had sinned against him.

4: I thenreflected, that God, who was not only righteous, but omnipotent,

“as he had thought fit thus to punish and afflict me, so he was able to

deliver me; that if he did not think fit todo it, it was my unquestioned
duty *~ resign myself absolutely and entirely to his will; and, on the

ae, Me,


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ‘167



other hand, it was my duty also to hope in him, pray to him, and
quietly to attend the dictates and directions of his daily providence.

These thoughts took me up many hours, days—nay, I may say, weeks
and months; and one paiticular effect of my cogitations on this oc-
casion I cannot omit; namely, one morning early, lying in my bed,
and filled with thoughts about my danger from the appearance of
savages, I found it discomposed me very much ; upon which those words
of the Scripture came into my thoughts, ‘Call upon me in the day of
trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.”

Upon this, rising cheerfully out of my bed, my heart was not only
comforted, but I was guided and encouraged to pray earnestly to God
for deliverance. When I had done praying, I took up my Bible, and
opening it to read, the first words that presented to me were, ‘‘ Wait
on the Lord, and be of good cheer, and he shall strengthen thy heart:
Wait, I say, on the Lord.’”” It is impossible to express the comfort
this gave me; and in return, I thankfully laid down the book, and was
no more sad, at least not on that occasion.

In the midst of these cogitations, apprehensions, and reflections, it
came into my thoughts one day, that all this might be a mere chimera
of my own, and that this foot might be the print of my own foot, when
I came on shore from my boat. This cheered me up a little too, and
I began to persuade myself it was all a delusion; that it was nothing
else but my own foot; and why might not I come that way from the
boat, as well as I was going that way tothe boat? Again, I considered
also, that I could by no means tell for certain where I had trod, and
where I had not; and that if at last this was only the print of my own
foot, I had played the part of those fools, who strive to make stories
of spectres and apparitions, and then are themselves frighted at them
more than anybody else.

Now I began to take courage, and to peep abroad again ; for I had
not stirred out of my castle for three days and nights, so that I began
to starve for provision; for I had little or nothing within doors, but
some barley-cakes and water. Then I knew that my goats wanted to
be milked too, which usually was my evening diversion: and the poor
creatures were in great pain and inconvenience for want of it ; and
indeed it almost spoiled some of them, and almost dried up their milk.

Heartening myself, therefore, with the belief that this was nothing
but the print of one of my own feet (and so I might be truly said to
start at my own shadow), I began to go abroad,again, and went to m
country house to milk my flock: but to see with what fear I argu
forward, how often I looked behind me, how I was ready, eypry
and then, to ‘ay down my basket. and run for my life; it wg








BS

_ ance; ¥

168 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

je ee,

‘made any one have thought I was haunted with an evil conscience, or

that I had been lately most terribly frighted; and so indeed I had.

However, as I went down thus two or three days, and having seen
nothing, I began to be a little bolder, and to think there was really
nothing in it but my own imagination ; but I could not persuade myself
fully of this, till I should go down to the shore again and see this prin‘
of a foot, and measure it by my own, and seeif there was any similitud:
or fitness, that I might be assured it was my own foot. But when 1
cume to the place first, it appeared evidently to me, that when I laid
up my boat, I could not possibly be on shore anywhere thereabouts.
Secondly, when I came to measure the mark with my own foot, I found
my foot not so large by a great deal. Both these things filled my head
with new imaginations, and gave me the vapours again to the highest:
degree ; so that I shook with cold like one in an ague, and I went home
again, filled with the belief that some man or men had been on shore
there; or, in short, that the island was inhabited, and I might be
surprised before I was aware ; and what course to take for my security
I_ knew not.

Oh, what ridiculous resolutions men take when possessed with fear!
It deprives them of the use of those means which reason offers for their
relief. The first thing I proposed to myself was, to throw down my
enclosures, and turn all my tame cattle wild into the woods, that the
enemy might not find them, and then frequent the island in prospect
of the same, or the like booty; then to the simple thing of digging up
my two corn fields, that they might not find such a grain there, and
still be prompted to frequent the island; then to demolish my bower
and tent, that they might not see any vestiges of my habitation, and
be prompted to look farther, in order to find out the persons in-
habiting.

These were the subjects of the first night’s cogitation, after I was
come home again, while the apprehensions which had so overrun my
mind were fresh upon me, and my head was full of vapours, as above.
Thus, fear of danger is ten thousand times more terrifying than danger
itself when apparent to the eyes; and we find the burden of anxiety
greater by much than the evil which we are anxious about: but, which
was worse than all this, I had not that relief in this trouble, from the
resignation I used to practise, that I hoped to have. I looked, I
thought, like Saul, who complained, not only that the Philistines were
upon him, but that God had forsaken him; for I did not now take due
ways to compose my mind, by crying to God in my distress, and resting
upon hig providence, as I had done before, for my defence and deliver-

Xia, if I had done, I had at least been more cheerfully -
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 169

supported under this new surprise, and perhaps carried through it with
more resolution.

This confusion of my thoughts kept me waking all night; but in the
morning I fell asleep, and having, by the amusement of my mind, been,
as it were, tired, and my spirits exhausted, I slept very soundly, and
awaked much better composed than I had ever been before. And now
I began to think sedately ; and, upon the utmost debate with myself,
I concluded that this island, which was so exceeding pleasant, fruitful,
and no farther from the mainland than as I had seen, was not so
entirely abandoned as I might imagine: that although there were ne
stated inhabitants who lived on the spot, yet that there might sometimes
come boats off from the shore, who, either with design, or perhaps
never but when they were driven by cross winds, might come to this
place: that I had lived here fifteen years now, and had not met with
the least shadow or figure of any people before; and that if at any
time they should be driven here, it was probable they went away again
as soon as ever they could, seeing they had never thought fit to fix
there upon any occasion, to this time: that the most I could suggest
any danger from, was from any such casual accidental landing of
straggling people from the main, who, as it was likely, if they were
driven hither, were here against their wills; so they made no stay here,
but went off again with all possible speed, seldom staying one night on
shore, lest they should not have the help of the tides and daylight
back again ; and that therefore I had nothing to do but to consider of
some safe retreat, in case I should see any savages land upon the spot.

Now I began sorely to repent that I had dug my cave so large, as
to bring a door through again, which door, as I said, came out beyond
where my fortification joined to therock. Upon maturely considering
this, therefore, I resolved to draw me a second fortification, in the
manner of a semicircle, at a distance from my wall, just where I had
planted a double row of trees about twelve years before, of which I
made mention: these trees having been planted so thick before, there
wanted but a few piles to be driven between them, that they should be
thicker and stronger, and my wall would be soon finished.

So that I had now a double wall, and my outer wall was thickened
with pieces of timber, old cables, and every thing I could think of to
make it strong; having in it seven little holes, about as big as I might
put my arm out at. In the inside of this I thickened my wall to about
ten feet thick, continually bringing earth out of my cave, and laying
it at the foot of the wall and walking upon it; and through the seven
holes I contrived to plant the muskets, of which I took not
got seven on shore out of the ship: these, I say, J plant







170 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

cannon, and fitted them into frames that held them like a carriage,
that so I could fire all the seven guns in two minutes’ time. This wall
I was many a weary month in finishing, and yet never thought myself
safe till it was done.

When this was done, I stuck all the grcund without my wall, for
a great way every way, as full with stakes or sticks of the osier-like
wood, which I found so apt to grow, as they could well stand; inso-
much, that I believe I might set in near twenty thousand of them,
leaving a pretty large space between them and my wall, that I might
have room to see an enemy, and they might have no shelter from the
young trees, if they attempted to approach my outer wall.

Thus in two years’ time I had a thick grove; and in five or six years’
time I had a wood before my dwelling, grown so monstrous thick and
strong, that it was indeed perfectly impassable; and no man of what
kind soever would ever imagine that there was any thing beyond it,
muck less a habitation. As for the way I proposed myself to go in
and out (for I left no avenue), it was by setting two ladders; one to a
part of the rock which was low, and then broke in, and left room to
place another ladder upon that; so when the two ladders were taken
down, no man living could come down to me without mischiefing him-
self; and if they had come down, they were still on the outside of my
outer wall.

Thus I took all the measures human prudence could suggest for my
own preservation; and it will be seen at length, that they were not
altogether without just reason; though I foresaw nothing at that time
more than my mere fear suggested.

While this was doing, I was not altogether careless of my other
affairs, for I had a great concern upon me for my little herd of goats;
they were not only a present supply to me upon every occasion, and
began to be sufficient for me without the expense of powder and shot,
but also abated the fatigue of my hunting after the wild ones; an@ I
was loath to lose the advantage of them, and to have them all to nurse
up over again.

To this purpose, after long consideration, I could think but of twe
ways to preserve them: one was to find another convenient place to
dig a cave under ground, and to drive them into it every night; and
the other was to enclose two or three little bits of land, remote from
one another, and as much concealed as I could, where I might keep
about half a dozen young goats in each place, so that if any disaster
happened to the flock in general, I might be able to raise them again
with little trouble and time; and this, though it would require a great
deat of be and labour, I thought was the most rational design.


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. tt

Accordingly, 1 spent some time to find out the most retired parts of —
the island; and I pitched upon one which was as private indeed as my
heart could wish, for it was a little damp piece of ground in the mid-
dle of the hollow and thick woods, where, as is observed, I almost lost
myself once before endeavouring to come back that way from the east-
ern part of the island. Here I found a clear piece of land, near three
acres, so surrounded with woods that it was almost an enclosure by
nature; at least, it did not want near so much labour to make it so as
the other pieces of ground I had worked so hard at.

I immediately went to work with this piece of ground, and in less
than a month’s time I had so fenced it round that my flock, or herd,
call it which you please, which were not so wild now as at first they
might be supposed to be, were well enough secured in it. So without
any further delay, I removed ten she-goats and two he-goats to this
piece; and when there, I continued to perfect the fence, till I had
made it as secure as the other, which, however, I did at more leisure,
and it took me up more time by a great deal.

CHAPTER XII.

[ observe a Canoe out at Sea—Find on the Shore the remnant of a Feast of Cannibals
—Horror of Mind thereon—Double arm myself—Terribly alarmed by a Goat—
Discover a singular Cave, or Grotto, of which I form my Magazine—My fears on
account of the Savages begin to subside.

Aut this labour I was at the expense of, purely from my apprehen-
sions on the account of the print of a man’s foot which I had seen;
for as yet I never saw any human creature come near the island, and
I had now lived two years under these uneasinesses, which indeed made
my life much less comfortable than it was before, as may well be ima-
gined by any who know what it is to live in the constant snare of the
fear of man: and this I must observe with grief too, that the discom-
posure of my mind had too great impressions also upon the religious
part of my thoughts ; for the dread and terror of falling into the hands
of savages and cannibals lay so upon my spirits, that I seldom found
myself in a due temper for application to my Maker; at least, not
with the sedate calmness and resignation of soul which I was wont to
do. Irather prayed to God as under great affliction aud pressure of
mind, surrounded with danger, and in expectation every nightyof being

®









172 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



murdered and devoured before the morning; and I must testify from
my experience, that a temper of peace, thankfulness, love, and affec-
tion, is much more the proper frame for prayer, than that of terror
and discomposure; and that under the dread of mischief impending,
a man is no more fit for a comforting performance of the duty of pray-
ing to God, than he is for repentance on a sick-bed; for these discom-
posures affect the mind as the others do the body; and the discom-
posure of the mind must necessarily be as great a disability as that of
the body, and much greater; praying to God being properly an act of
the mind, not of the body.

But to go on: After I had thus secured one part of my little living
stock, I went about the whole island searching for another private:
place to make such another deposit; when wandering more to the west
point of the island than I had ever dcne yet, and looking out to sea,
I thought I saw a boat upon the sea at a great distance. I had found
a perspective glass or two in one of the seamen’s chests which I saved
out of our ship; but I had it not about me, and this was so remote,
that I could not tell what to make of it, though I looked at it till my
eyes were not able to look any longer: whether it was a boat or not, I
did not know: but as I descended from the hill, I could see no more
of it, so I gave it over; only I resolved to go no more without a per-
spective glass in my pocket.

When I was come down the hill to the end of the island, where in-
deed I had never been before, I was presently convinced that the see-
ing the print of a man’s foot was not such a strange thing in the island
as I imagined; and, but that it was a special providence that I was
cast upon the side of the island where the savages never came, I should
easily have known, that nothing was more frequent than for the canoes
from the main, when they happened to be a little too far out at sea, to
shoot over to that side of the island for harbour; likewise, as they
often met, and fought in their canoes, the victors, having taken any
prisoners would bring them over to this shore, where, according to
their dreadful customs, being all cannibals, they would kill and eat
them: of which hereafter.

When I was come down the hill to the shore, as I said above, being
the south-west point of the island, I was perfectly confounded and
amazed; nor is it possible for me to express the horror of my mind,
at seeing the shore spread with skulls, hands, feet, and other bones of
human bodies; and, particularly, I observed a. place where there had
been a fire made, and a circle dug in the earth, like a cock-pit, where
it is supposed the savage wretches had sat down to their inhuman feast-
ings updp the bodies of their fellow creatures.

2
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE: 113



I was sc astonished with the sight of these things, that I entertained
no notions of any danger to myself from it for a long while; all my
apprehensions were buried in the thoughts of such a pitch of inhuman,
hellish brutality, and the horror of the degeneracy of human nature ;
which, though I had heard of often, yet I never had so near a view of
before: in short, I turned away my face from the horrid spectacle ;
my stomach grew sick, and I was just at the point of fainting, when
nature discharged the disorder from my stomach, and having vomited
with an uncommon violence, I was a little relieved, but could not bear
to stay in the place a moment; so I got me up the hill again with all
the speed I could, and walked on towards my own habitation.

When I came a little out of that part of the island, I stood still
awhile as amazed; and then recovering myself, I looked up with the
utmost affection of my soul, and with a flood of tears in my eyes, gave
God thanks, that had cast my first lot in a part of the world where I
was distinguished from such dreadful creatures as these; and that,
though I had esteemed my present condition very miserable, had yet
given me so many comforts in it, that I had still more to give thanks
for than to complain of; and this above all, that I had, even in this
miserable condition, been comforted with the knowledge of himself,
and the hope of his blessing, which was a felicity more than sufficiently
equivalent to all the misery which I had suffered, or could suffer.

In this frame of thankfulness I went home to my- castle, and began
to be much easier now, as to the safety of my circumstances, than ever
I was before; for I observed, that these wretches never came to this
island in search of what they could get; perhaps not seeking, not
wanting, or not expecting, any thing here, and having often, no doubt,
been up in the covered woody part of it, without finding any thing to
their purpose. I knew I had been here now almost eighteen years,
and never saw the least footsteps of a human creature there before ;
and might be here eighteen more as entirely concealed as I was now,
if I did not discover myself to them, which I had no manner of occa-
sion to do, it being my only business to keep myself entirely concealed
where I was, unless I found a better sort of creatures than cannibals to
make myself known to.

Yet I entertained such an abhorrence of the savage wretches that I
have been speaking of, and of the wretched inhuman custom of their

devouring and eating one another up, that I continued pensive and ©
sad, and kept close within my own circle for almost two years after. _
this: when I say my own circle, I mean by it my three plantations,




namely, my castle, my country seat, which I called my bower,:aimd my
enclosure in the woods; nor did I look after this for any oth


.

174 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



as an enclosure for my goats; for the aversion which nature gave me
to these hellish wretches was such, that I was as fearful of seeing them
as of seeing the devil himself; nor did I so much as go to look after
my boat in all this time, but began rather to think of making me an-
other; for I could not think of ever making any more attempts to
bring the other boat round the island to me, lest I should meet with
some of those creatures at: sea, in which, if I had happened to have
fallen into their hands, I knew what would have been my lot.

Time, however, and the satisfaction I had that I was in no danger
of being discovered by these people, began to wear off my uneasiness
about them; and I began to live just in the same composed manner
as before; only with this difference, that I used more caution, and
kept my eyes more about me than I did before, lest I should happen
to be seen by any of them; and particularly, I was more cautious of
firing my gun, lest any of them on the island should happen to hear it;
and it was therefore a very good providence to me, that I had furnished
myself with a tame breed of goats, that I had no need to hunt any
more about the woods, or shoot at them; and if I did catch any more
of them after this, it was by traps and snares, as I had done before, sc
that for two years after this, I believe I never fired my gun once off,
though I never went out without it: and which was more, as I had
saved three pistols out of the ship, I always carried them out with me,
or at least two of them, sticking them in my goat-skin belt: I likewise
furbished up one of the great cutlasses that I had out of the ship, and
made me a belt to put it in also: so that I was now a most formid-
able fellow to look at when I went abroad, if you add to the former
description of myself, the particular of two pistols, and a great broad-
sword hanging at my side in a belt, but without a scabbard.

Things going on thus, as I have'said, for some time, I seemed, ex-
cepting these cautions, to be reduced to my former calm sedate way
of living. All these things tended to show me more and more how far
my condition was from being miserable, compared to some others—
nay, to many other particulars of life, which it might have pleased
God to have made my lot. It put me upon reflecting, how little re-
pining there would be among mankind, at any condition of life, if
people would rather compare their condition with those that are worse,
iu order to be thankful, than be always comparing them with those
which’ are better, to assist their murmurings and complainings.

As in my present condition there were not really many things which
I wanted, so indeed I thought that the frights I had been in about
these savage wretches, and the concern I had been in for my own pre-
servation, had taken off the edge of my invention for my own con-

oO San


oe

OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. - 175

yeniences, and I had dropped a good design, which I had once bent
my thoughts upon; and that was, to try if I could not make some of
my barley into malt, and then try to brew myself some beer. This
was really a whimsical thought, and I reproved myself often for the
simplicity of it; for I presently saw there would be the want of several
things necessary to the making my beer, that would be impossible for
me to supply; as first, casks to preserve it in, which was a thing that,
as I have observed already, I could never compass; no, though I spent
not many days, but weeks—nay, months in attempting it, but to no
purpose. In the next place, I had no hops to make it keep, no yeast
to make it work, no copper or kettle to make it boil; and yet, had not
all these things intervened—I mean the frights and terrors I was in
about the savages—I had undertaken it, and perhaps brought it tu

"

pass too; for I seldom gave any thing over without accomplishing it, |

when I once had it in my head enough to begin it.
But my invention now ran quite another way; for night and day I
could think of nothing, but howI might destroy some of these monsters

in their cruel bloody entertainment, and, if possible, save the victim .

they should bring hither to destroy. It would take up a larger volume
than this whole work is intended to be, toset down all the contrivances
I hatched or rather brooded upon in my thoughts, for the destroying

these creatures, or at least frightening them, so as to prevent their -

coming hither any more: but all was abortive; nothing could be pos-
sible to take effect, unless I was to be there to do it myself; and what
could one man do among them, when perhaps there might be twenty
or thirty of them together, with their darts, or their bows and arrows,
with which they could shoot as true to a mark as I could with my
gun?

Sometimes I contrived to dig a hole under the place where they
made their fire, and put in five or six pounds of gunpowder, which,
when they kindled their fire, would consequently take fire, and blow up
all that was near it; but- as, in the first place, I should be very loath
to waste so much powder upon them, my store now being within the
quantity of a barrel, so neither could I be sure of its going off at any
certain time, when it might surprise them; and, at best, that it would do
little more than just blow the fire about their ears, and fright them, but
not sufficient to make them forsake the place: so I laid it aside, and
then proposed, that I would place myself in ambush, in some conve-
nient place, with my three guns all double loaded, and in the middle

of their bloody ceremony, let fly at them, when I should be sure to

kill or wound perhaps two or three at every shot; and then fallin
upon them with my three pistols and my sword, I made no doubi






176 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



that, if there were twenty, I should kill them all. This fancy d
my thoughts for some weeks, and I was so full of it, that Foften
dreamed of it, and sometimes, that I was just going to let fly at them
in my sleep.

I went so far with it in my indignation, that I employed myself
several days to find out proper places to put myself in ambuscade, as I
said, to watch for them; and I went frequently to the place itself,
which was now grown more familiar to me; and especially while my
mind was thus filled with thoughts of revenge, and of a bloody putting
twenty or thirty of them to the sword, as I may call it; but the hor-
ror I had at the place, and at the signals of the barbarous wretches
devouring one another, abated my malice.

Well, at length I found a place in the side of the hill, where I was
satisfied I might securely wait till I saw any of the boats coming, and
might then, even before they would be ready to come on shore, convey
myself unseen into thickets of trees, in one of which there was a hoHow
large enough to conceal me entirely, and where I might sit, and ob-
serve all their bloody doings, and take my full aim at their heads,
when they were so close together, as that it would be next to impos-
sible that I should miss my shot, or that I could fail wounding three
or four of them at the first shot.

In this place, then, I resolved to fix my design; and accordingly I
prepared two muskets and my ordinary fowling-piece. The two mus-
kets I loaded with a brace of slugs each, and four or five smaller bullets,
about the size of pistol bullets, and the fowling-piece I loaded with near
a handful of swan-shot, of the largest size; I also loaded my pistols
with about four bullets each: and in this posture, well provided with
ammunition for a second and third charge, I prepared myself for my
expedition.

After I had thus laid the scheme for my design, and in my ima-
gination put it in practice, I continually made my tour every morning
up to the top of the hill, which was, from my castle, as I called it,
about three miles or more, to see if I could observe any boats upon
the sea, coming near the island, or standing over towards it; but I
’ began to tire of this hard duty, after I had for two or three months
constantly kept my watch; but came always back without any discovery,
there having not in all that time been the least appearance, not only
on or near the shore, but not on the whole ocean, so far as my eyes
or glasses could reach every way.

As long as I kept up my daily tour to the hill to look out, so long
also I képt up the vigour of my design, and my spirits seemed to be
all the while in a suitable frame for so outrageous an execution as the


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. ‘ATT





killing twenty or thirty naked savages for an offence, which I had not
at all entered into a discussion of in my thoughts, any further than
my passions were at first fired by the horror I conceived at the un-
natural custom of the people of that country, who, it seems, had been
suffered by Providence, in his wise disposition of the world, to have no
other guide than that of their own abominable and vitiated passions ;
and consequently were left, and perhaps had been for some ages, tu
act such horrid things, and receive such dreadful customs, as nothing
but nature, entirely abandoned of Heaven, and actuated by some
hellish degeneracy, could have run them into: but now, when, as I have
said, I began to be weary of the fruitless excursion which I had made
so long and so far every morning in vain; so my opinion of the action
itself began to alter, and I began, with cooler and calmer thoughts, to
consider what it was I was going to engage in; what authority or call
I had to pretend to be judge and executioner upon these men as
criminals, whom Heaven had thought fit for so many ages to suffer un-
punished to go on, and to be, as it were, the executioners of his judg-
ments upon one another; also, how far these people were offenders
against me, and what right I had to engage in the quarrel of that
blood, which they shed promiscuously one upon another. I debated
this very often with myself thus: How do I know what God himself
judges in this particular case? It is certain these people do not com-
mit this as a crime; it is not against their own consciences reproving,
or their light reproaching them. They do not knowit to be an offence,
and then commit it in defiance of divine justice, as we do in almost all
the sins we commit. They think it no more to kill a captive taken in
war, than we do to kill an ox, nor to eat human flesh, than we do to.
eat mutton.

When I had considered this a little, it followed necessarily, that I
was certainly in the wrong in it; that these people were not murderers
in the sense that I had before condemned them in my thoughts, any
more than those Christians.were murderers, who often put to death
the prisoners taken in battle; or more frequently, upon many occa-
sions, put whole troops of men to the sword, without giving quarter,
though they threw down their arms and submitted.

In the next place, it occurred to me, that albeit the usage they gave
‘one another was thus brutish and inhuman, yet it was really nothing
to me: these people had.done me no injury: that if they attempted
me, or I saw it necessary for my immediate preservatiel
them, something might be said for it; but that-I was’ yet’
power, and: they had really no knowledge:of me, and co)
design * mé; and therefore it could not be just Tort me’ ‘to:






178 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES





them: that thic would justify the conduct of the Spaniards, in all their
barbarities practised in America, where they destroyed millions of
these people, who, however they were idolaters and barbarians, and
had several bloody and barbarous rites in their customs, such as sacrifi-
cing human bodies to their idols, were yet, as to the Spaniards, very
innocent people; and that the rooting them out of the country is
spoken of with the utmost abhorrence and detestation, even by the
Spaniards themselves, at this time; and by all other Christian nations
of Europe, as a mere butchery, a bloody and unnatural piece of cruelty,
unjustifiable either to God or man, and such, as for which the very
name of a Spaniard is reckoned to be frightful and terrible to all
people of humanity, or of Christian compassion: as if the kingdom of
Spain were particularly eminent for the product of a race of men, who
were without principles of tenderness, or the common bowels of pity to
the miserable, which is reckoned to be a mark of a generous temper in
the mind.

These considerations really put me to a pause, and to a kind of a
full stop; and I began by little and little to be off of my design, and
to conclude I had taken a wrong measure in my resolutions to attack
the savages; that it was not my business to meddle with them, unless
they first attacked me, and this it was my business, if possible, to
prevent; but that, if I were discovered and attacked, then I knew my
duty.

On the other hand, I argued with myself, that this really was not
she way to deliver myself, but entirely to ruin and destroy myself; for
unless I was sure to kill every one that not only should be on shore at
that time, but that should ever come on shore afterwards, if but one
of them escaped to tell their country-people what had happened, they
would come over again by thousands to revenge the death of their
fellows; and I should only bring upon myself a certain destruction,
which at present I had no manner of occasion for.

Upon the whole, I concluded, that neither in principles nor in
policy, I ought one way or other to concern myself in this affair: that
my business was, by all possible means, to conceal myself from them,
and not to leave the least signal to them to guess by, that there were
any living creatures upon the island, I mean of human shape.

Religion joined in with this prudential resolution, and I was con-
vinced now many ways that I was perfectly out of my duty, when I
was laying all my bloody schemes for the destruction of innocent crea-
tures,—I mean innocent as to me: as to the crimes they were guilty
of towards one another, I had nothing to do with them; they were
ational punishments to make a just retribution for national offences;
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 179



and to bring public judgments upon those who offended in a publie
manner, by such ways as best please God.

This appeared so clear to me now, that nothing was a greater satis-
faction to me, than that I had not been suffered to do a thing which I
now saw so much reason to believe would have been no less a sin than
that of wilful murder, if I had committed it; and I gave most humble
thanks on my knees to God, that had thus delivered me from blood-
guiltiness$; beseeching him to grant me the protection of his providence,
that I might not fall into the hands of barbarians ; or that I might not
lay my hands upon them, unless I had a more clear call from Heaven
to do it, in defence of my own life.

In this disposition I continued for near a year after this: and so far
was I from desiring an occasion for falling upon these wretches, that
in all that time I never once went up the hill to see whether there
were any of them in sight, or to know whether any of them had been
on shore there, or not; that I might not be tempted to renew any of
my contrivances against them, or be provoked, by any advantage which
might present itself, to fall upon them; only this I did, I went and
removed my boat, which I had on the other side of the island, and
carried it down to the east end of the whole island, where I ran it into
a little cove which I found under some high rocks, and where I knew,
by reason of the currents, the savages durst not, at least would not,
come with their boats upon any account whatsoever.

With my boat I carried away every thing that I had left there be-
longing to her, though not necessary for the bare going thither,
namely, a mast and sail, which I had made for her, and a thing like
an anchor, but indeed, which could not be called either anchor or
grappling: however, it was the best I could make of its kind. All
these I removed, that there might not be the least shadow of any dis-
covery, or any appearance of any boat, or of any habitation upon the
island.

Besides this, I kept myself, as I said, more retired than ever, and
seldom went from my cell, other than upon my constant employment,
namely, to milk my she-goats and manage my little flock in the wood,
which, as it was quite on the other part of the island, was quite out of
danger; for certain it is, that these savage people, who sometimes
haunted this island, never came with any thoughts of finding any
thing here, and consequently never wandered off from the coast; and
I doubt not but they might have been several times-on shore, ‘ete

my apprehensions of them had made me cautious, ag well as before; a

and indeed I looked back with some horror upon the thoughts ‘
my condition would have been, if I had chopped upon!'the

£
t




180 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

discovered before that, when naked and unarmed, except with one gun,
and that loaded often only with small shot. I walked everywhere,
peeping and peering about the island, to see what I could get: what a
parprise should I have been in, if, when I discovered the print of a
man’s foot, I had instead of that seen fifteen or twenty savages, and
found them pursuing me, and, by the swiftness of their running, no
possibility of my escaping them.

The thoughts of this sometimes sunk my very soul within, me, and
distressed my mind so much that I could not soon recover it ; to think
what I should have done, and how I not only should not have been
able to resist them, but even should not have had presence of mind
enough to do what I might have done, much less what now, after so
much consideration and preparation, I might be able todo. Indeed,
after serious thinking of these things, I would be very melancholy,
and sometimes it would last a great while; but I resolved it at last all
into thankfulness to that Providence, which had delivered me from so
many unseen dangers, and had kept me from those mischiefs which I
could no way have been the agent in delivering myself from; because
I had not the least notion of any such thing depending, or the least
supposition of its being possible.

This renewed a contemplation, which often had come to my thoughts
in former time, when first I began to see the merciful dispositions of
Heaven, in the dangers we run through in this life, how wonderfully
we are delivered when we know nothing of it—how, when we are in a
quandary (as we call it), a doubt or hesitation whether to go this way
or that way, a secret hint shall direct us this way, when we intend to
go another way—nay, when sense, our own inclination, and perhaps
business, has called to go the other way, yet a strange impression upon
the mind, from we know not what springs, and by we know not what
power, shall overrule us to go this way: and it shall afterwards
appear, that had we gone that way which we would have gone, and
even to our imagination ought to have gone, we should have been
ruined and lost. Upon these, and many like reflections, I afterwards
made it a certain rule with me, that whenever I found those secret
hints, or pressings of my mind, to doing or not doing any thing that
presented, or to going this way or that way, I never failed to obey the
secret dictate; though I knew no other reason for it, than that such a
pressure or such a hint hung upon my mind. I could give many
examples of the success of this conduct in the course of my life, but
more especially in the latter part of my inhabiting this unhappy
island; besides many occasions which it is very likely I might have
taken notice of, if I had seen with the same eyes then that I saw with


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 181

now. But it is never too late to be wise; and I cannot but advise all
considering men, whose lives are attended with such extraordinary in-
cidents as mine, or even though not so extraordinary, not to slight such
secret intimations of Providence, let them come from what invisible in-
telligence they will: that I shall not discuss, and perhaps cannot
account for; but certainly they are a proof of the converse of spirita,
and the secret communication between those embodied and those un-
embodied; and such a proof as can never be withstood: of which I
shall have occasion to give some very remarkable instances, in the re-
mainder of my solitary residence in this dismal place.

I believe the reader of this will not think it strange, if I confess
that these anxieties,'these constant dangers I lived in,.and the concern
that was now upon me, put an end to all invention, and to all the con-
trivances that I had laid for my future accommodations and conveni-
ences. I had the care of my safety more now upon my hands than
that of my food. I cared not to drive a nail, or chop a stick of wood
now, for fear the noise I should make should be heard; much less
would I fire a gun, for the same reason; and, above all, I was very
uneasy at making any fire, lest the smoke, which is visible at a great
distance in the day, should betray me ; and, for this reason, I removed
that part of my business which required fire, such as burning of pots
and pipes, &c. into my new apartment in the wood; where, after I
had heen some time, I found, to my unspeakable consolation, a mere
natural cave in the earth, which went in a vast way, and where, I dare
say, no savage, had he been at the mouth of it, would be so hardy as
to venture in, nor indeed would any man else, but one who, like me,
wanted nothing so much as a safe retreat.

The mouth of this hollow was at the bottom of a great rock, where,
by mere accident, (I would say, if I did not see an abundant reason to
ascribe all such things now to Providence), I was cutting down some
thick branches of trees to make charcoal; and before I go on, I must
observe the reason of my making this charcoal, which was thus:

I was afraid of making a smoke about my habitation, as I said
before; and yet I could not live there without baking my bread, cook-
ing my meat, &c.; so I contrived to burn some wood here, as I had
seen done in England, under turf, till it became chark, or dry coal ;
and then putting the fire out, I preserved the coal to carry home, and
perform the other services which fire was wanting for at home, without
danger or smoke.

But this by the by: While I was cutting down some wood here,
I perceived that, behind a very thick branch of low brushwood or

ur.derwood, there was a kind of hollow place; I was curious. to look












182 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

nnn EEE EEESns EEE SEEEEEED!

into it, and getting with difficulty into the mouth of it, I found it was
pretty large, that is to say, sufficient for me to stand upright in it, and
perhaps another with me; but I must confess to you I made more haste
out than I did in: when looking farther into the place, which was per-
fectly dark, I saw two broad shining eyes of some creature, whether
devil or man I knew not, which twinkled like two stars, the dim light
from the cave’s mouth shining directly in, and making the reflection.

However, after some pause, I recovered myself, and began to call
inyself a thousand fools, and tell myself, that he that was afraid to see
the devil, was not fit to live twenty years in an island all alone, and
that I durst to believe there was nothing in this cave that was more
frightful than myself. Upon this, plucking up my courage, I took up
a large firebrand, and in I rushed again, with the stick flaming in my
hand: I had not gone three steps in, but I was almost as much fright-
ened as I was before; for I heard a very loud sigh, like that of a man
in some pain; and it was followed by a broken noise, as if of words
half expressed, and then a deep sigh again: I stepped back, and was
indeed struck with such a surprise that it put me into a cold sweat;
and if I had had a hat on my head, I will not answer for it that my
hair might not have lifted it off. But still plucking up my spirits as
well as I could, and encouraging myself a little with considering that
the power and presence of God was everywhere, and was able to pro-
tect me: upon this I stepped forward again, and by the light of the
firebrand, holding it up a little over my head, I saw lying on the
ground a most monstrous frightful old he-goat, just making his will, as
we say, gasping for life, and dying indeed of mere old age.

I stirred him a little to see if I could get him out, and he essayed to
get up, but was not able to raise himself; and I thought with myself,
he might even lie there; for if he had frightened me so, he would cer-
tainly fright any of the savages, if any of them should be so hardy as
to come in there, while he had any life in him.

I was now recovered from my surprise, and began to look round me,
when I found the cave was but very small; that is to say, it might be
about twelve feet over, but in no manner of shape, either round or
square, no hands having ever been employed in making it but those of
mere nature: I observed also, that there was a place at the farther
side of it that went in farther, but so low, that it required me to creep
upon my hands and knees to get into it, and whither it went, I knew
not: so having no candle, I gave it over for some time, but resolved
to come again the next day, provided with candles and a tinder-box,
which I had made of the lock of one of the muskets, with some wildfire
in the pan.
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 183

Accordingly, the next day, I came provided with six large candles
of my own making, for I made very good candles now of goats’ tallow;
and going into this low place, I was obliged to creep upon all fours, as
I have said, almost ten yards, which, by the way, I thought was a ven-
ture bold enough, considering that I knew not how far it might go, or
what was beyond it. When I was got through the strait, I found the
roof rose higher up, I believe near twenty feet; but never was such + 9"
glorious sight seen in the island, I dare say, as it was, to look round ~_
the sides and roof of this vault or cave. The walls reflected a hun-
dred thousand lights to me from my two candles; what it was in the
rock, whether diamonds or any other precious stones, or gold, which I
rather supposed it to be, I knew not.

The place I was in was a most delightful cavity, or grotto, of its

kind, as could be expected, though perfectly dark; the floor was dry
and level, and had a sort of small loose gravel upon it; so that there
was no nauseous creature to be seen; neither was there any damp or
wet on the sides of the roof: the only diificulty in it was the entrance,
which, however, as it was a place of security, and such a retreat as I
wanted, I thought that was a convenience ; so that I was really rejoiced:
at the discovery, and resolved, without any delay, to bring some of
those things which I was most anxious about to this place; particularly,
I resolved to bring hither my magazine of powder, and all my spare
arms, viz. two fowling-pieces (for I had three in all), and three muskets
(for of them I had eight in all); so I kept at my castle only five, which
stood ready mounted, like pieces of cannon, on my outmost fence, and
were ready also to take out upon any expedition.

Upon this occasion of removing my ammunition, I was obliged to
open the barrel of powder which I took up out of the sea, and which
had been wet, and I found, that the water had penetrated about three ;
or four inches into the powder on every side, which, caking and grow-
ing hard, had preserved the inside like a kernel in a shell; so that I
had near sixty pounds of very good powder in the centre of the cask}.
and this was an agreeable discovery to me at that time: so I carried all
away thither, never keeping above two or three pounds of powder with”
me in my castle, for fear of a surprise of any kind; I also carried
thither all the lead I had left for bullets.

I fancied myself now like one of the ancient giants, which were said
to live in caves and holes in the rocks, where none could come at them: -
for I persuaded myself while I was here, if five hundred savages were
to hunt me, they could never find me out; or if they i they woul
not venture to attack me, here.

The old goat, which I found expiring, died in the mouth of







184 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



the next day after I made this discovery: and I found it much easier
to dig a great hole there, and throw him in, and cover him with earth,
than to drag him out; so I interred him there, to prevent offence tc
my nose.

CHAPTER XII.

Description of my Situation in the twenty-third Year of my Residence—Discover nine
naked Savages round a Fire on my side of the Island—My horror on beholding the
dismal Work they are about—I determine on the Destruction of the next Party, at
all risks—A ship lost off the Island—Go on board the Wreck, which I discern to be
Spanish—Procure a great variety of Articles from the Vessel.

I was now in my twenty-third year of residence in this island, and
was so naturalized to the place and to the manner of living, that could
I have but enjoyed the certainty that no savages would come to the
place to disturb me, I could have been content to have capitulated for
spending the rest of my time there, even to the last moment, till I had
laid me down and died, like the old goat, in the cave: I had also
arrived to some little diversions and amusements, which made the time
pass more pleasantly with me a great deal than it did before: as, first,
Thad taught my Poll, as I noted before, to speak; and he did it so
familiarly, and talked so articulately and plain, that it was very plea-
want to me; and he lived with me no less than six-and-twenty years:
how long he might live afterwards I knew not; though I know they
have a notion in the Brazils, that they live a hundred years; perhaps
some of my Polls may be alive there still, calling after Poor Robin
Crusoe to this day: I wish no Englishman the ill luck to come there
and hear them; but if he did, he would certainly believe it was the
devil. My dog was a very pleasant and loving companion to me for
no less than sixteen years of my time, and then died of mere old age.
As for my cats, they multiplied, as I have observed, to that degree,
that I was obliged to shoot several of them at first, to keep them from
devouring me and all I had; but at length, when the two old ones I
brought with me were gone, after some time continually driving them
from me, and letting them have no provision with me, they all ran wild
into the woods, except two or three favourites, which I kept tame, and
whose young, when they had any, I always drowned, and these were
part of my family: besides these I always kept two or three household
kids about me, which I taught to feed out of my hand; and I had alse
more parrots, which talked pretty well, and would all call Robin Cru-
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 185

soe, but none like my first; nor, indeed, did I take the pains with any
of tnem that I had done with him: I had also several tame sea-fowls,
whose names I know not, which I caught upon the shore, and cut their
wings; and the little stakes which I had planted before my castle
wall being now grown up to a good thick grove, these fowls all lived
among these low trees, and bred there, which was very agreeable to
me; so that, as I said above, I began to be very well contented with
the life I led, if it might but have been secured from the dread of
savages. ;

But it was otherwise directed; and it might not be amiss for all
people, who shall meet with my story, to make this just observation
from it, namely, How frequently, in the course of our lives, the evil
which in itself we seek most to shun, and which, when we are fallen
into, is the most dreadful to us, is oftentimes the very means or door
of our deliverance, by which alone we can be raised again from the
affliction we are fallen into. I could give many examples of this in
the course of my unaccountable life; but in nothing was it more par-
ticularly remarkable, than in the circumstances of my last years of
solitary residence in this island.

It was now the month of December, as I said above, in my twenty-
third year; and this being the southern solstice—for winter I cannot
call it—was the particular time of my harvest, and required my being
pretty much abroad in the fields; when going out pretty early in the
morning, even before it was thorough day-light, I was surprised with
seeing a light of some fire upon the shore, at a distance from me of
about two miles, towards the end of the island where I had observed
some savages had been, as before; but not on the other side, but, to
my great affliction, it was on my side of the island.

I was indeed terribly surprised at the sight, and stopped short within
my grove, not daring to go out, lest I might be surprised; and yet I
had no more peace within, from the apprehensions I had, that if these
savages, in rambling over the island, should find my corn standing, or

cut, or any of my works and improvements, they would immediately -
conclude that there were people in the place, and would then never
give over till they found me out. In this extremity I went back

directly to my castle, pulled up the ladder after me, having made all
things without look as wild and natural as I could.

Then I prepared myself within, putting myself in a posture of

defence: I loaded all my cannon, as I called them, that is to say, my

muskets, which were mounted upon my fortification, and all my pistols,

and resolved to defend myself to the last gasp; not forgetting seriously
to recommend myself to the divine protection, and earnestly to pri








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. 186 CRUSOE IN HIS FORT.
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 18%

God to deliver me aut of the hands of the barbarians; and in this
posture I continued about two hours, but began to be mighty impatient
for intelligence abroad, for I had no spies to send out.

After sitting a while longer, and musing what I should do in this
case, I was not able to bear sitting in ignorance longer ; so setting up
my ladder to the side of the hill, where there was a flat place, as I
sbserved before, and then pulling the ladder up after me, I set it up
again, and mounted to the top of the hill; and pulling out my perspec-
tive glass, which I had taken on purpose, I laid me down flat on my
belly on the ground, and began to look for the place. I presently
found there were no less than nine naked savages sitting round a small
fire they had made; not to warm them—for they had no need of that
—the weather being extreme hot; but, as I supposed, to dress some
of their barbarous diet of human flesh which they had brought with
them, whether alive or dead I could not know.

They had two canoes with them, which they had hauled up upon
the shore: and as it was then tide of ebb, they seemed to me to wait
the return of the flood to go away again. It is not easy to imagine
what confusion this sight put me into, especially seeing them come on
my side the island, and so near me too; but when I observed their .
coming must be always with the current of the ebb, I began after-
wards to be more sedate in my mind, being satisfied that I might go
abroad with safety all the time of tide of flood, if they were not on
shore before; and having made.this observation, I went abroad about
my harvest work with the more composure.

As I expected, so it proved; for as soon as the tide made to the
westward, I saw them all take boat, and row (or paddle, as we call it)
all away: I should have observed, that for an hour and more before they -
went off, they went to dancing, and I could easily discern their postures
and gestures by my glasses: I could only perceive, by my nicest ob-
servation, that they were stark naked, and had not the least covering
upon them; but whether they were men or women, that I could not
distinguish.

As soon as I saw them shipped and gone, I took two guns upon my.
shoulders, and two pistols at my girdle, and my great sword by my
side, without a scabbard; and with all the speed I was able to make,
I went away to the hill, where I had discovered the first appearance of
all. As soon asI got thither, which was not less than two hours (for
I could not go apace, being so loaded with arms as I was), I perceived
there had been three canoes more of savages on that place; and looks
ing out farther, I saw they were all at sea together, making over for
the main.

- saan.





188 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES





This was a dreadful sight to me, especially when, going to the shore,
I could see the marks of horror which the dismal work they had been
about had left behind it, namely, the blood, the bones, and part of the
flesh of human bodies, eaten and devoured by those wretches with mer-
riment and sport. I was so filled with indignation at the sight, that I
began now to premeditate the destruction of the next that I saw there,
let them be who or how many soever.

It seemed evident to me, that the visits which they thus made to
this island were not very frequent; for it was above fifteen months
before any more of them came on shore there again; that is to say, I
never saw them, or any footsteps or signals of them, in all that time;
for as to the rainy seasons, then they are sure not to come abroad, at
least not so far; yet all this while I lived uncomfortably, by reason of
the constant apprehensions I was in of their coming upon me by sur-
prise; from whence I observe, that the expectation of evil is more bitter
than the suffering, especially if there is no room to shake off that ex-
pectation, or those apprehensions.

During all this time, I was in the murdering humour ; and took up
most of my hours, which should have been better employed, in con-
triving how to circumvent and fall upon them the very next time I
should see them, especially if they should be divided, as they were the
last time, into two parties; nor, did I consider at all, that if I killed
one party, suppose ten or a dozen, I was still, the next day, or week,
or month, to kill another, and so another, even ad infinitum, till I should
be at length no less a murderer than they were in being men-eaters,
and perhap$ much more so.

I spent my days now in great perplexity and anxiety of mind, ex-

_ pecting that I should’ one day or other fall into the hands of those
merciless creatures; if I did at any time venture abroad, it was not
without looking round me with the greatest care and caution imagin-
able; and now I found, to my great comfort, how happy it was that I
had provided a tame flock or herd of goats; for I durst not, upon any
account, fire my gun, especially near that side of the island where they
usually came, lest I should alarm the savages; and if they had fled
from me now, I was sure to have them come back again, with perhaps
two or three hundred canoes with them in a few days, and then I knew
what to expect.

However, I wore out a year and three months more before I ever
saw any more of the savages, and then I found them again, as I shall
soon observe. It is true, they might have been there once or twice,
hut either they made no stay, or, at least, I did not hear them; but in
the month of May, as near as I could calculate, and in my four-and-
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 189

—_— S—





twentieth year, I had a very strange encounter with them, of which in
its place.

The perturbation of my mind, during this fifteen or sixteen months’
interval, was very great; I slept unquiet, dreamed always frightful
dreams, and often started out of my sleep in the night: in the day
great troubles overwhelmed my mind; in the night I dreamed often of
killing the savages, and the reasons why I might justify the doing of
it. But to wave all this for a while, it was in the middle of May, on
the sixteenth day, I think, as well as my poor wooden calendar would
reckon, for I marked all upon the post still,—I say, it was on the six-
teenth of May that it blew a great storm of wind all day, with a great
deal of lightning and thunder, and a very foul night was after it: I
know not what was the particular occasion of it; but as I was reading
in the Bible, and taken -up with serious thoughts about my present
condition, I was surprised with the noise of a gun, as I thought, fired
at sea.

This was, to be sure, a surprise of a quite different nature from a:

I had met with before; for the notions this put into my thoughts were
quite of another kind. I started up in the greatest haste imaginable;
and, in a trice, clapped up my ladder to the middle place of the rock,
and pulled it after me, and mounting it the second time, got to the «
top of the hill; that very moment a flash of fire bade me listen for a
second gun, which, accordingly, in about half a minute I heard, and,
by the sound, knew that it was from that part of the sea where I was
driven out with the current in my boat.

T immediately considered that this must be some ship in distress,
and that they had some comrade, or some other ship in company, and
fired these guns for signals of distress, and to obtain help. I had this
presence of mind that minute as to think, that though I could not help
them, it might be they might help me; so I brought together all the
dry wood I could get at hand, and making a good handsome pile, I set
it on fire upon the hill. The wood was dry, and blazed freely, and
though the wind blew very hard, yet it burnt fairly out, so that I was
certain, if there was any such thing as a ship, they must needs see it,
and no doubt they did; for as soon as ever my fire blazed up, I heard
another gun, and after that several others, all from tie same quarter.
I plied my fire all night long till day broke; and when it was broad
day, and the air cleared up, I saw something at a great distance at
sea, full east of the island, whether a sail or a hull I could ‘not
guish, no, not with my glasses, the distance was so greal
weather still something hazy also: at least it was so out at

T iooked frequently at it all that day, and soon perceived that it?






190 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



not move, so I presently concluded that it was a ship at anchor; and
being eager, you ‘may be sure, to be satisfied, I took my gun in my
hand, and ran towards the south-east side of the island, to the rocks,
where I had been formerly carried away with the current; and getting
up there, the weather by this time being perfectly clear, I could plainly
see, to my great sorrow, the wreck of a ship cast away in the night
upon those concealed rocks which I found when I was out in my boat;
and which rocks, as they checked the violence of the stream, and made
a kind of counter stream, or eddy, were the occasion of my recovering
then from the most desperate hopeless condition that ever I had been
in all my life.

Thus, what is one man’s safety is another man’s destruction ; for it
seems these men, whoever they were, being out of their knowledge, and
the rocks being wholly under water, had been driven upon them in the
night, the wind blowing hard at east and east-north-east. Had they
seen the island, as I must necessarily suppose they did not, they must,

I thought, have endeavoured to have saved themselves on shore by

e help of their boat: but the firing of their guns for help, especially
when they saw, as I imagined, my fire, filled me with many thoughts:
first, I imagined that, upon seeing my light, they might have put them-
selves into their boat, and have endeavoured to make the shore, but
that the sea going very high, they might have been cast away: other
times I imagined, that they might have lost their boat before, as might
be the case many ways; as particularly, by the breaking of the sea
upon their ship, which many times obliges men to stave or take in
pieces their boat, and sometimes to throw it overboard with their own
hand: other times I imagined they had some other ship or ships in
company, who, upon the signals of distress they had made, had taken
them up and ,carried them off: other whiles I fancied they were all gone
off to sea in their boat, and, being hurried away by the current that I
had been formerly in, were carried out into the great ocean, where there
was nothing but misery and perishing; and that perhaps they might,
by this time, be starving, and in a condition to eat one another.

All these were but conjectures at best; so, in the condition I was in,
Icould do no more than look upon the misery of the poor men, and pity
them; which had still this good effect on my side, that it gave me more
and more cause to give thanks to God, who had so happily and comfors-
ably provided for me in my desolate condition, and that, of two ships’
companies, who were now cast away upon this part of the world, not
one lifeshould be spared but mine. I learned here again to observe,
that it is.yery rare that the providence of God casts us into any con
dition of life so low, or any misery so great, but we may see something


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE.

or other to be thankful for, and may see others in wage circumstances
than our own.

Such certainly was the case of these men, of whom I could not s0
much as see room to suppose any of them were saved; nothing could
make it rational so much as to wish or expect that they did not all
perish there, except the possibility only of their being taken up by
another ship in company: and this was but mere possibility indeed ;
for I saw not the least signal or appearance of any such thing.

I cannot explain, by any possible energy of words, what a strange
longing, or hankering of desire, I felt in my soul upon this sight;
breaking out sometimes thus: ‘Oh, that there had been but one or
two, nay, but one soul saved out of the ship, to have escaped to me,
that I might but have had one companion, one fellow-creature to have
spoken to me, and to have conversed with!’ In all the time of my
solitary life, I never felt so earnest, so strong a desire after the society
of my fellow-creatures, or so deep a regret at the want of it.

There are some secret moving springs in the affections, which, wh
they are set a-going by some object in view, or be it some object, thoug
not in view, yet rendered present to the mind by the power of imagina-
tion, that motion carries out the soul by its impetuosity to such violent
eager embracings of the object, that the absence of it is insupportable.

Such were these earnest wishings that but one man had been saved !
Oh, that it had been but one! I believe I repeated the words, “Oh,
that it had been but one!”’ a thousand times; and my desires were so
moved by it, that when I spoke the words, my hands would clench
together, and my fingers press the palms of my hands, that if I had
had any soft thing in my hand, it would have crushed it involuntarily ;
and my teeth in my head‘would strike together, and set against one
another so strong, that for some time I.could not part them again.

Let the naturalists explain these things, and the reason and manner
of them; all I can say of them is, to describe the fact, which was ever
surprising to me when I found it, though I knew not from what it
should proceed: it was doubtless the effect of ardent wishes, and of
strong ideas formed in my mind, realizing the comfort which the
conversation of-one of my fellow Christians would have been to me.

But it was not to be; either their fate, or mine, or both, forbade it;
for till the last year of my being on this island, I never knew whether
any were saved out of that ship ‘or no; and had only the aflliction,
some days after, to see the corpse of a drowned boy come on shore, at
the end of the island which was next the shipwreck: he ad- on no
clothes but a seaman’s waistcoat, a pair of opened-kneed linen-drawers
and a blue linen shirt; but nothing to direct me so much as to guess








192 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



what nation he was of. THe had nothing in his pocket but two pieces
of cight, and a tobacco pipe: the last was to me of ten times more
value than the first.

It was now calm, and I had a great mind to venture out in my boat
to this wreck, not doubting but I might find something on board that
might be useful to me; but that did not altogether press me so much,
as the possibility that there might be yet some living creature on board,
whose life I might not only save, but might, by saving that life, comfort
my own to the last degree: and this thought clung so to my heart, that
T could not be quict night nor day, but I must venture out in my boat
on board this wreck; and committing the rest to God’s providence, I
thought the impression was so strong upon my mind, that it could not
be resisted, that it must come from some invisible direction, and that I
should be wanting to myself if I did not go.

Under the power of this impression, I hastened back to my castle,
prepared every thing for my voyage, took a quantity of bread, a great
fot for fresh water, a compass to steer by, a bottle of rum, (for T had
still a great deal of that left), a basket full of raisins; and thus load-
ing myself with every thing necessary, [ went down to my boat, got the
water out of her, and got her afloat, loaded all my cargo in her, and
then went home again for more: my second cargo was a great bagful
of rice, the umbrella to set up over my head for shade, another large pot
full of fresh water, and about two dozen of my small loaves, or barley-
cakes, more than before, with a bottle of goat’s milk, and a cheese; all
which, with great labour and sweat, I brought to my boat; and praying
to God to direct my voyage, I put out, and rowing or paddling the
canoe along the shore, I came at last to the utmost point of the island,
on that side, namely, north-east. And now I was to launch out into
the ocean, and either to venture of not to venture: I looked on the
rapid currents which ran constantly on both sides of the island, at a
distance, and which were very terrible to me, from the remembrance of
the hazard I had been in before, and my heart began to fail me; for I
foresaw, that if Iwas driven into cither of those currents, I should be
carried a vast way out to sea, and perhaps out of my reach or sight of
the island again; and that then, as my boat was but small, if any little
gale of wind should rise, I should be inevitably lost.

These thoughts so oppressed my mind that I began to give over my
enterprise; and having hauled my boat into a little creek on the shore,
I stepped out, and sat me down upon a little spot of rising ground,
very pensive and anxious, between fear and desire, about my voyage ;
when, as I was musing, I could perceive that the tide was turned,
and the flood came on, upon which my going was for so many hours


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194 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



impracticable; upon this it presently occurred to me that I should go
up to the highest piece of ground I could find, and observe, if I could,
how the sets of the tide or currents lay, when the flood came in, that I
might judge whether, if I was driven one way out, I might not expect
to be driven another way home, with the same rapidness of the currents.
This thought was no sooner in my head, but I cast my eye upon a little
hill which sufficiently overlooked the sea both ways, and from whence I
had a clear view of the currents, or sets of the tide, and which way I
was to guide myself in my return; here I found, that as the current
of the ebb set out close by the south point of the island, so the current
of the flood set in close by the shore of the north side; and that I had
nothing to do but to keep to the north of the island in my return, and
I should do well enough.

Encouraged with this observation, I resolved the next morning to set
out with the first of the tide; and reposing myself for that night in the
canoe, under the great watch-coat I mentioned, I launched out. I made
first a little out to sea full north, till I began to feel the benefit of the
current, which set eastward, and which carried me at a great rate, and
yet did not so hurry me as the southern side current had done before,
and so as to take from me all government of the boat; but having a
strong steerage with my paddle, I went, I say, at a great rate, directly
for the wreck, and in less than two hours I came up to it.

It was a dismal sight to look at: the ship, which by its building was
Spanish, stuck fast, jammed in between two rocks; all the stern and
quarter of her was beaten to pieces with the sea: and as her forecastle,
which stuck in the rocks, had run on with great violence, her mainmast
and foremast were brought by the board, that is to say, broken short
off; but her boltsprit was sound, and the head and bow appeared firm.
When I came close to her, a dog appeared upon her, which, seeing me
coming, yelped and cried, and as soon as I called him, jumped into the
sea to come to me, and I took him into the boat, but found him almost.
dead for hunger and thirst: I gave him a cake of my bread, and he
ate it like a ravenous wolf that had been starving a fortnight in the
snow: I then gave the poor creature some fresh water, with which, if
I would have let him, he would have burst himself.

After this I went on board. The first sight I met with was two men
drowned in the cook-room, or forecastle of the ship, with their arms
fast about one another. I concluded, as is indeed probable, that when
the ship struck, it being in a storm, the sea broke so high, and so con-
tanually over her, that the men were not able to bear it, and were
strangled with the constant rushing in of the water, as much as if they
had beeg “uffder water. Besides the dog, there was nothing left in the
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 195



ship that had life, nor any goods that I could see, but what were
spoiled by the water: there were some casks of liquor, whether wine
or brandy I knew not, which lay lower in the hold, and which, the
water being ebbed out, I could see; but they were too big to meddle
with: I saw several chests, which I believed belonged to some of the
seamen, and I got two of them into the boat without examining what
was in them.

Had the stern of the ship been fixed, and the fore part broken off,
I am persuaded I might have made a good voyage; for by what I
found in these two chests, I had room to suppose the ship had a great
deal of wealth on board; and if I may guess by the course she steered,
she must have been bound from Buenos Ayres, or the Rio de la Plata,
in the south part of America, beyond the Brazils, to the Havanna, in
the Gulf of Mexico, and.so perhaps to Spain: she had, no doubt, a
great treasure in her, but of no use at that time to anybody; and
what became of the rest of her people I then knew not.

I found, besides these chests, a little cask full of liquor, of about
twenty gallons, which I got into my boat with much difficulty. There
were several muskets in the cabin, and a great powder-horn, with about
four pounds of powder in it: as for the muskets, I had no occasion for
them, so I left them, but took the powder-horn. I took a fire-shovel
and tongs, which I wanted extremely, as also two little brass kettles,
a copper pot to make chocolate, and a gridiron; and with this cargo,
and the dog, I came away, the tide beginning to make home again;
and the same evening, about an hour within night, I reaches the island
again, wearied and fatigued to the last degree.

I reposed that night in the boat, and in the morning I resolved to
harbour what I had gotten in my new cave, not to carry it home to my
castle. After refreshing myself, I got all my cargo on shore, and
began to examine the particulars: the cask of liquor I found to be a
kind of rum, but not such as we had at the Brazils; and, in a word,
not at all good; but when I came to open the chests, I found several
things which I wanted: for example, I found in one a fine case of bot-
tles, of an extraordinary kind, and filled with cordial waters, fine, and
very good; the bottles held about three pints each, and were tipped

with silver. I found two pots of very good succades, or sweatmeats,
%o fastened also on the top, that the salt water had not hurt them;
and two more of the same, which the water had spoiled: I found some.




very good shirts, which were very welcome to me, and about a ’ dozen me

and a half of white linen handkerchiefs and coloured neckcloths; the
former were also very welcome, being exceeding refreshing to wipe my,
face ir a het day. Besides this, when I came to the till in the che



196 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



I found there three great bags of pieces of eight, which held about
eleven hundred pieces in all; and in one of them, wrapt up in a paper,
six doubloons of gold, and some small bars or wedges of gold; I sup-
pose they might all weigh near a pound.

The other chest I found had some clothes in it, but of little value ;
but by the circumstances, it must have belonged to the gunner’s mate,
as there was no powder in it, but about two pounds of glazed powder
in the three flasks, kept, I suppose, for charging their fowling-pieces
on occasion. Upon the whole, I got very little by this voyage that
was of much use to me; for, as to the money, I had no manner of
occasion for it; it was to me as the dirt under my feet; and I would
have given it all for three or four pair of English shoes and stockings,
which were things I greatly wanted, but had not had on my feet now
for many years; I had, indeed, got two pair of shoes now, which I
took off the feet of the two drowned men whom I saw in the wreck ;
_and I found two pair more in one of the chests, which were very wel-
come to me; but they were not like our English shoes, either for ease
or service, being rather what we call pumps than shoes. I found in
the seaman’s chest about fifty pieces of eight in royals, but no gold: I
suppose this belonged to a poorer man than the other, which seemed
to belong to some officer.

Well, however, I lugged the money home to my cave, and laid it up,
as I had done that before which I brought from our own ship; but it
was great pity, as I said, that the other part of the ship had not come
to my share, for I am satisfied I might have loaded my canoe several
times over with money which, if I had ever escaped to England, would
have lain here safe enough till I might have come again and fetched it.

Having now brought all my things on shore, and secured them, I
went back to my boat, and rowed or paddled her along the shore to
her old harbour, where 1 laid her up, and made the best of my way to
my old habitation, where I found every thing safe and quiet; so I
began to repose myself, live after my old fashion, and take care of my
family affairs; and for a while I lived easy enough, only that I was
more vigilant than I used to be, looked out oftener, and did not go
abroad so much; and if at any time I did stir with any freedom, it
was always to the east part of the island, where I was pretty well
satisfied the savages never came, and where I could go without so
many precautions, and such a load of arms and ammunition as I always
sarried with me, if I went the other way.
pra

OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. — 197

CHAPTER XIV.

Reflections—An extraordinary Dream—Discover five Canoes of Savages on Shore—
Observe from my station two miserable Wretches dragged out of their Boats to be
devoured—One of them makes his escape, and runs directly towards me, pursued
by two others—I take Measures so as to destroy his Purguers and save his Life—
Christen him by the name of Friday, and he becomes a faithful and excellent Ser-
vant.

I Livep in this condition near two years more; but my unlucky
head, that was always to let me know it was born to make my body
miserable, was all these two years filled with projects and designs how,
if it were possible, I might get away from this island: for sometimes
I was for making another voyage to the wreck, though my reason told
me that there was nothing left there worth the hazard of my voyage;-
sometimes for a ramble one way, sometimes another; and I believe
verily, if I had had the boat that I went from Sallee in, I should have
ventured to sea, bound anywhere, I knew not whither.

I have been, in all my circumstances, a memento to those who are
touched with that general plague of mankind, whence, for aught I
know, one half of their miseries flow,—I mean, that of not being
satisfied with the station wherein God and nature hath placed them:
for, not to look back upon my primitive condition, and the excellent
advice of my father, the opposition to which was, as I may call #, my —
original sin, my subsequent mistakes of the same kind have been the
means of my coming into this miserable condition; for had that Pro-
vidence, which so happily had seated me at the Brazils as a planter,
blessed me with confined desires, and could I have been contented to
have gone on gradually, I might have been by this time—I mean in
the time of my being on this island—one of the most considerable
planters in the Brazils; nay, I am persuaded, that by the impro¥
ments I had made in that little time I lived there, and the increase
should probably have made if I had stayed, I might have been wort
a hundred thousand moidores: and what business had I to leave a set
tled fortune, well-stocked plantation, improving and increasingy to tite:
supercargo to Guinea, to fetch Negroes, when patience and tims
have so increased our stock at home, that we could have bought.
at ous own docrs from those whose business it was to fetch.
















a

198 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



And though it had cost us something more, yet the difference of that
price was by no means worth saving at so great a hazard.

But as this is ordinarily the fate of young heads, so reflection upon
the folly of it is as ordinarily the exercise of more years, or of the
dear bought experience of time; and so it was with me now; and yet,
so deep had the mistake taken root in my temper, that I could not
satisfy myself in my station, but was continually poring upon the
means and possibility of my escape from this place; and that I may,
with the greater pleasure to the reader, bring on the remaining part
of my story, it may not be improper to give some account of my first
conceptions on the subject of this foolish scheme for my escape; and
how, and upon what foundation, I acted.

I am now to be supposed to be retired into my castle after my late
voyage to the wreck, my frigate laid up, and secured under water as
usual, and my condition restored to what it was before: I had more
wealth, indeed, than I had before, but was not at all the richer; for I
had no more use for it than the Indians of Peru had before the
Spaniards came thither.

It was one of the nights in the rainy season in March, the four-and-
twentieth year of my first setting foot in this island of solitariness; I
was lying in my bed, or hammock, awake, and very well in health,—had
no pain, no distemper, no uneasiness of body, no, nor any uneasiness of
mind more than ordinary, but could by no means close my eyes, that is,
soas tosleep; no, not a wink all night long, otherwise than as follows:

It is as impossible as needless to set down the innumerable crowd of
thoughts that whirled through that great thoroughfare of the brain, the
memory, in this night’s time: I ran over the whole history of my life
in miniature, or by abridgment, as I may call it, to my coming to this
island; and also of that part of my life since I came to this island.
In my reflections upon the state of my case, since I came on shore on
this island, I was comparing the happy posture of my affairs, in the
first years of my habitation here, to that course of anxiety, fear, and
care, which I had lived in ever since I had seen the print of a foot in
the sand; not that I did not believe the savages had frequented the
island even all the while, and might have been several hundreds of
them at times on the shore there, but as I had never known it, and was
incapable of any apprehensions about it, my satisfaction was perfect,
though my danger was the same; and I was as happy in not knowing
my danger, as if I had never really been exposed to it.. This furnished
my thoughts with many very profitable reflections, and particularly
this one: “ How infinitely good that Providence is, which has settled
in ita government of mankind such narrow bounds to his sight and
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 199

knowledge of things; and though he walks in the midst of so mung
thousand dangers,. the sight of which, if discovered to him, would
distract his mind and sink his spirits, he is kept serene and calm, by
having the events of things hid from his eyes, and knowing nothing of
the dangers which surround him !”

After these thoughts had for some time entertained me, I came tv
reflect seriously upon the real danger I had been in for so many years
in this very island; and how I had walked about in the greatest
security, and with all possible tranquillity, even, perhaps, when nothing
but a brow of a hill, a great tree, or the casual approach of night, had
been between me and the worst kind of destruction, namely, that of
falling into the hands of cannibals and savages, who would have seized
on me with the same view as I did on a goat or a turtle, and have
thought it no more a crime to kill and devour me, than I did of a
pigeon or a curlew. I should unjustly slander myself, if I should say
I was not sincerely thankful to my great Preserver, to whose singular
protection I acknowledged, with great humility, that all these unknown
deliverances were due, and without which I should inevitably have fallen
into their merciless hands.

When these thoughts were over, my head was for some time taken
up in considering the nature of these wretched creatures, I mean the
savages; and how it came to pass in the world, that the wise Governor
of all things should give up any of his creatures to such inhumanity—
nay, to something so much below even brutality itself—as to devour its
own kind: but as this ended in some (at that time fruitless) specula-
tions, it occurred to me to inquire what part of the world these wretches
lived in; how far off the coast was from whence they came; what they
ventured so far from home for; what kind of boats they had; and why
I might not order myself, and my business, so that I might be as able
to go over thither, as they were to come to me.

I never so much as troubled myself to consider what I should do
with myself when I came thither ; what should become of me if I fell
into the hands of the savages; or how I should escape from them if
they attempted to take me; no, nor so much as hom. it; was possible for
me to reach the coast, and not be attacked by some ‘Or other of them,

without any possibility of delivering myself; and, if I should not fall’

into their hands, what I should do for provision, or whither I should |
bend my course; none of these thoughts, I say, so much as came in

my way; but my mind was wholly bent upon the notion of my passing «
over in my boat to the mainland. I looked back upon my present -

condition as the most miserable that could possibly be; that I was net
able to throw myself into any thing but death that could be calle

©



200 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



worse ; that if I reached the shore of the main, I might perhaps meet
with relief; or I might coast along, as I did on the shore of Africa,
till I came to some inhabited country, and wherc I might find some
relief ; and after all, perhaps, I might fall in with some Christian ship
that might take me in; and if the worst came to the worst, I could
but die, which would put an end to all these miseries at once. Pray,
note, all this was the fruit of a disturbed mind—an impatient temper,
made, as it were, desperate by the long continuance of my troubles,
and the disappointments I had met in the wreck I had been on board
of, and where I had been so near the obtaining of what I so earnestly
longed for, namely, somebody to speak to, and to learn some knowledge
from, of the place where I was, and of the probable means of my
deliverance,—I say, I was agitated wholly by these thoughts. All my
calm of mind in my resignation to Providence, and waiting the issue
of the dispositions of Heaven, seemed to be suspended; and I had, as
it were, no power to turn my thoughts to any thing but the project of
w voyage to the main, which came upon me with such force, and such
an impetuosity of desire, that it was not to be resisted.

When this had agitated my thoughts for two hours or more, with
such violence that it set my very blood into a ferment, and my pulse
beat as high as if I had been in a fever, merely with the extraordinary
fervour of my mind about it, nature, as if I had been fatigued and
exhausted with the very thought of it, threw me into a sound sleep:
one would have thought I should have dreamed of it; but I did not,
nor of any thing relating to it; but 1 dreamed, that as I was going
out in the morning, as usual, from my castle, I saw upon the shore two
canoes and eleven savages coming to land, and that they brought with
them another savage, whom they were going to kill, in order to eat
him, when on a sudden the savage that they were going to kill jumped
away, and ran for his life; then I thought in my sleep, that he came
running into my little thick grove, before my fortification, to hide
himself; and that I, seeing him alone, and not perceiving that the
others sought him that way, showed myself to him, and, smiling upon
him, encouraged him; that he kneeled down to me, seeming to pray
me to assist him; upon which I showed my ladder, made him go up it,
and carried him into my cave, and he became my servant; and that
as soon as I got this man, I said to myself, ‘‘Now I may certainly
venture to the mainland; for this fellow will serve me as a pilot, and
will tell me what to do, and whither to go for provisions, and whither
not to go for fear of being devoured; what places to venture into, and
what to escape.” I waked with this thought, and was under such
mexpressible impressions of joy at the prospect of my escape in my
OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 201

dream, that the disappointments which I felt upon coming to myself,
and finding that it was no more than a dream, were equally extrava-
gant the other way, and threw me into a very great dejection of
spirit.

Upon this, however, I made this conclusion, that my only way to go
about an attempt for an escape was, if possible, to get a savage in my
possession; and, if possible, it should be one of their prisoners whom
they had condemned to be eaten, and should bring hither to kill: but
these thoughts still were attended with this difficulty, that it was
impossible to effect this, without attacking a whole caravan of them,
and killing them all; and this was not only a very desperate. attempt,
and might miscarry, but, on the other hand, I had greatly scrupled the
lawfulness of it to myself, and my heart trembled at the thought of
shedding so much blood, though it was for my deliverance. I need
not repeat the arguments which occurred to me against this, they being
the same mentioned before: but though I had other reasons to offer
now, namely, that those men were enemies to my life, and would
devour me, if they could; that it was self-preservation, in the highest
degree, to deliver myself from this death of a life, and was acting in
my own defence, as much as if they were actually assaulting me, and
the like; I say, though these things argued for it, yet the thoughts of
shedding human blood for my deliverance were very terrible to me,
and such as I could by no means reconcile myself to a great while.

However, at last, after many secret disputes with myself, and after
great perplexities about it, (for all these arguments, one way and
another, struggled in my head a long time), the eager prevailing desire
of deliverance at length mastered all the rest, and I resolved, if
possible, to get one of these savages into my hands, cost what it would.
The next thing, then, was to contrive how to do it; and this indeed
was very difficult to resolve on ; but as I could pitch upon no probable
means for it, so I resolved to put myself upon the watch to see them
when they came on shore, and leave the rest to the event, taking such
measures as the opportunity should present, let it be what it would.

With these resolutions in my thoughts, I set myself upon the scout
as often as possible, and indeed so often, till I was heartily tired of it;
for it was above a year and a half that I waited, and for a great part
of that time went out to the west end and to the south-west corner
of the island, almost every day, to see for canoes, but none appeared.
This was very discouraging, and began to trouble me much; though ]
cannot say that it did in this case, as it had done some time betore
‘hat, namély, wear off the edge of my desire to the thing






202 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES





I was not at first more careful to shun the sight of these savages, and
avoid being seen by them, than I was now eager to be upon them.

Besides, I fancied myself able to manage one, nay, two or three
savages, if I had them, so as to make them entirely slaves to me, to do
whatever I should direct them, and to prevent their being able, at any
time, to do me any hurt. It was a great while that I pleased myself
with this affair, but nothing still presented; all my fancies and
schemes came to nothing, for no savages came near me for a great while.

About a year and a half after I had entertained these notions, and
by long musing had, as it were, resolved them all into nothing, for
want of an occasion to put them in execution, I was surprised one
morning early with seeing no less than five canoes all on shore together,
on my side the island, and the people who belonged to them all landed,
and out of my sight: the number of them broke all my measures; for
seeing so many, and knowing that they always came four, or six, or
sometimes more, in a boat, I could not tell what to think of it, or how
to take any measures to attack twenty or thirty men single-handed ;
so I lay still in my castle, perplexed and discomforted; however, I put
myself into all the same postures for an attack that I had formerly
provided, and was just ready for action if any thing had presented.
Having waited a good while, listening to hear if they made any noise,
at length, being very impatient, I set my guns at the foot of my lad-.
der, and clambered up to the top of the hill by my two stages, as usual,
standing so, however, that my head did not appear above the hill, so
that they could not perceive me by any means. Here I observed,
by the help of my perspective glass, that they were no less than thirty
in number; that they had a fire kindled, and that they had had meat
‘dressed: how they cooked it, that I knew not, or what it was; but
they were all dancing in I know not how many barbarous gestures and
figures, their own way, round the fire.

When I was thus looking on them, I perceived by my perspective,
two miserable wretches dragged from the boats, where, it seems, they
were laid by, and were now brought out for the slaughter: I perceived
one of them immediately fall, being knocked down, I suppose, with a
club, or wooden sword, for that was their way ; and two or three others
were at work immediately, cutting him open for their cookery, while
the other victim was left standing by himself, till they should be ready
for him. At that very moment, this poor wretch, seeing himself a
little at liberty, nature inspired him with hopes of life, and he started
away from them, and ran with incredible swiftriess along the sands,
directly towards me,—I mean towards that part of the coast where wy
habitation was. ;


OF ROBINSON CRUSCE. 203

I was dreadfully frighted (that I must acknowledge), when I per-
ceived him to run my way: and especially when, as I thought, I saw
him pursued by the whole body; and now I expected that part of my
dream was coming to pass, and that he would certainly take shelter in
my grove; but I could not depend, by any means, upon my dream for -
‘the rest of it, namely, that the other savages would not pursue him
thither, and find him there. However, I kept my station, and my
spirits began to recover, when I found that there were not above three
men that followed him; and still more was I encouraged when I found
that he outstripped them exceedingly in running, and gained ground —
of them: so that if he could but hold it for half an hour, I saw easily
he would fairly get away from them all.

There was between them and my castle the creek, which I mentioned
often at the first part of my story, when I landed my cargoes out of
the ship; and this I knew he must necessarily swim over, or the poor
wretch would be taken there: but when the savage escaping came
thither, he made nothing of it, though the tide was then up; but
plunging in, swam through in ‘about thirty strokes, or thereabouts,
landed, and ran on with exceeding strength and swiftness. When the
three pursuers came to the creek, I found that two of them could swim,
but the third could not, and that he, standing on the other side, looked
at the other, but went no farther; and soon after went softly back
again, which, as it happened, was very well for him in the main. -

I observed, that the two who swam were yet more than twice as long:
swimming over the creek as the fellow wag that fled from them. I¢ .¥
came now very warmly upon my thoughts, and indeed irresistibly, that’
now was my time to get a servant, and perhaps a companion, or assist=~
ant, and that I was called plainly by Providence to save this poor
creature's life. I immediately got down the ladders with all possible
expedition, fetched my two guns, for they were both at the foot of the
ladder, as I observed above; and getting up again with the same haste
to the top of the hill, I crossed towards the sea; and having a very.
short cut, and all down hill, clapped myself in the way between the
pursuers and the pursued, hallooing aloud to him that fled, who, took-
ing back, was at first perhaps as much frighted at me as at them;.
but I beckoned with my hand to him to come back; and in the mean
time I slowly advanced towards the two that followed; then rushing ~~
at once upon the foremost, I knocked him down with the stock of my ;
piece; I was loath to fire, because I would-not have the rest hear, ©
though at that distance it would not have been easily heard; and being -
out of sight of the smoke too, they would not have easily known wha
io make of it. Having Knaeked ae fellow down, th :




















FRIDAY IUMBLE.

204


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE.

sued him stopped, as if he had been frighted, and I advanced apace .
towards him; but as I came nearer, I perceived presently he had a
bow and arrow, and was fitting it to shoot at me: so I was then neces-
sitated to shoot at him first, which I did, and killed him at the first
shot. The poor savage who fled, but had stopped, though he saw both
his enemies fallen, and killed (as he thought), yet was so frighted
with the fire and noise of my piece, that he stood stock-still, and neither
came forward nor went backward, though he seemed rather inclined to.
fly still, than to come on. I hallooed again to him, and made signs to
come forward, which he easily understood, and came a little way, then
stopped again, and then a little farther, and stopped again; and I
could then perceive, that he stood trembling, as if he had been taken
prisoner, and had just been to be killed, as his two enemies were. I
beckoned him again to come to me, and gave him all the signs of
encouragement that I could think of; and he came nearer and nearer,
kneeling down every ten or twelve steps, in token of acknowledgment
for saving his life. I smiled at him, and looked pleasantly, and
beckoned him to come still nearer. At length he came close to me,
and then he kneeled down again, kissed the ground, and laid his head
upon the ground, and taking me by the foot, set my foot upon his
head. This, it seems, was in token of swearing to be my slave for ever.
I took him up, and made much of him, and encouraged him all I could.
But there was more work to do yet; for I perceived the savage whoa -.
I knocked down was not killed, but stunned with the blow, and began. *
to come to himself: ‘so I pointed to him, and showed him the savage,
that he was not dead; upon this he spoke some words to me; and |
though I could not understand them, yet I thought they were pleasant. * »
to hear, for they were the first sound of a man’s voice that I had heard,
my own excepted, for above five-and-twenty years. But there was no
time for such reflections now: the savage, who was knocked down,
recovered himself so far as to sit up upon the ground; and I perceived
that my savage began to be afraid; but when I saw that, I presented
my other piece at the man, as if I would shoot him: upon this my
savage, for so I called him now, made a motion to me to lend him my
sword, which hung naked in a belt by my side; so I did: he no sooner
had it, but he runs to his enemy, and at one blow cuts off his head so
cleverly, no executioner in Germany could have done it sooner or
better, which I thought very strange for one who, I had reason to
believe, never saw a sword in his life before, except their own- wooden
swords: however, it seems, as I learned afterwards, they make their
wooden swords so sharp, so heavy, and the wood is ard, jit they










206 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



too. When he had done this, he comes laughing to me in sign of tri-
umph, and brought me the sword again, and, with abundance of ges-
tures, which I did not understand, laid it down, with the head of the
savage that he had killed, just before me.

But that which astonished him most was, to know how I had killed
the other Indian so far off; so pointing to him, he made signs to me
to let him go to him; so I bade him go, as well as I could. When he
came to him, he stood like one amazed, looking ut him; turned him
first on one side, then on the other; looked at the wound -the bullet
had made, which, it seems, was just in his breast, where it had made a
hole: and no great quantity of blood had followed; but he had bled
inwardly, for he was quite dead. Then he took up his bow and arrows,
and came back: so I turned to go away, and beckoned him to follow
me, making signs to him that more might come after them.

Upon this he signed to me that he should bury them with sand, that
they might not be seen by the rest, if they followed; and so I made
signs again to him to do so. He fell to work, and in an instant he
had scraped a hole in the sand with his hands, big enough to bury the
first in, and then dragged him into it, and covered him, and did so
also by the other; I believe he had buried them both in a quarter of
an hour: then calling him away, I carried him not to my castle, but
quite away to my cave, on the farther part of the island; so I did not
let my dream come to pass in that part; namely, that he came into
my grove for shelter.

Here I gave him bread and a bunch of raisins to eat, and a draught
of water, which I found he was indeed in great distress for, by his run-
ning; and having refreshed him, I made signs for him to go lie down
and sleep, pointing to a place where I had laid a great parcel of rice-
straw, and a blanket upon it, which I used to sleep upon myself some-
times ; so the poor creature lay down, and went to sleep.

He was a comely handsome fellow, perfectly well made, with straight
long limbs, not too large, tall, and well shaped, and, as I reckon,
about twenty-six years of age. He had a very good countenance, not
a fierce and surly aspect, but seemed to have something very manly in
his face, and yet he had all the sweetness and softness of an European
in his countenance too, especially when he smiled: his hair was long
and black, not curled like wool; his forehead very high and large, and
a great vivacity and sparkling sharpness in his eyes. The colour of
his skin was not quite black, but very tawny, and yet not of an ugly
yellow nauseous tawny, as the Brazilians and Virginians, and other
natives of America, are, but of a bright kind of a dun olive colour,
that had in it something very agreeable, though not very easy to de-








CRUSOE

AND

FRIDAY.


208 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES

scribe. His face was round and plump, his nose small, not flat like
the negroes, a very good mouth, thin lips, and his tecth fine, well set,
and white as ivory. After he had slumbered, rather than slept, above
half an hour, he waked again, and comes out of the cave to me, for I
had been milking my goats, which I had in the enclosure just by:
when he espied me, he came running to me, laying himself down again
upon the ground, with all the possible signs of an humble thankful
disposition, making many antic gestures to show it. At last he lays
his head flat upon the ground, close to my foot, and sets my other foot
upon his head, as he had done before; and, after this, made all the
signs to me of subjection, servitude, and submission imaginable, to let
me know how much he would serve me as long as he lived. I under-
stood him in many things, and let him know I was very well pleased
with him. In a little time I began to speak to him, and teach him to
speak to me; and first, I made him know his name should be Friday,
which was the day I saved his life, and I called him so for the memory
of the time: I likewise taught him to say Master, and then let him
know that was to be my name: I likewise taught him to say Yes and
No, und to know the meaning of them. I gave him some milk in an
earthen pot, and let him sce me drink it before him, and sop my bread
in it; and I gave him a cake of bread to do the like, which he quickly
complied with, and made signs that it was very good for him.

I kept there with him all that night: but as soon as it was day, I
beckoned him to come with me, and let him know I would give him
some clothes, at which he seemed very glad, for he was stark naked.
As we went by the place where he had buried the two men, he pointed
exactly to the spot, and showed me the marks that he had made to find
them again, making signs to me that we should dig them up again and
eat them: at this I appeared very angry, expressed my abhorrence of
it, made as if I would vomit at the thoughts of it, and beckoned with
my hand to him to come away, which he did immediately, with great
submission. I then led him up to the top of the hill, to see if his ene-
mies were gone, and pulling out my glass, I looked, and saw plainly
the place where they had been, but no appearance of them or'of their
canoes; so that it was plain that they were gone, and had left their
two comrades behind them, without any search after them.

But I was not content with this discovery: but having now more
courage, and consequently more curiosity, I took my man Friday with
me, giving him the sword in his hand, with the bow and arrows at his
back, which I found he could use very dexterously, making him carry
one gun for me, and I two for myself, and away we marched to the
place where these creatures had been; for I had a mind now to ges


OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 209



some fuller intelligence of them. When I came to the place, my very
blood ran chill in my veins, and my heart sank within me at the horror
of the spectacle: indeed it was a dreadful sight, at least it was so to
me, though Friday made nothing of it: the place was covered with
human bones, the ground dyed with the bleod, great pieces of flesh
left here and there, half eaten, mangled, and scorched; and, in short,
all the tokens of the triumphant feast they had been making there,
after a victory over their enemies. I saw three skulls, five hands, and
the bones of three or four legs and feet, and abundance of other parts
of the bodies; and Friday, by his signs, made me understand, that
they brought over four prisoners to feast upon; that three of them
were eaten up, and that he, pointing to himself, was the fourth; that
there had been a great battle between them and their next king,
whose subjects, it seems, he had been one of; and that they had taken
a great number of prisoners, all which were carried to several places
by those that had taken them in the fight, in order to feast upon
them, as was done here by these wretches upon those they brought
hither.

I caused Friday to gather all the skulls, bones, flesh, and whatever
remained, and lay them together on a heap, and make a great fire
upon it, and burn them all to ashes. I found Friday had still a
hankering stomach after some of the flesh, and was still a cannibal in
his nature; but I discovered so much abhorrence at the very. thoughts
of it, and at the least appearance of it, that he durst*fat discover it ;
for I had, by some means, let him know that I wouldskill him if. he
offered it.

When we had done this, we came back to our castle, and there I
fell to work for my man Friday; and first of all, I gave him a pair of
linen drawers, which I had out of the poor gunner’s chest I mentioned,
and which I found in the wreck; and which, with a@ little alteration,
fitted him very well; then I made him a jerkin of goat’s skin, as well
as my skill would allow, and I was now grown a tolerable good tailor;
and I gave him a cap, which I had made of a hare’s skin, very con-
venient, and fashionable enough: and thus he was dressed, for the
present, tolerably well, and mighty well was he pleased to see himself,



almost as well clothed as his master. It is true, he went awkwardly’ sie

in these things at first; wearing the drawers was very awkward to
him, and the sleeves of the waistcoat galled his shoulders and the in-
side of his arms; but a little easing them where he complained they
hurt him, and using himself to them, at length he took to them very:
well.

The next day after I came home to my hutch with him, T Dogar to:
14 ;


210 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



consider where I should lodge him; and that I might do well for him,
and yet be perfectly easy myself, I made a little tent for him in the
vacant place between my two fortifications, in the inside of the last,
and in the outside of the first: and as there was a door or entrance
there into my cave, I made a formal framed door-case, and a door to
it of boards, and set it up in the passage, a little within the entrance ;
and causing the door to open on the inside, I barred it up in the
night, taking in my ladders too; so that Friday could no way come
at me in the inside of my innermost wall, without making so much
noise in getting over, that it must needs awaken me; for my first wall
had now a complete roof over it of long poles, covering all my tent,
and leaning up to the side of the hill, which was again laid cross with
small sticks instead of laths, and then thatched over a great thickness
with the rice straw, which was strong like reeds; and at the hole or
place which was left to go in or out by the ladder, I had placed a kind
of trap-door, which, if it had been attempted on the outside, would
not have opened at all, but would have fallen down, and made a
great noise; and as to weapons, I took them all into my side every
night.

But I needed none of all this precaution; for never man had a
more faithful, loving, sincere servant, than Friday was to me; without
passions, sullenness, or designs; perfectly obliging and engaging ; his.
very affections were tied to me like those of a child to a father; and
I dare say, he would have sacrificed his life for the saving mine, upon
any occasion whatsoever: the many testimonies he gave me of this.
put it out of doubt, and soon convinced me, that I needed to use no
precautions as to my safety on his account.

This frequently gave me occasion to observe, and that with wonder,
that, however it had pleased God in his providence, and in the govern-
ment of the works of his hands, to take from so great a part of the
world of his creatures the best uses to which their faculties and the
powers of their souls are adapted; yet that he has bestowed upon
them the same powers, the same reason, the same affections, the same
gentiments of kindness and obligation, the same passions and resent-
ments of wrongs, the same sense of gratitude, sincerity, fidelity, and
all the capacities of doing good, and receiving good, that he has given
to us; and that, when he pleases to offer them occasions of exerting
these, they are as ready, nay, more ready, to apply them to the right
uses for which they were bestowed, than we are. And this made me
very melancholy sometimes, in reflecting, as the several occasions pre-
sented, how mean a use we make of all these, even though we have
these powers enlightened by the great lamp of instruction, the Spirit
mit io

OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 231



of God, and by the sigoloane of his word, idea to our understand-
ing; and why it has pleased God to hide the like saving knowledge
from so many millions of souls, who, if I might judge by this poor
savage, would make a much better use of it than we did.

From hence I sometimes was led too far to invade the sovereignty
of Providence, and as it were arraign the justice of so arbitrary a
disposition of things, that should hide that light from some, and reveal
it to others, and yet expect a like duty from both; but I shut it up,
and checked my thoughts with this conclusion,—first, that we do not
know by what light and law these should be condemned; but that as
God was necessarily, and by the nature of his being, infinitely holy and
just, so it could not be but that, if these creatures were all sentenced
to absence from himself, it was on account of sinning against that light,
which, as the Scripture says, was a law to themselves, and by such rules
as their consciences would acknowledge to be just, though the founda-
tion was not discovered to us: and, secondly, that still, as we are all
clay in the hand of the potter, no vessel could say to him, ‘‘ Why hast
thou formed me thus?”

But to return to my new companion: I was greatly delighted with
him, and made it my business to teach him every thing that was proper
to make himself useful, handy, and helpful; but especially to make him
speak, and understand me when I spake: and he was the aptest scholar
that ever was; and particularly was so merry, so constantly diligent,
and so pleased when he could but understand me, or make me under-
stand him, that it was very pleasant to me to talk to him. And now
my life began to be so easy, that I began to say to myself, that could
I but have been safe from more savages, I cared not if I was never to
remove from the place where I lived.

CHAPTER XV.

1 am at great pains to instruct Friday respecting my abhorrence of the Gonnibal,, s
practices of the Savages—He is amazed at the effects of the Gun, and an intelligent Being—Begins to talk English tolerably—A Dialogue—I instruct hia --
in the knowledge of Religion, and find him very apt—He describes to me gue
Men who had come to his country, and still lived there.



‘wierd 05
Arter I had been two or three days returned to my castle, I thought.

that, in order to bring Friday off from his horrid way of feeding, ¢
. fror the relish of a cannibal’s stomach, I ought to Jet him taste. osfie



212 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES



flesh; so I took him out with me one morning to the woods: I went,
indeed, intending to kill a kid out of my own flock, and bring it home
and dress it; but as I was going, I sawa shc-goat lying down in the
shade, and two young kids sitting by her. I catched hold of Friday:
“ Hold.” said T, ‘stand still;’’ and made signs to him not to stir.
Immediately 1 presented my piece, shot, and killed one of the kids
The poor ereature, who had at a distance indeed seen me kill the
savage his enemy, but did not know, or could imagine how it was done,
was sensibly surprised, trembled, and shook, and looked so amazed, that
T thought he would have sunk down: he did not see the kid I had shot
at, or perceived I had killed it, but ripped up his waistcoat to feel if
he was not wounded; and, as I found, presently thought I was resolved
to kill him; for he came and kneeled down to me, and embracing my
knees, said a great many things I did not understand; but I could
easily see that his meaning was to pray me not to kill him.

I soon found a way to convince him that I would do him no harm;
and taking him up by the hand, laughed at him, and pointing to the kid
which I had killed, beckoned to him to run and fetch it, which he did;
and while he was wondering and looking to see how the creature was
killed, I loaded my gun again, and by and by I saw a great fowl, like a
hawk, sit upon a tree within shot; so to let Friday understand a little
what I would do, I called him to me again, pointing at the fowl, which
was indeed a parrot, though I thought it had been a hawk,—I say,
pointing to the parrot, and to my gun, and to the ground under the
parrot, to let him see I would make him fall, I made him understand
that I would shoot and kill that bird; accordingly I fired, and bid him
look, and immediately he saw the parrot fall: He stood like one
frighted again, notwithstanding all that I had said to him; and I found
he was the more amazed, because he did not see me put any thing into
the gun; but thought there must be some wonderful fund of death and
destruction in that thing, able to kill man, beast, bird, or any thing,
near or far off; for the astonishment this created in him was such as
could not wear off for a long time; and I believe, if I would have
let him, he would have worshipped me and my gun. As for the gun
itself, he would not so much as touch it for several days after; but
would speak to it and talk to it, as if it had answered him, when he
was by himself; which, as I afterwards learned of him, was to desire it
not to kill him.

Well, after his astonishment was a little over at this, I pointed to him
to run and fetch the bird I had shot, which he did, but stayed some
time; for the parrot, not being quite dead, had fluttered a good way
off from the place where she fell; however, he found her, took her up,
oe



——

Tenatin o-


214 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES





and brought her to me; and, as I had perceived his ignorance about
the gun before, I took this advantage to charge the gun again, and not
let him see me do it, that I might be ready for any other mark that
might present; but nothing more offered at that time: so I brought
home the kid; and the same evening I took the skin off, and cut it out
as well as I could, and having a pot for that purpose, I boiled or stewed
some of the flesh, and made some very good broth. After I had begun
to eat some, I gave some to my man, who seemed very glad of it, and
liked it very well; but that which was strangest to him was, to see me
eat salt with it. He made asign to me that the salt was not good to
eat; and putting a little into his own mouth, he seemed to nauseate it,
and would spit and sputter at it, washing his mouth with fresh water
after it. On the other hand, I took some meat in my mouth without
salt, and I pretended to spit and sputter for want of salt, as fast as he
had done at the salt; but it would not do, he would never care for salt
with meat, or in his broth; at least not a great while, and then but a
very little.

Having thus fed him with boiled meat and broth, I was resolved to
feast him the next day with roasting a piece of the kid: this I did by
hanging it before the fire in a string, as I had seen many people do in
England, setting two poles up, one on each side of a fire, and one cross
on the top, and tying the string to the cross stick, letting the meat run
continually: this Friday admired very much; but when he came to
taste the flesh, he took so many ways to tell me how well he liked it,
that I could not but understand him; and at last he told me he would
never eat man’s flesh any more, which I was very glad to hear.

The next day I set him to work to beating some corn out, and sifting
it in the manner I used to do, as I observed before; and he soon
understood how to do it as well as I, especially after he had seen what
the meaning of it was, and that it was to make bread of; for after that
I let him see me make my bread, and bake it too; and in a little time
Friday was able to do all the work for me, as well as I could do it
myself.

I began now to consider, that, having two mouths to feed instead of
one, I must provide more ground for my harvest, and plant,a larger
quantity of corn than I used to do; so I marked out a larger piece of
land, and began the fence in the same manner as before, in which
Friday not only worked very willingly and very hard, but did it very
cheerfully; and I told him what it was for, that it was for corn to
make more bread, because he was now with me, and that I might have
enough for him and myself too: he appeared very sensible of that part,
and Jet me know that he thought I had much moré labour upon me oa

ts se
ae ie .


< OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. 215



his account than I had for myself, and that he would work the harder
for me, if I would tell him what to do.