ROBINSON YOUNGER R THE USE YOUNG PERSON - Mr. ). H. CAMPE FROM THE GERMAN REVISED AND CORRECTED TO WHICH IS ADDED DULCH EX ANATION ARTES 1837. SCIENTIA VERITAS LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN PLURIOUS UNI UNUM TUEBOR "SIQUÆRIS PENINSULAM-AMⱭINAM CIRCUMSPICE GIFT OF REGENT LLHUBBARD Hubbard Imag. Voy. PT 1832 .C8 R73 1816a ROBINSON 22/997 THE - 1158562 YOUNGER FOR THE USE OF YOUNG PERSONS BY MR. J. H. CA M P E. PE. TRANS I AT ED FROM THE GERMAN REVISED AND CORRECTED, TO WHICH IS ADDED & ▲ DUTCH EXPLANATION OF THE WORDS, } ZUTPHEN, PRINTED BY AND FOR H. C. A. THIEME. 18 16. VOORBERIGT. Aay Ak. Figent && Hubbard 8-2-38 De e Robinſon van CAMPE is algemeen met lof bekend. De belangrijkheid van het onderwerp en de bevalligheid van deszelfs voordragt, zalke we- zenlijke vereischten in een leesboek voor jonge lieder, hebben dat werkje tot eene geliefkoosde lektuur gemaakt, niet flechts voor de Duitfche jeugd, maar ook voor die van andere volken. Van hier de overzettingen in de meeste levende talen, en de bijzondere graagte, waarmede die vertalingen, over het geheel, ontvangen zijn. Slechts eene overzetting van CAMPE'S Robin- fon in het Engelsch bleef nog eene behoefte. Het zij vooringenomenheid met den Engelfchen Ro- binfon Crufoe, of andere redenen, CAMPE'S werkje bleef in Engeland onbekend, en het is op het vaste land, dat eene vertolking van het- zelve ondernomen is. De uitgever was voorne→ om zelf in die behoefte te doen voor- mens, zien, en had de taak tot dat einde reeds aan een kundig man opgedragen, toen hij vernam, dat er in Duitschland zoodanig eene overzetting beflond, welke, na onderzoek, bleek, vrij wel uitgevoerd te zijn. De- VOOR BERIGT. Deze overzetting is in den tegenwoordigen En- gelfchen druk gevolgd, maar nagezien en verbe- terd, daar waar de zin van het Hoogduitsch cene andere, meer eigenaardige, omzetting in het En- gelsch vorderde. Verder heeft men de, onder elke bladzijde geplaatfte, phrafeologie vervangen door een woordenboekje, achter aan het werkje gevoegd: iets dat ter aanwakkering van de vlijt der jonge lieden, op het voetfpoor der leesboe- ken van den beroemden GEDICKE, oneindig veel gopaster is. Dat, voor het overige, dit Leesboek, hetwelk benevens het Engelsch leesboek van GE- DICKE (waarvan bij den Uitgever dezes een twee- de verbeterde druk uitgegeven is), als leesboe- ken voor eenen eerften curfus der Engelfche taal, inzonderheid gefchikt zijn, en met veel voordeel door de jeugd, in hunne oefening van het En- gelsch op de fcholen, moge gebruikt worden, is de hartelijke wensch van den Uitgever. PRE- PREFACE. If the different intentions, which I had in com- posing these sheets, do not entirely prove abor- tive, the book which I here present to the pu- blic, will be useful in more than one respect. I'll display these intentions in a few words, that every one may be enabled, to compare them with the execution, and this will likewise be advanta- geous in shewing to inexperienced instructors the which according to my wishes should be use made of this work. In the first place, I intended to entertain my young readers in as agreeable a manner as possi ble; well knowing, that the hearts of children are always open to receive useful instructions. they are chearful and gay, when they are nor do I doubt, but I have tolerably attained this my first view. In the second place, I designed to annex to the thread of the narration, which forms the ba- sis of this book, so much elenrental knowledge, as was consistent with my first view. By elemen- tal knowledge I do not mean literary elements but such as ought to precede literary or scienti- fic elements; viz, all those initial ideas of things * 2 QC- 4 PREFACE. occurring in domestic life, in nature, and in the extensive circle of ordinary human activity, with- out which every other instruction resembles a building without foundation. Thirdly, I intended occasionally to insert ma- ny necessary rudiments of natural history, be- cause I found them in my way. For, why in- stead of the fictions, with which the original his- tory of Robinson is filled, might I not rather take real objects, real productions and phoeno- mena of nature relative to the part of the world in question as I could have them both at the same price, and they answer'd the same purpose? This is one reason, why I could make no great use of old Robinson's history, in composing mine. Many others will he found hereafter. My fourth and most important view was, to arrange the circumstances and adventures so, as to be productive of many moral remarks and na- tural occasions for pious and religious sentiments, adapted to the understanding and the minds of children. This often put me under a necessity to create materials, and. to deviate from the ori- ginal history. " To use this book therefore only as an exercise in reading for young children, (which generally is not their most agreeable occupation) would highly frustrate my most sanguine wishes; viz, to PREFACE. 5 to sow the seeds of virtue, piety and resignation in the ways of divine providence, into the minds of children. Grown people, who love the con- versation of children, are to read it to them • and give it into the hands of those children onl wo have already acquired a competent fluency in reading. g My fifth view had reference to the now raging epidemic, mental disease, which for some years has caused such dreadful depredations on all our bodily and mental faculties, to the visible dimi- nution of the sum of human joys in life. I mean that fatal sentimental fever. Though heaven be praised the rage of this moral disease has in so much abated, as to be no longer a pesti- lence that destroys at noon day, because no one dares any longer boast of affected sensibility; but nevertheles it remains to the present day, a dis- temper lurking in the dark, and like other shame- ful distempers, is preying on the health of the human soul. Nothing affected me more than to see, how some authors were endeavouring to infuse the sweet flattering poison of this sickness into our offspring, which would have render'd the next generation just as sickly in mind and body, as enervated, as dissatisfied with them- selves, with the world, and with divine provi- dence as the present. Whilst I was considering what migt prove the most efficacions antidote * 5 against 6 PREFACE. : against this contagion, my mind was struck with the idea of a book, that might be an antipode to the over- affected sentimental books of our times; a book that might reclaim the minds of children from that chimerical Arcadia, which exists no where, and to which they are allured by some and bring them back to that world we really inhabit, and from thence to the original state of humanity, from which we have deviated: a book, which might rouse and strengthen many a dormant, physical and moral faculty of man; a book, indeed as entertaining and attractive as any other, though not like so many others,mere- ly for idle contemplations and trifling emotions, a book but might lead to immediate activity; that might direct the inclination, which young children have to imitate every thing they sce or hear, which inclination is the first that ari- ses in us) towards those objects, which proper- ly belong to our destination, I allude to inven- tions and occupations to supply our natural wants; a book, which might shew the contrast between these natural wants of man, and those that are only artificial and imaginary, between the true relations, things bear to our happiness, and those that are merely santastic, a book, in fine, in which young and old might grasp as it were felicity of social life notwithstanding all its wants and unavoidable limitations; a book, which might > PREF AGE. 饰 ​"; might encourage every one to be satisfied with his condition, to exert every social virtue, and to show his inmost gratitude to divine providence. Whilst I was reflecting upon such a book, and anxiously looking about for a man that might give it us; I recollected, that Rousseau (pea- ce be with his great departed soul!) once wish- ed for such a book and a book and how did my pulse beat! had partly discovered it. Instantly I ran for the second volume of his Emile, looked for the hint, and found it again in these words: Should there not be some means, to con- centrate so many different books, and to unite them under one common head easily to over- looked, usefully pursued, and apt to serve as a spur, even to the present age? If a situation could be found, in which all the natural wants of man, were displayed and seen in a manner, utable and adapted to the infant mind, and in which the means of supplying these wants were by ingenuity and a lively imagination hit upon and discovered; the natural and animated des- cription of such a situation would give a child occasion to exert the power of his imagination.” Zealous philosopher, I see your imagination already inflamed; don't put yourself to any ex- pence; this situation is found, is described al- ready, and without depreciating your merit much better than you would have done, at lerst " with PREFA C E. with more truth and simplicity. As we need have books, there exists one, which in my opinion, is the most successful treatise of a natural edu- cation. This will be the first book that my Emile shall read; it will for a long time be his whole library and always have a considerable place in it. It will be the text, to which all ? our conversations of natural sciences will serve as a commentary. It will serve as a touchstone to our imagination and as long as our taste be uncorrupted, the perusing of it will always delight us. What then, What then, may this wonderful book be? It is Aristotle, Pliny, Buffon? No, it is Robinson Crusoe."? Robinson Crusoe, alone in his island, without the least assistance of any instrument of Art *), is nevertheless occupied in providing for his subsistence, for his preservation, and even procures himself a very comfortable state of life. This is an important object for every age, and there are a thousand means of rendering it agree- able to children: imperceptibly, we give a real existence to the desert island, served me as a comparison only. which at first This situation, I must confess, is not that of a social man, and pro- *In this Mr. Rousseau is mistaken. Old Robinson had saved a umber of tools from the wreck, whereas our younger Robinson had no- thing but his hands and his head, to provide for his subsistence. PREFACE. 9 probably will never be Emile's: but he is to make a true estimate of all other situations from that helpless condition. The surest means of rai- sing one's self above any prejudice, and of framing one's judgment according to the true proportions of things, is, to place one's self in the situation of an individual, and to judge of every thing so, as such a man would have done with regard to his own interest." "" This novel then, disencumbered of all its superfluities, beginning at Robinson's ship- wreck his island, near and ending with the arrival of the ship he embarks in, will during the time in question here, be Emile's amu- sement and instruction. I'll have his head turn giddy with it, see him busied with his castle, goats and plantations, I'll have him learn mi- nutely, not from books, but from the things: themselves what to do in the like situation. Let him fancy himself in Robinson's place, cloathed, like him, in skins, wearing a great cap, a broad sword by his side, with all the old equipage of the picture, even to the umbrella, which he'll never want, I'll have him be anxious about the measures, he is to take, in case he should come to want one or the other of these things;~ I'l have him examine the conduct of his hero, exa- mine whether he has not neglected any thing whether he might not have arranged some things * 5 het- 10 29 PREF A C E. FAC better; I'll have him be a strict observer of all Robinson's faults, and learn how to avoid them, were he in the same situation. For there is not the least doubt of his forming such a plan to himself. This is the true castle in the air, of that happy age, in which no other happiness is known, than to possess what is necessary and to enjoy freedom.” What resources this fiction affords to an able man, who invented it only for the most laudable purposes! The child, forced to make a storehouse for his island, will be more eager in learning, than master in teaching. He will be desirous of knowing all what is and may be useful, and desire no more. There will be no need of leading him any longer, but only to check him in his way. The perfor- mance of the natural arts, to which one man alone will be sufficient, leads to the investigation of those arts of industry and skill, which require the con- currence of many hands,' ވ . Thus far Rousseau. And has this wonderful book, we hitherto seem- ed to want, been in the world these many years? Yes! and no! According as either the general idea, or the execution of such a book be meant. The former (which Rousseau speaks of), does exist, has long existed, and its title is Robin- son Crusoe; but alas the latter is still wanting. For I think it is needless to observe, that so much prolix, superfluous chat, that fullsome overstrain- ed PREFACE, 11 ed style, and that obsolete and often faulty lan- guage of old german translations, are by no means desirable qualities in a book for children, no more than its defects with regard to morality. Besides this, we find something in the history of old Robinson, which destroys one of the chief advantages, that might have been attained by that history; I mean Robinson's being pro- vided with all the necessary european instruments, to procure him many of those conveniencies, so- cial life affords among civilized people. By this, the great advantage of giving a young reader a striking picture of all the wants of a solitary man, and of the many blessings of society, is entirely lost. This is another reason, why I thought fit to deviate from the original Robinson. I therefore divided the whole history of my young Robinson's stay in his inland, into three periods. In the first, I would have him quite alone, without any of the european utensils, shifting for himself, by the only means of his understanding and hands, to show how helpless a solitary man is ; is; and then, how much thinking and continued en- deavours are able to contribute to the amendment of our situation. In the second, gave him a com- panion, to shew, how much the situation of man, may he improved by society alone. Finally in the third, an european ship is cast away upon his shore, to provide him with utensils and most of the 12 PREFACE. ... the necessaries of life, to enhance the value of so many things, which we consider as trifles, because we never felt the want of them. This first volume then, contains the solitary life of young Robin- son, and the second the continuation and conclu- sion of the history. Before I leave my readers, I take the liberty of making young instructors attentive to a secondary intention, which in the execution of this work seem- ed very important to me, viz: to give beginners in the art of education, by true family scenes, an interesting example of the relation between parents and children, and which ought likewise to subsist between the instructor and his pupil. When this relation, is once well established, many of these obstacles, usually attending on education will dis- appear of themselves: but when it is not, recourse must be had to the compass of education, the de- viations of which are so manifold, and not yet all sufficiently ascertained by observations. Lastly, this is the reason why I rather chose to introduce real than fictious persons, and to transcribe real than compose artificial dialogues. ROBINSON THE YOUNGER. There was 1) once a numerous family, consisting 2) of young and elderly people. These were 3) closely united together, partly by the ties of nature, and partly by mutual affection. The father and mother of the family loved them all as their own children, tho Charlotte alone, the least of them, was their daughter; and two friends of the house, R. and B., did 4) the same. They resided in the country, not far from the gates of Hamburgh. The motto of this family was: Pray and work! and none of them knew 5) any other happineſs but what resulted from the accomplishment of this precept. But during their daily toils and after they were accomplished, all desired to hear something, that might 6) contribute, to render them more sensible, wiser and better; then the father would 7) relate them histories, tales etc. and the young folks hearkened to him with great attention. The following history of Robinson the younger, is one of those evening tales. As it was probable, there might be more good children, desirous of hearing or reading this remarkable history, the father wrote 8) it down and two thousand copies of it were printed. A The 1) to be. 2) to consist. 3) to be. 4) to do. 5) to know. 6) may 7) will. 8) to write. 2 The book, my good child, you now have in your hands, is one of them > and you may therefore directly - begin at the following page, if you chuse it. But I had 9) almost forgotten 10) what preceded this re- lation. Will you not tell us something, father?" said Theophilus, on a fine summer's evening. With all my but it were a pity, to pafs so heart," was the answer; " fine an evening in doing nothing, but looking through the windows. Come, let us sit down on the grafsplat!" Oh that's fine, very fine! they all cried, running hasti ly out of doors. g) to have. 10) to forget, FIRST FIRST EVENING. Theophilus. Here, Papa? Father. Yes, here under this apple tree. Nicholas. Oh, excellent! All. Excellent, most excellent! (Jumping about and clapping their hands.) Father. But what do you intend to do, whilst I am tel- ling you a ſtory; I dare say you will not sit there quite idle? John. No, if we had but something to do.. Mother. Here are 11) pease to shell! Here are french beans to string who will have any? All. I INI!I! Theophilus. I and my Charlotte, and you Frederic wilk shell pease, shall we not? Charlotte. No! I thank you, I must first make the braid- stitch, Mama shewed me. Theophilus. Well, we two thent come Frederic! sit down. Friend R. 1'll 12) work with you. (Sitting down by them on the graſs.) Friend R. And I with you; you have no objection, I dare say? Dick. Oh no! no! here is room enough. That's excel. lent! Now we will see, who can string most! Father. Place yourselves so, that you can see the sun go down, it will be a glorious sight this evening. A 3 3x) to be. 12) i. e. I will. They 4 (They all seat themselves and commence their work.) Father. Now, my children, I will tell you a very won. derful story at times your hair will stand on end, and then your hearts will beat with delight. Theophilus. Oh, but don't *) let it be too melancholy! Charlotte. No, not too melancholy, d'ye †) hear, Pa- pa? otherwise it will certainly make us cry, and then we can't 5) help it. John. Well, give over! Papa will know what he is to tell. Father. Fear nothing, my children; I'll take care, that it shall not be too mournful. There was once a man in Hamburgh, whose name was Robinson. He had three sons. The eldest, who had a mind to be a soldier, inlisted, and was killed in a battle against the French. The second applied to learning; one day being overhea ted, he drank d) a cold draught, which threw e) him into a consumption and carried him off. The youngest, who was called Crusoe, I don't know, on what account, was the only surviver. In him Mr. and Mrs. Robinson placed all their hopes, as he was now their only child; they loved him to excefs, but their love was in consistent with reason. Theophilus. What's the meaning of that, Papa ? Father. You shall hear. We love you also, you know; but for that very reason we encourage you to work, and teach you many agreeable and useful things, because we know, it will render you good and happy. But Crusoe's parents did f) not so. Their darling son had his own will as he rather chose to in every thing he did, and now, play, than work and learn, he was allowed to play almost the *) i. e. do not. †) i. e. do you. 5) i. e. can not. d) to drink. e) to throw. f) to do. 5 the whole day and so learned little or nothing. This is, what sensible people call unreasonable love. Theophilus. Ah! now I understand it.' Father: Thus, young Robinson grew g) up, and nobody knew, what he would be fit for. His father wished he might apply to commerce, but he had no liking to it. He said, he would rather travel through the wide world, that he might daily see and hear many new things. But this was inadvertently spoken h) by the young man. Nay, if he had been i) diligent in learning, it would have done! But what could an ignorant boy, like this Crusoe, do in the wide world? If a man intend to make his way in foreign regions, he must first acquire a sufficient stock of knowledge and that was, what he had not yet thought ) of · He was now already seventeen years of age, and had spent 1) most of his time in running about. Every day he was teas- ing his father, to give him permission to travel : his father answered he was a fool, and that he would not listen to him. Son! son! his mother would cry, stay in thy country and get an honest livelihood. One day Charlotte. Now we shall hear it! Nicholas Oh! silence! Father. One day, when according to his custom, he was loitering about the port, he met m) with one of his com- rades, who was son to a captain of a ship, and just ready to go with his father to London. Frederic. In a coach? { Dick. No, Frederic! to go to London they must croſs a large water, on board of a ship, which water is called the North - Sea. Well Papa? Father. His comrade asked him, if he would go along • A 3 with g) to grow. h) to speak, i) to be. k) to think. 7) to ſpend. m) to meet. 6 with him? With all my heart; answer'd Crusoe, but my parents will not permit me. Why, replied the other, come along with us, for sport's sake! We shall be back again in three weeks time, and you may inform your parents of what is become of you. 59 "' He But I bave no money about me!" said Crusoe Ne ver mind," answered the other;,, I'll pay your expences." Young Robinson hesitated a few moments; took n) bis comrade by the hand and cried out: ;, Done! I'll go with you, my boy! come let's o) go quickly on board!" then found p) some person, to tell his father some hours after, that he had only taken a trip over to England and would soon be back. And now these two friends went q) together on board. John. Fie! I don't like this Robinson, Nicholas. Nor I neither. Friend B. But why not? John. Why, because he can go away from his parents, without their permission. Friend B. You are right, John! it was indeed very stupid of him, and we must pity his stupidity. Happily, there are not many young folks, so filly as not to know. their duty towards their parents, Nicholas. Are there any more such, do you think? Friend B. I, for my part, never met with any; but what I know for certain, is that such young simpletons, who for get, what they owe to their parents, can never prosper in the world, weighed John. Well, let us hear, what became of Robinson. Father. The sailors or the ship's crew anchor, and hoisted the sails, and when the wind filled them, the captain took his farewell of the town by firing #) to take. ) i. e. let us. p) to find. g) to go. r) to be, six 7 six guns. Young Robinson, being on deck with his friend, was almost out of his wits with joy, that he was at last going to see the world. The day was very fine, and the wind so favourable, that in a short space of time they lost s) sight of the town of Hamburgh. The next day they arrived off Rittzebuttle, where the Elb falls into the sea, the open sea. and now they entered into when he saw t) nothing but The land, he departed from, degrees. Now he could see How Robinson was amazed, sky and water before him! began u) to disappear by nothing more of it but the large beacon; which Hamburgh keeps on the island of Helgoland. This also disappeared in a short time, and now he saw nothing but the heavens above him and water on all sides. Theophilus. What a prospect that must be! Friend R. Perhaps you will enjoy it in a short time. Theophilus. How so? Friend R. If you be very attentive in your geographical lessons, and learn, what roads to keep, in going from one place to another Father. Yes, and if by working and temperance in eat- ing and drinking you harden your constitutions every day that you may be able to bear the fatigue of such a jour. ney, we may one day or other make a tour to Trayemund 80, on the Baltic sea All Oh! Oh! Father. There we go on board a ship, and sail a cou ple of miles out at sea. (Here they all sprung up from the ground, embraced the father's neck, arms and knees, arms and knees, expressing their joy by caresses, clapping with their hands, hopping and jumping about.) · s) to lose. f) to see. %) to begin. A 4 Mo- 8 Mother. Will you not take me along with you? Charlotte. Ay, if you can walk so far! ry far But it is ve- is not it, Papa? perhaps farther than Wans-: beck, where Mr. Claudius lives, and another gentleman, who has a large house and garden oh, so large, so large! much larger than our garden; I have been there al- ready, have n't I, Papa? when we were looking about the fields for fine pebbles and Father. Where we saw how the people plough'd Charlotte. Ay, and where we went) into the smith's shop, by the road-side Father. Ay, and where we mounted up to the wind- mill Charlotte. Ah, yes! where the wind blew my hat off Father. Which the muller's boy brought back to you. Charlotte. That was a very good boy, was not he Papa? Father. A very good boy, indeed, who was so ready to do us a favour, altho' he had never seen w) us before! Charlotte You gave x) him something, did y) not you, Papa ? -L Father. To be sure, 1 did! Every one likes to oblige and reward good people, who behave kindly towards us. But we forget our Robinson; we must make haste to over- take him, otherwise we shall lose sight of him. For his ship sails exceedingly fast. Weather and wind continued fine and favourable for two days. On the third the sky became z) cloudy. It grew a) darker and darker, and the wind began to blow very violently. Now it lightened so, as if the sky was on fire; then it grew again as dark as at midnight, and the thunder did The rain fell down in torrents, not cease to roar. *) and a most *) to go. *) to see. r) to give. y) to do, z) to become, a) to grow. 9 most dreadful storm agitated the sea in such a manner, that the waves went b) mountains high. There you should c) have seen how the ship rolled up and down! One wave carried her up to the sky, another precipitated her again as it were into an abyfs; a while she lay d) on one side, then again on the other. What a noise in the rigging! what a cracking in the whole ship! The people were obliged to hold themselves, for fear of falling every moment. Robinson not used to all this, grew dizzy, began to vomit and grew so sick, that he thought e) he should have died. This they call sea - sickness. John. Now he got f) his deserts! Father. Oh ** my dear parents! my poor parents," he now cried by turns, "you will never see me again! Oh what a wretch I was, to afflict you so!" Crack! crack! went the ship all of a sudden. Heaven have mercy upon us!" cried the sailors, turning as pale as death, and wringing their hands in despair. ,, What's the matter?" cried Robinson, almost frightened to death. " • Alas! we are undone!" they cried,,, a flash of ligh ting has split our foremast, and. our mainmast is quite loose too, so that it must be cut away, and flung g) over board." We are lost!" cried another voice, from the hold, , the ship has sprung h) a leak, and there are already four feet water in the hold!" n Robinson who was sitting in the cabin on the floor, at these words, fell i) down. All hands were called to the pumps, if possible, to keep the ship above water. At last a sailor came to him and gave him a hearty shake and cried : What will you alone lie idle here, while all the rest of us are working ourselves to death? b) to go. c) shall. d) to ly. (lie.) e) to think. f) to get. g) to fling. h) to fpring. i) to fall. 10 He then got k) up, weak as he was, and went to one of the pumps. In the mean time the captain ordered some guns to be fired, as a signal of distress to any vessel, that might happen to be near. Robinson, who knew not the reason of it, thought the ship had burst, and fainted away again. A sailor, who took ) his place, thrust him aside and lest m) him for dead. They pumped with all their strength, but the water in the hold augmented so much, that every moment it was thought, n) the ship would founder. In order to lighten her, they flung every thing they could spare over board, as the guns, bales, casks etc, but all to no purpose, In the mean time another ship had heard the signal of di- strefs, and sent o) a boat, to save the crew, if possible. But the boat could not come near the ship, because the waves rolled too high, by which it was so violently tost p) about, that it was in the greatest danger of being overset ? yet these good-natured people chose rather to venture their own lives, than leave their fellow creatures without assistance. Nicholas. These people were certainly from Hambro' too? Father. What makes you think so? Nicholas. Because they were so ready to assist this Ham burg-Vessel, and even ventured their lives for her sake! Father. Must we then assist our country-men only? su20 re that is not your meaning, dear Nicholas! suppose a man from America should just now fall into our pond: should we wait and ask him first, where he came from? should we not all rather run to save him? Well the people in the boat had the same humanity, tho' they were neither Hamburghers, nor Europeans, nor Christians, but Turks from Smyrna, which place is situated in Asia. John. k) to get. ) to take. m) to leave. a) to think. o) to send. p) to tofs. TI John. I did not think Turks to be so good a people! Father. Dear John! there are good people among all nations and in all countries, the same as there has now and then been a wicked fellow among all nations and in all countries. These brave people strove q) a long while in vain against those high rolling mountains of water, which every moment threaten'd to swallow them and their boat. At last however, they came so near a stern, that by means of a rope, they hauled the boat to the ship, and then every one of the ship's company jumped in: Robinson, unable to stand 募 ​was thrown r) in by some compassionate sailors. They had scarce roved four cables length from the ship, when they saw s) her founder. Happily for them, the storm began now to abate a little: else the boat with all the peo- ple in it would certainly have been swallowed up by the waves. At last, after many dangers, they reached the ship, where they were all taken on board. At last Theophilus. Oh, I am very glad, the poor people are lot drowned! Frederic. I was in great fear for them. Charlotte. This will teach master Robinson to be more rudent for the future, Mother. 1 think so too, now he will grow wiser. Dick. But what became of him, now he was on board of the other ship? Father. The ship, which had received him and all his comrades on board, was bound t) for London. In four days hey made u) the mouth of the Thames and soon after they ast anchor at London. Frederic. Pray, what is the mouth of the Thames? Friend R. The Thames is a river, like our Elb, falling into 4) to strive.) to throw. s) to see, t) to bind. ) to make. 12 into the sea not far from London. The place, where a ri- ver falls into the sea, is called the mouth of that river. Father. They now all went ashore, and every one was greatly rejoiced to have come off so well. Robinson's chief business now was, to see the great city of London, and he was so taken with it, that he forgot w) the past and the future. At last his stomach put him in mind, that to live in the great city of London, he must also eat and drink. He therefore went to his captain and begged his leave to dine with him. This man received him with great hospitality. At dinner, he asked our Robinson the proper reason of his coming to London, and what he now intended to do there? Robinson then frankly told x) him, that he was only co me for pleasure, and even without the knowledge and con- sent of his parents, and that he did not know what to do with himself. ! Without the knowledge and consent of your parents?" cried the captain in a fright, whilst the knife dropt y) from his hand. Good God, why was not I sooner apprized of this! Believe me, imprudent young man," continued had I known this, at Hamburgh, I would not ha ve taken you on board, if you had offer'd me a million for your passage ! " be, "2 All this while Robinson sat z) quite abashed with his eyes cast down. The honest captain continued to represent to him, how very wrong he had acted, saying, he was assured that he could never prosper, till he mended and had obtained the forgiveneſs of his parents. Robinson shed bitter tears. But what can I do now? said he at last, sobbing. w) to forget. x) to tell. y) to drop. ≈) to sit. " Do?" 13 ,, Do?" answered the captain; „ why! you must re- turn to your parents, embrace their knees, and with filial repentance, beg their pardon for your inconsiderate behaviour.” Charlotte. That was a good and honest man, that cap- tain; was he not, Papa? Father. He did what every one sees his fellow-creature go astray: man of his duty. " Will you take me with you, Robinson. ought to do, when he he reminded the young to Hambro' again?" said [?" answered the captain, " have you then forgot, that my ship is lost? a) I shall not return there before I have gotten ) another, and this will take up more time. than you are allowed to stay here. You must return to Ham. burgh, by the very first vessel, that saile thither, and that the sooner the better." you But I have no money!" said Robinson. Here," answered the captain, are some guineas for Theophilus. Pray, what are guineas? Father. English money, my dears gold coin, like 's Louisd'or, of about six dollar's value; I'll shew you one when we go in. John. Oh, but let us continue! Father. Here," answered the brave captain, 59 " are some guineas for you, which I'll lend you, tho' I am in great need of money myself. Take them and go to the har- bour, and bespeak a place on board a ship. If you sine cerely repent, God will grant you a safer returu, voyage hither has been." Upon which he shook c) him heartily by the haud, and wished him a safe return. than our Robinson went away B a) to lose. b) to get. c) to shake. Ni 14 Nicholas. Oh now he is returning home against i thought d) we were to have some adventures first! Mother. Are you not glad, dear Nicholas; to see him returning home to his parents, who probably are in great trouble for him! Friend R. And don't you rejoice to see him repent of his wrongs and that he promises to mend? Nicholas. O yes, I do; but I thought the most entertai ning part was yet to come. Father. He is not yet at home; let us hear, what fur- ther happened to him! 35 " On his way to the harbour, an hundred thoughts came into his head. What will my parents say?" thought he, when I come home again. They will certainly punish me, for having run away! And as to my comrades and play- fellows, how will they laugh at my returning so soon, when I have seen no more than a couple of streets in London!" He stopt e) short in his walk, his head filled with re- flexions. He now thought, he would not return yet; but then he recollected again, what he captain had told f) him, that he would never be happy; unleſs he returned to his parents and obtained their pardon. He was for a long while at a lofs what to resolve upon. At last, however, he went to the barbour. There he heard, to his inexpressible joy, that there was then no ship in loading for Hamburgh. The man, who informed him of this, belonged to a Guinea-trader Frederic. What is a Guinoa-trader? Father. Let Dick tell you, he knows, what it is. Dick. Don't you remember, there is a country, called Africa? Well, one sea coast of it to think. ) to stop. f) to tell Fre $5 Frederic. Coast! Dick. Yes, or the land close to the sea — Look, I ha* ve just my little maps here! This tract of land, winding down this way, is called the coast of Guinea, Father. And the ships, that sail thither, are Guinea men. And the man, Robinson spoke g) with, was cap tain of such a ship. This captain liked Robinson's conversation, and invited him to drink a dish of tea with him on board; which Ro- binson consented to. John. Could that captain speak German then? Father. I forgot to tell you, that Robinson had gotten h) a smattering of the English already in Hamburgh, which as he was now in England, proved very useful to him. The captain hearing of his great inclination to travel, and that he was loath to return home so soon, proposed him, to sail with him to Guinea. Robinson at first started at the idea. But when the captain assured him, that the voyage was very pleasant, and that he should go as a companion with him, without paying any thing, and that possibly he might be a gainer by this voyage: the blood rushed into bis face, and bis desire of travelling became ) so violent, that he forgot k) all the good counsel, which the honest Hamburgh captain had given him, and what a few minu tes before he himself had resolved to do. ,, But," said he, after having paused a little,,, I have but three guineas. What can I buy for so little money, de with at the place we are going to ?" "" to tra. I'll lend you six guineas more," answered the captain. For this money you may buy as many goods, as will be sufficient for you to become a rich man in Guinea, if fortu ne favour us ever so little," ) to speak. h) to get. i) to become. ) to forget. 1 And 16 And what shall I then buy for my nine guineas?" said Robinson. The captain answered; mere trifles, all sorts of toys glassbeads, knives, cisars, hatchets, ribands, firelocks etc, And the blacks of Guinea are so fond of all these things, that they will give you an hundred times the value of them in gold-dust, ivory and other valuable things." دو Now Robinson could withftand no longer, he forget his parents, friends and country, and joyfully cried out: I'll go with you, captain." Agreed!" answered the other: and so they struck k) hands, and the voyage was resolved upon. John, Well! now I'll have no more compassion with this stupid Robinson, tho' he should be ever so miserable. Father. No compassion, John? John. No, Papa; why is he so stupid, as to forget his duty to his parents again? God Almighty must certainly pu- nish him again for such wickedneſs. Father. And do you think that such an unfortunate person, who can so forget his parents, and whom God Almighty must correct by punishments, deserves no compassion? I grant that he is the cause of all he is going to suffer again; but is he not the more unfortunate for it? Oh, my son, God preserve you and us all, from the most dreadful of all suf- ferings, which is, to be conscious of having been the cause of one's own misery! But when ever we hear of such a wretch, we will reflect, that he is our brother, our poor deluded brother, and we will shed a tear of compassion and intercede with heaven for him. All remained filent for some moments, when the father pursued in these words. - Robinson made now all possible speed to town with his nine guineas, for which he purchased the things, the cap tain had advised him, and sent ) them on board. k) to strike. 7) to send. A 17 A few days after, the wind proving favourable the cap. tain ordered the anchor to be weighed, and thus they sail ed away from London. Dick. What way were they then to take, in order to sail for Guinea? mes, - Father. You have your little maps there; come I will shew you! Look here, from London they sail down the Tha- into the Northsea; then they steer westwards thro' the straits of Calais into the Channel. From thence they en- ter the Atlantic Ocean and continue their course, steering here by the Canaries, and there by Cape Verd islands, till at length they come to this coast here, below which is that of Guinea, Dick. But what place will they land at? Father. Perhaps there near Cape - Corse, which belongs to the English. Mother. But I think, it is also time for us to sail, 1 and to steer to table. The sun has been down a good while. Theophilus. I am not at all hungry yet. Charlotte. I would rather hear the story continued. Father. To morrow, to morrow! my children, you shall hear what further happened to our Robinson. Now to supper. All. To supper! to supper? SE- B 3 SECOND EVENING. The following evening, when all te company was assemb bled and was again seated in the same place; the Father resumed his story as follows: This new voyage again proved very prosperous at first. They had already without any accident passed the Channel and we- re now in the Atlantic Ocean. Here the wind blew m) for many days so contrary, that they were continually driven n} towards America. Look, children, I have brought o) a large map with me; on this you can see more plainly than upon a small one, what way the ship was to steer and whither she was driven by contrary winds. Here down this way they intended to sail, but the wind proving contrary, they were, against their will, driven to were you see America, I'll fix the map against that tree so that, if necessary, we may easily, at a great and distance, at the cast an eye upon it. One evening the mate cried, that he saw p) a fire same time they heard some guns fired. All ran now upon deck, saw the fire at a distance, and likewise heard the report of several guns more. The captain examined his sea- - chart and found, q) that there could be no land, within an hun. dred miles distance; therefore they all were of opinion that it was a ship on fire. They m) to blow. to drive. ) to bring. p) to see. g) to find. 5. 19 They immediately resolved to lend these unfortunate peo- ple all possible assistance, and directed their course towards them. They could soon very distinctly see, what they at first had supposed; for they now beheld z) a large vessel all in a blaze. The captain ordered five guns to be instantly fired, to ac quaint these hapless sufferers, that a ship was near, and hastening to relieve them. The guns were scarce fired, when, with terror, they beheld, the burning ship fly up into the air, with a dreadful explosion and soon after all was sunk s), and the fire extinguish'd; for the flame had got ) to the powder room of the ship. What was become of the unhappy people, was yet a mystery. It was possible, that they had saved themselves in their boats, before the ship blew u) up; therefore the cap- tain continued firing his guns all night, to let the poor peo- that wished to re- ple know, where about the ship was, lieve them. He also ordered all the lanthorns to be hung v) out, that they might see the ship. At break of day they actually discovered by means of their perspective glasses two boats full off people, tossed up and down the waves, ro wing towards the ship with all their might, the wind blow- ing in their teeth. The captain immediately ordered a flag to be hoisted as a signal of their being seen by the ship, which hastened to their relief, and making all the sail she conld joined them in half an hour. These unhappy, consisting of sixty people, men, women and children, were all received on board. It was an effec. ting scene to behold these poor people, when they faw themſelves in safety? Some wept w) aloud for joy; others roared for fear, as if the danger was but beginning; some B 4 we. r) to behold, s) to sink.) to get. ) to blow. ) to hang w) to weep. were seen jumping about the deck like madmen; others pa- le as death, were wringing their hands; some were laugh- ing, dancing and shouting like insensate people; others on the contrary, stood x) dumb and lifelefs, and were unable to pronounce a word. Now some of them fell y) on their knees, lifting up their hands to heaven, and thanked God Almighty aloud, whose providence had fo miraculously preserved them. Then they jumped up again, hopped about like children, tore their garments, wept, a) fainted away and could Scarce be recalled to life. Even the most unfeeling sailor could not help shedding a sympathising tear at this sight. Amongst these unfortunate people there was also a clergy- man, who of all others behaved the most manly and with the greatest dignity. At his first step upon deck, he laid himself flat down upon his face, and seemed quite lifeleſs. The captain, believing him in a fit, stept b) up to his as- sistance: but the clergyman with the greatest composure Give me thanked him for his compassion, and said: leave to thank my Creator first for our preservation; and then I shall also tell you how much I acknowledge your compassion with the warmest thanks." The captain respecte fully withdrew c). " Having remained for some minutes in that posture, he chearfully arose, d) went up to the captain and heartly thank. ed him too. Hereupon he turned to his companions, ex- horting them to make their minds easy, that they might the better raise their thoughts unto the Lord, as their bountiful preserver, to whom they owed the unexpected preservation of their lives; and his exhortations had a good effect on many of them, Ho a) to stand. y) to fall. ) to tear. a) to weep. b) to step. e) to withdraw. d) to arise, 21 He then related, who they were, and what had happen. ed to them. The Their ship had been a large french merchantman, bound for Quebeck look here for this place in America fire had broken e) out in the steerage, and had burnt with such violence, that it was impossible for them to tinguish it; they even had scarce had time enough to fire some guns, and to save themselves in their boats. ex. In this situation none of them knew what would be their fate at last. It was most probable, they should all be bu ried in the waves by the least storm, or be starved for want of provisions, because they had only had time to provide themselves with bread and water from the burning ship, for a couple of days. Frederic. What need had they to take in water, being surrounded with it on all sides? Father. You have forgotten, dear Frederic, that sea- water is so salt and bitter that no body can drink it. Frederic. Yes! Yes! Father. In this dreadful situation they had heard the guns fired from he english ship, and foon after perceived the lanthorns hung g) up. They had spent h) the whole of this dismal night between fear and hope, being continually driven farther away from the ship, in spite of the utmost exercition of their united strength, to come nearer up with her. At last the long wished for day-light put an end to their misery. Robinson all this while struggled with terrible ideas.,, Hea- veus!" thought he, if these people, among whom there are certainly many good souls, must suffer such misfortunes, what am I, who have been so ungrateful to my parents, expect for the future!" This thougt lay like a heavy burthen e) to break. f) to forget. g) to hang. h) to spend. to -on 22 on his heart; he sat i) pale and speechless, like one tor mented by a bad conscience, in a corner, wringing his hands, scarce daring to pray, because he thought it im possible for God to love him any longer. Mother. See, what it is to be conscious of wicked aci tions! Then we find no comfort in God; then we always because we feel, that we deserve to be that is a woeful condition.. fear the worst, miserable. Oh! Father. Very woeful indeed! God preserve us from it and all our fellow-creatures. When these poor sufferers, who were greatly harassed, had refreshed themselves with victuals and drink, the chief of them went up to the captain, holding a large purse of money in his hand, telling him: this was all they had been able to save from the ship; and offered it to him as a small boon of the gratitude, they all owed him, for sa ring their lives, 95 God forbid," cried the captain, I should take any thing from you! I have done no more, than what huma. nity prompted me to do, and what I should expect to re- ceive myſelf from you or any other, when in the fame cir cumſtances. him to where To take In vain did the grateful man prefs the captain, to accept his present, he persisted in his refusal and begged say no more of it. After this, the question was these preserved people could be set on shore? them along to Guinea was not advisable for two obvious reas sons. For, in the first place, why should these people make a voyage to so distant a country and where they had nothing to do? and then, they had not provisions enough on board for so many people to live on, in such a long voyage. i) to sit. At 23 At last our brave captain resolved to sail back a hundred leagues and more, for the sake of these poor people, to Newfoundland, where they might easily find an opportuni- ty of returning to France by some vessel or other employed in the codfishery. Charlotte. What sort of fish are they? to the John. Have you forgotten, what Papa told k) us about cod, how they come down from the frozen sea, banks of Newfoundland, where they are caught /) in such great quantities ? Charlotte. Yes, now I remember.. John. Look, this is Newfoundland here above, close by America, and those points there signify the sand banks! well, now the people that catch them, are callęd codfishers. Father. Thither they steered, and it being just then the fishing season, there were many french vessels, who wil- lingly took m) these poor wretches on board, and their gratitude towards the good captain is not to be described by words. As soon as they were delivered into good hands, the captain returned with a fair wind and continued his voyage for Guinea. The vessel cut the waves with more rapidity than a bird does the air, and in a short time they had again ma- de some hundred miles. Now this was an unspeakable plea- sure for our Robinson, who could never go fast enough, because his mind was never at rest! After they had been steering for some days westward they suddenly discovered a large sail making towards them. Soon after they heard some guns fired as in distrefs, and then perceived she had lost n) her foremast and bowfprit. Nicholas. Bowsprit? • k) to tell. 7) to catch. m) to take. n) to lose. Fao 24 Father. Sure you know, what that is? Nicholas. Oh yes, I remember, it is the. [mall mast, that does not stand erect like the rest, but lies down on the fore part of the vessel sticking out like a beak. - Father. Very right. They now likewise steered towards this damaged ship, and when they were near enough to be heard, the people on board of her screamed out to them, with uplifted hands and lamentable looks: Oh, good folks! rescue a ship full of people, who must all perish, if you have no compassion with them." / Upon which, they were all questioned of what nature their misfortune was, when one of them gave the following account: "" We are englishmen, bound for the island of Jamaica; (look children, here in the middle of America) to fetch a eargo of sugar. Whilst we lay at anchor and were just rea- dy to take in our loading, our captain and first mate went on shore upon some businefs. But in their absence there arofe o) such a terrible tempest, that our cable broke p) and we were driven out to sea. The hurricane Theophilus. What is a hurricane? Father. A most violent whirling storm. which arises from the vehemence of several winds, blowing from different quarters against each other " The hurricane continued for three days and three nights; successively we lost our masts and were driven away many hundred miles. Unhappily for us, we have not one man on board that understands navigation: so that we have been tossed about these nine weeks, without knowing where we or what will become of us. All our provisions are ex- and most of us half famished" are, hausted, ** The generous captain immediately order'd the boat to be hoist. •) to arise. p) to break, 25 hoisted out, and having taken in some provisions, he and Robinson went on board of the distressed ship. There they found a) the whole crew in the most wretched situation. All their faces looking pale and star ved, and many were unable to stand. But when they entered the cabin God! what a dreadful sight! there lay a mother with her son and a young maid-servant, in all appearance starved to death. The mother sat b) stiff on the ground, between two chairs fastened together, with her head leaning against the ship's side; the maid lay by her at full length, clasping one foot of a table with one of her arms; but the young man lay on a bed, with a piece of a leathern glove in his mouth, which he had been guawing. 1 Charlotte. Oh, dear Papa! why do you make it so mournful? Father. You are right; I forgot that you don't like to hear such things, so I'll e'en paſs over this part of Robin- son's history All. O no! no, dear Papa, let's have it all, pray! Father. Well if you chuse to have But previously I must tell you, who these poor people were, that lay there in such a dreadful situation. were come with this and had been obliged to because the young man's They were who passengers, vessel from England to Jamaica, remain on board for some days, mother was taken ill. The whole crew said, they were very good sort of people. The mother had loved her son to such an excefs, that she would no longer eat a bit, but spared it for her beloved son. And that dutiful son had done the same again for his dear mother. Even the faithful C maid. a) to find. b) to fit. 1 6 maid servant had been more concerned and anxious for her Mistress and Master than for herself. Every one thought c), they were really dead all the three, but on a nearer examination some symptoms of life were discovered in them. For after having poured a few drops of broth into their mouths, their eyes began to open by de. grees. But alas ! the mother was too far gone d) to swal- low any thing, and after having intimated by signs to take all possible care of her son, she really expired, The young man and the maid were, by proper medici nes, brought e) to themselves again, and being yet young, the captain succeeded in his endeavours to save their lives. But when the young man cast his eyes upon his mother, and perceived that she was dead, he was so affected. that he relapsed into a swoon, from which he was recovered with great difficulty; however, by wholesome remedies and pro- per care, he as well as the maid were perfectly restored to life again. The captain then provided them with as much provisions as he could spare; his carpenters repaired the broken ƒ) mast as well as they could; he also instructed them how to steer in order to make the nearest land, which were the Canaries. He now directed his course the same way, in or der to take in fresh provisions. One of them you know is Madeira, Dick. Yes, that belongs to the Portuguese. John. Where the fine Madeira - wine grows! Theophilus. And the sugar canes! Charlotte. And where there are so many canary birds! Father. The same. At this island then the captain lan- ded, He could not satiate his eyes with the glorious prospect, and Robinson went on shore with him. c) to think. d) to go. e) to bring. f) to break. which 27 which this fertile island afforded. As far as his eyes could see, he saw the mountains all covered with vines. How his mouth watered at the sight of the delicious grapes that hung g) there in thick clusters! and what a feast for him, when the captain had procured him leave, to eat his fill. From the people in the vine-yards they learned, that the wine was not made there by means of a prefs, as they do in other countries. Theophilus. And how then? Father. They put the grapes into a large wooden vessel, and then they either tread the juice out with their feet, or stamp it out with their elbows. Charlotte. Fie! I like not to drink Madeira wine! John, Nor 1! if it were even made with the wine- prefs. Frederic. But why not, pray? John. Oh you were not here yet, when Papa explained to us, that wine was not good for young people. You would be surprised to hear what harm it can do them. Frederic. Is that true, Papa? Father. It is indeed, my dear Frederic. Children who often drink wine and other strong liquors become weak and stupid. Frederic. Then I will never drink wine any more. Father. You will do very well, my child! 2 The captain being obliged to stay here some time, to re- fit his ship, which had suffered a little, our Robinson grew h) tired of the place in a few days. His uneasy mind lon- ged again for new scenes, and he wished to have wings that he might fly through the world. In the interim a portuguese ship arrived from Lisbon, bound for Brazil in America. Pointing to the map.) To this country here, C 2 Dick. g) to hang. h) to grow. be. lon. 28 longing to the Portuguese, where so much gold- dust and diamonds are found; it is not, Papa? Father. The very same Robinson made i) acquaintan- ce with the captain of that ship, and when he heard him talk of gold and diamonds, he determin'd by all means to go to Brazil that he might fill his pockets with such fi ne things. Nicholas. Then he had never heard, I suppose, that no body is allowed to pick up any gold or diamonds there, they all being the property of the king of Portugal. Father. The reason of this is, because he did not like to be instructed, when he was young Finding therefore that the portuguese captain was disposed to take him there gratis, and that the english ship would at least remain a fortnight longer, he could not withstand the temptation, and plainly told his friend the english captain, that he was going to leave him, in order to sail for Brazil. This worthy who but lately had heard from Robinson himself, that he was travelling without his parents leave, was glad to get rid of him; he made him a present of the money he had lent him in England, and gave him many good lessons into the bargain. man, Having bade j) an adieu to the english captain, Robin. son went k) on board of the portuguese vessel, and they presently got under sail for Brazil. They steered by Tene, riff, on which they saw the high conic mountain, Charlotte. I thought they called it the peak of Teneriff? John. Why, that is the same thing; a peak is a conic mountain. Well Papa! Father. It was a glorious prospect in the evening, long after sunset, and the sea all overspread with darkneſs to see the top of this mountain, one of the highest in the whole i) to make. j) to bid. k) to go. 20 whole world, still glowing with sunbeams as if it were on fire. Some days after they had another very agreeable sigt upon the sea. A great number of flying fish rose above the sur- face of the water, that shone ) like polished silver, so that they caused a lustre like that of a burning candle. Frederic. Are there any fish, that can fly? Father. O yes, I think we have seen one already. Theophilus. O yes, when we were lately in town, but that had neither feathers nor wings. Father. But it had long fins, these they use like wings, and rise with them above the water. Their voyage was very prosperous for many days; but suddenly there arose a violent storm, from the south-east. The foaming billows rose m) as high as mountains, whilst the ship was tossed up and down by them. This: dreadful storm continued six days and nights without any intermis- sion, and the ship was so far driven from her course, that neither the mate nor the captain knew where they were; however they thought n) themselves to be near the Carib- bee-islands (hereabouts) On the seventh day, just when it began o) to dawn, one of the sailors cried out: land! to the inexpressible joy of ali the company. Mother. Land! land! the supper is ready, to morrow you shall hear more. Theophilus. Oh, dear Mama, let us first hear, how they went on shore, and what happened to them there! I would willingly put up with a piece of bread, if we could but stay here, and Papa would please to continue his story, Father. I think so too, my dear, we had best eat our supper here on the grafsplot. C 3 1) to shine. ) to rise. m) to think. o) to begin. Mo- 30 Mother. Just as you please; so, children, let me not de- tain you from listening to your story, while I am preparing things for supper. All. Oh, that's charming, that's excellent! Father. Now they all ran on deck, to see what land they had made, but that same moment their joy was changed into the greatest terror. The ship began to crack, and all that were on deck, got such a violent shock, that they fell p) flat down. John. What was the matter? Father. The ship had struck q) upon a sandbank, and in that moment stuck r) so fast in it, as if she had been nailed to the ground. Presently after the sea broke over her in such a manner, that they all ran to the steerage and ca- bin, to avoid being washed over board. Now there were such lamentations heard among the ship's crew, as would have excited compassion in the hardest heart! Some were praying, others crying, some were wrin- ging their hands as in a fit of despair, others stood stiff and as immoveable, as if they had been dead. Robinson was among the latter, more dead than alive. All of a sudden one cried, the slip had split! which dreadful news recalled all into life. They quickly returned upon deck hoisted out the boat, and in the greatest hurry jumped all into it. ! But their number was so great, that, after they were all in, the boat was scarce five inches above water. They were yet at a great distance from the land, and the storm was so violent, that every body thought it almost an impossibility to reach the shore. However they plied their oars, with the utmost diligence, and very luckily had the wind with them. pl) to fall. g) to strike. r) to stick. Pre- 31 Presently they saw a wave like a lofty mountain rolling after them. At this dreadful sight, they all stiffen'd with terror, and dropts) their oars. Now the frightful moment aproached! The monstrous wave reached the boat, overset it and they all sunk t) down into the ra ging sea! (Here the father stopt u); the whole company remained silent and many of them heaved a sigh of compas. sion. At length the mother appeared with a rural supper, and put an end to these moving sensations, ) s) to drop. #) to sink. a) to stop. THIRD THIRD EVENING. Theophilus. Is Robinson now really dead then, dear Papa? Father. We left v) him last night in the most imminent danger of his life. When the boat was overset, he and all his companions were w) swallowed up in a moment. But the same monstrous wave bore x) him along towards the shore, and dashed him with such violence against a piece of a rock, that the pain of it roused him from the slumbers of death, which had already seized on him. He opened his eyes, and finding himself, contrary to what he expected, on dry land, he used all his efforts to clamber up the cliffs of the shore. He succeeded, and being then quite tired and almost spent, he sank y) down and remained a good while on the ground without knowing any thing of himself. At last however his eyes opened again, and he arose to look around him. Good God, what a sight! There was nothing to be seen, neither the ship, the boat, nor his companions, except some planks, which the waves had washed on shore. He, only he, had escaped death. Trembling with joy and terror he fell on his knees, lifted up his hands to heaven, and with a loud voice and flood of tears, he thanked the Lord of heaven and earth, who so miraculously had preserved him. — ne, John. But why did God Almighty preserve Robinson alo- and why did he suffer all the rest to perish? >> to leave. w) to be. a) to bear. y) to sink. Fa 33 Father. My dear John, are you always able to discover the reasons, why we grown people, who love you hearti ly, make you sometimes do one thing and sometimes another? John. No! Father. For instance lately, when the weather was so fine, and we all so desirous to make an excursion to the Four-lands z), what did I then? John. Why, then poor Nicholas was obliged to remain at home, and the rest of us went to Wansbeck, and not to the Four-lands ? as we wished. Father. And why was I then so severe upon poor Nicho las, that I would not suffer him to go along with us? Nicholas. Oh, that I know very well! Bromley, our clerk, came soon after to attend me to my parents, whom I had not seen for a long while. Father. And was not that a greater pleasure for you, than going to the Four-lands? Nicholas. O much greater! much greater! Father. I knew a) before hand, that Bromley was to come and attend you to your parents, red you to stay. in Wansbeck? and therefore orde And you John, whom did you meet John. My dear Papa and Mama, who were gone &) thither. Father. Of this also I was informed, and for the same reason, desired you to go to Wansbeck, and not to the Four-lands. My arrangement then did not please you, be. cause you did not know my reasons. But why did not I tell them you? John. To afford us an unexpected pleasure, by meeting our parents, without knowing of it before. Fa- s) A fertile plain some miles from Hambro'. a) to know. b) to go. 24 Fathers Very right. Now, my children, do you not think that God Almighty loves his children, that is, all mankind, as much as we love you? Theophilus. O much more, surely! Father. And have you not long since learnt, that God knows every thing much better, than we poor short sighted mortals do, who so seldom know, what is proper and good for us? John. O yes! God is omniscient, and knows all that is to come; and that's what we can not. Father. Thus God Almighty, loving all mankind so ten- derly, and being at the same time so wise, that he alone knows what is proper for us, should he not always do the best for us? Theophilus. O yes, certainly! Father. But can we always know, why God disposes of us this way, and not otherwise? John. If we knew that, we should be as omniscient as he is himself! Father. Now, dear John, have you a mind to repeat your last question once more? John. Which? Father. Why God preserved only Robinson and suffered the rest to perish? John. No, Papa. Father. Why not? John. Because I now perceive, that it was an unreasona ble question. Father. Why unreasonable? John. Because God knows best, why he does a thing, and that we cannot know! Father. Undoubtedly, then God Almighty had his wise and good reasons for suffering the whole crew to perish, and singling Robinson out to be saved; but we cannot con- ceive 35 ceive these reasons. We may indeed form some conjectures, but we must never imagine to have hit upon them. God might, for instance, have foreseen, that in prolon. ging the lives of those, whom he suffered to be drowned, they would fall into great misery, or even become vicious and wicked; and therefore he removed them from this world, and conducted their immortal souls to a place, where their condition is better than here on earth. He proba bly spared Robinson, that he might be mended by sufferings and misery. For as he is always a very kind father, he endeavours to mend us by sufferings, if we will not do so of our own accord, when he is bountiful and indulgent to us. Be mindful of this, my good children, and always think of it, when in your future days any misfortune befalls you, and when you cannot conceive, why your good heavenly Father has ordered it so. Then recollect, that God best knows, what is good for us, and suffer willingly, what he has ordained! He certainly makes us suffer, to render us better than we are; we will therefore suffer patiently and God will grant us happier days again. Dick. Did Robinson imagine so now? Father. Yes, now that he was rescued from losing his life, and that he saw himself without the assistance of any human creature; now he felt c), from the inmost of his heart, the wrong he had done; now he fell on his knees and begged pardon of God for the sins he had committed; be now firmly resolved to mend and never to do any thing again, which he knew to be wrong. Nicholas. But, what did he do now? Father. When the joy he felt for his preservation had subsided, he began to reflect on his present situation; he looked around, but he discovered nothing bat bushes and trees c) to feel. 36 trees without fruit! He saw nothing from which he might conclude that this country was inhabited. It was indeed a frightful thought to him; now to live quite alone in an unknown country. But his hair stood d) on an end, when he reflected how he should live? if there were any wild beasts or savages, for which he could not be safe one moment. Frederic. But are there really any savages? John. Why, yes! did you never hear of them? there are far, very far from here, men, who are as wild as brutes! Theophilus. Who go almost naked, what do you think of that, Frederic! Dick. Ay, and who know scarce any thing in the world, who can build no houses, have no gardens, and cultivate no fields! Charlotte. And who eat raw flesh, and raw fish; I rea member it very well. Papa, didn't you tell us of them? John. Ay! and what d'ye think? these poor people are entirely ignorant of their Creator, because they never had an instructor. ! Dick. For that very reason, they are so barbarous! only think, some of them even eat man's flesh! Frederic. Oh, what shocking people! Father. What unhappy people, you should say! These poor wretches are unhappy enough, to have grown up in such stupidity and brutishneſs. Frederic. Do any of them ever come here? Father. No; the countries, where these poor people live, are so distant from here, that none of them ever Their number also lessens, because other ci vilized men, who go to their country, take pains, to in- struct and civilize them. come to us. d) to stand. Dick, 37 Dick. But pray, were there any in that country, where Robinson now was? Father. That he could not know as yet. But having once heard, that there lived such people in the islands of this part of the Globe, he thought it probable, there might be some, and this put him so much in fear, that all his limbs trembled. Theophilus. Indeed! there would have been no joking, if there had been any! Father. At first he had not the courage to stir from his place, for fear and terror. The least noise frightened and startled him. At last he grew so thirsty, that he could bear it no lon- ger. He therefore saw himself forced to look about for so- ine fresh water; and very luckily he found a fine clear spring, at which he might quench his thirst. Oh what a blessing is a draught of fresh water for him, who suffers thirst! Robinson thanked God for it, hoping, that he would also afford him something to eat. He that feeds the fowls of the air, thought he, will not suffer me to perish with hunger! Indeed he was not yet very hungry, because fear and ter ror had taken away his appetite: but he longed the more for rest. He was so worn e) out with all he had suffered of late, that he had scarce strength enough left, to stand on his legs. But where should he paſs the night. On the ground un. der the canopy of Heaven? But then savages and wild beasts might come and devour him! As far as his eyes could reach, he saw neither house, hut or cave. He stood a while quite comfortlefs and knew not what to do. At length he resolved to pafs the night on a tree like a bird. D e) to wear. 38 bird. He soon found one, the boughs of which were thick enough, that he might commodiously sit upon one and lean his back against some others. He climbed up this tree, made his fervent prayers to God, placed himself as well as he could and fell asleep directly. In his sleep he dreamt f) of all he had suffered the day before. He thought he saw his parents, weeping, sighing, wringing their hands for him, in the greatest affliction and their hearts almost broken g) and all on his account! A cold sweat broke out at every pore. He cried aloud: Here I am! Here I am, my dear parents! and thus crying, he was going to throw himself into his parents arms, motion in his sleep, and fell miserably down from his tree, Charlotte. Oh poor Robinson! . Theophilus. I suppose he is killed by his fall? made a Father. To his good fortune, he had not been very high, and the ground underneath was so overgrown with grafs that he did not fall very hard. He only felt a slight pain in that side, on which he had fallen; which, and as he had suffered much more in his dream, he did not value much. He then climbed up again into the tree, and remain- ed there till sunrise. He then began h) to reflect, where he might get some thing to eat. He had none of those eatables we have in Europe. He had no bread, no meat, no vegetables, no milk; and tho' he had any of these things to boil or roast, he yet wanted fire, spit and pots. All the trees he had hitherto seen were what they call Campechio trees (Log- wood trees), which bore i) nothing but leaves. John. What sort of trees are they? - Father. Trees, the wood of which dyers make use of for different purposes. They grow in some parts of Ame ƒ) to dream. g) to break. h) to begin. f) to bear, rica 39 rica, and are brought j) in great abundance to Europe. This wood, when boiled, gives the water a dark red co- lour, and this the dyers use, to shade other colours with, But let us return to our Robinson! He came down from his tree, without knowing what to do. As he had eaten nothing all the day before, he began to feel a most violent hunger, which made him run about some thousand steps, to see whether he might not discover some eatable things, but all to no purpose, he found no- thing but trees without fruit and graſs. Being now in the greatest anxiety, he cried out, I shall starve with hunger, and wept aloud to heaven. Necessity however gave him strength and courage to run along the shore, in order to see if it were not possible to find some eatables at last. But all in vain! nothing but Campechio- trees, nothing but grafs and sand every where! Tired and exhausted he flung k) himself with his face to the ground, cried aloud, and wished he had been drowned rather than to perish now so miserably with hunger! He had already resolved, to wait for a slow and dreadful death in this distressful situation, when turning accidentally his eyes upwards, he discovered a gull flying with a fish thro' the air. He instantly recollected to have read some- where:,, That God who feeds the ravens, will not suffer man to starve." He now blamed himself, for having had so little confidence in God's providence; he then jumped up from the ground, with a firm resolution, to walk and seek about as long as his strength would permit him. So he now con- tinued walking along the shore and looking about on all sides for something to eat. At last he found some oyster-shells lying on the shore. He 1) to bring. k) to fling. Da eagerly 10 eagerly ran towards them and carefully examined the spot in hopes of finding some real oysters, and to his unspeakable joy he found some. John. Do oysters lie so on the shore? Father. It is not their proper place. Their abode is in the sea, where they cling to one another against the sides of rocks, so as to form small hills, which are called Oy- sterbeds, but many of them are washed away by the wa. ves, and carried on shore by the tide, and when the sea begins to ebb they remain on the dry land. Frederic. Pray, what is the tide ? Charlotte. Don't you know? why, when the water rises. and falls again. Frederic. What water, pray? Charlotte. Why, the water of the sea? Friend R. Frederic, let your brother John explain that to you, he will be able to give you an idea of it. John. Who? I? Well, I'll see! Have you never ob. served, that the water in the Elb sometimes rises higher than usual, and sometimes after falls again, so that you may then walk, where the water was before. Frederic. O yes, that I have seen very often! John. Well, now when the water swells so, as to cover the shore, they call it high water; but when it runs off again so as to leave the shore dry, they call it ebb or low water. Father. Now I must tell you Frederic, that the water in the sea thus rises and falls twice in the course of twenty four hours. It continues swelling on for six hours and some odd minutes, and is sinking again for a little more than six hours. The former they call high and the latter low water; do you underſtand it now? Frederic. I do, but pray, what makes the water swell and sink again? The 41 Theophilus. Oh! that I know very well. It is the moon, that attracts the water so as to make it rise. Nicholas. Oh we have heard that so often! Let Papa con- tinue his story. Father. Another time, Frederic, I'll tell you more of this matter, Robinson was now out of his wits for joy, at having found something to allay the violence of his hunger. It is true, the oysters he found were not sufficient to satisfy him fully, but he was glad to have found something. His greatest concern was next, where he should live for the future, so as to be secured against savages and wild beasts. His first night's lodging had been attended with so many incoveniencies, that the very thought of it made him shudder. Theophilus. I know very well, what I should have done, Father. Well, and what would you have done? Theophilus. Why, I would have built 1) a house, with very thick walls and thick iron doors. I would have made a ditch all round with a drawbridge, which I would have drawn up every night; and then I am sure, the savages could not have hurt me in my sleep. Father. Oh clever! it is great pity you were not there to assist poor Robinson with your good advice! But, now I think of it: did you ever observe with any attention, how carpenters and bricklayers set about building houses. Theophilus. O yes! very often. The bricklayers begin with preparing the lime, and mixing it with sand; they then lay one brick upon the other, and with their trowels put mortar between, so as to made them keep fast to one ano. ther. This done, the carpenters square the beams with their hatchets and make them fit together. After this they draw D 3 up 1) to build. 42 the up the beams by a pully and fix them upon the brickwork. Then they saw boards and laths which they nail upon rafters to fix the tiles upon; and then Father. I see, you have been a very attentive observer of house building. But as the bricklayers want lime, trowels, bricks or stones which must first be squared, and as the car penters want batchets, saws, gimlets, nails, squares and hammers, where would you have got all these things, had you been in Robinson's place? Theophilus. Nay, that I don't know. Father. Nor Robinson neither, and tho' his desire of building a real house was very srong, he was obliged to give up the scheme. He had no other tools but his two hands, and with them alone he could not build such a house as we live in. Nicholas. Why, then he might at least have made him- self a hut of branches, which he might easily break from the trees. Father. And could such a hut of branches have secured him against serpeats, wolves, panthers, tygers, lions and other wild animals ? John. Oh poor Robinson! what will now become of you! Nicholas. But could he not shoot them? Father. Oh yes, if he had had a gun with powder and balls! But the poor fellow, we know, had nothing of all this, nothing at all, except his two hands! Reflecting now on his forlorn condition he again relapsed into his former despondency. What does it avail me, thought he, that I have escaped dying of hunger, when I am likely. to be devoured by wild beasts at night. These afflicting thoughts work'd so forcibly upon him, that he really thought, he saw a fierce tyger standing be fore him, with his jaws open and shewing his large pointed teeth; then falling upon him and seizing him by the throat. In 43 oh my poor parents! In this terrible fright he cried out: and then sunk m) motionleſs to the ground. Having lain n) a while in this sit of anxiety and despair, he recollected, what he had often heard his pious mother sing, when any sad accident had befallen her. The hymn begins thus: رو " " 29. 15 Whoever places all his trust And confidence on God the Lord, When he is suffering in the dust, The Lord will him relief afford; Whoever trusts his mighty hand, Has not his hope built on the sand. This was a real cordial for him! He repeated this fine hymn twice, or thrice, with great devotion, then he sang o) it aloud, rising at the same time from the ground, to look about for some cavern, that might afford him a safe retreat. Where he properly was, on the continent or an island of America? he could not know as yet. But seeing a hill at some distance, he went towards ita On his way, he made the melancholy observation, that this country bore p) nothing but unfruitful trees and graſs. You may easily guefs, what were his reflections on seeing such a barren place. With great difficulty be at last climbed up this pretty high hill, and then took a view of the country for many miles round him. He then beheld with terror, that he was in an island, and as far as his eyes could reach, he saw no land at all, except some small islands, which lay at some distance. Forlorn creature, forlorn creature!" he cried, his hands auxiously folded and lifted up to heaven. Is it then true, that I am debarred from all communication with mankind, رو D 4 m) to sink. s) to lie. o) to sing.) to bear, for. 44 forsaken by all, and no hopes left me of ever being deli ver'd from this dreary desart? Oh my poor afflicted parents! Am I then never to see you again! shall I never be able to beg your pardon for my offence! shall I never hear again the comfortable voice of a friend, of a man! - But I am rigtly served," continued he. Oh Lord, thou dealest justly with me! I have no right to complain. My fate is such as I deserve! " Absorbed in these desponding cogitations and as in a dream he remained motionleſs in the same place, his staring eyes fixed to the ground, Forsaken by God and men!" was all Happily for him he at last recollected he could utter >> another verse of the same beautiful hymn: " "" When prest with grief do not despair, Nor think God has forsaken thee: Or that he's God's peculiar care Who liveth in prosperity! Time often changes here our fate And limits grief, however great! With servent zeal he now fell on his knees promised patience and resignation in his sufferings, and begged for strength to support them. Charlotte. It was very lucky for Robinson to know such Ene hymns, that could comfort him now in his distress. - Father. Certainly it was very lucky! What would now have become of him, if he had not known, that God is the merciful, almighty and omnipresent father of all mankind. He wou'd have been overwhelmed with anguish and despair, if he had not been taught q), to think so of God. But this very thought of his heavenly father, afforded him always comfort and courage, when his misery seemed to encrease, and made him entirely submit to the will of Providence. Char- 1) to teach. 45 Charlotte. Pray, Papa! will you give me some more instructions about God Almighty, as you have done to the rest ? Father. With great pleasure, my dear girl! I shall not fail, to teach you more and more of our Almighty God every day, as you grow more sensible. You know, I am never more pleased, than when I speak of him, who is so good, so great and so kind. Charlotte. Oh fine; and I never have any greater plea. sure, than when you entertain us of God Almighty. I really long to hear you talk of him again. Father. You have good reason for it, Charlotte! For when you come to be better acquainted with God, you will double your endavours to become good, and you will then enjoy much greater happiness than you do now. Robinson now felt r) himself greatly strengthened, and began to scramble about the bill. His endeavours to find out some secure retreat, for a long time, proved unsuccefs- ful. At length he came to a small hill, the side of which was as steep as a wall. Upon a nearer examination of that side, he found a hollow place in it, the entrance of which was pretty narrow. Had he had a pickaxe, a chisel or any other iron instru- ments, nothing would have been easier than to work out this hollow place, which was partly a rock, to enlarge it, and make it convenient for him to live in. But alas! he had none of these instruments! Now the question was what to do to supply their place. After having puzzled his brain a long while about it, he said to himself: The trees, I here see, resemble the willows of my own country, which may easily be transplan- ted. I will grub up a great many of those young trees, with my r) to feel. 46 my hands, and plant them round about this hole, so close together as to form a wall of them; and when they grow thicker and higher, I shall then be as safe within them as if I were in a house: for froin behind 1 shall be shelter- ed by the steep rock; and these trees will secure me on the other side." He was greatly rejoiced at this happy thought, and di. rectly ran s) to put it in execution. To his great delight, he perceived a clear spring, bubbling out of the rock just by this place; he made up to it in order to quench his thirst, being very dry from the scorching heat of the sun and his running and scrambling about the hill. Theophilus. Was it then so very warm, in his island? Father. That you may easily imagine! Look here (poin- ting to the map) are the Caribbee - Islands, of which that, Robinson now lived in, probably was one. Now you see these islands are not very far from what is called the Line, where the sun stands sometimes perpendiculary over the people's heads. It must therefore be very warm in those. quarters. With a great deal of trouble, he at last pulled up some young trees from the ground with his hands, and carried them to the place he had chosen t) for his habitation. Here he was obliged to make holes with his hands, in order to plant them; and as his work went on but very slowly; night came on, when he had planted no more than five or six of his trees. Urged by hunger, he again returned to the sea shore, to look for some oysters. But unluckily for him, the tide was up and consequently he found noue, and was obliged, to lay himself down that night with an empty stomach. But where could he lie down? s) to run. ) to chose. He had resolved, to con 47 continue sleeping on the tree, till he had made himself a securer habitation. Thither he now went. But to prevent the same unlucky accident, that happened to him the night before, he fastened himself with his gar- ters to that branch, against which he leaned with his back, and having recommended himself to his Creator, he fell asleep. John. That was well done! Father. Necessity teaches us a great deal, which in other circumstances we should never have the least idea of. For that same reason God has disposed the world and ourselves so, that we have many wants, which we are obliged to satisfy, by reflection and ingenuity. And these very wants make us wiser and more sensible. For if we found every thing ready made and prepared; if houses, beds, clothes, victuals, drink and all the rest, we want for the preser- vation and conveniency of life, grew of their own accord ready made and prepared, out of the ground; we certainly should do nothing but eat, drink and sleep, and then we should remain as stupid as brutes to the day of our death. Nicholas. God Almighty has then done very wisely, not to let every thing grow thus ready made prepared out of the ground. But Father. Just as he ordered every thing throughout the whole creation with infinite goodnefs and' wisdom. behold! yonder the beautiful evening star! how friendly it sparkles above us. This too our heavenly Father has cre. ated, and we will go and give him our heartly thanks for the agreeable day he has granted us, Come, my chil dren! let us hand in hand walk to yon bower! FOURTH FOURTH EVENING. Father. Well, my good children, where did we leave our Robinson last night? John. He had climb'd into his tree again to sleep there, and Father. Very right, I know it! better he did not fall down again, untill the next morning. This time he fared but slept u) soundly At dawn of day he first ran to the sea shore, to look for oysters, and then he returned to his work. This time be took another way, and had the pleasure of discovering a tree with large fruits. It is true, he did not know what fruits they were; but he flattered himself with the hopes, that they would be eatable, and in that confidence knock'd down one of them. as big as a child's head. The It was a triangular nut, outward shell was fibrous, as if made of hemp. The second shell on the contrary, was as solid and as hard as turtle shell; and Robinson soon conceived that he might use it as a bowl, this shell being so spacious that a certain little longtailed american ape, called Saccawinka, can live in it. The kernel was exceedingly juicy and tasted like a hazel- nut, and in the middle of it, which was hollow, he found a sweet juice which was very refreshing. The juice may be let out by means of three holes, nature formed in them, without breaking the hard inner shell: a very wise contrivance, without which most of this wholesome juice 49 juice would be spilled. This was This was a very delicious meal for our half starved Robinson! His empty stomach was not sa- tisfied with one nut only; he knocked down a second and a third, which he ate u) with as good an appetite, as he had done the first. A grateful tear started in his eyes for joy at this discovery. The tree was pretty high, and without branches, like the palm trees; but had only a crown consisting of long leaves in the shape of a broad-sword. Theophilus. And pray, what sort of tree might that be? There are none such here. * Father. It was a cocoa tree, which are chiefly found in the East-Indies, and here in the islands of the South- I sea. How this tree might come into Robinson's Island, cannot tell; it is not usual to find them in the American islands. John. I should be glad to see a cocoa- nut! Father. Should you? Well, stay; I can show you something, that looks very much like one. (The father luckily had receiv'd one as a present a short time before. He went to fetch it. At his return with the large nut in his hand, they all flew v) to him with exclamations of surprise, uncertain, whether they should believe their eyes). Father. Well, what do you think this to be? John. Why, I suppose this is a real cocoa. nut? Father. As real a one, as ever grew in the Indies. All. Indeed! Nicholas. And, pray Papa, where did you get it? Father. You all know, I have not been in the East none indies; and that there are none to be sold w) here in Hamburgh. If I had not had some friend, to present me E #) to eat. v) to fly, w) to sell. with 50 with one, we should not have the pleasure of seeing this remarkable fruit, so rare in this country. Mother. Look, how good it is, that people do not mind their own pleasure only, but are likewise solicitous for that of others! If the good gentleman, who gave us this, had only minded himself, he would have eaten it, and we should not have seen it. But be has generously spared it from his own mouth, to please us, most of whom he never saw. Theophilus. And who is this good gentleman? Father. Our friend Captain Muller, whom you saw two years ago, when we were at Stade. Nicholas. Oht aye! the good-natured gentleman, . who came to see us at York? Father. The same him as he made it us; open the shell. - May this evening be as happy to inean while let us try, if we cannot After much ado the outward fibrous shell was opened, and the nut taken out. Hereupon they opened one of the three small holes in the inner hard shell and a whole tea cup full of juice ran out. This milk was not found so agreeable as it is generally described; perhaps, because the nut was too old or had been taken from the tree before it was quite ripe. At last the nut was cut open with a saw, to get in the white kernel, which every one found more agreeable, than the sweetest hazelnut. This was a delicious feast for the young folks). Dick. Blefs me! what a deal of trouble it must have given to poor Robinson, to open that hard shell! Father. That you may now judge, having seen how much pains it cost us, tho' we have sharp knives and a which Robinson had not. But what difficulty can be great for an hungry man, who has the hopes of eating his fill. saw, Tho' 51 Tho' Robinson had now satisfied his hunger, yet he ran to the seashore, to see, if he cou'd find any oysters. He indeed found some, but not enough to make a good meal of He had therefore good reason to be thankful to God Almighty, for letting him another kind of food; and this he really did with an affected heart. The oysters he had found, he took along with him for his dinner, and now he returned to his work with renewed courage. On the shore he had found a large muscle-shell, which served him instead of a spade, and rendered his work much lighter. A short time after he discovered a plant, the stalk of which was fibrous like flax or hemp. At any other period, he would not have minded. this; but now nothing was in- different to him; he examined every thing, and considered, whether he might not convert it to some use or other. In hopes, that this plant might be employed like flax or hemp, he pulled up a great deal of it, tied it up in smal bundles and laid them in water. Some days after, when he perceived that the coarse part of the stalk was soaked, enough, he took the bundles out again, and spread them abroad in the sun. As soon as they were sufficiently dry, he made a trial whether they might not be broken x) li ke flax, which he tried to do with a great stick and he succeeded. After this he tried to twist thin ropes of this flax. It is true, he could not make them so firm, as those made by our rope-makers; because he neither had a wheel, nor any body, to assist him. However they were strong enough to tie his large muscle-shell to a stick, by which means he got an instrument, not much unlike a spade. · He now vigorously prosecuted his work, and planted his a) to break. E. 2. trees 52 trees close together: till at last he had 'encompassed the small space before his future dwelling. But as one row of thin trees did not seem a sufficient shelter for him, he took the trouble to plant a second. These two rows he af terwards interwove y) with green twigs, and at last he con- ceived the idea, of filling up the space between them with earth This now formed so solid a wall, that to break through it, would have required a considerable force. Every morning and evening he watered his little planta tion, from the neighbouring spring. His cocoa-shell ser- ved him instead of a watering pot. He soon had the hap- pineſs of seeing his young trees budding and becoming green; a charming view to him! Having now almost compleated his hedge, he employed a whole day in twisting ropes, and making himself a lad- der of them, as well as he could, Dick And for what purpose? Father. You shall hear. He intended to have no door at all to his habitation, but even to fill up with trees the opening he had left. Dick. But how could he get in and out then? ✔ Father. By means of this ladder. The rock above his habitation was about two stories high. On the top of it there was a tree, to this he fastened his ladder, and let it hang down to the ground. Then he tried, whether it were strong enough for him to get up and down, and it succeeded to his wish. Having accomplished all this, he began to consider, by what means he might scoop out the hollow within the hill, in order to make it large enough for his habitation. His bare hands wou'dn't do, that he foresaw; but what then cou'd he do? He was obliged to look about him for so. mething to serve his purpose. y) to interweave. With 53 With this view he went to a spot, great number of hard green stones. where he had seen a Whilst he was very carefully looking among them, he found one, the sight of which made his heart palpitate for joy. This stone was exactly shaped like a hatchet, > one end of it quite sharp and on the other there was a hole in which he might fasten a handle. Robinson instantly saw, that he should be able to make a tolerable hatchet of it, if he could only make the hole a little larger. This after much trouble, he at last happily effected by means of another stone; and by means of the cords of his fastened it to a strong handle as firm, nailed to it. own making he as if it had been Then he tried, whether he could not cut down a young tree with it, which succeeded to his unspeakable joy. You might have offered him a thousand dollars for this hatchet and he would not have taken them, such were the advanta ges he expected from it. Searching again among these stones, he espied two others, that likewise promised to be of great service to him. One had the form of a maller, such as masons and joiners use; the other was shaped like a short club, and sharp at one took'em z) both, end like a wedge. Robinson full of joy, and ran a) to his habitation, where he directly fell to work. He succeeded most excellently. He placed his stone- wedge against the rock, struck b) on it with his mallet and by that means knocking off one piece after the other, he enlarged his cavern. In a few days he was so far advanced, that he thought it spacious enough to serve him as an ha. bitation to sleep in. He had, sometime before this, been pulling up with his hands a great deal of grafs and spread it in the sun to dry. E 3 z) i. e. took them, a) to run. 6) to strike. This 54 This grafe being now sufficiently dry he carried it into his cavern, and made himself a commodious bed of it. And now nothing hindered him from sleeping again as a human creature, after having past above eight nights perch- ed upon a tree like a bird. Oh, what comfort it was for him, to stretch his weary limbs upon a soft bed of hay ! He thanked God for it, and thought within himself: Oh, did my countrymen in Europe but know, what it is to paſs so many nights sitting on a hard branch; sure they would think themselves very happy, because they can stretch them- selves on a soft and secure bed, and they would not for- get every night to return thanks to God Almighty for this benefit. The next day was a sunday, which Robinson devoted to rest, to prayers, and reflexions and reflexions on himself. He lay whole hours on his knees, his eyes full of tears lifted up to heaven, praying to God Almighty to pardon his ma- nifold sins, and to blefs and comfort his poor parents. Then with tears of joy he thanked God for the miraculous assis- tance, he had grant him in his forlorn condition, and vow- ed to amend daily and promised filial obedience for ever. Charlotte. Now Robinson is become much better, than he was before! Father God Almighty knew very well, that he would mend, when he should come to be in distrefs, and there- fore made him suffer. The ways of our heavenly Father are always such with us. He makes us sometimes suffer, not from anger but from love, and because he knows, that we should not mend otherwise. Now Robinson bethought c) himself of making an alma. nack, that he might not forget the succession of days and when it was sunday, e) to bethink, John. 55 John. An almanack! Father. It was indeed not one so exactly printed upon paper, as those made use of in Europe, but one which enabled him to count the days. John. And how did he make it, přay? a Father. Having no paper, nor any other materials for writing, he pitched upon four trees that had a smooth bark, and stood d) together. In the largest of them, he made a notch every evening with a stone, to signify that a day was past. Now, when he had made seven notches, week was ended, and then he made another notch in the next tree, to signify that a week was past. Whenever he had made four notches in the second tree, he made one in the third, to signify that a whole month was past and when he had at last made twelve of these monthly not- ches he made one in the fourth tree, to signify that a whole year was expired. > Dick. But the months are not all of equal length! Some have thirty and some have one and thirty days. How did he then know how many days every month has? Father. That he could count on his fingers. John. On his fingers! Father. Yes; and if you will, I'll shew you how? All. Oh yes! yes! dear Papa! Father.. Now mind me! --- Look, he closed his hand in this manner; then he pointed with one finger of his right hand to the first knuckle of his left, then in the hollow between this and the next knuckle, and so on naming the months in their successive order. Every month, that falls on a knuckle, has one and thirty days, and those months that fall between, have only thirty, February excepted, which has never thirty, but only twenty eight, and every E 4 fourth d) to stand. 56 fourth year twenty nine days; thus pointing to the knuckle of the forefinger of his left hand, he named January as the first month of the year, and how many days has that month? John. One and thirty. Father. Now I will continue to count the months in this and you John, you may tell the number of the days; 60, in the second place, February. manner, John. Should have thirty, but has only twenty eight and sometimes twenty-nines Father. March John. One and thirty、 Father. April, John. Thirty. Father. May. John. One and thirty. Father. June. John. Thirty Father. July John. One and thirty. Father. August. (Pointing to the knuckle of the thumb.) John. Thirty-one. Father. September John. Thirty? Father. October. John Thirty-one. Father. November. John. Thirty. Father. December. John. One and thirty days. Father. Did you observe in the almanack, if it were right? Dick. Yes, Sir, I did; it was all just to a hair! Father. Such things, as these, ought to be well obser red, because we have not always an almanack about us, and 57 and yet it may sometimes be of importance for us, to know how many days are in every month. John. O! I shall not forget it again. Dick. Nor I; I have taken good notice of it! not to lose Father. In this manner Robinson took care, his account of time, that he might always know, which day was sunday, and celebrate it like a christian. Now he had consumed the greatest part of the cocoa-nuts of his single tree, and the sea afforded him so few oysters, that he could not subsist on them alone. He therefore began again to be concerned, on account of his future sustenance. For fear of encountering wild beasts or savages, he had hitherto not dared to venture far from his habitation, But now necessity forced him, to take courage, and to look a little farther about him in the island, in order to disco- ver new provisions. He therefore resolved with the assis tance of God, to make a tour the day following. To screen himself from the scorching heat of the sun, he employed that evening, in making himself an umbrella. Nicholas. And where did he get the linen and whale. bone for it? + Father. He had neither linen, nor whalebone, nor knife, nor scissars, neither needle or thread, do and yet you think he set about making an umbrella? Nicholas. Nay, that I don't know! how Father. He took some willow twigs and twisted them inte a kind of a roof, in the middle of which he put a stick which he fasten'd with packthread of his own making; then he fetch'd some cocoa-leaves, which he fastened over his twisted roof with pins. 1 John. With pins! and pray, where did he get them? Father. Can't you gueſs? Charlotte. Oh I know! he certainly had found them among the sweepings, and between the boards on the floor; there I find some very often! John. 58 John. Oh, you have hit it finely! as if pins were to be found, where none were ever lost! And how could Ro- binson have any boards or sweepings in his cavern? Father. Well, who can gueſs it? How would you have done, if you had had any thing to fasten with pins and you had none? John. I should use prickles of thorns. Theophilus. And those of gooseberry bushes. Father. That's something. However 1 must tell you, that Robinson used neither the one nor the other, because he had never seen any thorns or gooseberry bushes in his island. John. Well, and what did he use then, pray? Father Fish- bones. The sea now and then threw dead fish on shore; and after they were either rotten or eaten by birds of prey, the bones remained on the shore. Of these, Robinson had gathered the strongest and sharpest & to use them instead of pins. By means of these bones, he made himself so close an umbrella, that the sun beams could not penetrate it. When ever he succeeded in any of the like undertakings, he felt an inexpressible joy, and then he used to say to himself: ,, What a fool was in my youth, to spend most of my time in idlenefs! Oh, if I were now in Europe and had those instruments, which are so easily to be had there how many things would I not make! What a joy it would be for me, to make myself most of the things I should have Occasion for! As it was not yet very late, it came into his head try, to whether he should not be able, to make himself a kind of pouch, to carry some provisions with him, and to bring back whatever eatables he should by chance discover. Ha ving a while reflected on the means, he was at last so hap py as to find them. Ha 59 Having already a good stock of packtbread, he resolved to make a net of it, and then to form it into a hunter'spouch. This he did in the following manner. He fastened his pack thread to two trees, about a yard distance from each other, and every thread as close as possible under the other; this was to be the Warp, as the weavers call it. This done, he began to fasten and to tie his threads from the top to the bottom very close, making a knot on every cross thread he met e), just as the net-makers do. These threads going up and down were consequently the Woof. And thus he soon made himself a net, not unlike a fishing-net. He then loosed the ends from the tree, fastened them together on one side and at the bottom, leaving the upper part open. And thus, he had a kind of a hunter'spouch, which he flung f) about his neck, with a small cord, made of packthread, fasten ed to the upper end of it. He could hardly sleep that whole night, for joy at the happy succefs of his undertaking. Theophilus. Oh, I should like to make myself such a bag too! Nicholas. And so should I; if we had but packthread. Mother. To be so delighted with your work, as Robinson was with his, you must make the packthread yourselves, and also prepare the flax and hemp with your own hands. But as this is not ripe enough yet, I'll give you some packthread Theophilus. Oh, will you, dear Mama! Mother. Most willingly, if you desire it. Come along, we will fetch some. Theophilus. Oh, that's excellent! Charlotte. You do very well, to imitate these things. For if you should happen one day or other to be cast on such an uninhabi ted Island, you will know, how to manage. Is it not true, Papa? Father. Very right, do so! Now we will let our Ro- binson sleep till to-morrow! --- In the mean time I'll see, if I cannot learn of him the art of making an umbrella. e) to meet. f) to fing. FIFTH FIFTH EVENING. The next evening, when the company were again assem- bled in their usual place, Nicholas appear'd with a hunter's bag of bis own making, by which he drew g) the eyes of all present upon him. Instead of an umbrella, he had bor- rowed a sieve from the cook, which he carried on a stick above his head. His whole deportment was grave and majestic. Mother. Bravo, Nicholas, that's well done. I had almost taken you for Robinson himself. John. I could not get my pouch ready, otherwise you should have seen me so too! Theophilus. This is just my case. Father. It is well, that one of you at least has finished one; -now we see, that it is possible, to make such things. But your umbrella, Nicholas, is good for nothing! Nicholas. Nay, I only wanted to have one for to-day, and I could not have a better one in so short a time! Father. Taking one of his own making from behind the hedge.) What do you say to this, Friend Robinson? Nicholas. Oh, that's a fine one! Father. I'll keep it, till we end our story, and he, who then can make most of those things, that Robinson made, shall be our Robinson and have this umbrella. Theophilus. Must he also make himself a hut? Father. Why not. g) to draw. All. 61 All. Oh, that is excellent! that is delightful! Father. Robinson could scarce wait till day-break; he rose hy before the sun, and prepared himself for his journey. He put his pouch about his shoulders, girded a rope round his waist, hung i: his hatchet in it, instead of a sword, then took his umbrella on his shoulder, and walked off very cheerfully. He first went to his cocoa - tree, to fill his bag with one or two nuts; then to the sea-shore, to get some oysters, and having provided himself with both and taken a draught of fresh water for his breakfast, he set cut on his journey. It was a charming morning, the sun was just then rising in all his lustre as out of the ocean and gilding the tops of the mountains and trees. A thousand small birds of various coulours were singing their morning lays, and rejoicing at the return of light. The air was as pure and as refreshing, as if it was just issuing out of the hands of the Creator; and herbs and flowers diffused their sweetest odours, " Robinson's heart dilated with joy and gratitude to his God. Here again," said he to himself, God shews Himfelf as the most bountiful!" He then mixed his voice with those of the birds, and sung k) with a loud voice as follows: My strengthen'd soul be thy first care To praiſe the mighty Lord; To praise thy God, my soul, prepare Thy song is not unheard. To guard myself too weak indeed, I slept in peace reclin'd; Then who protected me in need? Whose power lull'd my mind? 'Twas Thou, o Lord, 't was Thou alone, We move alone in Thee; F h) to rise. i) to hang. k) to sing. Thou Thou savest all, and Thou hast shewn Thy mercy new to me. Praised be hou, o Lord of might, Thy guardian care be prais'd, That has protected me all night, And now from sleep has rais'd. Grant me Thy choicest blessings still And guide me in Thy way; Teach Thou me, Lord! Thy holy will; And teach me to obey. Deign Thou my life here to regard; My soul on Thee does call; In danger deign to be my ward, My helper when I fall. Tune Thou my heard to godliness; Let me love all mankind; Let my heart still true happineſs. In Godly actions find. That I as Thy obedient child, May virtue's path explore; And not with stormy passions wild My soul to vice restore. That I may to all men be kind; To help them ne'er be slow; Let others wellfare warm my mind, Their virtues make it glow. That while I ftill enjoy life's space May thankfully amend; And that, at Thy decree; my race With cheerfulneſs may end. Theophilus. My dear Papa, will you give me a copy of that hymn, that I may read it every morning, when I rise? Father. With great pleasure. Friend -63 Friend R. And I will teach you the tune to it; and then we may sing it before morning prayers. Nicholas Oh! that's fine; it is an excellent hymn! Father. As Robinson was still greatly afraid of wild beasts and savages, he avoided thickets and woods as much as possible during the course of his journey, and rather chose those parts of the island, where he had a free pro- spect on all sides. But these were the most barren parts of the island. He therefore had proceeded a great way, with- out discovering any thing from which he could derive any advantage. At last he spied a plant, which he thought deserved a closer examination. These plants stood together in small tufts. Some had reddish, others whitish blossoms, and others again bore ) small green apples, about the size of a cherry. He immediately pulled one off, and tasted it; but find. ing it not at all eatable he with indignation pulled a whole bush out of the ground, and was going to fling it away, when, to his great astonishment, he discovered a great num. ber of large and small round knobs at the root of it. He in, stantly supposed these to be the proper fruit of the plant, and began to examine them a little nearer. He put one between his teeth m) and when he found it hard and tasteless, was going to fling it away, but happi- ly he recollected, that they might be good for something, though he could not directly discover for what. So he put some of them into his pouch, and proceeded on his journey. John. I know, what they were, Father. Well! and what then? John, Why potatoes! they grow just so as you describ ed them. F 2 b) to bear. m) the tooth. Dick. 64 Dick. And originally they come from America ! thence! Theophilus. Yes, Sir Francis Drake brought n) them from But Robinson was very stupid, not to know them. Father. And pray! how come you to know them? Theophilus. Why, because I have often seen and eaten them; they are my favourite dish! Father. But Robinson had never seen or eaten any before. Theophilus. No? Father. No; because in his time they were not at all known in Germany. They came to us about forty years ago, and it is above two hundred years, son lived. Theophilus. Nay then since our Robin Father. You see, dear Theophilus, how wrong it is to censure other people so inconsiderately? We must first place ourselves in their condition and reflect, whether we should have acted better than they? Had you never seen any po. tatoes, and never heard how they are dressed, you would not know, what to do with them, any more than Robin. son. Let this caution you for the future, never to think yourself wiser than other people. Theophilus. Kifs me, dear Papa, I shall never do so any more. Father. Robinson continued his journey, but slowly and with precaution. The least rustling of the wind in the trees and bushes frightened him, and made him lay hold of his hatchet, to defend himself in case of need; but to his great joy, he always found, he had been terrified without reason. At lenght he came to a brook, where he determined to ta- ke his dinner. Here he sat down under a thick shady tree, and had already begun to eat very heartily when all of 4) to bring. a 65 a sudden, he was terribly frighten'd by a distant noise. He looked fearfully round him, and discovered a whole drove Nicholas. Of savages, to be sure! Theophilus. Or Lions and tigers. Father. Neither of them! but a whole drove of wild a- nimals, bearing some resemblance to our deer, except that their necks were much longer, which made them look some what like camels, and their heads something like our horses; as for the rest, they were not much larger than our sheep. If you desire to know, what animals they were, and how they are called, I will tell you. John. Oh yes, do! : Father. They are called Lamas (Llamas) and sometimes Guanaokas. Their proper country is this part of America, (pointing to the map) which belongs to Spain, and is called Peru for which reason they are also called peruvian sheep, tho', the wool excepted, they have nothing common with the sheep. The Americans here, before they were discove- red by the Europeans, had tamed this animal, and used it like an aſs, to carry burthens. Of their wool they uſed to make stuffs for cloathes. John. The Peruvians then must not have been so savage as the other inhabitants of America were. : Father. Not, by a great deal! They, as well as the Mexicans (here in North America), lived in houses regularly built, had magnificent temples, and were governed by kings Theophilus. Is not that the country, from which the Spaniards get so much gold and silver, and send it home in their gallions, as you have told us? Father. The very faine! When Robinson faw theſe animals, which we also shall call Lamas, he felt a great appetite for a piece of roast meat, which he had not tasted F 3 66 a good while, and he greatly wished, to kill one of them, To this end he placed himself behind a tree with his stone- hatchet, in hopes, that one or other of them should come near enough, so that he might strike it on the head and kill it. He succeeded. These harmleſs animals, which, no doubt had never been disturbed here, passed the tree, behind which Robinson had hid o) himself, without any fear, and one of them, a young one, coming within his reach, gave it such a violent ſtroke on the neck with his hatchet, that it immediately fell dead on the ground. he Charlotte. Oh fie! how could he do so? The poor little sheep! Mother. And why should be not? Charlotte. Why, the little animal had done him no harm and so he ought not to have killed it! Mother. But he wanted the flesh of this animal for his sustenance, and don't you know, that God has allowed us to make use of animals, to whatever purpose we need them? Father. To kill or torment a poor innocent animal without nesessity, would be cruelty; and no good man will ever do so. But we are allowed to use them, to what they are good for, and to eat their flesh. Have you forgot, what I explained to you the other day, that it is even good for animals, that we use them so? John. Oh, yes! And if we did not make use of animals, and we should not take the trouble, to provide for them, then they would not be near so well off, as they are now, and many of them would be starved in winter. Dick. And they would suffer a great deal more, if we 'did not kill them, but let them die of sicknefs and old age; because they are not able to help each other, as men can、 Fa. ⚫) to hide. 67 Father. And then we must not think, that our method of killing animals is so painful to them, as it seems to us. They never know before hand, that they are going to be killed, and so are very easy and contented till their last moment. And the sensation of pain, while they are killing is no sooner felt p), but it is over. Robinson had scarce knocked down the Lama, when he began to consider, how he should be able to drefs its flesh? Charlotte. Why, could he not boil or roast it? Father. That he would most willingly have done; but unluckily for him, he wanted all conveniences for this pure pose. He had neither pot nor spit, and what was still Worse he even had no fire. Charlotte. No fire! why could he not make some? Father. To be sure, he might, if he had had a ſteel and tinder, - a flint and matches! But, alas! he had no- thing of all this! John. I know, what I should have done! Father. And what? ? John. I should have rubbed two pieces of dry wood one against the other, till they had taken fire at last, as we read one day in the history of travels, that the savages did. Father. Our Robinson recollected the same method; he therefore took his dead Lama on his shoulders, and made the best of his way back to his habitation. On his return he made an other discovery, no lefs agree- able to him; for he met 9) with six or eight lemon trees under which he found some ripe lemons: these he care- fully gathered, marked the place, and then, with great satisfaction, hastened back to his dwelling. Being arrived there, his first busineſs was, to skin the young lama. This he did by means of a sharp stone, which F 4 he p) to feel. 4) to meet. 68 he used instead of a knife. He spread the skin in the sun -. as well as he could in order to dry it, because he foresaw r), it would one time or other, be very useful to him, John. And pray, what could he do with it? Father. He might use it several ways. In the first place, his shoes and stockings began to wear out; and he thought in case of need, he might make himself soles or sandales. of that skin, and tie them round his feet; that he might not be quite barefoot. Besides he was greatly afraid of the winter, and therefore very glad, to be provived with furs, and by these means secured from perishing with cold. It is true, his fear was needlefs, because there never is any winter in this country. Theophilus. Never any winter? Father. No! There is never any winter in all those hot climates here between the tropics, as I lately explained to you. But instead of that, there are long continuing rains, during two or three months. But Robinson knew nothing of all this, because he had not been properly instructed in his youth. John. But, Papa! I think, we once read, that the Pico of Teneriffa, and the Cordilleras in Peru, are always cover- ed with snow? Thero consequently it must be always win. and yet they are all situated between the tropics. ter, Father. You are right, my dear John; but very high mountainous countries are exceptions: for the tops of such high mountains are always covered with snow. Do you re- member, what I told you of some countries in the East-In- dies, when we lately took a voyage thither on the map? John Oh yes! That in some parts there summer and winter are only a few miles asunder! As on the isle of Cey lon, in the Indian Ocean, and where pray, where is it? r) to forefee. Fa. 69 on the Father. On the foremost peninsula. When it is winter on this side of the Gauts on the coast of Malabar, it is summer on the other side of these mountains, coast of Coromandel; and so the reserve. The same is said to be observed in the island of Zeram, one of the Moluc cas, were one needs only go three miles, to come from the cold of winter into the heat of summer, and again from a hot into a cold country. But we are again at a great distance from our Robin. son. Only see how our mind can in a trice transport it. self into countries and places many thousand miles distant from one another! From America we flew s) to Asia and ΠΟΥ mind me! hush, and lo! and lo! we are back again in America, in our friend Robinson's island. Is not that wonderful? Having skinned his Lamas and taken out the entrails, he cut off a hind quarter to roast it, and then his next care was to make a spit. For this purpose he took a very young slender tree, stript t) it of the bark, and sharpened it at one end. Then he looked for a couple of forky branches, to lay his spit on. These he also sharpened, and knocked them into the ground, opposite to each other, spitted his meat, placed the spit on the forks, and was not a little rejoiced, to see how well he could turn it. he cut Now the most necessary of all was still wanting, I mean fire. In order to produce it by friction, two pieces of wood from a withered tree, and fell t) a working directly. He rubbed till the sweat rolled down in great drops from his face, but all to no purpose, for just when the wood was so hot that it smoked, he found himself so tired, that he was obliged, to stop a little, in order to recruit himself, in which time the s) to fly.) to strip. #) to fall. wood 70 wood always grew cold again; and all his labour proved. fruitlefs. the He now again felt v) in the most sensible manner, helpleſs condition of a solitary life, and the many advanta ges, afforded to us by the society of men. Had he but one person to continue rubbing, when he was fatigued, he would certainly have made the wood burn. But being quite alone, it was impossible for him. John. And yet I think, that the savages make fire by rubbing the wood in the manner you say. Father, So they do. But those savages are generally stronger, than we Europeans, we are too delicately brought w) up; and then they know much better, how to set a- bout such things. They take two pieces of different wood, one hard and the other soft. The former they rub with great quickneſs against the latter, which takes fire. Or else they make a hole in one, and sticking the other into it, turn it so very quickly in their hands, till it takes fire at last. Robinson ignorant of this method, could not succeed. Quite dejected at last, he flung x) the two pieces of wood down to the ground, and laid himself on his couch. There he lay in a very melancholy mood; his head leaned on his hand, and with a deep sigh he often cast a look on the fine piece of meat, which, for want of fire, he could not eat. But when he reflected on the approaching winter, and what then would become of him, if he had no fire, he fell into such an agony of grief, that he jum ped up from his couch and walked about, to recover him- self a little. As his blood was now in great agitation, he grew very dry and went to the fpring to fetch a draught of fresh wa. ter in his cocoa-shell. This water he mixed with some le- v) to feel, w) to bring. ) to fling. mon- 71 D mon juice, which made it a fine cooling drink, and was very acceptable to him in this situation. But still his mouth watered after a piece of roast meat, of which he would gladly have eaten a slice. At last he re collected to have once heard, that the Tartars, human cre. atures as well as himself, put the meal they intend to eat, under their saddles, and then ride on it till it is tender. This, argued he, might possibly be done in another man. ner, and he resolved to set about instantly. To this end he went y) and fetched two pretty smooth broad flat stones of the same kind his hatchet was of; between these he laid some meat, without bones, and began to strike vigourous- ly on the upper stone with his mallet. He had scarce done 80, for ten minutes, when the stone began to grow hot. He now redoubled his blows, and in leſs than half an hour the meat was become so tender, by the heat of the stones, caused by his incessant beating upon it, that it was become perfectly eatable. It is true, it was not so palatable, as if it had been pro perly roasted. But for Robinson, who in so long a time had tasted no meat at all, it was a great delicacy. Oh ye nice countrymen of mine!" cried he,,, who so often loath the best victuals, because they do not suit your dainty pa- lates: were you but for eight days in my place, you would be very well pleased afterwards with whatever food God Al. mighty should send you! You would take care, never to be again ungrateful to the all nourishing bounty of provi dence !" In order to highten the savour of this dish, he sqeezed a little lemon juice upon it, and then made such a meal, as he had not done a long while. Neither did he forget to addrefs his very fervent thanks to the giver of all good things. y) to go. When 72 When his dinner was ended, he began to consider what was now the most indispensable occupation for him to do? The fear of the winter, which this day had grown so strong within him, made him resolve, to spend some days in kil ling a great many lamas, and make a store of their skins. As they seemed to be so very tame, he hoped, to obtain his wish without much trouble. Full of these hopes he went to rest, and a soft refresh- ing sleep richly rewarded him for all the fatigues of that day. SIXTH SIXTH EVENING. (The father continues.) Our Robinson slept a) that time, till the day was far advanced. When he awoke b), he was surprized to find it was already fo late, and hastily jumped up in order to set out in search of lamas. But heaven had ordained it otherwise. For just when he had put his head out of his hole, he was forced to draw it quickly back again. Charlotte. And why so? 1 Father. The rain poured down with such violence, that it was not possible for him to stir out: he therefore resolved to stay, till the shower was over. But the rain did not abate, on the contrary, it still encreased with violence. At times there came such flashes of lightning, that his dark cavern seemed to be all in fire; and then such violent claps of thunder followed, as he had never heard before. The earth trembled with the most ter rible rumbling, and the mountain sent c) forth such many. fold echoes, that the frightful noise seemed to have no end. As Robinson had received a bad education possessed with a foolish fear of lightning. Theophilus. Of thunder and lightning! G a) to sleep. b) to awake. c) to send. ર he was pret Fa 74 Father. Yes, they frightened him so much, that he did not know, what to do with himself for fear. Theophilus. That is something so majestic! why then was he afraid of it? Father. Nay, that I can't tell; probably, because so- metimes houses are set on fire, and now and then a person is also killed by it. John. Yes, but that happens so very seldom. I have now lived a good while, and yet I don't remember, that ever a man was killed by lightning. , Theophilus. And if there were why one dies so quickly, and then we go to God Almighty, and what does it signify then? Dick. Ob, what a fine sight is it, to see the lightning! it cools the air finely, and it is so awful a spectacle, when the lightning darts from the black clouds! Charlotte. Oh! I like to see it! Won't you take us out again, dear Papa, when it lightens, that we may see it? Father. Oh yes, I will! Robinson, you know, had been poorly instructed in his youth, and therefore he was ignorant how beneficial thunder is; how it purifies the air. how it makes every thing grow well in the fiels and garden; how men and animals, trees and plants, are so agreeably refreshed by it! He sat d) now in a corner of his cavern, frightened to death with his hands folded, in the mean while the rain poured down in great abondance, flashes of lightning shot e) thro' the air, and claps of thunder succeeded each other with redoubled violence. It was almost noon, and yet the violence of the tempest had not in the least abated. He did not feel any hunger, for the terror, he was in, did not suffer him to think of it. But his soul was the d) to sit. e) to_shoot, more 75 more tormented with frightful ideas: The time is come," he thought,, that God will punish me for all my past transgressions! He has withdrawn his paternal hand from me; I must now perish, and shall never see my poor pa- rents again." Friend R. Now, I must own, I am not at all pleased with our friend Robinson! Nicholas. And why not, pray? Friend R. Why? has not God. Almighty done already 80 much for him, that by his own experience he might very well know, that God does not forsake any body that confides in him, and endeavours to mend? Had he not already saved him from the most imminent dangers? Had he not already helped him so far, that he had no need to fear any longer to die with hunger; and yet he was de jected! fie! that is impardonable ! - } " but let us have: Mother. I am of your opinion dear R. compassion on the poor fellow! It was but lately he bad begun f) to reflect, and consequently it was impossible for him, to be so perfect as one, who from his earliest youth has been endeavouring to amend, Father. You are right, my dear! Give me your hand! and take this kifs for your compassion on my poor Robinson, who, some time since is become very dear to me, because I perceive him to be in a good way. Whilst he was thus sitting in fear and apprehension, the tempest seemed at last to abate. In proportion as the vio- lence of the thunder and rain seemed to lessen, hope by degrees revived in his soul. Now he thought he might at last venture out, and was just going to lay hold of his pouch and his hatchet, when all of a sudden you think? he fell senselefs on the ground. Ga what do John. f) to begin 76 John. Well! and what ailed him then? Father. Rrrrrr bounce! it went over his head; the earth trembled and Robinson fell down as dead. The lightning had struck g) into a tree, which stood on the top of his cave, and rent h) it to pieces, with so dreadful a noise, that poor Robinson lost i) sight and hearing, and thought he was himself struck dead. He remained a long while on the ground without knowing any thing of himself, At last, perceiving that he was still alive, he rose up, and the first thing he discovered at the entrance of his cave, was a piece of the tree, that had been rent and flung k) down by the lightning. This was a new misfortune to him! What could he now fasten his ladder to, if the whole tree, as he thought, was struck 'down? The rain and thunder being now entirely over, he at last ventured out, and what do you think he saw? Something which instantly filled his heart with thanks and love to his bountiful Creator, and with the greatest sense of shame at his former despondency! He saw the trunk of the tree, into which the lightning had struck, all in a blaze. He now found himself in possession of what he wan ted most, and divine providence had most visibly provided for him at that very time, when in his great anxiety he thought himself forsaken! ▸ Mother. How wonderful! What Robinson looked upon as his greatest misfortune, now proved to be his greatest happiness. But divine providence has always such wise and beneficial designs, when it suffers any evil to happen in the world. Father. Providence does the same with us, as I did to day with a wood-louse, to strike. h) to rend. ) lose. k) to fling. Mo- 77 Mother How so? Father. I was cleaving wood; and just when I was about to strike with my hatchet, I perceived a wood-louse sit- ting in a split, into which I was going to strike. Why kill the poor thing without need, thought I, and blew ) it three paces from me, as if it had been whirl'd away by a storm. Now I reflected, how the little short sighted fool might reason on this accident. ,, What an unfriendly tyrant 39 " " that huge two legged creature must be!" it might think, to make such a violent hurricane, which flings me head ,, over heels out of my house! and what does it avail him? I really believe, he did it only, to see me, poor worm, whirl'd thro' the air!" Thus it might have reason'd, if animals could reason properly; it little thought, I suppose, that I did so merely out of kindneſs; and yet I really did. Let us, my dear children, always think of this wood louse, whenever we are tempted to judge so unreasonably and ungratefully of the dispositions of Providence of which we know as little, as the wood-louse did of my intention. With inexpressible sentiments of joy and gratitude, Ro binson lifted up his hands to heaven, and thanked the bountiful, the all directing Father of mankind, who in the most dreadful accidents has always the most wise and kind. est intentions: Oh!" cried he with a loud voice and tears of joy in his eyes:,, what is man! that short sighted worm who dares to murmur at what God, the wise ruler of the world is doing, and what he can not comprehend!" " Now he had got fire without the least trouble, and it was easy for him to keep this fire, and he needed not to be so concern'd about his future sustenance in this desolated is- land. That day he did not go a hunting, as his inten- tion first was, because he would immediately take advan- G 3 1) to blow. tage 3078 tage of the fire, and roast his meat, which had been spit. ted since the day before. • As the lower part of the burning trunk, to which his ladder was fastened, was yet unhurt, he might safely mount. He did so, took a fire brand, got down with it to the place, which he had inclosed before his habitation and made an excellent fire, to roast his meat. After which he got up again to the burning tree, and put out the fire. All this being done, he performed the business of a scul lion, in keeping up the fire and turning his spit with great diligence. His fire was an object of uncommon joy to him, and greatly affected him. He considered it as a very valua❤ ble gift of God, which he had sent him down from the clouds, and whilst he was reflecting on the great advanta ges, it might afford him, he often lifted up his eyes with gratitude to heaven. And afterwards, whenever he saw any fire, or only thought of it, his second thought always was a This God Almighty has granted me also. Friend B. No wonder, that some people thought, that fire, by which all that lives on earth is preserved, was God himself! Jonh. Did some people believe so? Friend B. Yes, John! God be praised that we are better informed, and know, that fire is not God, but only a gift of him, created for our sake, the same as wa ter, earth and air! Father. Robinson had, at his last night's supper missed the salt in the taste of his meat, and hoped for the future, to find some in his island. For this time. he ran to the sea- shore and fetch'd a cocoa-shell full of sea-water. With this he basted his meat several times, and by that means seasoned it in some measure. At last it seemed sufficiently done, and he, who like Robinson has not tasted a mouthful of welldressed meat in four 79 ' four weeks, and given up all hopes of ever tasting any again, may describe the joy he felt, when he cut the first piece of meat and put the first morsel into his mouth. Now the great question was, how to prevent the fire from going out. Theophilus. Oh, that he might very easily, by putting always fresh wood to it. Father. Very well; but if a shower of rain should hap- pen to fall in the night time, when he was asleep, what then? → Charlotte. I'll tell you what, Papa! I should have ma- 'de a fire in my cavern, where the rain could not come. Father. Very well imagined! Bnt unluckily for him, his cavern was so very small, that it was only large enough for him to lie in, and as it had no chimney, he could not have staid in it for smoak. Charlotte. Why, then I can't help him! other to John. There must always be something or puzzle him. One is often apt to think him completely hap py: but, your humble servant! some new obstacle always starts in view! Father. By this we see, how infinitely difficult it is for any single man, to provide himself with all he wants, and how great the advantages are, which social life affords Oh, my children! we should be but poor wretched crea- tures, if every one of us were forced, to live by himself, and if no body had the comfort of his fellow creatures as sistance! A thousand hands are not sufficient to prepare, what a single man wants every day! John. Oh, Papa! Father, Don't you think so, my dear John? Well! let us see what you have eat, drunk and wanted to day. In the first place you have slept till sun rise in a good commodious bed, have not you? G4 'John. 80 John. On a matrafs. Father. Right! These matrasses are filled with horse- hair. These have been cut by two human hands, weighed and sold m) by two others; they have been packed up and sent away by two more; two received and unpacked them; two again have sold them to the saddler or uphols- terer. These hair, which were entangled, were pickt out by the hands of the upholsterer, who put them into a matrals. The covering of the matraſs is made of striped li and whence does that come? nen, John. It has been made by the linen weaver. Father. And what does he want, to make it? John. Why, a loom, and yarn, and a reel and warping bars, and paste, and Father. Very well! How many hands were required, to make a weaver's loom? We'll only suppose a few twenty! The paste is made of flour. How many hands are there not required, before we can get flour! How many hundred hands must not be employed, to make all what is necessary for a mill, in which the corn is ground! But weavers chiefly want yarn, and where do they get that? John. That is spun n) by women. Father. Out of what? John. Out of flax. Father. And do you know, thro' how many hands the flax must pals, before it can be spun? John. Oh yes, that we have lately reckoned over! In the first place the husbandman must sift the linseed, to clean it from the seeds of weeds; then the land must dunged and ploughed a couple of times, before the seed is sowed and harrowed in. When the young flax grows up, a great num ber of women and girls come to weed it. Being at its full growth, 1 m) to sel, n) to spin, 81 growth, it is pulled out by the roots, and drawn o) through the ripple comb, to take the seeds off. .. Nicholas. Yes! and then it is tied up in small bundles, and laid in water! Dick. And when it is soaked enough, it is taken out again. — Theophilus. Then they spread it in the sun, to dry it Frederic. And then it is broke p) on the brake. Charlotte. I beg your pardon, Sir; first it is dried in the oyen! Is not it, Papa? Frederic. Yes! And then it is broke, and then Charlotte. Then it is hackled on the hackle, which is full of sharp wires, to take out the tow. see Dick. And then they do something else with it let me I know it. Oh, I'll tell you directly! — Then they scutch it, on the scutching stocks. Father. Now take this all together and consider, how much is to be done, before we can get linen; consider at the same time, how much work all the instruments require, which the husbandman, the flax cleaner and the spinner stand in need of: and you will allow, that I do not say too many, when I assure you, that more than a thousand hands have been employed, in making only the matrals, on which you sleep so softly. Theophilus. Astonishing! a thousand hands! Father. Now consider, how many other things you daily want, and then tell me, if it is to be wondered at, that Robinson was for ever in want of something or other, as no other hands, excepting his own, were working for him? And as he had not one of all those tools, with which things are so easily made among us? A Now he was at a lofs, how to prevent his dear fire from G 5 o) to draw. p) to break. going 82 going out. He rubbed his forehead, as if he wanted to rub some lucky thought out of it; then he walked with his arms acroſs and hasty strides up and down in his in- closure, and for a long time he did not know, what to resolve upon. At last casting his eyes on the steep wall of the hill, be directly knew, what he had to do. Dick. How so? Father. About a yard above the ground, there was a very large and thick stone, jutting out from this wall, Frederic How large might it be? Father. I could never get an exact description of it; but I suppose, it was near my length, and about a full yard in breadth and thickneſs. Though it had rained very hard, this large stone was not in the least yet the ground under wet, but as dry, 20 if it had been covered with a roof. Robinson directly con- ceived, that this spot might serve as good and secure fire- place. But his observations did not stop here. He percei ved that it would be very easy for him, to make a proper kitchen, fire.hearth and chimney in this place, and he res solved, to set about it directly. With his spade he dug 7) a hole about a yard deep just under this large stone. Then he resolved, to make a wall on each side up to this large stone. Theophilus. But how could he make a wall, pray? Father. As he now observed every thing, he met r) and saw s), with the greatest exactneſs, and always asked himself: what may that be good for? he had not left ), a particular sort of clay unnoticed, which he had seen in one part of his island; on the contrary he directly conceived the idea, that it might serve him to make bricks to build a wall, 9) to dig. r) to meet. s) to see. ) to leave. This 83 This he now recollected again, and having almost dug the hole for his kitchen, he took his spade and stone- knife, and went to the place, where this clay was to be found u), in order to set about the work directly. As it had rained very much, the clay was so soft, that he could get it out without any great trouble; he then for med it into square- bricks and smoothed them with his kni- fe. Having in a short time got a considerable number of them ready, he placed them in rows, where the sun could shine on them the whole day. He resolved to continue this work the next day and now went home again, to eat the remainder of his roast meat, for his diligent labour had procured him a very good appetite. Now that he might on such a joyful day make a prince's feast, he indulged him、 self so far, as to take one of the few remaining cocoa-nuts along with him. • This meal was most excellent. -- Ah! said Robinson, sighing with joy and with an affected heart Ah! how happy should I be now, if I had but a single friend, only one of my own species, nay the most miserable beggar for my companion, whom I might tell, that I loved him, and who could tell me again, that he loved me! Were Ibut so happy, to have some tame animal 2 be kind to, and gain its affection! to be so debarred from all living of grief trickled down his cheeks. a dog or a cat - to But so quite alone creatures! Here a tear He now remembered the time, which he used to spend in disputes and quarrels with his brothers and other compa⚫ nions, and reflected on it with the bitterst remorse. Ah! said he to himself, how little did I then know the great value of a friend, and how indispensably necessary the af fec #) to find. 84 fection of other men is to our happineſs! Oh that I could retrieve my younger days! How friendly, how kind, how indulgent would I be to my brothers and other children! How willingly would I suffer trivial offences, and force all mankind, by my goodneſs and friendly conduct, to love Good God! Why did I not know the high value of that happineſs, which friendship affords, untill it was lost 2) for me lost for ever! me! he Then casting accidentally his eyes towards his cavern, perceived a spider, that had extended her web in a corner. The thought of sleeping with some living creature under one roof, seem'd so comfortable, that is was quite indifferent to him now, what kind of animal it was. He resolved to catch flies every day, for his spider, to make this creatu- re sensible, it was in a safe and friendly place, and if possible to tame it. As it was still broad day, and the air, which had been cooled by the thunder, so very refreshing, he resolved not to go to bed yet; and to spend his time with some thing useful, he took his spade, and went on to clear his kitchen from the mould. Whilst he was digging, he hit upon something so yery hard in the ground, that it almost broke his spade. He thought w) it was a stone. But how great was his astonishment, when, on taking out the lump, he discover ed, that it was - solid gold. Theophilus. Good son is! gracious how lucky that Robins Father, Very lucky, indeed! The lump of gold was so large, that it might have produced a hundred thousand dollars if coined. Now he was at once become a very rich man; and how many things could he not buy now? He could v) to lose. w) to think. J 85 could get a palace built a ), keep his own coach, servants running foot-men, apes, monkies: nay, apes, monkies: nay, he could even Theophilus. Aye! But pray, where could he get all these things in his island, there being nobody, who had any thing to sell? Father. Why! Aye, I did not think of that! But our Robinson thought of it directly. Instead of rejoicing at the treasure he had found, he kicked it away with con. tempt, saying: Lie there, miserable lump, which men so much dote on, and covet. Of what use art thou to me? Had I found a good piece of iron instead of thee, I might have made myself a knife or hatchet of it! How willingly, would I now give this gold for a handful of iron-nails, any other useful tool!" and so he left b) the precious trea- sure with contempt, and whenever he afterwards past c】 by, he scarce deigned to cast a look upon it. or Charlotte. I'll tell you what, Papa; Robinson did just as the cock. Fatner. What cock? Charlotte. Why! have you forgot the fable you once told us? There was once a cock Father. Well? Charlotte. That was scratching on a dunghill, and found what do you call it? Father. A diamond. Charlotte. Oh, aye! it was a diamond, and he said: Of what use art thou to me, thou glittering thing? had I found a barley - corn, instead of thee, I should have been better pleased. And so he left the diamond and troubled himself no more about it. Father. Very right; Robinson did just so with his lump of gold. Now, night was coming on, the sun had long since sunk d) into the sea - H a) to build. b) to leave. ´c) to paſs. d) to sink, The 86 Theophilus. Into the sea? Father. So it appears to those, who live in an island, .or on the seashore towards the west. There it seems to them, as if the sun was sinking down into the sea, when he sets, and for, that reason it is sometines customary to say so, as if he really did. Now the friendly moon rose on the opposite side of the sky, and darted her friendly beams into Robinson's cave, so agreeably, that at first he could not sleep, for this de lightful spectacle, Charlotte. Oh, look, dear Papa, yonder is our moon coming too! John. Oh, aye, how glorious she looks! Frederic. Why does Papa pull off his cap? John. (Whispering.) Frederic, I believe he is praying to God. Frederic. (Whispering to John.) And why, pray? John. (Whispering.) I believe he is returning thanks to God, for having created that glorious moon. Father. (After a pause.) Now, my children, Robinson is asleep, while his fire is slowly burning on, kept e) up by some pieces of wood; what do you intend to do in the mean time? Nicholas. Oh! shall we not go to our arbour, before we go to bed? Theophilus. Oh yes, to the arbour! Father, Well, come along, my children, we will sing a hymn of praise to our Creator, by the light of his glo- n, for the joys of the past day. rious moon, And thus they all went joyfully to the arbour. c) to keep. SE- SEVENTH EVENIN G. The following evening John, Nicholas and Theophilus pulled the father out of the door of the house by his arms and the skirts of his coat; and as they cried for help, the rest came also running up, and so they dragged him out of the house, without any further ceremony. Father. Well, where are you going to drag me to, with such violence? John. To the graſs-plot under the apple tree! Father. What do you want with me there? Nicholas. Oh, our Robinson! pray! pray!· Theophilus, Oh aye, Robinson! and you shall be my best, my dearest Papa! Father. Yes, yes, that's well enough; but I fear, my Robinson will not delight you any more! John. Not delight us? Who can say so? pray! Father. No body; but if I am not mistaken, I saw so- me of you yawning last night, and that is generally a sign, that people don't find themselves well entertained. • Theophilus. Oh no, certainly not! that was only be cause we had been digging so much in our garden. No won. der one grows a little sleepy, after having dug f) the whole afternoon.. H. a Ni- f) to dig. 88 Nicholas. To day we have only been weeding and wate ring the lettuce plants, and we are not in the least tired. Charlotte. No, not in the least fatigued. Look how I can jump. Father. If you'll have it so, I will continue; but you must tell me, when you begin to grow tired of my history. John. Oh yes! well? Father. As the heat in Robinson's island was so very in- tolerable in the day time, he was forced to do the work, he intended, in the morning and evening. He therefore got up before sunrise, put fresh wood to his fire and breakfasted on half the cocoa-nut, which he had left the day before. He was now going to spit another piece of his lama, but he found, that the meat was already tainted; on account of the great heat. He was therefore compelled to paſs that day without meat. When he was ready to set out for the place, where he had made his bricks, and putting his hunter's bag over his head, he found those patatoes in it, which he had acci. dentally picked up two days before on his return home. The thought struck him to put them in some hot ashes near the fire, and see how they would be, when roasted? After which he set out. He so vigorously prosecuted his work that, before noon, he had made as many clay bricks as he thought sufficient to make the wall round his kitchen; then he went to the sea. shore, to look for some oysters. But instead of oysters of which he found but very few, he discovered to his great joy another kind of food, which was much better. John. And what was that, pray? Father. It was an animal, which he had indeed never tasted himself; but he had often heard, that the flesh of it was very palatable and nourishing. John. Well, and what was it then? Fa. 82 Father. A turtle, and so very large, that the like of it is sel dom seen in this country. It might weigh near hundred pounds. Theophilus. Oh, that must have been a prodigious lar ge turtle Are there really any so large? John. Oh, there are soine much larger yet. Don't you remember, what Papa once read to us in our history of voyages? Those, that were caught g) by the travellers in the south-sea? Why, those were of three-hundred weight. Theophilus. Three-hundred weight! Why that is asto- nishing and Father. Robinson took his turtle on his shoulder, made a shift, to get home with it as well as he could. Here he struck h) with his hatchet on the lower shell, till it broke ). Then he took the turtle, and killed it, and cut off a large piece to roast. This he spitted, and being very hungry by working so much, he waited with impatience, till it was done. Whilst he was turning the spit, he considered, what he should do with the rest of the turtle, to preserve it from putrefaction? To pickle it, he wanted a tub and salt. Charlotte. Pray, what do you call, to pickle? Father. It is, to lay meat, which one wishes to pre serve, into a tub, and sprinkle it over with salt; didn't you see, how Mama pickled her pork. this winter? Charlotte Oh, yes! John. This art was invented by William Bökel, to salt herrings, Oacher. Robinson then saw with great concern, that his whole turtle, which might have served him a fortnight and longer, would be quite spoiled by to morrow; and yet he knew no means how to salt it But a new thought occurred to him. The upper shell of the turtle was hollow like a H 3 tray. g) to catch. ) to strike. i) to break. yo tray. This he thought he might use instead of a tub. But, where could he now get salt? " What a blockhead am I?" said he to himself, slap- ping his forehead. Can not I pour sea-water upon it, which will be near as good, as if I salted the meat? Oh ,,excellent! excellent!" cried he for joy, and turned his spit with more cheerfulneſs than before. Now his meat was done. Alas!" cried Robinson, af- ter having tasted a nice piece of it with great delight,„, had 1 but a bit of bread with it! How stupid was I in my youth, not to know, what a great value a piece of dry bread is! Then I would never eat it without butter and sometimes cheese besides! Oh, what a fool I was! Had I but a piece of brown bread now, such as they used to bake for our garden. dog, how happy should I think my- self!" 25 During these exclamations he recollected the potatoes, which he had that morning put into the ashes. I'll see," said he,,, how they are ;" and so he went to fetch one of them. But what new cause of joy! The hard potatoe was now so tender, that, when he broke it, there arose k) such an agreeable smell from it, that he did not hesitate a mo- ment, to put a piece of it into his mouth. And the taste of it was so pleasant, so pleasant as who will help me now to make a comparison? Friend B. So pleasant, as the taste of a potatoe! Father. That is expressing the matter at once! SO the taste of this roasted potatoe, was so pleasant, as the taste of a potatoe, and Robinson immediately perceived to his great satisfaction, that this root might serve him instead of bread. He therefore made a most excellent meal, After which he laid k) to arise. 91 " " laid himself down for a while on his couch, on account of the scorching heat of the sun; and during the time he could not work, he gave himself up to all sorts of reflections. What am I to do next?" thought he The bricks must first be hardened in the sun, before I can begin my wall. It will therefore be best for me, to go a hunting in the mean time, and kill a couple of lamas. But what shall I do with so much meat? What, trived my kitchen so, " " if I con- as to be able to smoke meat in it? excellent!" cried he, jumping up from his couch and stepping to the place, where he intended to make his kitchen, to consider how to execute this design? } He soon found, that it would do very well. He only needed to make a couple of holes, in the two side-walls, put a stick through and hang his meat upon them to smoke it. His head was almost giddy with joy at this lucky thought. What would he not have given, if his bricks had already been hard enough, to set directly about this important work? But what could he do? He was obliged to wait, till the şun had hardened his bricks. But, what should he do this afternoon? While he was reflecting on this, a new thought occurred to him which in excellence was greatly superior to all those, he had hitherto conceived. He was quite astonished at his stu* pidity, not to have thought of it before. John. And, what was it? Father. Nothing leſs, than to tame some animals, for his company and entertainment! Theophilus, Ab, some Lamas, to be sure! Father. Very right! Hitherto he had not yet seen any other animals. As these lamas seemed to be very tame, he hoped to be able, to catch some of them alive. Theophilus. Oh, that will be charming! I should like to be with him to catch one for myself too, Oa. 92 Father. But in what manner would you catch them, dear Theophilus? I suppose, they were not so tame, as to be taken with your hands. Theophilus But, how would Robinson set about it then? Father. That was the question now, and he resolved. in his mind many different schemes for that purpose. But if a man earnestly desires to do a thing which is not im possible in itself, and he continues reflecting on it, very few will be found too difficult for his understanding and as- siduity. So great and manifold are the faculties, with which our bountiful Creator has endowed us! Mind this, my children! and you will never need to despair of success in any difficult undertaking, if you have but resolution enough, not to desist, till you have carried your point. Persevering industry, continued reflections, and indefatigable courage have often brought things to bear, which before were deemed impossible. You must therefore never be deterred by any difficulty, you meet with in any thing; but rather reflect, that the greater your efforts are to accomplish any thing, the greater will be your joy, when finished. Our Robinson too succeeded in a short time, in finding the means, how to catch some lamas alive. John. Well! Father. He resolved to contrive a rope in such a man. ner, 2.8 to make a snare of it; then to hide himself be. hind a tree, and to fling it about the neck of the first la ma, that happened to come within his reach. With this view he twisted a pretty strong rope, and in a few hours his gin was ready. He made some trials with it whether it would draw together, and it succeeded to see, to his wishes. As the place, where the lamas used to frequent, was at some distance, and as he did not know, whether they would 93 would come in the evening, because of late he had found them there at noon: he put off the execution of this plan for the next day, and in the mean time made the necessary preparations for his journey. First of all he ran to the place, where he had found the potatoes, and brought a whole pouchful home. Some of them he put into the embers to roast, and the rest in a corner of his cavern, to keep them for the next day. Then he cut off a pretty good piece of his turtle for his supper and for the day following, and poured on the rest some sea-water, which he bad brought with him for that pure pose. ر Upon this he dug a hole in the ground, to serve as a cellar. Here he placed his turtle shell, with the meat ho had salted, together with the piece, he had cut off, and cover'd the whole with boughs. ་ The rest of the afternoon he devoted to cheer his mind by a pleasant walk along the sea shore; whence the res freshing east wind blew, and agreeably cooled the sultry air. He indulged himself with the sight of the immense ocean, which then was but little ruffled and moved in small waves. He cast a look of affection to that side, where his beloved country was situated, and a tear started from his eyes at the thought of his dear parents. rents?" 99 What may they be doing now, my poor grieved pa cried he wringing his hands and with tears in his eyes. If they have survived the bitter sorrow, I caused them, alas! how mournfully will they pafs each day! They will be sighing and wailing, because they have no child left; because their last and most beloved son proved a trai- tor, and forsook 1) them for ever! Oh my dearest, best of fathers, oh my dearly beloved mother, oh, pardon your H 5 poor 7) to forsake, 94 J wretched son, who could cause you such grieft And thou, my heavenly and no my only father! my only compa nion, my only helper and protector!" After an humble prostration he continued: Oh, my Creator! pour down thy most precious blessings, and all the joys, thou hadst destined for me, and which I have rendered myself un- worthy of; oh pour them all down on my beloved and much offended parents to make them some amends for the grief, they suffer on my account! Alas, I am ready and willing to undergo, whatever thy wisdom and love shall think fit to impose on me for my amendment, if my poor parents are but happy! He remained for sometime in this posture, looking to wards heaven in silent anguish, and his eyes full of tears. At length he rose, and with his stone-knife cut the names of his dear parents on the next tree; above which he carved the following words: God bless you! and underneath : Pardon your unlucky son! Then he kissed the dear names, and bathed them with his tears. In procefs of time he engraved these dear names on a number of trees in other parts of his island, and afterwards he used to offer his prayers under one of these trees, and never forgot to inclu de his father and mother Theophilus. Oh, now Robinson is very good! Father. He is now in a very good way, to become a very good man; and this he owes to the wisdom of divine providence, that brought him into this island. Theophilus I think, God Almighty might now save him and carry him back again to his parents! { Father. God Almighty, who alone can foresee, what is to come, and what is good for him, will order his fate accordingly. It is true, Robinson is now in all appearance in the best road to daily amendment, but who knows, what would become of him, if he now were on a sudden de- 95 delivered from his island, and carried back to his parents! how easily do men relarse into their former vices! Oh, my children it is a very true saying: Let him, who standeth, take heed, lest he fall! Whilst Robinson was thus walking about along the sea- shore, he thought, that it would not be amifs, to bathe himself. He therefore stript m); but, how great was his astonishment, when he saw, in what ragged condition his shirt was, the only one he had. As he had already worn n) it so very long in such a hot climate, it was scarce per. ceptible, that the linen had ever been white before. He therefore made it his first business his first busineſs, to wash his shirt as well as he could, before he bathed himself, and having hung o) it on a tree, he jumped into the water. that In his youth he had learned to swim, and so he diver- ted himself with swimming to a small neck of land lay pretty far in the sea, and where he had never been yet. Frederic. A neck of land, what is that? Father. So they call a narrow track of land, which from an island or continent is running into the sea. Look! if yon bank of our small lake which runs into the water, we re a little longer, it would be a neck of land. Do you un derstand me now? Frederic. Oh, yes! Father. This thought of our Robinson's proved also very lucky. He found, that this neck of land was under wa ter, when the tide was in, and when it ebbed, the sea left a great many turtles, oysters and muscles on dry ground. For this time he could take none with him; neither was he in want of any, because his kitchen was yet well provi ded, but he heartily rejoiced at having made this new dis covery. m) to strip. ») to wear. o) to hang. Whe. 96 Where he swam p), the sea was so very full of fish, that he could almost catch them with his hands; and if he had had a net, he might have taken them by thousands. It is true he had no net as yet, but as in all his undertakings hitherto he had so well succeeded, he hoped, that for the future he should be able, to make himself a net too, Happy at this agreeable discovery he went ashore, having been an hour in the water. The warm air had quite dried his shirt, and now he enjoyed the pleasure of putting on clean linen. after But the thought, how long this joy would last, and how soon this only shirt, which he was obliged to wear conti. nually, would be worn 9) out," and what he should do then? This thought greatly damped his joy. However he soon took courage again, and having dressed himself, he went home singing: Whoever places all bia trust etc. пог John. 1 am glad to find him no more so dejected, and that he now begins to trust in God. Charlotte. O! I wish Robinson would come to us, I like him very much now. Theophilus. Nay! If Papa would please to give me so- me paper, I should like to write him a letter. Nicholas. And so would I. John. I should be glad to write him a letter too. Charlotte - And so would I, if I could but write. Mother. You may tell me what you would write him, and I'll write for you. Charlotte. Oh, that's fine! Mother. Well, come along with me! I'll give you some paper. p) to swim. g) to wear. all About 97 About half an hour after, they came one after another running in, to shew, what they had been writing. Charlotte. Here, dear Papa, here is my letter! Read it, pray! Father. (reading). S) My dear Robinson! : Endeavour to be very industrious and good, that will please the people and your parents too. I send you many compliments. Now you see, how useful adversity is! The- ophilus and John send their compliments to you, and s do Dick and Nicholas. Come and see us once, and I'll give you better instructions. Charlotte. Theophilus. Now mine, dear Papa! here is it Father. (reading). My dear Friend! • We wish you all possible happineſs and as soon as I get some pocket money; I'll buy something for you. And pray continue, as you have begun, to be a good lad. I send you hereby a bit of bread; beware of falling sick. How do you do now? Fare well dear Robinson. Without know, ing you, I love you very much and am, Hamburgh, the 7th Febr. 1779. Your faithful Friend Theophilus. Nicholas. Here is mine! I made it but very short. Father, (reading). Dearest Robinson ! I am grieved, that you are so unhappy! If you had staid I with $) These letters and many questions and answers are literally such, as were made and written a) by the children. a) to write. 98 A with your parents, that misfortune would never have befal- len you, Fare well! return soon to your dear parents. Once more fare well. Hamburgh, the 7th Febr. 1779. I am Your faithful Friend, Nicholas. John. Now mine! Father. (reading). Honoured Robinson! I pity you, that yon are quite separated from all living creatures. I believe, that you now repent your inconfide- racy. Fare well! I heartily wish, you may safely return one day to your parents. Be sure, to trust in God for the future, and he will certainly provide for you. Fare well once more. I am Hamburgh, the 7th Febr. 1779. Your faithful Friend, John. Dick. Oh, mine is good for nothing! Father. But come, let's hear it! Dick. I wrote a) it down in haste, that I might soon be back again. Father. (reading). Dear Mr. Robinson! How do you do in your island? I hear, you have under- gone b) many misfortunes. I suppose, you don't know as yet, whether your island be inhabited or not? which I shou'd like to know. I have also been informed, that you found c) a large lump of gold; but, that will be of no use to you in your island. (Father. You might have added: neither does a great # to write. b) to undergo. ♦) to find. deal -29 deal of gold make men better and happier here in Europe), It would have been better for you, had you found iron instead of it, of which you might have made yourself a a hatchet and other tools. Fare well! I am. knife, ? Hamburgh, the 7th Febr. 1779. Four friend, Dick. Theophilus. But how are we to send our letters now? Charlotte. Why, we may give them to the first cap. tain, who sails for America; and by him we may send him something too! I will send him raisins and almonds i dear Mama dear Mama, won't you? you will give me some, John. (Whispering to the father). They really believe, that Robinson is still alive! ៖ Father. My dear children! I thank you in Robinson's name for the great friendship you show him. But as for the sending these letters that can not be done. Theophilus. And why not? Father. Why not? Because Robinson's soul is long since in heaven, and his body moulder'd into dust, Theophilus. Alas! he is dead then? Why he has just now been bathing himself, Father. You forget, dear Theophilus, that what I told d) you of Robinson, happened above two hundred years ago. He is dead long since. But I will have your letters printed in the history, which I am writing of him. Who knows, but he may hear in heaven, that you love him so much and that will no doubt, give him great satisfaction even there. d) to tell, : I a Char- 100 Charlotte. But won't you tell us something more of him? Father. Oh yes, I can tell you a great deal more of him, which will be as agreeable to you, as what you have already heard. But I think, we have heard enough of him to - day. Robinson, after having bathed himself, went home singing, ate his supper, said his prayers, and went joyfully to rest. And we will do the same now. EIGHTH EIGHTH EVENIN G. Frederic. Mama, mama!" Mother. What do you want, Frederic? Frederic. John begs, you would send him another shirt. Mother. Why another shirt? Frederic. Why, otherwise he can not come out of the bath. Mother. Why so? Can not he put that on again, which he had on to- day? Frederic. No, Mama, he has washed it, and it is not dry yet. He would do like Robinson ! Mother. Well, I will give you one. Take this, and make haste, to come back again. Papa is going to conti nue the story. Mother. (To John, who is coming with the rest.) Well, friend Robinson, how do you like the bath? John. Very well! But I could not Father. You didn't consider get my shirt dry again. this country, that it is not so warm in as in Robinson's island. But, where did we leave off yesterday? Dick. Where Robinson went to rest and the next mor- ning Facher. Oh, now I recollect! 1 3 The next morning Ro 102 Robinson rose e) very early and prepared for the chace. He filled his pouch with roasted potatoes, and a good piece of roasted turtle, which he had wrapped up in cocoa - leaves. Then he put his hatchet into his girdle, tied the cord which he had twisted the day before, about his waist, took his umbrella in his hand, and thus equipped mar◄ ched forth. It was yet very early; he therefore resolved, to take some round about way for this time, in order to make himself acquainted with some other parts of his island. Among the great many birds, that were sitting on the trees he espied several parrots of the most beautiful colours. How great was his desire, to have one of them, that he might tame it, and have it for his companion. But the old ones were too cunning, to be taken with the hand, and he could no where find a nest with young ones. So he was obliged to defer the accomplishment of this wish to ano ther time. But instead of that, he discovered in the progrefs of his walk something more necessary than a parrot. When he was getting up a hill, a hill, near the sea, and looking down between the cliffs, he saw something, that excited his. curiosity. He therefore scrambled down, ry great satisfaction, he found, that is was you think? and, to his ve! what do John. Nay, that would not have rejoiced him much! I suppose it was iron. Nicholas. Why, have you forgotten, that iron is not to be found in those hot countries? Perhaps another lump of gold! Charlotte. You have hit it finely! Could that have been any cause of joy to him, think you? Why he could make no use of gold. ✔) to rise. Fas 103 Father. I perceive, you won't be able to gueſs it; So I'll rather tell it you. What he found, was salt. He had indeed hitherto in some measure supplied the want of it, by sea water, but after all that was no salt. Besides this, sea water has a bitter taste, which is very disagreeable; and moreover it was a mistake, to think, that meat would keep in it, because sea-water grows pus trid as well as river water, when it comes to stand still in a vessel. He therefore thought himself very happy in fin- ding real salt, and now he filled both his coat pockets with it for immediate use. → - Theophilus. But how did that salt come there? Father. You do not remember, I dare say, what I once told you of the origine of salt ? John. Oh yes, I know it! earth, some is boiled from salt Some is dug f) out of the water, which springs out of the ground, and some is also made of sea - water. Father. Very right! Now salt is boiled out of sea-water not only by men, but also by the sun, Theophilus. The sun? Father. Yes, when any sea-water is left g) on shore, after a high tide or an inundation, the sun dries it up by degrees, and what then remains, is salt. Charlotte. Why, that is very odd! Uather. So bountifully has God Almighty provided for us, that those things, which we are most in need of, re- quire the least preparation by art, and are found in the greatest abundance, Now Robinson went quite he expected to catch a lama. satisfied to the place, where When he arrived there, he saw none, but it was not noon as yet. So he sat down under a tree, to feast in the mean time on his roast meat f) to dig. g) to leave. 14 and 104 and potatoes! Oh, how much more relishing was this meal now, as he had some salt, to eat with it! 八 ​Just when he had done eating, he discovered some lamas capering about at a distance. - Robinson put himself quickly in readinefs, and waited for them, with his snare open. Several had already passed him beyond his reach: but lo! now one came so near him, that he had. no more to do, than to drop his hand, to get it into his snare. He did so, and from that moment the lama was in his possession!: It was going to bleat, but his fear, that the rest might be frightened by it, made him draw the snare so close, that the poor creature was not able to utter a sound. Then he drew a) it as fast as possible into the wood, that the rest might not see it. The captive lama proved to be the mother of two young ones, which, to Robinson's great. joy, followed her of their own accord, and seemed not at all afraid of him. He stroked the pretty little creatures, and they licked his hand, as if they would beg him, to set their mother at liberty. :: Theophilus. Oh, then he ought to have let her go! Father. He would have been a very great fool, if he had. Theophilus. Ay, but the poor creature had done him no harm! Father. But he wanted her; and you know, my dear Theophilus, we are allowed to employ animals for our use, if we do not abuse them. Now Robinson was highly delighted, too see his wish so happily accomplished. He dragged the captive animal, not- withstanding her violent struggles, with all his strength along. with him, the two little ones following of themselves. The shortest way was now the best for him, and so arrived at his habitation at last. a) to draw. But 105 But now another difficulty started. How was he to get his lama into his yard, which as you know, was well en compassed with trees on all sides? on all sides? To let it down from the top of the rock, was not adviseable, because the poor thing would have been strangled by the way. He therefore resolved to make a small stall, on one side of his yard, and keep the lama with her young ones in it, till he could find out some better contrivance. He fastened his lama to a tree, whilst he was making a stall for her. He cut a good many young trees with his hatchiet, and planted them so close together, as to make a pretty strong wall. The tired lama had in the mean time laid herself down and the young ones, not knowing that they were captives, lay by her sucking at their ease. Oh, how delightful was this sight to our Robinson! More than ten times he stopped to look at the little animals, and thought himself now very happy, to have some living erea- tures about him for his companions! From this moment his life seemed no longer quite solitary to him, and the satis- faction he felt b) at it, gave him so much strength and sprightlineſs, that his stall was finished in a very short ti me. After which he put the lama with the young ones into it, and carefully closed the opening with twigs. How greatly was he now delighted! Oh, it can not be expressed! Besides the company of these animals which of itself was invaluable to him, he expected many more advantages from them, and that he justly might! Of their wool, he could in time learn to make himself some cloa- thes, he could drink their milk, or make butter and cheese of it. It is true, he did not know as yet, how to set about all this, but he had already sufficiently experienced, 15 that b) to feel. 106 that we ought not to despair of our abilities, if we have but inclination and industry enough to work. One thing still was deficient in compleating his happineſs. He wished to have his creatures within the same enclosures about him, that, when at home, he might always see them, and have the satisfaction to accustom them to his company. For a long while he puzzled his brains, how to execute this intention, without coming to any resolution. However at length he resolved to break down one side of his wall, to take out the trees, and to plant others in a greater cir- cumference, in order to enlarge at the same time his yard a little. But he wisely resolved not to pull down the old wall, before he had every thing ready to make a new one, that he might in the mean time live safe in his habitation. By his indefatigable industry the work was finished within a few days. And now Robinson had the great satisfaction of living with his three companions in the same habitation. However he did not forget the pleasure which his first com- panion the spider had given him, when he first discovered it; and he continued daily to feed it with flies and midges, That insect too, soon perceived his friendly intention to- wards it, and grew so intimate with him, that he no soo. -ner touched the web, but it came down to receive the fly from his hand. The lama also and her young ones, in a very short time used themselves to his company. Every time he came home, they jumped to meet him, smelled about him, as if they expected, he had brought something home for'em c) and gratefully licked his hand, whenever he gave them any fresh grafs or young boughs. 6) e. i. for them. Af 107 After this he weaned the young ones from the mother, and began to milk her regularly every morning and evening. His cocoa-shell he used instead of a small milk-pan and his turtle - shell as a large one: and the milk he used partly sweet, and the rest he left to grow sour. All this greatly contributed to increase the pleasures of his solitary life. · As the cocoa tree proved so very useful to him, he wishe ed for his life, to multiply it! But how could that be done? He had indeed heard, that trees might be grafted or inoculated, but he had never troubled his head about the manner of doing it. He would often cry out, sighing: how little did I know my own good, when I was young! Oh, that I had been more attentive to every thing I saw or heard, what a great deal might I have learned of other people! Oh, could I grow young again, how attentive would I be to every thing, that the hands of men, and human skill can make! There should be no mechanick, handicrafts - man or artist, whom I would not learn something of. Though he had known the art of grafting ever so well. yet it would have been of no use to him, because the co- coa-tree has no twigs nor boughs, but only a crown of large leaves. But when people intend to graft they must have a graft of that tree, which is to be multiply'd: this graft must then be placed in the split, made in a young tree, after the crown is cut off, and the place must be filled up with grafting wax, and wound d) round with a rag or bafs. In this manner the graft grows fast to the stem, and afterwards produces the same kind of fruit as the tree, from which it was taken, " Robinson saw no other means of multiplying the cocoa- tree, but by planting some of the nuts. He resolved to do so, however unwilling he was, to sacrifice such delicious and d) to wind. 108 and rare food; and in a short time, he had the pleasure of seeing his hopes fulfilled and some young cocoa-trees growing up. The old lama with her yonng ones, were in a short time become as tame, as dogs are with us. He therefore began, by degrees to use them for his conveniency, to carry bur- thens, whenever he had any thing to fetch home which was too heavy for him to carry at once. John. But how could he take them out, as they were inclosed in his yard? Father, I forgot to tell you, that he had left an opening in his new side wall, just large enough for a lama to creep thro'. This place he covered with thick bushes, so that it could not be seen from without and every night he carefully closed it up with boughs. It was delightful to see him come home with his lama loaded and walking up before him. She knew the way back as well as he, and as soon as she came to the little door, she stopt, that he might first take off her load, then she crept o) thro' the hole and Robinson followed the same way. The return of the old lama was a great festivity for her young ones! They expressed their joy by capering and bleat ing, by running to their master, whom they caressed: and Robinson was so delighted with all their demonstrations of joy, as a father can be with those of his children, when after an absence of some days, he returns home again, and embraces them. Friend B. It is very remarkable, that animals are so very grateful to those persons, who do them good, Father. We have a great many remarkable instances of that gratitude, so that we should almost be tempted to ima- gine, that they had human understanding, did we not know from other reasons, that this is not the case with them. ⚫) to creep. 109 Dick. Oh yes, the and the man ol, lion, I read of in our little book, what is his name? John. Androclus! Dick. Oh yes. lion's paw! He, who drew a thorn out of a Theophilus. That was indeed a very good lion! He loved Androclus so much for this relief afforded to him, that so. me time after, when he was to tear him to pieces, he did him not the least harm Nay, if they were all so, I should like to have a lion too. John. But I like that dog much better, which a certain man had in Switzerland. Charlotte. What dog was that? John. Don't you remember? the same that saved the lives of two men. Charlotte. Oh, dear John, tell us that story! John. There was once a man in Switzerland: Charlotte. Oh yes, from whence the marmottos come? John. Even there. This man climbed up an enormous high mountain, so high nay, I dare say, ten times as high, as St. Michael's steeple! Theophilus. You forget something, dear brother! He took a guide with him. John. He did so indeed! Well, and the guide took his dog along with him. Now when they came to the top of the mountain. Theophilus. Ay, and the mountain was quite covered with snow. John. Nay, be quiet! Yes the mountain was quite covered with snow; now being almost come to the top, the gentleman's foot slipt u) and the guide, who was going to help him, slipt likewise, and so they were both rolling down. K %) to slip. 110 down, and just, when they were but a few steps from the brink of a precipice, above a mile deep, the faithful dog got hold of the skirt of his master's coat, who then held a) the gentleman and stopt ) him from falling down, so that they both got upon their legs again. Theophilus. Ay, but now you must tell us too, what the gentleman said! I know it yet very well. John. And so do I! He desired his guide to come and see him now and then at his house, and by all means to bring the dog along with him, for whom he would always have a fried sausage. Charlotte. Did the man do so then? and never John. Oh yes! Whenever the guide came to see him, he always entertained him in the best manner, failed to treat his dog with fried sausage. Charlotte. That was right. Father, Well, my children, we have quite forgotten our Robinson; shall we have done with him for to-day? Theophilus. Oh no, dear Papa! Let us hear a little more of Robinson. Father. His bricks were now hard enough for use. He therefore looked about for some clay, to build his wall, because he had no lime, and he soon found some. Then he made himself a trowel of a flat stone, and to compleat all, what is requisite for a bricklayer, he even made him. self a level and a plummet as well as he could. I suppose you know these things? Nicholas. Oh yes, we have seen them pretty often. Father. Having now made all these necessary preparations for his work, he took one of his lamas, and brought a sufficient number on her back home, a) to hold. b) to stop. John. III John. But how could he put the bricks on the lama's back? Father. You'll hardly guefs, how he contrived that, and so I'll tell it you directly. He had long perceived, how very advantageous it would be for him, to know something of the useful art of basket- making. But in his youth he had never thought it worth his while, to observe a basket maker with attention, when be was at work, so that he knew no more of this very easy art, as of all the rest. • But as he had already been succeſsful in making himself an umbrella of basket work, and having afterwards employ ed many leisure hours in this kind of work, he had by de. grees so much improved in it, that at length he was able to make a pretty strong basket. Now he had made two of these baskets for his lama. These he tied together with a rope, which he laid across the lama's back, so that there was on each side. Theophilus. Oh, Papa, I should like to learn to make baskets too! Father. And so should I, dear Theophilus; and I will therefore, on the very first opportunity, desire a basket maker to give us some instruction. Theophilus: Oh fine! Then I'll make a pretty neat little basket for my Charlotte. Charlotte. And I'll learn it too! shall not 1 Papa? Father. Oh yes! It will do you no harm. We often want to be employ'd, while I am telling you stories; and basket-making will then suit us very well, → Now Robinson began to build his wall, in which he suc eeeded pretty well. He had already finished one side wall of his kitchen, and laid the foundation of the other: when, all of a sudden, there happened something, which he had not foreseen, and which caused a very great impediment to his work. John. Ка 112 John. What could that be? Charlotte. Oh, I can gueſs it! Certainly the savages came, and devoured him alive. Theophilus. God forbid: Is that so, Papa? Father, No, not so: but it was something, that frigh tened him almost as much, as if the savage had come to roast him alive. John. Well, and what was it then? Father. It was night, and Robinson lay e) on his couch, with his faithful lamas at his feet. The moon shone ƒ) in her full lustre; the air was serene and hushed, and a pro• found silence prevailed over all nature. Robinson tired with the fatigues of the day, was lying in a sweet slumber and dreaming, as he often used to do, of his dear parents, when suddenly but no! we will not conclude this eve- ning with so frightful an accident. We might dream of it in the night, and then our sleep would be very restless. All. Oh, poor Robinson! Father. Let us rather turn our thoughts to something mo- re agreeable, that we may also close this day with joy and thanks to our heavenly father. Come, my children, We will first pay a visit to our flower beds, and then to our arbour. e) to lie. f) to shine, - NINTH NINTH EVENING. The father having brought the tale so far as we have seen at the end of the last chapter, there occurred so many oc cupations, that evenings passed on, before he could resume hi narration. However the young people of the house were not a little concerned about poor Robinson, and curious to know what might have befallen him, they would willingly have given their best toy, may something more valuable, if they could have been inform'd what had happened to him that night, which was last mention'd. But no person but the father could tell it them; and he thougt proper not to mention it to them, till he had sufficient time to pursue his story regularly. This created continual conjectures among them, and great- ly puzzled their brains, whilst the father continued in this disagreeable silence. One guessed this, another that; but. nothing would intirely fit the circumstances, with they had already been told of the unknown adventure. But why are we not to know it yet" said some of them, with a very piteous aspect. 1 have my reasons," answered the father. As the children were accustomed to be satisfied with this answer, they pressed him no farther, and with modest impatience waited for the hour, when the reasons of this K 3 si. 114 " silence should cease. However, as grown persons can easi ly look into the hearts of children, and gueſs all their thoughts, it was not very difficult for the father to read in the countenance of some of them: But what may those reasons be, that detain him so lorg from gratifying our cu- riosity." He therefore thought it once more necessary on this occasion, to convince them that it was not for want of good will to oblige then, but that his reasons, for acting in this must be of importance. manner, ,, Prepare," said he to them, to set out early to mor row morning, on your long wished for journey to Trave mund on the Baltic!" To Travemund? To the Baltic? To morrow mord ning? Shall I go too, dear Papa? was the general cry, and when the father, without excepting any one, answered all their questions in the affirmative, there arose g) such shouts of joy, as have certainly not been heard of late, nor will be heard again in a short time. " To Travemund! to Travemund! where is my stick ? Jenny, where are my half boots? quick the brush! the comb! a clean shirt! To Travemund! oh quick! quick! And these exclamations resounded through the whole house. They were now preparing every thing for the next day's journey; and our little travellers, in the height of their joy, asked a thousand questions, questions, without waiting for an answer. They were with difficulty prevailed on to go to bed that night, because they were so impatient, that they could not wait for the return of day-light, and the begin. ning of their journey. Ar the first dawn of the day the whole house was in mo- tion. The drum was beaten before every bed - chamber and all were obliged to rise, g) to arise. And 115 And now when all, young and old, were in readineſs, and the latter almost devoured by the kisses and caresses of the former: the father rubbed his eyes and said in a tone, which in the general voice of joy made a dismal disharmony: ,, My children, you would do me a great favour, if you exempted me to day from my promise!" " What promise?” cried every mouth, and remained half open with anxious expectation and affright. Father. From my promise of going to day with you to Travemund. Now their terror was complete; not one of them was able to utter a single syllable. Father. I have considered during the last night, that we should act very inconsiderately, if we began our journey to-day. " The Children. But why so?" (with an interrupted voice and a suppressed tear). Father. I'll tell you why, and then leave the decision of the matter to yourselves. In the first place, we have had a continual west-wind for some time past, which drives the water of the Trave with such impetuosity into the sea, that not a single ship can get to and from the harbour of Trave mund, because then the water is too shallow at the mouth of the river, and you know, we should all of us be glad to see both, when we are once there. 1 The Children. „Oh, it is possible the wind may change to day!" Father. Besides I have reflected, that if we wait four weeks longer, it would be just about the time, when the herrings come in great numbers from the Frozen - sea into the Baltic. Then the sea is quite full of them up to the very mouth of the Trave, where the fishermen catch them without any great difficulty. That we should like to see too, shoud not we? K 4 The 116 The Children. Yes " but Father. But now comes my strongest reason! What would our new friends Mathew and Ferdinand think, who will be here in a few weeks, if we had taken this journey before their arrival? would they not sigh and be sorry, whenever we should happen to speak of the pleasure, we had on this. journey, and could then the remembrance of it be agreeable to any of us? No certainly, we should always silently ma ke ourselves reproaches for not having done to them, what we should wish, they had done to us, if we were in their place, and they in ours --- well, what do you say to that? A dead silence. * Father. You know I always keep my word; so that, if you insist upon it, we shall set off; if not, you do me, and our future friends and yourselves a particular service. Speak now? what shall be done? 19 We will wait;" they all answered, and thus the fine journey was deferred to another time. It was very plain, that this self-denial was very hard to many, neither were they half so well disposed, as they used to be, for the rest of the day. This gave the father occasion to speak to them in the evening in the following manner. ,, My good children, the disappointment, you experienced to-day, will often happen to you in the course of your life. You will sometimes expect this or that earthly happiness; your hopes will appear to be built on a firm basis and your desire of it will be very eager. But the very moment in which you are going to become master of that supposed hap- pineſs, you'll find yourselves suddenly disappointed by the wisdom of divine providence, and all your hopes frustrated. The reasons, why your heavenly father acts so towards you, will seldom appear to you so clearly as those which hindered us this morning from going to Travemund. God being 117 being infinitely wiser than I am, looks into the 'remotest futurity and often suffers some accident to befall us for our good, the happy consequences of which we do not disco- ver but a good while after, nay perhaps not before the life to come, whereas I only foresaw the consequences of four weeks." " Now if every thing had succeeded to your wishes in your youth, and had you always obtained the things you hoped for, at the time you expected them, oh, my children! how sad would be the consequences in your older days, how would it pervert your hearts! and how unhappy would this perverted heart make you, when, in your future life, the time will come, that every thing does not go entirely to your wishes! And such a time will certainly come, my children, for you as certainly as for other people; for there was never yet a man on earth, who could say that every thing turned entirely out to his wishes." "" What then is to be done, my dear children? No- thing but this you must early accustom yourselves to re. nounce those pleasures, which you would willingly have en- joyed. This often repeated selfdenial will strengthen you, strengthen your minds and hearts and enable you, to bear with resigned fortitude, whatever our wise and most boun- tiful maker has decreed for your good." >> This, my children, is the key to that conduct, which we grown people sometimes make use of towards you, and which to you may seem to be a riddle! You will remem. ber, that we often refused you a pleasure, which you would willingly have enjoyed. Sometimes we told you the reasons of our refusal, that is, when you could conceive them, and we thougt proper you should know them, and sometimes we did not, and why did we so? Very often, it was to exercise you in patience and moderation, virtues so very ne▪ cessary to all men, and to prepare you for the rest of your lives!" Now K 5 118 Now you also know, why I would not tell you any more of our Robinson all these days past. I might easily have spared so much time, as was requisite to explain you at least the circumstances, which I lately concluded with, and about which I left you all in so disagreeable an uneer. tainty. But no, I did not tell you a single word more of it; notwithstanding your entreaties, and tho' I am very averse from refusing you any thing." And why did I 80, Charlotte? Charlotte. It was to teach us patience. Į Father. Right! And certainly, if you hereafter have any obligations to me, it will be for accustoming you to renoun ce the possession of a thing, you greatly valued and longed for, without much regret. Thus some days more passed without any mention of Ro- binson. At last the long wished for hour arrived, when the father was no longer hindered from satisfying their curiosity. He therefore continued his interrupted story in the following manner: It was night, as I have already told you before, and our Robinson lay quietly on his bed of hay, with his faithful la mas at his feet. A profound silence prevailed through all na- ure, and Robinson was dreaming as usual of his parents, when suddenly the earth began to tremble in an unusual manner, and a strange rumbling and roary was heard under the earth, as if many thunder storms were breaking out at one time. Robinson awoke r) with terror, he started up, without knowing what was the matter, or what to do. That same moment several dreadful shocks succeeded each other, the tremendous subterranean rumbling continued ; same time there arose a howling hurricane, that broke d) the trees, tore e) them up by the root, made the rocks r) to awake. d) to break.) to tear. at the tum 119 tumble down, and so agitated the sea, that it roared aloud from the deepest abyfs. All nature seemed to be in an ups roar, and to draw near her dissolution, Robinson terrified to death, rushed out from his cave, into the yard, and his frightened lamas did the same. They were scarce got out, when the rock over his couch fell down upon it. Robinson scared out of his senses, fled t) through the opening of his wall, with his terrified lamas follow- ing him. * His first intention was, to get upon a neighbouring hill, on one side of which there was a plain without wood, that he might not be crushed by the falling trees. He was just going to ran thither, when all of a sudden, when all of a sudden, to his great astonishment and terror, he beheld that very same spot of the hill open into a wide gulph, from which smoaking flames, cinders, stones and burning matter, called Lava, is, sued. He was scarce able to save himself by flight, because the burning Lava poured down like a torrent, casting large stones, like a shower of rain, on all sides. He ran ters, to the sea-shore. But here a dreadful scene awaited him. A violent whirlwind blowing from all quar- had driven a great many clouds close together, from which such a dreadful torrent came down at once that the whole island disappeared in a moment, and seemed to be chang'd into sea. Such an unusual torrent from the clouds is commonly called a water spout. Our Robinson could scarce save himself, by climbing up into a tree; but his poor lamas were carried off by the vio- lence of the water. Oh, how his heart was pierced at their lamentable bleatings and how willingly would he have saved them at the peril of his own life, had the violence of the torrent not carried them already too far off! ) to flee. This 720 This earthquake continued for some minutes, when every thing was calmed all of a sudden. The wind abated; by degrees the mountain ceased to vomit forth the fire; the subterranean rumbling was hushed, the sky became serene again, and all the water subsided in leſs than a quarter of an hour. Theophilus. With a deep sigh.) God be praised; it is over. Poor Robinson and the poor lamas ! Charlotte. This has horribly frightened me. Frederic. Pray, what is the cause of an earthquake? John. Papa has told us that long ago, before you ca. me here. Father. Explain it to him, John! John. There are many large and wide cavities in the carth, like so many cellars, which are full of air and vapours. Be- sides there are all sorts of combustible matters in the earth, such as brimstone, pitch, rosin and the like; these some- times are heated and begin to burn, when any dampnefs co- mes to them. Theophilus. Dampnefs? Can wetnefs produce any heat? John. To be sure, it can! have not you seen when brick-layers pour cold water on lime stone, how they begin to boil directly, as if they were over a fire; and yet there is no fire all near them! Well in the same manner, those matters begin to burn in the earth, whenever any wa ter gets to them; and when they are once burning, the air which is inclosed in these large cavities, spreads abroad so excessively, that at length there is no more room left for it. Now it seeks for a vent, shakes the earth, till at last it makes an eruption somewhere or other, from which it then issues like a torrent, and carries a great deal of burn. ing and melted matter along with it. Father. And this matter consisting of melted stones, me. tals and the like, is called lava. I have read somewhere, that 120 that a small volcano may be imitated; if you have a mind we will make a trial some day or other.. All. Oh yes! Oh yes, dear Papa! John. And how is that done? Father. We only need bury a pretty large quantity of brimstone and filings of iron in some damp place: this maſs heats and catches fire of itself, and then we have in minia. ture, what is called a volcano. We will shortly make a trial of it, if every one will save so much of his pocket money, to pay for the expences. Ail. Oh yes! Oh yes, dear Papa! ne, Father. Of this more at another time. Robinson, now getting down from the tree, on which he had taken his refuge, was so dejected at the misfortu that had befallen him, that he never once remembe rod, to return thanks to HIM who so visibly had saved him from death. His situation, indeed, was again as miserai ble as ever; the only secure retreat, he had hitherto found, was in all probability ruined; his dear, faithful lamac care ried off by the torrent, all his former labours rendered use. lefs, and all his fine schemes for future times baffled! The hill indeed had ceased casting forth fire, but still there an rose a thick black smoke from the gulph, sible, that it might remain a volcano ever after; did, how was it possible for Robinson, to be easy? had he not every day a new earth-quake, or a new explosion of the mountain to apprehend? and it was pose and if it a moment These melancholy thoughts grieved him sorely. He was overwhelmed with sorrow and instead of applying to the true source of comfort to God, his thoughts were only employ'd with the misery of his future condition, which pre- sented itself to him as infinitely great and unspeakable. Spent with anguish and oppression, he was leaning against the tree from which he had got down, and his oppres " L sed 123 #ed breast vented incessant sighs. In this comfortlefs situas tion he remained, till the dawn proclaimed a new day. Now I see, that Papa was Theophilus. (To friend R.) right. Friend R. In what? Theophilus. I lately imagined, that Robinson was beco me quite good, and that God might now deliver him from his island; and Papa then answered: that God Almighty knew that best himself, and that we could not judge of it. Friend R. And? Theophilus. And now I see very well, that he had not placed so much confidence in God as he ought, and that God Almighty was in the right, not to deliver him yet. Nicholas. I think so too. And now I don't like Robin- son half so well. Father. Your observation, my children, is perfectly sensible. We see indeed very well, that Robinson was yet very far from having that firm, unalterable filial confidence in God, which he ought to have had after so many proofs of his goodnefs and wisdom, as he had experienced. But before we condemn him, let us first put ourselves in his place and ask our own hearts, if we should have acted bet. ter if in his place? What do you think, Nicholas, would you have been easier in Robinson's place? > Nicholas, With a low and doubtful voice.) I don't know. Father. Remember the time, when you had a blister laid on your back, on account of your sore eyes, and which was painful to you. Do you still recollect, how de jected it sometimes made you? And yet, it was but a trif ling, transitory suffering, which lasted only two days! I know, , you would now, on a similar occasion, shew much more fortitude. But whether you would have resolution enough, to bear all the sufferings of Robinson, with a pious 125 pious and filial mind I not doubt of that? what do you think, my lad, may Your silence is the best answer to this question. You cans not know yourself, how you would behave in that case, because you never were in it. All we can do now, is to accustom ourselves to turn our eyes to God, and to be always patient and resign'd, when any such trivial and in. significant evils befall us. That will strengthen our hearts from day to day, and enable us to bear greater sufferings whenever God shall please to send them.. The new day approached, and the rising joyful light found poor Robinson in that comfortleſs situation, in which we have seen him leaning against the tree. His eyes had not been comforted with sleep, and no other thought entered his soul, but the dismal, melancholy question : What will now become of me? At last he set out and like a dreamer reeled towards his destroy'd habitation. But, how great was the joyful surprize that seized him, when near. his yard what do you think? his dear lamas came safe and sound jumping to meet him! At first he could not believe his eyes; but all his doubts were soon dispelled, when they came up to him, licked his hands, and expressed their joy by leaping about him and bleating. In that moment Robinson's heart, which hitherto had Beemed to be dead, recovered. He looked on his lamas and to heaven. by turns, and a tear of joy, gratitude and repentance of his despondency, trickled down his cheeks, Then he loaded his restored friends with joyful caresses;. and accompanied by them, he went to see, what was be come of his. habitation ? Dick. But in what manner had the lamas saved them. selves? Father. It is probable, that the torrent had carried them L 2 to 124 to some rising ground, where they could stand on their legs; and the water, subsiding as fast, as it had poured down from the clouds, they soon returned to their habi. -tation. Robinson now stood before his cavern and again to his shame he found, that the damage was not near so great, as in his despondency he had imagined. The top of his cavern consisting of a rock, had indeed fallen in, and in its fall had torn down an adjoining piece; but it did not seem impossible, to get all these ruins out of his cavern a gain, and then it would be twice as large as it was before. Another circumstance again painly showed, that divine providence had not done this to punish Robinson, but ra ther to shew him her kinduefs. Upon viewing the place, whence the piece of rock had tumbled down, he found to his astonishment, that it had been surrounded with loose mould on all sides. Therefore nothing was more probable, than that sooner or later, it would have fallen down of it- self God, by his Omniscience, had foreseen this, and that it might probably fall at a time, when Robinson was in his cavern. But as his wisdom and goodneſs had desti ned him a longer life, he had so ordered the earth, the beginning of the world, that just about that time there should be an earthquake in that island. Even the sub- terraneous rumbling, and the howling of the storm, ever dreadful in the ears of Robinson, contributed to save him. For if this earthquake had happened without any noise, Robinson would probably not have been awakened, and then the falling rock would certainly have crushed him, and put an end to his life. from how. Look, my children, thus God had again provided for hin, at the very time he thought himself forsaken; and saved him, by that same dreadful accident, which Robin. son, at first, had considered as his greatest misfortune. And 125 And this, my dear children, you will often have occa sion to experience in your future life. If you will but duly mind the ways, which divine providence shall please to lead you, you will always observe two things, in all the me lancholy accidents of life, that will happen in your future days, viz: r.) First: That men always consider the misfortunes, that befall them, greater than they really are. Secondly: That all our sufferings are sent us from God, for wise and good purposes, and in the end always turn to our advantage, Yes, my children; and rejoice in this comfortable truth i There lives a God, who loves his work! This all nature does us proclaim: The mist that makes the sky look dark, The clearest sun shine does the same. • 'Tis seen by thunder clouds, that low'r, And woods and mountains move; 'Tis seen by the refreshing show'r, Which pours down from above. We see it now in happineſs With joy, delight and pleasure; We may see it too in distress, When suff'ring in some measure. r) to wit. TENTH L3 TENTH EVENING. Robinson, (The father continues his story). accustomed some time since to join prayers and labour together, prostrated himself in order to thank God for this new preservation, then joyfully fell to his work, which was to clear his habitation from the rubbish. The mould he soon got out, but a large piece of the rock lay at the bottom, which, tho' sever'd asunder, seemed 10 require the strength of more than one man, to be re- moved. He attempted to move the least of them, but in vain t He found, that this work exceeded his force; he now stood a) regarding them both in deep reflection, not knowing how to proceed. John. I know, what I should have done! Father. Well what then? John. Why, I should have made a lever, as we lately did, when we rolled the large piece of wood out of our yard. Theophilus I was not here to see it; and what is a lever then? John. A strong, long stick; one end of which is put a) to stand. uh. 127 under the beam or stone, that is to be removed: and then a stone, or a piece of wood is placed under the lever, but close to the beam; then one takes hold of the other end of the lever and presses it down on the small piece of wood underneath it, by which means the beam is easily lifted up and rolled away. Father. How this is done, I'll explain to you another time; hear now what Robinson did. After many long and fruitless reflections, the same exne. dient at last presented itself to his imagination. He recol. lected, that in his youth he had often seen workmen do in removing heavy burthens, and he hastened to make a trial of it. so, the two stones, men, He succeeded in his attempt, and in half an hour's time which could not have been stirred by four were rolled out of his cavern; and now he had the satisfaction of seeing his habitation twice as large as before, and in all appearance perfectly safe. For now the walls ag well as the vault over head consisted of one single sto in which there was not the least crack. ne, Nicholas. And what was become of his spider? Father. It is well you put me in mind of it, I almost forgot it. But indeed I can tell no more of it, than that in all likelihood it was buried in the ruins; at least Robin. son never saw it again, and his other friends, the lamas, made him ample amends for this lofs. from Now he ventured to take a walk to the volcano, which a black smoak still continued to issue. He was ásto» nished at the great quantity of melted matter, which had run about on all sides, and which was not yet cooled. For this time he observed the dreadful and majestic spectacle of the smoking abyfs, only at a certain distance; because his fear as well as the hot lava hindered him rom approaching nearer. nea LA When 128 When he perceived that the torrent of the lava had taken its course towards the place, where his potatoes were grow- ing, he was not a little frightened, lest it should entirely have ruined this whole place, and he could not be easy, till he had convinced himself of the contrary. He therefore ran to the spot, and to his great joy found the whole plan. tation unhurt. From that moment he resolved to plant po• tatoes at random in different places of the island, in order to prevent the misfortune of losing this excellent fruit by any accident. Tho', according to opinion, winter was at hand, yet he thought, these roots might be of a nature to keep good the whole winter in the earth. After having executed this resolution, he began to work at his kitchen, in which the dreadful revolution of nature, he suffered, had procured him great advantage. The vol cano had among many other things thrown out a vast quan- tity of lime stones, which must first be burnt in a lime- kiln, before they can be made into slak'd lime. There was no need of that now, because the volcano had acted the part of a lime-kiln. All, that was left for Robinson now to do, was, to dig a hole in the ground, and to throw lime stones into it, then to pour water on them, and to stir the maſs, by which means the lime was slaked, and made fit for use. He then mixed it with a little sand, fell to work, and had good reason, to be satisfied with his skill. During this time the volcano had ceased smoking, and Robinson ventured to examine it. He found the sides and the bottom covered with cold lava, and when he saw, that not the least smoke issued from any part of it, he had reason to hope, that the subterraneous fire was quite ex- tinguish'd and that he had no further eruption to fear. Encouraged by these hopes, his thoughts were bant 129 ex. bent e) on laying in provisions for winter. For this purpose he caught f) eight lamas, one after another, in the same manner as he had doue the first. All these he killed cept´a ram, which he kept g) as a companion for his three tame lamas; most part of the meat he hung h) up in his kitchen, to have it smoked. But before he did so, he sal- ted all the meat, and left it in the salt for a couple of days, because he remembered, to have seen his mother do so at home. This was indeed a pretty provision of meat; and yet he feared, it might not be enough, in case the winter should prove severe and long. He therefore wished to catch some more lamas; but in this he was not succeſsful for these animals were at last sensible of his persecution, and were on their guard, so that he was obliged to invent some new method of seizing them. : This way he soon found out; so inexhaustible is the un- derstanding of man, if properly exerted, in finding out means to promote its happinefs! He had observed that the. lamas, when they got i) sight of him near the spring, al ways ran away in great haste over a small hill, into the neighbouring wood. The other side of this hill was covered with small bushes in the form of a hedge, behind which there was a steep wall, about two yards high. He had ob- served that the lamas always jump'd over these bushes and down the wall at one leap, and this observation was suffi• cient for him, He resolved therefore, to make a pit fall, that is to say, to dig a deep hole that the lamas, when they jumped down, might be caught ) in it. His indefatigable industry finished this work in a day and a half; and he covered the hole with L 5 e) to bend. f) to catch, g) to keep. h) to hang. ) to get, k) to catch. 130 with boughs, and the next day he had the satisfaction of seeing two pretty large young lamas jump into it, so that he got them. Now he thought himself sufficiently provided with meat. He would have been at a lofs, how to preserve it the who le winter, if heaven had not by the earthquake provided him with a convenient cellar; for, close by his cavern another piece of ground bad sunk u) in, of about two fa. thoms deep, with now formed a second cavern, the en- trance of which was also in his yard. Thus he now had an habitation, cellar and kitchen together, just as if they had been made on purpose and by arte Now he had three things more to do, in order to be sufficiently provided for the whole supposed winter. The first was to provide hay for his lamas, then fuel, and fi. nally to dig up his potatoes and put them in his cellar. • In his yard he made a hay rick, in the form of a pyra- mid, of the hay he had gathered, as country people do with us, and as often as he added some hay to it, he trod v) it so close together, that the rain could not easily soak into it. But here he gave another instance of ignoran ce and inexperience, which cost him dear. He had not had the precaution to dry his hay thoroughly. When this is not well observed, and the hay is pressed close together, it begins to grow hot; and heats to such a degree, that it begins to smoke and even to burn at last. This was a matter he had never heard any thing of in his youth, because he never troubled his head about husban- dry; but in his present situation he learned, how good it is, to observe every thing, and to acquire as much know. ledge as possible, tho' we can not foresee, of what use it may be to use u) to sink, v) to tread. He IZI He was therefore not a little surprised, when he saw his hayrick began to smoke; but his astonishment still encrea- sed, when, on putting his hand into it, he found the hay burning hot. He could not but think, some fire had got into it, tho' he could not conceive how. So he began directly to shake out the hay, but to his astonishment he found no fire at all, but only that the hay was hot and damp. At last he was so happy, as to hit ou the true cause, and supposed the moisture must have heat- ed it, tho' he could not gueſs the reason. John. But in what manner can mere dampneſs heat any thing? Bes, Father. Dear Johnt There are a thousand such pheno. mena in nature, and human understanding, which, for many hundred years has been searching after their true cau. has been so successful as to discover many of them. These causes are taught g) us in a science, the name of which is still unknown to you. It is called natural phi losophy, or Physicks. This science gives an account of this remarkable circumstance, as well as of many other surprising things in nature; and if you are very diligent in learning, what we now treat of, we shall also begin this science with you, and it will give you inexpressible pleasu re. For the present it would be to ne purpose, to speak of it; because you would not be able, to understand what I should say about it. Robinson dried his hay anew, and made another hay rick, that was proof against wind and weather. For its greater security he made a thatch of reeds over it, which was very little inferior to our thatches with regard to firmness. The following days he employed in gathering as much dry wood, g) to teach. 152 wood, as he thought necessary. Then he dug o) up his potatoes, of which he got a considerable quantity. These he laid up in his cellar. At last he shook p) off all the ripe lemons, in order to keep them up for winter, and having done all this, he was quite easy with respect to provisions. for the winter - season. But this supposed winter never came, tho' it was alrea dy the end of October. Instead of which it began to rain, and rained so incessantly, as if all the air had been chan. ged into water. Robinson did not know, what to think of it. During a whole fortnight he had not been able to step out of his habitation, except to his cellar, his hay. rick and his well, to fetch provisions for himself and for his lamas. The rest of his time he passed like a prisoner Oh, how tedious and long did that time seem to him! To have nothing to do and to be quite alone! My children, you have no idea of what a man suffers under such circum. stances! Could any body have procured him a book, pen, ink and paper, he would willingly have given a day of his life for a single sheet. He would often sigh and cry: Oh, what a fool was I in my youth, to think writing and rea 'ding so tiresome, and idleness on the contrary so agree- able! The most tedious book would now be a treasure for me; and a sheet of paper with pen and ink, would be a kingdom! During this tedious time, necessity forced him to apply to many occupations, which he never thought of before. He had long since conceived a thought, whether it would not be possible for him to make a pot and a lamp, two things which would considerably improve his condition. He therefore ran, notwithstandig the great rain, to fetch some clay, and then he began his work. e) to dig. 7) to shake. It 133 It is true, his labour did not succeed directly; he was obliged to make many a fruitless esfay; but as he had no- thing better to do it was a pastime for him a pastime for him, and fo he amufed himſelf with breaking his work to pieces, when he did not find it quite perfect, and made it all over again. Thus he passed some days in very agreeable occupations, till at length after many essays and miscariages, he had his pot and lamp made, and so well, that it would have been a folly to break them again. He now placed them in his kitchen, not far from the fire, to dry by degrees. Then he continued to make more pots, pans and pipkins of several forms and sizes, and the more he worked, the more dex. terious he grew q) at it. Meanwhile these heavy rains continued. Robinson there- fore saw himself obliged, to invent fome other domestic occupations, that he might not feel the tediousnefs of time. His next business was, to make a net for fishing. He had before that time spun r) a considerable deal of pack thread, which now was very useful to him. Having now time and patience enough to try his work ten times and more, which at first he could not bring to bear, he at last found out the right knack of making the knots, and acquired such a dexterity in it, as the Ladies with us in netting. He had likewise invented a wooden instrument, which he made with his knife, in the form of a net-needle. By these means he compleated a net, which was but little inferior to those, used by our fishermen. 1 Then it came into his head, to try, whether he should not be able, to make a bow and arrows. Oh, how his brains worked, when he resolved the great advantages, such a bow might procure him! With a bow he might kill lamas birds and what was still more defend himſelf in his r) to grow. r) to spin. M has 134 habitation, in case he should ever be attacked by any savages. He was so impatient to have his bow finished, that in ſpite of the rain and wind, he ran out to fetch the necessary wood. Every sort of wood was not fit for his purpose. He want ed some, that was hard and tough at the fame time; such as would bend, and yet ſtiff enough to unbend again. John. That was elaſtick, I suppose? Father. Right! I did not think, you had minded the signification of that word, and for that reafon I would not make uſe of it. Now after having found and cut this wood, he carried it home, and fet about it directly. But alas! how fensibly did he now feel the want of a proper knife! He was oblig ed to make twenty cuts and more, before he got off so much, as we do in one, we do in one, with our ſteel-knives. He ſpent s) eight whole days at this work, tho' he kept t) close to it all the time. I know fome folks, who would not have had patience so long- Theophilus. (to the rest) Papa means us! Father. Right, Theophilus! and don't you think I am in the right? Theophilus. Oh yes, but for the future I will always work on, without any intermission, whenever I have once began u) a thing. Father. You'll do very well; Robinson at least found it fo. On the ninth day his bow was finished to his unspeakabl joy, and now he wanted nothing but a ſtring and arrows If he had thougt of it when he killed his lamas, he might have tried whether it was not possible to make ſtrings of their entrails, because he knew, that in Europe they were made of the entrails of sheep. For want of which he now twi- ) to spend. ) to keep. #) to begin, 135 twiſted a cord, as ftrong as he possibly could; and then proceeded to make arrows. What would he not have given now for a fmall bit of iron, to make points to his arrows! but this wish was in vain. - Whilst he was thus meditating at the entrance of his cavern, what to take to ſupply the iron, his eyes acci dentally fell on the lump of gold, which was still lying on Away, faid he, kicking the ground as a contemptible thing. it aside, thou uselefs thing, and become iron, if thou wilt be esteemed by me i After which he did not deign to look at it any more. Having reflected a long while, he at length recollected, to have once heard, that the savages use the bones of large fish, and sometimes sharp stones to make points for their daris and lances. In this he resolved to imitate them, and at the same time to make a lance: and this he executed immediately. He went to the sea shore, and was so lucky as to find some fish-bones and sharp flints, just as he wish ed them. He then cut down a long strait pole for a lance, and returned home, wet to the skin with rain, In a few days his lance and arrows were finished. At the end of his lance he fastened a pointed flint; and on the one end of his arrows sharp fishbones, and on the other fea thers, which, as you know, makes them fly the better. Now he tried the usefulness of his bow, and found, that notwithstanding its imperfection for want of iron, it would be useful enough to kill birds and other ſmall animals; nay, he did not in the least doubt, but he would be able to wound a naked savage in a very dangerous manner, if he could but come near enough; and as to his lance he had rea- son to be still more satisfied with it. Now his pots and his lamp seemed sufficiently dried, he therefore proceeded to make use of them. First he put a lump of tallow, which he had taken from the entrails of M 2 the 136 the lamas, he had killed, into one of the new pipkins, in order to melt it down, and to use it in his lamp as oil; but he perceived to his great dissatisfaction, that the tallow, as foon as it melted, foaked through the pipkin, and was frying out again on the outside, so that but very little re- mained in it. From this he concluded, that his lamp and pots would have the same fault, and consequently be of and so indeed they proved. little use: A very disagreeable circumstance this! He had been greate ly rejoiced at the thoughts of passing the evening by a light, and to make himself some warm broth, and now all these pleasing hopes vanished at once! Dick. That was indeed very mortifying. Father. Indeed it was so! And certain folks would have thrown away the whole. But Robinson had now pretty well accustomed him felf to patience and had once for all resolved to leave nothing unfinished, where there was the least appearance of bringing it to perfection. He therefore placed himself into his musing-corner (80 he called a corner of his cavern, where he used to sit, whenever he was contriving any thing), and rubbed his fore head; What may be the reason, faid he to himself, "" that the pots in Europe, which are also made of clay, are so much more folid, that they let nothing paſs through? Ha! I believe, I have it! It is because they are glazed glazed? hm! what may that be then, and in what manner may that be done? Ha! I believe, I know it! Ay, it Didn't I read once, that several matters, as sand and also clay are vitreous, and may by a strong fire. be changed into real glaſs? They must place the pots into a red hot furnace; and when the clay begins to melt, they take them out, to prevent their running entirely into glaſs. That I must imitate." must be fol Ay, ay, so it is! He really did fo. He made a large fire in his kitchen, and when 137 when it was burning at its height, he put one of his pip. kins into the midst of it. But a moment after it went →→ crack! and the pipkin broke to pieces. · " Oh deart" " 39 What in cried Robinson,,, who could have thought that? He therefore returned to his musing corner. the name of wonder," thought he,,, may be the reason of that? Did I ever see any thing like it? Yes, to be sure, I did! When in winter time we placed a glaſs of cold water, or beer, on a warm stove, se crack ? And when did it not? on the stove before it was quite hot. didn't that likewi. when it was placed Very well, now I have it! Ay, ay, it is so; the vesfel must not at once be put into the heat, but be warmed gradually 1 must al- so take care, to give the whole the same degree of heat." " This head of mine is an excellent one!" he cried, jum. ping up with joy and going to make a second trial. This time he fucceeded much better. The pipkin didn't burst, but yet it would not become glazed. And what can be the reason?" thought Robinson again. ,, The fire, I think, was strong enough what can there yet be wanting?' After having for a long while me ditated upon the matter, he thought, he had hit the point at last. The experiment he had made, had been in an open fire, and not in a furnace, He thought the heat had been diſperſed too much on all sides, which prevented the clay from running into glaſs. Faithful to his refolution, to leave nothing unfinished, he resolved to make a proper furnace. But he was obliged, to defer setting about this work, till the weather was become more convenient. It still continued to 'rain, and the sky did not clear up for two months. Now Robinson thought that winter was coming, and behold, the winter was already past. ) He M1 3 could 1) to paſs, 138 could scarce believe his own eyes, when he saw, that the power of animating spring made new grafs, new flowers and branches grow; and yet it was really so. This seemed in- comprehensible to him; and yet he saw it with his own eyes. ,, This," cried he, shall for the furure teach me to deny nothing, what I can not conceive!" 3) Mother. And did he not go to bed, when he had said so? Theophilus. Why, Mama! we are not at all sleepy yet! Father. I have no authentic account of it; however as I find nothing more recorded for this day, in the relation of his abode in the island; I am apt to think, that he went to bed, after having said so. And we will do the same, that, like him, we may rise to morrow with the sun. I L E- ELEVENTH EVENIN G. Theophilus. Father, now I should like, to be in Robin- son's situation. Father. Indeed? Theophilus. Yes, now that he has all those things, which he was formerly destitute of, and lives in a fine country. where there is no winter. Father. Every thing he needs? Theophilus. Why, has he not potatoes, meat and salt and lemons; and fish, and turtles, and oysters, and can be not make butter and cheese of the milk he gets from his lamas. Father. All that he has really had for fome time already; I only forgot w) to mention it. Theophilus. Why he has also a bow, arrows and a lan- ce, and a good place to live in, and what can he want more? Father. Robinson knew very well the value of all this and thank'd God for it Nevertheless he would have given half of his future life, if a ship had come, to take him back to his native country. Theophilis. Yes, that I allow, but what could he wanı befides this? e) g) to forget, Fa 140 Father. Much, very much! not to say every thing. He wanted that blessing without which there is no real happi- nefs on earth; he wanted company, friends, beings of his own species, whom he might love, and by whom he might be loved in his turn. Far from his parents, whom he had so greatly offended; far from his friends, whom he could never hope to see any more; singled out from the enjoyment or company of all mankind alas! what joys could he have in this deplorable, lonesome situation, though he had possessed the greatest abundance of all the earthly blessings. Try it, my young friends, try it for once, stay but a single day alone, in a solitary place, and you'll then feel, what it is to live in solitude. Besides this, Robinson was yet very far, from baving every thing, he might still want for the future. All his cloathes were worn x) out in useless rags, and he could not yet foresee the possibility of making himself new ones. John. Why, I think, he might have done very well without in his warm island, where there was no winter. Charlotte. Fie! then he would have been obliged to go naked. Father. He wanted no cloathes indeed to shelter himself against the inclemency of the weather; but he wanted them to shelter himself against the insects, particularly against the moschitos, which were in great abundance in bis island. Nicholas. What are moschitos? Father. A kind of flies, but whose sting is much more painful than of those of our country. They are a great pla, gue to the inhabitants of warm climates. For their sting leaves blotches, almost as painful as those of bees and wafps. Robinson's face and hands were continually swelled with them. What then was he to suffer, when his cloathes o) to wear, should 141 should come to be entirely worm out! and that time was rapidly approaching This together with his longing after his parents and human society in general, often made him sigh, whenever he was walking near the sea-shore, and loking with longing eyes, melting in tears, on the immense ocean, where he saw nothing but water and sky. How often was his heart dilated with fruitless hopes, when he saw a small cloud arising on the horizon, which his imagination represented to him as a ship, with masts and sails; and when he saw himself dis appointed in his expectation, how would his tears trickle down his cheeks, and with what anguish and dejection of heart did he then return home! Charlotte. Oh, he should have addressed bis fervent prayers to God Almighty, and he would certainly have sent him a ship. Father. And so he did, dear Charlotte; he prayed day and night to God Almighty, for his deliverance from the desolate island, but he never forgot to add; Yet, oh Lord! not my will but thine be done! Charlotte. Why did he so? Father. Because he was perfectly convinced, that God Almighty knows much better than we do, what is good for us. He therefore argued thus: If my heavenly father should be pleased to keep me here still longer, he must certainly have good reasons for doing fo, altho' I cannot discern them; and so I must only pray to him for my deliverance, on condition, that his wisdom thinks it advisable. For fear, lest any ship should pass by, or cast anchor near his island at a time, when he should not be near the shore: he resolved to fix a signal on the small neck of land, by which every ship, that might happen to pals, could see, that there was a person in distress. This was a post to which he fixed a flag. Ni 142. Nicholas. But, where did he get the flag? Father. That I will tell you. His shirt was now in such a condition, that he could wear it no longer. He theres fore took the largest piece of it, and fixed it like a flag to this post. Now he would willingly have made an inscription on the post to make his distress the better known; but how could be do that? The only method in bis po- wer, was to engrave the letters with his stone-kuife. But then the question was; in what language he ſhould make this inscription! If he made it in german or english, a french, spanish or portuguese ship might happen to come, and then these people would not understand it. Luckily for him he recollected a few latin words, by which he might expreſs his wish. + Theophilus. Why, could the people understand that? Father. The latin tongue, you know, has spread through all the countries of Europe, and all the people, who have had genteel education, know at least of it. Ro. binson therefore hoped that there would be one or other on board of every ship, who understood y) his inscription; fo hé got it ready. John. And what was it then? Father. Ferte opem misero Robinsonio! Do you un derstand, Frederic? Frederic. Oh yes, Papa! Help poor Robinson! Father. Now his most pressing wants were that of shoes and stockings which fell at last piecemeal from his legs and feet, and the moschitos attacked his bare legs so terribly, that he did not know, what to do with himself for pain. His face, hands and feet were since the rains, during which these insects had unfpeakably multiplied, so swelled up by their 7: P) to understand. 143 their painful stings, that he did not look like a human creature. How often did he place himself in his musing morner, in order to invent fomething by means of which he could cover and screen himself against them! But to no end; he always wanted the proper instrument and the necessary knowledge to finish what he wished to make. The easiest of all the means to cover himself with, appear ed the skins of the lamas he had killed.. But these skins were raw and stiff; and unfortunately, he had never trous bled his head with obferving tanners and curriers, when they prepare raw hides; and tho' he had known it, he had neither needle or thread, to sew any cloathes of the leather. He was at this time in the greatest perplexity; he could neither work by day, nor sleep by night for the incessant persecution of the moschitos. And so he was absolutely o❤ bliged, to find out something or other, to prevent his pe rishing in the most miserable manner. Dick. To what purpose may God Almighty have created these noxious insects, since they are only a plague to us. Father. Tho what purpose do you think, God Almighty has created you and other men? Dick. Why, I think, that we should be happy in his world ! Father. And what, do you think, induced him to do so? Dick. Nay, his goodness, because he would not be happy alone. Father. Very right. But don't you think, that insects also enjoy a kind of happineſs ? Dick. Yes, I think they do; for we see them very mere ry, when the sun shines. Father. Well, cannot you conceive now, why God has made them? They are to rejoice and to be happy on this earth, 144 earth, as much as they can, according to their nature, Is not this design very benevolent and worthy of his good- nefs? Dick. Why, I thought, God Almighty might have made such animals only, as did no harm to others. Father. You may thank God, that he did not do so. Dick. Why? Father. Because neither you nor I, nor any one of us, would then exist. Dick. How so? ravenous Father. Because we are precifely the most the most deftructive of all animals! All other creatures upon earth are not only our slaves, but we kill them also for our pleasure; sometimes for the sake of their flesh, fome- times for the sake of their skins,, sometimes because they are in our way, and sometimes for this or that insignificant reason. How much greater reason have not therefore the in- sects, to ask why God made that cruel, that noxious creature, man? What answer would you then give to the By to this question? Dick. (at a lofs) Indeed I can not tell. res, Father. My answer to her would be nearly as follows. My dear fly, your question is a little rash, and proves that your little head has not yet learned to reflect properly, other. wise you would have found on the least reflection that God, out of mere goodneſs, has so constituted many of his creatu that one must live upon the other. For had that not been the cafe, he could not have created half so many ani- mals, because grafs and fruits would have sufficed but for a few kinds of living creatures. Now, that the world might be filled with many different beings, living every where in the water, in the air and on the earth who rejoiced in their existence while they lived, and that one kind of them might not multiply to excefs and to the ruin of ano- ther, 145 ther, the wisdom and goodness of God ordered it so, that some creatures should live at the expence of others. · More. over, your little silly head has never conceived, what we men know with certainty, viz: that this life is for all the beings created by God, and consequently for thee little fly too, but a beginning, but a first dawn of another everlast ing life and that for the future, a great many things will become clear to us, which we can not as yet comprehend. Who knows, whether you will not also learn, for what purpose you at first were nourished by our blood and then devoured by the swallow, or crushed to death by the fly- flap? Till then be discreet, as a poor insect that can not possibly judge of what the infinite wisdom of God is doing, and we will give you an example in this. What do you think, Dick, would the by, if she was capable of any reason, be satisfied with this answer? Dick. For my part I am so! Father. Wel, let us go on with our Robinson! Necessity forced him, to make the best shift he could. He took his skins and cut → to be sure, with a deal of trouble with his stone knife, something that had a res- semblance of shoes and stockings. They were like busking and laced on the sides like spatterdashes : as he could not sew either of them, he was obliged to content himself with making small oilet-holes in them, in order to tie them fast to his feet, by means of a twisted pack thread. This could indeed not be done without great inconveniency for note withstanding he turned the rough side outward, he always felt a burning heat in his feet, and the stiff hard side rub- bed off his skin, when he took eyer so short a walk, and caused him great pain. However he chose rather to bear this, than be plagued by the moschitos. · He made himself a mask of another piece of very stiff N leas 1 1 £46 leather, into which he cut two small holes for the eyes, and a third to breathe thro'. And now as his hand was in, he resolved, not to de- Bist until he had made himself also a jacket and a pair of breeches, all of lamas skins. This indeed cost him still more trouble; but what is there in this world to be had without it? and what may not be brought about by dint of patience and application? And this work succeeded to his great comfort. The jacket was composed of three pieces, laced together; that is, two for the arms, and a third for the body. The breeches were made, like our riding breeches, of two pie ces, laced together on the outside. These clothes he put as soon as they were finished, with the resolution ne❤ ver to wear his european clothes again, except on solemn holy days, and on the birth days of his parents which he colebrated as holy - days. on, • He had now the most singular appearance in the world. From bead to foot be was wrapped up in rough skins. On one side he wore r) a large stone hatchet, on his back a great pouch, a bow and a bundle of arrows. In his right hand he held s) a lance, that was as long again as him self; in his left he held an umbrella, made of cocoa- leaves and instead of a hat he wore a peaked basket, like◄ wise covered with a rough skin. Only think, how comi cal he must have looked in this garb None, who had ac cidentally seen him, would have taken him for a human creature. He also could not but smile when he first saw himself in a rivulet. Now he recommenced his potter's work. He soon finish'd his furnace, and then he tried, whether he could not glaze his pots in a very brisk and strong fire. He therefore r) to wear. s) to hold, A put 147 put all his pots and pipkins into the furnace; after which he made by degrees a very strong fire, so that the furnace became red hot. This violent fire he kept up till night, when he slaked it by degrees, and now he was very cu rious to see the result of it. But when he drew t) out the first pot, he found to his great surprize, that notwithstan ding all his trouble, it was not glazed at al, nor was the second, and so on with the rest. But at last, considering one of the pipkins, be perceived with as much joy as a84 tonishment, that it was very well glazed at the bottom. Now his head was puzzled. What in the name of won- der, thought be, , may be the reason that this single pipkin only is glazed a little, and not one of the rest, and yet they are all made of the same clay and burnt in the same oven. He mused a long while, but could not find the smallest particle that could give him any light into the manner. At last he recollected', that there had been some salt in this pipkin, before he had put it into the furnace. He there fore could not but think, that salt was the only cause of the glazing. John. Was the salt then really the cause of it ? Father. Yes, what Robinson here discovered by cliance, was long since known in Europe: Salt is the true cause, by which many things are turned into glafs by the fire. Had he only rubben over the pots with salt water, or flung u) a certain quantity of salt into the red-hot furnace; all hia pots would have been glazed by it. The next day he went to make the experiment. The fire in his furnace was already burning; he rubbed over some of the vessels with salt-water, and put some dry salt in others, to make both experiments at the same time: when a) to draw. 4) to Alag, N 2 in 748 in the midst of his labour, he was compelled to cease by something, which he had feared a long while, by of sickness. - a fit He found himself very qualmish, he was seized with a violent head-ach, and felt a great wearinefs in all his limbs. And now the most dreadful situation, that can ever befall a man, awaited him. ,, Good God!" said he to himself, what will become of me, when I shall be no more able to get up? When there is no compassionate hand, to relieve me in my dis- trefs? No friend to wipe away my deadly sweat, reach me my refreshment? of me?" or to Good God, what will become Quite oppressed with anguish, he fell down on the ground. at these words. If ever be needed firm and filial confidence in God, the omnipotent and loving father, it was at this crisis deprived of all human assistance, deprived of his own strength! What remained to preserve him from perishing in his mises ry? God, God alone, no body else in the whole world. There he lay in agonies, struggling with death. His hands clasped together; unable to speak, he fixed his looks to heaven. Oh Lord, Lord! mercy - was all he could ute ter from time to time with a sigh. But his anxiety left him no respite; he summoned up his last efforts to set, if possible, if possible, the most necessary things for his refreshment within the reach of his bed, that he might not be quite without them, in case his illness should 'disable him from getting up. With great difficulty he got a couple of cocoanut shells with water, and placed them near him. He added some roasted potatoes and four lemons to it and then sunk s) down quite exhausted. If God Almighty had now been pleased, to call him away s) to sink. from 149 from the world by a sudden death, how gladly would he have died! He ventured to pray God to do so; but soon after he recollected, that his prayer was not reasonable. ,, Am I not a child of God?" said he to himself, am I not his creature; and is he not my kind, my wise and powerful father? How then dare I prescribe to him what he should do with me? Does not he know best, what is good for me? And will not he do with me, as he thinks most conducive to my happiness? Yes, yes, that my bountiful and powerful father ceartainly will! Therefore be thou silent, my poor oppressed beart! Look up to God, thou my poor troubled soul to God, the greatest helper in necessity! And he will certainly help thee, he will never forsake thee whether in life or in death! At these words he took courage again, and raising him. self upon his knees, he thus pray'd to God with the grea- test fervor of heart:,, I give myself up to thy paternal guidance! Do with me according to thy mercy. I will with out murmuring suffer, whatever thou hast decreed; and thou wilt grant me strength to bear it. Oh, grant me strength my father this is all, I request grant me patience in my sufferings, and firm confidence in thee. Grant this my request, this only ardent request of thy poor suffering child, for thy love's sake!" Now a violent ague seized him: and tho' he had cover- ed himself all over with lamas skins, yet he could not grow warm. This cold fit lasted about two hours, when it chan- ged into a bot one, which like a burning fire run thro' all his veins. His breast heaved up and down, by the violent beating of his arteries, like the breast of a man, who is quite out of breath with running. In this dreadful situation, be had scarce power enough left, to lift the cocoa nut, shell with water to his mouth, to cool his burning tongue. At last a dropping sweat broke out, which procured him N4 600 150 some relief. When he had been about an hour in this con dition, he recover'd his spirits a little. It was then, the thought struck # him, that his fire might go out, if he w) did not put on fresh wood. He therefore, notwithstanding his weakneſs, crept x) on all fours, to his fire - hearth, and put on such a quantity of wood, as would be necessary To keep up the fire till the next morning; for it was now already night. zo This night was the most grievous, he ever passed. Cold and hot fits succeeded each other, without intermission. The most violent head-ach continued, and not a wink of sleep befriended his wearied eyes. This so enfeebled him, that he was scarce able the next morning, to creep to the wood, in order to keep up his fire. Towards evening his sickness encreased; he again tried 20 creep to his fire and to help himself to water; but this time it was impossible so he was obliged to give it up, and the certain hopes, that it would soon be over with him made it a matter of indifference to him. This night passed in the same manner as the foregoing. The fire was in the mean time burnt a) out; the remaining water in the cocoa-nutshell began to grow putrid; and Robinson was become unable, to turn himself on his couch, He thought, he perceived the approach of death, and the joy he felt at it, strengthened him so much, that he was able, to prepare himself for his journey with devotion, He once more prayed humbly to God, that he might gra- ciously pardon all his sins. Then he thanked him for all the goodneſs, he had ever shown him - an unworthy ! He particularly thanked him, for all he had made him suffer for his amendment; all which he, now more than ever, perceived to have been for his good. Finally he prayed God, w) to strike. a) to creep. a) to burn. to 151 to comfort and blefs his offended but dearly beloved parents; then he recommended his immortal soul to the eternal and paternal love of his maker. Then he stretched himself out, and expected death with joyful hopes. Death seemed to approach with hasty strides. His agonies encreased; his breast began to boil, and he breathed with great difficulty. Now, now! the last and wished for mo- ment seemed to appear! And agony, such as he had ne- ver felt before, seized his heart, his respiration stopt n) short; he fell into convulsions, his head dropt o) on his shoulder, and all consciousnels of existence left him. Here all were silent for some time and honoured the me- mory of their friend, tho' they had never seen him, by sym- pathy. Poor Robinson! sid some sighing; God be prais- ed! said others, that he is now delivered from all his sufferings! And thus the company parted that evening more tranquil and pensive than ordinarily. #) to stop. e) to drop.. N8 TWELFTH TWELFTH EVENIN G. , What do you intend telling us now, dear Papa?" said Charlotte, when they were again assembled under the apple. tree: because they understood by the father's looks, that he had some history prepared for them. (The whole com pany had in the interim taken instructions in basket making, in which work they were now employed). " Something relative to Robinson?" replied the father, which made the company stare. I Charlotte. Why, I thought he was dead! John. Silence, Charlotte, perhaps he has revived again; don't you remember we supposed him dead once before and nevertheleſs he was living. Father. Robinson fell into convulsions, as I told a) you last; his head sank on his shoulders and he lost b) all consciousness of his existence. Whether he was in reality dead, or only fallen c) into a swoon, was not yet decided. He lay a good while in a state of entire insensibility. At length who could have thought it! he recover'd his senses. All. Oh I am glad! I am very glad! that he is not yet dead! Father. With a deep sigh he began to breathe again, as a) to tell. b) to lose. c) to fall. usual. 153 usual. Then he open'd his eyes and look'd round him, as if he would see, where he was: where he was for in that moment he really doubted, whether he had left his body, or not. At last he convinced himself of the latter, and indeed, not without being sensibly grieved, because death now seemed more eligible to him than life. He felt himself extremely weak, but without much pain. Instead of a dry burning beat, which he had felt before, a strong alleviating sweat ran down from all his limbs. That he might not stop this, he cover'd himself with more skins, and he had scarce been half an hour in this situation, when he began, to feel a most sensible relief. But he now had a most intolerable thirst. The water he had left, was no more drinkable; at last he recollected his lemons. With much ado he at last got one of them, and suck'd out the juice, by which he was sensibly refresh. ed. During this transpiration he fell into a sweet slumber, which continued till sun.rise His heart was now much more at rest, than the day be- fore. The violence of his illness had visibly abated; and now he felt nothing but weakncfs. He even perceived some appetite again, and ate a) one of the roasted potatoes, on which be squeezed some lemon juice, to make the taste of it more refreshing. The two foregoing days he had not troubled himself about his lamas; but now it was a moving sight for him, to see them lying at his feet, whilst some of them were staring at him, as if they would ask him, if he was not something better. These animals can pals many days without drink- ing, as well as camels: otherwise it would have been bad with them at present, because they had not had any thing to drink for two days: and Robinson was yet too weak to rise and fetch water for them, a) to eat. 154 Now the old slie lama coming within his reach, he got hold of her, and used all his efforts in drawing some milk from her, that she might not lose it. This fresh milk was certainly very wholesome for his sick body, for it res freshed him surprisingly.. Now he again fell into a sleep, from which he did not awake till sun-set, when he perceived his appetite to be much greater, than it had been before. He therefore ate some more potatoes with lemon-juice, and composed him: self to sleep again. This uninterrupted refreshing sleep and the goodrels ef his constitution contributed so much to the recovery of his strength, that he could rise again the next morning and walk a few steps, tho' he was but weak and unsteady on his legs. He stagger'd out of his cave into his yard. Here he lifted his eyes up to heaven; a kindly refreshing beam of the mor ning sun shot a) thro' the trees on his countenance, and he became as new born. O'thou eternal source of life! cried he, falling on his knees; Godt my God! Accept of my thanks for having let me once more see thy beautiful sun, and in his light the wonders of thy creation! my thanks for not having forsaken me in my distress; for having re- called me once more into life, to grant me more time for my amendment! grant, that I may employ every day of my remaining life for that purpose, that I may at all times be found ready, to go to the place of our eternal destina- tion, where we shall receive the reward of our good and bad actions!"' and After this short but hearty prayer, his eyes were delight- ed with the sight of the vast blue vault of heaven, with the trees and shrubs, that stood before him, adorned a) to shoot. with 155 with fresh verdure and pearled over with dew; then again with his lamas, that came joyfully fondling about him. He seemed as just returned home from a long journey; his heart overwhelmed with joy. The enjoyment of the fresh air, and the fresh water, which he mixed with milk, and the tranquil serenity of his mind contributed not a little to his entire recovery. His strength returned in a few days and he again found himself able, to return to his usual occupation. what became of his all his vessels were His first business was, to examine, pots. He open'd the oven, and lot 60 well glazed, as if they had been made by a potter. In the height of his joy, he forgot; that he was now unable to make any use of these fine things, because his fire was out. At last when he recollected it, he stood quite deject ed, first looking at his pots and pipkins, then again at the fire hearth in his kitchen hearing a sigh. • But his grief did not exceed the bounds of moderation this time. He thought, the same kind providence, who lately gave him fire, could give it him again a second time in the same or in another manner, whenever she pleased. Now he knew moreover, that he had no winter to appre▾ herd here; and though he was from his youth accustomed to eat meat: yet he hoped, he should be able, to do without it and live only on fruits and the milk of his lamas. Charlotte. Why he might have ate smoked meat; that needs not be boiled first. Father. That's true; but how could he smoke his meat? Charlotte. Oh, I did not think of that. Father. However he did not repent of having made the pots for he could use them at least as milk (vessels. The biggest of them he intended for a particular use. John Well, and for what? Fas 156 Father. He thought, his potatoes would take better, if he could eat some butter with them. Theophilus. I dare say Father. But it was impossible for him, to make a wooden churn. He would therefore try, whether he could not make butter in a large pot. For this end he gathered as much cream as he thought sufficient. Then he made a small wooden trencher with a hole in the middle, in which he fastened a stick. With this instrument be churned up and down in his pot filled with cream, till the butter was separated from the butter. milk; upon which he washed it with water and mixed it with a little salt. He had thus accomplished, what he intended; but when he was going, to enjoy the fruits of his industry, be re collected, that he could roast no more potatoes, because he had no fire, which he had again forgot in the heat of bis occupation. There was now the fine butter ready, which could not be eaten, and Robinson stood by it with a with a sor rowful countenance, Now he found himself at once in his former dismal situation. Oysters, milk', cocoanuts and raw flesh were again his only means of subsistance, and it was a ques tion, whether he could always have them? The worst was, that he knew no means to render his condition more comfortable. What could he undertake now? All he could do with his bare hands, was already done. He therefore seemed to have nothing more to do, than to pass his life in sleep or in idleness, the most terrible situation he could imagine, For he was now so much accustomed to occupation, that he could not live, without employing his time in some use- ful business and he would say afterwards, that he owed the amendment of his heart to the continual occupation he was forced to by the helpless condition of his solitary abode. Industry, he used to add, industry, good folks, is the mother of many virtues; just as lazinefs is the beginning of many vices ! + John 157 John. Ah, there he was certainly right! when one has nothing to do, one thinks of nothing but nonsense Į Father. To be sure! he therefore avised young people afterwards, by all means to accustom themselves to an ac- tive life, from their very childhood. For, said he, use ourselves when young, so we generally remain for life, lazy or diligent, clever or ignorant, good or bad. Nicholas. That we will observe! as we Father. Do so, good children, and act accordingly : you will not repent of it. Our Robinson considered a long while, what kind of work he should undertake, to pre vent being idle; and what do you think, he resolved upon at last? John. I know, what I should have done. Father, Well, what then? John. I would have dressed the lamas skins, that I might not be obliged, to wear them raw and rough, which must be very inconvenient in such a hot climate. Father. And how would you haye set about it? John. Oh I know, how tanners do: we have seen it Father. And how pray ? John. They first steep the raw hides in water for some days; then they carry them to the shaving.beam and clean them with the shaving-knife, to get the water out of them again. Then they salt the skins and cover them, that the fresh air may not get to them. That they call sweating the skins for in fact, they begin to sweat, as a man, who. works hard. Then they take off the hairs with the shaving knife. Then they put the skins in a liquor, made of bir◄ chen and oaken bark and leven. At last they put the skins: into the tan-pit and pour a liquor over them, made of oaken bark, in which they remain, quite done. that is also till they are. Father. Very well, John; but do you still recollect, O what 158 what kind of leather that is, which the tanners thus pre- pare? John. Yes, such as is used to make shoes, boots and harneſs. Father. A kind of leather, that needs not be so soft, as that, which is used for making breeches, gloves and the like, John. No! Father. And who prepares that? John. The skinner; but that kind of work we have not seen yet. Father. Robinson was nearly in the same case; he had never seen any tanners or skinners at their work; and there- fore he could not imitate either of them. Dick. And how is the skinners work performed? Father. The beginning is the same as the tanners, but their skins are not put in tan or lime (which the tanners use), but in warm water, mixed with bran and leven and afterwards in lie, made of ashes. We will shortly go and see their work, John. Suppose Robinson had known, how the skinners dreſs their skins, he could not have imitated them, for want of branior leven. Father. Do you see? He therefore could not attempt it, Nicholas. Well, and what did he then. Father. Day and night his head was filled with schemes of constructing a kind of small boat, if possible. John. And what would he do with a boat? Father. Do with it? try, if he could not get out of his colitude, which, by the loss of his fire, was now again become quite dismal to him, and to get again into the company of his fellow creatures. He had reason to suppose, that the continent of America was not far off, and he was determined, if he had but a small boat, to brave all dans gers and make the continent, if possible. Full 159 Full of these thoughts he went t) out one day, to look for a tree, which he might scoop out in the form of a small boat. Passing with this intention thro' several parts of the island, where he had not been hitherto, he discovered divers kinds of plants, that were unknown to him, with which he resolved to make different experiments, to find whether they would not serve for his sustenance? Among the rest he found some stalks of indian corn or maize. out, Nicholas. Ah! of that, which I have in my garden? Father. The same! He admired the large ears, every one of which contain'd above two hundred large grains in beautiful rows, like corals. He did not in the least doubt, but he might make some kind of food or even bread of it: but how could he grind it? how could he separate the bran from the flour? how could he make bread or any other food of it, as he had no fire? Nevertheleſs he took some ears along with him, to plant some grains of it. For, thought he, who knows, but I may learn, to make some very good use of it in time? He moreover discovered a fruit - tree, the like of which he had never seen before. It had plenty of large pods, and upon examining one of them, he found, it contain'd at least sixty beans, the taste of which he did not find very agreeable. However he put one of the ripe pods in his bag. John. What fruit might that be? Father. It was cocoa, which the chocolate is made of, : Nicholas. Ah! now he may drink chocholate for the future! Father. Not yet a while! for in the first place he does not know, what it is; and then the beans must first be roasted at the fire, pounded and mixed with sugar; and #) to go. O 2 we 160 va. we know, he has neither fire nor sugar; to which many kinds of spices are generally added, as cardamomum, nilla and cloves; and he had none of these spices. But he might easily have done without these things, had he but known, how to get fire again, At last he found another very large fruit tree, which he did not know either, the fruit of which was as large as a cocoa-nut, and without any shell, consequently quite eata. ble and of a very pleasant taste. The tree was of a quite different species than a cocoa nut tree; it did not, like this, consist only of a stem, terminating in a crown of lar ge leaves; but it had branches and leaves as the fruit trees with us. Afterwards he was informed, that it was what they call bread - trees, because the fruit of it is eaten raw as well as pounded and kneaded into dough, and among the savages supplies the place of bread. } One side of the trunk of this large tree was grown a little hollow with age. He therefore conceived the thought, that it would serve him, to make a boat, if he could only find means to hew it down and hollow it entirely. But should he spoil so useful a tree, in the uncertainty whether he should ever be able, to make a boat of it. This thought terrified him, and he did not know, for a good while, what to do. However he marked the spot, where the tree stood and went home undetermined. a On his return he found what he had long wished for, nest of young parrots, big enough to fly. How great was his joy when he discovered them! But when he stept up, to take the young ones, they all flew away, except one, which he caught h). He was satisfied with having got one, and hurried home with great joy h) to catch. Dick. 161 Dick. Of what great advantage could a parrot be to him then? very great to us, hear men, who Father. He intended to teach him to pronounce some words, that he might have the pleasure of hearing a human like vcice again. That pleasure does not indeed seem so who live in human society, who see and speak and converse with men every day, as that, which Robinson promised himself by hearing the chatter of his parrot. But if we put ourselves in his place, we shall find that, what seems an insignificant trifle to us, was in reality a great encrease of happineſs for him. He therefore hasten'd joyfully home, constructed a cage, as well as he could, put his new friend in it, placed it near his couch and laid himself to rest. THIR- 03 THIRTEENTH EVENING. The next evening the little friends were by order of the father assembled earlier than usual, as he said he was obliged to consult them before he could go on his narration- What are we to consult about? cried the children crowding round about him. Father. About something, which puzzled Robinson's brains the whole night, and did not permit him to close bis eyes. All. Well, what was it? Father. The question was, whether he should cut down the old bread tree, which he discovered yesterday, in the uncertainty of making a boat of it, or whether he should let it stand? John. I should have spared it. Dick. And I would have cut it down, Father. There are two different opinions; one for having the tree cut down, the other for letting it stand. Now let us hear, what the rest will say? Theophilus. I am of John's opinion. Charlotte. I also, dear Papa! The tree shall remain. Frederic. No, it shall be cut down, that poor Robinson may get a boat. Nicholas. I say so too Father. Now divide yourselves in two parties; and then we 163 we will hear, what grounds each has for his opinion. So! Now, do you begin John; why shall the tree be saved? John. Why, because it bears fine fruit, and is perhaps the only one in the whole island. Dick. Oh, it is already old and won't bear fruit much longer! John. How do you know that? It is but a little hollow; and how many hollow trees are there, that bear fruit many years. • ་ Nicholas. Robinson needs only graft a great many young twigs of this tree: and he'll a) get bread trees enough. Theophilus. Yes, but do they grow big directly? And perhaps they will not bear for four years. Frederic. And is not it better for him to get a boat, and return among mankind, than to stay for ever in this island eating bread-fruit ? John. Yes, if the boat could be finished so soon! But with what must he cut down the tree and scoop it? a stone hatchet ! with Dick. Oh, if he only persists for some time and does not grow weary of it, he may at length bring it about. Theophilus. But then he has no sail! And what can he do with the bare boat? Nicholas. He must make a shift with oars! Charlotte. Ay, that will do finely! Have you forgotten b), when we were near Travemunde on the Baltic, *) when one of the sailors broke c) his oar, in what danger. we were? Why Papa said, that, if the broken oar had 04 a) i. e. he will.`b) to forget. c) to break. been *) The little company had been favour'd with that promised plea- sure some time ago. 16 j been quite useless, the other sailor alone could not have rowed us on shore again. Dick. Oh, that was a large boat, and eighteen persons in it. If Robinson makes a small boat with two oars, he will be able to row it himself, Father. Now, my children, you see the matter is not so very easily determined. All you have now said, employed Robinson's head the whole night; and that is called re- flecting, when one is examining whether it would be better to do a thing, or not to do it. Since Robinson had felt the bitter consequences of his rash resolution of travelling about the wide world, he had made it his constant rule, Dever to do any thing again, without first having considered the matter maturely; which he likewise did now. After have ing reflected long enough on it, he found, that all de pended on the following question: whether it was right, to give up a small but certain advantage, for to acquire a more considerable but at the same time uncertain advantage? This reminded him of the fable of the dog, that dropt a) the piece of meat, he had in his mouth, to snatch at the shadow of it in the water, and so bad nothing. Soon after he also recollected, that farmers sow out part of the corn, which they already possefs, in hopes of getting much more by that means. The proceeding of the dog every one will call unreasonable, whereas the proceedings of the husband- men will be deemed reasonable and wise: What may then be the real difference?" said Robinson to himself. » He reflected on it a little while, and then he said to himself: Yes, yes, so it is! The dog acted unreaso- nably, because be only follow'd his greedinefs, without considering, whether it was possible for him to get, what he wished for. But the husband man acts reasonably, be- → cause a) to drop. 165 cause he may with great probability hope, to reap more corn, than he has sown.' " T) Now," said he, am I not in the same case? Is not it probable, that with perseverance I shall at last succeed in making a boat of the old tree? And if I do, may not I hope then, to get away from this melancholy solitude?" In that moment the thought of his deliverance seized his soul with such vigour, that he jumped up directly, took his hatchet, and ran b) to the tree, in order to begin that great work. But if he had ever undertaken a tiresome and tedious piece of business, it was certainly this! A thousand in his place would have dropt the matter after the first stroke or two, and thought it an impossibility. But Robinson had made it a rule, not to be deterred by any difficulty from any reaso- ble undertaking; and therefore he continued steadfast in his resolution for this time, tho' the execution of it should cost him ever so much time and labour! After having worked almost incessantly from sunrise till about noon, the hole which he had made in the tree, by more than a thousand strokes, was not yet so big, that he could put his hand in it. From thence you may con. clude before hand, how much time it will require, to cut down such a thick tree and make a boat of it. He now saw, that it would be a work of more than one year; and he thought it therefore necessary to make a pro- per division of time, to have a certain occupation for every hour of the day. For he had now learned by experience, that in a busy life mothing advances and lightens our labour more, than order and regular division of the hours. I will give you an account, by which you may see, how he em ploy'd every hour. a) to sow. b) to run. 0 5 At 166 At day-break he got up, and ran to the spring, to wash his head, hands, breast and feet. As he bad no towel, he was forced to dry himself in the air, which he easily did, by running as fast as he could back again to his dwelling. Then he dressed himself entirely. That done, he ascended the hill above his cave; where he had a free prospect, there he kneeled down and said his morning prayer with much devotion, never forgetting to beg God to blefs his dear parents. Upon which he milked his lamas, of which he had by degrees rear'd a small stock. Part of the milk he placed in his cellar, and breakfasted on the resta He employed about an hour in doing this. Then he took all his accoutrements, and sallied forth either directly to the tree, or if it was low water, to the seashore, to gather some oysters for his dinner. All his lamas generally followed him, and grazed about him, whilst he was work. ing at his tree. Towards ten o'clock it was generally so warm, that he was forced to leave off working. Then he returned to the seashore, either to gather oysters, in case he had found none in the morning, or to bathe himself, which he usu ally did twice a day. Towards eleven he returned home with his whole retinue. Then he milked his lamas again; made cheese of the sour milk and prepared his dinner, which most commonly consisted of milk and fresh curds, some oysters and half a cocoa- nut. It was very happy that people in these hot countries have not half so much appetite as in colder cli- mates. Nevertheless he greatly longed for some meat, and at last he could not forbear trying his old way of beating the to make it tender. meat, At dinner he amused himself with his parrot, and talk. ed to him, in order to teach him, to pronounce some words. Fre 167 Frederic. And what did he feed him with? Father. Wild parrots generally feed upon cocoa-nuts; acorns and the seeds of pumpkins: when tame they eat almost every thing, that men do. Robinson fed a) his with cocoa- nuts and cheese. After dinner he generally laid himself an hour in the shade or in his cave, with his parrot and lamas about him. There he used to sit some time and taik to his animals, just as little children, who talk to their dolls, and imagine, the dolls understand them. So much did his mind want to com- municate his thoughts and sensations to some living being. that he often forgot, he was speaking to brutes. And when his parrot, which he called Poll, repeated some intelligi- ble word after him: oh, who was happier than he! He imagined, he heard a human voice; forgot his island, la- mas, parrot and thought himself in the midst of Europe. But this agreeable illusion generally lasted but a minute; then he sat again entirely conscious of his deplorable so- litary life, sighing; poor Robinson! About two o'clock in the afternoon Nicholas. Ay, but how did he know then, what oi clock it was? Father. He observed the very same clock, that is observ- ed by the country people with us, the sun, and thence he judged, what time of day it was. About two o'clock in the afternoon he used to return to his shipbuilder's work. In this very hard labour he again employed two full hours. After that he went again to the sea-shore, to bathe himself and to look for oysters. The rest of the day he spent in all sorts of gardener's work. Sometimes he planted maize or potatoes, in hopes of getting fire some time or other, to make use of them; sometimes he 1 6) to feed. b) to sit. 168 he grafted bread trees; then again he watered the young grafted trees; sometimes he planted hedges to enclose his garden ground; and at other times 'he pruned the hedge to make the branches grow so as to form a large bower in time. before his cave, To Robinson's grief the longest day in his island was but thirteen hours, so that it began to grow dark about seven o'clock in the evening. He was therefore compelled, to do all the business, that required daylight, before that time. * 3 Towards six o'clock, when he had nothing else to do, he passed some time in martial exercises.. ** Theophilus. What is the meaning of that?. Father. He exercised himself in shooting with the bow, in throwing the lance, that he might in case of need be able to defend himself against the attaks of savages. He acquired such dexterity by degrees in both these exercises, that he seldom missed a mark no bigger than half a crown.; In the dusk of the evening he milked his lamas for the last time, and took his rural and frugal supper by the light of the moon or the stars, The last hour in the evening he employ'd in reflecting on himself. Then he either ascended the hill, where the vault of the sky adorned with innumerable stars was over him or he walked in the cool of the evening towards the sea- shore. Then he would propose the following questions to himself: ,, How have I spent a) this day? Have I remember'd the great giver of all things in the enjoyment of his gifts, which he has most bountifully bestow'd on me this day? Hás my heart felt any love and gratitude towards him? Have I confided in him, when it went ill with me, and have ( #) to spend. not 169 not forgotten him, when I was joyful? Have I Have I supprest every ill thought and every evil inclination as soon as they arose in me? And have I made any real progreſs in good. nels to day?" Now every time he could answer these and the like ques tions to himself with a joyful affirmation: oh, how happy he was! And with what fervency did he then sing a hymn to the praise of that bountiful God who granted him grace to become good! But as often as he had reason not to be quite satisfied with himself: oh, how sorry he was then for having lost one day of his life! For he thought every day lost, n) on which he had thought or done any thing, which he was obliged to disapprove in the evening.. Now he mark- ed every notch of such days on his calendar-tree with a croſs, to put him in mind of his wrongs at the sight of it, and to be the more upon his guard for the future. Look, my dear children, thus, Robinson acted every day- in order to grow better and more pious. Now if it be your real earnest, to amend your hearts; I advise you to imi.. tate him in that point. Like him, fix an hour in the eve. ning, to reflect on your conduct during the day; and if you find, that you have thought, spoke, or done any thing, what you can not approve of before God and your own conscience, write it down in a small book, to put you in mind of it from time to time, and to be for ever on your guard against the commission of the same fault. Thus, like him, you will daily grow better and consequently more sa- tisfied and happier. Now the father rose; and each of them betook himself tó a particular walk in the garden, in order to put his good advice in execution immediately. to lose. I : P ; FOUR : ! FOURTEENTH EVENING. Now, my children, continued the father the next eve ning, our Robinson lived three whole years, one day like the other in the same manner, as I have mentioned to you last night. During this long period of time he con. tinued his ship-builder's work with the utmost diligence; and how forward do you think, he brought it? Alas! 1 the tree was not yet half scoop'd out, and it still seem'd very doubtful whether be should be able, with all his industry, to finish the whole work in three or four years more ! Notwithstanding he went thro' his work with patience; for what could he do else? And he would not remain idle, and could not be without doing something! One day the thought struck him, that he had now lived so long in the island, and yet he had seen but the least part of it. He thought it was not right to be so long deterred by his timi- dity from making a journey all over the island. Who knows, what he might probably discover in other parts of it to his future advantage! This thought grew a) so strong in his mind, that he im mediately determined, to begin his journey the next morn- ing at break of day." a) to grow. Ni 1 171 Nicholas. And how extensive might his island be? Father. About as large as the territories of Hambourgh, the bailiwick of Rizzebuttel included, about four german miles long and twelve in circumference, re. On the very same day he prepared every thing for his de- parture, The next morning he loaded one of his lamas with provisions for four days, took all his accoutrements, commended himself to the divine protection, and set out with confidence. His intention was to keep as near the sea- shore as possible, because he did not yet like to venture into thick woods for fear of wild beasts. He met a) with nothing remarkable the first day of his journey. He made about three german miles, and the fur ther he proceeded, the more he was convinced, that he had chosen b) his habitation in the worst part of the is land. In many places he discovered fruit trees, the like of which he had not seen before, and which he supposed would afford him wholesome and palatable food. Afterwards he learnt their names by the proper use of them. Among the rest there was a papermulberry-tree, of the bark of which the Japanese make very fine paper, and the inhabitants of Otaheite make beautiful stuffs of it for summerclothing. I'll shew you a sample-afterwards, which I have received from England. Robinson spent the night on a tree, for fear of wild beasts, and at break of day he continued his journey. He did not walk very long, till he reached the southern extremity of the island. Here the soil was sandy in some places. Whilst he was going to the furthest point of the land, he stopt c) short in one place, as if he had been thunderstruck; d) he grew as pale as ashes and his whole frame trembled. P 2 a) to meet. b) to chuse, c) to stop. d) to strike. John. 172 John. Why so? Father. He saw something, he did not expect to see; the prints of several human feet in the sand. Nicholas. And that terrified him so much? why, he ought to be glad of that! Father. The reason of his terror was this: in that mo- ment be figured to himself the man, the prints of whose feet he saw, not as a brotherly affectionate being, ready to help and serve bim wherever he could: but as a cruel hostile creature, that would attack him with rage, that would kill and devour him. In a word, he did not sup. pose a civilized european at the sight of these prints, but one of the savage Cannibals, who at that time, you know, were said to inhabit the Caribbee islands. 1 Theophilus. Yes, I dare say; no wonder, he was so terrified. as to Father. But it would have been wiser and better, if he had been accustomed from his youth, not to be so much frighten'd at any danger, no, not at the greatest, lose presence of mind. And that, my dear children, we can all compafs, if we do but betimes endeavour, to ac quire strength of body and mind. John. Ay, but how is that to be attained? Father By hardening our body, dear John, as much as possible by an industrious, temperate and natural way of life, and by endeavouring, to raise cur minds above eve ry vicissitude of fortune, by unpolluted virtue and piety, and by arming ourselves before-hand against every misfor tune. Thus if you learn, after our example, to be satis fied with the moderate enjoyment of wholesome, and plain victuals, and to despise the sweet poison of delicacies mo. re and more; by shunning idleness as the corrupter of the soul and body, and busying yourselves as much as possible with occupations of the mind- by learning and reflecting 60- 173 sometimes and at other times by bodily work; if you accustom yourselves of your own accord, to renounce something or other, which you are very fond of, and which you might have if you pleased, and if you will resolve, to undergo something, which is very disagreeable to you and your entire aversion, and which you were able, to free yourselves from; if you will endeavour to do, without the assistance of other men, as much as possible; satisfy your own wants by the strength of your own body and the power of of your understanding, and extricate yourselves from difficulties; in ne, if you endeavour du- ring your whole life-time, to preserve that valuable trea- sure, a good conscience, and by these means secure to yourselves the approbation and Love of orr almighty, our bountiful heavenly Father: then, my dear children, will grow sound and strong, both in body aud soul; then you will remain unconcerned in every vicissitude of fortune, because you are then firmly convinced, that nothing can Lappen to you, but what is sent a) you, for your good, by our wise and mest bountiful God. ► you Qur Robinson, you see, was not yet come so far in that firiness of mind, founded upon piety, as was requisite to make him easy and happy. The cause of which was un- doubtedly, his having, for some years past, led b) a life free from all dangers and ill accidents. For, my children observe this important truth! too much ease and sej curity spoil man, render him effeminate and timorous and generally vicious; and it is therefore a true blessing of God, to send us from time to time some adversity, to put the powers of our body and mind into activity and strengthen our courage by exercise. Robinson stood c), as I told you, struck with confu P 3 a) to send. b) to lead. ) to stand. sion, 174 sion, at the sight of these prints of human feet in the sand. He looked fearfully arround him, listened with great anxie- ty to the least rustling of the leaves, and, in his confu sion, he did not know for a good while, what to resolve upon. At last he summoned up all his strength, ran away like one who is pursued, and had not even the courage to look behind him. But all of a sudden something made him- start, and changed his fears into horror and dismay. He perceived prepare yourselves, my children, for the most shocking spectacle, and to see the horrible con- dition, into which men may fall, who grow up without any education and instruction, and are left to themselves be perceived a space like a circle, in the midst of which there had been a fire. My blood runs cold to tell it you; there lay scattered about sculls, hands, feet and other parts of human bodies, the flesh of which had been gnawed off. All. By whom? Father. By men, but no, only by such creatures, as have the mere shape of men, who, grown up stupid and brutish, like wild beasts, had neither aversion nor huma- nity, to detain them from butchering their brothers and devouring their flesh. At that time (I have told a) it you once before, if I be not mistaken,) the Caribbee islands were inhabited by savages, called Caribbees, cannibals, or meneaters, because they had the horrible custom of killing all those of their enemies, whom they took prisoners in to roast, and afterwards devour them with great avi- dity in singing and dancing. war, Charlotte. Fie! what detestable creatures! Father. Their inhuman manners, my dear Charlotte, we will detest, but not the poor people themselves, who can- a) to tell. not 175 not help their not being properly instructed and educated. Had you been so unfortunate, as to have been born among such savages: you would certainly rove about the woods like them and be as naked, wild and unreasonably, as they are; you would bedaub your face and body with red paint; you would have holes pierced thro' your ears and nose; you would not be a little proud, to wear feathers, cockle shells and other trinkets in them, and you would with as much pleasure share in the feasts of your savage parents and coun try men, as you now do in our better meals, Rejoice therefore, my dear children, and thank God, that you are born of civilized, humane parents, with whom it is easy for you, to become civilized, sensible and humane and pity the fate of our fellow - creatures who live in the unhappy state of savage brutality! Frederic. Are there any such people to be found still? John. Far, very far from here, Frederic, in an island called New Zealand! Papa read something of it to us, last winter, from the history of voyages. There the natives are said, to be still so savage and barbarous, as to eat humán flesh. But the English who have discovered that island, will know, how to civilize them. Frederic. That will be well done! Father. Let us now return to our Robinson. He turned away his face from this loathsome spectacle, he grew sick, and would have fainted, if nature had not been eased by his vomiting very copiously. As soon as he had somewhat recovered himself, he ran away with the utmost precipitation. His faithful lama could scarcely follow him. Nevertheleſs it did. But fear had so much confused our poor Robinson's understanding, that in his flight he forgot the beast that followed him, whose steps he mistook a) for those of some Cannibal pursuing him, and P 4 in a) to mistake. 176 in the great anxiety of his mind, exerted all his strength in order, to escape him. This was not enough; even his ac- coutrements, his lance, his bow and his stone hatchet, which he ought to have esteemed above all things, all this he flung b) away, because they impeded him in his flight. In all this be so little minded his way, that he sometimes turned one way and sometimes another, and thus not know. ing where he was, he ran about in a perfect circle, and after about an hour's running he found himself at the same dreadful spot, whence he had set out. This was a new cause of terror and perplexity; for he did not perceive, that this was the very place, which he had seen before, but thought, it was another monument of the inhuman barbarity of those, he fled c) from. Thus he ran away as swift as his legs could carry him, and did not cease running, till he dropped down, quite spent and faint with fatigue. Whilst he was lying in this manner, quite senseless, his lama returned to him and lay down at his feet. Now this. happened, to be the very same place, where he had flung d) away his accoutrements. Upon opening his eyes some. time after, he found all his things lying on the grafs by him. This and all what happened to him before, seemed a dream to him; he did not know where he was himself, nor how all these things came here; for fear had quite deprived him. of the use of his senses! He got up again; but the vehemence of his passion having in th mean time subsided, he was more careful to preserve his accoutrements; the only means of defence, he had now in his possession, and took them along with him But he found himself so infeebled, that it was impossible for bim to continue running as fast as he had done e) be b) to Aing. c) to fly. d) to fing. e) to do, fore, 177 fore, though his fear urged him on as much as ever. He felt no bunger the whole day, and only once he took time to quench his thirst at a spring. He hoped to reach his habitation; but that was impos- sible. At night-fall be found himself more than half an hour's walk from his dwelling, at a place, which he used to call his summer place, which consisted of a bower and a pretty large inclosure, where he kept f) part of his flock, be- cause the graſs was much better there, than near his habi tation. He had for some years spent several nights at this place during the summer season; because there were few- er moschitos; and for that reason he called his arbour by that name. His strength was quite exhausted, and it was impossible for him to go any farther, however dangerous it might ap. pear to him, to sleep in an open bower. He therefore de- termined, to stay there. But he had scarce laid himself down on the ground, quite weary and possessed with the wildest ideas more dreaming, than awake: when he was again so much frightened, that it had almost killed him, John. Heaven help us! What must he suffer! Nicholas. Pray, what was it? Father. He heard a voice as from heaven, calling to him quite distinctly: Robinson poor Robinson, where have you been? how came you hither? Theophilus. Blefs me! What could that be? Father, Robinson started up in the utmost confusion trembling like an aspen leaf and not knowing, whether he should stay or run away. In the same moment he heard the same words over again, and looking towards the place. whence the voice proceeded, he saw All. Ah, who can know that! X what do you think? f) to keep. P 5 Fa- 178 Father. He saw, what the fearful would generally find, if they would only take time to examine things, that he had no reason at all to be frightened. For the voice came not from heaven, but from a branch of his arbour, upon which his dear parrot was sitting. All. Ah! Father. Time had probably seemed long to him at home, and as he had sometimes accompanied his master to his arbour, he came hither to look for him. But Robinson had taught g) him these words, which he pronounced several times, and he had retained them. How happy was Robinson, to have discovered the cause of this new terror! He reached out his hand, calling, Poll! and the familiar merry thing presently came h) down perch. ed upon his thumb, laid his bill close to his cheek, continued to chatter: Robinson, poor Robinson, where have you been? and Robinson could scarce close his eyes during the whole night for fear and apprehension. He formed nothing but the most dismal imagination. His fancy always presented to him that dreadful place, which he had seen, and in vain did he endeavour to banish it from his imagination. Oh, what foolish and pernicious resolutions does a man take, when his passions have once obscured his understanding! Robinson resolved in his mind a thousand schemes for his safety, of which one was still more extravagant than the other. Among the rest would you believe it? be resolved to destroy every thing, he had hitherto made with so much labour and fatigue, as soon as day-light should appear. He in- tended, to cut down the arbour, he now lay in; then the inclosure before it, and let his lamas run, where they pleased. Then he would also demolish his habitation, g) to teach, h) to come. and the 179 the fine wall, he had made before it. Finally he would also dig up his gardens and plantations, so that not the least mark of any human contrivance should remain in the whole island. John. Why would he do so? Father. That the savages, if ever they should come in that part of the island, should not be able to perceive, that any human creature lived there. Now we will leave him to his uneasy thoughts, because we are unable to help him; and while we lay down on our secure beds, we will offer our joyful thanks to that bountiful God, who suffered us to be born in a country, where we live among civilized people, who love and help us, and where we have nothing to fear from savage monsters. All. Good night, Papa! Thank you for your interest- ing story! EIET. FIFTEENTH EVENIN G. (The Father proceeds) My children, it is a true proverb: Advise with your pil- low. That we may see by Robinson's example. • You know, what foolish resolutions his inmoderate fear suggested him yesterday. It was well for him, that he was obliged, to postpone the execution of it till the next day; for the wellcome light of day had scarce dispersed the gloomy shades of night, when he began to consider things in a very different point of view. What he thought good, wise and necessary the day before, now appeared to him bad, foolish and unnecessary. In a word, he rejected all those rash schemes, which fear had made him project and took others that were approved of by reason. His example, my dear children, may serve warn you, never to execute any hasty resolutions especially in things, that may be deferred, but rather leave it to the following day, if possible. "9 Robinson now found, that his fear had been extravagant the day before. I have been here so long already, thought he to himself, and no savage ever came in that part, where my habitation is. A sufficient proof, that there are none in the island. In all probability some of them only come ever 18r over here at times from other islands, to celebrate their victories, and keep their inhuman festivals; and then they always land at the southern point of the island and leave it again without looking any further about them. It is there. fore again a new and evident proof of the kindneſs of divine providence, that I was thrown a) in this barren part of the island, which is the securest. Why then should I not rely on God, that he will further protect me from danger, as his wise and kind providence for me has been hitherto so visible." for Now he reproached himself in the bitterest manner, having placed so little confidence in God in his extravagant fear the day before; he fell with repentance on his knees, begged pardon for this new transgression, and humbly re signed himself to the infinitely wise and good providence of God. Thus newly strengthened, he bent his way to his habitation, to do, what he had now resolved upon, John. And what would he do now? Father. He would only make some dispositions for his greater safety; and in this he acted very reasonably. For, tho' we must trust in God's providence, convinced that he will not forsake us in necessity, if we endeavour to his hy will, yet we must neglect nothing on our side, that may contribute to our safety and happineſs. For God Al- migy has given us our understanding and all the powers of our soul and body, for the procuration of our happineſs. The first thing he did, was to plant a thick wood at some distance about the wall, that surrounded his habitas tion, to hinder his castle from being seen at a distance. For this purpose he planted by degrees near two thousand etiks of some kind of willows, the easy and quick growth of which, he had already experienced. These he did not Q plant #) to throw. 182 plant in rows, but in an irregular manner on purpose, so nanner`on that the whole seemed to be a natural wood, and not made by the hands of man. Next he resolved to make a subterraneous passage from his cave to the other side of the hill, that in case of need, if his castle should happen to be taken by enemies, he might have a means, to save himself. This was again a trouble. some and tedious attempt, and you may easily think, that his ship building was now for some time neglected. In making this passage under ground, he proceeded in the Game manner, as miners do in the mines. Theophilus. Pray, how is that? : John. Have you forgot it? First they dig straight down. wards, as if they were digging a well; and then they dig side-ways, and then again downwards, and then again side - ways, till they come to such places, where they find any ore. Father. That's well explained! Now observe when they dig sideways (which is called horizontally), the earth would fall down on their heads, if they did not prop it. Thus they fix it with posts and croſs beams, and our Ro- binson worked in the same manner, All the earth, he dug out of this passage, he threw by so that it at last became a rampalight against his wall, foot thick and ten foot high. He left small openings in se- veral parts of it, like embrasures to look thro'. At the same time he cut out some steps in it, for the conveniency of going up and down and to defend his castle, if neces sary, from the top of the rampart. , Now he seemed to be sufficiently secured against any sud- den b) to throw. 183 den attack. But, if the enemies should take it in their heads, to besiege him in due form? how then? This case seemed not impossible; he thought it there fore necessary, to provide for that too, that he might not be reduced by hunger and thirst, to surrender. For this purpose he resolved, to keep at least one milk - lama in his yard, and to have always a hay rick in reserve for his food, which he would not touch, but in case of need; to keep so much cheese as it was possible for him to spare and finally, to lay up a provision of fruits and oysters one day to another, and keep them as long as he from could. £ He was forced, to give over another plan, because he foresaw ), it would cost him too much time, which was, to lead thro' his yard, a small rivulet proceeding from a spring, not far from his habitation, in order to be pro- vided with water in case of a siege. But then he had a considerable eminence to cut thro', which, by only one pair of hands, could not be done without a great deal of time. He thought proper therefore, to drop this project and re. turn to his shipwright's work. Thus some years rolled over again, in which there hap per'd nothing remarkable. I hasten therefore to one of the most important accidents, which had a greater influence on the fate of our good friend, than any thing, that had his therte happened to him in his island. When Robinson was busy working at his boat on a fine warm morning, he unexpectedly perceived a great smoke, rising at a distance. His first sensation at this sight was terror, the second curiosity, and both together urged him to run as fast as he could to the hill behind his castle, to see from there, what might be the cause of it. He had Q 3 on, scar. c) to foresee. 184 scarce ascended the hill. when to his greatest astonishment he discovered fiye canoes or small boats, and at least thirty savages about a large fire capering and dancing about the Dames with barbarous gestures and marks of joy. Tho' Robinson was very well prepared for such a specta cle, yet he was again near losing his senses for fear and terror; but this time he recalled his courage and confidence in God sooner, than before; he ran down the hill in all haste, to put himself in a posture of defence, he seized his accoutrements, and committing himself to God's proteca. tion, took the manly resolution, to defend his life till his last breath. He had scarce taken this resolution, and streng then'd his mind by a short prayer, when his heart became so easy, that he felt courage enough, to ascend to the top by his rope ladder, in order to observe the enemy's motions. But how did his heart palpitate with indignation and hor. ror, when he saw them pretty distinctly dragging two poor wretches from the boats towards the fire! He doubted not, but they would be inhumanly butcher'd, and in the same moment his suspicions were confirmed in the most shocking manner. Some of those monsters knocked down the_pri• soner, and some others got hold of him, probably to open his body and prepare it for their abominable feast. At the same time another prisoner stood by as spectator, till it should come to his tura. But this poor wretch perceiving them all busy about his murdered comrade, and not very mindful of him, he suddenly started away from them, and ran with incredible swiftneſs towards Robinson's habitation. Joy, hope, fear and horror now at once got possession of our hero's heart, and first made his cheeks glow like scarlet and then as pale as death; joy and hope prevailed. in his heart, because he perceived, that the fugitive could outrun 1 185 be. outrun his pursuers; fear and horror on the contrary, cause the fugitive and his pursuers came running directly towards his castle. However there was a small creek between which the unfortunare fugitive would be obliged to cross, if lie would not be taken. But he had scarce reached it, when, without hesitation he immediately plunged into the flood, and with the same swiftneſs, he had shewn d) in run- ning, swam to the opposite shore. Two of his foremost pursuers plunged in after him, the rest returned to their abominable feast. With inward satis- faction Robinson beheld e), that these two could by no means match the former in swimming, who was already running towards his habitation, whilst the others had scarce half crossed the creek. At this moment Robinson felt himself animated with more courage, than be had ever before experienced. Fire flashed from his eyes; his heart urged him to assist the poor wretch; he seized his lance, and without hesitating one moment, down he ran the hill and was in a thrice between the fugitive and his pursuers. Stop! he cried to the for mer with a loud thundering voice, jumping forward from among the bushes; stop! The poor fugitive looked be hind him, and was so terrified at the sight of Robinson who was quite covered with skins, that he did not know, whether he should fall down before him, or run away. Robinson beckon'd to him with his hand, gave him to understand, that he was come to protect him, and was at the same time advancing towards his pursuers. He was now come so near, that he could reach the foremost with bis lance. He summon'd up his courage, and gave him such a thrust in his naked body, that he fell down to the ground. The other, who was about a hundred paces be Q 3 hind to shew.) to behold. 186 hind, stopt f) short; took his bow from his back and having fixed an arrow to it, shot at Robinson, whilst he was advancing towards him. The arrow hit directly that part of his body, where the heart is lodged, but it had luckily so little force, as if it had been against an armour, without doing him the least harm. Our courageous combatant did not give the enemy time, to shoot a second arrow; he ran up to him, and laid him sprawling in the sand, whilst he was again bending his bow. And now he turned towards him, whom he had rescued. The fugitive stood between hope and fear on the same spot, where Robinson had called to him, not knowing, whether all this was for his deliverance, or whether it would be his turn next. The victor halloed to him again and beck. on'd him to approach. He obey'd; but soon stopt again. then he drew g) a little nearer, and then again he stopt with visible marks of terror and in the posture of a suppli cant. Robinson gave him all possible marks of his friendly intention, and again beckon'd him to come near. He did. so; but kneeled down at every ten or twelve steps with gestures of the greatest humility, as if he would thank him and do him homage at the same time. Hereupon Robinson threw off his mask and shewed him a human and friendly face; upon which the savage approa ched without any hesitation, kneeled down before him, kissed the ground, laid himself flat down, and set Robin- son's foot on his head, probably as an assurance, that he would be his slave. But our hero, who stood in need more of a friend than a slave, lifted him up very kindly and 'endeavour'd to convince him by all possible means, that he had nothing but kindness to expect from him. But there was still more to be done, f) to draw. " One 187 One of the savages, who in all probability ws probability was not mor• tally wounded, and had only got a wound in his belly, began to come to himself pulled up some grats and stuffed it in his wound, in order to stop the blood. Robinson made his savage attentive to this and he answered him some words in his own tongue which tho' he could not under. stand, yet founded like musik in his ears, because it was. the first human voice, he heard after so many years. Upon which the Indian pointed to his batchet, then to himself, and gave him to understand, that he wished to have it, in order to dispatch his enemy with it. Our hero, who was loath to shed human blood, and yet sensible of the necessity of killing the wounded savage, gave his vassal the hatchet, and turned aside. He took it, and away he rau to the wounded savage, and at one blow cleft h) his scull down to the very shoulders. When the exploit was done he returned smiling, and with many very odd gestures laid the scull of the slain, as a trophy, at his feet. Robinson gave him to understand by signs, to take the bow and arrows from the dead man and follow him. But the savage made him comprehend, that he would first bury the dead carcafs in the sand, that his comrades, in case they came to look for him, might not find him. Robinson having signified that he approved his precaution, the savage was so nimble with his hands, that in lefs, than a quarter of an hour both dead bodies were buried. Upon which they both went towards Robinson's habitation and got up the hill. Charlotte, But, Papa, now Robinson was become. murderer. Frederic. Why, he had only killed savages; what did that signify? A) to cleave. QA Chars 188 Charlotte. But neverthelefs they were men! Father. To be sure they were, Frederic, and either Bavage or civilized is nothing to the purpose. The question is only whether he had a right to kill the poor wretch? what do you think of it, John? John. I think, he was in the right Father. Why so? John. Because they were such monsters, and would otherwise have killed the other poor fellow who probably had done them no harm. Father. But how could Robinson know that? Perhaps he deserved death? Perhaps those, that pursued him, were officers of justice, who had orders from their supe. rior, to do so? And then, who had made Robinson jud. ge over them? Nicholas. Ay, but if he had not killed them, they would perhaps have seen his castle, and then they would have told the rest of it. Theophilus. And they would all have come and killed Robinson himself. Frederic. And devour'd him afterwards! Father. Now you have hit the matter : he was forced, to do it for his own security, very right? But has one a right to kill another, to save one's own life? All. Oh yes! Father. Why? John. Because it is God's will, that we preserve our lives, as long as we possibly can. If therefore any one will kill us, it must be right, to kill him first, to prevent his killing us. Father. To be sure, my dear children my dear children, such self - de fence is allowable by divine and human laws, but serve me well! in that case only when there is no ob. other Tee 189 remedy, to save ourselves. Whereas if we have an oppor tunity to escape, or to be protected by others, or to dis. able our pursuers from hurting us: any attempt upon his life is real murder, and is punish'd as such by the law. Do not forget, to thank God, my dear children, that we live in a country, in which our superiors have made such good dispositions for our security, that scarce one man in a thousand can ever come to the melancholy necessity of fighting for his self-preservation. This is sufficient for to day. Q 5 SIX. SIXTEENTH EVENING. After the meeting of the company the following evening, and the usual exclamation,, ah, of Robinson! of Robinson!" having past from mouth to mouth, the Father proceeded with his narration in the following manner: H My dear children, our Robinson's fate, which we all have so much at heart, is as yet undecided. He clamber'd up the hill behind his habitation, as I told you before, with the savage, whose life he had preserved and there we left him yesterday, incertain what would become of them? His situation was still very dangerous! For what could in all probability be expected, but that the savages, as soon as their horrible feast was ended, would follow their two com- rades and look for their deserted prisoner? And if they did so, how much was it not to be feared but they would die. cover Robinson's habitation, take it by storm, and kill him and his vassal at the same time? ! Robinson shuddered at this thought, as he stood on the top of the hill behind a tree, contemplating the abomina- ble expressions of joy and the dances of these savage mon- aters at a distance. He deliberated hastily, whether he had best flee, or return to his castle? One thought of God, the protector of innocence. gave him strength and courage to chuse the latter. He therefore crept, a) on his hands and a) to creep. IgE and feet to avoid being seen, behind some low bushes towards his rope- ladder, and ordered his companion by signs, to do the same. And thus they both got down. Here the savage stared, to see the convenient and regu• lar disposition of his deliverer's habitation, because be had never seen any thing so handsome in his life. He was near- ly in the same frame of mind, as a country man, who hav ing never been away from his village, sees a palace for the first time. Robinson gave him to understand by signs, what he ap prehended for them both from his barbarous country men, and signified to him his resolution of defending his life to the last drop of his blood. The savage understood him, made a dreadful face, brandished the hatchet, which he had still in his hands, several times over his head, and then turned with a threatening countenance to that side, where he saw his enemies, as if challenging them to sight, and by all this he gave his protector to understand, that he did not want courage, to defend himself bravely. Ro- binson praised his valour, gave him a bow and one of his lances, (of which he had made several by degrees) and placed him as a centinel at a little hole, which he had left on purpose in his wall, and thro' which one could over look the space between the wall and the wood which he had planted. He placed himself fully accoutred at the other side of the wall, where he had likewise left an opening for the same purpose. : They had remained almost an hour in this manner, when they were suddenly alarmed by the confused noise of many voices, but at a pretty great distance. They both prepared for battle, and encouraged each other by signs. The noise ceased; then they heard similar cries and something near◄ er too, upon which a dreadful silence ensued again. Now Char 192 Charlotte. Oh Papa, I shall run away', if they come!. Frederic. Fie! who whould be such a coward! Theophilu;. Let them alone, Charlotte! Robinson will fight them; I am not at all afraid of that. Charlotte, Well, you'll see, they will certainly mure der him. John. Oh, be quiet! Father. Now they beard a single coarse voice, bellow ing hideously in the wood which was repeated by the echo of the hill. Our champions stood prepared; their bows were already bent, to send an arrow to the heart of the first, that should make his appearance. Their eyes sparkled with valiant expectation, and were continually fixed on that part of the wood, from whence the voice had proceeded Here the father broke a) off abruptly and the children were all silent full of expectation. But nothing ensued. At last they all asked him as with one voice: why he did not continue? and the father answered: " To afford you another opportunity, by which you may moderate your desires! You are all probably very anxious to know the result of that dreadful battle, which seems to await our Robinson; and I am also ready, to tell it you, if you desire it. But how? if you gave it up of your own accord? if you suppressed your curiosity and deferred the gratification of it till to morrow? However you are at per fect liberty, speak: will you? or will you not?” We will! we will! was the general reply, and thus the continuation of the story was adjourned till the next evening * a) to break. In *) But our young readers must know, that these children had since some time been much exercised in this way of self- denial and that it was not in the least hard for them, to give up their deas 193 In the interim every one continued his usual work, and they held a) an instructive conversation, untill the beating of the drum for supper. Some made baskets, other laces, and others again made plans for a little fortification, that was shortly to be constructed in the great yard; and the following evening the father continued his narration, where he bad broken b) off. Robinson and his gallant vassal remained in that warlike posture, in which we left them yesterday, without seeing or hearing any thing further. At last they both conjectured; that the savages had given up their fruitless search, and re- turned home in their carroes. They therefore laid down their arms, and Robinson went to fetch some of his provisiona for supper. As this remarkable day, which is so particularly distin guished in the history of our friend, was a friday, he re- solved to give that name to the savage, he had saved and therefore called him Friday. Robinson had now time, to consider him a little nearer, He was a very comely handsome young fellow, well made, and about twenty years of age. His skin was of a bright dun olive colour; his hair was black, but not curled like wool as that of the blacks is; his nose small but not flat; his lips were thin, and his teeth well set and white as a driven snow. In both his ears he wore cockle - shells and feathers, of which he seemed not to be a little proud. As to the rest he was naked from head to foot. One of our Robinson's principal virtues was bashfulneſs. Nothwithstanding he was very hungry, yet he took time first, to cut an apron for his naked companion out of an a) a to hold. b) to break. R old rest pleasures with a smiling countenance; and they will do well, to imitate these children, who find it very good for them. 194 old skin, and to tie it about him with some pack. thread. Then he made him sit down by him and eat his supper. Friday (for so we will call him for the future) drew c) near with all possible marks of respect and gratitude, then kneel ed down before him, laid his head on the ground and pla ced his deliverer's foot upon it, as he had done the first time, in short, he made all the antic gestures imaginable to exprefs his thankfulneſs to him for his deliverance. Robinson's heart, which could scarce contain the joy at his having now got this long wished for companion and friend, was ready, to melt within him and to overflow in caresses and tender embraces : but the thought, that for his own security he would be obliged, to keep his new guest, whose character he did not yet know, for some ti mé, in the bounds of respect and subjection, made him accept of his homage, as something due to him, and act the sovereign for some time. He made him therefore under stand by signs and gestures, that he had indeed taken him under his protection, but on condition of the strictest obe dience; that he must therefore consent to do or not to do, whatever he, his Lord and King, should think proper to order or forbid him. In making him sensible of this, he employed the word Catcheek, a name, by which the Ame ricans call their superiors, which he luckily remember'd to have heard once. This word made Friday understand the meaning of his master, more than all the signs with which he accompanied it, and he expressed his satisfaction by repeating the word Catcheek several times with a loud voice, and by prostrating himself again at his feet. Nay, to convince him, that he knew very well, what royal authority was, he took hold of the lance, put it into his master's hands, and placed to draw. the 195 ד the point of it on his breast, probably to indicate, that his master had the power of life and death over him. Hereupon Robinson kindly reached him his hand with the dignity of a monarch as a sign of his royal favour, and order'd him again, to sit down and take his supper with him. Friday obey'd, but in such a manner, that he lay at his feet on the ground, whilst Robinson was sitting on a bank of sods. Look my children, the first kings in the world took their origin in this and the like manner. They were men, who excelled others in wisdom courage and bodily strength. Therefore they came to them and begged their protection against wild beasts, which were anciently more numerous, than at present, and against such people as wrong'd them. In retourn they promised to obey them in every thing and to give them every year something of their flocks and fruit, that they might not be under nécessity of getting their own livelihood, but employ themselves solely with the care of their subjects. This annual gift, which the subjects pro mised to their king, was called a tribute, or annual taxes. Thus arose dy royal authority and the duty of obedience and submission to one man or more, under whose protec- tron we live. į Robinson was now a real king, only that his dominion reached nò further, than over a single subject, some lamas and the parrot. However his majesty was pleased to treat his vassal with as much condescension as his dignity would allow. Frederic. Pray, what is a vassal? > Father. It is the same as a subject, dear Frederic. After supper his majesty was graciously pleased to give his orders for the disposition of the night. He thought it pro per, not to let his subject who was now at the same R 2 time d) to arise, 196 time his first minister of state and bis valet de chambre, his general and his army, his groom of the bed chamber, high steward of his houshold etc. - sleep in his own cave as yet, but in his cellar, because he had some scruples to trust his life and the secret of the passage under ground out of his cave to a novice, whose fidelity he had not yet tried, and of which he could consequently have no proofs. Friday was therefore ordered to carry some hay into the cellar, and to make a bed for himself, whilst his majesty for his greater security carried all the arms into his own bedchamber. Then he was pleased to give an example of condescension and meekneſs in the presence of his whole empire, which is perhaps the only one of its kind. You would be asto- nished at it, and think it incredible, if I could not assure you, that it is in plain words written e) in the annals of our Robinson's reign, and by which it has long since been made known to all the world: Robinson, the monarch the absolute king and governor of the whole island, the sole arbiter of life and death of all his subjects, performed in the presence of Friday the office of a dairy maid, and with his own royal hands milked the lamas in his yard, to shew his first minister, to whom he had resolved to commit this businefs, how to do it for the future! Here the father stopt, to give time for the general laugh ter, which this comical circumstance had occasion'd. After which he continued as follows: Friday did not yet comprehend what his master : • was doing for neither he nor his country men had ever ima gined, that the milk of animals was a nourishing and whole. some food. He had never drunk any milk, and he was there. e) to write. 197 therefore quite charm'd with the agreeable taste of it, when Robinson gave him some. After what they both had suffered this day, they longed for sleep and rest. Robinson therefore order'd his vassal to go to bed; and he did the same. But before he went to rest, he did not forget to offer his prayers to God, for havs ing turned from him the dangers of the day, and for hav; ing sent him a human creature to assist him. SE R 3 SEVENTEENTH EVENING. John. Now I am curious to know, what Robinson will do in company with his Friday! Dick. Oh, now he will be able to perform many things more than before, because he has an assistant! Father. You will ever more perceive, my children, what great advantages man derives from society, and how much reason we have to thank God, for having implanted in us such a strong inclination for conversation and friendship with other men! The first thing Robinson did the next morning with Friday was to go to the place, where the savages had kept f) their victorious feast the day before. In their way thither they passed by the place, where the two savages, whom Ro. binson had slain g), lay enterred. Friday pointed to the place, and gave his master pretty plainly to understand, that he had good mind to dig up the dead bodies, and devour them. Robinson made a dreadful face, expressing indignation and abhorrence, lifted up his lance with threat- euing aspect, and gave him to understand, that he would immediately kill him, if he should offer to eat human flesh again. Friday comprehended his master's threats and sub- mitted obediently to his will, though he could not con. f) to keep. g) to slay, ceive, 199 ceive, what reason could induce him, to deny him such a pleasure, because he had no idea at all, that it was loathsome. Now they arrived at the place, where the fire had been, That was a sight! Here lay several human bones, there several pieces of mangled flesh, half eaten,、 and in several places the ground was stained with blood. Robinson was obliged to turn his eyes from it. He ordered Friday to gather them all in a heap, then dig a hole in the ground and bury the horrid remains of the inhumanity of his coun trymen; and Friday obey'd. Robinson examined the ashes in the mean time, to see, whether he could not find a spark of fire, but in vain! It was entirely extinguished. That was indeed very afflicting for him; for after Heaven had granted him a companion, he had for the present nothing left to wish, but fire. Whilst he stood there quite dejected and considering the dead ashes with melancholy looks, Friday, after having considered him for some time with attention, made him some incomprehen. sible signs, then seizing the hatchet, he ran like lighten ing into the wood, and left Robinson, who, not know. ing his design, was quite petrified at his sudden flight. 1 .. What can be the meaning of this?" thought he to himself, looking earnestly after him. Could the ungrate ful wretch forsake me, and even deprive me of my hatchet? could he be cruel enough, to take possession of my habi• tation and exclude me from it by violence, or even betray me to his inhuman countrymen? abominable! abomi- yable!" he cried, and seized his lance, fired with indig. nation at such an unheard instance of ingratitude, and was going to pursue the traitor, to prevent him from executing his dark design, He had already begun h) his pursuit with hasty steps, R 4 when h) to begin. 300 when he suddenly saw Friday returning in full speed. Robins son stood i), quite stupified, and saw with surprise, that his supposed traitor had his hand full of dried grafs, from which some smoke arose k). Soon after when it took fire, Friday flung ) it to the ground, put more dried grafs and wood upon it, and Robinson in that momenɩ saw with joy. ful surprise a clear fine fire blazing up. Now he at once comprehended Friday's sudden flight; and quite lost m) in joy, he fell on his neck, pressed him heartly, and in his own mind begged a thousand times his pardon for his unti- mely suspicion. Nicholas. But where did Friday get the fire. Father. He ran with his hatchet into the wood, to cut a couple of dry sticks. These he rubbed together with so much quickneſs and addrefs, that they took fire, then he wrapped this burning wood up in a little hay, and with this hay in his hand, he ran away as fast as he could. By this swift motion the hay took fire and began to flame. Friend R. There again I do not like our friend Robinson. John. Why not? Friend R. Because he could harbour such a black suspi cion against him, without having any sufficient proof of his infidelity. Fie! who would be so suspicious! John. Ay, but what he suspected might have been true; and then he was obliged, to be on his guard against him. Friend R. Understand me right, dear John! I don't blame him for thinking it possible, that Friday might be unfaithful to him; neither do I blame him, for running after him, in order to prevent him from doing him any mischief, in case he intended him any for this precaution against such an unknown man was indeed necessary and good. But I blame him, for being so ready to think his : i) to stand. k) to arise. 7) to fling. m) to lose, 6115- suspicion grounded, and for falling into such a passion; as not to suppose, that Friday might still be innocent. No, our diffidence of other people must never go so far, if we have not the surest proofs of their infidelity before us. In doubtful cases we must always suppose the best, but never the worsta Father. A very good maxim! Mind that, my children. Now our Robinson was, as I told you, out of his wits for joy, when he saw when he saw his suspicion vanish his suspicion vanish, and found himself again in possession of fire, which he had so long wished for, and so long wanted. He delighted his eyes a long while by looking upon the burning flames. At last he took a fire-brand, and ran in company with Friday to his habitation. : Here he made directly a clear fire in his kitchen, put some potatoes before it, and flew u) like lightening to his flock, in order to fetch a young lama. This was directly killed, skinned, cut up, and a quarter of it spitted, and Friday was ordered to turn the spit. Whilst Friday was doing his office, Robinson cut off a piece from the breast, washed it and put it into one of his pots. Then he pealed some potatoes, bruised a hand- ful of maize into flour between two stones, put both to the meat into the pot, and poured so much clean water upon it, as he thought necessary. Neither did he forget to shake some salt in it, and then he placed the pot over the fire. Charlotte. I know what he was going to make! — some broth! Father. Very right; he had not eaten any these eight years! You may therefore easily think, how he long- ed for it. Friday stared at all these preparations, because he could R 5 not a to fly. 202 not conceive, to what purpose they were made. He had never heard or seen any thing about cooking; therefore he could by no means gueſs, what the water in the pot was for on the fire. Now whilst Robinson was gone into his cave a few moments, and the water in the pot began to boil, Friday was startled, because he had no idea of what could bring the water in motion all of a sudden? But when it boiled up and began to run over on all sides, he took the foolish whim in his head, that perhaps there might be some living creature in it, which caused this sudden mo. tion; and to prevent this supposed animal from flinging all the water out of the pot, he at once thrust his hand into it, in order to catch it. But in the same instant he set up such a dreadful roar, as to make the rock of the cave echo. Fear and horror seized our poor Robinson, when he heard this terrible outcry, because in the first moment he could expect nothing, but that the savages were come, and had already got hold of his poor Friday. Fear and selflove prompted him to escape thro' his concealed passage under ground, and to save his own life. But he quickly rejected this idea because he justly thought it a basenefs, to aband don his new companion and friend. He therefore sallied forth from his cave without any further hesitation firmly re. solved, to deliver Friday again from the hands of those monsters at the peril of his own body and life. Friend B. So I like you, my friend Robinson! Father. Thus he sallied forth with his hatchet in his hand: but how great was his astonishment, when he saw Friday quite alone; jumping about like a madman, roaring without intermission and making very singular con torsions. He stood a good while quite stupified, not know◄ ing what to think of it, At last they came to an explanation and 203 and he was informed by signs, that the whole mischief consisted in Friday's having burnt his hand a little. · It was not very easy to pacify him. But that you may know, what Robinson could not comprehend till a year afterwards, when Friday could speak with him, why he made such wry faces: I must first tell you, what ignorant, untaught people generally think in their youth, when any thing happens to them, of which they can not conceive the reason. These poor simple folks then generally believe some invi sible being, some spirit, to be the cause of what they can not comprehend; and they think, that a spirit produces such an effect at the command of some man, to whose will it is become servile. Such a man, whom they supe pose to have power over one or more spirits, they call a sorcerer or wizard, and if it is a woman, a sorcerefs or witch. If a horse or a cow, belonging to a poor ignorant coun. try man, fall suddenly ill, and be can not gueſs the cau- se of their sickneſs, he is very apt to suppose there must be some wizard or witch in the village, who has bewitched his horse or his cow, that is, made them fall sick by means of some invisible evil sprit, or demon. Charlotte. Oh yes, Papa, that's what our Nanny said, when our cow became dry all of a sudden. Father. Take care therefore, dear Charlotte; to unde ceive the poor girl, if you can when you assist in the kitchen to morrow. Now when such simple folks are so superstitious, there are generally some cunning, malicious cheats, who take advantage of their ignorance and superstition, in order to get money from them. Such impostors know how to give themselves an important air, confirm the poor people in their error, and persuade them, that the beast is really bewitched; but that but that, at the same time for a certain sum of 204 of money, they are able to cure such an animal by couns tercharms or force the sorcerer or evil spirit to desist. Then these simple folks give them what they demand, and the conjurer (so they call such a cheat) plays all sorts of foo- lish tricks before them. Now if the beast recovers by acci dent, they swear, it has really been bewitched, but coun- tercharmed by the cunning man (which is another name for such deceivers). But if the beast happens to die, the cunning man can assign a thousand reasons, why his charma has proved fruitless. The more stupid men are, the more they are addicted to this fatal superstition. You may therefore easily think, that it is very much in vogue amongst savages. Whatever their simple understanding can not comprehend, they ascribe to the working of evil spirits; and this was the case with our Friday at present. He had never heard nor experienced, that water could be made to boil; he had never felt, what sensation it causes, when one puts one's hand into boiling water: he could therefore by no means comprehend, whence that very painful sensation proceeded, which seized him as soon as his hand touched the boiling water. He therefore firmly be lieved, that there was withcraft in it, and that his master was a sorcerer, Now, my children, you also must expect, that in future times you will meet with something or other, the cause of which you will not be able to discover. You will see jugglers and conjurers, who can do wonderful things, who, for instance, can in appearance change a bird into a mouse, cut a bird's head off and bring it to life again etc.; and with the greatest attention you will not be able to discover the fraud; now if on such occasions you should be tempted, to imagine that this must be done by evil means, that the man must be a wizard! then remember our 205 case, our Friday, and be assured, that you are in the same he was in; and that from ignorance you believe a thing to be supernatural, which nevertheleſs is produced by very natural means. We will occasionally explain some of these tricks to you, to prepare you for such things, and enable you to conclude from them, what others may be. It was not very easy, as I told you before, to quiet poor Friday, and make him sit down again, to turn the spit. However at last he was prevailed on, but he still continued to look at the pot with secret horror, and he now considered his master with fear and respect as some supernatural being. He was strengthened in his opinion by Robinson's white european complexion and long beard, which gave him a quite different appearance from that of Friday's tawny and beardleſs countrymen. Nicholas. Have the savages in America no beard? Father. No, it has been long thought that they were beardleſs by nature; but of late it has been observed, that they have no beard, only because they very carefully pluck out the hairs from their chins, as soon as they appear. upon, Now the broth, potatoes and roast meat, all was ready. As he had no spoons, he poured out some broth in two other pots. But Friday could in no wise be prevailed to taste some, because he thought the broth was some bewitching potion and he shuddered with horror, when he saw Robinson lifting the pot to his mouth and drinking the supposed bewitched broth, whereas he ate a) with great appetite some of the roast meat and potatoes. You can hardly imagine, how delightful it was for Robinson, to eat warm and nourishing victuals. It made him forget all the hardships, he suffered during the former years, spent in misery; it made him forget, that he was still in his island, a) to eat. S he i 205/ he thought himself in another country, nay in the midst of Europe. Providence can thus by the balm of unexpected joy in a single moment heal the wounds of our hearts, that were struck b) for our good, and which, during the sen sation of pain, we think incurable! I think it needlefs to tell you, that Robinson did not forget, to thank the Giver of all good things with love and gratitude, whilst he was enjoying this new gift of his divine bounty. rent, The meal being finished, Robinson placed himself in his musing corner, to make serious reflections on the happy change of his situation. Every thing had now a quite diffe- a much more agreeable appearance. His life was no longer solitary; he had he had now a companion, with whom, it is true, he could not converse as yet, but his bare company afforded him comfort and assistance ; he had again fire and palatable and wholesome provisions in plenty." What can hinder me now, thought he, from living satisfied and at ease? I will therefore enjoy the manifold benefits of Heaven; I will eat and drink the best of my flock and of the fruits of my land (for I have abung dance of every thing), and make myself amends for the hard. ships and want, I suffered these last years, by ease and good cheer! Friday may work for me; he is young and stout, and I merit, that he should be my servant." Here his reflections stopt; for another idea struck him. But how? thought he, if all my present happinefs should at once cease? If Friday should happen to die? If I should again lose my fire?" A cold shivering ran thro' all his limbs at this reflection. , And, thought he, if by a soft and voluptuous life I indulged myself so much, that it were impossible for me to b) to strike. red 207 return to the hardships and misery of my former way of life? And if I were nevertheleſs forced to return to it?" Here he heaved a deep sigh. Then he continued:,, To what am I indebted for hav- ing been disengaged from so many frailties and vices, which I was so much addicted to before? Certainly to that sober and laborious life, I was forced to. And should I now risk losing that health of body and mind, which I have ac▾ quired by frugality and labour? God forbid!" thought he, jumping up from his seat, and walking hastily up and down in his yard. Friday was in the mean time carrying the re- mains of the dinner in the cellar, and went now at Robin. son's command to milk the lamas. : יי In the interim Robinson was thus going on meditating: , And, how long would it be, before I should forget all the hardships I suffered and the paternal assistance, which God has hitherto lent c) me, if 1 were henceforth to lead an easy and voluptuous life? how soon would I become presumptuous, arrogant and even forget God Almighty? That's dreadful! dreadful! he cried and fell on his knees, to pray God to preserve him above all things from such de- testable ingratitude. He remained a few minutes longer quite absorbed in thoughts; then he took the following manly and truly salu tary resolution: I will indeed, thought he, enjoy the new gifts of di- vine bounty, but always with the greatest temperance. The most simple victuals shall be my food, however great and manifold my provisions may be. I will also continue my la bour with as much industry and as uninterruptedly, as I have done hitherto, tho' it be not so necessary. One day every week, and this shall be the saturday, I will live ou Sa on the to lend. 208 the same raw victuals, on which I have hitherto subsisted; and I will spend the last day of every month as solitary, as 1 have been obliged to do all the time I have been here. Then Friday shall stay a whole day and night far from me in my summer- place." 1 After having taken this virtuous resolution, he felt that pure, heavenly joy, with which any endeavour after higher perfection is always attended. His face glow'd, his heart anticipated the happy consequences of this free sacrifice and beat more cheerly, and he found himself unspeakably easy. But now he knew d) the inconstancy of the human heart, and of his own too and consequently he foresaw e) that it was not impossible, but he might again forget all these laudable resolutions. He thought therefore, that it would not be improper, to make some sensible mark, at the sight of which he might be daily reminded of them. With this design he took up his hatchet, and ingraved in the rock over the entrance of his cave these words: Labour and temperance. Now, my children, I give you time till to morrow, to consider this instructive circumstance in the life of our friend, to see if there be not something in it, which you may imitate for your advantage. When we are again assembled, you may then communicate me your thoughts on it, as I intend telling you mine. d) to know. #) to foresee. EIGHT EIGHTEENTH EVENING. The following day the young folks were seen whispering to each other, and there reigned such bustle among them, that it was easily to be perceived, there was something of importance on the carpet. However it was not possible to discover, what it was, till the hour for Robinson's history, had struck ). Then they came running and crowding about the father, in so much that he was obliged to retreat to a grafs, bank, to prevent his being crushed by them. Father. Well, what's the matter, what's the matter? All. One favour! dear Papa! one favour! Father. Well let me hear it! All at once. Oh I should like oh and I oh I should be glad Father. Hush! Nay; I don't understand a single word, if you will all speak together. Let one speak after the other ! Dick, do you begin! Dick. I, Nicholas and John would beg leave, not to eat any dinner to-morrow. Theophilus. I, Frederic and Charlotte would beg to eat nothing but a bit of dry bread for breakfast tomorrow, and no supper. $ Father. And what is your reason for that?- ƒ) to strike. S3 John. 210 John. Nay, we would learn to be master of ourselves. Nicholas. And we wish to accustom ourselves to bear a little hunger, that it might not seem hard to us, in case we should ever be forced to do it. Theophilus. Ay, and then we would beg Papa to give us leave, not to go to bed to-morrow, but sit up the whole night. Father. I am glad, my children, that you perceive the necessity of denying to yourselves sometimes of your own accord what is agreeable to you, that you may learn to bear the want of it in case of need. That strengthens the body and mind at the same time. I therefore grant your re quest, but but on on condition, that you do it willingly and gladly, and tell me freely, in case it should be too hard for you. All. Oh, it will certainly not be too hard for us! Friend R. I'll follow your example, you little ones, and fast with you to morrow night. Friend B. And I'll follow your example, Dick, Nicholas and John; we will fast together at dinner time, and I'll watch with you all. Father. Bravo! Bravo! Now, should I alone be be hind on the road to perfection? Hear, what I have res solved to do!. You know, I have been greatly spoiled in my youth. I had coffee and tea beer and wine to drink, When I was a youth I had the folly to accustom myself to take snuff and to smoke. All these things greatly debilitate the body and create so many necessaries and render us uneasy every mo ment, when we can not have them. I have often the head. ache, which I should probably not have, if I had not been accustom'd to strong and hot liquors from my youth. This and the example of our Robinson have made me resolve, to give them all up from this very moment. From this day there. 211 he therefore I'll neither smoke nor take any snuff; from this day forward I'll drink no more tea nor coffee, no beer nor then we wine, except on birth-days and other festivals will all drink a little wine and rejoice in that gift of God and offer our thanks for it to the Giver of all things. People (*) will make many objections against this. One will say: „, the man is will copy (§) Diogenes;" another will say: hypochondriac, he finds pleasure in tormenting himself!" That's what people will say; but my dear children, if we will do any thing, that is right and good before God and in our own conscience, we must never ask: what will the world say to it? we must rather let the world say what they please, and do what we think right. Even physicians will shake their heads at me and prophesy me, God knows what distempers, because I am resolved to be no longer sick in body and mind; but, my children, if we have courage enough to return to the path of Nature, we must never con sult physicians, who themselves have deviated from it. I thought proper to tell you all this before-hand, that you might learn by an example, that we can do much, if we will, and that no ill habit is so strong, which, with the assistance of God, we should not be able to conquer, if We earnestly set about it. - Now, my children, these exercises of abstinence and self-denial, which we have resolved upon, will be suffi« cient to begin with. After we have happily conquered these every following task will be the easier. Thus every one will do, what he has freely resolved upon; and now again to our Robinson. S 4 His (*) And will that do? said some people and shook their heads when they heard of this resolution. It will certainly do, answered the father; and experience has shewn, he was right, because the family gained health and strength in proportion as they returned to a natural and simple way of living. > (§) Diogenes was a man who denied himself every thing, which was not absolutely necessary for the support of life. 212 His situation is now better, than it has ever been since his being 'cast away on this island. The only thing, that made him now very uneasy, was the apprehension, lest the savages should return to look for their companions, that had not returned with them; and that it would then most probably come to a very bloody action between him and them. He trembled at the thought of being forced to shed human blood, and his own uncertain fate made him no lefs uneasy. 1 In these circumstances the duty of self-preservation forced him to provide for his own safety as well as possible. He had long since wished to have proper fortifications about his castle; but the execution of this plan seemed impossible for him as long as he was alone. But now, as he had an as- sistant, he thought he might undertake such a thing. He therefore ascended the top of the hill, from whence he could oversee the whole place, in order to make a plan which was soon ready. He needed only make a pretty bread and deep ditch on the outside of the wall of trees, which inclosed his castle, and fix palisades on the inside of it. Frederic. Pray, what are palisades? John. Have you forgot that again! Don't you remember the pointed posts, which Papa put close together about one of the ravelins of our little fortrefs. Why, those are palisades. Frederic. Oh yes! Let's go on. Father. Into this ditch he intended to lead the spring; that arose g) at a small distance from his dwelling, so that part of the brook should flow thro' the middle of his yard, that he might not be in want of water in case of a regular siege. It was difficult, to make Friday comprehend all this by signs. g) to arise. 213 signs. However he succeeded at last; and Friday ran di- rectly to the sea-shore, to look for all kinds of tools to dig and shovel with, I mean large muscle shells and flat sharp stones. Upon which they both fell a working. You may easily imagine, that this was not a very easy task. They were obliged to make this ditch at least six foot deep, and eight foot broad, if it was to be of any use. The length of it might be from eighty to a hundred steps. And as he had no iron instrument, no pick axe, no spade, pick-axe, no shovel, consider what a laborious task it must be! They wanted almost four hundred palisades; and these must all be cut, squared and pointed with one stone - hatchet: they were also obliged to dig a cannal almost as deep from the spring to the ditch, to lead the water thro'; and there was moreover between this spring and his dwelling, an eminence which they were obliged to cut through. But all these difficulties did not discourage our resolute friend. His moderate and active life had made his courage in every important undertaking much greater, than it is ge- nerally found with men grown up in softneſs, idleness and plenty. With God and good courage! was the mot to, with which he began every important undertaking; and then we know, he did not desist till he had gained his end. A It was the same now. Both he and Friday worked, from early in the morning till late at night, with such vigour and earnestnefs, that it is surprising, how much the work ad vanced every day, notwithstanding their wretched tools. Luckily the wind blew h) from such a quarter during two mouths, that is was impossible for the savages to visit Ro binson's island. Consequently they needed not fear being surprised by them. Whilst Robinson was thus busy, he was endeavouring to S 5 teach h) to blow. 214 teach his companion so much of the German tongue, as to make him understand what he spoke i) to him; and Friday was so desirous of learning, that he could in a short time comprehend a great deal of it. In this Robinson did just as we do with you, when we teach you Latin or French; as often as he could he shewed bim the object, he spoke of, and then pronounced the name of it aloud and dis- tinctly. But when he spoke of things, which he could not shew him, he made such expressive looks and gestures, that Friday could not but understand him. Thus in less than six months, he had learned so much German, that they could tolerably well communicate their thoughts to each other. A fresh encrease of happineſs for our Robinson! Hitherto Friday had been but a dumb companion to him, but now he was enabled to be his real companion and his friend. Oh, how insignificant was now the trivial pleasure, which the senseless chattering of the parrot had given him, when com- pared to this! Friday still shew'd himself more and more as a good-na tured, faithful young man, in whom there was no guile; and seemed to have the sincerest affection for his master. For which reason his master became k) every day fonder of him, and sometime after he did not scruple, to let him sleep along side of him in his own cave. In lefs than two months their ditch was ready, and now they might very quietly expect every attack of the savages For before any one of them could get over the ditch and mount over the palisades, it was easy for them to kill him with their arrows or with their long lances. They had there fore pretty well provided for their security. One day, when Robinson and Friday were on a rising ground near the shore, from whence they had a free pros- pect to speak. k) to become. 215 ŕ pect of the sea, Friday stood looking towards the place, where they could but dimly discover some islands at a great distance. All of a sudden he began to hop and caper for joy and made all sorts of gestures. On Robinson's asking him: what was the matter? he cried out joyfully, still continuing to hop about: cheer up! cheer up! yonder is my country! there is my nation! From his glowing face and sparkling eyes, with which he accompanied these ex- clamations, there appeared an excessive love for his coun- try and a desire of returning to it. His master was not at all pleased, when he cbserved this; tho' it was very praise- worthy in Friday to love his own country more, than any other, and the friends and relations he left there more, than all other people. Robinson, who had reason to ap prehend, that he might one time or other leave him for the sake of his country men, endeavour'd to sound him, He therefore began the following conversation with him, which will make you still better acquainted with honest Friday. Robinson. Would you then wish to live among your couna trymen again? Friday. Oh yes! I should be glad, to see them again. Robinson. You would then perhaps eat man's flesh with them again. Friday. With a serious countenance). No, I would teach them, not to be savage any more, and to eat the flesh of animals and milk, but no human flesh. Robinson. But, suppose they should eat you? Friday. No, they will never do so! Robinson. Why, but they do eat human flesht Friday. Yes, but only the flesh of the enemies they have slain k). *) to slay. Ros 216 Robinson. Could you make a boat, pray, to go over in? Friday. Oh yes! Robinson. Well, then you may make one and go over to them. (At these words Friday looked at once serious and cast down his eyes). Robinson. Well, what is the matter? what makes you look so sorrowful? Friday. It grieves me, It grieves me, that my dear master is angry with me. Robinson. Angry? how so? Friday. Nay, because he will send me away. Robinson. Why, did not you wish just now to return to your own country? Friday. Ay, but if my master it not there, Friday does not wish to be there neither. Robinson. Your narration would think me their enemy and eat me; so that you must go by yourself. At these words Friday snatched the hatchet from his masa ter's side, put it into his hand and held out his head for him to cleave it. Robinson. What do you want? 93 Friday. Kill me, better kill me, than send me away! At which words the tears gushed into his eyes. This af fected Robinson, who fell into his arms and said: Be unconcerned, my dear Friday! Neither do I ever wish to part with you: for I love you sincerely. What I said, was only to try, whether you loved me as much as I do you." Upon which he embraced him again and wiped away a tear of joy, that trickled down his cheeks. Robinson was extremely rejoiced at hearing of Friday's be ing able to make a boat. He took him therefore by the band and led 1) him to the place, where he had been 7) to lead. work. 217 working during some years, in order to make one. Here he shew'd him the tree, the third part of which was not yet scooped out, and told him, how much time he had already spent in that work. Friday shook m) his head and smiled. On Robinson's asking, what objections he had against it? He replied that all that work was unnecessary, that such a tree could be hollow'd out much better and faster with fire. Who could be more rejoiced at this news, than Robinson! The boat was already finish'd in his fancy; he thougt himself at sea, and after a prosperous voyage, was landing in some part of the continent, where he found Europeans! How his heart beat for joy at the idea of so near a deliverance! It was re- solved to begin the work at day-break the following morning. Theophilus. Now our joy will soon have an end! Father. Why so? Theophilus. When he has a boat, he will soon sail away; and when he is returned to Europe, Papa can tell us no more of him. Father. And would not you gladly give up this pleasure, if at this rate you could procure poor Robinson's deliverance? Theophilus. Oh yes, that's true! I did not think of that. Father: However, who knows what obstacles may oc cur that can defer finishing the boat and hinder their depar ture? The future is uncertain and variable, and generally proves quite different from what we expected. We are not seldom disappointed in our hopes, tho' they seem ever so sure; and it is therefore very wisely done, to be prepared for the worst. Robinson, who had often experienced this, went home in company with Friday, piously resolved to leave the accomplishment of his ardent wish to the all- wise and most bountiful Providence, who knew much better than himself, what was most expedient for him. m) to shake. T NINE. NINETEENTH EVENING. During the assentblage of the company the next evening, they had already in part begun those exercises of abstinen ce, that had been resolved upon. They were all merry and in very good humour, whilst the father began his tale as follows: Well, my dear children, how are you pleased with Easting? All. Oh, very well! very well. Father. You see, I am myself alive too, though I had Nothing to day but water and milk. Nicholas. If that be all, I think I could fast still longer! All. So could I! And I too! Why, that's nothing at all! A Father. There is no occasion for fasting any longer; it might also prove pernicious to your healths: but if you de. sire it, I'll propose some other exercises, that will be equally useful. All. Ob, yes, yes, dear Papa! Father. Eevery one of us has done n) enough for to day, especially as we are to sit up the whole night. But, if you really have a mind to become very good men, sound and strong in body and mind, and consequently able to con- ") to do. tri 219 tribute much, very much to the happineſs of your fellow. creatures: hear, what I propose to do! I'll read the works of ancient sages to you, who were the teachers of those great and excellent men, whom you so much esteem, when I was relating the ancient history. These works contain the precepts, which those wise men gave to their disciples, and by the accomplishment of which their scholars became so great men. Every week I will write one of those precepts on a table covered with paper, and explain it to you. Then I'll tell you at the same time, what exercises you are to perform during that week, in order to convert the accomplishment of such a precept into an easy and agreeable habit. But this indeed can not be done with. out renouncing a great many agreeable things, and without freely resolving to give up some favourite amusement, nay even sometimes to suffer something very disagreeable, in order to acquire by degrees that strength of mind, which enables us, to withstand every unwarrantable desire and to suffer every loſs and want with wisdom and equanimity. We grown people will indeed show you the example in these exercises, and require nothing of you, but what we our. ■elves have courage enough to accomplish. Do you consent to this proposal? They all agreed to it with a loud affirmation, and joyfully clapping with their hands. A school of wisdom was there. fore erected among them from that very moment, which was particularly different from other shools, that every week one lesson only was given of half an hour which served for a whole week's earnest exercise. We may perhaps some time or other communicate these exercises and their happy consequences to our young readers, to teach them the means of becoming very good, useful and happy men *). T 2 Af *) Something to serve as a proof of the happy consequence. - Most 220 After the above mention'd agreement was made, the father continued as follows. What I said last night at the conclusion of my narration, to be possible, has really happened. All. What was it, pray? what pray? 7. Father. I observed that, in human life, in human life, we are often suddenly disappointed in our surest hopes; and that there. fore Rebinson, however probable and near his deliverance seemed to be, might meet with some unforeseen obstacle, that would force him to remain longer there. This obstacle appeared the very next day. The rainy season began that very day, which Robinson from experience knew to be twice a year, that is when day and night are equally long, or at the equinox as it is called. During this During this rainy season, which generally lasted one or two mouths, it was impossible to do any work with. out doors; so hard and incessant was the rain at such ti- mes! Robinson had also observed, that going out and get- ting wet at this season, was extremely pernicious to his health. of the children, that are introduced speaking in this book, had bad teeth, because their drink in their infancy had been chiefly sweet and warm, and they had been used to eat many sorts of dainties. It was thought necessary, to have their bad teeth drawn. The father there- fore called them together and said: ,, My children, we think it ne- cessary, to have your hollow and rotten teeth drawn, in order to save you from future pain. It is indeed painful! But cheer up your minds, it gives you an excellent opportunity of exercising your cou- rage and patience, and of preparing you to bear pain like men for the future. But this exercise must again be voluntary and without con- straint, or else it is without use. Whoever will therefore undergo it freely, let him say yes." They all cried: yes, yes, yes, with a cheerful countenance, and vied with each other who should be the first; then they placed themselves by turns before the dentist with undaunted courage, and I say no more than what is true - the first had three, the second four, the third five teeth drawn, most of which were large double teeth with long fangs, without the least cry; nay, most of them were constantly laughing. The dentist was astonished, and declar'd, that he had never seen any grown person, not any man, who had shewn such extraordinary courage and the father dropt the most grateful tear of joy, which had ever ran down his cheek. " 221 health. What was he therefore to do now? He could not continue his ship building, and was obliged to paſs his time in domestic occupations. It was now very agreeable to our Robinson during this rainy season and the long dark evenings, to have a compa nion, a friend, with whom he could paſs his time in fa miliar discourses during their domestic occupations ! Fors merly he was obliged to paſs these dismal evenings alone in idlenefs and in the dark, whereas he now sat o) with Fri. day by a lamp and near the kitchen fire, worked and talk- ed, and never felt the trouble of tediousness, which is so oppressing. → Friday taught p) him several little arts, by which the sai vages make their situation tolerable; and Robinson in his turn taught him other things, which the savages have no idea of. Thus both encreased in knowledge and dexterity and by their mutual industry they made a number of little works of art, which, had every one been alone, would bave been impossible for either. Now they both felt, how good it is for mankind to be held g) together by sociable. nefs and friendship, and not to be roaming about the world single, like brutes. { Among other things Friday understood the art of making bafs - mats ด which he made so close, that they served them to make clothes of, Robinson learned it of him; and then they both made a stock sufficient for cloathing them both How did Robinson rejoice, that he could now do with out those troublesome clothes made of raw hides! Friday moreover understood the art of making ropes of the filaments, which inclose the cocoa-nuts and of several kinds of flaxy herbs, which were far superior to those which Robinson had hitherto made. He could make fishing-- T 3 ◊) to sit. p) to teach. g) to hold. nets 222 was, nets of thread in a particular manner; an occupation, in which both spent many a long evening very agreeably. During these domestic occupations Robinson's chief aim to clear up the understanding of his poor savage friend, and by degrees to implant some just and worthy ideas of God into his mind. How weak and erroneous Friday's knowledge of religion was, you will easily perceive from the following dialogue between him and his master. Robinson. Can you tell me, Friday, who has made the sea, the earth, the animals and yourself? Friday. Oh yes! Toupan made them. Robinson. And who is Toupan? Friday. Why, the thunderer! Robinson. But pray, who is the thunderer? Friday. An old man, a very old man, who lived a great way beyond all, and who makes the thunder. He is much older than the Sun, Moon and Stars; and all creatures say O to him. (By which he meant: all creatu res adore or worship him), Robinson. Whither do they die? your countrymen go, when Friday. They go to Toupan. Robinson. Where does he live then? Friday. He dwells on high mountains. Robinson. Has any body ever seen him there? ! Friday. Nobody ever gets up to him, but the Owoka. kee's (by which he meant r) priests), who say O to him, and then they tell us again, Robinson. Are then the their death? what he has said. people happy with him after Friday. Oh yes, if they have killed and eaten a great many enemies. +) to mean. Ro. 223 Robinson startled at his deplorable error, and began di rectly to instill into him juster ideas of God and of the life to come. He taught him, that God is an invisible, most powerful, most wise and most bountiful being; that he bas created every thing, that exists, and provides for every thing, but that he himself never had any beginning; that he is present every where, and knows all we think, speak and do; that he finds pleasure in whatever is good, and abbors whatever is bad, that he can therefore only make. those happy in this and our future state, who have with all their hearts endeavour'd to become good. as his Friday hearken'd to these sublime and comfortable instruc- tions with respectful attention, and they made a deep im pression on his heart. He still desired to know more of them, and Robinson being as eager to teach him, as he was to learn, he in a short time conceived the principal truths of religion as distinctly and with as much conviction, instructor was capable to explain them to him. From this time he esteem'd himself infinitely happy, in having been transported from his own country to this island, nay he even observed, that God's intention was infinitely bountiful with respect to him, when he suffer'd him to fall into the hands of his enemies, because otherwise he would probably never have made Robinson's acquaintance.,, And then," ad- ded he,„, I should never have got any knowledge of this bountiful God!" From this period forward Robinson always said his prayers in Friday's presence; and it was an affecting sight, to with what joyful devotion he follow'd his example. And now they both lived as satisfied and happy, as two men separated from the rest of mankind can possibly do. see, Thus the rainy season passed without appearing heavy to them. The sky already began to clear up; the storms were hushed, and the heavy rain clouds were dispersed. Ro > T 4 bin- 2:24 binson and his faithful companion now again breathed the mild and temperate air of the spring; they both felt them• selves strengthen'd, and therefore went with great cheerful. nefs to the important work, they had resolved upon before the rainy season. • Friday, as Master in the art of ship building, began to hollow out the trunk of the tree with fire. This went 80 fast and so well, that Robinson could not forbear calling bimself a dunce, because he had not thought of that method. But, added he to his comfort, suppose, I had thought of it, yet I could not have done it for want of fire! I hope, you will spare me the trouble of giving you a circumstantial account, how their work advanced every day, because such a relation would be neither entertaining nor instructive. I shall therefore only tell you, that the boat, which Robinson alone would perhaps never have ended, at least not in many years, was now by their united strength finish'd within two months. They only wanted a sail and oars. Friday undertook to make the former, and Robin. son the latter. Theophilus. But how could he make a sail? could he make one without linen? Father. It is true; he did not understand to make li. nen, neither had he a loom for it: but he could, as I have already told you, make fine mats of the bark of trees, and these the savages use as sail-cloth, They both finished their work nearly at the same time, Robinson his oars, and Friday his sails; and now they bad nothing more to do, to do, than to launch the vessel they had made. Frederic. What's the meaning of that? Father. Did you never see, when they let a new- built ship run from the banks of the Elb, where it was built, into the water? Fro 225 Frederic. Oh yes! I did. Father. Well, then you have seen, that the ship stands on a frame made of beams. These are called the stocks. Now as soon as the wedge, which holds the ship, is re- moved, it runs along a beam into the water, and this is called launching a ship. The place, where they had built s) their boat, was unfortunately for them some thous sand paces from the shore, and now the question was : how they should get it thither? To carry it, to shove it, or to roll it, seem'd impossible; for it was much too heavy. What were they therefore to do now? This was a fresh difficulty for them? Dick. Why, Robinson needed only make such levers again, as he lately used, to roll the two large stones out of his cave, when he had no body to assist him! Father. He had not forgot the advantage, which this simple instrument affords; he therefore made use of it upon the occasion; but this method of moving that boat was 80 tedious, that he foresaw t), it would employ them a whole mouth at least. He luckily at last recollected such an other simple instrument, which carpenters and other mechanicks generally use in Europe to remove heavy burthens, 1 meau rollers Frederic. What are tollers? Father. Long round pieces of wood, that easily roll along, because they are round. These are placed under the loads that are to be removed, which if pushed forward but with moderate strength, run along of themselves on these rollers. Robinson had scarce made the trial, when he perceived, how easily and quickly they could move their boat forward! T 5 to build.) to foresee. In 226 In two days they got it into the water, and it was ne small joy for them both to see, that it answer'd their exs pectation perfectly. Now they had nothing more to do, than to make the necessary preparations for their departure, that is to pro vide themselves with as many provisions, as their boat could carry, and then to begin their wish'd for voyage. But where should they now go to? Friday wished to go to his native island; Robinson on the contrary desired to sail to the continent of America, where he hoped to meet with Span- iards or other Europeans. Friday's country was only about four german miles off, and the continent from twelve to fifteen miles. If they first sailed to the former, they went Bome miles further from the latter, and the danger of the voyage was consequently encreased. On the other hand Fri- 'day only knew the way to his own country; whereas the way to the continent was entirely unknown to him. Robin◄ son knew still lefs about the matter, having never been in those seas before. Thus they were again involved in fresh difficulties. At last Robinson's desire of returning among civilised peo ple got the better of all his companion's difficulties and ob- jections. It was resolved to make all the necessary prepara tions for their departure the very next morning, and to sail with the first favourable wind to where, according to Fris 'day's supposition, the next coast of the continent was situated. And let this be enough for to day; it is time to prepare ourselves for our intended watch. Upon which they assembled in a watch-room, where the mother had several kinds of domestic occupations in readiness for those, who were to watch, that they might amuse themselves during the night. Two of them were pla ced 227 ced as centinels in the remotest corners of the garden, but separately, and after the expiration of a quarter of an hour they were again relieved with fife and drum, by two others who took their posts. Every hour they were refreshed with some fruit. It was a glorious night. The half moon appeared on one side of the sky, and on the other a distant dark cloud, from which lightnings darted without intermission; the air was so warm, and all nature so quiet, that they all consi fessed the next morning, that they had never past a day; much lefs a night with greater pleasure, than this. TWEN. TWENTIETH EVENING. Father. Now my children, Robinson and Friday have pack'd up their alls, and the wind is favourable. Prepare therefore, to bid them farewell for ever: for who knows, whether we shall ever hear or see any thing of them again! All. Surprised and sorry). Oh! Father. So it is in the world! we can not always remain with our friends; the pain of separation is unavoidable; we must therefore reconcile ourselves to it before hand. When Robinson had left his castle, he stopt u) on the hill above it in a pensive posture and bade his companion. walk along before him. Then he revolved in his mind all the past sufferings of his solitary life in this place; and the wonderful guidance of heaven, which had hitherto directed. him, moved his inmost heart. A flood of grateful tears of joy bedewed his cheeks. Then putting up his open arms to heaven, he addressed the Almighty with fervent devotion Oh, thou my dear, dear heavenly Father, how am I to thank thee for all thou hast hitherto done for me? Be- hold (falling on his knees) here I lie in the dust before thy allseeing eyes, unable to exprefs my ardent feelings in words! But thou seest this heart, thou seest inexpressible sentiments of gratitude, with which it is entirely filled. This heart; which loves thee above all things, which thou hast so often 7) to stop. amends 229 amended, this heart, that has been so often wounded by affliction, and so often healed by thy goodneſs, is all I can give thee in return, my bountiful Father, for all thy innumerable benefits. Accept of it, my Father, oh, take it entirely, and accomplish the work of my amendment which thou hast begun! Behold, I cast myself again into thy paternal arms! Do with me according to thy will. Од ly let me never again forsake the path of virtue, to which thy mercy has brought a) me back. Only preserve me from that, my Father, only preserve me from that! For the rest, let my fate be, whatever they divine wisdom has de creed. I go, wherever thou wilt lead me; I go with cou rage, confiding in thee, to meet every new danger, that may await me. Be thou with me with thy invisible presene ce; watch over my immortal soul, and strengthen it in every temptation of despondency, impatience, and ingratis tude, which I may chance to fall into towards thee, oh, thou eternal heavenly love, iny Creator, my Father my God! God! God! ? Now his feelings became so violent, that he was unable to continue any regular series of thoughts. He flung b) him- self with his face on the ground, to give a free vent to his tears. Thus strengthen'd by divine comfort he got up again, and once more survey'd that country, which was now so dear to him, and which he was now to leave. His feelings were the same as those of a man, who is to leave his native country, and who has no hopes left of ever seeing it again. His eyes filled with tears were with affliction and fondneſs fixed on every tree, in the shade of which he fore merly used to solace himself, on every work of his hands, which he had made by the sweat of his brow. These ob jects caused him the same feelings U ! as if he had been obliged a) to bring. b) to fling. 250 And at last when he per- foot of the hill, he was obliged to leave so many friends. ceived his lamas grazing at the obliged, to turn away his face, in order to keep to the resolution, he had taken to depart. open arms, At last the struggle was over. He took courage, and with as if he would embrace the whole country and all the objects in it, he cried aloud: farewell, ye witnes ses of my past sufferings! fare ye well! which last word was lost in loud groans. Now he once more lifted up his eyes to heaven, and set out with resolution on his way to the shore. As he went along he perceived his faithful Poll flying be. sides him from tree to tree. He could not withstand the de sire of taking the bird along with him; he therefore stretch- ed out his hand, crying: Poll: Poll! and the poor thing hopt down on its master's hand, from whence it ran ou his shoulder, where it remained. Thus Robinson join'd Friday, who waited for him with impatience, and they both went into the boat. It was on the thirtieth day of November about eight oʻ clock in the morning, in the ninth year of his solitary island, when our friend went to sea, the wind blowing fresh and favourable. They had not sail'd far, when they came to a chain of rocks, Charlotte. Oh! tell us first, what is a chain of rocks. Father. Seamen thus call a row of rocks connected to gether, which are either hidden c) under water or seen here and there above the surface. This chain of rocks ran from one promontory of the island above two german miles into the sea. To get over them seemed dangerous to both; they therefore shifted their sail to give their boat another direction and thereby to avoid this chain of rocks. c) to hide. Ni- 231 Nicholas. But how could they know, how far these rocks went into the sea, as they were covered with water? Father. That they could see by the breaking of the waves, which rise higher in such places, where there are any rocks hid, and foam, because they are stopt and broken d) by the rocks underneath. They had scarce attained the end of this chain of rocks; when their boat was suddenly born e) away, as if they had had twenty sails up in the most violent storm. They were both terrified and made haste to furl their sail, supposing it to be the effect of a sudden blast. But to no purpose; the boat ran with as great rapidity as before: and now they perceived with terror, that they were in the midst of a strong current. Frederic. Tell us, what is a current? Father. The bottom of the sea is as uneven as the sur face of the continent, and there are mountains, hills and val- lies, as well as upon land; this makes the waters run with great rapidity towards the lower parts, which forms large rivers in the midst of the sea, as large as our Elbe. Those currents are generally very rapid, and very dangerous for ressels, especially for small ones, if they happen to fall into them; because they hardly get out of them again, so that they are often carried fifty miles or more out into the sea. Theophilus. Oh, poor Robinson, what will be your fate now? Charlotte. Why did he not stay in his island! I thought some inischief would befall him again. Father. This time it was not forwardneſs or levity that impelled him to this voyage. On the contrary his motives were the most reasonable. Thus all what now befell f) him, he might look upon as sent by God, and he was now quite resign'd. d) to break. ) to bear. f) to befall, U 2 The 232 They both now exerted all their strength with their oars in order to get the boat out of the current; but in vain! An irresistible force carried then away with the swiftneſs of an arrow, and now they saw nothing more of their island, except the hills. Their destruction seemed now inevitable; for in leſs than half an hour the tops of the highest moun tains would be likewise out of sight; and let the violence of the current sooner or later subside, it would then be impossible for them to find their way back again to the is land, because they had no compaſs. Frederic. No -- ? Father. No compafs, I say. Nicholas, who is to be captain of a ship, will tell you what that is. Nicholas. (Laughing). If I knew but all a good sailor should know, as well as that! a compaſs, Frederic, is a magnetic needle in a little round box- Frederic. Ay, but what is a magnetic needle? Nicholas. That is a needle made of steel, which has been rubbed on a certain stone a certain stone, called a loadstone or a magnet, by which it acquires a wonderful quality, to wit that way - tog that it always points towards the North wards Wandsbeck, By this compaſs the marines steer their even when they see nothing but sky and water; else they would soon lose themselves on the great ocean and not know, to what part of the world they were sailing. Father. Do you understand that, Frederic? course, Frederic. Yes! I do, now please to go on! Father. As Robinson had not such a compaſs, it would be impossible for him to find his way back again, as soon as he had entirely lost sight of the island. And how terrible >must bis situation then be? To be tossed about on the wide ocean in a small unsafe boat, and to have provisi can there be a situation more ons only for a few days dreadful? But 233 But here we may plainly perceive, what a valuable and great treasure true piety and good conscience are in need and danger! If Robinson did not possels them, how could he have born g) the oppressing burthen of this new dis. trefs? He would have fallen into despair and made an end of his pitiful life to avoid perishing with hunger in a slow and dreadful manner. ed, His companion, whose piety was not yet so well ground- nor fortified by so many and long sufferings, as his naster's, was very near despairing. Unable to work any longer, and quite dejected he flung down his oar, and with a piteous aspect asked his master, whether it would not be best for them to jump over board, in order to avoid all the misery, that awaited them, by a speady death? Upon which Robinson first talked to him with milduefs, and endeavour'd to encourage him; then he reproved him in a friendly tone for his want of trust in the all directing divine providence, and reminded him of what he had taught him upon this subject.,, Are we then," added he, „only in God Almighty's hand, when we are upon land do you think?, Is not He likewise the Lord of the ocean, and cannot he if he please compel those furious waves to carry us again to some place of safety? Or do you think, you can escapa his power by throwing yourself into the sea? Know, in eonsiderate young man, that your immortal soul will be for ever a subject in the immense empire of God, and that it can not possibly be happy, if it leaves this life as a reg bel against God, and does not wait, till it be called by its Creator!" Friday was sensible of the truth of this remonstrance and ashamed of his despondency. On Robinson's exhortations, he took up is oar again, and both continued to work with U a vi❤ g) to bear. 234 1 gour, though they had not the least hopes, that it would be to any purpose. This, said Robinson, is our duty. As long as there is a spark of life remaining in us, we must do our utmost to preserve it. Then we can die, if it must be so, with the comfortable consciousness, that it was the will of God. And his will, dear Friday, continued he, raising his voice, and with undaunted courage sparkling in his eyes, his will is always good, always good and wise, tho' we shortsighted mortals can not conceive it! In the mean time the rapidity of the current continued carrying the boat along with it. Now they could see nothing of the distant island, but the tops of some mountains, and at length only the summit of a single one, the highest in the island, so that they now lost all possible hopes of save ing themselves! Whilst and left But when, all human assistance vanished, when the cala mity of the unfortunate is at the highest pitch, and no means of escaping seem left any where; then, my children, the hand of all ruling divine providence appears most visi. bly, to interpose, and to save us by such means as we could in no wise foresee. This was the case now. Robinson himself had given up all hopes of life, off rowing, being quite exhausted with fatigue, he sudden. ly perceived, that the rapid motion of the boat began to abate. He looked into the water, and found it leſs trou bled, than it had been before. And looking a second time on the surface of the water, he was convinced, that the current was here divided, and that the largest arm of it ran to the North, whilst the other, which was lefs rapid, and on which their boat was now floating, turned towards the South. With unspeakable joy he now cried to his companion; who was almost dead: Cheer up, Friday! God Almighty will have us preserved!" Then he shew'd him the visible "" foun. 235 foundation of his hope; and shouting for joy, they both took up their oars again, which they had just before dropt being quite spent h) with fatigue. Encouraged by the un- expected hopes of life they labour'd with unspeakable vigour against the stream, and perceived with infinite satisfaction, that their endeavours were not without succefs. Robinson, who from a long series of misfortunes was accustom❜d to fix his attention on every particular, observed that the wind would also be advantageous to them: he therefore imme• diately unfurled his sail, which the wind presently filled, and as they both used all their efforts with their oars, they had in a short time the inexpressible joy, to see themselves freed from the current and on the smooth surface of the sea. Friday wept aloud for jog, jump'd up, and was going to embrace his master, who desired him to moderate his joy for the present, because they had a tough piece of work to go thro' yet, before they could think themselves entirely out of danger; in fact they had been carried so far out at sea, that they could see nothing of the island, cept some little black spots on the horizon. Frederic. Horizon? what's that? ex- Father. When you are without in the open field, does not it appear to you, as if the sky round about you reach'd the ground, like a large vault ? Frederic. Yes! Father. Now that circle, where the earth seems to have an end, and the sky to begin, is called the horizon. You will hear more about it in a short time, Our chearful navigators rowed with so much spirit, and the wind blew k) so favorably for them towards the eastside of the island, to which they were sailing, that they could in a short time see the mountains again, Cheer up! cried U 4 h) to spend. ;) to weep. k) to blow. N Ro• 236 Robinson to his companion, who was sitting in the fores part of the boat, with his back to the island; cheer up, Friday; our misery is drawing to an end!" He had scarce pronounced these words, when the boat got such a violent shock, that they fell headlong from their seats. In the same moment the boat was stopt whilst the waves were rushing into it. Mother. Nay, my children, however willling I am to give up my supper, as well as you, if we could save our friend by it yet it is now time to get up. Supper waits ; Jenny has already called us twice, All. Oh TWEN. TWENTY FIRST EVENING. (Some of the children speaking at once). Oh, make haste, dear Papa, that we many learn, what has befallen poor Robinson! Father. Just when he thought himself in safety, be met with a new misfortune, as you have already heard, and which was likely to have proved more fatal, than that which they had just before escaped. The boat stuck 7) fast all at and the waves began to rush into it. Now if the boat had been stopt by some pointed rock, they were in all probability lost. once, Robinson immediately began sounding the ground with his bar, and finding it firm round about the boat, and not above half a yard deep, he did not hesitate a moment, but jumped into the sea. Friday follow'd his example, and they both found that they were only on a sand-bank and not on a rock. They now used all their strength, to get the boat off into the deep water. They succeeded; and when it was afloat they both jumped in again. Charlotte. Now poor Robinson will surely catch cold 1s he has got wet feet. Father. When people are so harden'd by an active and 7) to stick, U 5 na▼ 238 natural way of living, as Robinson was, they do not catch cold by such trifles. So do not be uneasy about that! John. Why, we ourselves do not so easily catch cold how often have not we had wet feet last winter? Father. A proof, harden'd you a little. that our manner of living has already After having thrown the water out of the boat as well as they could with their oars and hands, they resolved, to be more careful and to take in their sail, that they might be the more able to govern their boat. Thus they rowed along the sandbank, in hopes, of coming soon to the end of it. But they were obliged to row four long hours, bes fore they could see their hopes accomplished: for this sand bank ran so far from the North to the South. Robinson perceived that it reached to the very place, where he had suffer'd ship wreck nine years ago, and that it was con sequently the same, on which his ship had stranded at that time, Frederic. What is stranded, pray? to Theophilus. Oh, why do you always interrupt Papa? Father. Why, it is laudable in him to desire to be in structed! But you are wrong, wrong, my dear Theophilus, blame him for it! Beware of that for the future! strand, dear Frederic, is when a vessel runs on such a pand-bank or upon a rock, and can not get off again. Frederic. Thank you, dear Papa! To Father. At last they disengaged themselves from the sand- bank, and rowed with all their might towards the island which they could now see very plainly. At last they reached the shore, when the sun shot m) his last beams on the tops of the mountains, and landed quite fatigued, tho' excee- dingly glad of their happy preservation. Neither of them had m) to shoot. tast- 239 tasted a bit of any thing the whole day. They could not therefore wait till their return to the castle, but sat down on the sea shore and made a hearty meal of the provisi❤ ons, they had taken on board. Hereupon they drew n) the boat into a small creek you know what that is, I suppose? Johu. Oh yes! where the water runs into the land. It is almost the same as a bay. Father. Only that a bay is larger! They drew, I Bay, the boat into a creek, and went home carrying back every thing they had had in the boat. Nicholas. Oh, you have not done I hone? Father. Robinson and Friday have betaken themselves to rest, and the latter is already in a profound sleep, whilst the former is offering his hearty thanks to God for this new preservation. We might therefore finish for to day; but it being yet soon; I will pass over the night and relate, what happen'd the following day. " bave „ ,, Well, Friday," said Robinson at breakfast, you a mind to make a second trial with me to . day, as we did yesterday?” Friday. God forbid! Robinson. So you are determined, to end your days with me in this island ? Friday. If my father were but here! Robinson. So your father is still alive? Friday. Unless he died since I left him! 4 Here he laid down the potatoe he had in his hand, and a couple of large tears roll'd down his cheeks. This put Robinson in mind of his own parents, and he was also eyes. Both observed a mournful silence obliged to wipe his for some time. #) to draw. Ro. 240 Robinson. Take comfort, Friday! Your father is proba bly yet alive, and please God, we will shortly go over and bring him hither, This joy was too great for poor Friday! He jumped up roaring aloud, flung himself on Robinson's knees, embraced them, and could scarce utter a word for sobbing. what an example of who has no obligas or any instructions ,, My children! cried the mother, filial piety in a savage! in a savage, tions to his father for any education, who owes him only his life, and even a wretched life!" So true it is, added the father, that God has implanted love and gratitude into the hearts of all men towards their parents! And what a monster must he not be if there were any such among us civilized people who could stille this innate impulse, and grow indifferent to his parents, nay even cause them purposely grief and sorrow! If you should ever meet with such a monster: oh, never remain with him under one roof! flee from him, as from a pest to society, as a person, capable of committing any other act of inhumanity, and whom the judgment of God will follow at his heels! When Friday had recovered himself a little, Robinson asked him, whether he knew the passage home so well, that they needed not expose themselves to such dangers, as they encounter'd yesterday? Friday declared, that he knew the passage so well, that he would venture to go over by night because he had often been of those parties, when they came over to celebrate their victories. Robinson. So you were often amongst them killed men? Friday. Oh yes! Robinson. And did you share in their feasts? when they Friday. I did, alas! I did not know then, that there was any thing bad in it! Ro. 241. Robinson. On which side of the island did you use to land ? Friday. Always on the south side, because it was the and also because there are cocoa trees, nearest, I By this Robinson saw more plainly, how much reason he bad to thank God for having suffer'd him to be cast on the north side of the island rather than on the southern, where he would in a short time have fallen a prey to the savages. Hereupon he repeated his very agreeable promise to Friday, that he would shortly go over with him to fetch his father. For the present it was not yet possible, because their gar- dening, for which it was now the season, demanded their immediate presence. At this they now began. Robinson and Friday dug a) as if for a wager, and in their hours of relaxation they never neglected, to make some useful instruments. Robinson, whose power of invention and patience were equally inex haustible, even succeeded in making a rake, tho' he was obliged to make the holes for the teeth you may easily guefs, how slowly! with a pointed stone. Friday on the contrary made by degrees two spades of a very hard kind of wood with his stone-knife, that they were almost of as great service to them, as if they had been made of iron. And now Robinson was no longer satisfied with the most necessary things, but by degrees he began to think of em▾ bellishing his habitation. And thus it has always been in the world, my children. As long as men were to employ all their thoughts in getting their sustenance and in provide ing for their safety, they never thought of applying to those arts, which serve to embellish the objects about them and to procure them more refined pleasure, than the mere ani. mal pleasures of the senses are. But as soon as they had V a) to dig, pro« 242 provided for their sustenance and safety, they began to unite beauty with utility and pleasure with the necessary. Thus arose architecture, painting, sculpture, musick and the rest comprised under the name of liberal arts. Robinson began with improving and embellishing his gar den. He divided it according to a proper plan into regular quarters; these quarters he again divided by straight paths, made with the line, into beds; be planted hedges, ar- bours and walks; appointed one part for a flower-garden, a second for a kitchen garden, and a third for an orchard. In the latter he planted all the young lemon trees he could find in the island, together with a number of other young trees, on which he grafted the breadtree. I have forgot to tell you, that in his walks about the woods he found an other tree of that kind. At this last operation Friday stared exceedingly, because he could not comprehend, what it was for, till Robinson explain'd the matter to him. · Now they planted potatoes and sowed indian corn in great quantities, and as the land had perhaps not been used since the creation of the world, every thing grew luxuriantly. At times they also went out a fishing, because Friday, as I have already mention'd had made nets for that purpose during the last rainy season. They never caught by more, than they needed, and therefore threw those, they did not want, into the sea again: for, said Robinson, we must never take any more of the gifts of God, than we need to satisfy our wants; and it is wicked to take away the lives of any more of those harmleſs creatures, our daily sustenance. than we want for On these occasions they generally used to bathe themselves too; and Robinson could not forbear admiring the asto nishing dexterity of Friday in swimming and diving. He b) to catch. com 243 commonly chose soine rocky shore, against which the fus rious waves were breaking in a frightful manner; into these he sportingly jumped down and remained some minutes un der water, so that poor Robinson often was in the greatest uneasineſs about him; then he came up again on the sur◄ face of the water, laid himself on his back and lay rolling on the waves, playing all sorts of tricks, the circumstan. tial description of which would appear almost incredible. Robinson could not help admiring the astonishing capacity of human nature, which renders us fit for every thing, to which we have been accustomed from our youth. On other days they diverted themselves with hunting, bes cause Friday was also master in making as well as in using the bow and arrows. They shot birds and young lamas; but never any more than they wanted, because Robinson, as I said before, thought it a cruelty, to torment and kill any animal whatever for mere amusement. Though Robinson surpassed Friday with respect to unders standing and in many other things, the latter knew many little arts, that had been hitherto unknown to his master and that were now of great use to them. He could make all sorts of tools out of bones, stones, shells and other things, with which they could make many things as well, as if they had been made with instruments of iron. Thus for instance he made a chisel, of a man's thigh bone, which he had fund by chance; a rasp, of coral; a file, of the sharp skin of a fish. great many pieces of furniture, which greatly encreased the conveniencies of their lives. a knife, of a shell; With these he made a Friday shew'd his master morcover, to make dough of the fruit of the bread-tree, which was almost as nourish. ing as our bread and even something like it in taste, which was a matter of particular importance. The savage com. ▼ 2 mon, 244 monly eat this dough raw; but Robinson baked it first on a hot stone, and used it alterwards as we do bread. Besides this Friday taught ) him the use of cocoakernels, which he had found in some of his former rambles about the island, and of which he had by chance taken some home with him. These kernels, when roasted before the fire were a very palatable food, and at the same time very nourishing and wholesome. Robinson, who was always very fond of making new trials, pounded some of thein between two stones, after they were roasted, mixed the powder of them with some milk in a pot, and boiled it over the fire. How great was his astonishment and at the same time his joy, when, tast. ing it, he found it was real chocolate. Frederic. Oh! chocolate? in it. Father. Yes, except that spices and sugar were wanting Thus the provisions of our good Robinson encrea- sed by degrees, and with them the source of his pleasures. But to his praise I must say, that he persevered neverthe lefs in his late resolution, and continued to live as mode rately and as simply, as he had begun. Now they both made long and frequent excursions through the island, especially on such days, when the wind was that the savages could not come over; and on such occasions they discovered many things, that might be of use to them for the future. $0, ་ At last their garden work was finished, and now a day was appointed to go over to Friday's country, and fetch his father. But the nearer the day of their departure approached, the oftener the following scruple arose in Robinson's heart : suppose, they should not mind the remonstrances of Friday and I should fall a sacifice to their abominable and inhu• 7) to teach. man 245 man appetite? He could not help communicating these a. prehensions to his friend. But Friday assured him by every thing the most sacred, that he had nothing to fear; that he knew his country men too well, and that he was sure they never hurt any body, but their enemies. Robinson was convinced, he would not say so, if it were not true. He therefore suppressed all his fearful apprehensions, relyed on the honesty of his friend, and resolved in the name o of· God, to set out with him the next morning. For this purpose they pushed the boat, that had hitherto lain in the creek, into the sea again, and fasten'd it to a pole, they had drove h) into the ground. They now spent the evening in roasting potatoes, and preparing other pro- visions, which they intended to take along with them, that they might have enough for eight days at least, On this oc- casion Friday shew'd his master, that he was not quite ig norant in the art of cookery; for he roasted a whole young lama, which they had shot, in leſs time and made it more: tender, than it would have been when roasted on a spit, This he did in the following manner. He dug a hole in the ground about two foot deep into which he first put a layer of stones alternately. Then he set fire to the wood. After which he held i) the young lama over the fire to singe off the hair; this done he scraped it with a shell so clean, as if it had been scalded in boiling water. With the same shell be open'd the body of the ani mal, and took out the inside. Whilst this was doing, all the wood was burned to ashes, the hole was thorougly heated and the stones were red hot. Upon which he threw all the stones together with the ashes out of the hole, fast as he could, laid some of the hot stones on the bottom of the hole, and cover'd them with green cocoa leaves V 3- Upo as h) to drive. 1) to hold, 246 Upon these he placed the lama, and having cover'd it again with leaves and put all the hot stones upon it, he filled the hole entirely with earth. Some hours after he open'd the hole again and took out the lama. Robinson, who tasted a bit of it, confes- sed, that it was more tender, more juicy and more savou- ry, than if it had been roasted on a spit; he therefore resolved to do it the same way for the future. John. It is the same way that the natives of Otaheite roast their dogs. Father. It is so. Theophilus. Do they then eat dogs? John. To be sure! Did not we read so last winter: the Englishmen, who tasted the meat confessed, it was very good. Some of them. Fie! Father. But you must know, that the dogs there live in a quite different manner, from what ours do. They eat no Besh, but feed only upon fruits, so that their flesh may taste quite differently from that of ours. 1 Now, my children, all the preparations for their in. tended voyage were made. We will therefore let our two travellers rest for this night, and then see, to morrow evening what is become of them. TWEN TWENTY SECOND EVENING. "1 Father. Robinson and Friday had scarcely slept an hour, when the former was suddenly awoke k) by a violent thun- der-storm. The thunder rumbled and roared so dreadfully, that it made the earth tremble. Do you hear that, Fri. day?” said Robinson, awaking his bed - fellow. Good God!" said Friday; if we had been at sea now!" He had scarce pronounced these words, when they heard a sudden clap, like the report of a gun at a distance. Friday thought, it was a clap of thunder; Robinson on the contrary firmly believed it to be the report of a gun, and this persuasion filled him with joy. He presently jumped up from his bed, ran to the kitchen and desired Friday to follow him. Here he took a flaming fire-brand and ran up bis ladder. Friday follow'd his master's example without knowing, what he was going to do. Now Robinson made a large fire on the top of the hill in the greatest hurry, as a signal for the sufferers, that they might find a place of refuge here; for he thought, there was some distressed vessel in the neighbourhood, on board of which they had fired. But the fire had scarce begun to burn, when the heavy rains put it out in a moment. Ro- binson and Friday were therefore obliged, to retire into their cave. g) to awake. V 4 Now 248 Now the storm raged, the rain pour'd down and the thunder rumbled with uncommon violence. One thunder clap succeeded another, and tho' it now and then appeared to Robinson, as if he heard the report of more guns: yet at last he doubted whether, it might not all be thunder? During the whole night he nevertheless indulged himself with the pleasing thought, that there was some ship near to de- liver him; that it might perhaps escape the danger it was now in, and carry him with his faithful Friday to Europe. More than ten times he attempted to make a fresh fire, but the incessant rain always quenched it again. He could there. fore do nothing but pray for the people in distress, which he did with the greatest devotion. Theophilus. Is not he then so much afraid of thunder as he formerly was? DOW, Father. You see, this foolish fear has left him now; and what may be the reason of it? Johu. Because he has a good conscience now. Father. Very right! and besides he is now firmly con- vinced, that God is a God of love, and that nothing can befall those, who are good and righteous, but what must in the end promote their real happineſs. The storm did not subside till break of day; and Robin- son in company with Friday ran between fear and hope tow- ards the seashore, to see whether what he had supposed, was true or not? But the first thing they saw was extreŃ mely grievous to both, especially to poor Friday; for the storm had torn a) the boat from the stake to which it was fastened and carried it out into the open sea. It was lamen- table, to behold the affliction of Friday, when he found himself disappointed in the pleasing hope of seeing his fa- ther again! He turn'd as pale as death, and stood for #) to tear. 80" 249 some time quite speechleſs, his staring looks fixed on the ground and his whole soul seemed to be absent. Toen he broke out into a flood of tears, wrung b) his hands, beat his breast and tore c) his hair. "" 24 Robinson, who from his own misfortunes had learn'd to sympathize with the unhappy, pitied his distress, and en- deavour'd by his kind and friendly remonstrances to bring him again to reason. Who knows," said he, but it may be good, that we have lost our boat now? Who knows, of what service the storm, that is the cause of it, may be in its consequences to us or to others?" Fine advantage!" replied Friday a little bitter: it has de- • So, replied Robin. prived us of our boat; that's all!" son, because you and I, both short sighted beings, can perceive no other effect of the storm but the lofs of our boat: you imagine, that God the allwise director of all things had no other reason for sending it? Senseless young man, how dare you judge of the designs of God Al mighty!- ,, Ay, but of what service could it be to us?" said Fris day. Is that a question, which I can answer? said Ro. binson. Am I omniscient, to be able to understand the designs of the ruler of the world? I may indeed suppose something but who can tell me, whether I have guessed right? Perhaps there were so many unwholesome vapours gathered together in our islaud, that a storm was necessary to disperse them, to prevent our falling sick and dying! Perhaps our boat would have caused our ruin, if it had not been destroy'd! Perhaps But why should I repeat my suppositions, as it is enough for us to know, that it is God, who commands the storm, and that this God is a most wise and bountiful Father towards all his creatures? V 5 b) to wring. c) to tear. Fri. 250 } Friday recollected himself, repented of his rashnefs, and submitted to the will of Providence. In the mean time Ro• binson's eyes were wandering about on the surface of the ocean, whether he could not discover a ship some where or other? But in vain! There was no such thing. He saw therefore, that he had been mistaken, and that the repeat- ed claps, which he mistook for the report of cannon had certainly been nothing, but thunder. Quite dejected at finding himself deceived in his agreeable hopes, he return ed home. But he could find neither rest nor peace at home, be cause he always fancied he saw a ship at an anchor near his island. Therefore he went out again, and ascended the hill, from whence he could overlook the western coast: but he could not discover, what be bad seen in his agree able dream. Still dissatisfied and uneasy he ran to another hill, that was much higher, in order to explore the eas. tern coast of his island. In a moment he was at the top, and looking towards the east. Heavens! how his whole soul was agreeably surprised, when he saw the accomplish. ment of bis dream! All. Oh deark Father. He saw a vessel and, notwithstanding the great distance, he saw it so distinctly, that he could no longer doubt of its being a real and at the same time a pretty lar. ge one. My good children, you will spare me the vain at- tempts of describing his joy and raptures. He ran almost breathlefs back to his cave, seized his arms, without which he never used to go out, and was unable to say any thing to Friday, who stared at him with surprise, except: there they are! quick! quick! and thus he got up his ladder again in the greatest hurry. Friday concluded from his master's confusion, and from He there- his broken words, that the savages were come. fore 251 fore took up his arms likewise, and ran after his master with all speed. ? Ro They were obliged to go more than two miles, before they reached that part of the shore, which seemed to be opposite to where the ship was at an anchor. It was but here that Friday was informed, what was the matter. binson shew'd him the ship at a distance, which made him stare exceedingly because he could see very plainly, noth withstanding the great distance, that it was an hundred times bigger, than any he had ever seen before. Robinson did not know, what to do with himself for joy. Sometimes he caper'd about, sometimes he halloo'd, and then again he flung himself into Friday's arms and beg. ged him with tears in his eyes, to rejoice also! Now they were going to Europe to Hamburgh! Then he should see, how the people lived there! What hou. ses they could build! How conveniently, how quietly, how agreeably people lived there! The torrent of his words was inexhaustible. He He would perhaps have continued speaking till the next day without intermission if he had not recollected, that it was foolish, to spend his time in useless words, and that he ought above all things to endeavour, to make himself observed by the people on board. But how was this to be done? That was now the question. He tried to raise his voice; but he soon perceived, that his endeavours were fruitlefs, though the wind had changed since the storm, and blew ) now from the island towards the ship. He therefore desired his friend to make a fire in all possible haste, which might be seen by the people on board. Friday did so, and Robinson made the flame of it rise as bigh as a tree. And now he stood gazing on the ship, d) to blow. 252 ship, because he expected every moment, to see a boat row towards the shore. But there was no boat to be seen. At last, when the fire had burnt a whole hour in vain Friday ofler'd to swim to the ship, nothwithstanding its distance, and beg the people to come on shore. Upon which Robinson embraced him and begged him by all means to be careful of his life. Now Friday stript off his clothes, that were made of mats; took a green branch in his mouth, and boldly jumped into the water. Robinson sent the warm- est wishes for his preservation along with him. Charlotte. Pray, what did he mean by the green brauch? Father. A green een branch is among the savages a sign of peace, and they never molest any one, who thus approa ches them. He took it along with him for his security. Friday at last arrived at the ship, swam e) a couple of times round about it, and cried out halloo! But no body answer'd him. At last he perceived a ladder hanging down by a rope; he swam to it, and went up by it with his green branch in his hand. When he had got so high, that he could look upon dock, he was frighten'd at the sight of an animal, the like of which he had never seen before. It was black and rough; and the it lifted up his voice moment it got sight of Friday, it lifted the like of which Friday had never heard before. Presently after it was again silent, and seemed so friendly, that the fear, it had at first excited in Friday, began to subside. It came creeping towards him in the most humble posture, wagg'd its tail, and whined so lamentably, that Friday soon per ceived, it sought ) his protection. He therefore ventured, when it had crept g) close to his feet, to stroke it, and it seemed almost mad for joy. Friday now walked all over the deck, and continued •) to swim. f) to seek. g) to creep. calling 253 calling out with a loud voice: but no body appeared. Whilst he was staring at the wonderful things he saw upon deck, with his back turned towards the stairs, that go down between decks, he suddenly received such a hard and violent push from behind, that he fell down at his full length. Getting up again and looking behind him, he was almost petrified with terror at the sight of a pretty large ani- mal with long crooked horns, and a very long beard, ri. sing on its hinder legs, to give him a second wellcome. Friday gave a loud outcry, and without hesitating a mos ment, jumped over board into the sea. The above mention'd black animal, which you probably know by the description. John. Oh yes! a spaniel! Father. Very right! Well, this spaniel follow'd Frie day's example and jumped over board, in order to swim after him. Friday, who heard something paddling behind him, imagined the horned monster to be pursuing him, and was so terrified, that he was scarce able to swim ready to sink to the bottom: a fresh instance, how preju- dicial cowardice is, and how it exposes us to dangers which we might otherwise have escaped! and He scarce dared to look behind him, and when he had recover'd himself a little, he swam so fast, that the dog could scarce follow him. At last he reached the shore and fell quite speechleſs and exhausted at Robinson's feet. The dog landed soon after him, Robinson used all possible means to recover the faithful friend of his solitary life. He embraced, stroked, and shook a) him, calling him aloud by his name. But it lasted several minutes, before he had the joy of seeing Friday open his yes, or give any other sign of returning life, At last being X to shake. 251 રં L again able to speak, he related to him, what a terrible adventure he had met with; how the vessel seemed to be a huge wooden mountain, on which three very high trees were growing. (meaning the masts); how friendly the black animal had been to him, and how the other horned and bearded monster had attempted to kill him afterwards; and that he believed this monster to be the master of this wooden floating mountain, because he had seen no man upon it. Robinson listen'd to him with great surprise. He con- cluded from his description, that the horned monster was nothing but a goat, and from the rest of the circumstances he inferred, that the ship was stranded, and that the crew had saved themselves in their boats, and left the ship; but he could not conceive not conceive, what was become what was become of them. If they had caved themselves in the island, they would in all probability be in the same place, where he was now with Friday but they could neither see nor hear any thing of them; and had they been overset in their boats, their bodies and boats must have been driven on shore. At last be recollected, that the wind had suddenly shifted from the West to the East during the tempest. This seemed to clear up the whole mistery. These people, thought he, have certainly been hinder'd from reaching our shore by the wind's shifting so suddenly to the east. The storm must have driven them westwards, and they must either be lost or got into the current driven to some westerly island. God grant the last may be true, said he sighing; and communicated his suppositions to Friday, who found them probable likewise. or But what are we to do now? said Robinson. Whether the crew be dead or alive, or only driven away by the storm, in either case the best thing, we can do, is, to save as many things from the ship as possible. But how? We have no boat more! Here he felt the lofs of the boat al. 255 almost as grievously, as Friday had felt it before. He rub bed his forehead, to find out some means to supply the lofs of it; but he could find none for a good while. To make another boat, would have taken up too much time. He would not venture to swim to the ship, because it was too far: and then what could he have carried along with him, whem swimming? John. I know, what I should have done. Father. And what would you have done? John. I should have made a raft. Father. The very same thing at last occurred to our Ro. binson! A raft, he thought, would be soonest made. Frederic. Pray, what is a raft? John. Did not you see, when we lately went on board of the yacht, there were a great many rafts lying on the Elbe near the gate? Frederic Oh yes, a great many beams fasten'd toge- ther, so that one could stand and walk on them, as on board of a ship? Father. Very right! Such a raft our Robinson intended to make, and to go with it to the ship, and fetch as ma ny things, as they could. Upon which he agreed with Fri- day, who was the swiftest on foot, to run home and fetch provisions for a whole day, together with all the ropes and other tools they had, whilst Robinson would stay there, and cut down trees to make a raft, It was almost night before Friday returned. Robinson in the mean time diverted himself exceedingly with the dog▸ who was very dear and estimable to him as his european countryman, The dog also semed no lefs rejoiced and of his own accord play'd all the tricks before him, which he had learned. When Friday returned, Robinson gave him the first portion of the victuals, tho' he himself had not tasted any thing the whole day. X 3 As 256 As it was luckily moon-light, they worked on without interruption till after midnight. But then they grew so sleepy, that they could not possibly resist any longer. Nicholas. That I dare say, for they had been up the whole night before! Diek. And had run about so much that day; particularly Friday! Father. They therefore laid down on the grafs, and committed the care of watching them to the dog. The dog laid down at their feet and thus they enjoy'd the benefit of a soft and refreshing sleep till day break. • TWEN TWENTY THIRD EVENING. Father. The dawn of day had scarce redden'd the ut most verge of the eastern horizon, when Robinson roused his companion, in order to finish the work, which they had begun the day before. They worked during the day with so much assiduity, that by evening they got their raft in readineſs. They had joined a double row of beams, partly with ropes and partly with pliable and tough indian withes, so that it formed a perfectly safe vehicle of about twenty foot long and almost as broad. They had also used the precaus tion, to make it close by the seaside and on rollers, that they might without lofs of time, and without any great trouble push it into the water. ? At break of day the next morning the sea began luckily, ebbing, and they did not lose a moment's time, to launch their raft into the sea, and go with the tide to the strand◄ ed vessel; and in lefs than half an hour they were there. f How Robinson's heart jumped for joy, when he saw the large european ship before him! He had almost kissed the side of it for joy, because it came from his country and had been built and brought hither by Europeans! But alas! these beloved Europeans themselves were not to be found, and had perhaps been swallow'd up by the waves! This afflicting thought highly grieved poor Robinson's heart. He X S would 258 would willingly have given half his future life, if he could have recover'd the lost crew, and have sail'd with them to Europe! But that being an impossibility, he had nothing. better to do, than to save as much as he could of the load- ing, and employ it to his greater conveniency. Theophilus. But might he take any of those goods that were not his own? Father. What do you think, John, might he? John. Yes, he might take them out of the ship, and carry them on shore; but if the owners were found, he was obliged to return them. Father. Very right! For if he did not take out the goods they would by degrees become a prey to the waves. There. fore he might also without any scruple appropriate to him. belf, whatever he needed most, and account for it to the owners, if ever they appeared, for the trouble and labour he had been at, in saving the cargo. ! As to stranded ships in general, it is a point agreed upon among some civilized nations, that the goods saved are al ways divided into three shares. One share falls to the own- ers, if they be alive, or to their heirs, if they be dead; the second falls to him who has saved the goods; and the third to the sovereign of the country. to Nicholas. To the sovereign? Why does he get any of them? Father. This is a question to which I can not at present However I may tell you give you a very satisfactory answer. something, which you can already comprehend. The King or the Prince, or whatever title the sovereign of a country may have, maintains certain people on the sea • coast, take care, that nothing be robbed from such a stranded vess sel, and that every thing, which is taken out of it, be carried to a place of safety. Without this precaution the merchant, to whom the cargo belongs, would seldom get any thing back again, because the goods would be either spoil- 259 spoiled or stolen. Now the people appointed for this pur- pose, are paid by the sovereign of the country; it is there fore just that those should pay for it, who reap the advan. tage of this useful establishment. It has therefore been agreed upon, that a third part of the goods saved should fall to the share of the sovereign, and this regulation is called: the laws of wreck and salvage. as his lawful Consequently Robinson had a right to claim two thirds of the goods, which he could get on shore, property, and use them as he should think fit. John. Two thirds? Father. Yes, one for his trouble and labour, the second as sole and lawful sovereign of the island, near which the ship had stranded. Dick. But who made him lord of the island? Father, Common sense. A piece of land, that never was in any body's possession before, naturally belongs to him, who first takes possession of it. And that was the case here. What Robinson mostly wished for, after recovering from the violent sensations of joy at the sight of an european ship, was, that she might be unshatter'd and get afloat again. In this case he was firmly resolved to go on board of her with Friday, and sail at least to some european plantation in America, in case he could not get to Europe, however dangerous it might be, to venture himself on the open sea on board of a large unmanned vessel and without any knowledge of navigation. He therefore went round the ves sel on his raft, to examine the bottom under the water; but be soon found to his great sorrow, that it was not pos▪ sible she could get afloat again; for the storm had cast her between two rocks, where she was so jamm'd in, that she could neither move backward or forward. Here she must therefore remain, till the raging wares should by degrees dash her to pieces. Robinson finding himself frusrated in X 4 I his 200 bis hopes, bastcu'd on board to see, what the cargo con. sisted of, and whether that were yet undamaged. The fright, which poor Friday got before, was still so fresh in his me. mory, that he could scarce resolve to follow his master upen deck. However he follow'd hin; but not without tren blir g. particularly as the horned monster was the first object, that presented itself to his view. But the horned monster was not now so fierce as it had been the day before. It now lay quite spiritlefs, as if una” ble to rise, because no body had given it any food for three days. Robinson, who suspected the cause of its weaknefs' first took care to find some food for the poor starved ani. mal, As he was perfectly well acquainted with the inward construction of a ship, he soon found what he look'd for, and had the pleasure to see, that the goat devoured the fodder, be bad flung before her with great eagerness. In the mean time Friday stared at the figure of this unknown animal. i Now Robinson began a regular search. He went from one cabin into another, every where between decks, and saw a thousand things, that are scarce looked at in Europe, but that were of unspeakable value to him now. There were great casks full of sea biscuits, rice, flour, corn, wine, gunpowder, balls and shot; there were cannons, firelocks, pistols, swords and culasses; moreover hatchets, saws chisels, gimlets, rasps, planes, hammers, iron bars, nails, knives, scissars, needles; there were pots, di- shes, plates, spoons, fire tonge, bellows, porringers and other wooden, iron, pewter and copper kitchin uten- sils lastly there were whole chests full of clothes, linen, stockings, shoes, boots and a hundred other things, for every one of which our ravish'd Robinson would willingly have given his long forgotten lump of gold, if one or other of these things had been offer'd him for sale, Fris 261 . Friday stood staring at all these objects, because he had never seen any thing like, and could not gueſs the use of the greater part of them. Robinson on the other hand was quite in extasy. He wept b) for joy, and as a little child he snatched every thing he saw, and threw it down again as 600n as his eyes fell on an object, that seemed more desi rable. At last he was going down into the hold: but he found it full of water, because the ship had sprung a leak. Now he began to muse with himself, what he should bring with him this time; but for a considerable time he could not resolve upon any thing. Now he thought one thing the most needful, and then again another, and there. fore he often rejected, what he had just before chosen, aad took another in the place of it. At last he chose the following things, as the most valuable, to be taken on shore for this time, viz: 1) A barrel of gunpowder, and another of shot; 2) Two firelocks, two brace of pistols, two swords and two cutlasses; 3) Double cloathing from head to foot for himself and Friday; 4) Two dozen of shirts; 5) Two hatchets, two saws, two planes, a couple of iron bars, hammers and some other tools; 6) some books, paper, ink and pens; 7) A tinder box, with mat. ches, tinder and flints; 8) A cask full of biscuits; 9) some sail- cloth; and. 10) the goat. Frederic. Oh he had no great need of the goat! as Father. That's true, Frederic, but the goat had great need of him, and Robinson was too compassionate towards all living creatures, to leave the poor animal on board, he did not know, whether the ship might not be dashed to pieces by a storm, before his return, particularly as he had room enough on his raft for the most necessary things. He therefore took her along with him. X 5 Од b) to weep. 262 On the contrary he left something, which the people in Europe would have seized the first of all: a small cask full of gold dust, and a box full of diamonds, which he had found in the Captain's cabin. It never once struck him to take them with him; because he could find no manner of use for them. He had spent so much time in searching, opening, un. packing, rejoicing, choosing and loading, that he had but an hour till the returning tide. He was obliged to wait till then, because he could not well gain the shore without it. This hour Robinson spent in dining after the european fashion, - For this purpose he fetch'd a piece of smoak'd beef, a couple of herrings, some biscuit, butter, cheese and a bott le of wine, then he put all these things upon the table in the cabin, and sat down in company with Friday on the chairs, that were standing about it. It was a greater joy for him than I am able to describe, that he could once more sit at a proper table, on a chair, and have a plate, knife and fork to help themselves with: and to compleat all, the victuals, particularly bread, which he had so of ten longed for in vain, ohr you can not imagine how all this delighted him! To have a compleat idea of all the joy he felt, one should like him be nine whole years deprived of all such victuals and conveniencies. Friday was so little used to the european manner of living, that he did not know, how to handle a knife and fork, Robinson shew'd him how to use them; but when he was going to imitate him and to put a bit of meat on the point of his fork, he carried the bit of meat, as he had been hitherto accustom'd up to his ear, and the handle of the fork to his mouth. He would by no means drink any of the wine, which Robinson offer'd him, because his palate, which had hitherto been used to nothing but water, could not 263 1. not bear the strength of any liquor. The biscuit on the cons trary was very much to his taste. Now the tide was coming in; they both therefore got down upon their raft, and put to sea, that they might reach the shore with the return of the tide. In a short time they landed, and hasten'd to bring their goods on shore. Friday was very curious to know, what all these things were, and of what uses they could be? The first thing Ro binson did to satisfy his curiosity, was this: he stept be hind a bush, put on a shirt, stockings and shoes and a complete officer's uniform; then putting a laced hat on his head, and a sword by his side, he suddenly appear'd be- fore the astonished eyes of Friday. The poor fellow quite stupified started back some paces, because at first sight he really doubted, whether he saw his master, or some other supernatural being, Robinson, who could not forbear smil. ing at his astonishment, kindly reached him his hand, as- suring him, that he was still the same Robinson and his friend, tho' his clothes and circumstances were altered, After which he took a whole sailor's drefs, shew'd him, how to put on every particular piece, and desired him to retire behind the bush and drefs himself likewise. Friday obey'd; but how long was he dressing. Sometimes he put one thing on the wrong way, and sometimes another. In putting on his shirt, for instance, he first put his legs thro' the sleeves, as if he had put on a pair of breeches.. He did the same with the breeches, putting in his feet at the wrong end, and also with his jacket, which he tried to button behind. By little and little he perceived his mis- take and corected it, till after many fruitless attempts he at length got ready with his whole drefs. When he saw himself thus changed and perceived, how commodious this dreſs was, and how well it would preserve him 264 ་ him from the stings of the moschitos, he began to jump about for joy like a child. Only the shoes did not please him, because he considered them as superfluous and in- convenient. He therefore begged leave to pull off again, which Robinson left to bis free option. Now he shew'd him the use of hatchets and other tools, at the sight of which Friday was beside himself for joy and admiration. They began to make immediate use of them, in cutting a small mast for their raft; that they might for the future use a sail, and not be obliged to wait always for the tide. Robinson undertook this work alone and sent Friday in the mean time to his habitation to milk the lamas which they had been forced to neglect these two days. During Friday's absence Robinson loaded one of the mus kets, because he had reserved to himself the pleasure of surprising his friend with the wonderful effect of gunpowder. When he was now returned, and wondering, that Robin. son had done his work so soon, the latter discovered a gull flying with a fish in his bill. He immediately took up his fire-lock and cried out: Mind me, Friday, I'll fetch him down! He had scarce pronounced these words, when he drew c) the trigger, and down came the gull to the ground. Figure to yourselves Friday's astonishment and terror! He fell down, as if he himself had been shot, because his for mer superstition of the Toupan or thunderer suddenly reviv. ed, and in the first moment of his fright, he thought his master was the thunderer. He fell down, as I said before; then he raised himself upon his knees, stretching his trem bling hands out towards Robinson, as if he would beg for mercy; for he could not speak. Robinson was far from making a joke of any thing that regards religion. He there fore no sooner perceived Friday's error but he was sorry, that s) to draw. 265 that he had not before acquainted him with what he intend ed to do; and hastened to clear up his mistake. He kindly raised his trembling Friday, embraced him, and begged him, not to be afraid, adding he would presently show him, bow to make such thunder and lightening, which were a thing quite natural. Then, after having explained to him the different parts of the fire lock, and the nature and effect of gunpowder, he loaded the piece in his presence, and put it into his hand, to let him fire it himself. But Fri- day, who was still too fearful, begged him, to do it in his stead. Upon which Robinson fixed a mark at two hun• dred feet distance, placed himself next to Friday. and fira ed the piece oft. Friday was again very near falling down to the ground: for what he heard and saw appear'd quite supernatural to him. Many grains of small shot had lodged in the mark, and penetrated pretty deep into the wood, which Robinson having made Friday observe, he let him conclude, how safe they would be for the future against all the attacks of the savages, since they had this artificial thunder and ligh- tening in their power. From this and all he had seen on board of the ship, Friday conceived such a profound res pect for all the Europeans, and particularly for his master, that for some days he could not resume that air of familia rity, which he had hitherto kept up with his friend. > In the mean time night approached, and put an end to the business of this joyful day. F TWEN ; TWENTY FOURTH EVENING, To the great satisfaction of the children, the father, with out making any preface the next evening, pursued his narra. tive in the following manner: as that Robinson had never before slept a) so well, night; for since the first day of his solitary abode in this island, he had never been so happy as he felt himself now. Neither is it possible, that man ever felt sincerer gratitude and love for his heavenly benefactor, to whom he owes his happiness, than he did. When alone, he would often fall on his knees, and thank his bountiful heavenly Father for having bestowed upon himso many things! He likewise endea- voured to instill such pious sentiments of gratitude into the heart of Friday. Before they went to bed, he taught b) him the hymn: Now thank ye all the Lord! and then they both raised their voices to the praise of their supreme Bene. factor. The next morning they rose very early, placed all their things in a thicket, and covered them with boughs, for in case it should happen to rain; and when the sea began to ebb, they left the chore to go on board of the wreck. what does that signify? Frederic. A wreck Father, A ship that is stranded and partly dash'd to pie- Cesa • a) to sleep. b) to teach. 267 ces. As they had the day before brought off a couple of oars with them, which I forgot to mention, they now went much quicker, than the first time. They got safe on board; and the first thing they did, was o gather all the boards they could find, and to let them down on the raft, on which they placed them as a floor two boards thick, in order to preserve the goods, they intended to take on shore, from being wet, as they had been the day before, Now Robinson examined every thing over again, in order to make a prudent choice among the different things, which he could not take on shore at once. This time his choice was attended with lefs difficulty, as he had already carried the most necessary things on shore. Yet he acted again with the same precaution, as he had done before. Among other things he this time resolved to take one of the six small pieces of cannon on shore, which he had found on board of the vessel. John. A cannon? something more useful! Why I think he might have taken Father. So it seems to us, who judge of his situation at a distance; whereas Robinson, who considered it more nearly, found this cannon an essential implement to make his mind easy. John. How so? Father. The place, where he first deposited what goods he had brought on shore, was not fortified, and besides not far from the spot, where the savages generally landed. It is true, he might now with pretty good confidence rely on the defence he could make with his firelocks and pistols, in case of an attack; but the idea, that he should then be again under the dismal necessity of killing some of these poor savages, made him shudder whenever he thought of it. Now, it he had a cannon, he could fire a ball over their heads, in case they should approach his island in Y 2 their 268 their canoes, the fear of which would make them turn back again. Do you see, my lad, how unsafe it is 10 pretend judging of other people's conduct? We very seldom know the mo• tives of other people's actions, how dare we then presume to judge of them? A wise man is therefore very slow and cau tious in judging of other people, he will never do it with out some particular calling, because he has enough to do in thinking and judging of his own actions; and for the fu ture we will do so too, my children! · Besides the piece of cannon Robinson and Friday took this time the following articles on their raft: a bag full of rye, an other full of barley, and a third full of pease; a chest of nails and screws; a dozen of hatchets ; a barrel of gun- powder, with balls and small shot; a sail, and a grindstone. Theophilus. What could he do with that? Father. Sharpen his hatchets, knives and other tools, when they needed it. Theophilus. Why, Why, had he no stones in his island? Father. Stones in plenty; but no grindstones. Have not you observed that these are of a particular sort, and much softer than other stones? Theophilus. Yes, yes. Father. Well, he had not as yet met with any such soft stone in his island; and yet such a grindstone is a very useful and necessary thing for such as use sharp tools. He therefore, preferred it, without any hesitation, to the gold dust and diamonds, which he again left behind. · Before they returned on shore, Robinson examined the state of the ship, and found, that the water had risen so- mething higher in the hold, and that some of her side planks were loosen'd by the waves and by her rubbing against the rock. He foresaw that she would be quite dash'd to pieces by the first storm. This made him the more eager to save whatever he could of her cargo. As 269 As the wind now blew e) towards the land, they got on shore by the help of their sail and oars, tho' the tide had : scarce half done ebbing. On their way Robinson made himself reproaches, a proof of his honesty. Dick. And for what did he blame himself? Father. For not having carried away the gold and dias monds. Dick. And what could he do with them? Father. For himself he could make no use of them, but he thought it not quite impossible, that the master of the ship might be still alive, and return to see, whether he could not save something. Now if a sudden storm should arise and destroy the ship, before he could return to it, and the gold and jewels should be lost d) how, thought he, could justify myself to the owner, to God, and my own conscience, for having saved such things only, may be useful to me, and neglected what is most valuable to the real master of all these things? on which perhaps his and many other people's whole fortune may depend? Robinson! Robinson! added he, slapping his forehead with indignation, how far art thou yet from being as good as thou oughtst to be? as He had scarce patience to wait till they reached the shore, but he again wished to return on board; so great was the uneasiness of his conscience, because he had ne glected a duty, which justly seemed sacred to him! At last they arrived; but the moment they reached the shore, their lading was near tumbling into the sea. As the tide was still ebbing, the water near the shore was so shallow, that the forepart of the raft ran at once upon the sand, and was consequently much higher than the hind- part, which was on the water. Robinson and Friday stood Y 3 e) to blow. d) to lose. luc. 270 luckily behind, and could therefore prevent the cargo from slipping into the water. After having fasten'd every thing, they were obliged to wade thro' the water and mud, to get their things on shore. This they did so very expeditiously and carefully, that nothing was lost, and that they had time to go on board again before the return of the tide. Robinson was no sconer on board, but he made all poss sible haste to get the small cask of gold-dust and the box with diamonds, and to carry them down upon his raft. So his heart was relieved of a heavy burthen and this duty being perform'd, he thought he had a right to provide for himself again. 1 This time he took a couple of wheel barrows along with him, which he found on board, tho' I can not conceive, for what purpose they had been: besides a quantity of clothes and linen, many tools and utensils, a lantern, to gether with all the papers he found, in the Captain's cabin. As the tide was now returning, they sailed back again, and as they were driven forward by wind and tide, they soon reached the shore. The remaining part of the day Ro• binson dedicated to an occupation, which seemed indispen- sably necessary to him. He trembled at the thought, lest some heavy shower of rain might fall, and render his grea test treasure, his gunpowder useless. To prevent this danger, he resolved to make a tent that same day of the sail, which he had brought along with him, and to secure all his riches against the rain under it. As he now had scissars, needles and thread, this work went on very expeditiously, and Friday soon learned enough to be able to assist him. He could not sufficiently admire the inestimable invention of needles and thread, and con- fessed repeatedly, that he and his countrymen, in com pa. 271 parison with the skilful Europeans, were but ignorant fel- lows. Their work was completed before night fall; and then Robinson had the pleasure, of showing Friday the astonish ing effects of a cannon. He charged it with a ball and plaż ced it so, that the ball might skim along the surface of the water, to let Friday see distinctly, how far it would go. Now he fired it, and tho Friday was prepared for this spec tacle, by his having seen him fire his musket twice, yet he was again so frigten'd at this still more dreadful report of the cannon, that all his limbs trembled. The ball skim- med along the surface of the sea, till it was out of sight at an immense distance. Friday assured him, that such a sin. gle shot would make all his country-men run away, tho there were thousands of them, because they would take him, who could make such thunder, for the Toupan. When it was dark, Robinson lighted a candle, to look if over the papers he had brought from the ship, and see, he could not discover, to whom the ship belonged and for what place she had been bound. But unluckily the writings as well as the books were composed in a language, which he did not understand. How greatly did he now regret his having neglected the study of foreign languages? But this repentance came too late. However one circumstance gave him some light concerning the ship's destination and the object of her voyage. He found a couple of lettres directed for Barbadoes, an island in the West Indies, where there is a great trade with slaves. Frederic. A trade with slaves? Father. I will tell you, what it is. In Africa - don't you remember where that Fies? Frederic. Oh! yes, that way, over the green bridge and the geese e) green! Well, and e) the goose. Fa 272 Father. In Africa then, where the negroes live, most of the people are still as uncivilized and wild as brutes. Their chiefs or kings, who are no less savage, treat them therefore, as if they really were brutes. Now when the Europeans come there, they offer them whole herds of these black people for sale, just as we sell cattle in our markets. Many fathers even bring their children to sell them for trifles. Thus the Europeans buy a great number of them every year, and carry them to the West-Indies, where they are used for hard labour, and are at the same time but very poorly kept. Such a slave (so they call these un. happy people) is there in a very bad situation, and would often rather choose to die than live. Theophilus. But it is not at all well done to use men so! Father. It is indeed very wrong, it is also to be hoped, that this abominable trade with slaves will be abolished in time. Robinson found moreover an account, by which he could perceive, that there had been at least a hundred of such slaves on board of the ship, and were to be carried to Bar. badoes. He made Friday comprehend all these things, and added: who knows, whether these unhappy people do not owe their deliverance to that storm, which drove f) their vessel on the rock? the rock? Whether they have not reached some island by means of their boats, where their tyrants have no more power over thean, and where they may, in their own live very happy and contented? way, Friday did not find this in the least improbable. Well now Friday! added Robinson, whilst his face be. gan to glow; have you still the heart to repeat the question you lately asked me? Friday. Which? f) to drive. Ro. 273 Robinson. Of what use that storm might be, which carà ried away our boat?' Friday was ashamed, and cast down his eyes with a re pentant look. Upon which Robinson cried out with pious zeal: O Fris day! acknowledge the hand of the almighty and all-wise God, which has again appeared sensibly in this affair! See how much the storm was to return us for the trifle it had taken away! Look at this provision of necessaries, fit to make our lives commodious and happy; should we have all these things, were it not for the storm? It is indeed af flicting to owe one's happineſs to the misfortunes of other people; but suppose most of them that were on board of the stranded vessel live now much happier, than before? And it is not in the least improbable, that this is really the case! What do you think now of the divine government of the world? That is unspeakably wise and good, and that I was a fool!" replied Friday, folding his hands and lifting his eyes up to heaven, to pray God to forgive the sins, which he had committed through ignorance. Robinson kept all the writings, which he had been look◄ ing over, with as much care, as he did the gold and the jewels; that, in case he ever returned to Europe, he might by their means be able to find out, to whom he should res turn the treasures he had saved. For six days successively they continued to return to the wreck twice or thrice daily, and fetch'd every thing on shore, which they could master. A thousand trifles, which we should scarce have thought worthy to look at, because we never yet felt the want of them, were important to them and accordingly taken on shore. One part of the cargo con▪ sisted of ivory; which they left on board, because they could make no use of it. They also left behind some casks Y 5 } of 274 of coffee, which Robinson scorned to take, because he did not intend ever to accustom himself again to such su• perfluous and noxious delicacies. On the other hand they, endeavour'd to get as many planks as ever they could break loose, because they appear'd to him to be more useful, and consequently more valuable. They even carried the five re- maining guns on shore, as also all the iron they could find or break loose. Now after having made eighteen trips and every time with the best succefs, they perceived, when they were again on board of the wreck, that there was a storm rising. They made therefore all possible haste to compleat their loading. and left the wreck in hopes of reaching the shore before the storm came on. But their endeavours proved fruitlefs. Be fore they were half way, there arose so violent a storm with thunder lightening and rain, that the waves rolled over the raft, and washed every thing upon it into the sea. They held g) themselves for some time so that the foaming waves could not wash them over board, tho' now and then they went above a yard over their heads. But at length their weak-built raft could no longer resist the fury of the waves. The ligatures, by which the beams were fasten'd together, gave way, parated. Charlotte. Oh, poor Robinson! All. Oh be quiet, be quiet! and the whole raft ses Father. Friday endeavour'd to save himself by swimming, Robinson on the contrary got hold of a beam, with which he was sometimes plunged into the deep, and sometimes. lifted up on high. He was oftener under water, than above, and, quite stunned, so that he could neither see hear. At last his strength forsook ) him together with the knowledge of himself. He gave a loud cry, and then dis◄ g) to hold. h) to forsake. nor ap- 275 appear'd under a monstrous wave, which tore him from his beam. he Happily his faithful Friday had been constantly near him, tho' he might have saved himself much sooner, if he had chosen it. When he saw his master go to the bottom, did not hesitate a moment, but dived do vn, seized him by his left hand, and worked himself upwards with his right. And now be exerted his utmoct endeavours to such a de- gree, that in a few minutes he got on shore together with the corpse of his dear master, All. (quite alarmed) Oh, oh the corpse? Father So I call it, because there did not appear any remains of life in him. Friday carried the pale corpse on shore, threw i) him. self upon him in a fit of despair, called him, sbook ) him, rubbed his whole body, and pressed his lips above ten ti. mes on his mouth in order to blow breath into him. To his unspeakable joy he at length perceived some symptoms of life returning; he continued his endeavours, till Robinson recover'd his senses. دو Where am I? said he at last in a weak and trembling voice, opening his eyes again." In my arms, dear mas- ter!" answer'd Friday, whose tears gushed down his cheeks. And now it was an affecting scene. Whilst Robinson was thanking his deliverer, Friday did not know, what to do with himself for joy at his dear master's return to life. my children, I think we can not break off our story with any thing better; so enough for to day, And now, ) to throw. 4) to shake. TWEN. TWENTY FIFTH EVENING. Several obstacles had occurred, by which the Father was prevented from continuing the narration. In the meau time. the society of the young people was increased by six new membres, wose names were: Mathew, Ferdinand, Con- rad, Jack, Christopher and Charles. Now there arose 7) a great bustle among the elder ones; which of them should relate to their new friends, what they had already heard of Robinson.. One knew this, and the other that part of the story, then again one had omitted a circumstance, and the other another, for which he was in- terrupted by a third, to fill up the chasm in the relation. Now as they thus all talked together, it occasion'd such a confused noise, that one could not hear one's own voice. To put an end to this confusion, the father saw himself obliged to relate the story over again, till he came to that period where he had left off. Then he continued to the ge neral satisfaction as follows: Now, my children, our Robinson is once more reco ver'd. The sleep, he enjoy'd over night in his tent, on real beds, has so refreshed bin, that he now stands again at break of day in his full bodily strength, pouring forth his praises to the almighty God for the preservation of his health and 7) to arise. 277 and life. The storm had continued raging the whole night, He had therefore waited for day light with impatience to see what was become of the wreck. At last the sun arose, and now he saw to his great sor row, that the wreck had quite disappeared. Single planks and beams, lying scatterd on shore, show'd, that it had been entirely dashed to pieces by the storm. At the sight of which he found himself happy in the consciousness of his having spared no trouble, to save as much of the cargo as ever had been possible; and happy is the man, who re- gulates his conduct so wisely, that on every occurring dis- agreeable accident, he can say to himself like Robinson: It is not my fault!" this consciousness greatly assu- ages things, that otherwise would extremely embitter our ,, hearts! Robinson and Friday now gather'd all the remaining pie ces of the ship, which they found on the strand, because they foresaw,, that every board and every plank would bə useful to them. They now formed a regular plan for their future occupations. The things were now to be conveyed to the castle; but to leave them alone, whilst they were removing them, seem'd dangerous. Robinson therefore disposed, that they should alternately watch the goods, and carry some to the castle on a wheel-barrow; and that one was to work in the morning and the other in the afternoon. He charged the guns and placed them near the seashore with their muzzles towards the sea. Then they made a fire, that was to be kept up by him, who stood sentinel by their guns, They had also a match in readineſs to fire them in case of need. Robinson made the beginning in removing the things to the castle. He now likewise put on a common sailor's dreſs, in order to spare the better sorts of clothes, and instead of Z his 278 his former arms, he now wore a) nothing but a cutlafs and a brace of loaded pistols in his girdle. He first took some small casks of gunpowder and other things, that were most liable to be spoiled by the rain; and thus he proceeded on his journey. The dog too, which never left him, was by no means a quite useless companion. Robinson had fasten'd a rope round his breast, which was again tied to the wheelbarrow, that he might assist his master by drawing. Now as spaniels are naturally very tractable, he soon got used to his new employment, and did his businefs as well, as if he had been an old cart. horse. He carried moreover a bundle between his teeth, which he had been taught to do before. At his return Robinson took all his tame lamas, that had already been used to carry burthens, to employ them in removing the goods. As there were seven of them, and each was able to carry one hunderd and fifty pounds weight, you may easily calculate, how much this whole caravan could transport at once. But as Robinson's cave was not spacious enough to con- tain so many things, they quickly pitched a second tent in the yard of the castle, to serve as a store-house in the interim, till they had more leisure. In the space of eight days the whole was removed, except a heap of boards, which they carried into a close thicket to be left there for the present. Charlotte. Why, Papa, you did not tell us any thing more about the goat?. Father. I had almost forgotten her. Well, the goat was taken along with them, as you may easily imagine, and put into the inclosure among the tame lamas, with which she agreed very well. to wear And 279 And now Robinson and Friday had agreeable occupations in abundance, so that they scarce knew, where to begin first. But Robinson, who loved an orderly and regular di- vision in his businefs, quickly distinguished between the more and lefs necessary occupations and proceeded first to the former. The most necessary of all was the building of a sted or a barn, to keep those things, for which they had по room in the cellar, more conveniently and safer, than could be done under the tent. Now the point was, to exercise themselves in carpenters-work, which indeed none of them had learned, But what could now be too difficult for our industrious and skillful Robinson, now that he saw himself in posses sion of all the tools he wanted? The most troublesome work which he had never been sccustomed to. was now a trifle to him, after he had succeeded in so many other things without either tools or assistant. He now felled trees, squari ed them, he joined and raised the beams, made the walls of bricks, and a double roof on them, one of boards and the other of cocao leaves; all this he did with surprising dispatch. Now the building was ready and bore some resemblance to the small dwellings of our country people. Our Robin. son had wisely brought the windows of the ship's cabin on shore with him; and these now served to enlighten the building without leaving any hole open. The glaſs was for Friday an object of particular admiration, because he had never seen any before, and he now perceived, what great conveniency it affords. Robinson now thought of contriving a convenient entrance into his castle without impairing the strenght of it. The making of a proper gate and drawbridge seemed to be the best method. Now being provided with every thing requi site as nails, chains, hinges, hasps, locks etc. in abun dance, Za 280 dance, he proceeded directly to the execution of his plan. First they made every thing ready; then they cut an ope ning in the wall, according to the size of the gate they had finished. Hereupon they raised and fixed the gate, and the bridge was so contrived, that, when drawn, it cover'd the whole gate. Then they placed their six pieces of can non loaded upon the wall so, that two commanded the right flank, two the left and two the front of the castle. And now they might be quite easy with respect to the attacks of the savages, and they had at the same time the convenien ce of a regular entrance into their habitation. It was now harvest time, and Robinson used his old sword instead of a sickle to cut down their maize; and to take out the potatoes, he employed a pickaxe, he found among the things, which he had fetch'd from the wreck. All their work went on without any difficulty with the help of these tools. It would have been a pleasure to have seen them, and a still greater to have joined in their work. Jack. I could wish to have been there, to assist them in their work! Dick. Oh, you need not go to a desert island for that! You may find work here as well. You'll see, what Papa gives us to do, when we have our leisure hours! Somes times we carry smail wood into the kitchen, then again we dig in the garden, or we carry water, to water the plants, or we weed oh! there is always enough to be done! Father. And for what purpose do I set you so to work? John. Why, to accustom us never to be idle, and be. cause it makes us healthy and strong! Christopher. Shall we work with you too, Papa? Father. Certainly. I shall not love you lefs, than the rest, and I shall consequently let you do every thing, which I look upon as an useful occupation! Char- 231 Charles. Oh that's excellent? Then we will be as dili- gent as Robinson. Father. Robinson, you know, found himself well in doing so; and we shall all of us experience more and more the happy consequences of an industrious life. Now the hardest work was over. Robinson next made two fails, taught Friday the use of them, and then they thrash ed all their maize in one day. They got two sacks full which is about two bushels. With biscuits they were well provided for some months. But against that time Robinson resolved to try to bake bread himself. He had brought a small handmill on shore with him. Thus he only wanted a fine sieve, to fift the flour, and an oven to bake the bread. He was obliged to contrive both. To make a sieve, he took some thin muslin, of which he had found a whole piece among the goods saved from the ship and he thought it no great difficulty to construct an oven. This work too he finish, ed before the approach of the rainy season. And now he made a double trial in baking; for he made some loaves of rye and some of maize flour. But the former seemed far more relishing; and now Robinson took his re- solution accordingly, which was: to sow most of his fields with rye instead of maize, that he sufficient stock of rye to make bread. require less work for him and Friday, they might have two crops in the course of the year. might always have a This also seemed to because in this island They still wanted something, which they had not found amongst the different articles on board, and which would yet have been very useful, I mean a couple of iron spades. It is true, Friday had made some of hard wood; but better is better, and people may do a great deal more with an iron spade, than with a wooden one. Now Robin» son being determined to make husbandry for the future his constant and chief occupation, it being the most agreeable Zs and 282 and useful business, he conceived the idea of constructing a forge, in order to make spades and other useful instru- ments too. This idea was not so extravagant, as it may perhaps aps pear to you; for every thing necessary to make a forge was to be found in his storehouse, There was an anvil and se= veral tongs, a pretty large pair of bellows, and as much old new iron , as would probably serve him all his life time. This resolution was executed immediately. By means of a larger roof above the kitchen, he enlarged it so much, that it might serve him as a shop to work in; even in rainy weather. They therefore employ'd part of the rainy season in smith's work; and even this succeeded ad- mirably after some miscarriages. When the spades were fi• nished, Robinson proceeded still further and tried, whether he could not invent a plough, suited to their strength. He succeeded and his joy was inexpressible. This plough was indeed very different from ours; it was nade of a crooked branch of a tree, at the one end of. which the plough share was fastened, together with the handle, by which the ploughman might guide it at his plea- sure; on the other end on the contrary the horses or oxen ought to have been harnassed, if they had any. But now this place was for one of themselves. In short this plough was made exactly as those the Greeks made use of, when they began to apply to husbandry. Ferdinand. That must have been a curious plough! Father. Perhaps lefs than you think. At first all instru ments were were as plain and as simple as this plough. By des grees men conceived mare advantageous contrivances, alter. ed, improved, and thus they continued to promote the atility and convenience of those things, which they wanted in their work. However Robinson had sufficient reason to be rejoiced at his T 283 his invention, particularly, as it was all his own work: for he had never seen any sketch of it. As far as we know, many centuries passed, before men even conceived the iden of inventing such a simple instrument, as this plough; and the inventors of it were considered by their posterity as such extraordinary wise men, that they paid divine worship to their memory. Do you still remember, John, whom the Egyptians look'd upon as the inventor of the plough? John. Oh yes! Osiris; whom on that account they afterwards worshipped as a God. Father. The Phoenicians attributed this useful invention to a certain Dagon, whom for that reason they also re- garded as an extraordinary being, calling him the son of heaven. Nicholas. But might not Robinson have used his lamas to draw the plough? Father. At first he doubted, whether they would be fit for it, becauce they seemed fitter for carrying, than for drawing. However he would not leave this matter untried; and lo! he succeeded beyond his hopes. These animals accustomed themselves to it by degrees; and at last this work succeeded so well, as if Robinson and Friday had been thorough paced husbandmen and the lamas axen or asses. Now they were in want of another instrument for the tile ling of their fields, which they could not well do without and which they had not found on board. Ferdinand. I know, what that was. Father. And what do you think? Ferdinand. A harrow. 2 Father. Very right! The land can not be well cultivated without it. This instrument breaks the clods, the seed falls into soft mould, and is covered with it.3 In the first place Robinson forged as many iron teeth as he thought necessary; and after some fruitlefs trials, be also ΖΑ 284 also completed the wooden frame, into which these iron teeth were to be driven. At last he bored as many holes in this frame as there should be teeth in the 'harrow, fixed them into it, and the harrow was made. The rainy season being over, he sow'd two bushels of rye, one bushel of barley, and half a bushel of pease; and after five months time he bad the pleasure of reaping twelve times as much, that is twenty four bushels of rye, twelve bushels of barley and six bushels of pease; which was much more than he and Friday could consume in six months. But like a prudent husbandman, he did not forget, that ke ought always to have a store of provisions of every kind, be. cause he might chance to have a bad crop, or it might be destroy'd by bail or any other accident. He therefore resolve ed to build a granary, in which he might always keep a provision for six months in case a crop should happen to fail. For this purpose they again pulled down the roof of their shed, whilst the weather continued fair, in order to make it one story higher, which was to serve as a granary. This indeed required more art and trouble than the ground floor had done, but their continued and indefagitable industry overcame all difficulties all difficulties; and the work was finished in a short time. During these occupations their goat had two kids, 60 that this kind of animals was also propagated in the island. The dog was their watchman; and Poll, the parrot, was their companion at table, sometimes also at their work. But the lamas were now more valuable to them, than ever : because they did not only afford them milk, cheese and butter, but helped them likewise to cultivate their fields. Thus to compleat Robinson's happineſs, there was nothing more wanting, than what do you think? Theophilus, To be with his parents! Fa. 285 ! Father. And that there were only two of them, one of whom must sooner or later be expected to die, and leave the other as a poor hermit separated from all the rest of mankind. But Robinson thought it to be wrong to embitter his life, by fearing misfortunes, that might possibly hap pen. God, thought he, who has hitherto provided for can help me further. And thus his life passed in uns disturbed contentment because he now possessed inward and outward tranquility. And may God grant every one of you that state of mind! me, To which the mother added: Amen! and the company withdrew. 76 TWEN. TWENTY SIXTH EVENING. Father. Now, my dear children, I have a great deal to relate to you this time! All. Oh excellent, excellentí Father. If only I can finish it in one evening! Somb. Oh! We will not interrupt you in your relation ; and then you will certainly finish it. Father. Well, I'll try. Prepare therefore for another dreadful scene, the event of which no body can foresee. (The children expressed their suppositions by their gess tures.) If I were to go on relating all what Robinson and Friday performed every day by the help of their tools, I believe, it would not greatly amuse you. John. Oh it would; but every one can easily imagine all that. Father. I shall therefore only tell you, that by degrees they succeeded so well in imitating the baker, the smith, the tailor, the shoemaker, the shoemaker, the carpenter, the joiner, the wheelwright, the potter, the gardener, the farmer, the hunter, the fisherman and many others, that they learned to make a hundred kinds of things, for which we indolent Europeans want the assistance of as ma ny different people. Their strength encreased in proportion as they exerted it; and during such continued useful occu- pa 28% : pations their minds grew still more serene and more cheer- ful. A proof, that God almighty must have purposely crea ted us, to be active, because it always makes us healthier, better and happier. They had now spent six months in such agreeable occua pations, during which time Friday never ventured to remind his master of their voyage to his country; tho', after their work was over, he would often ascend the hill, from whence he could see his native island and there he would stand in a profound revery, sighing at the misfortune of being perhaps for over separated from his father. Robinson oa the contrary did not speak of it on purpose, because he could not comply with the wish of his friend, till he had made the necessary preparations, which their new way of living required. Now when the most necessary things were done, Robin son was the first, to propose the building of an other boat, to fetch Friday's father. The joy of the good lad at this agreeable news was again as great, as lately, and he shew'd his gratitude towards Robinson in the same manner as be fore. Thus they began their work the very next morning and now they very naturally worked ten times faster and bet- ter than the first time, because they had now good hatchets to work with. One morning, whilst Robinson was very busy upon some domestic occupations, he bade Friday go to the sea shore to look for a turtle, as they had not for some time eaten of this agreeable food. He had not been long gone, but he returned in the greatest hurry almost out of breath with running and fright, so that with a stuttering voice he could only pronounce these words: There they are! there! Oh Robinson startled, and asked, who was there? Master! Master! answered Friday, one, two, three, six 288 ! six canoes!" In his fright he could not immediately recol lect the number six. six Robinson ran hastily up to the top of the hill, and saw, not without shuddering, what Friday had told him, canoes full of savages on the point of landing. Upon which he got down again, encouraged Friday, who was quite dismay'd and then he asked him: whether he was resolved to assist him faithfully, in case they should come to an en- gagement with the savages? ** With my blood and life ("he answer'd, being now come to himself again, and having summon'd up all his lour. Well then, said Robinson, we will try, whether we can not prevent these monsters from executing their hor. rible design. I'll tell you my intention as we go along; that is not the time to talk, but to act." Upon which he took one of the pieces of cannon, that was on a carriage, from the wall, fetched six loaded mus◄ kets, four pistols, and two swords. Each of them fasten'd two pistols, and a sword to his girdle, took three fire. locks on his shoulders, and after having provided them. selves with a sufficient quantity of powder and ball, they marched off, dragging the cannon after them. And thus the martial train went in silent and tremendous solemnity out at the gate. Having passed over the drawbridge, they halted. Then Friday was dispatched to draw up the bridge, to fasten the gate, and then to join his General by ascending the rope. ladder, that was still hanging down from the steep rock. Robinson took this precaution, that the enemy might not take possession of their castle, in case their undertaking should prove unsuccesful. And now Robinson explained to Friday his well concerted plan,, We will," said be, march round the hill thro' the thickest part of the wood, " that the enemy may not get sighs 289 sight of us. Then we will get as near them, as we possi- bly can, without being discovered, all along thro' the wood, which goes almost close to the shore, and when we are come to the skirt of it, we will fire a cannon-ball over their heads. (For which purpose he had taken a burns ing match along with him.) This will probably so terrify these barbarians, that they will relinquish their prey, and seek immediate shelter in their canoes. 17 Friday thought this supposition very probable. ,, Then," continued Robinson, ,, we shall have the sa tisfaction of saving those unhappy people, whom they in tend to roast, without shedding a drop of human blood. But if, contrary to all probability, we should be disappoint.. ed in our hopes: if these canibals should rely on their number, and make any resistance: then, dear Friday. we must shew that we are men, and face the danger, to which we have exposed ourselves with the best intention, God, who sees every thing, knows, why we venture our lives, and will certainly preserve them, if it be for our good His will be done!" Upon which he shook hands with his fellowcombatant, and both vowed, faithfully to assist each other to the last drop of their blood. In the mean time they had almost reached the skirt of the wood, as privately as possible, and now they stopped. Here Robinson whispered to his companion, to repair be. hind a thick tree, which he pointed out to him, with an little noise as possible, and to bring him word whether he could from thence overlook the enemy. Soon after he eame back and informed him, that they could be observed there perfectly well, that they were sitting about the fire gnawing the broiled limbs of one of the prisoners, whom they had already butchered: and that a second lay bound on the sand at a little distance from them, whom they des signed A a 200 1 A igned for their next feast; but he did not seem to be one of his nation, but a white bearded man. Robinson's soul was ready to sink within him upon hear ing of the white man. He had a perspective glafs in his pock- et, which he had found on board; with this he went soft. ly behind the tree, and there he discovered, what Friday had told him. Forty or fifty cannibals were close huddled together about a fire, and he saw plainly, that the re maining prisoner was an European. Now he could scarce contain himself. His blood began to boil, and his heart to beat; and if he had given way to the impulse of his passion, he would have immediately jumped forth, to fall upon them. But reason was stronger with him, than blind passion; thus he suffered himself to be led a) by the former, and check'd his indignation. As the wood in an other place jutted further out towards the shore, he took his stand there; planted his cannon behind the last bush, which had a small opening, thoʻ not to be discerned at a distance, and levelled it so, that the ball went over the heads of the savages, without hurting them. Then he whispered to Friday: to imitate him in every thing. Upon which he put down two of the muskets, keeping the third still in his hand; Friday did the same. Then he clapt b) the burning match to the touch hole of the can пор, and bounce! - it went off. The moment the report was heard, most of the savages fell down on the ground, as if they had been all shot at once. Robinson and Friday on the contrary in expectation of the eyent, stood ready for battle in case of need, In half a minute's time the stun'd savages rose again. The most Lears m) to lead," b) to clap, 291 fearful ran to their canoes, whereas the most courageous took up their arms. Unluckily they had neither perceived the flash of the potre der nor the ball passing over their heads; and had only heard the report. Their fright was therefore not so great as had been expected, and after having looked about them, and found nothing to frighten them again, they soon took courage; the fugitives returned: they all set up a most dread ful howl, and with the most horrible gestures and bran dishing their weapons, they began their usual wardance. Robinson was undetermined what to do, till the war- dauce was ended. But when he saw to his astonishment, that this savage company took their seats again, and that two of them were deputed to fetch the poor European, it was impossible for him to refrain any longer from action. He looked at Friday, and only whisper'd these words to him: Advance to the left, and I'll adyance to the right! And now in the name of God! At these words he gave fre at them; and Friday did the same. • Friday had taken his aim better, than Robinson; for five fell on the left, and only three on the right side of the fire. Three of them were really killed, and five only wound- ed. The consternation with which all those, that were not hurt, jumped up and ran off is not to be described. Some ran one way, and some the other, howling most dreadfully. Robinson was now ready to jump forth and defeat them en- tirely sword in hand, in order to save his poor countryman, that lay bound: but to his surprise he saw a party of the fugitives rally, and prepare to defend themselves. He there- fore took up the second fire-lock in the greatest hurry, and Friday did the same. „Are you ready?" said Robinson; and being answered in the affirmative, he gave a second volley and Friday follow'd his example. ! ·་ This time there fell but two, but some others that were A & o more 292 more or lefs dangerously wounded ran yelling and screaming about like mad creatures. Three of them fell down soon after, tho' not quite dead. Now, Friday!" cried Robinson, throwing down the musket he had just fired, and taking the third, that was still loaded,,, advance!" At these words they both rush- ed out the wood into the open plain, and Robinson first ran up to the poor victim, to acquaint him of his delive rance. When he came up to him, he perceived, that Bome of the fugitives stopt at the sight of him, rallied again, and prepared for battle. He made a sign to his companion, who presently understood him, ran a little nearer towards them, fired, and saw one of them fall. In the mean time Robinson cut the strings of rushes, with which the prisoner's hands and fest were tied in a most pitiful manner. Upon which he asked him in German and in English: who he was? and the prisoner answer'd him in latin: Christianus, a Christian! Hispanus, a Span iard! His faintness hiuder'd him from saying any more. Luckily Robinson had taken a bottle of wine in his bag, in case one of them, should be wounded, of which he gave the spaniard some to drink: and as he soon found himself strengthen'd by it, Robinson gave him one of his pistols and a sword, that he might help them to dispatch the rest of the enemy. Friday was in the mean time ordered to fetch the muskets, which they had fired off, that they might be loaded again. The Spaniard had scarce got the pistol and sword, when he fell furiously upon his enemies and in a thrice laid two of them sprawling at his feet. Friday took the sixth gun, that was still loaded, and ran to his assistance, whilst Ro- binson was loading the rest. The two champions found great resistance; and were soon separated; soon separated; whilst the spaniard and one of the savages got to close fighting, Friday, after having 293 having fired his piece, ran sword in hand, and drove c) Some be cut a whole swarin of the fugitives before him. down, some jump'd into the sea, in order to swim to their canoes, and others escaped into the wood. The Spaniard had in the mean time a fierce encounter. He had indeed, notwithstanding his weakneſs attacked the savage with so much courage, that he had already wounded him twice in the head: but now the savage grew enraged, and prest d) so violently upon him with his heavy sword of stone, that he was scarce able to parry off his blows, At last the savage got hold of him, flung him down, wrest- ed the sword out of his hands, and was just going to cut of his head with it, when Robinson, happily perceiving the danger, fired a ball thro' the cannibal's head. and besides most of them Scarce had the Spaniard got on his legs again, but he grasped one of the guns, that was again loaded, and went with Friday in pursuit of those, that had escaped into the wood. As these were but few, wounded, Robinson thought proper, to remain on the field of baule, rather than run after them, and to observe the motions of the rest of the enemies, who had now reached their canoes. In a short time his two fellow combatants re- turned with the account, that there was not one left in the wood. Both of them were immediately stepping into one of the canoes, which the savages had left, to pursue those, that were endeavouring to escape with all the sail they could make; but Robinson stopped them, saying: That's enough■ my friends We have already shed more human blood than we ought perhaps to have done. Let the rest live, as they have neither intention nor the power to hurt us any more. ,, But, *) to drive. 4) to prafs, 2g4 . Bot, said Friday, they will perhaps return in multitu- des and destroy us, if we let them escape!" Well, said Robinson, tapping him friendly on the should der, our army is now by one third stronger, than it was this morning, pointing at the same time to the spaniard. Now we can always face a whole legion of these wretches, especially if we wait for their attacks behind our walls and breast works. Charlotte. That was again very laudable in Robinson, not to kill the rest of the savages! Father. It was indeed well done; for it would have been cruel, to kill without the utmost necessity a single one of those poor creatures, who had not the least idea, that, what they did, was ill done; and who were even under the sad mistake, to think it something meritorious to kill and eat a great number of their enemies. Christopher. Oh, they might very well have known, that such actions are not allowed! Father. And how could they have known that, my dear Christopher? Christopher. Why, the least child knows, that it is not right, to kill and eat people! Father. But whence does the child know that? Because it has been taught 80, is it not true? Christopher. To be sure! Father. Now let us suppose, it had not been taught so? Suppose, even it's parents and other grown people, whom the child loved and honoured, bad from it's infancy always assured it, that murdering one's enemies and eating them was something meritorious Christopher. Nay, then- } Father. Then a child would hardly ever get a contrary idea, is it not true? Such a child would rather, as soon as it wag big enough, assist the rest in killing and eating. And 295 And this was the case with these poor savages. Happy tor us, that God almighty has not suffer'd us to live among them, but to be born of civilized parents, who taught us from our infancy, what is right and wrong, good and badt Our humane hero went now with tears of compassion in his eyes about the field of battle, to see, whether there were not ene among those, who was not lifelefs and who might be yet helped. But most of them were already dead, and the rest soon died, whilst he was pouring wine into their wounds, and endeavouring to and endeavouring to comfort them every possible way. There were in all twenty one dead. As to the victorious army, not a man of them had fallen, nay, not one of them was wounded; only the Spaniard was bruis'd by his fall, Matthew. But how did the savages get the Spaniard? Father. Robinson bas had no time yet to enquire after that; and therefore we must also suppress our curiosity till to morrow. All, What! finished already? A a 4 TWEN 1 t : TWENTY SEVENTH EVENING. Matthew. Well, Papa, how did the Spaniard get among the savages? Father. Have a little patience, and you shall hear it! Something else happen'd in the mean time, which I must first relate to you. John. Well, what can that be? Father. Robinson curious to examine one of the two ca. noes they had left behind, went to the place where it was, and to his great astonishment found another unhappy victima lying in one of them, bound hand and foot just as the Spaniard had been, with very little life in him. Robinson made haste to unbind him, and was going to lift him up. But he could either stand or speak, but whined piteously, thinking they weIS now going to butcher him. As this man was a savage and no European, Robinson cal- led Friday, who was then dragging the dead bodies toge ther, desiring him to speak to him in his own country- language. But Friday had scarcely looked fully in his face, when a scene ensued, which Robinson and the Spaniard could not behold without tears. Poor Friday was at once beside himself. He threw himself into the captive's arms, hugged him, cried, laugh'd, jumped about, danced, wept, wrung his hands, beat his face and breast, then cried again, and 297 and behaved in every respect like a distracted man, so that it was a great while, before Robinson could receive an answer to his repeated question. At length Friday utter❜d: He is my father. It is impossible to describe all the marks of extasy and filial piety of this good young man upon this occasion, Above twenty times he jumped out of the canoe and into it again. Then again he sat down, open'd his jacket, held his fa- ther's head close to his bosom, to cherish it; sometimes he chafed his arms and ankles, which were benumbed as the strings were tight; then again he embraced his neck or his waist, and cover'd him with caresses. Robinson, who had a little wine left in his bottle, gave it him, to wash his father's benumbed limbs; and then walked aside, to let him indulge his joy. When he returned a good while after, he asked him if he had given his father any bread? The rascal has eaten all!" answer'd Friday, pointing to himself. Upon wùich Robinson gave him his own breakfast, which he had still in his pocket, and Friday gave it to his father. He had scarce 'done so, but he flew e) like lightening out of the boat and ran off. Before Robinson could ask him, where he was going, he was out of sight. In a short time after he was seen returning, but much slower, than he had run away. When he came nearer, he was seen bearing an earthen jug with some water in one hand, and some bread and cheese in the other. The water he gave his father, and the bread and cheese to his master, to make amends for the breakfast he had given his father. The fresh water revived the old man surprisingly, be. cause he was almost fainting with thirst. Now Robinson hastened to the Spaniard, who lay quite A a 5 ex. *) to By. 298 exhausted on the grafs He desired Friday to give him something to drink, and offer'd him some bread and cheese to refresh himself. The Spaniard looked up to him with a friendly and grateful countenance; exerted himself to rise; but not possible; so great was the pain he felt in the knuckles of his hands and feet; that were extremely swell- ed by the hard binding. Friday was order'd to sit down by him, and rub and bathe his ankles with wine, as he had done his father's. it was - J whilst It was very moving to see, how this good son, he was employed' in this, turned his head every monent towards his father, to see how he did? When the old! man had once laid himself flat down, in order to rest the better, Friday flew to him, without saying a word, with Buch swiftneſs, that he was scarce seen to touch the ground; but finding, that his father only laid himself down zo ease his limbs, he returned immediately. Upon which Ros binson was going to try, whether he could not with Fri. day's assistance lead the spaniard to the boat in order to be conveyed to their dwelling: but Friday, being a young tout fellow, took the spaniard on his back, as if he had been nothing, and carried him alone to the boat. After they had carried their cannon, and the firelocks together with the arms of the slain into the other boat, Friday jump. led again into the first; and tho' it had begun to blow a Fresh gale, he row'd away with such rapidity, that Ro- 'binson, who walked along the shore, could not keep pace with him. Robinson had scarce got half way home; when he saw Friday running by him; to fetch the other boat; and before he got to the place, where the first boat was, with the sick men, Friday was back again with the second. So great was his dexterity in running and rowing. • Now they were opposite to their castle; and Robinson ran home to fetch a barrow, to carry the two sick men O n 299 On this they placed them one after the other, and thus they were transported to the castle. Oh, what a treasure for our Robinson, who longed to have more human creatures about him! How his heart palpitated for joy, when he reflected that for the future he needed not fear, to be reduced to the necessity of leading a solitary life again. His joy was sucly as to bafile all description. Now they both appeared in want of sleep, more than of any thing else. Whilst Friday was preparing a bed for each of them, Robinson warmed some wine, to wash their swelled ancles and knuckles. After which they were put to bed. And now our two hosts prepared a conifortable supper. Friday was order'd to fetch a young lama, and Robinson took care of the rest. He could not help smiling, when the thought came into his head, that he was now still more like an absolute king than before. He was master of the whole island; and his subjects, who all owed their lives to him, were entirely dependant on his will, and consequently obli- ged to venture their lives and blood for him in case of need. It was besides a very remarkable circumstance, that he had just as many different religious sects, as he had subjects in his dominions. Friday follow'd that cristian religion, which he had taught him, and which the Protestants profefs. (The Bigger of you know the signification of the word, and the younger will have patience, till they get more understand. ing, when when they shall hear it too). Thus Friday, as I said before, was a protestant, the Spaniard a roman ca- tholick Christian, and Friday's father still a Pagan. What is to be done in this matter?" thought Robinson to him. self. .39 Have not I a right to force them to profeſs that religion, which I think the best?" He reflected a while on this matter, because it was a thing, he had never yet thought of And what do you think now, my children, to which side of 300 of the question did his solid understanding incline? Had he a right to force his subjects to profefs his Religion, or not? All. Oh, in no respect. Father. Why not, pray? John. Why, because it is nothing to any body, what a person believes, if he does but live as he ought to do. Father. But if a superior is aware, that his inferior is in an error, should he then not have a right to force him, to renounce his error. Hans. Nay, what good would that do him? If he were forced to believe, that would neither make him any wiser nor better. Father. Very right! for violence can never convince him, that he was in an error before. And of what use can be professing a beliet, the truth of which we are not convin And then, how does the former know with such certainty, that the latter, whom he is going to force to embrace his belief, be in an error? could it not be possi bie, that he himself were mistaken? ced of? Hans. Oh yes, Father. Why? Hans. Besause all men are subject to errors. Father. Consequently no body must presume to think his opinion an infallible truth! Thus, my children, it belongs to God alone, as the only infallible Lord of all, to be the judge of our belief. He alone knows exactly, how much truth or error our opis nions contain; he alone knows exactly, with how much candour or levity we have searched after truth; he alone knows therefore, how far we are guilty or innocent in our errors. Our Robinson considered the matter nearly in the same light. Cursed, he therefore cried, cursed be that unreason. able 301 able zeal of converting any body over to one's religion by force! Cursed be the blind rage of persecuting and tortur- ing one's brother, only because he is so unhappy as to be in an error, and so virtuous, as to refuse professing any thing publickly, of which he is not convinced in his heart In my island at least this inhumanity shall never take place. I will indeed do all I can to instruct my subjets but if I should not be so happy as to convince them of their error, and of the truth of my religion: they may believe, what they can, and be answerable for it one day, not to ine their poor erring brother but to God almighty. He therefore resolved to grant every one of them liberty of conscience, in case, after proper instructions, they should not think fit to follow one and the same religion. Friday being now returned, they began to boil and roast. This day, said Robinson, must be a double festival, be- cause we have saved two of our brethren a) from the claws of tigers in human shape, and because you, Friday, have found your father. So the best we have, shall this day be served on our table! چه Friday needed no encouragement to be cheerful. He had never been so merry as to day. He sung, jumped and laughed incessantly; yet he performed what he had to do in the most nimble and orderly manner, and if people do so, mirth is no fault. 80, Now the two guests were awake. Tho' they felt some pain yet, they were nevertheleſs already so refreshed and strengthen'd, that they could get up with Friday's and Ro. binson's assistance, and sit at table. And now the old sa- vage appear'd as surprised, and astonish'd at the sight of all these european things, as his son has been, when he first saw them. ) i. q. brothers. B b Fri. 302 Friday served as interpreter, whilst Robinson conversed with his father and the Spaniard. Ferdinand. Did he understand spanish? Father. No! But the Spaniard, But the Spaniard, who had already lived six months among the savages, understood so much of their country -language, that he could understand him. The chief contents of his story were as follows: وو Our ship was employ'd in the negro- trade. We were returning from the coast of Africa, where we had barter'd some gold dust, ivory and negroes for all kinds of Euro- pean goods. We had taken an hundred slaves on board, who were to be carried to Barbadoes and sold 6) there. But twenty of them died, because they were pack'd together like salt berings in a tub. A continual violent storm had driven us from our course to the coast of Brasil, and our ship having sprung e) a leak, we durst not keep the main sea, but coasted along the continent. Suddenly we were overtaken by another gale from the west, which drove d) us with great fury from the continent, and cast us during the night on some rocks near an island. We fired several guns, and were resolved to stay on board as long as we possibly could. We set the blacks free, that they might assist us in pumping; but they searce saw themselves freed from their incumbrance, but they unanimously seized our boats, to save their lives and liberties. " What was to be done? to force them, was impossi• ble for there were only fifteen of us, whereas there were eighty of them, and besides many of them had seized our arms. But staying on board of a stranded vessel without a boat, was exposing ourselves to certain death. We there. fore had recourse to intreaties, and endeavour'd to prevail on those, who a short time before had been our slaves, either B) to sell. 6) to spring. d) to drive. 303 either to stay with us, or at least to take us with them. And here I can not help praising the generosity and huma. nity of these poor slaves. Tho' they had been used very hard, yet they were moved with compassion towards us, and gave us leave to come down to them, on condition, that we should take no arms along with us. We accepted their proposal, and got down into the boats, that were ΠΟΥ so overloaded, that we expected to sink every mo- ment. "We were however endeavouring to reach the neighbour ing island; bnt the wind shifting suddenly, drove us, in spite of our utmost exertions in rowing, back to the main sea. Our destruction now appeared no longer a matter of doubt. But these overcharged boats, tos sed about by the waves, carried us, to our great astonishment safe over the sea, till we were at last quite unexpectedly thrown on a quite unknown island, the poor inhabitants of which re- ceived us with uncommon kindneſs. ,, Among these we have hitherto lived, every one as well as he could: indeed but miserably, because these poor savages have nothing themselves, but some fish, which they catch, and a few fruit, which grow in their island. Yet they let us share in what they had, and instructed us, how to catch fish ourselves. Our blacks were most satisfied with this way of living, because they were accustomed to no better, and also because they had recover'd their li- berty. Some days ago the island was invaded by a neighbour. ing nation. Every one took up arms, and we too thought it our duty to assist our good benefactors. I fought e) by the side of this honest old man, who, like a lion deprived of his young ones, threw himself into the middle of the Bb 2 one- e) to fight. 304 enemy. I saw him surrounded, ran to rescue him, and had the misfortune to be taken with him. " We have past two days and two nights in this dismal captivity, bound hand and feet, without eating or drink- ing. For they threw f) nothing but rotten fish before us which the sea had cast up. ,, This morning at break of day we were dragged into the canoes, in order to be conveyed by these monsters to an other place, where according to their custom, we were to be butcher'd. But divine providence sent you, generous men, for our preservation, and you conferred on us a bene. fit, which we shall never be able to requite." Here the Spaniard stopt, and tears of gratitude bedewed his cheeks. Robinson was very glad to find his late con. jectures so entirely confirmed, and Friday admired with him the wisdom and goodneſs of divine providence. The Spaniard on being asked, who was the real owner of the cargo, answer'd, two merchants in Cadix; but one of them only had given orders to buy slaves on the coast of Africa; but the other, detesting this trafic, only desired to have gold dust for his good. Hereupon Robinson took the Spaniard by the hand, led him into his store house, then into his cave, and shew'd him, to his great astonishment, the most valuable effects of the stranded vessel stowed in these places. Friday was desired to tell him the particulars of it; and the Spaniard's surprise was so great, that he could scarce utter a word. Upon which Robinson enquired further, for whose ace count the diamonds had been, and to whom the officer's uniform had belong'd, which he had found on board? and he was informed, they had been the property of an English fficer, who had been many years in the Eastindies, f) to throw and who 305 who was taken so ill on his return home,, that on his de- sire he had been put on shore, on the coast of Africa where he died. He had desired them to take his effects to Barbadoes, from whence they were to be sent to England. -Now Robinson shew'd the Spaniard all the papers he had found on board; by which he learnt the name of the mer- chant, to whom the gold dust pertained, as also that of the officer's widow, to whom the diamonds and the clothes of her deceased husband were to be restored. From that moment Robinson looked upon the gold dust, diamonds and papers. as if they had been something sacréd. It was now evening, and the fatigues and dangers of the day had so much exhausted all their strength, that they longed for the beneficial refreshment of sleep sooner, than usual. They therefore did, what we will do, after hav. ing thanked God for the uninterrupted tranquillity and hap- pinefs, which he has again granted us this day. B b s TWEN. TWENTY EIGHTH EVENING. Father. Early the ensuing morning Robinson summon'd his whole Empire together, in order to perform by the help of their united strength a busineſs, which could not be postponed. Hans. What was that? Father. The bodies of the slain were still lying on the field of battle, and it was to be fear'd that their noxious exhalations might infect the air and cause a dangerous sick. nefs. Every one therefore took a hatchet, and thus they went to the dreadful place. Ferdinand. With hatchets ? Father. Yes; not to dig graves, for then they would have taken shovels and spades, but to cut wood, and make a pile, on which they intended to burn all the bodies to ashes. John. As the Romans used to do with their dead! * Father. And many other nations of old. Robinson was resolved, not to follow the example of his very imprudent countrymen in this particular, who were at that time still inconsiderate enough, to bury their dead in the midst of towns, nay, deposited them even in churches, where they exhaled plagues and death to the living. Matthew. Why, they do so still? Father. Yes, indeed! That is another example, how hard 307 hard it is for men to abolish bad customs. Therefore I advise you so often, to endeavour to become wise and good. For if we have once accustom'd ourselves to follies and vices, it is then hard, very hard, to get rid of them again, though we are sensible, that they are pernicious. that the stench of dead but do people not still Every one knows in our times, bodies is poisonous to the living: continue nevertheleſs to bury them in churchyards, or even deposite them in vaults in the churches, where they are not even cover'd with mould? Perhaps half a century must elapse, before they will seriously think of abolishing this bad custom. Hans. I wish I had some authority; and it should soon be abolish'd! Father. This my dear Hans, ought to be one of the chief motives to induce you and all other young people, to acquire a great deal of merit because your fellow citizens will then place great confidence in you, and confer on you dignities, which will entitle you, to abolish many hurtful abuses and introduce many useful regulations. Heaven seems to have destined you all, to be such men of importance, as may be a blessing to the whole society of their fellow citizens: for kind providence has bestowed on you all, what is requisite for that purpose. You are born of good, honest parents, who enjoy the esteem and confidence of their fel- low citizens; you have a sound constitution, and the po wers of your mind have not been neglected, and besides you are receiving an education, which few men can boast of. Thus bountiful Heaven has granted you every thing nei cessary to become worthy and powerful men. It would be a shame for any of you to frustrate these hopes. as I Yet I do not fear that. If you should therefore, hope you will, attain to your great destination; if you should come to be such men, as have influence on the B b 4 hap. 38 happinefs of thousands: oh, then do not neglect to use entrusted to you, to lessen the evil the authority, entrusted to you, : and to promote the good among your brethren, and to diffuse joy and happineſs about you! Then remember the occasion of the paternal admonition, which I give you to day, and if possible, prevail on your fellow citizens, to bury their dead in such places, where their exhalations may not be noxious to the health of the living $). Nicholas. When I go to town, I shall explain it to my grandpapa and to my uncle; they will be able to do some thing in it. Now Robinson and his companions having burned the corpses returned home. Friday had in the mean time in. formed his father, that civilized people eat no human flesh, which at first he could not well conceive. But Friday hav. ing repeated to him every thing, he had learned of his master on the subject, in a short time made him have an abhorrence against such an inhuman practice. Robinson gave this old man the name of Thursday, because he had been in the world before his son; and thus we shall call him for the future. Upon which Robinson summon'd them all to council, at which Friday served again as an interpreter to the Spaniard as well as to old Thursday. Robinson, as being their chief, open'd the session with the following short speech: >> My good friends, as we are liere assembled, we find ourselves in the possession of every thing necessary for a com. The father had the satisfaction of seeing the unexpected good ef- fects of this passage a few weeks after the first publication of this book. A generous friend to children, who lay very ill of the con- sumption, desired to have this little book read to him a few days before his death and when they came to the above mention'd pas- sage, he desired accordingly to be buried out of town. This was at first greatly objected to by the common prejudices; but the re- quest of the dying gentleman was more respected by the worthy re- lations, than the senseless reasonings of the multitude. His request was fulfilled. } 3og commodious and happy life. But I for my part shall not be able to enjoy this blessing with an easy mind, as long as there are men, who have a greater right to it than I, and who are nevertheleſs obliged to pine away their lives in want and misery. I mean your country men, the Spaniards, my european friends, who are still among the savages. I wish therefore, that every one of you would give his opi nion concerning the proper means of bringing those unfortu nate people hither?" FR Here he stopt; and every one now gave his opinion. The Spaniard offer'd to fetch them alone in one of the canoes, which they had taken. Old Thursday was ready to do the same. Friday on the contrary advised, that his old father should remain, and that he might be permitted to accom pany the Spaniard. Now as this caused a generous contest between them, one being as ready as the other to venture his life: Robinson saw himself obliged to decide the mat ter, to which they all submitted with becoming obedience; and he commanded, that Thursday and the Spaniard should go, and Friday remain with him. Charles. Why did not he rather send Friday, than the poor old man? Father. Parily from his affection to Friday, whom he could not possibly and without trembling, expose to any danger, in which he was not a partaker, and partly, bes cause the old man seemed to be better acquainted with the sea, than his son. The Spaniard on the contrary was obliged to go, because his country men would probably not have ventured to come on Robinson's invitation only. · It was therefore agreed, that these two should in a short time go over. But previous to that, care was to be taken, that at least ten times as much land should be taken in and cultivated because the increase of their colony would have the certain consequence, that they should every day want more provisions, Bb5 There 310 Therefore they all tarned farmers for some weeks, and as every one worked with a good will, their labour went on very well and very fast. In a fortnight every thing was ready, and now they prepared for their intended voyage. But before their departure the Spaniard gave a proof of his honesty and grateful affection towards Robinson, which at the same time shew'd his circumspection. He said: his country men were common sailors like himself, consequent. ly people without education. He did not know them suffi ciently to be answerable for their good characters. His ad vice therefore was: that Robinson that Robinson, as Lord of the island, should first draw up certain conditions, on which they should be received, and that he would bring none, but those, who submitted to them. Robinson was rejoiced at the fidelity of his new subject, and acted according to his advice. The conditions he drew up were as fellows: Whoever desires to live in Robin. son's island, and share in the conveniencies it affords, must consent. 99 1) To act in every particular according to the will of the lawful Lord of the same, and willingly submit to all the laws and regulations he shall think necessary to be made for the good of the whole state; a) To lead a laborious, frugal and virtuous life; because no lazy, prodigal or vicious man of any kind is to be tolerated in this island; 3) To abstain from all quarrels and disputes, and in case of any offence, never to be his own judge, but bring his complaints before the Lord of the island, or before him, whom he shall appoint to be judge; 4) To perform all the occupations necessary for promoting the good of the whole, without murmuring, and in necessity assist the Lord of the island with his life and blood; 5) 311 * 5) Unanimously to oppose him, who shall dare to trans- grefs any of these equitable laws, and either to reduce him to obedience, or to banish him for ever from the island. Every one is admonished to reflect seriously on these ar ticles, and sign his name under them, instead of an oath, after being fully resolved, to live accordingly in every respect. • Robinson. The Spaniard was desired to translate these laws in his own country language, and it was agree'd that he should take pen and ink along with him, that his country meu might sign them, before they embarked. - And now they chose the best of the canoes, which they kad taken from the enemy and prepared for their voyage. Conrad, But was there room enough for all the Spaniards in one canoe? Father. No! But they wanted this small boat only to go over; for they might return in the boats of the stranded ship, which, as the Spaniard assured them, were still in a very good condition. When a sufficient quantity of provisions was carried into the boat, and the wind being favourable, they took an affectionate leave of Robinson and Friday, and set sail. The latter was excessively grieved, when he saw himself obliged to part with his dear father. Even the day before their de parture he had wept whole hours, and could neither eat or drink any thing for grief. But now, at the very moment of their separation, he was quite inconsolable. Every now and then he embraced his father and bedew'd his face with his tears. The old man was at last forced to tear himself from bin; but when he was already in the boat and had left the shore, Friday jumped into the sea and swam to the side of the boat, to shake hands with him once more and to 312 ་י, to sob a last farewell. Upon which he returned to shore, placed himself on a small eminence, and looked after the boat sobbing and weeping, till he had lost sight of it. Robinson, who wished to divert his grief, employ'd most part of that day in hunting and walking over the moun. tains with him. They had not gone far, before the dog, that had follow'd them, stopped at the foot of a rock, overgrown with bushes, and fell g) a barking. They ap. proached the place, where they found a hole in the rock, which was only large enough for a man to creep, but not to walk erect into it, Robinson, who did not like to leave any thing unexa▪ mined, that had once drawn his attention, desired his companion to try, whether he could not get into the hole. Friday obey'd. But he had scarce put his head in when he started back, roaring most hideously, and ran away like a madman, without minding Robinson's calling him. At length Robinson overtook him, and with some surprise enquired after the cause of his flight. Oh! oh! answer'd Friday, scarce able to speak, let us run, dear master, as fast as we can; >> there is a most dreadful monster in that hole, with large fiery eyes, and a mouth big enough to swallow us both alive! Well, that must be a very large mouth; but I must see the monster too." ,, , no, " Oh! oh!" cried Friday, falling on his knees before him: for Heaven's sake, do not such things. It will certainly devour you, and then poor Friday would have has he then no master!" Robinson answer'd smiling devoured you?" and as he could not answer this question in the affirmative: be ordered him to run home and fetch the lantern. He himself returned to the hole and stood sen. tinel with his gun loaded. g) to fall. » And ZIZ "f And what in all the world, thought he, can have terrified. Friday in such a manner ? a wild beast? a lion, a lion, a tiger, a panther or any such thing? Nay, if that were, I should commit a rash action by creeping into the hole. But if there were any such animals, I should have known that long ago. And then Friday would not have escaped unhurt! No, no! it can not be that; his timidity has again imposed on him, and made him see something, that does not exist. I must therefore examine it, to cure the good lad of this child- ish passion," In the mean time Friday returned with a burning candle in the lantern, and tried again with tears in his eyes to prevail on his master, not to expose himself to such an immi. nent danger, in which he would certainly perish. But Ro- binson was a stranger to fear, as soon as he had maturely considered a thing; and could therefore not be withheld k) from his purpose. He begged Friday to be courageous took the lantern in his lelt, and a loaded pistol in his right hand, and thus he boldly went to face the adventure. > He had scarce put his head in, when he discover'd so- mething by the feeble light of the lantern, that made him studder. But yet he would not run away directly, but stretched out his hand with the lantern to view this un- known monster more distinctly. And then he saw, that it was neither more nor lefs, than an old he-lama, just ex- piring with age and infirmity. After having looked round about him, and perceived nothing but this very harmleſs animal, he crept entirely into the cavern and called Friday to follow him. Friday trembled, like an aspen leaf; yet he could not find it in his heart to forsake his master. He therefore took the generous self-denying resolution, of creeping in after h) to withhold. i) to creep. Сс kim, 314 him, and now he saw to his astonishment, how greatly he had been mistaken in the bignefs of the eyes and mouth of this animal. Do you see now, Friday, cried Robinson to him with a mild voice, how timidity can deceive us? Where are now those large fiery eyes? Where is the monstrous mouth, which you thought you saw before. Friday. It really appear'd to may, I could have sworn k) it. me, as if I saw them; Robinson. I don't doubt, but it appear'd so to you; but you ought to have known, that timidity is a liar, and makes us see many things, that do not exist. Believe me, Friday, this is the foundation of all old women's stories about hobgoblins, and I know not what other nonsense! The authors of these insipid tales were fearful old women or cowardly men like them, who, exactly like you, ima- gined to see something, that does not exist, and who af terwards, just as you, would have sworn, really seen such things. Be a man, Friday; that they had look twice an other time, and banish from your heart all womanish tie midity! Friday promised to do his best. In the mean time the old lama expired, and Robinson endeavoured with Friday's assistance to get him out of the hole and to bury him. And now they examined the place, where they were, with greater attention, and found it to be a very spacious and agreeable grotto or cave, which for the future would be very useful to them. It appeared as if hewn by art, it was dry and cool, and the walls, that seemed to be of crystal, reflected the light of the lantern on all sides with as much splendour, as if they had been lookingglasses. Robinson instantly resolved, to convert this agreeable }) to cwear. grollo 315 grotto into a place of refreshment against the sultry heat of the sun, and at the same time use it as a cellar for such things, as would be spoiled by the excessive heat. This place was happily not above a quarter of an hour from his castle. Friday was therefore desired to run immediately for the necessary tools. With these they began afterwards a regular door before it. And this work afforded a very agres able employment during the absence of the two others. Ce & TWEN TWENTY-NINTH EVENING. Nicholas. Every time that Papa is going to continue his narration, I am afraid Father. Of whar, dear Nicholas? Nicholas. That the story will soon be finished. Theophilus. If I were in Papa's place, I would make it so long, oh so long, that it should not finish at all. Father. All our joys here on earth have one day an end, and this consequently likewise. You will therefore do well to be prepared for it before hand. There is again a storm rising on Robinson's horizon, the issue of which 1 cannot answer for. Be therefore on your guard. • ".. Eight days were already past, and no sign of the deputies,. so that they began to be impatient for their return. Friday ran every day above twenty times up the hill or to the shore, and wearied his eyes in looking out after thein without success. One morning, whilst Robinson was busy at home, he came full speed singing and jumping, and cried from afar to his master: they are coming! they are coming! Robinson no leſs rejoiced at this agreeable news, after having taken his perspective glafs, ran upon the hill. Here he really saw at a very great distance a considerable boat standing in for their island; but when he had examined A things 317 things a little nearer, he shook 2) his head, and said Fris day, Friday, I fear, you are mistaken! Friday turned pale, saw, Robinson looked a second time and appear'd still more astonish'd. At last he could no longer doubt of what he and therefore communicated his own alarms to his affrighted companion: Friday, said he, those people are not our Spaniards with your father; it is an English sloop (a large boat), and I perceive armed Englishmen in it! Fri- day trembled in all his limbs. Follow me, said Robinson going hastily to another eminence, from whence they could overlook the northern coast. พ They had scarce reached the top of the hill, and turned their eyes towards the sea, when they both stood speechless and as petrified. For they saw at a distance of about a league an English vessel at anchor. Surprise, fear and joy alternately seized Robinson's soul; joy at the sight of a ship, that might perhaps be the in strument of his deliverance; surprise and fear on the con trary at the real intention of her coming to these coasts. She could not have been driven hither by a storm, for there had been no storm many weeks since. Neither could she have directed her course this way, for what could make an English captain come to these parts of the world, where the English had no settlements, and consequently no trade. He therefore apprehended, that they might be pirates. Frederic. What sort of people are they? Father. There are still men here and there, who have been so ill instructed in their youth, as not to know that robbing is a crime. These wretched people therefore do not scruple to take away other people's property either privately or by open violence, and make it their own. If this be Cc3 done 1) to shake. 518 done by land, such people are called thieves or or robbers; if it be done by sea, they are called pirates. Christopher. But these were Englishment in case Father, So they appeared to be indeed, but Robinson thoughts who knows, whether those wretches, they be pirates; have not perhaps taken this vessel by for- ce, and then dressed themselves, in English cloathing During the first helpleſs years of his solitary abode in this island, he would have thought it a happineſs, to fall in with pirates, and be carried away by them as a slave, on. ly to get among his own species again. But now, condition was much happier the danger of falling into the hands of such villains made him shudder. He therefore im. parted his apprehensions to Friday, and they both went to observe the motions of those, that were approaching in the boat. as his They ascended an eminence cover'd with trees and un. derwoods, from whence without being seen themselves they could observe all what passed. They saw the sloop, in which there were eleven men, land about half a mile from them on the beach. The whole crew went on shore. Eight of them were armed, but three not. These latter, who were fetter'd, were set at liberty, as soon as they came on shore. One could perceive by the pitiful looks of one of them, that he was solliciting those that were ar med; for he fell on his knees and used the most passionate gestures of entreaty, while the two others lifted up their hands to heaven every now and then, as if they were ima ploring God, to help and deliver them. Robinson was very much astonished at this sight, as he did not know, the meaning of it. But Friday approached him with an air of triumph, saying: Do you see, Master, your countrymen eat their prisoners too? Get away, ans- wered Robinson with some indignation, that they will not! and 319 and thus ne continued observing them thro' his perspective glafs. With abhorrence he observed some of the armed men lifting their swords upon those, who lay in a supplicating posture before them. At last he saw them leave the prisoners alone, and scatter about the woods. All three sat down in one place with looks of sorrow and despair. This reminded Robinson of his own deplorable si tuation the day when he was first thrown on this island, and he resolved at all events to assist these unhappy peo. ple, if they should deserve it. Friday was therefore order'd to fetch as many fire-locks, pistols, swords and as much ammunition, as he could carry. Christopher. What is ammunition, pray? Father Powder and balls. Robinson thought proper to stay where he was, to observe, what they would fur- ther undertake. Friday was back in a short time, and when every thing was ready and their pieces loaded, they observa ed with pleasure, that the straggling sailors lay down in the shade, one here and another there, to sleep away the sultry heat of the noon - sun. Robinson waited a quarter of an hour longer; then he went boldly up the three unhappy men, who were still sitting on the same spot, with their backs towards him. Being near enough he cried who are you? at which they started, as if they had been thunder- struck. They sprung up, as if they were going to fly from him; hut Robinson called to them in english, to fear nothing for he was come to deliver them! Then you must be from heaven!" said one of them, respectfully pulling off his hat and staring at him. All help is from Heaven, said Robinson; but quickly tell me, good people, of what nature your misfortune is, and how [ Cc4 can 320 can help you?,, I was master of yon ship," answer'd the "15 a other; this man is my mate, and that gentleman, passenger, pointing to his companions. „My men have mutinied, and taken possession of the ship. At first they intended to murder me and these two honest men, because they did not approve of their conduct; at last however, they were prevailed on to spare our lives. But the mercy they shew us is even more cruel, than death itself. For they have now exposed us on this desert island, where we are sure to perish with want and misery." 55 On two conditions," said Robinson, my life and blood for your deliverance!* وو 09 I will venture What are they, generous man?" said the captain. ,, In the first place," answer'd Robinson that you shall enti rely conform to my orders, as long as you stay in this is. land; and then that you carry me and my companions to England, in case I succeed in putting you again in posses- sion of your ship." ,, We, the ship and every thing on board of her," re plied the captain,,, are entirely at your disposal." " Well then," said Robinson, here is a firelock and a sword for every one of you, on condition, that you do not use them, till I judge it necessary. Your enemies are all asleep, one here and another there, let us there fore try, if we can get them in our power without shed. ding any blood.” They set forward, and Friday was ordered to take the ropes, with which the three men had been bound. Now they came up to the first sailor, who lay on his face, and was so fast asleep, that they seized him by his hands and feet, and crammed a handkerchief in his mouth, before he was well awake. They tied his hands bebind his back, ordered him to remain on the same spot without stirring, or 321 or without uttering a single syllabe, otherwise they would blow his brains out directly. They had laid him with his face turned towards the sea, so that he could not know, what happened to his comrades. 1er. Now they went up to the second, who shared the same fate. He was tied, placed and threaten'd in the same man- Fortune or rather Divine Providence appeared on this occasion the Protector of innocence and Avenger of wrongs. There were already six of these wretches tied in the same manner, when the last two of them suddenly awoke, sprung up, and took their arms. Wretches, cried Robin look at your companions, see our superiority, and surrender this moment! a minute's delay will cost you your lives." son, "Oh mercy! mercy! captain!" they cried, throwing down their arms and falling on their knees. Upon which they were tied like the rest and conducted prisoners to the lately discovered cave, where they were informed, that the first, who should venture to break the wooden door, should be directly shot by the centinel, who was to be left there. All their knives were taken from them, before they were left alone. After this Robinson and Friday with their new allies went to the sloop, heaved it entirely on shore by means of some levers, and broke a hole in the bottom of it, to render it quite unfit for an immediate use. Ferdinand. Why did they do so? Father. They foresaw, that the people on board would dispatch a second boat, in case the first did not return. They would therefore prevent them from taking the first back again with them. Their suppositions proved true. Towards three in the afternoon a gun was fired on board, to recall the sailors, who were on shore. This signal not being answer'd after being 322 being repeated three times, a second boat put off from the ship towards the island. Upon which Robinson retired to the eminence with his companions, in order to see, what was further to be done. The boat landed. The men ran up to the first boat and their surprise was excessive at finding it on dry land and a hole in it. They looked about, called their comrades by their but no body answer'd. They were ten in number, names, all armed. ވ Robinson, who had been informed by the captain, that there were three honest lads among the prisoners, who were forced into the conspiracy, dispatched Friday and the mate to fetch them in all possible haste. They arrived, and the captain, who bad in the mean time imparted his de- sign to Robinson, after some reproof, asked them whether they would be faithful to him, in case he pardon'd them? », Till death!" they answer'd trembling, and falling on their knees. The captain continued: I have hitherto known you as good lads; I will therefore believe, that you had no share in the mutiny, and that by your greater fidelity, you will make amends for your past conduct. The three Bailors wept m) aloud for joy and gratitude, and kissed the captain's hand with the strongest marks of repentance. Upon which he gave them back their arms and bade them obey the orders of their common chief with exactness. The crew of the second boat had in the mean time con - tinued halloing and firing by turns, in hopes that their straggling comrades would return. At last, finding that all was in vain, they seemed towards night fall to grow ap- prehensive for themselves, and rowed about a hundred yards from the shore, where they cast anchor. Now it was to be feared, lest they would in a short time go back to the a) to weep. 323 the ship, and the whole crew would then give up their comrades for lost, and set sail; a reflexion which filled both the captain and Robinson with anxiety. Luckily the latter had an idea, which promised them a great success. He ordered Friday and one of the sailors to run to a woody place, about some thousand paces from the boat, and from thence to answer, when any of the crewd halloed. As soon as they perceived, that they lis- tened to their call and were coming on shore, they were by degrees to retire further into the wood, and decoy the sailors after them as far as possible. Then they were to re◄ turn to them by another way with the utmost speed. This well contrived stratagem succeeded completely. The sailors in the boat had no sooner heard a voice answering them, but they rowed in all haste towards the ahore, and with their firelocks in their hands ran towards the place from whence they beard the voice. Two of them were left behind to look after the boat. Friday and his companion performed their busineſs admiş rably well; for they decoyed the sailors almost two miles up into the woods. Then they returned with all speed to join their commanders. Robinson had in the mean time com- municated his whole plan to the captain, which was again to endeavour to get the whole crew in their power, without shedding blood. During this time it grew quite dark. Robinson and his companions advanced towards the boat as softly as possi ble, and were now only about twenty paces from it, withe out being in the least observed by the two sailors, who guarded it. Upon which sallying forth with a dreadful noise and a loud clattering of their arms, they threaten'd to kill and destroy them, if they dared to stir. The two sailors begged for quarter, were seized and had their hands bound. This 524 This being done, they made haste to drag this boat likewise a good way up the beach, and retired with their two priso- ners into the neighbouring wood, to wait for the return of the rest. These however did not all come at once, were exceedingly fatigued with their fruitless rambles. Their astonishment and lamentations at the lofs of their boat were and unspeakable. As there were five of them, one of the sai. lors, that had been pardon'd, was sent to ask them: whe ther they would immediately and by fair means lay down their arms and surrender? If not, the governor of the is land bad fifty men posted at a small distance from them, who were to kill them immediately adding that their boat was taken, all their comrades were prisoners, so that they had no choice left, but either to surrender or die. Hereupon Robinson ordered all his companions to make a clattering with their arms. to confirm the report of the sailor. May we hope for pardon?" cried one of them at last; to whom the captain called without being seen: Thomas Smith, you know my voice: lay down your arms immediately, and you shall all have your lives granted, except Atkins: for he had been one of the ring-leaders of the mutiny.. and That moment they all fung down their firelocks, Atkins cried out: Oh! for God's mercy sake, captain, what have I done more than the rest who have been as bad as I. Oh, pardon!" pardon!" The captain answer'd: all he could do, was, to intercede for him with the governor. What effect that would have, he must wait to see. Then Friday was sent with the sailors to tie their hands. In this interval the three last arrived likewise, and as they saw and heard, what had happen'd, they did not venture to make any re- eistance, and suffer'd their hands to be bound likewise. Now the captain and Robinson, who was looked upon #9 211 officer of the Governor, came up, and the former chose 325 chose such from among the prisoners, as he thought capa. ble of sincerely repenting the crime they had committed. These were led ) to the entrance of the castle, and the rest to the grotto. Two of those, who were already in the cavern, were alto fetched back, because the captain thought them equally disposed to return to their duty. What he did with them, and what further happer'd will be the object of our next conversation, «) to lead, D d THIR THIRTIETH EVENING. Father. Now, my children, the adventures of our Robins son draw near to end. His fate will be decided in a few hours; we shall see, whether he must remain in his island, without hopes of any deliverance, or whether his ardent wish of seeing his parents again, will be granted him at length? The only question is, whether or not the captain can recover his ship with the assistance of those sailors, whom he has pardon'd? If he does, all the miseries of our friend are at an end, if not, every thing remains as it was, and he must renounce any deliverance. There were ten of those pardon'd sailors now assembled before the castle. Robinson informed them, in the name of the governor, that their crime should be pardon'd, on condition of assisting their lawful master in recovering the ship. They all gave the most solemn assurances, that they would willingly and faithfully submit to this condition. Ro binson now added, that by this means they would not only save their own lives, but the lives of their comrades, who were still in confinement, and who, if the ship was not re- covered, were all to be hanged the next morning at break of day, without any distinction. This 327 This sentence was likewise communicated to the priso ners. Then the criminals were brought to an interview with those that were released, in order to confirm the fidelity of the latter by their intreaties. In the mean time the carpen ter was ordered to repair the first boat with all possible haste; this done, they were both again put to sea. Upon which it was agreed, that the captain should command one, and the mate the other, the crew being divided between them. They were all provided with arms and amunition, and Robinson having shaken hands with the captain wished him success in bis undertaking. The boats went off. Was Nicolas, I wonder, that Robinson did not go with them! Father. It was not timidity, but prudence, that retained him, dear Nicolas. In his absence the prisoners might ha ve broke loose, they might have taken possession of his castle; and this only secure retreat, which at the same time contained all the means of his happiness, was too impor tant, to be exposed with so much levity. Even the captain advised him to stay there wit Friday, to defend that places Robinson, whose destiny was now to be decided too agitated in his mind to be easy anywhere. Sometimes be sat down in his cave, sometimes he mounted on the wall, then again he went up his ropeladder, to hearken from the top of the hill during the stillness of the night, whether he could not hear any thing from that quarter where the ship lay. Tho' he had not tasted a morsel the whole day, yet it was impossible for him to eat any thing now. His uneasiness encreased every moment especially about midnight, because he did not hear them fire the three guns, which was the signal agreed upon, in case the undertaking proved sucess- ful. He recollected however, that it was wrong in him to abandon himself entirely to fear and hope, and seasonably remembered a maxim, which he had but lately commended D d 2 328 • to Friday, and which was, that in doubtful cases you must always expect the worst- If this worst case do not happen, so much the better for you! But if it do, it will not put you out of countenance. According to this principle, Robinson imagined the ill success of the undertaking as certain, and summon'd up all his firmness and resignation in divine providence, to bear this new stroke of fortune likewise. He had almost given up all his hopes, when suddenly he really heard the distant report of a gun. Robinson jumped up, as roused from his slumber and listened. Bounce! a second report, and then a third. And now he did not in the least doubt of the captain's success in recovering the ship, and of his approaching deliverance. In the heat of his joy, more flying, than walking, he Furried down the rope ladder, seized Friday, who sat nods ding on a bank of sods, pressed him to his bosom and bew dew'd his face with many tears, without uttering a single word.,,What's the matter, master ? said Friday, awaku ing from his slumber, quite surprised at these impetuous - caresses. But Robinson in the excess of his joy could say no thing, but: Ab, Friday f 3) • God have mercy on my master's head!" said Friday, to himself from an idea that Robinson had lost his senses. Come, lie down to sleep, dear master!" said he to him, and was going to take him by the arm, to lead him into the cave. But Robinson with unspeakable affability. answer'd to sleep, dear Friday ? I sleep now. at the at the very moment Heaven has granted me the accomplishment of the only wish of my heart? Did not you hear the three guns L Don't you know as yet, that the ship is recovered? " Now Friday's eyes were open'd; now he also rejoiced, but more on his dear master's account than on his own. For R329 For the thought of leaving his own native climate forever damped the pleasure of going with Robinson and his father to a country, of which he had already seen so many surpri sing things, and where he expected to see still greater wond ders Robinson was now more uneasy', than ever, with meto extasy. Sometimes he went up the hill, fell on his kness under the starry vault of heaven, to thank God for his de liverance; then he descended again, embraced his Friday spoke of nothing but Hamburgh, and began already to pack up his goods. Thus be past the whole night, without ever once thinking of repose." At the first dawn of day. his eyes were fixed to where the ship lay at anchor, and he waited with impatience for the perfect day light, that he might have a full sight of the ship, the inftrument of his deliverance. The moment ar rived; but Heaven! how great was his terror, when be saw with perfect certainty, that the ship had disappear'd. He gave a loud out-cry, and fell down to the ground. Friday came running to him to him, but was a long time before he could imagine, what was the matter with his master. At length Robinson stretched his trembling hand toward. the sea, and said with a weak dying voice : look there! Frie day looked, and immediately understood his master. (The young company did not know, how to behave in this place. They would willingly have abandon'd themselves to joy, because they hoped, this incident would prolong the father's narration; but their compassion of Robinson former mise fortunes restrained this rising joy, and did not suffer it to break out. They all observed therefore a profound silence and the father continued.) 1 Our Robinson here teaches us by his own example, How much even good people, who have improved their minds, D. d. s ought 350 ought to be on their guard, to prevent their being overcome by the violence of their passions. If Robinson's joy had not been so immoderate before, he would not have been so excessively grieved afterwards; and if his grief had not so entirely darken'd his reason, he would have known, that he must likewise in this particular submit to divine providence with resignation, tho' his most sanguine wishes were des troyed by it. He ought to have consider'd, that divine providence has always means for our safety, when we do not think it possible to be deliver'd from distrefs; and this reflexion would have tranquilised him. Look, children, how much even the best men find to mend in themselves ! - Whilst Robinson lay there so comfortless, and Friday endeavour'd to sooth him, they suddenly heard a noise on the other side of the hill, as from the steps of many peop. le. They jumped up, turned their eyes towards that place, and perceived with agreeable astonishment the captain with some of his people coming up the hill. At one jump Robinson had clasped him in his arms! When he turned about, he saw the ship at an anchor in a small creek on the western side, and in that same moment all his grief vanish'd. This sight convinced him at once, that the cap. gain had alter'd his station before daybreak, and brought the ship to that side of the island, where it might lie at an anchor in a convenient harbour. Robinson lay a long while in silent extasy on the neck of the captain who was no less rejoiced than be, till at last they began to congratulate and thank each other. Then the captain related him in what manner he had succeeded in recovering his chip, without wounding or killing one man. The darkneſs of night, preventing the mutineers to eee him, they made no difficulty in admitting his companis The worst of the rebels had afterwards indeed offer'd 018. to 331 " 10 make resistance; but without success. They were sei- zed and laid in irons. Upon which he indulged his gra. titude to his deliverer. It is you, said he, whilst a tear started in his eye; it is you, generous man, whose compas. sion and prudence have saved me and my ship. There it. is it is yours, dispose of it and of me, as you think pro. per. "" Then he sent for some refreshments, which he had brought from on board, and now they sat down to an agree able breakfast with cheerful hearts. ! " In the mean time Robinson related his strange and mare vellous adventures to the captain, which more than once excited in him the greatest astonishment. Then the captain begged Robinson to tell him, what he should do for him now; and Robinson answer'd: Besides the conditions I made with you for my assistance, I have three other things to beg of you. The first is to stay here, till my honest Friday's father returns with the Spaniards; the second is, to take all the Spaniards, besides me and my houshold on board, and sail first to Cadiz, there to land them. The third is to pardon the chief mutineers, and leave them in the island instead of any other punishment; because I am sure, this is the best method of mending them. The captain having assured him, that every thing should be punctually observed to his desire, he sent for the priso ners, chose the worst from among them, and announced them their sentence. They were very glad to hear it, bei cause they knew, that according to law, they had forfeited their lives. Our good natured Robinson gave them instru tions, how to get their livelihood, and promised to leave them his whole stock of tools, furniture and cattle. He ad. monish'd them at repeated times to put their trust in God, to be laborious and live in unity together, assuring them. that these virtues would render their abode in this island exceedingly agreeable. Whilst 352 Whilst he was sill speaking, Friday out of breath for joy, came running, with the glad tidings, that his father was coming with the Spaniards, and that they were landing that very moment. The whole company therefore went to meet them; but Friday flew before all the rest, and was hanging on his father's neck, long before the rest came up. Robinson saw with surprise, that there were two women among bis new guests; and upon inquiry, old Thursday informed him, that they were the wires of two Spaniards, whom they bad chosen among the natives of their island. As soon as the two Spaniards were informed, that Robinson was going to quit the island, and leave some sailors behind him, they begged Robinson to be allowed, to remain there also with their wives, because they did not wish to live in a better place, after all the favourable accounts they had heard of this island. Robinson consented to their request with pleasure. F was glad, that a couple of men should remain upon his island whom all their comrades gave the best character, because he hoped, they would keep the other bad fellows in a regular and peaceful course of life. For which purpose be resolved to make all the rest dependent on these two. He called them all together, to let them know his will. There were six Englishmen, and the two Spaniards with their wives. Robinson spoke to them as follows: None of you I hope will dispute me the right I have of disposing of my property as I please: I mean of this whole island and every thing in it. of you that remains here, regular disposition of things, it. I declare therefore, that the two Spaniards shall be look. ed upon as my substitutes, and be the lawful masters of this island. It is therefore the duty of the rest of you, to But I wish, that every one may do well. This requires a and I have a right to make Ray 333 pay them the strictest obedience. They alone shal inhabit my castle; they alone shall be the trustees of all the arms, all the ammunition, and all the tools; but they shall like- wise be obliged to lend the rest of you, what you have occasion for, on condition, that you live peaceably and ors derly in every respect. In case of danger, you shall assist each other; if there be labours, either in the fields or gar den, you shall all work together and divide the crop among you. Perhaps I may once have occasion to enquire after you; perhaps I may resolve one day to return myself, and spend the rest of my days in this island, that is now sq dear to me. Then wee to him, who shall have infringed my regulations! He shall be set adrift in a small boat, withs out mercy, and committed to the sea in a storm. They all testified their satisfaction at this disposition, and vowed the strictest obedience. And now Robinson made an inventory of the few things he would take along with him, that they might be put on board. It contain'd: 1) the clothes, which he had himself made of skins, together with the umbrella and mask; 2) the lance, the bow, and the stone hatchet; 3) his Pull, his dog and two lamas; 4) all sorts of tools and instruments of bis own making, when alone; and at last 5) the gold dustj diamonds, and his large lump of gold. After having got all these things on board, and the wind being favourable, their departure was fixed for the next day. Upon which Robinson and Friday prepared a dinner for the enter tainment of the captain and the new colony. They served the best they had, and the victuals were so well dressed; that the captain-could-not sufficiently praise Robinson's skill in the art of cookery. To follow the noble example of 'his host and at the same time to contribute something to the appiness of the colony, he sent on board for a quantity of 334 provisions, gun powder, iron and tools, which he left as a present behind him. Towards evening Robinson begged to be an hour alone, because he had still some business of importance to settle before his departure. Every body withdrawing, he ascen ded the hill, to revolve in his mind the whole history of bis abode in this island, and to pour out his whole heart in filial gratitude to God. It is impossible for me to express his pious and grateful sentiments in words; but whoever has a heart like his, needs none of my description; he will. read them in his own." " Now the moment of their departure was come. Robinson having again admonished those, who were to remain there, with tears in his eyes, to lead a laborious and pious life, he recommended them with a fraternal heart to the protection of the Almighty, who had led him in so wonderful a mana ner. He then looked round him once more, and thanked God for his miraculous preservation and present deliverand ce; then with a voice half stifled, he bade his last fared well! and went on board, attended by Friday and Thursday, Some. Oh dear! Now 'tis all over. 'John. Have patience! Who knows, whether some new obstacle may prevent his departure. Father. The wind was so fresh and favourable, that the island seemed to fly away behind them. As long as Robinson could see it, he stood in mournful silence on deck with his eyes fixed on the beloved island, which had been his abode for twelve years; and the manifold hardships he had suffered there, had endear'd it so much to him, as if it had been his native country. Having at length lost sight of the top of the highest mountain, he look'd up to hea yen, repeating in his thought: Now thank ye all the Lord eic,! Upon which he went down into the captain's cabin, I τσ 335 together with Thursday and Friday, to relieve his oppressed heart by a friendly conversation. Their voyage was very prosperous. In four and twen ty days they reached Cadiz, where the Spaniards were land ed. Robinson went along with them, to enquire for the merchant, whose gold dust he had saved. He found him, and had the satisfaction, of freeing this honest man from the greatest difficulties. The loss of his ship had been the cause of his becoming a bankrupt. 2 Frederic. What is a bankrupt? Father. When a man owes more than he can pay, every thing he has left, is taken from him, to be divided among his creditors, and that is called becoming a bankrupt. The little barrel of gold dust was more than sufficient to pay the merchant's debts. The grateful man offer'd the rea mainder as a present to his benefactor, but he was far from accepting it, being, said he, sufficiently rewarded by the consciousness of having prevented the ruin of an hos nest man. From Cadiz they set sail for England. During this voyage a melancholy accident happened. Old Thursday fell suddenly ill, and died notwithstanding all their endeavours to save him. You may easily imagine, what Friday suffered on this occasion, and how excessively he lamented the death of so beloved a father. Neither could the two lamas bear the sea, and died likewise. The ship arrived safe at Portsmouth a well known hard our in England. Here Robinson hoped to find the officer's widow, to whom he would deliver the diamonds. He found her; but in the most indigent circumstances. Having recei ved no support from her deceased husband in the East- Ina dies, for two years she and her children were by degrees redu◄ ced to the greatest poverty. They were scarce cover'd with come 356 - Bome rags, and the faces of the mother and her children were as pale as death with hunger and misery. Robinson here again felt that pleasure, which good men enjoy, when by divine providence they become instrumental in putting an end to the misery of their fellow-creatures. He deliver'd her the diamonds, and then he saw this withering and half Famish'd family in a few days flourish again, like a plant almost faded, after a warm rétreshing rain in summer, and enjoy a happiness, which they had not hoped to see in this world. As there was just at this time a ship at anchor here, which was bound for Hamburgh, he took leave of his captain to be no longer chargeable to him, and went in company with Friday on board of this Hamburgh vessel, which soon after weighed anchor. This voyage likewise proved expeditious and prosperous. Helgoland already appeared in view; soon after Robinson spied his beloved country on the distant horizon, at the sight of which his heart was ready to burst for joy; now they made the mouth of the Elbe, when suddenly a violent storm with thunder and lightening arose, which carried the vessel upon the shore with irresistible violence. They em. ploy'd all their skill and activity toturn the ship and get to sea again; but in vain: a furious gust of wind baffled all their endeavours, bore away the ship, and threw her with such violence on a sand bank, that her bottom split. In the same moment the water pour'd in with such im• petuosity, that they could not think of saving her, so that the crew had scarce time to jump into their boats,, to save their own lives, if possible. Thus Robinson and his com, panions arrived at last at Cuxhaven shipwrecked and poor, without having saved any of all his riches, except his faith ful dog, that swam after him, and his Poll, that happen'd . 10 337 to sit on his shoulder, when the ship was cast on shore Afterwards he was informed, that among the goods, that were saved, they had only found his umbrella, and the clothes of skins. These he got again after paying the usual expences: his large lump of gold on the contrary was en. tirely lost. John. Oh, poor Robinson! Father. He is now just as rich as he was, when for merly he went off from Hamburgh. Perhaps Providence made him lose every thing again, to prevent any giddly young man or other from being tempted by the sight of his riches, to follow his example, and wander thro' the wide world, in hopes of returning like him with treasures found by chance. As to Robinson, he did not greatly lament this loss, For as he had firmly resolved to pass the rest of his days in the same uninterrupted laboriousness and sobriety, just as he had been accustomed to live in his island, he could easily do without gold. Now he went to Hamburgh on board of a vessel, that was going from Cuxhaven. When they were off Stade, he could see the steeples of his native city, at which sight he could not forbear weeping for extasy. In four hours time at furthest he would be there, and in the arms of his dear- ly beloved father. At Cuxhaven he had been informed of his good mother's death, which he grievously la. mented. Now the vessel flew by Blankenese, bome by a strong tide and a fair wind; presently after they passed Neuen staedten, then Altona, and now they were in the hare bour of Hamburg. His heart was in the greatest agitation, when he got on shore, and if it had not been for the peo ple, he would have fallen on his face to kiss the native soil E He } 338 He hasten'd thro' a crowd of staring spectators to the Baum house *). From thence he sent a messenger to his father's house, to prepare him by degrees for his appearance. First the messenger was to tell him: there was a person come with agreeable news from his son; and then, that his son was himself on his return for Hamburgb; and in fine, that the person, who brought this agreeable news, was his son himself. If Robinson had not used this precaution, such an excess of joy might have overpower'd and killed his old father. And now Robinson himself flew thro' the well known streets, to his father's house. He enters falls into his father's arms, who stood trembling for joy, with such extasy as cannot be described. My Father! My son! This was all they could utter. Silent, trembling and breathless they clung a) to each other, till at last a flood of tears relieved their oppressed hearts. Friday stood in the mean time staring in silent astonish- ment at the numberleſs wonderful things, that appear'd be- fore his eyes. He could not satiate his curiosity, and was the first whole day quite confounded. The report of Robinson's return and surprising adventures ran like lightening thro' the town. Every one spoke of Ro- binson; every one wished to see him; they all desired to hear the history of his adventures from his own mouth! His Father's house therefore was soon like a public assembly; and Robinson was obliged to tell his history from morning till night, without mercy. Whilst he was relating, he did not forget to cry out now and then to the fathers and mo◄ thers present; Ye parents, if you love your children, ac- 4) to cling. A large tavern near the harbour, belonging to the City. custom 339 custom them betimes to a pious, sober and laborious life! and if there were any children, he always gave them the following golden rule , my dear children, be obedient to your parents and masters; learn diligently every thing you find occasion to learn; fear God, and beware oh bej ware of idleness, the mother of every vice. Robinson's father was a broker. He wished his son might apply to this business, in order to fill his place after his death. But Robinson, who since many years had been used to the pleasure of working with his hands, begged his fa. ther, to suffer him to be a joiner; and his father left it to his own option. He therefore bound himself apprentice to a master, together with Friday, and before the end of a year, they had learned every thing, so that they were able to become masters themselves. Upon which they set up a shop in company together; and remained inseparable friends and assistante for life. Industry, and sobriety were become their second nature, to such a degree, that it was impossible for them to spend but half a day in idleness. In remembrance of their former solitary life, they appointed one day iu the week, on which they endeavour'd, as well as they could, to live on the same footing. Concord, between themselves, indulgence for the faults of others, readiness to serve them, and humanity to all men were virtues so habitual to them, that they could not comprehend, how people could live without practising them. They were particularly distinguished by their pure, undissembled and active piety. Whenever they pronounced the name of God, joy and love for him sparkled in their eyes; and they shudder'd, when at any time they heard others pronounce that holy name with levity and inconside rateness. The blessing of heaven also crown'd all their undertakings in a visible manner. They attained to a great age, I e a 340 age, in pease, health and useful activity, and the latest posterity will honour the remembrance of two men, who were an example to their fellow creatures, how we must do, to live satisfied here and eternally happy hereafter. Here the father stopt. The young company remain'd for some time sitting in a pensive posture, till at last the hought I will do so too! ripen'd into a firm resolution. VERKLARING der woorden en fpreekwijzen in dit werkje voor- komende. Beteekenis der verkortingen. : z. zelfstandig naamwoord. bv. bijvoegelijk woord. bw. bijwoord. vz. voorzetfels. mv. meervoud. Door dit teeken 0. t. onvolmaakte sijd, dw. deelwoord. b. w. bedrijvend werkwoord. o. w. onzijdig werkwoord. f. figuurlijk. · wordt de ſcherp - korte, door de ſcherp - lange, toon van eenen klinker aangeduid. Dech is de uitspraak: der enkele klanken op meer wijzen onderfcheiden, welke de laer" meester best mondeling doet kennen. ་ A + A, (niet bepalend lidwoord) een, eene; voor woorden, die met eene klinkletter of ftom- meh beginnen, an; an ass an ignorant boy, een ezel, een on- wotende jongen; an hour, cen uar; 2) in plaats van het be- palend lidwoord en van fom- mige vz., als, twice a (to) day, tweemaal des daags; there we go a (on) board a (of) ship, daar gaan wij aan boord van een schip, (te fcheep); he did not go a (on) hunting, hij ging niet op de ė A B jagt; 3) ook in de zamenfiel- ling, met zi en werkwoorden, als: he is yet asleep (in), hij flaapt nog; he had much ado (to), hij had veel moeite; they came a foot (on), zij kwamen te voet they went a shore (on), zij gingen aan wal. to Abandon, b. w. verlaten, o- vergeven; to abandon one's self to joy, zich aan de vreugde overgeven Abàshed, beſchaamd. to Abate, o. w. afnemen, ver mindere; the storm abáted a Fe 3 little 342 A C A B little, de form verminderde een weinig. to Abhor, b. w. verfoeijen. Ability, z. bekwaamheid, go. fchiktheid. Able, bv. bekwaam, vermogend, in faat. Abóde, z. woning, verblijf. to Abòlish, b. w. vernietigen, affchaffen; to abolish a bad custom een kwaad of Recht gebruik affchaffen. Abòminable, b. v. affchuwelijk. to Abòminate, b. w. verfoeijen. Abòrtive, f. mislukt, to prove abortive, mislukken. - to Abound, b. w. overvloedig (van iets) voorzien zijn 2) 0. w.overvloedig voorhanden zijn, in overvloed aanwezig zijn. Aboút, vs. om, rondom ; about vê, his waist, om zijn middel, z) van daar ook: bij, I have no money about me, ik heb geen gold bij mij; 3) tegon,(nabij den tijd); about noon, tegen don middag, 4) aan, bij, met aitduiding van plaats; about the port, bij de haven; about the fields, in de veldon, 5) o- ten aanzien van, we- gens; what I told you about cod, wat ik u wegens den ftok- visch verteld heb, 6) onge- veer, omtrent; of about six dollars value, van de waarde yan omtrent zes kroonen; bw. om, rondom, ergens, waar ; to run about, in het rond loopen, waar ergens ; where about the ship was, waar zich het fchip be yond, ) met het werkw. to Be beteekent het: voornemens zijn; he was about to go, hij ftond op ziju verorek. | Abdve, vz. boven (cene plaats aanduidende); above his ca- vern, boven zijne ſpelonk; to keep a ship above water, een Schip boven water, een Schip vlor houden, 2) meer dan (tijd aanduidende); above six hours, meer dan zes uren; vóór, bo• ven, eerst; eerst; above all things voor alle dingen, vooreerst, a) boyes; above mentioned, bovengemeld. Abroad, bw. buiten, uit, bui- tenshuis; to go abroad, uit. gaan. Abruptly, bw. plotselijk, onyers wachts, onverhoods. Absence, z. de afwezigheid. Absent, bv. afwezig. Absolute, bv. onbeperkt; an ab solute king, ein een vrijmagtig koning. Absolutely, bw,volftrekt. Absorbed, dw. van to absorb, absorbed in thoughts, in ge- dachten verzonken, in dieps gedachten. Abundance, z. de overvloed. to Abuse, bw. misbruiken. Abúse, z. het misbruik. Abyss, z. de afgrond. to Accèpt, b. w. aannemen, (met of), I should accept of your present? ik zoude uw geſchenk aannemen? Acceptable, bv. aannemelijk, aangenaam, welkom. Accident, z. het toeval. Accidentally, bw. toevallig, bij toeval. to Accòmpany, bw. vergezellen, geleiden, gezelschap houden. to Accomplish, bw. tot fand brengen, voltooijen; volledig maken. Ac A C 343 A D Accomplishment, z. de verval- ¡ ling; the accomplishment of this precept, de nakoming, in acht neming van deze raadgeving. Accord, z. eigenlijk, overeen- fremming; if you do it of your own accord, indien gij her vrijwillig doet. According, dw. overcenfemmen. de, (met: to) according to. naar, volgens; according to his custom, Baar zijne ge- woonte. Accordingly, bw. dienvolgens, naar mate daaryan', gevolge- lijk. to Account, bw. f. (mer: for), be was to account for it, hij moest daarvan rekenſchap ge- ven. Account, z. eens rekening, f. sekenfchap; account of time, sijdrokening; 23 de narigs, uitkomst, 3) de oorzaak, re de, gronds upon this account, om deze reden; on what account, om welke reden; on his ac- count, om zijnent wille; account of the rain, sit hoofde van den regen. on to Acccátre, bw. fieren, tooi- jen, optooijen. Accoutrement, 2. de uitrusting › toerusting. to Accuse, b. w. aanklagen, bc. fchuldigen, 2) to accase one's self, zich zelven verwijten. to Accùstom, b. w. gewennen. Accustomed, dw. gewend. Ache, áke, z. aanhoudende pijn ; the headake, de hoofdpijn. to Acknowledge, b. w. erken- nen, met dank erkennen. Acorn, z. de eikel. to Acquaint, b. a. bokond ma- ken, (mer with en of). Acquaintance, z. kennis; 2) een bekende. Acquainted, dw. bekend; he got acquainted with him, hij ge•` raakte met hem in kennis. to Acquièsce, b. w. (mer ià en to) zich iets laten welgeval- len, iets toeftemmen. to Acquire, b. w. verkrijgen, bekomen. Across, bw. dwars, kruiswijze ; with his arms accross, met zij- ne armen over elkander Ba flagen. to Act, b. w. handelen; - eenig karakter voorstellen; to act the king, den koning voorfiel- len, de rol eens konings ſpelen. Act, z. cene handeling, dead. Action, z. eene handeling, wer- king; een-gevecht; a bloody G action, een bloedig gevecht. Active, bv. werkzaam, ijverig. Activity, z. werkzaambeid, bem hendigheid. Actually, bw. werkelijk. to Adapt, b. w. ſchikken; aan passen (mes to). to Add, b. w. bijvoegen. to Addict, b. w. wijden, toem wijden. to Address, b. w. rigten; he ad dressed his prayers to God, hij rigtte zijne gebeden tot God; 2) als wederkeerig werkw, to address one's self to some body, zich tot iemand wenden. Address, z. bekwaamheid, kunst. Adieu, bw. vaarwel; to bid adieu, vaarwel zeggen. Acknowledgement, z. de dank- | Adjoining, dw. vam to adjoin, baarheid. EC 4 aashori, aangrinaind; the ado 344 A G AD adjoining piece, het aanhoori- | Afar, bw. verre; from afar, vas ge Auk, : to Adjourn, b. w. verfchaiven, tot op eenen anderen dag uit- fellen. Asmirably, bw. bewonderens- waardig.. to Admire, b. w. bewonderen. to Admit, b. w. to admit one, iemand toelaten, ontvangen. to Admorish, b. w. raden, waar- Schuwen. Admonition, z. de raad, waar- fchuwing. Ado, (in plaats van to do), moeite; after much ado, met groote moeite. t› Adòre, b. w. aanbidden. to Adorn, b. w. verfieren. Adrift, bw. weg, voort; to set adrift, laten drijven. to Advance, b. w. voerwaarts brengen, bevorderen; 2) o. w. vorderen, voortrukken, voort. gaan; the day was already far advanced, de dag was reeds grootendeels verloopen. Advancement, z. de vordering; wasdom. Advantage, z. lies voordeel; to take advantage of a thing, zich iets ten nutte maken. Advantageously, bw. voordelig, met voordeel. Adventure, z. toeval; avontuur, gebeurtenis. Adversity, z. wederwaardigheid, tagenspoed. Advice, z. de raadgeving; – de narigt. Advisible, bv. raadzaam. to Advise, b. w. raden; to advise with one's pillow, zich op iets beflapon, iets in het bed overleggen. verre. Affability, z. Spaarzaamheid. Affair, z. eene bezigheid, zaak. to Affèct, b. w. treffen. Affècted, dw. den fchijn van iets hebbende, gemaakt; affected sèn- sibility, gemaakte gevoeligheid. Affèction, z. de aandoening; 2) toegenegenheid, teodorheid. Affirmation, z. de bevestiging. Affirmative, by. ook als zeifftan- dig gebruikelijk; to be ans- wered in the affirmative bevestigend antwoord krijgen. to Afflict, b. w. bedroeyen, krenken. cen Affliction, z. hartzeer; droefheid. Affluence, z. de overvloed. to Afford, b. w. voortbrengen. to Affeight, b. w. verfchrikken, bevreesd maken. Affright, z. de fchrik, plotfelij- ke vrees. Alloát, bw. ylat Afloat, bw. vlot, (drijvend); they got the boat afloat, zij maakten de boot wederom vlot. Afráid, bv. bevreesd, bang; he was afraid of the winter, hij was voor den winter beducht. After, vz..na, achter (van plaats Sprekende), bw. na, nader- hand, (van tijd ſprekenda), als voegwoord, nadat. Afternoon, z. de namiddag. Afterwards, bw. naderhand, daarna. Again, bw. weder, op nieuw, nog eens. Against, vz, tegen, 2) f. aan (ook: segen), I will fix the map against the tree, ik zal de landkaart aan den boom vast maken. Age, z, de ouderdom; he was se A G 845 A L venteen years of age, hij was zeventien jaren oud; 2) het tijdperk, tijdruim, tijdvak, de eeuw; the present age, de tegenwoordige eeuw. Aged, bv. bejaard, oud. to Agitate, b. w. in beweging Stellen, brengen; the storm a- gitated the sea, de ftorm deed de zee woelon; a) f. in hevi ge gemoed beweging, ontroerd zijn; to be agitated in one's mind, Agitation, z. f. de ontroering; agitation of blood, hevige be- weging van het bloed. Agó, bw. verleden, verloopen, geleden; long ago, lang gele- den, voor langen tijd, federt lang; two years ago, federt (voor) twee jaren. Agony, z. de doodsangst, het zieliogon; 1) alle hevige 3) Smart, agony of grief, groote angst, diepe (gemoeds-)[mart, diepe droefheid. to Agrée, o. w. ovarcenftem12 0 17, 2) in eensgezindheid met el- kauder løyen; the goat agreed with the lamas, de geit leefde de geit leefde vreedzaam met de lama's, 3) toafemmen, bewilligen; to agree to a proposal, zijne toe- Bemming tot eenig voorfiel geven. Agreeable, bv. aangenaam. Agreeably, bw. op eens aangena- a me wijze, aangenaam. Agréed, dw. it was agreed upon, men was overeengekomen; greed, als tusfchenwerpfel : Fiat, ik fem toe! Agréement, z. de overeenkomst, het verdrag, de fchikking. Agriculture, z. de landbouw, | Ague, z. eene bij afwisseling heese en koude koorts. Ah, (tusschenwerpsel) ha! ach! Aim, z. het doel; he took his aim • better, hij mikte beser. Air, z. het voorkomen, het ui. terlijke; an air of familiarity, een vertrouwelijk, gemeen zzam, voorkomen. Air, z. de lucht. Ake, zie Ache. . to Alarm, b. w. doen ontroeren, doen ontstellen, fchrik ver- wekken. Alarm, Schrik. z. de ontroering, . de Alas! (tusfchenw.) helgas! Alíve, bv. lavend, levendig. All, bv. al, allen, alles; all of you, gij allen; 2) het geheel, geheel en al; all night, denge- heelen nacht; not at all, is het geheel niet; 3) als 2.; they have packed up their alls, zij hebben hunne biezen ge- pakt (zijn met zak en pak vertrokken); bw. 2007, ges heel; all on a sudden, gehool onverwacht. to Alay to Alay, b. w. verminderen; to allay the violence of his hunger, zijnen Scherpen honger ſtillen. to Alleviate, b. w. verligten; an alleviating sevant, Alleviation, z. de verligting. Alley, z. eene laan. toe- to Allów, bw. toeftemmen, er- kennen; a) vergunnen, ftaan; he was allowed to play, het fond hem vrij, men yer- gunde hem te spelen." Allowable, bv. geoorloofd. All-seeing, bv. alziende, alwa- send. to Allule (mert to), met bedos- E e 5 ling › 346 AN A L 1 ling, betrekking tot iets fpro- ken. toestand verbeteren; 2) o. w. beter worden, zich beteren. to Alläre, b. w. lokken, mis- Amendment, z. de verbetering, leidon. All-wise, bv. alwijs, alwetend. Ally, z. de bondgenoot. Almanack, z. de Almanak. Almighty, bv. almagtig. Almond, z. de amandel. Almost, bw. bijna. Alóne, bv. en bw. alleen; let them alone, laat hen begaan, laat hen mot rust. Alòng, bw. langs; 2) in gezel- ſchap, mede; if he would go along with him, of hij met hem wilde mode gaan. AANM. het yz. with mag niet wegge- laten worden. He took them along with him home, hij nam hen met zich (mede) naar huis. Aloud, bw. luid, luidkeels, hard hard op. Already, bw. reeds. Also, bw. ook, even zoo. to Alter, b. w. veranderen; his circumstances were altered, zij me omstandigheden waren ver- anderd. Alternately, bw. bij afwisseling, beurtelings. Although, althó, voegw. hoewel, niettegenstaande. Always, bw.altoos, altijd, fleeds. Am; I am, ik ben ; van het workw. to Be to Aráze, b. w. doen verbazen; | he was amazed, hij was ver- baasd. Amazomert, z. de verbazing; a) de ontroering. Amèo, tw. amen! het zij zoo! God geve het! to Amend, b. w. verbeteren; to amend his condition, zijnen | Amènds, z. voldoening, vorgoe. ding; to make one's self amends, zich fchadeloos ftellos. Amèrica, z. Amerika; an ameri can, een amerikaan. Amiss, bw. ongepast, kwalijk, onvoegzaam, it would not be amiss, hot ware niet kwalijk. Ammunition, ammunitie > Z. krijgsvoorraad, kruid en leod. Amòng, amongst, vz. onder, të midden van. Ample, bv. wijd, ruim; a) rijā kelijk; to make one's self ample amends, zich rijkelijk ſchade- loos ftellen. to Amúse, b. w. zich tijdkorting verfchaffen. Amú sement, z. het tijdverdrijf. An, zie A, eon, eene, eenen. Anchor, z. het anker; to cast anchor, het anker werpen; to weigh anchor, het anker ligten. Ancient, bv. oud, van den ou- den tijd. Anciently, bw. in vorige, in ou de tijden, certijds, oudtijds. Ancle, zie Ankle. And, (voegw.) en. Auéw, bw. op nieuws, nogmaals. Anger, z. toorn, gramſchap. Angry, bv. toornig. Anguish, z. de angst. Animal, z. hes dier; bv. dierlijk. to Animate, b. w. bezielen, a) aanmoedigen, opwekken, aan. Sporen. Ankle, ancle, z. de enkel (van een voet) Aurals, z. mv. de jaarboeken. to Annex, b. w. bijvoegen, aan. hungen. to A P 347 A P so Announce, b. w. aankondigen, berigt geven van. Annual, bv. jaarlijksch, Acother, bw. een ander; one another, elkander. 8) to Answer, b. w. antwoorden, a) f. beantwoorden, vervullen; to answer an end, aan een doel, oogmerk beantwoorden ССЛЕ beſtemming vervullen. To anse wer the same purpose, tot het. zelfde oogmerk dienen. Answer, z. het antwoord. Answerable, bv. verantwoorde- lijk, 2) beantwoordende, evan- redig, overeenkomftig. Antic, antick, bv. ouderwets, zonderling; antick gestures, be- lagchelijke gebaarden. to Anticipiate, b. w. vervroegen, vooraf genicsen; he anticipated the joy, hijfmaakte reeds voor- af de vreugde. Antidote, z. een tegengif, olk géne csmiddel hetwelk eenige ziekte of kwaal tegengaat; con hulpmiddel. Antipode, bv. tegenovergesteld; Z. een tegenvoeter, f. hes se- gendeel (van iets). Anvil, z. het aambeeld, Anxiety, z. de angst. Anxious, bv. ongerust, bezorgd. Anxiously, bw. met angst, zon- der rust. Auy, bv. ieder; 2) iemand; any where, ergens ; 3) voor den vergelijkonden trap: iets, oem weinig; any more, iets meer; any longer, iets langer. Ape, z. de aap. Appear, o. w. verſchijnen, s) blijken. Appearance, z. de verſchijning; he made his appearance, hij ver- het fcheen; ) het aanzien, voorkomen; his appearance was majestic, zijn voorkomen was odel; 3) de schijn; in all appea- rance, naar allen fshijë. Appetite, z. ceslast, honger. Apple, z. de appel. Appletree, z. een appelboom. Application, z. de vlijt, werk- zaamheid, naarftigheid. to Apply, b. w. zijne opmerk- zaamheid op iets vestigen, zich toeleggen; he applied to learn- ing, hij leide zich op het lee- ren toe; 2) tot iemand ver- voegen. to Appoint, b. w. bepalen; the day was appointed, de dag was bepaald; 2) beſtellen, aanftel lan; people are appointed, de lieden zijn aangefield. to Apprehend, b. w. reszen. Appretènsion, z. de vrees. Apprehensive, bv. bevreesd. Apprentice, z. de leerling, leer- jongen; to biod one's self ap- prentice, zich als leerling ver- binden. to Apprize, b. w. berigt geven, melden. to Approach, b. w. saderen. Approach, z. de aannadering. Approbation, z. de goedkeuring. to Appropriate, b. w. zich rocei- gonen, nazien. to Approve (meest met: of), goedkeuren, billijken; I ap- prove of it, ik billijk het. Apron, z. het fchort, de voor School. Apc, bv. bekwaam, 2) tot iets genegen; one is often apt to think, men is dikwijls genegen om te gelooven, men zou dik- wijls denken. Ar. 348 A S AR Arbiter regter. z. de fcheidsman, de Arbour, z. ben pricel. Arcadia, z. Arkadien (een land- fchap in Peloponnezus, de ze- tel van het herderlijke leven bij oude dichters; f. een denk- beeldig land van onfchuld en je gd). Architecture, z. de bouwkunst. Ardent, bv. vurig, innig. Ardently, bw. vuriglijk. Ardour, z. de histo, innigheid. to Argue, b. w. befluiten, opma“ ken, afleiden. to Arise, o. w. opgaan, rijzen; the sun arose, de zon ging op; 2) ontstaan; there arose a bus- tle, er ontfond een gedruisch. Arm, z. de arm (gedeelte van het n enfchelijk ligchaam), 2) de arm van eene rivier, the arm of a current. to Arm, b. w. bewapenen. Armour, z. de wapenrussing, het harnas. Arms, z. mv. de wapenen. Army, z. eene armee, een leger. Aróse, o. t. van to Arise. Around, bw. rondom; 2) vz om; around him, om hem heen. to Arrange, b, w. fchikken, in orde brengen. Arrangement, z. fchikking, in- rigting. Arrival, z de aankomst. to Arrive, o. w, aankomen. Arrow, z. de pijl. Article, z. het punt, het artis kel, de voorwaarde. Artificial, bv. kunftig; the arti- ficial wants, gekunftelde of door kunst ontstane behoeften. Artist, z. een kunftenaar, am- bachtsman. As, (voegw.) als, (bij vergelij· kingen, wanneer het dubbel. Raat, wordt het eerfte door zoo vertaald): they ran as fast as they could, zij liepen zoo hard als zij konden; 2) 201 > gelijk; even as you please, zoo als het u behaagt; as it were, als ware het, bijna als of; 3) as for, as to, wat betr betreft, ten aanzien van; 4) daar, toen, terwijl; just as he spoke, juist terwijl hij ſprak; 5) so as, 200 200 dat; 6) fomtijds is het overtollig as yet, nog• to Ascend, o. w. en b. w. be- klimmen, opklimmen. " to Ascertain, b. w. verzekeren, bevestigen, bepalen. to Ascribe, b. w. 10efchrijven. Ashamed, bv. befchaamd. Ashes, z. mv. de asch. Ashore, bw. aan den wal, aan het strand, ean land. Aside, bw. op zijde, zijdelings; 2) ter zijde. to Ask, b. w. 1) vragen, 2) ver" zoeken, eifchen, verlangen. Asleep, bw. in flaap; he is yet asleep, hij flaapt nog; he fell asleep, hij viel in flaap. Arrogant, bv. trotsch, hoog- Aspect, z. het uitzigt, het aan- moedig. Art, z. de kunst; liberal arts, de vrije kunften. Artery, z. de polsader; the bear- ing of the artery, het flaán der polsader, de polsflag. zion. Aspen, z. con abeelboom, popu. lierboom; he trembled like an aspen leaf, hij boefde als een riet. Ass, z. de ezel. Asa A S 349 AT Assemblage, z. de verzameling, bijeenkomst. to Assemble, b. w. vergaderen, verzamelen; o.w.bijeenkomen Asɛèmbly, z. de vergadering, het gezelschap. Assènt, z. 1) de toestemming, 2) . de goedkeuring; all gave their assent, allen gaven hunne toe- femming. to Assènt, b. w. toeftemmen, goedkeuren. Assiduity, z. onafgebroken vlijt, onvermoeide ijver. Assiduous, bv. ijverig, vlijtig. to Assist, b. w. bijftaan. Assistance, z. de bijstand, de hulp. Assistant, z. de helper, mede- helper. to Assuage, b. w. leenigen, ver- minderen. to Assume, b. w. aannemen. Assurance, z. vertrouwen, ger rustheid, 2) verzekering. to Assire, b. w. verzekeren. ge|| to Astonish, b. w. doen verba- zen, ontzetten. Astonishing, dw. verbazend, ont- zettend. Astòjishment, z. verbazing, ont- zetting. Astray, bw. verdwaald, dwa- lend; to go astray, op den dwaalweg gaan, dwalen, Asunder, bw. gefcheiden, afge zonderd. op der tijd; at these words, deze woorden, bij deze woor- den; at length, ten laatfte, ain- delijk; at last, eindelijk, tem flotte; at first, aanvankelijk, in het begin, eerst; 3) eens gemoedsbeweging bij iets aan. toonende; to laugh at a thing, over iets lagchen; to laugh at one, iemand uitlagchen; 4) at once eensklaps, op een- maal; at least, ten minste. Are, o. t. van to eat. Atlantic, bv. the atlantic ocean, de atlantische zee. 0972 > to A tack, b. w. aantasten, aan- vallen. Atrack, z. de aanval. to Attáin, b. w. en o. w. (als w. met to), bereiken, tot iets geraken. to Attempt, b. w. beproeven, pogen, eene poging doen. Attèmpt, z. de poging. to Artènd, b. b. w. vergezellen geleiden, ook f., attended with inconveniences, met zwarigheid gepaard. Ook to Attend on, tos iemand of iets behooren, £ f naar zich trekken. At èntion, z.de opmerkzaamheid. Asentive, bv. opmerkzaam. to Attract, b. w. aantrekken, naar zich trekken, 2) lokken. Attractive, bv, aaslokkelijk. to Augment, b. w. vermeerderen, o. w. meer worden, toenemen, zich vermeenigvuldigen. Aukward, awkward, bv. onhan- dig, onhebbelijk. Authentick, bv.echt, geloofwaaT- dig; an authentic account, cen echt, geloofwaardig, berigt, At, vz. tot, te, aan, in, bij, op, enz. 1) eene plaats aan. duidende at Hamburgh, te Hamburg; at table, aan 18. fel; at sea, in zee; at the fol- lowing page, op de volgende bladzijde; 2) tijd aanwijzen- | Author, z. de veroorzaker, 2, de ſchrijver, anthear. de; at the same time, ter zelf- Ff As 350 A U A V Authority, z. het gezag, het aan- zion; 2) de hoogste magt, royal authority. Autumn, z. de herfst. to Aváil, b. w. en o. w. baten, what does it avail me? wat baat het mij? Avenger, z. de wreeker. Avèrse bv. to be averse (mer > > from en to), afkeerig zijn iets ongaarne of met tegenzin doen. to Avóid, b. w. mijden, vormij- den. to Await, b. w. verwachten, af wachten, op iets wachten. to Awake, b. w. wekken, wak- ker maken, o. w. ontwaken, de o. t. awoke, begint te ver- ouderen. Awake, bv. wakker, Awake, bv. wakker, ontwaakt. Aware, bw. to be aware, gewaar worden, bemerken, bewust zijn. Away, bv. weg. Avèrsion, z. de afkeer, tegen- Awe, z. de eerbied, ootmoed. zin. Avidity, z. de gretigheid, de hebzucht. Back, z. de rug. Back, bw. terug; we shall soon be back again, wij zullen in korten tijd terug komen. Backward, bw, ruggewaarts, te- rug, achterwaarts; backward and forward, heen en weder. Báde, 0. t. van to Bid. Bad, bv. flecht, (vergelijkende trap worse, flechter, erger; overtreffende trap, worst, flechtfte, ergfte). to Baffle, b. w. yerijdelen; his hopes were baffled, zijne ver- wachtingen werden, zijne hoop sverd, te leur gefteld, verij- deld; ook: he saw himself baff- led in his hopes. Bag, z. do zak, tasch; a hun- ter's bag, eene wijtasch. Bailiwick, z. het ambt, baljuw- Schap, of Rizzebuttle, her ambt Ritze buttel. to Bake, b. w. bakken. B. Awhile in plaats van a while, een tijdlang. Awkward, zie Tukward. Ay, ja. Baker, z. de bakker. Bále, z. de baal, het pak. Ball, z. de kogel. Balm, z de balfem. Baltic, z. de oosszee, ook Bal- tic sea. to Banish, b. w. verbannen, ver“ jagen. Bank, z. de oever, voornamelijk van rivieren, 2) een zandbank. Bankrupt, z. een bankeroetier; to become bankrupt, bankroet maken, bankroet zijn. Bar, z. eene Stang, Aaaf; iron bars, ijzeren ſtaven, 2) een balk; a warping-bar, een we- versboom. Barbadoes, Barbados, een eiland in de Westindien. Barbarian, z. een wilde, een bar. baar. Barbarian, bv. barbaarsch,wreed. Bàrbarous, bv. wreed, wild, on menfchelijk. Bá BA 35I BA Báre, bv. raakt, onbekleed; 2) with his bare hands, met zijne bloote handen. Barefoot, bv. bleotvoets. Bargain, z. een koop, overeen- komst; fig. he gave him many good lessons into the bargain, hij gaf hem nog daarenboven verfcheidene goede lesfen. Bark, z. de fchors, bast; oaken bark, eikenbast, run. to Bark, o. w. blaffen; the dog fell a barking, de hond begon fterk te blaffen. Bàrley, z. garṣt. Barrel, z. een vat, eene ten. Barren, bv. onvruchtbaar. Barrow, z. cene baar, berrie, draagbaar; a wheel-barrow, een kruiwagen. to Barter, b. w. en o. w.ruilen, inruilen. Báse, bv. flecht, laag, laaghar- tig. Básely, bw. op eene laaghartige wijze. Båseness, z. - laaghartigheid laagheid. > Bashfulness, z. befchroomdheid, befchaamdheid. Básis, z. de grond, de grondflag. Basket, z. de mand, de korf. Basketmaker, z. een mandemaker. Basketmaking, z. het mandenma- ker. Basket work, z. manden werk, mandenmakers werk. Bass, z.bastmat, eene kerkmat. to Baste, b. w. het gebraad aan het Spit met boter of vet be- Sprengen. R. basted his meat with sea water, R. besprenkel- de zijn vleesch met zeewater. Bach, z. het bad. o Eathe, b. w. baden, zich ba- den; -with wine, met war™ men wijn baden. Battle, z. het gevecht, de flag, Báy, z. de baai, bogt, kleine zeeboezem. to Bé, o. w. zijn of wezen (go- heel onregelmatig) - met het dw., whilst he was working, terwijl hij werkte, onder zijn werk, gedurende zijnen ar- beid; whilst I am telling, ter- wijl ik vertel, - met de on- bepaalde wijs; he is to blame, hij is te berispen, hij ver- dient berispt te worden; I am to make, ik moet maken; 2) worden; he wished to be a sol- dier, hij wenschte een foldaat te worden. Beach, z. het strand, de vlakke oever. Beacon, z. de vuurbaak, de vuur- toren. Béad, z. kleine kogel, korrel, knopje; glassbeads, glaskora- len, glaskraaltjes. Béak, z. de bek, de ſnavel. Beam, z. de balk, 2) de licht- ftraal; sunbeams, zonnestralen. Béan, z. de bocn; french beans, roomfche boonen. — to Bear, b. w. dragen, f. ver- dragen; 2) aan zich hebben; to bear resemblance, gelijkheid hebben, gelijken; a relation, betrekkelijk zijn, vermaag- fchapt zijn; 3) 0. w. flagen, wel uitvallen, gelukken; to bring a thing to bear, iets tat ftand brengen; 4) to bear away, wegslepen, medeflspen, vours- of weg voeren. Beard, z. de baard. Bearded, bv. gebaard, met eenen baard voorzien. Ff2 Beard. 352 BE BE Béardless, bv. zonder baard. Beast, z. een dier. to Béat, b. w. flaan, 2) klop. pen; R. beat his meat, R. klop- ie zijn vleesch ; f. your heart with delight, for joy, uw hart zal van vreugde kloppen. Beautiful, bv. fchoon, fraai. Beauty, z. fchoonheid. Became, o. t. van to Become. Because, voegw. omdat, wijl. to Beckon, b. w. eno. w. wenkon. 10 Become, o. w. werden; to become bankrupt, bankroet ma- ken; 2) to become of, de uit- gang, het gevolg van iets zijn; what will become of you? wat Zal er van u worden? what became of him? what is er van hem geworden? 3) b. W. betamen; with becoming respect, met behoorlijken eer- bied. Bèd, z. het bed, de legerstede, 2) een tuinbad; flower beds, bloembedden. to Bedaub. bedawb, b. w. bc- fmeren. Bèdchamber, z. de Naapkamer. to Bedéw, b. w. bevochtigen, be- Sproeijen. Bedfellow, z. do flaapmakker, bedgenoot. Bedside, z. on his bedside, naast zijn bed, voor zijn bed. Bie, z. de honigbij. Béen, dw. van to Be. Béer, z. het bier. to Befall, o. w. bejegenen, we dervaren, overkomen; this mis- fortune would not have befallen you, dit ongeluk zoude u niet getroffen hebben. Before, vz. voor, (van tijd of plaats Sprekende) bw.oer, vroeger dan, te voren. ? Beforehand, bw. vooraf, voor. uit; I knew beforehand that B. was to come, ik wist voor af dat B. zoude komen. to Befriend, b. w. begunstigen; no wink of sleep befriended his eyes, geen flaap freelde zijne oogen. to Bèg, b. w. verzoeken. Began, o. t. van to Begin. Réggar, z. een bedelaar. to Begin, b. w. en o. w. aanyan- gen, beginnen. Beginner, z. een beginner, een nieuweling. Beginning, z. het begin, de aan- vang. > Beghn, dw. van to Begin. Behalf z. voordeel, behoef, nut; in our behalf, ten behoe- ve van ons, ten onzen your. deele; in his behalf, en zij- nen behoeve. to Behave, b. w. zich gedragen; to behave kindly towards one, zich jegens iemand vriendelijk gedragen. Beláviour, z. het gedrag, de han- delwijze. Beeld, dw, van to Behold. Behind, vz. achter, bw. terug; he left him behind, hij liet hem tersg. wen, to Behold, b. w. zien, beſchou- de gebiedende wijs be- hold, als tusfchenwerpfel ge. bruikt, beteekent: zie eens, zie daar! Béing, dw. van to Be, zijnde ; being overheated, verhit zijnde. Being, z. het aanwezig zijn, het bestaan; 2) een wezen iets dat beftaat. Beliéf, z. het geloof. to Believe, b. w. en o. w. ge- looven. Co BE 353 BE to Bellow, o. w. blaeten, brul- len. Bellows, z. mv. de blaasbalg, ook wel: a pair of bellows. Belly, z. de buik; to eat one's belly full, zijn buik vol, zijn genoegen eten. to Belòng, o. w. toebehooren, behooren. Beloved, dw. ook als bv. be- mind, waard, dierbaar. Belów, vz. ouder, bw. beneden, om laag. to Bend, b. w. buigen; to bend a bow, den boog Spannen, 2) naar zeker punt rigten; he bent his way to his habitation, hij floeg den weg naar zijne woning in; his mind was bent upon it, zijne gedachten wà- ren daarop bepaald. hij deed zijn best om spoedig te huis te komen, hij ging 200 Spoedig als hem mogelijk was naar huis, 3) bw. best; we had best, het beste dat wij doen konden, wij zouden best doen. to Bestów, b. w. (met on, upon ), bedoelen, toevoegen, geven. to Betáte, wederk. w. zich bege- ven; he betook himself to rest, hij begaf zich ter rust. to Bethink, wederk. w. zich be- zinnen, zich bedenken; he be- thought himself of another ex- pedient, hij bragt zich een ander middel te binnen. Bethought, o. t. van to Bethink. Betime, Betimes, bw. bij tijds, tijdig, 2) vroeg; he rose be- times, hij ftond vroeg op Beneath, vz. onder, bw. bene- Betóken, dw. van to Betake. den, omlaag. Benefactor, z. do weldoener. Benefit, z. de weldaad. Benèvolence, z. de weldadigheid. Benévolent. bv. weldadig. Bent, dw. yan to Bend, his knces were beat in gratitude, dank. baar boog hij zijne knie. Benumbed, Beuùmmed, dw. ver. fjfd, verkleumd. to Beseech, b. w. fmeken, bid- den, dringend verzoeken. Betook, o. t. van to Betake. to Betray, b. w. verraden ; 2) ontrouw, trouweloos jegensie- mand worden, to Betrust, b. w. toe of aaxver- trouwen. Better, bv. en bw. vergelijkonde trap van good; the sooner the better, hoe eer hoe beter, hoe cer hoe liever; to get the bet- ter of, overtreffen, de loef af- Beken. Beside, B: ides, vz. naast, bij, | Between, vz. tusfchen. bw. bovendien, daarenboven. to Besiége, b. w. belegaren. to Bespeak, b. w. bestellen, be- Sproken; to bespeak a place on board a ship, cene plaats aan boord van een fchip beftellen. Best, bv. overtreffende trap van good, het, de beste; 2) 2. the best, his best, zijn best; he made the best of his way home, A } to Beware, o. w. zich hoeder, zich wachten; beware of that, wees daarvoor op awe hoeds wacht u daarvoor, beware of falling sick, wordt niet ziek, to Bewdil, b. w. betreuren, be- weenen. to Bewitch, b. w. betooveren. Beyond, vz, aangene zijde, over vooruit. Ff3 to 354 во ΒΙ to Bid, b. w. verzoeken, 2) be. velen; 3) to bid one farewell, to bid one adieu, iemand vaar- wel zoggen, affcheid van ie- mand nemen. Big, bv. groot, dik. Bigger, verg. trap van Big, the bigger, z. de grootten (onder de jonge lieden). Bigness, z. grootte, dikte. Bill, z. de fnavel, de bek. Billow, z. de baar, z. de baar, golfa to Bind, b. w. binden, zamen. binden, 2) f. verbinden; to bind one's self an apprentice, zich als leerling in dienst be- geven. Binding, z. het binden, do band. Birchen, bv. birchen bark, ber- kenfchors. Bird, z. de vogel. Earth, z..de geboorte; birthday, de geboortedag, de verjaardag van iemands geboorte. B.scait, z. beſchuit, tweebak, Scheepsbeschuit, fcheepsbrood. Bit, z. eene beet, een mondvol ; a bit of bread, cene bete broods; 2) een stukje; a bit of iron, sen flukje ijzer. Bitter, bv. bitter. Bitterness, z. de bitterheid, 2) kommer, droefheid, verdriet. Black, bv. zwart. Black, z. een zwarte, een ne- gor, een moor. to Blame, b. w. laken, berispen, afkeuren. Blámeable, bv. laakbaar, beris" pelijk, frafbaar. Blast, z. ket blazen van den wind, een harde wind, con rukwind: Blázc, z. de brand; a ship all in a blaze, een fchip in lichter laaijer vlamme. to Bléat, o. w. blaten (als de Schapen). : to Blèss, b. w. zegenen, geluk. kig maken; bless me! lieve hemel! Blessing, z. de zegen, 2) het ge- luk, de welvaart, het welzijn. Blew, o. t. van to Blow. Blind, bv. blind. Blister, z. eigenlijk eene blaas maar ook datgene hetwelk bla- zen trekt of zuigt, een trek- pleister, Spaanfche vlieg. Blockhead, z. een domoor, een frommeling. B'òod, z. het bloed. > Bloodshed, z. het bloedftorten.) | Bloody, bv. bloedig. Blossom, z. de bloesem. Blotch Z. cone zweer " buil. Blów, z. een flag, foot, houw. to Blów, o. w. waaijen, bla- zen; the wind blew, de wind woei of waaide, 2) opvliegen (van buskruid fprekende); the ship blew up, het schip Sprong in de lucht, 3) bw. f. to blow ont one's brains, iemand eene kogel door den kop jagen. Blówn, dw. van to Blow. Blue, bv. bladuw. Blunder, z. een grove misflag, domme ftreek. Board, z. cene plank, een deel, 2) de rand van een ſchip, het boord; to go on board, asu boord gaan; to cast over board. over boord werpen. to Búast, b. w. ce o. w. (met of), zich beroemen. Boat, z. de boot; het fchip. Bodily, bv. ligchamelijk; bo- dily exercises, ligchaamsoefe. mix. BO 355 BR ningen; bodily strength, lige, Bottle, z. Bottle, z. chaamskrachten. Body, z. hes ligchaam, het lijf; > a dead body, cen lijk, 2) een perfoon, van daar: some body, iemand; nobody, niemand, 3) eene menigte perfonen als: the body of the clergy, het lig chaam der geestelijkheid. to Boil, o. w. kokon; the water began to boil, het water be- gon te koken, 2) b. w. koken; to boil meat, vleesch koken. Bold, bv. koen, driest, onver- fchrokken, vrijpostig, vrij. moedig, rockeloos. Boldly, bw. op eene vrijmoedi- ge, drieste wijzs. ecne flesch ecne flesch; a bottle of wine, eene flasch wijn, do bodem van de zee; he went to the bottom, hij ging te grön- de, hij verzonk. Bough, z. de tak van cenes boom. Bòught, o. t. van to Buy. Bounce! uitroeping om eenigen plotfelijken flag te kennen te gevens Bound, dw, en o. t. van to Bind, the ship was bound to Amster- dam, het fchip was naar Am- fterdam beftemd. Bound, z. de grensfcheiding, grens, grenspaal. Boldness, z. onbevreesdheid,vrij- Bountiful, bv. mild, grootmoe moedigheid. Bolt, z. de grendel; with strong iron bolts, met fterke ijzeren grendels. Bind, z. de band. Bóne, z. cen been, (deel van het gebeente): whalebone, balein of walvischbeer; fishbones, graten, (vischgraten). B ok, z. het boek. Boón, z. het gefchenk, de gift. Boot, z. de laars; halfboots, halye laarzen, Boty, z. de buit. Bóre, dw. yan to Bear. to Bore, b. w. boren. Bare, z. de boor. Born, Borne, dw. van to Bear, the ship was born by a strong tide, het fchip werd door ec- nen hoogen vloed voortgedre- ven, 2) geboren. to Borrow, b. w. borgen, lee- nen, (ontleenon). Búsom, z. de boezem, de borst. Both, bv. boide. | dig, weldadig. Bountifully, bw. grootmoediglijk, milddadiglijk. Bounty, z. mildheid, goedheid. to Bow, (aitgeſpreken als bou), b. w. en o. w. buigen. B'w, (uitgesproken als boo), z. en boog. Bower, z. een pricel, zomer- huisje. Bowl, z eene kom. Bowl, z. sene kogel, een bal, een bol. Bowsprit, z. de boegſpriet. Box, z. eene doos, een koker. B`y, z. een jongen, een knaap ; my boy, lieve jongen! Bráce, z. een paar; a brace of pistols, een paar pistolên. Bráidstitch, z. de kettingftrek. Brain Bráin, z. de hersenen; wanneer men de verstandelijke vermo- gen wil te kennen geven, heeft dit woord moest het mv., ic puzzled his brains, hij brak zich het hoofd daarover; his Ff4 + A brains 356 BR BR 1 brains worked heeft dezelfde | Breast, z. de borst.\ bersekonis. Brake, z. eene braak, het werk- tuig waarmede men vlas of hennip braakt. Bramble, Z. een braambezien. fruik. Bran, z. zemelen. Branch, boom. z. de tak van eenen Brand, z. de brand. to Brandish, b. w. zwaaijen; to brandish a lance cene lans, cenc Speer zwaaijen; to bran- dish a sword, een zwaard of drgen zwaaijen. Brandy, z. brandowijn. Brasil, z. Brazilie (in Zuida- merika). Brave, by. moedig, koon, 2) braaf, cerlijk. to Br ve, b. w. uitdagen, trot- Seren, het hoofd bieden. Bravely, bw. dapper, onverfchrok- ken, bruaf. Bravery, z. de dapperheid, moed. Bravo, tusfchenw. bravo! voor- treffelijk. Bread, z. brood; brown bread, roggen brood, zwart brood. Beadtree, z. de broodboom. Breadth, z. de breedte. to Break, b. w. an o. w. broken, verbreken, verfcheuren; the cable broke, de kabel brak; to break down, afbreken, omha- len, 2) fig. het aanbreken (van den dag); when the day brake, toen de dag aanbrak; to break loose, losbreken, losbarsten. Break, z. de breuk; 2) the break of day, het kricken, het aan- breken van den dag. Breakfast, z. het ontbijt. to Breakfast, b. w. ontbijten, zich ontnachteren. Breastwork, z. de borstweer, da verfchanfing. Breath z. de adem; to draw breath, adem halen; he was out of breath, 2) een zacht windje, een luchtje. to Breathe, o. w. ademen, adem fcheppen, adem halen, 2) b. w inademen, 3) uitademen. Breathless, bv, ademloos, buiten adem. Bred, o. t. en dw. van to Breed. Breeches, z. mv. de brook; a pair of breeches, eene broek; riding breeches, cene rijbroek. to Bréed, b. w. opvoeden, groot brengen; tenderly bred up, weekelijk opgevoed, teederlijk opgevoed. Brethren, z. broeders, Leone on regelmatige vorm van het my. van brother). Bick, z. een bakfcen, brikſeen, klinker, tigchel. : Bicklayer, z. een metselaar. Bickmaker, z. cen steenbakker. Bickwall, z. een fteenen mupṛ. Bidge, z. do brug; a draw brid- ge, een ophaalbrug. Bright, bv. holder, blinkend, Blank. B.instone, z. de zwavel. to B lug, b. w、 brengen; to bring about, (even als to bring to bear), tot stand brengen; to bring up, opvoeden, groot brengen. Brink, z. de rand; the brink of a precipice, de rand van cenen afgrond. Brisk, bv. levendig; a brisk fire, een vrolijk vuur. Broad, z. breed; 2) broad day, klaar RU 357 BU klaar lichten dag; 3) a broad- sword, een fabel, pallasi. Broke, o. t. van to Break. Broken, dw, yan to Break. Bróker, z. de makelaar. Brook, z. cene beek, kleine ri- vier. Broth, Z. vleeschnat. Brother, z. de broeder. Brotherly, bv. broederlijk. Brought, o. t. en dw. van to Bring. Brów, z. het voorhoofd, 2) het gcheele aangezigt; by the sweat of his brow, in het zweet zijns aanfchijns. Bundle, z. een bundel, bosch. Burden, z. de last, het pak, de vracht. B rdensome, bv. zwaar, lastig. Burried, dw. van to Bury. to Barn, o. w. branden; the fire is bu ning on, het vuur blijft voortbranden; 2) b. w. ver. branden, he had burnt his hands, hij had zijne handen verbrand; to burn one's brick, zijne bak- Aeenon, tigchels bakken; to bura lime, kalk branden. Burning, bv. en dw. gloeijend branden; the burning heat, de brandende hitte. Brown, bv. bruin; brown bread, Burnt, o. t. en dw. van to Burn. zwart brood. to Bruise, b. w., kneuzen; be was braised by falling, hij had zich in het vallen bezeerd. Bruise, z. eene kneuzing, cene ligte wonde. Brush, z. de borstel. Brutal, bv. wild, becstachtig, wreed. Brutality, z, wreedheid, onmen- fchelijkheid. Rúte, z. een beest, een reden. loos dier. Brútish, bv. beestachtig, dom, wild. Brutishness, z. wilde, beestach. tige wreedheid. to Bulble, o. w. opborrelen. to Barst, o. w. barsten; 2) f. to burst into tears, in tranen nit- barfen. Burst, o. t. en dw. yan to Burst. Barthen, zie Burden. Barthensome, zie Burden. to Bury, b. w. begraven. B sh, z. de fruik, het kreupel- hout. Bushel, z. een ſchepel. Busily, bv. ijverig, druk; be was busily employed, hij was druk bezig. Business, z. de bezigheid; upon some business, om eene of an- dere zaak, bezigheid. Buskin, 2. eene halve laars. B sile, z. het geraas, godruisch. to Bad, o. w. knopjes uitſchio- | Basy, bv. bezig; to be busy with ten, uitbatten. to B ild, b. w. bouwen. Builder, z. een bouwer, bouw- meester, bouwheer. Bilding, z. het bouwen, 2) het gebouw. Built, o. t. en dw. van to Build. Bulb, z. een uijs, een bol, (wor- tel van cenige plant). a ching, met iets bezig zijn, 2) werkzaam › to Busy, b. w. to busy himself, zich bemoeijen. Bat, FES maar, doch, 2) flechts maar; I have but three guineas: ik heb flechts drie guineas, 3) ware het niet om, sier ws- gens; but for the storm, ward 358 BY BU er geen form geweest; (we- gens de overige beteekenisfen van dit voegwoord, zie de Spraakkunst). to Butcher, b. w. flagten. Butter, z. de boter. Buttermilk, z. de karnmelk. to Button, b. w. toeknoopen. to Bay, b. w. koopen. By, vz. bij, (eene plaats aan. duidende); he lives by himself, hij woont alleen, 2) bij, (tijd aanwijzende); by break of day, bij het aanbreken van den dg; by this time, om dezen tijd, nu, thans, 3) door, door middel van; by degrees, traps- in gec. gewijzi; by no means, nerlei wijze, in het geheel niet. CA Cabin, z. de kajuit. Cable, z. het ankertoaw, de ka- bel, het kabeltouw. Gewoon lijk is het 600 voeten, of 120 vademen lang, weshalve men hetzelve aan boord der Sche- pen als eenen maatstaf voor. andere lengten bezigt; they had scarce rowed four cables length from the ship. Cacao, z. de kakao, (de vrucht waarvan de chocolade voorṇa- melijk bereid wordt). Cage, z. cene kooi. Calendar, z. een almanak, tijd- wijzer. to Calculate, b. w. berekenen. Calamity, z. het ongeluk, de we- derwaardigheid, tegenstand. to Call, o. w. en b. w. roepen, Schreeuwen; to call to, toc- roepen, 2) noemen. Calling, z. het beroep, de roe- ping. Calm, bv. ftil, kalm, gerust. Calm, z. de kalmte, file. to Calm, bw. gerust fellen, ftil- len, bevredigen. Cáme, o. t. van to Come. Camel, z. do kameel. CA Camerade, beter Comrade, Z. ka“ meraad, makker. Campeche, (van het Spaansch Campechio), z. het, in het Amerikaansch gewest Campe. che te huis hoorende, verw. hout, Brazilienhout, ook Log- wood, zie Logwood. to Can, o. w. kunnen; I cannot but, ik moes. Canal, z. eene gracht, eene bree- de gracht, een kanaal. Cànarybird, z. cen kanarievogel. the Canaryislands, z. mv. de Ka. narifche eilanden. Candle, z. de kaars; by candle- light, bij het kaarslicht. Candour, z. opregtheid. Cine, z. rotting, riet; sugar- cane, fuikerriet. Cannibal, z. een inwoner van de Caraïbifche eilanden, een ka· nibaal, menfchenster. Cannon, z. een stuk gef.hut, cen kanon, (a piece of cannon). Cannonball, z. sen kanonkogel. Canóe, z. eene kano, eene door wilden vervaardigde boot. Canopy, z. the canopy of heaven, de sterrenhemel; under the ca. no. CA 859 CA nopy of heaven, onder den bloo- | Careless, bv. zorgeloos, onbe- ten hemel. Can't, in plaats van Cannot. Cap, z. de muts; to pull off one's cap, zijne muts afnemen. Capable, bv. (met: of) bekwaam, in faat. Capacious, bv, ruim. Capacity, z. de bekwaamheid, het vermogen. Cápe, z. een voorgebergte, cene kaap; Cape - verd Islands, de Kaapverdische eilanden, de eilanden van het groene voor. gebergte. to Caper, o. w. Springen, hup pelen. Captain, z. de fcheepskapisein. Captive, z. een gevangene. Captive, bv. gevangen; the cap- tive lama, het gevangene lama. Capuvity, z. de gevangenfchap. Caracter, zie Character. Caravan, z. eene karavane, een gezelschap van reizigers of reizende perfonen, die zich tot onderlinge veiligheid ver- cenigen. Carcass, z. een dood ligchaam, een lijk. Cardamomum, z. (als Kardamum uitgesproken), paradijskoren, zeker graan. Cáre, z. zorg, zorgvuldigheid; | to take care, zorg dragen, 2) voorzigtigheid. to Care, o. w. zorgen, 201g dragen. kommerd, achteloos. Carelessness, z. zorgeloosheid, achteloosheid. to Carèss, b. w. liefkozen, fire- len. Carèss, z. liefkozing. Cargo, z. de lading van een Schip. Caribée, z. een der Karaïbiſche eilanden in Westindien. Carpenter, z. een timmerman Scheepstimmerman; carpenter's work, timmermanswerk, tim- merwerk. Carpet, z. het vloerkleed, ta. pijt; f. there was something upon the carpet, er was iets agaande, er was iets op her sapijt. Carriage, z. voerwerk, rijtuig, 2) een affuit. to Carry, b. w. voeren, gelei- den, a) rijden, varen, weg- voeren, 3) dragen, 4) f. in het werk ftellen, ten uitvoer brengen; to carry one's point, zijn oogmerk bereiken, 5) (mer off), wegflepen; the con. sumption carried him off, ds sering fleepte hem in het graf, 6) (met on), voortvaren, voortzetten, vervolgen. Càrt, z. de kar; a carthorse, esn karrepaard. to Carve, z. Snijden, aan ftuk- ken snijden, 2) fierlijk befnij❤ den, infnijden. Careful, bv. zorgvuldig, bekom-Case, mard, behoedzaam, vlijtig; | " z. het geval; in case, in gsval. careful of his life, voor zijn Cast, z. een vat. leven zorgende. Carefully, bw. zorgvuldiglijk, voorzigtiglijk, 2) angftig- lijk. to Càst, b. w. werpen, linge- ren; to cast anchor, her anker werpen; a lance, eene lans werpen; £ to cast a look, com blik 360 CH CE blik werpen; 2) to cast down One's eyes, zijne oogen noder- faar; 8) to cast forth fire vuur aitwerpen, vuar bra uitwer- ken; 4) to cast up, I pen, opwerpen. Castle', z. een flot, een kasteel. Cat, z. de kat. to Càtch, b. w. vangen; 2) f. to catch fire, yunr patton; to catch cold, koude vatten, ver- koud worden. : Catchéek, z. een Kazike, Cazi- ke (een Mexikaansch vorst). Catholick, a Roman catholick, z. een Roomschgezinde. Cattle, z. tam vee, kudden, Cave, z. een onderaardsch hol, 2) een kelder. Càrern, z. eene Spelonk, esn hol. Caught, o t.en dw.van to Catch. Cavity, z. de holte, het hol. Cause, z. de oorzaak, de grond, de rede. to Cause, b. w. veroorzaken, bewerken. Caution, z. voorzorg, voorzig- tigheid. to Caution, b. w. waarschuwen. Cautious, bv. voorzigtig", bc- hoedzaam, waakzaam. to Céase, o. w. ophouden, (ge woonlijk met from), the wind céases, de wind gaat liggen. to Celebrate, b. w. vieren, pleg- tig vieren. Celerity, z. Spoed, fchielijkheid. fnelheid, gezwindheid. Cellar, z. de kelder. to Cènsure, b. w. laken, be- rispen. Centinel, z. (ook Centry), de Schildwacht. Century, z. ecne eeuw. Cèremony, z. plegtigheid, pligts pleging; without any ceremony, zonder pligtplegingen. Cèrtain, bv. zeker; I know it for certain, ik weet het zeker, 3) ook in eenen onbepaalden zin, gelijk het Hollandfche woord zeker; a certain kind of clay, zekere foort van vette klei. Certainly, bw. zekerlijk. Cèrtainty z. de zekerheid. to Cháce, (chase), b. w. jagen, drijven; to chase away, ver- jagen, verdrijven. Cháce, z de jagt. to Chafe, b. w. door wrijven verwarmen. Ch in, z. de ketting, 2) cons reeks van met elkander ver- bondene zaken of dingen; chain of rocks, cene koten van Fotfen, een rif. Ch is, z. de ftoel. to Challenge, b. w. tot den ftrijd uitdagen. Chamber. Z. de kamer; bed. chamber, de slaapkamer ; a va'et de chamber, een kamer• dienaar. Champion, z. de kamprechter. Chance, z. de kans, het geval, toeval, geluk; by chance, soc" valligerwijze, bij toeval. to Chance, o. w. toevallig go- beuren, voorvallen; he chan- ced to have, hij had bij toe- val; I may chance to fall, gelijk val ik. mo to Change, b. w. veranderen, verwisselen, railen; to change a mouse into a bird, sene muis in eenen vogel veranderen, 2) o. w. zich veranderen. Chioge, z. de verandering, vor- wisfeling. Chà. CH 361 CH Channel, z. de zeeengte, en be- paaldelijk de zecëngte tusfchen Engeland en Frankrijk, kanaal. het Chapter, z. het hoofdfuk, ka- pirrel. Character, z. their comrades gave them the best character, hunne kameraden gaven het beste ge- tuigenis van hen, besuigden dat zij brave, eerlijke lieden | Waren. to Charge, b. w. laden, bela- den, een goweer of naphaan laden, iets opdragen of belas- ten met iets. Charge, z. de last, lading, vracht, 2) het ambt, de waar- digheid, eerpost, 3) kes op. zigt, de zorg. Cheer, z. ken; to make good cheer, heer- lijk eten, fmullen. ijs, eten en drin. to Cheer, b. w. opwekken, be- moedigen, opruimen, vrolijk maken, to cheer one's mind, zijnen geest vervrolijken, 2) o. w. vrolijk worden; cheer up! heifa, laat ons vrolijk zijn! houdt goeden moed! Cheerful, bv. vrolijk, opgeruimd, blijde. Cheerfully, bw. met blijdschap. Cheerfulness, Z. vrolijkheid, blijdschap. Cheerly, bw. vrolijk, met blijd- Schap. Cheese, z. de kaas. to Chèrish, b. w. koesteren, var- warmen. Chargeable, by, tot last, lastig, | Chèst, z. de kas, de kist. - bezwaarlijk. Charm, z. de bekoorlijkheid. to Charm, b. w. bakoren, inne- men, besooveren. Charming, bv. bekoorlijk, aller- liefst. Charm (uitgesproken als Kasm), z. het vak, de ledige ruimte, de gaping. to Chatter, to Chat, o. w. pra- sen, kouten, babbelen. Chief, bv. hoofdzakelijk, voer. naamfte; his chief business was, zijne voorsaamfte bezighei2 bestond in; the chief contents het hoofdzakelijke van den in- houd. Chief, z. de voornaamste perſoon, opperbevelhebber. Chiefly, bw. voornamelijk, in- zonderheid. Child, z. het kind. Chattering, z. het gepraat, het Childhood, z. de kindfchejaren, gebabbel. de kindsheid. Chéarful, bv. (ook cheerful), zie | Childish, bv. kindsch, kinder- Cheerful en volg. to Cheat, b. w. bedriegen. achtig. van Children, z. mv. van Child. Chéat, z. bedriegerij, het be. Chimney, z. de fchoorsteen. rog, 2) een bedrieger. to Chéck, b. w. te keer gaan, kearen, fluiten, terug hou. den; to check one's indigna- tion, zijne verontwaardiging | verbergen. Cheek, z. de wang, de koon. Chimèrical, bv. (uitgeſp, also Kunerical), herſenſchimmig ongegro d, lidel, ingebeeld. Của, z. de kin. Colsel, de boitel. Chocolate, z. de chocolade. Choice, z. de keuze, verkiezing. Cheice, 362 CL CI Choice, bv. uitgelezen, uitge-to Civilize, b. w. befchaven. Rocks, voortreffelojk; the choi- cest blessingh, de beste zegen. to Choose, to Chuse, b. w. kie Zen, verkiezen, willen, ver- Sangen, wenfchen; he chose rother to play than to work, hij wilde liever spelen dan wer- ken; if you chuse it, indien gij het verlangt, als het u behaagt. Chóse, o. t. van to Choose. Chosen, dw. van to Choose. Christian, z. een christen; bv. christelijk. Church, z. do kerk. Churchyard, z. hes kerkhof. Chain, z. de kern, het kernvat, do boterkern. to Chura, b. w. kernen, boter makes. to Chise, zie to Choose. Cinder, z. de kool, (van vaur). Cinnamon, z. de kaneel. Circle, z. de kring, firkel. Circuit, z. de omtrek. Circular, bv. firkelvormig, rond. Circumference, z. de omtrek, om- yang. Circumspèction, z. de voorzigtige beid, omzigtigheid. Circumstance, z. de omftandig- heid, a) my. toestand, mot be- arekking tot vermogen; his circumstances were altered, zijn Booff and was veranderd. Circumstantial, bv. omftandig ; a circumstantial account, een om- Bandig verbaal of berigt. Cisars, z. my. de ſchaar. Citizen a. de burger fellow- citizen, modeburger, Cley, 2. do ftad. j Civil, bv, burgerlijk, a) beleefd, willayand, befchoofd. to Clamber, b. w. met moeite be▪ klimmen, beklouteren. to Clap, b. w. flaan; clapping their bands, met de hander klappende ; 2) he clapt the match to the touch - hole, hij bragt de lont aan het zundgar. Clap, Z. een flag; a clap of thunder, een donderslag. to Clasp, b. w. clasped hands, gevouwene handen. to Clatter, b. w. ratelen, klet teren, geraas maken als mes wapenen enz. Clattering, z. clattering of arms, een wapengekletter. Cláw, z. de klaaw. Clay, z. de leem, klei, pot- aarde. Cléan, bv. zindelijk, fchoon, rein; clean linen, fchoon lin- nen. to Clean, b. w. zuiveren, ſchoon maken, wasfchen, reinigen. Cléaner, z. iemand die zuivert of fchoonmaakt; a cleaner of flax, iemand die het vlas zuš- VBTS. Clear, bv. helder, klaar, rein, zuiver, 2) opgeruimd, vro- lijk, §) vrij van gevaar; they got alcar of the sandbank, zij maakten zich van de zandbank los, 4) duidelijk, luid, helder (van klank); a clear voice, ee. ne heldere ftem. to Clear, o. helder worden, opklaron; the shy cleared up, do lucht werd holder, 2) b. w. heldar maken, ophelderen, 3) zuiveren, reinigen, ontdoen, vrijmaken, ontlasten, he clear- ed his cave from the rubbish, kif suiverde zijnhel van de pwin Clear CL 363 CƠ Clearly, b. duidelijk, oogen- ſchijnlijk. to Cleave, b. w. klooven, ſpliji ten ; to cleave wook, hout klooven. Clergyman, z. een geestelijke. Clerk, z. (uitgeſpr. als Klaark), een klerk, koopmans of kay- toorbediende. Clèver, bw. knap, handig; ah clever! mooi geraden. Cliff, z. de klip, ffeile rats. Climate, z. de luchsgefteldheid, het klimaat, de luchtftroek. tô Climb, b. w. en 0. w. beklim" men, opklimmen. to Cling, o. w. aan iets hangen; where they cling to the rocks, waar zij (de oesters) aan de rotfen klaven. Cloath, zie Cloth. Clock, z. klok, uurwerk, horo- logie; at two o'clock (at two on the clock), ten twee aren. Clèd, z. de kluit, aardkleit. to Close, b. w. fluiten, toefui- ten. Close, z. het beſlaît, ks: prinde; the close of the day, het einde van den dag, de avondſchens ring. Close, bv. ingefloten, befloten, 2) digt, vast; to draw close, wast te trekken, 3) na bij el- kander, digt bij; close by A- merica, nabij Amerika; a clo- se fighting, een handgevecht, 4) geheim, verborgen; to keep close, geheim houden. Closely, bw. naauw, eng; clo- sely united, naauw verbonden, naauw met elkander vereenigd. | Cloth, z. de ftoffe, het laken, - hes laken, 2) de kleeding, Woch meer gebruikelijk in het mv. Clothes, a suit of clothes, een volledig kleed); to put on one's clothes, zich kleeden; to pull off one's clothes, zich ons- kleeden. to Clothe, b. w. kleeden Cloud, z. de wolk. Gloudy, bw. bewolkt, betrokken, the sky becomes cloudy, de lucht betrekt, wordt met wolken be- dekt. Clove, z. de kruïdnagel. Club, z. de knots, knappet. | Clùng, dw. en o. t. yan to Cling. C'ùster, z. de druiventros. Coach, z. de koets. Cual, z. de kool, fteenkool, vuur- kool. Coarse, bv. grof (van stoffen), 2) a coarse voice, eene ruw?, grove stem, 2) lomp, plomp', ongemanierd. Coast, z. de kust. Coat, z. de rok; coatpocket, de rokzak. Cock, z. de haan. Cockleshells, z. fchulpen, mos“ felfchulpen. Cocoa, Cocoa nut, zde kokos. 10080 Cócoatree, z. de kokosboom, CET no foort van palmboom. Còd, zi ftokvisch, gedroogde ka- beljaauw. Còdfisher, z. een fokvischvan- ger, kabeljaauwvanger. Còdfishery, z. de ftokvischyangst, kabeljaauwyangst. Còd, z. de peul, de fchil. Còffee, z. de koffij. Cogitation, z. de gedachte, over- denking; absorbed in despond- ing cogitations, in wanhopige gepeins verzonken, Gg # to 364 со CO to Cỏin, b. w. munien, geld- faan, tempelen. nieren; to take comfort, moed vatten. Cóin, z. gemunt geld; in coin, Còmfortable, bv. troostrijk, 2') in klinkende munt. Cóld, bv. koud. Cold, z. de koude; to die of cold, van koude sterven, 2) de ver- kouding; R. will get a cold, R. zai koude vatten. to Collect, b. w. verzamelen, bijeenbrengen. Collection, z. ecñe verzameling. Colony, z. cene volkplanting, kolonie. Colour, z. de kleur. to Colour, b. w. verwen, kleu- ren; coloured, gekleurd, bont; coloured stones, bonte foenen. Comb, z. de kam. Combatant, z. de ftrijder, ftrij- dende. Combustible, bv. brandbaar. to Come, o. w. komen; to come off, van afkomen, wegkomen, wegraken; the time to come, de toekomst; all what is to co- me, al wat nog toekomende is, al wat er gebeuren zal; when you come to be better instruct ed, wanneer gij beter onder. rigt zult zijn. Comely, bv. aangenaam, beval lig; a comely, handsome young man, een bevallig jongeling. to Comfort, b. w. verkwikken, fterken, 2) troosten, 3) ver- blijden; to be comforted with sleep, door den flaap verkwikt worden. Comfort, z. de hulp, a) troost, 3) vermaak, geluk; the com- fort of his fellowcreatures assis- tance, het geluk van de hulp zijner medefchepfelen te ge- aangenaam, verblijdend, ge. noegelijk; the comfortable voi- ce of a friend, de aangename ften eenes vriends; a comfor- table supper, een aangenaam, Smakelijk, genoegelijk avond- a comfortable state of life, een zorgenvrij, onbekom- merd, gerust, aangenaam leven. Comfortably, bw. op cone aange- name wijže. eten ; Comfortless, bv. troosteloos. Còmical, bv. grappig, aardig, boldgchelijk. to Command, b. w. bevolen; to command a ship, het bevel over een schip voeren, 2) beft rije ken; two cannons commanded the right flank, twee kanonnen boftreken de regter zijde. Command, z. het bevel. Commander, z. de bevelhebber. to Commènce, b. w. beginnen, aanvangen. to Commend, z. aanbevelen, aan- prijzen, prijzen. | Commendable, o. loffelijk, prijs- waardig. > Commentary, z uitlegging, ver- klaring, verklarende aas- merking. Commerce, z. de koophandel, handel. Commission, z. de last, gedra- gene boodschap of werkzaam- heid, 2) het begaan; the com- mission of a fault, het begaan eener dwaling. ! to Commit, b. w. toevertrouwen, opdragen, belasten ; 2) to com- mit a fault, a blunder, a cri. me, eenen uitslag, eene lampe four. CO 365 CO faut, eene misdaad begaan of Complaining, z. de klagt, her plegen. Commodious, bv. gemakkelijk. Commodiously, bw. gemakkelijk. Commodity, z. gemakkelijkheid. Còmmon, bv. gemoen; common sense, het natuurlijk of ge- zond verftand, 2) gemeenschap- pelijk, 3) algemeen. Commosly, bw. gemeenlijk, ge• woonlijk. Commotion, z. beweging, 011- rust, volksbeweging, 2) ge- meedsbeweging, ontroering. to Communicate, b. w. mededeelen. Companion, z. de makker, ge- zel, kameraad. Company, z. het gezelfchap. to Compáre,. b. w. vergelijken. Comparison, z. de vergelijking. to Compass, b. w. omringen, omgeven, omvatten, infchie- ton, 2) too geraken, berei. den, verkrijgen; that we can all compass, daartoe kunnen wij alle geraken, dat kennen wij allen bereiken. Compass, z. de kring, de om. trek, 2) het kompas, (de mag- rectnaald in derzelver doos, dienende tot aanwijzing var het Noorden). • Compassion, z. lat medelijden, de ontferming; to have come passion on one, medelijden met iemand hebben. Compassionate, bv. medelijdend. to Compèl, b. w.dwingen, nood- zaken. Competent, bv. regtmatig, LB hoorlijk, voldoende; a compe- tent fluency in reading, eens ge- veiligheid in het 1100g zame lezen. to Complain, o. w. over iets kla- gen, zich beklagen, klagen, Complaint, z. zie Complaining. Compléat, zie Complete. Complete, bv. volledig, volko. men a complete idea, een vol- ftandig begrip. to Compléte, b. w. volledig ma- kon, voltooijen, 2) tet ftand brengen, voleindigen. Complétely, bw. geheel, vol. komen. Complexion, z. de kleur van het aangezigt. Compliment, Z. groet; to send one's compliments, zijnen grost, zijne groetenis zenden. to Comply, b. w. (met with), o. voreenfiemmen, toeftaan, zich laten welgevallen. to Compose, b. w. opfielleu, ver. vaardigen, 2) toebereiden, ge- reed maken; to compose one's self to sleep, zich tot flapen ſchikken. Composed, dw. zamengefteld, bri faande; to be composed, be- Haan. Composure, z. with the greatest composure, met de grootte be- daardheid, met de grootste gen rustheid. to Comprehend, o. w. in zich he, vatten; inhouden, 2) begrij. pen, bevatten, verstaan. Comprehensible, bv. bevattelijk. Comprised, dw. bevat, begrepen. Computation, z. da berekening. to Compute, b. w. rekenen, be- rekenen. Comrade, z. kameraad, makker. Concavity, z. de holte. to Conceal, b. w. verbergen. Concéit, z. de voorfelling, het G g 3 be- 366 CO CO grip ,´2) het verftand, het voorstellingsvermogen. , to Conceive b. w. begrijpen, bevatten, verftaan, inzien; to conceive an idea, op eene ge- dachte komen. to Concentrate, b. w. te zamen" trekken, op een punt veree- nigen. to Concèrn, b. w. aangaan, be- treffen, 2) verontrusten, bo- droeven; to be concerned, be. kommerd zijn, verlegen zijn, (met about). Concèrning, dw. betreffende, aan- gaande. Concèrted, dw. a well concèrted ރ plan, een wel overlegd plan. to Conclúde, b. w. fluiten, be- fluiten, $) eindigen. Conclusion, z. de beflisfing, het oordeel, 2) het flot, befluis ; at the conclusion of my narra- tion, aan het einde van mijn verhaal. Concord, z. sendragt, eensge- zindheid. Concurrence, z. medewerking, halp, bijftand. to Condemm, b. w. veroordeelen.. Condition, z. de gefteldheid eenor zaak, de toeftand; a walful condition, een droevige toe- ftand, 2) de voorwaarde; upon condition, onder voorwaarde. Conducive, bv. behulpzaam, be- vorderlijk. so Conduct, b. w. leiden, voeren, brengen. Conduct, z. het gedrag. to Confèr, b. w. toedeelen, (met upon, cn), to caufer a benific, eene weldaad bewijzen. o Confèr dignities upon one, waar digheden aan iemand opdrages. to Confèss, b. w. bekennen, e7. kennen. to Confide, o. w. (met in), zijm vertrouwen fellen; to confide in God, op God vertrouwen. Confidence, z. het vertrouwen. to Coufine, o, w. nan iets gren. zen, 2) b. w. influiten, 3) op- Buiten. Confinement, z. gevangenschap. to Confirm, b. w. bevestigen, 2) ook in den zin van fterker maken, bevestigen. Conflict, z. het gevecht., to Conform, o. w. zich naar idi rigten, fchikken, infchikken. Confounded, ontroerd, 3) wan- hopig; a confounded thing, es❤ ne wanhopige zaak, eens zeer onaangename zaak. to Confuse, b. w. verwarren; a confused noise, een verward gefchreeuw, een verward go. raas. Confusion, z. de verwarring, 2) beſchaming, ontroering. to Congratulate, b. w. gelukwen ſchen. Cònic, Cònick, bv. kegelvormig; a conick mountain, cen kegel- vormige berg. Conjècture, z. do gisting, her vermoeden. to Conjecture, b. w. vermoeden, vooronderftellen. Coùjurer, z. een toovenaar. to Connect, b. w. verbinden; conneered, verbonden, zaMOR- hangend. to Conquer, b. w. overwinnen ; to conquer ourselves, ons zol- ven overwinnen. 1- Conscience, z. het gewetem; li- berty conscience, vrijheid vas go. σο 367 CO geweten, vrijheid van denk' wijze. Conscientiously, bw. met een goed geweten, in geweten: Conscious, bw. bewust (met of), to be conscious of wicked ac- tions, zich zelven flechte da- den bewust zijn. Consciousness, z. bewustheid. to Consent; b. w. toeftemmen, inwilligen. Consent, z toeftemming: Consequence; › Z.-hei gevolg, 2) het gewigt; a matter of con sequence, cene zaak van gewigt. Consequently, bw. gevolgelijk. · Conservation, z. het behoud: to Consèrve, b. w. bewaren, bes houden. Conserver; z. de behouder. Consider, b. w. beſchouwen, aan- zien; they were considered as wise men, zij werden aange merkt als wijze lieden, 2) be- denken, overwegen in over- weging nomen. Considerable, bv. aanzienlijk, aanmerkelijk. · Considerably, bv. zeer, groote lijks, aanmerkelijk. Consideration, z. de bedenking, overweging. to Consist, o. w. beftoon, uit iets zamengesteld zijn (mesof). Consistent, bv. beftaanbaar, wat beftaan kan overeenkomftig (met iets). Consolation, z. de troost. to Console, b. w troosten. Conspiracy, z. de muiterij, de opftand, de zamenzwering. Constancy, z. de flåndvastigheid. Constant, bv. gedurig, 2; ftand- vastig; a constant resolutiou, gen vast befuit, a constant ru-› ! le, en vasto felreget, com onverbrekelijke regel. Constantly, bw: geduriglijk, fande· vastiglijk. Consternation, z. de ontroering, ontzettings יין to Constitute, b. w. inrigten, ſchikken, aanftellen: Constitution, z. inrigting, 2) ligchaamsgefteldheid; to harden one's constitution, zijn lig- chaamsgeftel hard maken, fterk maken, zijne gezondheid vero fterken. to A Construct, b. ws vervaardiə gon, boswen. Construction, z. dë bosworde, sa~- menstelling. to Consult, b. we zich beradën, 2)¿ om raad vragen, raadpleċ- gen; to consult plysicians, ga◄ neesheeren raadplegen. to Consume, b. w. en or w. yeri teren, gebruiken, nuttigen. Consumption, z. de teringziekte. - Contagion, z befmosting, be- fmettelijke ziekte. to Conáin, b. w. inhouden, is zich bevatten, 2) seraghou den, beperken. to Contemplace, b. w. su˚0. W. beſchouwen, 2) overdenken. Contemplation, z. beſchouwing; idle contemplations, kerfen• Schimmen. Con èmpt, z. de verachting. Contemptible, bv. verachtelijki Content, bv. te vreden. to Contènt, b. v. te vreden fiél- len, bevredigen, voldoen. Content, ze tevredenheid; to his beart's content, tot zijne inni- ge tevredenheid; 2) mv. con• tènts, de inhoud; the chief con teños, de hoofdzakelijke inhoud. Q : 4 Сода 363 CO CO Contented, bv. en dw. tevreden, vergenoegd. Contèatment, z. tevredenheid. Contèst, z. de twist, tweeftrijd; a hard contest, een zware ftrijd. Continent, z. het vaste land. Continual, bv. gedurig, onop- houdelijk. Continually, bw. geduriglijk, zon der ophouden. Continuance, z. voortduring. Continuation, z. de voortduring, het vervolg. # Continue, o. w. voortduren, 2) b. w. voortzetten, voortvaren, vervolgen, voortgaan. Contorion, z. de draai, wending, buiging. Contrary, z. het tegendeel; on the contrary, dòarentegen. Contrary, bv. tegen; contrary to their wishes, tegen hunne wen- fchen, ongunstig; 2) the wind was contrary, de wind was te- gin; by contrary winds, door Begenwinden; a contrary idea, eene tegenovergestelde meening Contrast, z. het afflèkendo, het tegenovergestelde, de togen- Stelling. 10 Contribute, b. w. en o. w. bij- dragen. Contribution, z. bijdrager, 2) belasting; an annual coutribu. tion, cone jaarlijkſche ſebat- ting. Cout ivance, z. de uitvinding, | 2) de inrigting; a very wise contrivance eene zeer wijze inrigting. to Contrive, b. w. uitvinden, vorzinnen; he contrived a rape, hij vond middel om een touw te maken; how to contrive that, koe zal men det maken? 2)in• \ rigten; he contrived his kitcheu 30, hij rigtte zijne keuken 200 in. J Convéniency, z.gemakkelijkheid. Convénient, bv. gemakkelijk; a convénient cellar, een gemok- kelijke, een goede kelder, 2) gefchikt, behoorlijk; conveni- eut measures, gefchikte maats regelen; convenient weather gefchikt of gunstig weder. Convéniently, bw. gemakkelijk, geſchikt, 2) ter gelegener tijd, op behoorlijken tijd. to Convèrse, b. w. Spreken, zich met´iemand`onderhouden. Conversation, z. gesprek, onder. houd. די Convert, b. w. veranderen, ver- wisselen; to convert a thing into an habit, iess in´eene 20° woonte doen verkeeren iets tot eene gewoonte maken, 2) bedeeren, 3) tot eenig gebruik aanwenden; to convert to somə use. Convéy, b. w. vonren, brengen. Conviction, z. de overtuiging. to Convince, b. w overtuigen. Convulston, z. ſtuip, ftuiptrek- king. Cook, z. de kok, keukenmeid. to Cook, b, w koken. Cookery, z. het koken, de kook- kunst; the art of cookery, de kookkunst. Coúl, z. de koolte; in the conl of evening, in de avondkoelte. to Cool, b. w. verkoelen. Copie, zie Copy. Cópiously, bw. rijkelijk, over- vloedig. Copper, z. het koper. Copy, z. een affchrift, eene ko◄ pie, 2) con exemplaar; two thou. CO 369 CO thousand copies of it were print. ed, twee duizend cxemplaren werden er van gedrøkt. to Copy, b. w. navolgen, name- ken, naapen. Coral, z. de koraal, kraal, (ze- ker kolk. of ſteenaardig zee- gewas). Cord, z. het koord, het souw, de ftrik, da fnoer. Cordial, by. hartversterkend. Cordial, z. eene hartversterking Cordilleras, z. de Andes, zekere hooge bergketen in Zuid- A- merika, Corn, z. het koorn; a barley corn, een-garstenkoorn of ker- rels, 2) het groan in het al- gemeen. ༡ Corner, z. een hoek; his musing corner, zijn peinshock. Corps, Corpse, & een lijk, dood ligchaam. to Corlet, b. w. beftrafen, Buchtigen, 2) verbeteren; to correct one by pùzishments, ie- mand door tuchtigingen our. beteren. to- Corrupt, b. w. en o. w. ber derven. Corrup er, z, een bedervar. Corruption, z. hat bederf. to Cost, o. w. kosten.. Cust, z. de kosten. Costly, bv. kostelijk, prachtig. Codch, z. legertede, rustbed; a couch of hay, een rustbed van hooi. to Cover, b. w. bedekken, dek- ken, toedekken. Covering, z. het deksel, over- treksel. to Covet, b. w. iets begeren, (meest, van ongeoorloofde be- geerten ſprekende. Could, o. t. van Can, he could not but think, hij kon zich niet onthouden van te denken, hij most op de gedachte komen. Coúnseil, z. raadsvergadering. Counsel, z. de raad. to Count, b. w. tellen, z) beren kenen; he counted his days. hij telde, berekende zijne dagen. Countenance, z. het gelaat, her gezigt, 2) het voorkomen, with a cheerful countenance, met een vrolijk ` gelaatª, 3) bedaardé heid, gemoedsrust; to put out of countenance, in verlegen- heid doen geraken, doen ont Stellen: Counter charm, z. tegenbeto ove ring, onttoovering, bezwering to Counter charm, b. w.Itegenbe- tooveren, onttcoveren, de be- toovering door andere toove narij doen ophouden. to Counterfeit, b. w. namaken navolgen, nabootſen. Country, z. het land, een land, 2) het land, her platte land, in tegenstelling van de ſtad; to live in the country, op het‍ land loven, 3) het vaderland ; be forgot his country, hij ver❤ gat zijn vaderland. Country-man, 3: eep landman, bouwman buisman, boer country people, landlieden (2)" de landsman, de landgenoot. Couple, zo een paar, twee ding gen van dentelfden aard, 2) cen paar, eenige; a couple of times, sen paar malen; 2 couple of miles 2 cen paar wijlen. > • Courage, z. de moed,onbevressd- heido- G 8,5 Con 370 CU CO Courageous, bv. moedig, onbe- | Cross, z. het kruisė vreesd.. Course, z. de loop, 2) de weg • van een schip, de koers, 3) het gevolg, het vervolg; of Course, bij gevolg, 3) de le- venswijze; course of life. Ców, z. de koe. Còward, z. een lafaard, een durfniet. Cowardice, Cowardise, Cowardi- ze, z. lafhartigheid. Cowardly, bw. bang, zonder moed. Crack, z. de krak, een krakend geluid, 2) als tusfchenw. krak! 3) eene Scheur, barst of spleet. to Crà k, o. w. kraken. Cracking, z. het gekraak. to Cram, bw. Stappen; they cram med a handkerdiefinto his mouth zij Stopten eenen zakdoek in zijnen mond. Clay, by zianelios. Cream, z. de room van de melk. to Create, b. w. ſcheppen,voort. brengen.. Creation, z. dè fchepping. Creator, z. de fchepper. Créature, z. het fchepfel: Crèditor, z. een schuldeifcher. Creék, Z. eene kreek, zeeboezen, cene bogs • kleine to Creep, o. w. kruipen.. Crèpt, o. t. en dw. van to Creep. Crew, z. het Scheepsvolk. Cried, o. t. van to Cry. Crime, z. de misdaad. Criminal, bv. misdadigy z cen misdadiger. 2: Crooked, dwy van to Crook T Cross, bv. dwars; crossheams, dwarsbalken; crossthread, eon dwaarsdaad. to Cross, b. w. overgaan; to' cross a river, over eene rivier trekken. Cr wd, z. een gedrang van mi fihen. to Cr wd, o. w. zich dringen, zamendringen. eeno Crown, z. de kroon; a crown of large leaves, cena kroon van groote bladen, 2) een geldspar cie in Engeland van de waarde van Engelſche Schellingen (34 gulden Hollandsch). to Crown, b. w. f. bekroonen beloonen: Cruelty, z.-de wreedheid. tc Crash, b. w. kneuzen, kwets fen, verpletteren; to be crus hed to death, verpletterd worden to Cry, o, w. fchreeuwen, roe- pen; to cry for help, om hulp fchreeuwen. • Cry, z. het gefchreeuw. Crystal, z. het kristal. to Cultivate, b. w. b. w. opbouwen aanbouwen, aan- of opkwee- ken; f. to cultivate one's mind, zijnen geest befchaven. Cùnning, bv. behendig, a)listig, fim; the old parrots were too cunning, a Cunning- man, e01- waarzegger.. Cap, z. eene kop, een kopjeg a teacup, eene theekop. Curd, z. roomkaas. to Cúre, b. w. heelen, genezen. krom” gebogen; two croaked ¶ Curiosity, zi de nieuwsgierige branches, twee krom gobogene takken; crooked horns, krom me hoornen. Crop, ar de eogsto- heid, weetgierigheid. Curious, bv. weet of nieawsgierig: Curled, bv. kroes; curled hair, kross haar. Cura CU 371 1 CU Current, z. de stroom, de loop van eene rivier. Currier, z. een looijer, lecrton- wer, huidenvetter. to Carse, b. w. vervloeken, ver- wenfchen. Cursed, bw. van to Curse. wen, afhouwen; to ait down e mast, eenen mast afhouwen, kappen; 3) infwijden, inhou. aven, 4) f. doorfnijden; the ship cut the waves, het fchip kliefde de baren; 5) to cut one off, iemand wegnemen, an eminence to cut through, eene hoogte te doorgraven. Custom, z. de gewoonte, het ge- bruik. Customary, bv. gebruikelijk, ge- | Cut, z. de fnode. woon. to Cut, b. w. ſnijden, 2) hoa. Cutlass, z. een hartvanger, 280 ker foort van korten fabel. DA Dáily, bv. dagelijksch, bw. das gelijks. Dainty, z. lekkernij. Dainty, bv. letter, kiesch in het gebruik van spijs en drank; a dainty palate, een lekkere tong. Dairy, z. het melkhuis; a dairy- maid, eene melkmeid. Damage, z. de fchade, het verlies. to Damage, b. w. Schade veroor zaken, beſchadigen; the dà maged ship, het beschadigde Schip. Damp, z. de damp. Damp, bv. vochtig, benevold. to Damp, b. w. dempen; to damp his joy, zijne vreugde verbit- teren. Dampness, z. vochtigheid. to Dance', o. w. danfen. A Dance, z. de dans. Danger, z. het gevaar. Dangerous, bv. gevaarlijk. Dangerously, bw.gevaarlijk; dan- gerously wounded, doodelijk, gevaarlijk gewond. to Dáre, o. w. durven, wagen ; A dare say, ik geloof, ik zou DA durven zeggen, ja, dat geloof ik, mij dunkt. Dark, bv. donker, duister, 2) donker van kleur; dark-red, donkerrood. to Darken, b. w. verduisteren, verdonkeren, donker worden. Darling, bv. bemind, geliefd s the darling son het geliefde zoontje. > Darc, z. de wespſpies. to Dart, b. w. worpen, eigenlijk en f. the moon darted her beams, de maan schoot hare ftralen; fchieten van werpfchichten; s) o. w. when the lightung darts 7 from the clouds, wanneer de blikſem ait de wolken ſchiet. to Dash, b. w. flaan, ſloten, 2) verbrijzelen; to dass to pieces 3) werpen. Dash, z. een flag, foot. Daughter, z. de dochter. to Dawn, o. w. kiemen, daubre. ken (van den dag). Dawn, z. de dageraad; the dawn of the day, de morgen- of och- sendfchemering. DAY, 872 DE DE Dây, z. de dag; to day, heden; one day or a another, vroeg of - laat, eens, eenmaal. Daybreak, z. het aanbreken van den dog. Daylight, z. het daglicht. Daytime, z. de tijd van den dag ; by daytime, bij dag. to Decay, b. w. lokken; they de- coyed the sailors in the words, zij lokten de matrozen in de bosfchen. to Decrée, bw. en o. w. beflui- ten, vast fellen. to Dedicate, b. w. wijden, 106. wijden, opdragen. · Dead, bv. dood; dead silence, Deéd, z. de daad, de handeling. tò Deém, b. w. achten, denken, doodfche filte.s Deadly, bw. doodelijk; the deadly sweat, her doodzweet. Déal, z. een deel; with a good déal of trouble, met veel moei- te; what a deal of trouble? wat cene moeite. ** to Déal, b. w. deelon, verdes „len; a) 0. x. handelen; God, thou dealst justly with me, God, gij handelt regsvaardig met mij Déaling, z. de handelwijze, de behandeling. Déar, bv. geliefd, waard; 0 dear! o hemel! 2) duur, hoog in prijs. Déarly, bw. my dearly beloved father, mijn dierbaar beminde vader. Death, z. de dood. so Debar, b. w. uitsluiten; to be debarred from the communica- tion with mankind, van allen menfchelijken omgang uitge foten zijn. Debt, z. de fchuld, de fchulden. Deceased, bv. gestorven. meeren. Deep, bv. diep. Deer, z. de reebok. to Defeat, b. w. verwinnen, ver- nielen, verflaan; to defeat the enemy. Defect, z. het gebrek, de gebrek- kige zamenftelling. Defence, z. de verdediging, de zekerheid, veiligheid. to Defend, b. w. yerdigen, bs- Schermen. to Defèr, b. w. eno. w. verſchui- : ven, uitfellen. Deficient, bv. gebrekkelijk, ge® brek hebbende. to Defidy, b. w. de kosten dra. gen, vrijhouden, voor (ie. mand) betalen, (iets) bekos. tigen. Degrée, z. een trap; by degrees, trapsgewijze, langzamerhand, 2) graad; to such a degree, tot zulk een hoogen graad. to Dejèct, b. w. moedeloos ma- ken, neerslagtig maken. Dceéit, z. het bedrog, de be Dejèction, z. de moedeloosheid. driegerij. to Deceive, b. v. bedriegen, mis- leiden. Deceiver, Z. een bedrieger. to Decide, b. w. beflisfen. De ision, z. beflisfing. Dèck, z. het verdek van een ſchip to Declare, b. w. verklarens to Dèign, o. w. zich verwaardi. gen, voor waardig houden; deign thou, o lord! my life to regard, neem, o heer! gena dig mijn leven in awe be Scherming. to Deláy, b. w vertragen fchuiven, uitstellen. " De. DE 373 DE Deldy, z. de vertraging, ver- fchuiving, het uitstel; without delay, onverwijld. Delicacy, z de lekkerheid, lek- kernij; the sweet poison of de. licacies, het zoet vergif der lekkernijen. Delicious, bv. kostelijk, heer- lijk; a delicious meal, een heer- lijke maaltijd. Delight, z. het vermaak, vreugde, de last. do to Delight, b. w. verblijden, vera keugen, verrukken; he delight ed his eyes, hij verlustigde ziine oogen, 2) o. w. vermaak vinden; he delighted in doing good, hij vindt zijn vermaak in weldoen; to be delighted with a thing, met iets ingeno- men zijn, zich daarmede ver maken. Delightful, bv. aangenaam, ge neegelijk, verblijdend. Delirious, bv. krankzinnig. to Deliver, b. w. bevrijden, red- den, 2) overleveren, overgo- ven, overhandigen ; as soon as they were delivered into good hands afgeleverd. Deliverance, z. de bevrijding, redding. Deliverer, z. de rødder, bevrijder. to Delúde, b. w w. w. misleiden ; our poor delded brother, Z8 011 arme verblinde, misleide broeder. Demand, z. de eisch, de vordering. to Demand, b. w. vorderen, ei fchen, verlangen. to Demolish, b. w. vernielen, afbreken. Démon, z. een (boozi) geest. | to Demonstrate, b. w. bewijzen, betuigen. Demonstrátion, z. het bewijs; de- monstrations of joy, vreugde- bewijzen, vreugdebetuigingen. Denial, z. self-denial, zelfver- loochening. Dèptist, z. de tandmeester. to Deny, b. w. loochenen, tegen- Spreken, 2) weigeren. to Depart, o. w. afreizen, ver- trekken, 2) verfcheiden; his departed soul, zijne afgefchei- dene ziel. Departure, z. het vertrek. to Depend, b. w. afhangen, 2) (met upon, on) zich op iets verlaten; depend on it, ga daar vast op, maak daarop ftaat. ኑ Dependant, bv. afhankelijk. Deplorable, bv. betreurenswaar- dig. to Deplore, b w. betreuren, be- weenen, beklagen. Department, z. hot gedrag. to Deposite, b. w. nederzetten, nederleggen. to Depreciate, b. w. minachten, verachten ; one's merit, ien mands verdienſte gering foliat ten. Depredation, z. vernieling, ver- woesting. to Deprive, b. w. (met of) be- rooven. Dèpth, z. de diepte. to Depice, b. w. afvaardigen. Deputy, z. een afgevaardigde, gezant. to Derive, b. w. afleiden, af ſtammen, afkomen. to Descend, b. w. en o. w. af- gaan, dalen, nederkomen. to Describe, b. w. beſchrijven. Hh D... 3747% DI DE Description, z. beſchrijving. Désert, z. de wildernis, woes. tijn; a dreary dèsert, eene treurige woestijn. Desert, z. het verdiende loon; now he gets his deserts, krijgt hij loon nair werken. to Desert, o. w. ontloopen, weg- *loopen, verlaten. nu to Deserve, b. w. verdienen ; he deserves no compassion, hij { verdient geen medelijden. to Design, b w.voornemens zijn, willen, 2) (met for) tot i.ts bestemmen. Design, z. het voorneman. Desirable. bv. wenfchelijk, ge- wenscht. to Desire, b. w. verlangen, wen- fchen, verzoeken; I desired you to stay, ik wenschte dar gij bleef, ik verzocht u te blijven. Deare, z. het verlangen near iets; the desire of travelling, het verlangen om te reizen. Desirous, bv begeerig desirous of learning, leergierig. to Desist, o. w. van iets afzien, aflaten. Desolate, b woest, onbewoond. Despair, 2. wanhoop. to Despair, o, W. (met of) wan- hopen. to Despise, b. w. verachten, verſmaden. to Despond, o. w. wanhopen, den moed laten zinken. Desponderey, z. kleinmoedig- heid, hopeloosheid. to Destinate, b. w. beftemmen. Des ination, z. de beftemming. to Destine, b. w. ſchikken fremmen, wijden. Destiny, z. het noodlot. be. Destitute, bv. met of, beroofd zijn, verftoken. to Destroy, b. w. vernielen, 2) dooden, ombrengen. Destriction, 2. verwoesting, ver■ nietiging, ondergang..` Destructive, bv. verwoestend vernielend. to Detáin, b. w. terughouden, ophouden; let not me detain you from, laat mij u niet verhin deren enz. to Diver, b. w. affchrikken. \ to Dtèrmiae, bw. befluiten, be palen. to Detest, b. w. verfoeijen. Detèstable, bv. verfoeijelijk, af- fchuwelijk. to Deviate, o. w. van den regten weg afwijken. Deviation, z. afwijking, verwij- dering. to Devoce, b. w. wijden, toe- wijden. Devotion, z. aandacht, eerbied, vroombeid. to Devour, b. w. verfinden. Devoutly, bw. aandachtig, vroom. Dew, z. de daauw. Dexterity, z. de belendigheid, bekwaamheid. Dexterous, bv. behendig bekwaam. Dialogue, z, het gefprek, de za- men praak, tweefpraak. Diamond, z. de diamant. Dick, verkorting van den naam Richard. Did, o. t. van to Do. to Die, c. w. ferven; to die of age, vis orderdom fterven. Dier, z. sen verwer. o Differ, o. w. verſchillen, ver- fcheiden zijn, 2) van cene an• dere meaning zijn. Dif. DI 375 DI Difference, z. het onderfcheid, verschil. Different, bv. verf.hillend, on- derfcheiden, (met from). Dificult, bv. moeijelijk, bezwaar. lijk. Difficulty, z. moeijelijkheid, 2) verlegenheid. Diffidence, Zo wantrouwen. to Diffuse, b. w. verspreiden, verbreiden. to Dig, b. w. es o. w. graven; to dig up, opgraven; to dig out, uitgraven; to dig the ground, den grond graven. Digging, z. het graven. Dignity, z. waardigheid; he be haved with the greatest dignity, hij gedroeg zich met de grOOS- fte waardigheid, 2) mv. eer ambten, waardigheden. • to Diláte, o. w. zich uitzetten; f. how his heart dilated! hoe verblijd was zijn hart! Diligence, z. ijver, naarftig- heid, vlijt. Dim, bv. duister; by the dim light, bij het zwakke licht. to Diminish, b. w. verminderen, minder maken; 2) o. w. yer- minderen, minder worden. Diminution, z. de vermindering. Dimly, bw. duister. one's course, Auren, 2) lei- den, fchikken; the all directing father of mankind, de albeheer- fchende vader der menfchen, 3)' brieven adresferen; letters di- rected for Barbados, naar Bar- bados beftemde brieven. Direction, z. de rigting, 2) in• rigting, beſtuur, voorſchrift; according to his direction, vol- gens zijn voorſchrift. Directly, bw. regiftreeks, 2) ter- fond, onmiddellijk, i wijld; you may directly begin, gij kunt terftond beginnen. Director, z. de leider, beßuur. der, regeerder. to Disable, b. w. verzwakken krachteloos, onbekwaam maken. Disagreable, bv. onaangensam. to Disappear, o. w. verdwijnen, onzichtbaar worden. to Disappoint, b. w. iemands hoop verijdelen, te leur ftellen; to be disappointed in one's explc- tation, te leur gefteld worden. Disappointment, z. releurstelling, de verijdelde hoop. to Disapprove, b. w. laken, af. keuren. to Discèrn, b. w. onderfcheiden, 2) inzien; to discern the rea. son, de reden inzien. to Dine, o. w. te middag fpij-to zen, eten; if he would dine with him, of hij bij hem wil- de ctes. Dinner, z. het middagmaal; to eat one's dinner, zijn middag- maal houden. Dint, z. kracht, vermogen; by dinc of patience, door geduld. to Dip, b. w. doopen, foppen. Dipt, dw. en o. t. van to Dip. to Direct, b. w. rigten ; to direct Discharge, b. w. losfen, ont- laden, 2) affchieten; to dis- charge a pistol, een pistool af- Schieten. Discontent, z. de ontevredenheid, onvergenoegdheid. Discovery, z. de ontdekking. to Discover, b. w. ontdekken. to Disc urage, b. w. ſpreken, com mondgesprek houden. Discourse, a. het gesprek. Hh 2 to E 376 DI DI to Discourse, b. w. Spreken, eom | Disposal, z. de fchikking, orde. mondgesprek houden. Discreet, bv. voorzigtig, beſchei- den. Disease, z. ziekte, kwaal, onge▪ mak.. to Disencumber, b. w. van iets bevrijden, ontlasten, uit den weg raimen. to Disengage, b. w. bevrijden, losmaken, ontbinden. Dish, z. eene fchotel, eene kop; a dish of tea, een kopje thee, 2) een geregt (bij den maal- tijd). Disharmony, Z. een wangeluid, wanklank; a dismal disharmony, een jammerlijk geluid, een jammerlijk misbaar. Dismal, by. fchrikkelijk,. treu- rig, droevig. Dismay, z. moedeloosheid. Dismayed, dw, moedeloos, klein- mecdig. Disorder, z. wanorde, verwar- ring. Dis air, zie Despair. Dispatch, z. Spoed, Snelheid, ook Despatch. to Dispàrch, b. w. verzenden, af- zenden, 2) naar de andere we- reld zenden, afmaken; to dis- patch the savage, den wilde van kant maken, hem de rest geven to Dispèl, b. w. verdrijven, ver- Strooijen; to dispel a doubt, eene twijfeling wegruimen. to Dispèrse, b. w. verftrooijen, 2) o. w. zich verliezen; they dispersed in the woods, zij ver› Spreidden zich in het bosch ; the heat disperses, de hitte neemt af. to Display, b. w. uit een zetten, verspreiden, ten toon spreiden to Dispose, b. w. beſchikken ; dispose of me, when you think fit, befchik over mij zoo als het u belieft; to dispose of one's property, over zijn sim gendom befchikken. Disposed, bv. en dw. geſchikt ; well disposed, in eenen ge- fchikten luim. Disposition, z. inrigting, fchik- king; the dispositions of divine providence, de fchikkingen der goddelijke voorzienigheid. Dispute, z. de ftrijd, twist, re- detwist, oneenigheid. to Dispute, b. w. betwisten; no- body will dispute me the right, niemand zal mij het regt be. twisten. Dissatisfaction, z. onvergenoegd. heid, ontevredenheid. Dissolution, z. onsbinding, op- los fing. Distance, z. afstand; at a distan ce, van verre. Distant, bv. verwijderd. Distèmper, z. ligchaamskwaal, ziekte. Distinct, bv. verfcheiden, on- derfcheiden. Distinction, z, onderſcheidenheid, verſchil. Distinctly, bw. onderfcheidenlijk, klaar, duidelijk. to Distinguish, b. w. onderfchei- den. Distinguished, bv. onderfcheiden, dw. Distracted, bv. onzinnig, dol. Distrèss, z. ongeluk, ellende, nood; a ship is in distress, con Schip is in nood; the signal of distress, hot teeken van nood. Dis- DO 377 DO Distressed, dw. a distressed ship, een fchip in nood, een veron- gelukt schip. Distressful, bv. ongelukkig, el- lendig. to Disturb, b. w. verontrusten, ftoren, 2) bedroeren, droef- heid, verdriet aandoen. Ditch, z. cane gracht, foot. to Dive, o. w. duiken, onder- duiken. Divers, bv. eenige, verfcheidene (verouderd woord). Diverse, bv. onderfcheiden, ver fcheiden. ik weet niet; ook in plaats van vorige werkwoorden te her- halen, als: did not you say so? yes I did, 5) to do without a thing, iets misfon, ontberen; he did not know what to do with himself, hij wist niet wat hij zou beginnen. to Dóat, Dóte, b. w. (met upon of on), op iets verlekkerd zijn, met iets ingenomen zijn, iets buitensporiglijk bemin- new; they doated on him to ex- cess, zij hadden hem alte lief. Dog, z. de hond. Diversion, z. verftrooijing, uite | Dóing, dw. van to Do, s) als Spanning, vervrolijking. to Divèrt, b. w. verfrooijen ; to divert one's grief, zijn leed verftrooijen, verbannen, zich den tijd korten; to divert one's self with a thing, zich met iets vermaken. to Divide, b. w. deolen. Divine, bv. goddelijk, Divine י z. mv. doden; all their doings al wat zij verrigten, was zij daen. Doll, z. eene pop. Dollar, z. een daalder. Domèstick, Domèstical, bv. huis. felijk, 2) tam; domestick ani. mals, tamme dieren. Pro-Dominion, z. het gebied, de heer- Ichappij. vidence, de Goddelijke Voorzie. nigheid. Division, z. de deeling, vordec. ling. Dizzy, bv. duizelig. to Dó, b. w. doen, maken; he did not know what to do with it, hij wist niet wat hij daar- mede zou doen, 2) o. wọ và- ren, zich bevinden; how du you do? hoe vaart gij, hoe is het met uwe gezondheid? 3) deugen, die■ftig zijn; it would have done, het had kunnen die- nen, gefchieden, 4) men zal overigens nog onderfcheidene Spreckwijzen met het werkw. Do vinden; do not let it be too mournful, laat het niet al so akelig worden; I don't know, Done, dw. van to do, to have done with a thing, met iets ge. reed zijn; done again? reeds weder voorbij? Done! als tas- fchenw. Fiat! Don't, zamenirekking van Do not. Doór, z. de deur; to run out of doors, de deur uitloopen, uis her huis loopen; without doors, buitens huis. Dormant, bv. fluimerend, rustend, fil. Double, bv. en bw. dubbel, twee- voudig; double teeth, kinne bakstanden, kiezen. to Double, b. w. verdubbelen. to Doubt, o. w. twijfelen (aan iets). I Doubt, z. de twijfel, de twijfe Hh3 ling i $78 DR DR ling; I make no doubt of it, I Dréam, z. een droom. ik twijfel er niet aan; no to Dream, o. w. droomen. doubt, zonder twijfel, 2) be- Dréamer, z. de droomer. fuiteloosheid, bedenkelijkheid, Dreáry, bv. fchrikkelijk, akelig, 3) vrees, bezorgdheid, zorg. a dreary desert, eene akelige Doubtful, bv. twijfelachtig, on- wildernis. zeker; in doubtful cases in twijfelachtige gevallen; a doubtful voice, cane onzekere, wankelende ftem. • Dough, z. (uitgespr. als doo), het deeg. Dówn', vz. en bw. neder, af; to fall down, nedervallen, vallen; to go down the hill, den berg afgaan; he wrote it down, hij fchreef het op. Downwards, bw. nederwaarts. Dozen, z. cen dozijn. 4 to Drag, b. w. trekken, flepen. Drank, o. t van to Drink. Draught, (uitgeſpr. als Draaft), 2. een flok, teug, dronk; he drank a cold draught, hij dronk Benes kouden teug, 2) can drank. to Draw, b. w. trekken; to draw breath, adem halen, 2) wit- trekken; to draw a tooth, 86- pen tand uittrekken, 3) ſchrif- telijke opstellen; the condition he drew up, de voorwaarden welke hij opschreef, 3) o. w. maderen; night drew on, het werd nacht; it draws near its end, het loopt ten einde. Drawbridge, z een ophaalbrug. Drawing, z. cene teckening. to Dead, b. w. en o. w. jets vriezen duchten, van iets fchrikken. Dreadful, bv. fchrikkelijk, ijs- felijk. Dreadfully bw. Johrikkelijk. wressfelijk. to Dress, b. w. kleeden, tooijen, fieren, 2) toobereiden; well dressed meat wel toebereid vleesch; to dress skins, huider toebereiden. Drew, o. t., van to Draw. to Drink, bw. en o.w.drinken. Drink, z. de drank, 2) het drix- ken. | Drinkable, bv. drinkbaar. Drinking, z. het drinken. to Drive, b. w.drijven, voort- drijven, jogen. | Driven, dw. yan to Drive, 2) as a driven snow, als versch ge- vallen Sneeuw. Drop, z. de droppel; a drop of blood, een droppel bloeds. to Drop, o. w. droppelen, 2) val- len, nedervallen; the knife dropt from his hand, het mes viel mit zijne hand; 3) b. w. to drop a project, een voorns- men laten varen. Dropping sweat, z. een droppe- lend zweeten. Drove, o. t. van to Drive. to Drown, o. w. ex b. W. ver- drinken, áronken. Druin, z. de trom, de tremmel; the druin was beaten, de trom werd geflagen. Drunk, dw. van to Drink. Dry, bv. droog, dry land, hes drooge, het drooge land, 2) dorftig, 3) dor, zonder fap; the cow became dry, de koe verloor hare melk. co Dry, o, w. droog worden, uit. DU 379 DY [uitdroogen, droogen, 2) b. w. | Dùnghill, z. een misthoop. droogen, droog maken; to dry up, uitdroogen, opdroogen. Due, bv. behoorlijk, billijk; in due time, ter goeder uur; in de form, in behoorlijken Dúring, vz. (dw. van to Dare), gedurende, terwijl. vorm. Dug, dw. en o. t. van to Dig. Dúly, bw. behoorlijk, billijk. Dimb, bv. ftom. Dùn, bv. van den kastanjeboom. Dunce, z. een domoor. to Dùng, b, w, miston, het land MESICH. | Darst, o. t. van to Dare. Dùsk, z. de avondſchemering. Dust, z. het stof;- gold dust;» goudstof: Dútiful, bv. gehoorzaam, 2)sere biedig. Dúty, z. de pligt.. to Dwell, o. w. women. Dwelling, z. de woning. to Dye, zie to Dié. Dyer, zie Diér. E A E A Each, (voornaamw.), elk, ieder; | Earthly, bv. aardsch. each other, elkander. Earthquake, z. eene aardbevinge Eager, bv. begeerig,verlangend, Ease, z. de rust, 2) welstand, ijverig ; eager of learning, leer- graag, 2) hevig, driftig, vu- rig; an eager desire, een vu- rig verlangen. | 3) gemakkelijkheid; at his ease, op zijn gemak, 4) ongedwon3 = heid; they suckled at their ease, zij zogen zoo veel hun, lusite. Eagerly, bw.begeerig,vuriglijk. | to Ease, to Ease, b w. verligten, 2) be- Ear, z. het oor, 2) cen aar, koornaar. Early, bv. en bw. vroeg, vroeg- sijdig; vergel. trap, earlier, overtroff. trap, earliest. Earnest, bv. ernfig; the earnest resolution, het vaste, ernftige, besluit. Earnest, z. de ernst. Earnestly, bw. met ernst, in ernst. vredigen, gerust fellen; to ease one's self, zich geruss ftal- len, 3) uitrusten, laten uit- rusten; to ease one's limbs zijn ligchaam laten ruston. Easily, bw. ligt, gemakkelijk, zonder moeite. East, z. het oosten; east indies, Oostindien. Easterly, bv. oostelijk; easterly winds, oostelijke windon, Earnestness, z.ernftigheid, ijver, Eastern, bv. oostelijk; the eas drift. Earth, z. de aarde; potters eartli, pottebakkers aarde, 2) de cardbol. Ea then, bv. van aarde; eartheu ware, pots, aardewerk. tern horizon, de oostelijke gen zigteinder. Easy, bv. gemakkelijk, 2) ge- rust, veilig; to make one's mind easy, zich gerast ftellen, 3) gemakkelijk ingerigt. Hh 4 to 380 E M EL to Eat, 0. w. en b. w. eten. Eatable, bv. eetbaar. Eatable, z. eatables mv. eetwa ren, levensmiddelen. Eater, z. eter; a man éater, een menfchencter. Eating, z. het eten. Ebb, z. de ebbc. - to Ebb, o. w. obben; when it ebbs, wanneer de ebbe begint. Echo, z. de echo, weerklank. to Echo, .o. w. terugkaaszen. to Educate, b. w. opvoeden. Education, z opvoeding. E'en in plaats van Even, zelfs, liever; so 1'11 e'en pass over this passage, dan wil ik dit liever overſlaan. Effèct, z. het uitwerkfel, het gevolg, de werking- to Effect, b. w. ten uitvoer bran. gon, in working brengen. Effèmiuate, bv. verwijfd, wecke- lijk, laf. . to Effèminate, b. w. weekelijk maken, vertroetelen. Efficacious, bv. werkdadig,krachi- dadig. Effort, z. poging; to use all ef forts, alle pogingen aanwen- den, alles in het werk ftellen. Egg, z. een ei. Eight, bv. acht (in getal); at eight o'clock, ten acht uren. Eighteen, bv. achttien. Eighteenth, bv. de achttiende. Eighth, bv. de achtfie. Eighty, bv. sachtig. Elbow, z. de elleboog. Eldest, overtreff. trap van Old, de oudste. Elemèntal, bv. uit de eerfte grondbeginsels beftaande ; ele- 3 mental knowledge, eerfte bs- ginfels, eerfte kundigheden. Elevated, bv. en dw. an elevated ground, een verheyen grond, eene hoogte, een heuvel. Elèven, bvolf. Elèventh, bv. de elfde. Eligible, bv. verkieslijk, yor kiesbaar. Ell, z. de el. Else, (voornaamw.), anders; noë body else, niemand anders. Else, bw. anders. Elsewhere, bw. ergens anders. Em, zimentrekking van Them. to Embark, b. w. infchepen, aañ boord brengen; ) c. w. zich infchepen, aan boord gaan. Embassador, z. de gezant, afge, zant. to Embellish, o. w. en b. w fraaijer worden, 2) fraai jer maken, verfraaijen. Embellishment, z. verfraaijing. Embers, z. v. gloeijende asch. to Embitter, b. w. verbitteren.} to Embrace, b. w. o.marmen2, omvatten, omhelzen, 2) aan=. петем; to embrace a belief, een geloof aannemen. Embrace, z. de omhelzing. Embrásure, z. hos fchiergat in eene mu8 18. Eilet hole, oilet hole, Z Aet Eminence, z. een heuvel, eene rijggat. Eicher, (voornaamw.), een van beide, ieder, elk. Eicher, (voegw.) of, het zij. to Elapse, o. w. verloopen. Elastick, bv. veerkrachtig. boogie. Emotion, z. hevige aandoening, gemoedsbeweging. Empire, z. het rijk, de ſtaat. to Employ, b. w.gebruiken, aan. wonden; 2) to be employed ba EN 38F EN bezig zijn; the ships employed in the codfishery, de fchepen die tot de kabeljaauwvangst | gebruikt worden. Employment, z. de bezigheid, de tijdkorting, 2) het ambt. Empty, bv. ledig. Emulation, z. naijver, serzucht. to Enáble, b. w. in ftaat fellers bekwaam maken. to Enchant, b. w. betooveren; the enchanted potion, de 100- verdrank. to Enclose, b. w. influiten, in- perken. Enclosure, z. do omheining. to Encompass, b. w. influiten, beperken, bepalen. to Encounter, b. w. te gemoet gaan, ontmoeten, 2) canyallen to Encourage, bi w aanmoedi- gen. Encouragement, z. de aanmoedi- ging. to Encréase, B. w. en o. W. ver- meerderen, aanwassen; n; the water encreased, het water waste. Encréase, z. de vermeerdering, wasdom. End, z. het einde; to put an end to a thing, een einde aan iess maken, 2) het doel, oogmerk, voornemen, 3) beftemming; to answer this end, om aan dit #inds te beantwoorden; 4) on end, overeind, your hair will stand on end, we haren zul- len te berge rijzen. to End, b. w. eindigen, ten ein- de brengen, 2) o. w. ten ein- de loopen 3) ophouden met Spreken; here the father ended, hier zwoeg de vader. > to Endéar, b. w. bemind maken. Endearing, dw. endearing carès- ses, teedere liefkozingen. Endeavour, z. de poging, het freven; to do one's endeavour, pogen. to Endeavour, b. w. pogen, trach• ten, 2) beproeven. Endless, bv. eindeloos, oneindig to Endów, b. w. begiftigen, be- gaven, beſchenken; endowed with reason, met reden be- gaafd. to Endure, b. w. verduren, dal- den. Enervated, dw. ontzenuwd, ver- zwakt. Enemy, z. een vijand. to Enféeble, b. w. verzwakken j krachteloos maken. to Engage, b. w. verbinden, ver☛ pligten, 2) aanſporen. Engagement, a: gevecht. English, bv. cngelsch; mv. the english, de engelſchen. ► to Engrave, b. w. graveren. to Enhance, b. w. verhoogen, den: prijs, de waarde verhoogen. to Enjoy, b. w. genieten. Enjoyment, z genot, vermaak. to Enlarge, b. w. vergrootený. uitbreiden. to Enlist, b. w. werven; he got himself enlisted, hij nam dienst to Enlighten, b. w. verlichten. Enough, bw. genoeg; there is room enough, dear is plaats genoeg.. to Enquire, b. w. naar vṛagen vernemen; to enquire after one, naar iemand vernemen. to Enrage, b. w. toornig maken, vertoornen, vergrammen, boos maken. to Ensúe, o. w. volgen; a silent- Hb5 со 382 E V E Q ce ensued, hier volgde een ftil- | Equitable, bv. billijk; equitable zwijgen. to Entàugle, b. w. verwarren ; the hairs were entangled, de ha- ren waren verward. to Enter, b. w. binnen komen, intreden; to enter the atlantick in de atlanti che zee varen; 2) o. w. (mes into), ocean, they entered into open sea, zij kwamen in volle zee. Entèrred, intèrred en imèred, dw. begraven. to Entertain, b. w. onderhouden, mes ſpreken bezig houden, met Spijzen onthalen. Entertainment, z. onderhouding, zie to Entertain. Entire, bv. geheel, gansch. Ettirely, bw. geheellijk. to Entitle, bv, geregtigen. Eutrails, z. mv. hee ingewand. Entrance, z. de intrede, 2) de ingang. to Entréat, b. w.verzoeken,fme- ken. Emtréaty, z. ſmeeking. laws, regtyaardige wetten. to Erèce, b. w. oprigten. Erèct, bw regt op; to stand erect, overeind flaan. Error, z. de dwaling; to be in an error, dwalen. Eruption, z. de uitbarfling. to Escape, b. w. ontgaan, ont- duiken; a danger, een ga- vaar ontkomen; to escape death, den dood ontgaan; o. w. ont- Snappen, vlagsen, de vlugt nemen. Escape, z. de vlugt; to make one's escape, het hazenpad-kie- zen, do vlagt nemen. Espécially, bw. voornamelijk, in◄ zonderheid. to Espy, b. w. ontdekken, waar worden, 2) beſpieden. Essay, z. de proeve. Essential, bv. wezenlijk. gem to Establish, b. w. vestigen, iw, ftellen, bepalen. Establishment, z. de inrigting, ſchikking. to Eatrust, b. w. toevertrouwen,Esteém, z. de achting. (ook intrust). to Esteem, b. w. hoogachten. Epidèmic, bv. heerfchend, (hoor Estimable, bv. achtenswaardigs fchende ziekte); Equal, bv. gelijk, gelijkvormig; of equal length, van gelijke lengte, 2) billijk. to Estimate, b. w. Schatten, waarderen. Estimate, z. fchatting, waarde- ring, takfering. Equally, bw. even zoo, gelijke Eternal, bv. seuwig. lijk, insgelijks. Equanimity, z. gelijkheid van gemoedsgefteldheid. Equinox, z. de nachtevening. to Equip, b. w. uitrusten, met het noodige voorzien. Equipage, z. de uitrusting, klee- ding; the odd equipage, de won- derlijke opfchik. Eternally, bw. eenwig, in cou“ wigheid. Even, bv. effen, glad, gelijk ş on even ground, op effen grond. to Even, b. w. effen maken, ge• lijk maken. Even, é'en, bw. zelfs ; even then, even at that time, juist in dien tijd. Evening, z. de avond. E- EX 383 EX Event, z. de uitkomst, de uitſlag. | Exclusive, bv. uitgenomen, bui- Ever, bw. ooit, 2) altijd; for 矍 ​ever, ooor ecuwig; 3) ever so short, hoë kort ook; ever so little, hoe weinig ook. Everlasting, bv. eeuwigdurend. Every, (voornaamw.) elk, ieder; every one, ieder een; 2) every where, overal. Evil, ill, br. en bw. flecht; it must be done by evi! means, het moet door booze middelen ge- ſchiedeni dat is meer dan regt uit. Evil, z. het kwaad. rea; exclusive of -, zondering van -. met uit. Excursion, z. ftrooping, wande- ling. to Excuse, b. w. verontschuldigens Excase, z. eene verontschuldi ging. to Execute, b. w. aitosfenen. uitvoeren. Execution, z. de uitvoering; to put in execution, in werking brengen, ten uitvoer brengen. to Exèmpt, b w bevrijden, vrij- Spreken, uitzonderen. European, hv. europeaansch, 2) Exercise, z. oefening; bodily z. een europeaan. Exact, bv. naauwkeurig. Exactly, bw. naauwkeuriglijk. Exactness, Z. nauwkeurigheid. Examination, z. het onderzoek. to Examine, b. w. onderzoeken. Example, z. een voorbeeld. to Excéed, b. w. overfchreden. Excéeding, dw, uitnemend ; cx- ceeding high, zeer hoog. Exceedingly, bw. engemeen. Excellence, z. voortreffelijkheid, Excellent, bv. voortreffelijk. Excellently, bw. voortreffelijk. to Excèpt, b w. uitzonderen. Except, excepted, dw. uitgeno- inen. Exception, z. de uitzondering. Excèss, z. de buitensporigheid; to love one to such an excess, iemand zoo onmatig beminnen, 2) onmatigheid. exercises, ligchaamsoefeningen to Exercise, b. w. oefenen. to Exèrt, b. w. volbrengen, 2) inspannen. TH= Exertion, z. uitoefening, Spanning (van krachten). Exhalation, z. de uitwafeming, mv. de dampen, uitwafemingen. to Exhale, o. w. uitwafemen zirdampen. to Exhaust, b. w. uitputten. to Exhiòrt, b. w. aanmanen, pers manen. Exhortation, z. de vermaning. to Exist, b. w. b. w. beftaan, voor. handen zijn. Existence, z. het beftaan, hot daar zijn. to Expèct, b. w. verwachten. Expectation, z. de verwachting, 2) het uitzigt, de hoop. Expédient, bv. nuttig, heilzaım. Excessive, bv. onmatig, buiten Expédient, z. een geſchik: middel. Sporig, overdreven. Expedition, z. de spoed, haast. Excessively, bw.buitenſporiglijk | Expeditious, bv. Spoedig, fuel, to Excite, b. w. verwekken, op- wekken. Exclamation, z. uitroeping. to Exclúde, b. w. uitſluiten. vlug. Expeditiously, bw. fnel, wes Snelheid. Expence, expense, z. uitgave kosa 384 EX EX kosten; I will pay your expen- ces, ik zal u vrij houden; at the expence of others, op an- ders kosten; do not put your self to any expence, maak gee- ne onkosten, wees onbezorgd, fpaar u de moeite. Expérience, z. ondervinding; by his own experience, door zijne eigene ondervinding. to Expérience, b. w. ondervin- den, door ondervinding weten. Experiment, z. de proef, de on- dervinding. Expiration, 2. het verloop, hes einde van eenigen tijd. to Expire, o. w. den geest ge- ven, overlijden, sterven, 2) sen einde loopen, verloopen (van tijd), verftrijken. to Express, b. w. uitdrukken aan den dag leggen. Exprèssion, z. de uitdrukking. Expressive, bv. uitdrukkelijk, beteekeningsvol. Exquisite, bv. voortreffelijk, uit- gelozen, heerlijk. Extasy, z. verrukking. to Extend, o. w. zich uittrek ken, 2) b. w. verbreiden, uis- breiden; a spider had extended her web, eene fpin had haar web uitgespand. Extensive, by. uitgeftrekt; an extensive circle, een wijde firkel. to Extingnish, b. w. dempen, blusfchen, stelpen. Extraordinary, bv. buitengewoon, ongemeen. Extravagantly, bv. buitensporig. To Explain, b. w. verklaren, op Extravagant, bv. overdreven. helderen. Explanation, 2. verklaring, op- heldering. 10 Explore, b. w. uitvorſchen, onderzoeken. Explosion, z. uitbarsting. zo Expose, b. w. bloot fellen; to be exposed on an island, op een eiland bloot gefteld, 2) aan gevaar bloet fellen; to expose to danger, to expose one's life, zijn leven in de waagschaal fiellen. Extréme, bv. het laatfte, het ui- terfte. Extremity, z. het uiterfte, het uiterfte einde. to Extricate, b. w. to extricate one's self, zich er uit draai. jen, er uit redden. to Exùlt, o. w. zich verblijden, yrolijk zijn. Eye, z. het oog; to cast one's eyes down, de oogen nederſlaan. · FA Fable, z. eene fabel, een vers dichtfel. Fice, z. het gezigt, het aange zigt. to Face, b. w. tagen overſtaan; to face a danger, een gevaar FA trotferen; to face the enemy, den vijand het hoofd bieden. to Facilitate, b. w. verligten. Facility, z. de gemakkelijkheid. Fact, z. de daad; in fact, war- kelijk Fi FA 385 FA Faculty, z. het vermogen van iets te doen, de bekwaamheid, ziels- kracht, voornamelijk in het mv. faculties, zielsvermogens. to Fáde, o. w. verwelken, ver- gaan. to Fil, o. w. misſlaan, feil gaan; 2) b. w. in gebreke blij- ven; I will not fáil, ik zal niet in gebreke blijven. Fáin, bv. gaarn. to Faint, 0. w. onmagtig wor· den, in onmagt vallen; he fainted away, hij viel in on- magt. Flint, bv. krachteloos, zwak, fiaauw. Fáintness, z. onmagt, flaauwie. Fáir, bv. fchoon, a) gunftig; the wind is fair, de wind is ganftig, 3) zacht, zachtmoc- dig; by fair means, goedfchiks, in der minne. Faith, z. het godsdienftig geloof, geloofsbelijdenis, 2) de trouw, getrouwheid. > Faithful, bv. trouw, getrouw ; faithful to his resolution, over- eenkomstig mes zijn besluis; a faithfol maid-servant eene trouwe dienssmoid; the faith- ful dog, de trouwe hond, Faithfully, bw. getrouwelijk, naauwkeurig, naauwgezet. to Fall, o. w. vallon, nederval- Jon; he fell from the tree, hij viel van den boom, 2)invloci- jen, invallen (van rivieren); where the Elb falls into the sea, waar zich de Elbe in de zee aitffort, 3) in eenigen soeftand geraken; beware of falling sick, draag zorg niet ziek te worden; to fall into grom misery, tot grosse allen- | de vervallen; to fall into a passion, in drift geraken; to fall into a swooɑ, in onmagt vallen; to fall asleep, in flasp valles; to fall in with one, is- mand ontmoeten, aantreffen, 4) op iets aanvallen, het mee ijver aanvangen; he fell a work- ing, hij zette zich aan bet werk; the dog fell a barking de hond bogow hevig te blaf- fen, 5) vervallen aan iemand, zijn deel wordex; it falls oo the share of the lord of the country, het kemt den lands- haer toe. Fall, z. de val; x) at nightfall, tegen het vallen van den machs. False, bv. valsch. Familiar, bv. huisſelijk, 2) ver- srouwd vertrouwelijk, ge- * meenzaam. Familiarity, z. gemeenzaamheid; an air of familiàrity, sem VEF- troswelijk voorkomen. Family, z. huisgezin; the father and mother of the family, de vader en moeder van het huis- gezin. Fàmished, bv. eigenl. dw. yan te Famish, uitgehongerd. Fancy, E. de verbeelding, ver. beeldingskracht, 2) de inval; he took a fancy, hij kwam op de gedachte. to Fancy, o. w. zich inbeeldon ; b. w. to fancy one's self in a- nother one's place, zich vers beelden in iemands plaats te zijn. Fang, z. wortel; teeth with long fangs, tanden met lange wor tels. Fantástick, bv. ingebeeld, gril- lig, aonderling, ti Fir, 386 FE FA Ear, bw. en bv. ver, afgelegen, · wijd; the day was far advą. ced, de dag was reeds groo- tendeels verloopen. to Fáre, o. w. yaren, flagen; this time be fared better, deze reis gelukte het hom beter. Farewèl, fare well, gebiedende -wijs van to fare well, zjarwe). Farewèl, z. het affcheid, het vaarwel; he took his last fare- wel, hij nam zijn laatfte af fcheid. Farmer, z. hooyenaar, pachter, landman. Farther, vorgel. trap van Fa, werder. Farthest, overtreffende trap van Far, verst; at farthest, op her Viosgfs. to Fast, b. w. vasten, zich van fpijzen onthouden. Fast, z. het vasten, nuchter blijven; breakfast, het ontbijt Fast, bv. en bw. vast; to be fast asleep, vest in feap zijn. Fast, bw. Schielijk; as fast a they could, zoo fchielijk als zij konden, to Fasten, b. w. vast maken, be- vestigen; I will fasten (fix) the map against the tree, ik zal de landkaart can den boom hangen, 2) vastfluiten, digt fluisen, 3) vestigen; to fasten one's eyes upon a thing, zijne Dogen op iets vestigen. Fasting, . het vasten; how do you like fasting? hos vinde gij hoe beyali w her het vasten? wasten ? 2. Fat, bv. vet, z. het vet, Fatal, bv. noodlottig, ongelak kig, gevaarlijk. F.te, z. het noodlote - | | Få her, z. de vader; the father of the family, de vader van hẹt huisgezin. Facher'y, bv. vaderlijk. Fathom, z. de vadem, maat yan zes voeten. Fague, z. de vermoeijenis, ver- moeidheid, 2) zware arbeid. to Failgue, b. w. vermoeijen ; they were greatly fatigued, zij WITCH ZECr vermoeid. Fault, z. do fchuld, de fout, da * lag; it was not his fault, het was zijng ſchild niet, 2) het gebrek; for fault of fire, bij gebrek aan vunz. Faulty, bv. gebrekkig. to Favour, b.. w. gunftig zijn, begunḥigen; if fortune favours us ever so little, indien de for- tuin ons flechts eenigermata begunstigt; 2) to be favoured with a thing, met iets verblijd worden, 3) iemand door iots vermaak aandoen, hem plezier doen. Favour, z. de gunst, de welwil. een lendheid, 2) begunßiging; by the favour of the night, onder begunfiging van den nachi, -3) eenen dienst, een vermaak, do me the favour, dos mij has vermaak. 2. Favourable, bv. gunftig; favoue rable wind, gunftige wind. Favourite, bv. begunstigd, gunsteling; my favourite dish, mijn lieffe kost. Fear, z. de vrees; I was in great fear for him, ik was om zijnens wil zeer bevreesd; for fear of falling, uit vrees van se vallen. to Fear, b. w. iets vreezen, os w. bang zijn. Fts FE 387 FI Féarful, bv. vreesachtig. Féarfully, bw. met vrees. Feast, Z. een feestelijke maal- tijd; it was a feast for him, het was kem. een heerlijk maal voor to Feast, o. w. fmullen, zich te goed doen; to feast on his meat, zich met zijn vleeschtrakteren. Feather, z. de veder, de pluim. Fed, dw. van to Feed. Féchle, bv. zwak, moede. to Feed, b. w. voederen, voeden. Feed, z. het voeder, voedsel. to Feel, o, en b. wi gevoelen, roeien, tasten. Féeling, z. het gevoel. Féet, z. mv. vn Foot. Felicity, z. geluk, zaligheid. Fell, a. . van to Fall. to Foll, b. w. vellen, nederhou- wen; to fell trees, boomen af houwen, afhakken, onthakken. Fellow, z. een makker, gezel, metgezel; play fellow, een fpeel makker, kameraad, 2) met verachting of minackting; * poor fellow, een arme duivel; a simple fellow, een onnoozele blosd, met andere z. verbon 2 Ferocious, Sw. wreed, wisstg roofgierig. Ferocity, z. wreedheid, wosit. heid, Fèrtile, bv. vru htbaar. Fertility, z. vruchtbaar keid. Fèrvency, z. innigheid, warmte, your. Fèrvent', bv. insig, hartelijk fervent thank, warme dankle- tuiging; fervent wish, variga wensch his fervent prayers, zijn vurig gebed. Fèrvently, bw, met your. | Eèrvor, z. vurige aandoening des gemoeds. Fèstival, z. een feest, feestdag. Fes:ivity, z. een fees:bedrijf. to Fetch, b. w. halen; 2) te fetched a deep sigh, hij loosde een diepen zucht. to Fetter, b. w. to Fetter, b. w. ketenen, boc Féver, z. de kooris. ! boeijen Féw, bv, weinig y a few, weš, nige Fibrous, bv. vezelig,vezelachtig. Fiction, z. de verdichting, her verdichtfel. Fictitions, bv. verdicht, valsch. Fie! (tusfchenw.) foei! den, wordt dit woordvertaald | Field, z. het veld, de akker; door met of mede, zie de vol- genden: Fellow citizen, z. medeburger. Fellow co batant, z. medeftrij- der. Fellow - créature, z.medsſchepfel, watuar genoot. Felt, dw. van to Feel. the field of battle, har flagvold. Fierce, bv. wild, woest, wreck, a) driftig, enftuimig. Fiery, bv. vurig; fiery eyes, vlammende oogen, 2) verhit. Fife, z. cens fluit, dwarsfluit; with a fife and tabor. Fifteen, bv. vijftien. Fémale, z. een vrouwelijk wezen; | Fifteenth, bv. vijftiende. bv. a female lama, een wijfjes | Fifthly, bw. ton vijfde. lama. Fifty, bv. vijftig. נ to Ferment, o. w. gisten, ingis- | to Fight, b. w. vechsen, 2) b6- ting.geraken. Fermentation, z. gisting, vachten, befirijden'; to fight the enemy, den vijand befirijden. Lis Fight, 388 FI FI Fight, z. een gevechti Figure, z. eone figuur, eene go. daante; b. w. zich voorftellon; figure yourselves, fel » voor, denk eens. aansteken; 2) f. fired, gloei. jend, blakend; fired with indi- guation, van verontwaardiging blakende. Firearms, 2. fchietgeweer. Filament, z de draad, de vezel, Firebrand, z. een brandhout, ader. File, de vijl. Filial, bv. kinderlijk; with filial repentance, mot kinderlijk be- rouw. | brandend hout. Firehearth, z. de haard. Firelock, z. de Snaphaan. Firestone, z. de vaarfteen. Firetong, z. de tang, vuurtang. Filings, z. het vijlfel; filings of Firm, bv. vatt, fevig; a firm írou, ijzervijlſèl. to Fill, b. w. vullen, vervallen; the wind filled the sail, de wind blics het zeil op; 2) to fill up, opvullen; - one's time, ziją one's time, zijn tijd befteden. wall, een stevige muur; 2) 2 firm resolution, een vast, on- wrikbaar befluit; firm confi, dence, ftandvastig vertrouwen. Firmament, z. het uitspansel, de homel. Fill, z. volta; to eat one's fill, Firmly, bv. vast, Randvastigs zijn genorgen eten. Fin, z. de vin (van eenes visch). Finally, bw. ten laatfte, einde. lijk. + to Find, b.. w. vindon, 2) zich bsvindèn he found himself weary,hij bevond zich vermosid; 3) to find, uitvinden; 4) he could not find it in his heart, hij konde het niet van zich verkrijgen. Fine, in fine, ten laatfte, ein- delijk. Fine, bv. fijn, 2) fchoon, voor- treffelijk, 3) ook ironisch: oh fine! dat is wat fraais! Finely, bw. fchoon, fraai; you have bit it finely, gij hout het mooi geraden! Finger, z. de vinger; the fore- foger, de voorfte vinger. tot to F nish, b. w. eindigen, tot fand brengen. Fre, z. vuur; to be on fire, in brand flees. to Fire, b. w. fchieten, vuren lijk; he was firmly resolved, hij had vast befloten. Firmness, z. vastigheid; in re- gard to Armness, ten aanzien der vastigheid, 2) ftandvas- tigheid; armness of mind, kloe-. ke geost, vast karakter. First, bv. sorst; at the first sight, op het eerfte gezigs, 2) bw. eerftelijk, in het begin, ook: at first, what they first (of at first) supposed, wat zij oorst dachten. Firstly, at first, zie first, bwa. Fish, z. een visch. to Fish, b. w. sisfchen. Fishbone, z. cené vischgraat. Fisherman, z. cen visfckor. Fishing, z. de vischvangst, vis-- fcherij. Fishing net, z. een vischnet. Fit, z. het toeval, de aanval es- ner ziekte; hot and cold fits suc- ceeded each other, heese ex koude aanvallen volgden op el- kander, 2) plotſelijke veran› dia. FL 389 FL : dering; in a fit of despair, in een wanhopig oogenblik; in a fit of joy, bij eene onverwach te blijdschap, 3) onmagt; he fell into a fit, hij viel in zwijm. Fit, bv. (mes for), bekwaam gefchiks, dienftig. to Fit, b. w. Foebereiden, ge- fchiks of dienflig maken, 2)0 w. passen, geſchikt zijn, be- tamen; it would not fit the circumstances het zoude ir zulke omstandigheden niet bo- tamen. Five, bv. vijf. to Fix, b. w. bevestigen; he fixed a mark, hij maakte sen téeken daaraan he fixed a flag ; tó a stick stick, hij maakte eene vlag aan eenen fok vass, 2) bepalen; to fix a day, eenen dag bepalen; fixed upon, be paald, beftemd. K Flag, 2. eene vlag to hoist a flag, eene vlag hijſchen, op- fråken. Fláil, z. dorschylegel. Flame, z. vlam, het vuur. to Flame, b. w. ontvlammen, branden. to Flash, b. w. losbarften, your geven. - Flat, bv. plat; a flat nose, bw. plak, vlak; be laid himself flat down, hij leide zich plat op den grond. to Flatter, b. w. vleijen ; to flat ter one's self with hopes, zich met hoop yleisen. Flax, z. het vlas. Flaxy, beter flaxen, bv. yaz vlas, vlasaardig, vlasfig, vlas- achtig. : Fèd, o. t. en dw. van to Flee. to Fide,-o. w. vlugten.. Flesh, z. vleesch, 2) vleeschýpijs. Flew, o. t. van to Fly. Flexible, bv. baigzaam. Flight, z. de vlugt. Fling, b. w. flingeren,werpen; 2) to fling down, op den grond werpen, nederwerpen. Flint, z. een vuurfteen. to Float; o. w. drijven; the boat was floating, de boot dreef. Float, z. aflaat. Flock, z. de kudde. Flodd, z. de vloed, overſtroo- ming. Flúor, z. de vloer- · Flaming, dw. vlammerde, bran- Flour, z. het meel, bloem yaq dende. Flank, z. de flank, vleugel, zij- de; two cannons commanded the right flank, twee fukken be fireken de regtor flåuk. Flap, z. a fly flap, een vliegen- klap. to Flap, b. w. flaan; he flapped his forehead, hij floeg zich tex gen het voorhoofd. Flash, Z. een plotfelijk licht: - of powder, het ontbranden van buskruid', of lightning, een blikfemfiraal. meeli to Flourish, b. w. bloeijen. to Fłów, o, w. vlieten, vlocijen. Flower, z. cene bloem. Flowerbed, z. een bloembed. Flowergarden, z. een bloemtuix, Flown, dw van to Fly. Flung, dw, en o. t. van to Fling. to Fly, o. w. vliegen, 2) vluge ten, ontvlugton; 3) to let fly, affchieten, losbranden; 4) co fly xp, in de lucht vliegen. Fly, z. cene vlieg. Flydap, z. een vliegenklap. I is Fly 390 FO FO Flying, dw. van to Fly, a flying | Footstep, z. de voetſtap. For, (voegw.), wons. fish, een vliegende visch. to Foam, o. w. ſchuimen ; w. fcheimen; the foaming bellows, de fchuimen- de golven. Fodder, z. het voeder. Foe, z. de vijand. to Fold, b. w. vouwen; folded his bands, vouwde zijne handen, leide zijne handen zamen. Fólk, z. menſchen, volk, lie- den; young folks, jonge lieden. to Follow, b. w. volgen Folly, z. dwaasheid. Fond, bv. liefhebbend; 2) tỏ he fond of a thing, iets bemin nen, van iets veel houden. to Fondle, b. w.liefkozen, troe- tolen. Fondling, 2. een lieveling. Food, z. voedfel; a well tasted and wholesome food, een ſma- kelijk en gezond voedsel. Foól, z. een zot, een gek. Foolish, bv. gek, 2) grappig. Foolishly, bw. dwaasfelijk; it was foolishly spoken of the young man, het was een dwaas ge- zegde van den jongeling. Foot, z. de voet (van menfchen en dieren), 2) de voes, het onderfie gedeelte; the foot of a tree, de voet van eenen boom; the foot of a hill, van eenen berg; 3) een voet, twaalf duimen lengte, in het laatſte geval verandert het foms mist in her mv. inzonderheid wan- neer or con bv. opvolgt: twen- ty footlong, twintig voet lang. Footing, z. de voet, levonswij- ze; on this footing, op dezon voet, op deze wijze. Footman, Z. een lijſknecht; a running footman, sen looper. For, vz, voor; he left him for dend, hij liet hem voor dood liggen; for fear, uit vrees ; be would for his life have gone to B, hij zou om al wat hem lief Was noar B. hebben wil. len gaan; for my part, voor mij, ik voor mij, wat mij bes treft ; a ship bound for Jamai- ca, een schip naar Jamaika beftomd; for ever, voor Cou wig; I was in great fear for him, ik was zeer om hem be- kommerd, bevreesd; for a while, voor eenigen tijd; but for, ware het niet om; for all that, met dat alles. to Forbear, o. w. zich onthou- don, achterlaten; to forbear from quarrels, zich van kra. keel onthexden, to Forbid, b. w verbieden; God forbid, God verhoede het, das zij verre. " Force, z. de kracht, de ftorkte. to Force h. w. dwingen, nood. zaken; to be forced into the conspiracy. Forcebly, bw. hevig, ap some gewelddadige wijze. Fóre, bv. het voorfte; the fore part, het voorſte gedeelte. Forefinger, z. de voorste vinger. Foregò, o. v. voorafgaan; fore. going, dw. voorafgaande. Forehead, z. hes voorhoofd. Foreign, bv. vreemd, uitheemscha in foreign regioas, in vreemde landen, landſtreken. Foremost, bv. het, de voorſte: on the foremost peninsula, op het voorfic fchiereiland, Cap has FO 391 FO het fchiereiland aan dézi zijë | to Forsake, b. w. verlaten. de van den Ganges). Fúrenoon, z. de voormiddag: Forepart, z. het voorfle gedeel te, 2) het eerfte gedeelte (van tijd fprekende): Foresaw, 0. t: vas to Foresee. ti to Foresáy, b. w. voorzeggen, voorspellen. to Foresee, b. w.voorzicz, voor- sirzien. Foresight, z. vooruitzigt, VOOR- zigtigheid, inzigt. Forest, 2. hes woud, het bosch. to Forfelt, b. w. verbeuren, verr liezen; to forfeit one's life, zijn leven verbeuren. Forge, z. eene fmederij. to Forget, b. w. vergeten, Forgive, b. w. reigeven, ser- giffenis fcheuken. Forgiveness, z. vergiffenis. Forgot, o. t van to Forget.- Fork, z. de Tork. 82115 Fotky, by, tweetandig, gefole- als eene vork; two forky branches, woe takken als van eene vork. Forlorn, bv. verlaten, hulpeloos; forlorn creature, arm yerlaten Schepfel; a forlorn condition, een hulpeloos teeftand. Form, z. de vorm, gedapnte, a) de wijze of manier; in due form, op behoorlijke wijze. to Form, b. w. Vormen; to form an idea, sen denkbeeldvormen; to form a conjecture, gisfen, vermoeden, 2) uismaken, vor. IN 87. Former, bv. het, de vorige, eerst- gemelde, 2) de eerfte. Formerly, bw. eertijds, voorheen. Formidable, bv. vreesfelijk fchrikbarend. Forsoók, o. t. van to Forsake. Forth, bw. af, voorwaarts (van tijd ſprokends'); from this time forth, van dezen tijd af, in het vervolg, 2) voor; to come forth, voorkomen, optreden g to send forth, uitzenden; sally forth, voorwaaris rukkeuz to take forth, krijgen. Fortieth, bv. de veertigfte: Fortification de vesting - fthans: to to Fortify, b. w. verfterken, be ien vestigen, 2) versterken, mand in zijn befluit doen vol harden, 3) opwekken, aanmoe► digen, opbeuren. Fortitade, z. moed, Fondvastig- heid. Fortnight, zamentrekking van fourteen nights, veertien dagen, Fortress, z. eene vesting, fterke plaets, Fortunate, bv. gelukkig. Fortunately, bw. gelukkiglijk. Fortune, z. de fortuin, lukgo. din, het geluk, het lot, het noodlot; if fortune favour uş ever so little, indien flechts de fortuin ons gunftig is, 2) a good fortune, an ill fortune, a misfortune, een goed of flecht toeval; by fortune, bij geluk ; 3) vormogen, rijkdom, goede- ren. Forty, bv. veertig. Forward, Forward, forewards, bw. voor. waarts; to go backwards for- wards, heen en weer gaan, 2) yas tijd; from this time for• ward, van us af can, VAS nu of. to Forward, b. w. bespoedigen, bevorderen. 114 For. 392 F. R FR rwardness, z. voorbarigheid, | French, z. de franschman ; french onbezónnenheid. Fought, o. t. van to Fight. Foul, bv. vail; morfig. Found, e. t. en dwi van to Find. Fomination, z. de grondflag. to Founder, o. w te grondgaan; w: the ship would founder, het hip ging zinken. Fountain; z de bion, de fon tein. ? Four, bv. vier; to creep on all fours, op handen en voeten kruipen. Füurlands, z. de vierlandcn, cen gedeelte van het gebied van Hamburg. Fourteenth, bv. veertiende. Fourth, bv. vierde. mv. de franfchon. to Frequent, o. w. verkeeren, omgaan (met).' Frequently, bw. meermaleń, dik. wijls. 5 Fresh, bv. frisch versch; fresh water, versch water; fresh air, verfche lucht; to take fresh courage, nieuwen (frisfchen) mocdfcheppen, 3) wakker,le■ vendig, 4) Stork, tamelijk fork; a fresh gale, eene fris. fche koelte. Prèsbnest, z. de koelte. Friction, ze de wrijving. Friday, z. vrijdag, 2) Vrijdag, de naam van Robinsons losgoo 71005. Fowl, z. een vogel, =) gevogelte | Fried, dw. en o't. van to Fry. in het algemeen. Friend, z. de vrien di Fihilty, z. zwakheid, gebrekke-Friendly, bv. en bw. vriendelijk,j lijkheid, broosheid. vriendſchappelijk. + Frime; z. het raam, de flellaad- Friendship, z. de vriendſchap. je; fime of beams, een rifto Fright, b. w. verfchrikken, qanbalken, 2) de ligchamelij- ་ & ke geftelte; his whole frame trombled, zijn ganſchè ligchasm beefde; 3) frame of mind, ge- moedsgefteldheid. to Fame, b. w.vormen; to frame a judgment, een oordeel vor wen, vollen. France, z. Frankrijk, .F.ankly, bv. openhartig. Fraternal, bv. broederlijk. Fraud, z. een bedrog. Frée, bv. vrij, to set free, op vrije voeten ftellen. to Frée, b. w. vreijen, vrij la- ten, bevrijden. Fréely, bw. vrijwillig, vrije- lijk. French, hv.fransch; french beans, roomfche boonen. doen schrikken, vrecs aanjagen. Fright, z. de fchrik, vrees; to put one in a fright, iemand vrees aanjagen; to Frighten, b. w. deon ſchriko kon, ſchrik aanjagen; fright- ened to death, doodelijk vers fchrikt. Frightful, bv. fchrikkelijk, vrees- felijk. } Frightfully, bw. op eene fchriks kelijke, vreesfelijke wijze. From, vz. van (het gewoonlijke toeken van den vierden naam* val, ablativus), from on high, - om hoogs from thence,. van daar; from without, van buiten; from in plaats van out; bij ſommige engelsche werkwoorden bezig men from hose FU 39% FU hetwelk alsdan door onder. feleidene hollandfche vz. ver- taald wordt, als: als: to hinder one from doing a thing, iemand in iets hinderen. Front, z. de voorzijde, het front. Frozen, dw, van to Freeze, the frozen sea, de ijszee. Frugal, z. paarzaam, 2) matig. Frugality, z. Spoorzaamheid, 2) matigheid. Fruit, z. de vrucht: Fruitless, bv. vruchtelooss Fruittree, z. vruchtbooms to Frùstrate, b. w. verijdelon, te lear ftellen; to frustrate one's hopes, ismands hoop verij de- len; to be frustrated in one's hopes, to leur gefteld wor- denden. to Fry, b. w. braden, bakken; 2) to fry out, doordringen, uitfiepeles. Fryingpan, z. de braadpan. Fuel, Z. brandstof, al wat voed- fel aan het vuur geoft. Fugitive, bv. vlugtig, vlug- sende. Fágitive, z. een vlugteling. to Fulfil, b. w. vervullen, 2)be vredigen. Full, bv. vel; to have eat one's belly full, zijn genoegen gege- ten hebben; to fall at full length, zoo lang als men.is op dem grond vallen. || Full, bw. ten vollen; full as good, ruim zoo goed. Fully, bw, ten vollen, volkomen; he was fully convinced, hij was volkomen overtuigd; fully re- solved, rast beſloten hebbends. Fulsome, bv. walgelijk. Für, z. bont, pels; wrapped up in far, in pelswerk gewikkeld. Fúrious, bv. woedend, razend, verweed, onstuimig. to Furl, b. w. wikkelon, kreg.- ken, kreukelen; to farl a sail, een zeil oprollen, inhalen. Furnace, z. het formuis, de oven. to Furnish, b. w. voorzien met hst noodige. Furniture, z. huisroad, 2) ge- rasdſchappen in het algemeen.. Further, vergelijkende trap vun Forth, bv. en bw. voorts, vera der; till a further order, tor nader bevel; let us hear what happened further, laat ons hoo- Pen wat er voorts gebeuraes- Fürchest, overtreffende trap vas Forth; at furthest, ten langfej the furthest point, het verfiè, uiterße einde. Fúry, z, de woede. Fúcure, bv. toekomftig, z. de tockomit. Futurity, 2. de toekomst; in the remotest futurity, in de laasfie soekomst.. ་ GA GA to Gain, b. w. winnen; to gafu | Gáte, z:˜een frisſche wind, hare one's end, zijn doel bereiken. Gainer, z winner, iemand die wist; to be a gainer, de win- nende partij zijn.. de wind. Gallaut, bv. dapper, braaf. Galleon, 2. eens foort van groo re ſchepon, congaljoen,galjas. Lis Garb, 394 GI GE Garb, z. de kleeding. Cardin, z. de tuis. Gårdener, z de tuinier, tuinman. Gardenground, z. de moesgrond. Chrdening, z. de tuinbouw, de tuinmanskunst. Gardenwork, z tuinwerk. Garter, z. de koufuband. Gate, z. eene poort, groote deur; not far from the gates of Ham- bro', niet ver van de Ham- burgfcha poorten. to Gather, b. w. intumeler,ver- zamelen. Gave, o. t. van to Give. Gauts, z. het gebergte Gates, op het fchiereiland can doze zijde van den Ganges. Gecse, niv. von Goose, z. a Geese go, eene ganzenwri. Gèneral, z. het geheel, het al- gemeen; in general, in het al- gemeen, 2) de generaal, veld- hecr, to Gêt, b. w. betamen, verkrijė . gu + gen, aannemen; he got sight of it hij kreeg het in het oog, -2) maken dat iets gefchiedrs he got himself enlisted, hij nam dienst, 3) door arbeid en mɔeid te verkrijgen; he got an bonese livelihood, hij bekwam eзn fat- Soonlijk bestaan, 4) als beloo ning ontvangen, now he gets his deserts, xu krijgt hij loon naar werken; 5) to get out, uitbrengen; to get through, tot stand brengen; to get hold of one, iemand vatten, aan. vatten, 6). o. w. zich voors bewegen; he got up, hij Bond op; to get under sail, onder zeil gaan, 7) geraken, bereiken, aankomen; the fire had got to the powder room, het vuur was aan de kruidkamer gekomen; 8) to get the betterof, de over- hand behalen. * Generally. bu over het alge Giddy, bv. duizėlig, 2) ligga meen, a) gemeenlijk. Generátion, z. het geflacht, hat *ijdperk. Gênerous, bv: grootmoedig, edel. moedig. Gènerously, bw.grootwoodiglijk. Gentéel, bv. fatsoenlijk; a gen- tuel education, cene fatsoenlij- ke opvoeding. Gentle, bv. zacht, bv. zacht, záchtmoedig. Gentlemen, z. een heer, con fat- foenlijk man. Gèntly, bw. zachtmoediglijk vriendelijk. Geographical, bv. aardrijkskun de; in your geographical lessons, in uwe aardrijkskundige lossen. German, by duitsch. 3: Germany, z. Duitschlandi Gèsture, z. gebaarden. | zinnig; some giddy young men eenige onbezonneue jongs lie don, 3) in eene hooge mate met iets ingenomen zijn ; I will have his head turn giddy, ik wil hem daarmede het hoofd op hol brengen. + Gift, z. de gave, het geſchenk. to Gild, b. w. vergulden; 2) fig. the sun gilded the tops of the mountains, de zon vergulde de bergtoppen. Giulet, z. een boor. Gin, z. een ftrik, een val. * to Gird, b. w. omgorden, aan. gorden. Girdle, z. de gordal. Girl, z. het meisje. + to give, b. w. geven; 2) to give way, wijken, fosgeven ; to give one's GO 395 GO one's self up to one, zich aan iemand overgeusn. Giver, z. de gever. Glad, bv. vrolijk; I am glad of it, het verheugt mij. Gladly, bw. met blijdſchap. Glass, z. hes glas, zoo wel het glas, als foffe, als de daat- uit vervaardigde vaten. Glassbead, z. de glaskoroal. to Glaze, b. w. verglazen. to Glitter, 0. w. Schemeren, blinken; a glittering thing, iets blinkends. Globe, z. de aardbol, s) eene kunftig vervaardigde aardbol, eene globe. · Gloóm, z. duisterheid, 2) droe. vigheid. Gloomy, bv. donker, duister; gloomy shades, donkere feha- duw. Glúrious, bv. roemrijk; it was a glorious night, het was 0cn roemrijke nacht. Glove, z. een handfcheen. to Glów, o. w. gloeijen, eigen lijk en f. Gnát, z. esne mug. to Guaw, b. w. knagen, knob- belen. to Go, o. w. gaan; if he would go along with him, of hij met hem wilde gaan, 2) op het pant zijn van iets te doen; he was going to see the world, hij ging de wereld zien; 3) mes about, iess ondernemen ; 4) to go astray, dwalen; 5) the sky goes down, de zon gaas en- der: 6) to go on, voortgaan. Goát, z. de geis. God, z. God. vrooms Godly, bv. godzalig, godly actions, vrome daden. Góing, dw. van to Go, he was going to see, hij ging zien. Gold, z. goud. Golddust, z. ftofgoud. Goldcoin, z. gouden munt. Golden, bv. van goud, gouden. Gone, dw. van to Go, the mo ther was too far gone, de moe der was to ver weg, ie zeer verzwakt. - Good, bv. goed, a) dienftig; your umbrella is good for no. thing, aw regenfcherm deugs nies, 3) aanmerkelijk; a good whrie, eene goede poos; a good. deal, veel; 4) to be as good as one's word, woord houden. Good, z. een goed, het goede it would do not good, het zou. de geen goed doen,2) het bes se; for our good, voor ons wol» zijn; you will find much good by it, gij zult u daarbij zeer wel bevinden; 3) goods,´gol= deren, waren. Goóduátured, goed. 辈 ​bv. goedhartig, Goodness, z. de goedheid; the goodness of his constitution, zija goede ligchaamsgeftel. Goose, z. de gans. Gooseberry, z. de anlbes. Gooseberrybush, z. de aalbesfons Aruik. Got, o, t. en dw. van to Get. Gotten, dw. yan to Get. to Govern, b. w. regeren; to govern the boat, de boos Stu- reng a) beheerfchen. Government, z. de regering, rc- geringswijze. Godliness, z. vroomheid, godza Governour, z. de beſtuurder; 2) ligheid. de Stadhouder y gonworneur, Grá. 396 GU GR 5 Gráce, z. de genade, de gunst; a) de vergiffenis, bet pardon. Grácions, bv. genadig. graad, zeer; greatly rejoiced, zeer verhougd. Greediness, z. de gretigheid. Good gracious! (tusfchenw.) lis | Greek, z. de griek. ve home!! Graciously, bw. genadiglijk. Gradually, bw, trøpsgewijze langzamerhand. to Gràft, b. w. enten. Gràft, z. een entstok, entsak. Grafting, z. het enten. Grafting wax, z. boomlijm. Gráin, z. het graan, koorn, 2) zaad van andere gewasfen; 3) korrels; grains of shot, hagel. Granary, z. de ſchuur. Grandpapa, z. de grootvader. to Grant, b. w, toestaan, ver.¦ | • Green, bv. groen. Green, z. de groente, kruiden. Grew, o. t. vaa to Grow. Grief, z. de droefheid. to Griéve, b. w. bedroever; ic grieves me, het doet mij loed. Grievous, bv. verdrietelijk. Grievously, bw. verdrietelijk. to Grind, b. w. wrijven, malen; to grind corn, koorn malen. Grindstone, z. een molenficen, een Alijpfteen. to Gróan to Gróan, o. w. kermen, zuchtes. gunnen; God grant, geve God, Gróan, Z. een zucht. to grant grace, genade bewij | Groóm, z. knecht; a groom of zen; you shall have your lives the chamber, een kamerdienaar. granted, gij zult het leven be-Gròito, z. een hol, gros. houden. Grápe, z. de druif,druiventros. to Grass, b. w. grijpen, vatten. Grass, z. het gras. Grassplot, z. het bleekveld, gras. veld, grasplek. Gratification, z. de bevrediging. Grateful, bv. dankbaar. Gratefully, bw, met dankbaarheid. to Gratify, bw. boyredigen; to gratify one's curiosity, iemands nieuwsgierigheid bevredigen. Grátis, bv. kosteloos, om niet. Gratitude, z. de dankbaarheid. Gråve, bv. ernſtig, plegtig. Gráve, z. het graf. Gravely, bw. ernſtiglijk. to Gráze, o. w.grazen, weiden. Greát, bv. groof; a great many, eene groote menigte, 2) groot (tijd beduidende ); a great while, een geruimen tijd. Greatly, bw conen hoogen Ground, 0, t. en dw. van to Grind. Ground, z. de grond; he fell on the ground, hij viel op den grond; an elevated ground, con verhevene grond, 2) de grond, rede, het bewijs. to Ground, b. w. gronden, ves» tigen; well grounded, wel ge- grond. Ground-floor, z. de benedenvloer. to Grów, o. w. groeijen, was, fen, a) worden; it grew dark, hes werd donker. Grown, dw. van to Grow; grown people, volwassen menfchen. Growth, de wasdom, groei. 1 to Grüb, b. w. met den wortel uitgraver. Guanako, z. een Zuidamerikaansch dier, ook lama genoemd. to Guard, b. w. bewaken, bewa. ren, a) beſelier men. G#- GU ! GU 897 Guárd, z. de wacht; 2) to be upou one's guard, op zijne hoe- de zijn. Guàrding, bv. beſchermend ; guar- ding care, de beſchermende zorg, to Guess, b. w. en o. w. gisfen, vermoeden, 2) raden. Guest, z. de gast. Guídance,z. de leiding, beſtiering. to Guide, b. w.geleiden, besturen. Guide, z. een leidsman. Guile, z. de list, het bedreg; in whom there was no guile, in wien geene valschheid fchuilde. Guilt, z. de fchuld, de misdaad. Gufity, bv. ſchuldig ; woich I have been guilty of, waaraan ik mij heb fchuldig gemaakt. Guinea, z. eene landftreek aan 1 + de westkust van Afrika; a Guinea trader, een Guinea vaar- der, 2) eeno enge!!che goud, munt, van 21 engelfche fchel- lingen, (ruim 11 gulden hol- landsch). Gull, z. eene foort van zeemeeuw. Gulph, z. de afgrond. Gun, z. fchietgeweer, ſnaphean, kanon. Gunpowder, z. buskruid, to Gush, b. w. uitforten; a ‘ear gushed down his cheek ? eene traan vloeide langs zijne wang.. Gust, z. de Root; a gush of wind, een rukwind, Gút, z. een darm; mv. het inge- wand. HA Habit, z. de gewoonte, manier; an easy habit, ongedwengene manieren. Habitation, z. woning. Habitual, bv. hebbelijk, gewoon. Hackle, z. de hekel. to Hackle, b. w. hekelen. Had, o. t. en dw. van to Have. Hail, z. de hagel. له Ildir, z. het haar; your hair will staud on end, de haren zullen te berge rijzen. Half, bv. half; bw. half, ten halve. Halloo (tusfchenw.) allo!, to Halloo, b. w. allo rosper, Canmoedigen. HA Hand, z. de hand; his hand is in, hij is daarmede bezig; winter is at hand, de winter isop han- den i before hand, vooraf, vooruit. Handful, z. eene handvol. Handicraft, z, een handwerk. Handicraftman, z. cen ambachts◄ 77 (172. Handkerchief, z. een mensdoek. Handle, z. ket handvatfel, hacht, de feel. to Handle, b. w. behandelen, hanteren ; how to handle knife, hoe hij met een mos maest omgaan. Hàndmill, z. een handmolen. to Halt, o. w. blijven faan,kalt | Handsome, bv. moei̟, fraai,lief, houden. Hammer, z. de hamer. aardig, 2) dienfig. to Hang, b. w. hangen; to bang wa 398 HE HA out, aithangen; to hang down, nederlaten, a) ophangen (ie- mand), 3) o. w. hangen; to barg down, neorhangen. to Happen, o. w. toevallig ge- bearen; let us hear what hap- pened to R., laat ons hooren was R. bejegende; a ship that happened to be near, con fchip hetwelk toevallig in de nabij- heid was, 2) toevallig tot iets geraken. Happily, bw. bij geluk, geluk- kiglijk. Happiness, z. het geluk. Happy, bv. gelukkig. Harassed, bv. vermoeid, afgetobt to Harbour, b. w. herborgen; tɔ harbour a suspicion, esnen arg- waan voeden. Hård, bv. en bw, hard, vast, 2) zwaar, moeijelijk; a bard con- test een harden frijd; to work hard, hard werken, 2) ferk, hevig; it rained very hard, het regende zeer fterk. to Harden, b. w. verhardan, fterk maken; to harden one's consti- tution, zijn ligchaam verfter- ken; o. w. hard worden, ver- harden. Hardly, bw. naauwelijks, be- zwaarlijk. | Harness, z. het hoofdtuig van een paard. to Harness, b. w. het hoofdtuig aandoen, toomeu. Harrow, z. de eg. to Harrow, b. w. eggen. Harry, . verkort van Henry 9 Hondrik. Harsh, bv. ruw, hard. Harvest, z. de orgst. Hàsp, z. can grendel. ་ Haste, z. haast, spoed; in haste, haastig; to make haste, zich haasten. • to Hasten, haste, zich haasten; to haste away, zich weg/pos→ den; to basten a work, een werk fchielijk afmaken. Hasily, bw. haastiglijk. Hasty, bv. haastig; with hasty steps, met haastige fchreden. Hát, z. de hoed. Hatches, z. de bijl; his stone hat- ches, zijn eenen bijl. Hateful, bv. hatelijk. to Have, b. w. hebben. Having, dw. van to Have, ook z. het hebben. to Hául, b. w. trekken, ſlepen; they hauld the boat to the ship. zij haalden de boet naar het Schip toe. Háy, z. het hoof. Hardship, z. vermoeijenis, onge- Háyrick, z. de hooivork. mak. Harm, z. kwaad, beleediging; it had done him no harm, het had hem geen leod gedaan, 2) ſcha- nadeel; what harm wine de • does, hoe nadeelig de wijn is. Farmless, bv. onfchadelijk, on- fchuldig. Harmónious, bv. overeenfiem mend. Harmony, 2. overcenftemming. Hazelnut, z, een hazelnoot. Hé, (perſ. voornw.) hij, 2) een mannelijk dier; a he lama, een lamabok; a he one, een man netje. Head z. het hoofd; head over heels, hels over hoofd, s) de Spits, de top, 3) verſtand, wil; it come into his head, he put it into his head, hij kwam op de gedachte; it ran through his HE 399 HE de verhitting, op his head, hat ging how door | Heating, Z. het hees maken, 2) het hoofd; this head of mine is an excellent one, viyat mijn kop! 4) hoofdafdeeling, hoofd - fuk; to unite them under one common head, om dezelven on der cen puns to zamen te bren gena Flèadake, headache, z. hoofdpijn. Headlong, bw. hals over hoofd, hals over kop. to Héal, b. w. heelen. Health, z. de gezondheid. Healthy, bv. gezond, ch Heap, z. een hoop. ☛ to Héan, b. w. ophoopen, opſtar pelen. to Hear, b. w. en o w. haeres. to Hearken, o, w. luisteren; they hearkened to him with great at. tention, zij luisterden mer groote oplettendheid maar hem. Heart, z her hart, (zoo wel ei- genlijk als f.), with all my heart, zeer gaarne, he could not find it in his heart, hij kon het nier van zich verkrijgen; he took heart, hij schepto moed; a) geheugen; to know by heart, vau buiten kennen; 3) for this heart, voor zijn leven. Hearts ease, z. at his hearts ease, naar wensch. Hearth, z. de haard. Heartily, bw. hartelijk, ? Hearty, bv. harsig, hartelijk; a hearty shake, een duchtigs Schok. W Heat, z. de hitte, 2) de hevig heid, drifs, in the heat of his joy, in het midden zijner blijd- Schap. to Héave, b. w. opheffen, optrek- ken; to heave on shore, firand trokken, 2) uis de borst opheffen; to heave a deep sigh, eone zware Zucht leoZEN. Heaven, z. de hemel, 2) het ope perwezen. Heavenly, bv. hemelsch ; our heavenly father, onze hemelsche vader. 2. Heavily, bw.bezwaarlijk, zwaar, Heavy, bv. zwaar, 2) traag langzaam; time appears heavy to him, de tijd vølt hem lang. Hèdge, z. eene heg, omheining. Héed, acht, zorg, opmerk Si zaam; let him who stands take heed, die ftaat zie toe enz. Héel, z. de hiel van den voet; at his heels, can sijue hielan; head over heels, hals over kope Héight, z. de hoogte, a) de bong- Ao trap of groed; in the height of his joy, in het midden, op het hoogste, zijner vreugde y when the fire was burning at its height, toon de vlammen koog opfloegen. to Héighten, by w. verhoogan, verheffen. Heir, & de erfgenaam. Held, o. . en dw. van to Hold. to Help, b. w. helpen, bijſtaan, 2) verhinderen, verhelpen; we can't help it, wij kunnen het nist helpen; he could not help but, hij kon niet dan; he could not help shedding a tear, kij kon sich niet onthouden trav nen te forten, 3) aan tafel, 4 to Heat, b. w. verkiston, heat 4 iemand dienen; to help one to maken. Heathen, z. een heiden. some thing. Help, z. de hulp. Kka Hel 400 H I Η Ι Helper, z. de helper. Helpless, bv. hulpeloos; in his helpless condition, in zijnen hulpeloozen toeftand. Hem! (tusfchenw.) hei, ei! Hemp, z. honnip. Hence, bw. van hier, van daar. Henceforth, bw. in het vervolg, in het toekomende. Henry, z. Hendrik. Her, (perfoonl. voornaamw.) haar, (ook van Schepen in het en- gelsch), a wave carried her up to the sky, eene golf voerde hetzelve naar de wolken; while she lay on one side, terwijl het op zijde lag. Herb, z. eone plant, kruid. Herd, z. eene kudde. Hére, bw. hier. Hére about, bw. hieromtrent. Héroafter, bw. hierna. Héreby, bw. hierbij, hierdoor, door dit middel. Hérein, bw. hierin, daurin, er in. Héreof, bw. hiervan, daarvan. Héreon, bw. hierop, hieraan. Hereto, bw. hiertoe, hieraan. Ilèrmit, z. de kluizenaar. Héro, heroe, z. de held. Heròical, bv. heldhaftig. Herring, z. een haring. to Hèsitate, b. w. aarzelen, be- fuiteloos zijn, huiverig zijn; he besitated a few moments, hij bedacht zich eenige oogen- blikken. Hesitation, z. de besluiteloosheid; without any hesitation, zonder een oogenblik te aarzelen. to Hew, b. w. houwen, vollen, 2) bohouwen, inhouwen. Hid, o. t. en dw. van to Hide, verbergen. to Hide, b. w. verbergen; ke hid himself behind a tree, hij ver bergde zich achter eenen boom. Hide, z. de huid van een dier. Hideous, bv. afzigtelijk, affch um welijk. Hideously, bw. afſchuwelijk. High, bv. en bw. hoog; on higb, in de hoogte; from ou high, van boven, a) hovig, ferk; the wind blew high, het waaide geweldig; high winds, harde winden. Highly, bw. ten hoogte; he was highly delighted, hij was zeer verblijd. High water, z. hoog water,vloed, Springtij. Hill, z. bergje, heuvel. Hìm, (van he, perfoonl. voor naamw.) hem. Himself, (perfooul. voornaamw.) hem zelven, hij zelf; he was besides himself, hij was buites zich zelven; he lived by him- self, hij leefde op zich zelven. Hind, bv. achterfte, achteren; the hind part, het achterdeel s a hindquarter, een achterfuk. Hinder van Hind, zie Hind; on his hinderlegs, op zijne achter. poten. to Hinder, b. w. verhinderen, hinderen, (mes from). Hinge, z. het fchernier. Hiut, z. cen wenk, toefpeling. His, (bezittel. voornaanw.) zijn, zijne; enkelv. on mv. History, z do gofchiedenis; bis- tory of travels, reisbefchrij-- ving; natural history, natuur- lijke gefchiodonis. to Hit, b. w. treffen, raken; he hit the mark, hij trof het doel to hit upon a notion, op eene gedachte komen; hit upon, aan- glo Η Ο 401 HO (geduid, aangewezen, 2) rade i, juist gisfen; you have hit it gij hebt hes geraden. Hit, z. een flag, worp, houw, 2) een toeval'; a lucky hit, een gelukkig toeval, 3) een inval. Hitherto, bw. tot nu toe, hier toe. home, zijue eigen haardßade verlaten. Home, bw. naar huis, huiswaarts, to“ go home, naar zijne haard- fede terugkeerėn. Honest, by. eerlijk; regtſchapen, broaf; an honest man Ben braaf man. - Hobgoblin, z. een spook, herſen- Honesty, z. de braafheid, eers fchimmig wezen. Hogshead, z. een okshoofds.con groot var. to Hoist, b. w. in de hoogte hef- fen; to hoist the sail, het zei! opkijſchen; to hoist a flag, e:- ne vlag opfteken; to hoist a boat, eene boot uitzetten. to Hold, b, w. houden, to hold out, withouden, uitftrekken; to hold a conversation, een ge- Sprck houden. Hold, z. it has no hold, het heeft geen hondvast; 2) to lay hold, take hold, get hold of a thing, iets aangrijpen, vatten; 3) the hold, het raim vas een fchip; there is four foot water in the hold, er is vier vost was ser in het ruïn. Hóle, z. een hol, 2) con gåti- Hollow by hot; the tree was hollow with age, de boom was door ouderdom aisgehold. to Hollow, b. w. hol maken, uit. hellan. Hollow, z. eene holte, con hol, a) de diepse Holy, bv. heilig. Homage, z. de eed van getrouw- heid, de håldiging; to do him fromage, ham huldigen. Home, z. het huis; at home, te huis; 2) de haardftede, het va• derland; to leave one's own lijkheid. to Honour, b. w; eeren, achsen. hoog. Honour, z. het eerambt, de waar. Bigheid, 2) de Honourable, bv. geëerd, achtings waardig, eervöl. to Hòp, o. w. huppelen, hopping about, rondhuppelende: Hope', z. de hoop, to be in hopes, hoop voeden. to Hope, b. w. hopen. Horizon; z. de gezigteinder, ho rizon. Horizontally, bw, horizontaal waterpas. Horn, z de hoorn. Horned, bv. gehoornd, met hoor- nan voorzién; the horned mon- ster, het gehoornde gedrogs. Horribly, bw. ijsfelijk, fchrikke lijk, akelig Horror 2. fats ſchrikkelijks, ortesſelijks, akeligį, Horse, z. het paard. Horsehair, z: het paardèhear. Hospitality, z. de gastvrijheid, Host, z. de gastheer. Hostile bv. vijandelijk; in a hostile manner, op eene vijans delijke wijze. Hot, bv. hees; redhot, gloeijend, Hour, z. het uur, 2.) de klok. House, z. het huis; a storehouse; een voorraadſchuør, pakhuis ge magazijn. 402 HY HU flousehold, z, de huishouding, 2) | to Hunt, bw. en o. w. jagen. huisraad. Hole, bw. hoe, op welke wijze. However, bw. intusschen, even- wel, echter, niettemin; how- ever great, hoe groot ook. Howl, z. het gehuil. to Howl, o. w. huilen; a howling hurricane, een huilende form. Howling, z. het gehuil, geloei. to fùddle, o. w. zich in haust verzamelen. to Hug, b. w. omhelzen, omarmen. Huge, bv. gedrogtelijk, - groot. 2807 Húman, bv. menfchelijk; a human ► creature, een mensch; a human voice, eene menfchelijke ftem. | Humáne, bv. menschlievend, vriem | delijk. 2) de Humanity, z. de menschheid, het menfchelijk geflacht menschlievendheid. Humble, bv. nederig, onderda- nig; your most humble servant, uw onderdanige dienaar. to Humble, b. w. vernederen. Humbly, bw. nederig. Humility, z. nederigheid. Humour, z. luim; in good hu- mour, in een goeden laim. san Hundred, bv. honderd. Hanter, z. de jager ; a hunter's pouch, eene wijtasch, jagtbosch. Hunting z. hes jagen, de jagt; on this day he did not go a hunting, op dezen dag ging hij niet op de jagt. Huntsman, z. een jager. Hurricane, z. cen orkaan, hevige Storm. to Hurry, o. w. zich houston, zich speeden. Hurry, z. de haast, overhaasting, to Hurt, b. w. beſchadigen, beo zeren, kwetfen; it was not in the least hurt, het was geheel onbeschadigd. Hurt, z. ſchade, nadeel, kweifings Hurtful, bv. ſchadelijk, nadcelig. Flùsband, z. de echtgenoot, man, gemaal; her deceased husband, haar overleden man, 2) huis- vader; as a good husband, air een goods huisvader. Husbandman, z. landman. Husbandry, z. de landbouw. Hash! (tusfchenw.) til! to Flush, b. w. fillen, the storm was hushed, de Form had zich gelegd. Hush, z. de fchil, de bast. Hut, z. eene hat. Hung, o. t. en dw. van to Hang. Hymn, z. een lofzang, lied; ook Hùnger, z. de honger. Hungry, bv, hongerig. a hymn of praise. Hypochondriack, bv. miltzuchtig. I D Eenige woorden met im on in beginnende de letter D. I, (perfoonl. voornaamw.) ik. Idea, 2. een begrip, eene voor. I D vindt men onder felling, een denkbeeld, eene gedachte § 1 have an idea,, mij ورا dunki, IM 403 IM dunkt, ik meen from an idea, - is de mesning. 1dle, bv. sraag, § las, a) ledig to sit quite idle, ledig zisten. Idleness, Z. Jusheid, 2) de ledig gang. If, (voegw.) indiens 'gnorance, z. de onwetendheid. 'gnorant, bv. onwetend; to be ignorant of a thing, iets niet Wetes. > + I'll, in plaats van I will. Ill, bv. en bw. flecht, boos, 2) krank, zick; to be taken ill, ziek ziju, 3) ill fortune, ongeluk. liness, z. flechtheid, 2) ziekie. Illusion, z. dwaling, verblindheid. Imaginable, bv. bedankelijk. Imaginary, by, horſenſchimmig, ingebeeld. Imagination, z. de verbeelding, inbeciding, 2) een begrip, ce. ne yourftelling. to Imagine, b. w. zich verbool den; it is not to be imagined, men kan zich niet verbeelden', 2) uitvinden. W. to Imbark, embark, b. w. en o. w. infchepen, zich infchepen. co Imbellish, b. w. verfraaijen, fieren. Imbellishment + z. de jing, het fieraad. mense ocean, de onmetelijke ocoaas. Imminent, bv. voor de oogen zwe- vende; an imminent danger, sen dreigend gevaar. Immoderate, bv. onmatig. Immòrtal, bv. onflerfelijk. Immortality, z.de onsterfelijkheid Immoveable, bv. onbewegelijk. to Impair, b. w. verzwakken, so Impart, b. w. mededeelen. kinpatience, z. ongeduld. Impatient, bve ongeduldig. Impatiently, bw. ongeduldiglijk. to Impéde, b. w. verhinderen, ophouden, belemmeren. Impediment, z. hiuderpaal, dernis. hing to lupél, b. w. aandrijven. Imperceptible, bv. onmerkbaar. Imperfect, bv. onvolmaakt. Imperfection, z. de onvolmaakt. heid. Impetuous, bv. onfiuimig. Impetuosity, z. de onstuimigheid, hevigheid. to implant, be w. imprenten, ins planten. Implement, z, het werktuig. Importance, z. de gewigtigheid; to be of importance,gewigtig zijn verfraai-Important, by. gewigtig. to Imbitter, b. w. verbisteren. Imitable, bv. navolgbaar, nayoj- genswaardig. to Imitate, b. w. navolgen, na. doen, namaken, Imitation, z. de navolging. Immédiate, bv. onmiddellijk; for his immédiate use, tot zijn on middellijk gebruik; bw. ter- Bond, oogenblikkelijk. Iamèuse, bv. onmetslijk; the im- T to Impose, b. w. opleggen, be lasten; 2) on one, iemand mis- leiden, bedriegen. Impossibility, z. de onmogelijkheid. Impòssible, bv. onmogelijk, Impossibly, bw. onmogelijk. Impostor, z. een bedrieger. Imposture, z. het bedrag. Impression, z. de indruk; it made a deep impression on his heart. Improbable, bv. onwaarſchijnlijk. Impr.per, bv. onyoegzaam, onbe- tamelijk. Ak 4 to 404 IN IN to Improve, b. w. verbeteren, 2)} Inclòiure, exclósure, z, de om o. w. zich beteren, vorderen; to improve in some art, in cor nige kunst vorderingen maken. Improvement, z - de verbetering, vordering. heining. to Include, by w. inhouden, ber vätten. · to Insòmmodase, b. w. bezwaars lijk vallen. Imprudence, 2. de onvoorzig-~| Incomprehènsible, bv. onbegrijo' sigheid. Imprúdent, bv. onvoorzigtig.” Impulse, z. de aandrang. Iu, vz. (ter aanduiding van tijd, plaats en toeft and); in the coun- try, op het land, buiten; in doing nothing - met `niets te doen; in the daytime, bij dags in body, ligchamelijk; in all likelihood, naar alle waars fchijnlijkheid. : In, bw. while his hand was in, zw hij er eens was; to come in, to get in, inkomen. pelijk. · Inconsideracy, z. ogbezonnenheid.- Inconsiderate, z. onbedacht, on- bezonnen; an inconsiderate be- haviour, een onbezónnen gedrag. Inconsistent, bv. onbefizanboar on overeenkomftig, van dour: ongerijmd, inconsistent with reason,onbeftaanbaar met de rede Inconsolable, bv. ontroossbaar. Inconstancy, z. onbestendigheid, onftandvastigheid; inconstancy of human heart, de wankelmor- digheid van he's menfchelijk harm -- ro Indble, b. w. in Raat Bellen, Inconvénience, inconveniency, z. bekwaam maken, Idrosive, bv. werkoloos. * Inadvertently, bw. onachtzaam; onbedacht. Iacápable, bv. ozbekwaami Incapacity, z. onbekwaamheid. Incèssant, bv. snophoudelijk, on- afgebroken. Iacèssandy, bw. zonder ophouden. Inch, z. duim, het twaalfde ge- deelte van een voet; four in four in ches above waterį vier duim bo- vom water. Incident, z. het toeval. Inclemency, z ruwheid; • of the weather, de guurheid van het weder. Inclination, z. de neiging ; — to travel, de lust tot reizen; to work, de werkzaamheid. so Incline, o. w. genegen zijn, en van daar: bellaisen. moeijelijkheid,bezwaarlijkheid Inconvénient, bv. ongemakkelijký bezwaarlijk. + to Incréase, b. w. vermeerderen, grocter of meer maken, o. w. vormserderen, grooter of meer worden. Incréase, z. de aanwas, vermeera dering. Incredible, bv. ongeloofelijk. Incumbrance Incumbrance, Z. belemmering ; hindernis; freed from their in- cumbrance, van hunnen dwangı bevrijd. * Incurable, bv. ongeneesſelijk, oni heelbaar. Indeed, bw. workelijk in der daad, waarlijk, 2) wel is waar: Indefatigable, bv. onvermoeid; inw defatigable industry, onvermori- de vlijs.. Indefatigably, bw: onvermoeid. Indepèndent, bri onafhankelijk. IN 405 IN Indian, z. de indiaan; bv. indi- aansch. to Indicate, b. w. aantoonen. Indies, z. mv. de indien; east-, oostindien; west, westindien. Indiferent, bv. onverſchillig. Indifference, z. onverfchilligheid; a matter of indifference, sone on- verfchillige zaak. Indalgent, bv. goed, genadig, toegevend. Industrious, bv. vlijtig; an in- dustrious life, een werkzaam leven. Industry, z. vlijt, werkzaamheid. Inèstimable, bv. onschatbaar. Inèvitable, bv. onvermijdelijk. Inexhaustible, bv. onuitputtelijk • Indigence, z. het gebrak, de neod. | Inexpérience, z. de onervarenbeid. druft. Indigent, bv. behoeftig, nood- lijdend. Indignation, z. verontwaardiging, fired with indignation, van ver❤ ontwaardiging blakende, glesi- jende van toora. Inexpérienced, z. onervaren, one dervindingloos. Inexpressible, bv. onuitdrakke- lijk, onuiiſprekelijk; wish in- expressible joy, met onuitsproe kelijke vreugde. Infallible, bv. onfeilbaar. Indispensable, bv. onontbeerlijk; | Infancy, z. de kindsheid. noodzakelijk. Indispensably, bw. onvermijde delijk, onontbeerlijk, noodze- kelijker wijze. Indisposed, bv. ongefteld, onpas- felijk. Individual, z. eeno enkele zaak of perfoon, een individa. Indolence, a craagheid, zorge. loosheid, luiheid. Indolent, bv. traag, zorgeloos. to Indúce, b. w. bewegen, over- halen, aansporen, verleidės. to Indulge, b. w. toegeven; to indulge one's gratitude, zijne dankbaarheid gehoor geven, vrijen loop laten; to indulge One's self, zijn eigen zin of fmaak volgen; to indulge a thought, eene gedachte koeste- ren; to indulge one's joy, zij- ne vreugde ruimen teugel viem ren.. . Indulgence, z. teederheid, reege negen, 2) toegenegenheid om arent gebreken van anderen. the Infant, bv. jong, kindsch. to lnfèct, b. w. aanfieken; air, de lucht verpesten. to Infeeble, enfeeble, b. w. ver. zwakken. J to Infèr, b. w. befluiten, opmaken. loférior, bv. lager van plaats, minder van waardigheid, gen ringer van ivestone goue was 13 férior to him in knowledge, hij was in kunde verre beneden hem. Inferior, 2. cez mindere, onder- geſchikte. Infidelity, z. de ongetrouwheid, trouweloosheid. Infinite, bv. oneindig. Infinitely, bw. oneindiglijk ; in. finitely more wise, oneindig wijzer. Infirmity, z. zwakte, ziekte. Inflamed, bv. en dw. ontvlamd, aangevuurd. Influence, z. de invloed. to Inform, b. w. 10- of a thing, berigt wegens iets geven; of this I was also informed, hier van kreeg ik ook berigt. KES tQ 406 IN IN to Infringe, b. w. kreuken, kwet. ( Iusènsible, bv. gevoelloas, onge- fen, inbreuk maken. voelig. to Infuse, b. w. inprenten, in- Insensibility, z. ongevoeligheid. ftorten, ingeven. Ingenuity, z. ſcherpzinnigheid, 2) openhartigheid. Ingratitude, z. de ondankbaarheid. 2 to lubabit, bo w. bewonen; if the island was inhabited, indien het' eiland bewoond was. Inhabitant, z. de inwoner. Inhúman, bv. onmenschelijk,bar. bearsch. 4 Inhumanity, z, de onmenschelijk. heid, wreedhoid. Initial, bv. aanvankelijk, o01- Spronkelijk; initial ideas, oor. Spronkelijke denkbeelden. Injury, z. de beleediging, ſmosd, hoon, het ourigte Ink, z. de inkt. to Inlist, enlist, b. w. aanwer- ven; he got himself inlisted, ¦ hij liet zich aanwerven, (nam dienst), Inmóst, bv. het binnenfte; from the inmost of his heart, wit grond van zijn hart; with inmost plea- sure, met hartelijke blijdschap. Innáte, bv. aangeboren. Inner, bv. inwendig. Innocence, z. de onfchald. Innocent, bv. onfchuldig. Innoxious, bv. enfchadelijk. Innumerable, bv. ontelbaar. Innumerous, bv. niet talrijk, A ook ontelbaar.: to Inoculate, bw. inensen. to Luquire, enquire, b. we naar iets vragen, vernomon, Inquiry, z. navraag. Inscription, z. het opschrift. Insect, za het infekt, gekoryen diertje. • Insensibly, bw: ongevoeliglijk. to Insert, b. w. invoegen. Insider, z. de binnenzijde, het' binnenße ; the inside of the wall, de binnenkant van don muar, 2) het ingewand. Insignificant, bv. onbeduidend. Insipid, bv. laf, fmakeloos. Insolvent, bv. insolvent, niet in ftaat om zijne fchulden te be- talen. to Inspire, b. w. inblazon, in• Prenten. Instance, Zi een dringend``` ver· zoek, 2) voorbeeld; for instan·· ce, bij voorbeeld. Instant, bv. oogenblikkelijk. Instant, z. een oogenblik. Instantly, bw. oogenblikkelijk, Instead, vz. in plaats; (mes of Jo' to Instill, b. w. inprenten. Iusticútion, z. cene inrigsing. to Instruct, b. w. onderrigten, onderwijzen; he did not like to be instructed, hij wilde nies gaarne onderrigt zijn. Instruction, 2. het onderwijs, 2) het voorschrift. * Instructive, bv. leergpam, lista rijk; an instructive conversa❤~ tion een leerrijk geſprek. Instructor, z. de onderwijzer. Instrument, z. het werktuig. Instrumental, bv. dienftig, 680 hulpzaam. Insupportable, bv. onverdragelijk Intelligible, bv. verstaanbaar begrijpelijk, duidelijk. to Intènd, b. w.voornemens zijnz to intend a work, eenig werk voornemens zijn te doen; to intend some mischief to one, yoor ΙΝ 407 1 V voornemens zijn iemand te kwellen. .to تر Intention, z. het voornemen. 10 Intercéde, o. w. bemiddelen tusfchenfpreken, voorfpreken ; with heaven for him, den hemel voor hem bidden. Interest, zhes voordeel;het welzijn Interesting, bv. belangrijk. Interim, 2. in the interim, in den tusfchentijd; 1) bw. ondertus- fchen, intusfchen. Intermédiate, bv. sasfcher; space, tusfchenruimie. Intermission, z. opschorting, of breking, ophouden; without any intermission, zonder verpoozing. to Interpose, b. w. bomiddelen. Latèrpreter, 2. de tolk, vertaler. to luterràpt, b..w. afbreken, in de rede vallen. 1 Interview, z. een mondgesprek. to Interweave, b. w. doorwEDEN, doorvlechten; which he inter- weave with branches, welke hij met takken doorvlocht. Intimate, bv. vertrouwd. to Intimate, b. w. aanduiden; she intimated by signs, zij gaf door teskenen te kennen. Intire, bv. geheel, gansch. Intirely, bw. geheellijk. to Intitle, entitle, b. w. regt ge= ven, geregtigen. Into, vz. in, op de vraag waar- heen? in. Intòlerable, bv. onverdragelijk. Intolerably, bw. onverdragelijki Intréaty, z. fmeking, bede; zie Entreaty. Intrlasick, bv. wezenlijk, inner- lijk; the intrinsick value, dé wezenlijke waarde. J to Intrust, b.w. toevertrouwen. Inundation, z. de overftrooming. to lovade, b. w. verheeren, ver» woesten, aanpasion; the island was invaded, het eiland werd aangevallen. Invaluable, bv. onschatbaar. | to Invèng, b. w. uitvinden. Inventer, inventor, z. de | vinder. : Invèation, z. de uitvinding. Javentor, zio Inventer. Inventary, z. lijst, inventaris. Investigation, z. onderzoek. Invisible, bv. ozzigtbaar. Invitation, z. uitnoodiging. to Invite., b. w. uitnoodigen. Inward, bv. inwendig. Invòlve, b. w. inwikkelen; — in dificulties, in mooijelijkheden wikkelen. J 1 Iron, z. ijzer; mv. de ketenen, bocijen; to be put in irons, in ketenen gesloten worden. Iron bar, z. ceno ijzeren fang. Irregular, bv. onregelmatig, ver= ward. Irresistible, bv. onwederftaan- baar. Irrèsolute, bv. besluiteloos. Is, (do 3 perfoon, enkelvoud van den tegenw. tijd van to Be, zijn) is. Island, z. het eiland. Issue, z. het gevolg, einde, do uitflag. to Issue, o. w. ten gevolgen heb- ben, uitloopen, aitylosijen ; a burning matter issued, Bone brandende foffe vloeide er uit. It, (voornaamw.) het, hetzelve. Itself, (voornaamw.) zelf, zich zelven, impossible in itself, in zich zelven onmogelijk. to Introduce, b. w. invoeren op eeno plaats, 2) in het gefprek | Ivory, z. het.ešponbicu, ivoor. to pas brengen. J. JA JU Jack (eigen naam), Jakob. Jacket, z. ean wambuis, buis. Japanése, bv. japausch, Z. ean japaneos. Jaws, z. mv. de kinnebakken. Jénny (eigen naam), Jansje. to Judge, b. w. regten, oordeel vellow, beflisfen, 2) beoordelen. Judgement, z. het geregs, inzon derheid het goddelijk geregt, 2) oordeel, overweging; a sound judgement, een gezond cordsei. Jewel, z. een juweel, edelge-Jug, Z. eene kan, kroeg, kruik; fteente. to John (eig. naam), Johanneso hoo Join, b. w. bijvoegen, 2) voru binden, vereenigen, 3) o. w. zich bij iemand begeven; join his master, bij zijnen mees" ter komen, 4) helpen; to join in another's work, iemand in zijn werk behulpzaam zijn. Joiner, z. een timmerman, ſchrijn-| werker. Jóking, z. de fcherts; there would have been no joking, het zoude geene feherts geweest zijn. Journey, z. de reis, dagreis, 2) eone reis te land, (voyage is cene reis ter zee). Joy, z. vreugde. Joyful, bv. verblijd, vrolijk. Joyfully, bw. verblijd, vrolijk. Judge, z. de regter. | an earthen jug, een aarden kan. Juggler, z. een goochelaar, be drieger. Juice, z. het fap van planten. Juicy, bv. Sappig. to Jump, o. w. Springen, hup. pelen. Jump, z. de fprong. Just, bv. juist, 2)regtvaardig. Just, bw. juist, even als; just now, 200 even. Justice, z. de regtvaardigheids to do justice, geregtigheid la- ten wedervares, 2 2) het geregt, de justitie. Justly, bw.regtvaardiglijk; thou dealest justly with me, gij han. delt regtyaardig met mij. to Jat, o. w. uitſteken ; a stone jutting out, een vooruitstekende fleen. KE KE volharden; to keep at a place, op eens plaats blijven ftaan ; it would keep good, het zoude goed blijven; to keep close to a thing, zich bij uitfluiting met iers bezig houden. Kéeping, z. de bewaring. Kèpt, o. t. en dw. van to Keep. Kernel, z. de kern van vruchten, RO Kdep, b. w. houden; to keep pace, den pas houden, 2) ber houden, onderhouden; to keep a fire, een vuur onderhouden; to keep from, onthouden, be- holden; to keep up, ophouden; onderhouden, in ftand houden; to keep near the shore, langs hot frand houden; to keep to a resolution, bij een befluit | Key, z, fleutel; f. this is the key Of ΚΙ 409 KR of that conduct, dit is de ver- ¡ Kitchen, z. de keuken. klaring van dat gedrag. to Kick, b. w.met den voet fchop- pen. Kick, z. een schop met den voet. Kid, z. een jong geitje. to Kill, b. w. dooden, vermoor" - den, ombrengen, 2) flagten. Kila z een oven; a lime-kiln, sen kalkoven. Kind, z. het geflacht; mankind, het menfchelijk geflacht, £) de aard, feors; a kind of fruit, eenc foort van vracht, 3) de aard en de wijze; in that kind, op die wijze. Kind, bv. vriendelijk, goedaardig. to Kindle, b. w. aanfteken, aan- branden. Kindly, bw. vriendelijk; bv. mild; a kindly beam, eens mil· de ftraal. Kindness, 2. vriendelijkheid, goedheid. King, z. de koning. Kingdom, z. het koningrijk. to Kiss, b. w. kusfen, zoenen. Klas, z. een zoen, kus. Knack, z. de behendigheid, hand- greep; the right kuàck, de wa re kunstgreep. to Kréad, b. w. kneadem. Kaée, z de knie; he fell on his knees, kij viel op zijne knien. to Kneel, o. W. 0. w. kuielen, meder. knielen. Knew, o. t. van to Kaow. Knife, z. het mes. Knob, z. de keel, bol. to Knock, b. w. flaan, kloppen s to knock down, nederflaan. Knot, z, de knoop. to Knów, o. w. es b. w. weten, 2) kennen. Knowledge, z. kennis, kunde; a great stock of knowledge, eer groote voorraad van kennis, kunde of wetenſchap, 2)·· tea without your parents' know- ledge, buiten weten van awe ouders. Knówn, dw. vas to Know. Knuckle, z. de kneakel. Kracking, zie Cracking, het kroe kev. LA LA jongen! 2) een jongeling. Laborious, bv. werkzaam, ar- Làd, z. de knaap; my lad, lisve beidzaam. Labóriousness, z. werkzaamheid. Ladder, z. de ladder, leer; a Lábout, z. de arbeid. to Labour, b. w. arbeiden, werken. | rope ladder, een touwladder, Scheepsladder. labourer, 2. een arbeider, dag- | Láden, dw. belades. loonar. Lace, z. de fnoer, het koord, de valftrik. Lády, Z. mevrOUW vrouwi Laid, dw. yan to Lay. adelijke to Láce, b. w.fnoereu, toefroeren. | Láin, dw, van to Lie, to lye. Laced, bv. geboord; a laced hat, Lake, het meer, de kloine een geboorde hood. z. Kee LI Lama, 410 LE LA Lama, z. het lama, fchaapkameel. to Lamènt, b. w. beklagen, o.w. klagen. Lamentable, bv. beklagenswaard; lamentable looks, voice, klage. Jijk uitzigt, klagende ſtem. Lamentably, bw. op eene klage. lijke wijze. Lamentation, z. klagt. Lamp, z. de lamp. to Lind, o. w. landen, aan land gaan. Landing, z. het landen, do lan- ding. Language, z. de taal; his own language, zijne eigen taal. 0 Lànguish, kwijnen. • w. fnachten, Lanthorn, lantern, z. de laniaren. Large, bv. groot, (ligchamelijk | groot). Last, bv. laatst ; last night, ver- leden nacht, gister avond ; at last, eindelijk. Last, bw. verleden, voor korten tijd, onlangs. to Last, o. w. duren. o. w. lagchen ; at, over, om iets. Laughter, (uitgefpr. als loafter), z. het lagchen. to Launch, b. w. van stapel las ten loopen; to launch a vessel, een ſchip Law, z. de wet. Lawful, by. wettig, regtmatig. Lay, o. van to Lye. to Lay, b. w. leggen; to lay hold. de hand aanßaan, vetten, rij. pen; to lay in provisions, voor™ raad inloggen. Láy, z, een lied; a morning lay, + een morgonzang. Layer, z. eene laag, rij; a brick- layer, een metfelaar. Laziness, z laiheid. Lázy, bv. lui, troag. to Lead, b. w. leiden; to lead a spring, eene bron leiden. Léader, z. een aanvoerer, leeraar. Loaf, z. hes blad; he tremb ed like an aspen leaf, hij beefde als een riet, (eigenlijk als een populierblad). Lastly, bw. ten laatfte, lastfle | Léogue, z ecne zsemijl, eene mijl. lijk, 2) onlangs. Late, bv. voormalig, 2) laatst, jongss; his late misfortunes, zij- ne jongfte ongelukken. Lite, bw. last, 2) onlangs, ook: of late. Lately, bv. laatst, onlangs; it was but lately, het is nog niet lang geleden. Làth, z. de lat. ! i Léak, z. het lok, de fcheur; the ship had sprung a leak, het Schip had een lek gekregen. to Léan, o. w. leunen; to lean one's back, met don rug leu- nen, 2) zich onderſteunen. to Leap, o. w. huppelen, ſpringen. Léap, z. de fprong. to Learn, b. en o w. leeren, 2) vernemen, ervaren, zien. Latin, z. het latijn, de latijn-Learning, z. het leeren; diligent fche taal; bv. latijnsch; the in learning, leerzaam, 2) de ge- latin tongue, de latijnfche taal. leerdheid; be applied colearning, Latter, bv. vergelijkende trap hij wilde geleerd worden, hij van late, later. legde zich toe op wetenſchappes. Làva, z. da lava. Least, (overtr. trap van little), Laudable, by. loffelijk, het, de kleinfte, 2) ket gering- to Làugh, (uitgeſpr. als laaf), ste, LE 4TB LI fe, het minfe; the least noise, het minste geraas. Léast, bw. ten minfte; at least. Leather, z. het leer; a leathern glove, een leeren handſchoen. Léave, z. verlof, toeftemming, 2) het affcheid; to take leave, affcheid nemen. to Leave, b. w. laten, verla- ook ten, 2) ophouden, leave off. to Lè't, dw. ex o. t. van to Leave. Left, bv. linker; the left hand, de linker hand, Leg, z. het boen (van de heup tot aan den voer), Lègged, bv. two legged, twee- beenig. Légion, z. het legioen, eigenlijk 5000 man, elke groote troep of bende. Leisure, z. ledige tijd; in lei- sure hours, in verlorene oogen- blikken; 2) gemak; at his lei sure, op zijn gemak. Lèmon, z. de ftroen, de limoen. Lèmonjuice, z. het fitreenfap. Lèmontree, z. de fitroenboom. to Lend, b. w.leenen, voorfchie- rem; to lend money, geld voor- fchieten; 2) to lend assistance, hulp bieden. Lèngth, z. de lengte at full length, in de volle lengte, 2) duur ; the months are not all of equal length, de maanden zijn niet allen even lang; 3) at length, eindelijk, ten laatfte. to Lèngthen, b. w. verlengen, langer maken. lènt, o. t. ɛn dw. van to Lend. Lèss, (vergel. trap van little), bv. Fleiner, minder. to Lessen, b. w. verminderen, kleiner maken; 2) 0. w. klei. ser worden. Lerson, z. de les; in your geo- graphical lessons, in awe aarde rijkskundige lesſen, 2) voo7- fchrift, raad; he gave him many good lessons into the bar. gain, hij gaf hem daarenboven verfcheidene goede lesfen. Lèst, (voegw.) op dat niet; less he fall, op dat hij niet valle, uit vrees dat hij megt valles to Lèt, b. w. laten; let us sit down, leat ons gaan zitten; let us have it all, laat het ons geheel hebben, (in deze exi foortgelijke ſpreekwijzen vorms het de gebiedende wijs); 2) 108- laten, torgiven; my parents: will not let me go, mijne ow-- ders willen mij niet laten gaan.- Lètter, z. brief Lèituce, z. ſalade, latuw, latouw. Lèvel, bv. vlak, effen, gelijk. Lèvel, z. een waterpas „›(metſe- laars werktuig). to Lèvel, b. w. gelijk of effen maken; 2) to level a cannon, een kanon rigtem • • Lèven, leaven, z. zuurdeeg.- Lèver, z. den hefboom. Lévity, z. ligtzinnigheid. Liable, bv. blootgesteld, ondère· worpen; liable to be spoiled, aan bederving onderhevig, bas dorven kunnen wordes.. Liar, z. een leugenaar. Liberal; bv. the liberal arts, vrije kunften. .. Taberty, z. de vrijheid; to sets at liberty, op vrije voeter flol- len, vrij later; liberty of con solence, vrijheid van het gam weten. Library, z. boekverzamelings- to Lick, b. w. likken, lekk£9- Lié, z. hes loog.. La 1.2. . 412 LI LI to Lié, zie to Lye. Life, z. het leves; for his life, voor zijn leven, zoo lief als hij het leven had; the life to come, het toekomende leven. Lifeless, bv. levenloos, dood. to Lift, b. w. opheffen, verheffen. Ligature, z. het verband, de band. Light, bv. ligt, niet zwaar. Eight, bv. licht, niet donker. Light, z. het licht. to Light, b. w. b. w. aanfteken ; fire, a candle. to Lighten, b. w. verligten; in order to lighten the ship, om het fchip ligter te maken. to Lighten, o. w. weerlichten, bliksemen. Lightning, z. de bliksem, het wserlicht; a flash of lightning, eene bliksemstraal. Like, bv. gelijk, gelijkend; like this Crusoe, gelijk dezen Cru- foe like our Elbe, gelijk onze Elbe; the like of which he had never beard, waarvan hij nooit de weergade gehoord had; and the like, en dergelijken, 2) hijn, met to Be cn to Have; he was like, he had like to fall, hij was bijna gevallen. Like, bw. op gelijke wijze. to Like, b. w. in iets behagen vinden; I like too see it, ik zoude het gaarne zien; Iden': 3ike this R, ik mag dien R. ziet lijden; how do you like the bath, hoe bevalt uket bad? I should like, ik wenschte. Likelihood, z. waarschijnlijk- heid; in all likelihood, naar alle waarschijnlijkheid. Likely, bv. en ow.waarſchijnlijk. Likewise, bw. insgelijks, op gen lijke wijze. Liking, z. de neiging, lust, zin; he bad no liking to it, hij had er geen zin in. Limb, z. hes lid, (van een lig· chaam). Lime, z. de kalk; shaked lime, gebluschte kalk. Lime-kiln, z. een kalkoven. Lime-stone, z. de kalksteen. to Limit, b. w. b. w. bepalen, beper. ken; he limits grief, hij zet pa len aan de droefheid. Limitation, z. beperking, grenzen. Limon, zie Lemon, en volzz. Line, z. eene liju, regel, 2) con koord of fnoer, 3) de linie, de equator. Linea, bv. van linnen, z. het linnen; clean linen, fchoon lin nengoed. Linenweaver, z. een linnenwever. Linseed, lueseed, z. koolzaad, lijnzaad. Lion, z. de leeuw. Lip, z. de lip. Liquor, & het vocht, gedisteleer de drank, ſterke drank. Lisbon, z. Lissabon, de hoofd- fad van Portugal. to Listen, o. w. luisteren, toe- hooren. Literally, bw. letterlijk. Literary, bv. letterkundig, ge· leerd. Literary elements, z. mv. letter kundige grondbeginselen. Little, bv. klein; little folks, kin deren, 2) weinig. + Little, bw. weinig; by little and little, langzamerhand; be little thought, hij was ver van te denken. to Live, o. w. lever, 2) wonen; where Mr. Cl. lives, waar de heer Cl. woons; 3) to live on, • vit. LO 413 LO van leven, zijn leven van on- derhouden, zich voeden met ; 4) b. w. doorleven; he lived | three whole years, one day like the other. Livelihood, livelyhood, z. het be- faan, onderhoud; to get an ho nest livelihood, zich een corlijk beftaan verfchaffer. Liveliness, z. levendigheid, vro- lijkheid. Lively, bv. en bw: levendig, op- gewekt; imagination, eensvu” rige verbeeldingskracht. Lives, mv. van life, het leven. Living, dw. van to Live; a living- creature, een levendig fchepfel, 2) mv. de levenden. • Living, z. het leven, het levens" onderhoud, beftaan. Lo! (tusfchenw.) kijk!! Load, z. de last, vracht. to Lóad, b. w. laden, beladen; - 2) - a gun, een geweer laden. Loading, z. de lading; there was ro ship in loading, er lag geen fchip in lading. Lladstone, z. de zeilfteen, mag- nest. Loaf, z. het (geheele) brood: Loath, bv. afkeerig. to Luath, b. w en o. w. walgen; | afkeerig zijn; you loath, a meat, gij walgt van een geregt. Loathsome, bv. walgelijk, af fchuwelijk. Loaves, mv..van Loaf Lock, z. een flot. to Lock, b. w. fluiten; to lock up, wegfluiten. o Lodge, b. w. herbergen, huis- vessen, 2) op eene plaats zijn; where the heart is lodged, waar het hart is.. Edging, z de woning, het ver- an blijf, 3) het nachtverblijf bie first night's lodging. Lofty, bv. hoog; a lofty mountain, een hooge berg.. Logwood, z. het campechshout, Brazilienhout; the logwood- tree, de: boom van hetzelfde, hout.. Loin, z. het lenden, of nierfiat van een geflacht dier. to Loiter, o. w. ledig loopen,- flenteren; he was loitering about the port, hij fenterde langs de haven. Lonesome zonderd. ༡་ bvi senxaem, afge› Long, bv. en bw. lang, uitges firekt, 2) lang yan sijdy z long while een lange tijdg long since, lang geleden. to Long, o.we verlangen, raik- halzen; I long, ie verläng (mes for en after), he longed for rest, hij verlangde naer rust; he longed for new scenes,, hij verlangde naar misuweta os neeles. Longing, z. het verlanger, hat reikhalzen; bv; en dw. lon- ging eyes, verlangende oogen^g» Smachtende oogen.- to Loók, o. w.kijken, (wan het voorwerp nabij is, bezigs man on eat, wanneer het af-- wezig is, for; en wanneer dise verwijderd is, after; ih se beto de laatfte beteekenisfen werde het werkwoord gemeenlijk vor- taald door: zesken; wĆ VRIE looking for some pebbels, wij zochten keifteentjes); 2) it looks so fine, het zien er zao fissi uit. Look, (tusfchenw.) zić! kijkti- genl.de gebied,wijs van to Look L.1 S Lookane 414 LU L.O Look, z. een blik, oogopslag ;; mv. de gebaren. Looking-glass, z. een spiegel. Löòm, z. de woversfiocl. duister zijn; thundercloudsthae- lower, zwarte donderwalkan. Luck, z. een teeval; good luck, een gelukkig toeval. Loose, z, de vrijheid; bva los, | Luckily, bw. gelukkig, bij geluk. in vrijheid. to Loosen, b. w. openen, losma, ken, oplossen. Lòrd, z. de opperheer, de keer. to Lóse, b. w. verliezen. * Lost, ze het verlies; 2) to be at á loss, verlegen ziju. Lost, dw. en o. t. van to Lose. Loid, bv. en bw. luid, ¡uid- keels, overluid. to Lour, zie to Lower. to Love, b. w beminnen. Love, z. liefde. Loving, dw. liefderijks Low, bv. en bw. laag, 2) on- diep; low water, de ebbe, 3) onderst; the lower part, hes on- derfte gedeelte. to Lower, lowr, lour, o. w. Lucky, bv. gelukkig. to Lull, o. en b. w. in ſlaapwie. gen; who lalled my mind? wie felde mijnen geest gerust ?· Lump, z. en klomp ; lump of gold, een goudklomp. to Lurk, o. w. verborgen ligger Iseren; to lurk in the dark, ie het donker rondsluipen. Lustre, zioen fchijn, eene fchs mering. ſche Luxúriauce, luxuriancy, z. overv vloed, overdaad. Luxúriantly, bw, overdadig, o vervloedig, weelderig. Luxurious., bv. overdadig, zweł, gend. Luxury, Z. overdaad, weelde z. 4. zwolgarij. to Ly, lie, o, w. liggen.. MA Mad, bv. onzinnig, ziuneloos. Máde, dw. en o. t. van to Make. Madman, 2. een kraøkzinnige, dolleman. MA Majesty, z. majesteit, de hoogfis- waardigheid en magt, de titel aan monarchen gegevon; his majesty, Z. M.· Magazine, z. een voorraadhuis, Máin, bv. ket voornaamfte, groot. magazijn. # Magnànimous, bv. grootmoedig. Magnètick, bv. the magnetick needle, de magneetnaald. Magnificent, bv. prachtig. Máid, z. de meid; dairy maid, melkmeid ; servant maid, dienst- meid. Majèstick, bv. majestueus.. fte; the main sea, de hooge zieg z. the main, het vaste land, ook the main land. Main mast, z. de groote mast, to Maintáin, b. w. onderhouden. in ftand houden, handhaves. Maize, 2. tarksch köorn. to Make, b. w. maken; to make haste, zich haasten, ſpoeden ş to MA 415. MA · ent- to make one's prayers, lidden; to make a journey, cene reis deen; to make an escape, Snappen; to make all sails, atle zeilen bijzetten; to make ship- wreek, fchipbreak lijdon, 2) in den zeevaart beteekent to make, can cene plaats komen; they made the mouth of the Thames, zij bereikten den mond van de Tooms; to make the nearest land, het naaste land bereiken; to make the shore, het land naderen; 3) he made him suffer, hij deed hem lij den; 4) . w. to make up to one, op iemand aangaan, hem noderen; to make up to a ship, een ſchip naderen; ook to make towards a ship. - Making, z. het maken, maakſel´; an umbrella of his own making, een regenfcherm van ziju ei- gen maakſel: Mauner, z. de wijze, manier ; iBa the same manner, op dezelfde wij ze in such a manner, zoodanig. Many, bv. vele. -- : z. een aantal; a great Mauy, z. cen aantal; many of them, velen hunner, een groot aantal van hun. Many times, bw. dikwijls. Map, z. de landkaart zeekaart, beteekent ook seaman.. March, 2. de marsch, de togt, optogr. > zeekaares to March, to march off, o. W. marå. fcheren, aftrekken. Mariner, z. zeeman, matroos. to Mark, b. w. merken, tocke» ren, aanteekenens. Mark, z. con tecken. Macket, z. le markt. Marmotto, marmot, z. het mor meldier. Martial, bv. krijgszuchtig; mar→ tial exercises, krijgsoefeninges. Marvellous, bv. wonderbaar. Mash, mesh, z de malio. Mask, z het mom, masker. Mass, z. de massa; to stir the- mass, de massa omroeren. Malicious, bv. boosaardig Mallet, z. een groo c zware hamer. Mas, z. de mensch, 2) een man, 3) een schip; a merchant man, een koopvaarder, koopvaardija Mist, z. de mastboom, de mast. Schip; a man of war, een oor. logfchip. to Manage, b. w. vooren, beftu- ren; to manage a boat, eene boot befaren. Management, z. de bewerking ; the management of the fields, de akkerbouw. Man eater. z. een menscheneter. to Mangle, b. w. verfcheuren, verminker. Manifold, bv, menigvældig. Mankind, z. het menschdom. Manly, bv. mannelijk, Berk; a manly resolution, een vast be flair; he behaved manly, hijge. droeg zich braaf. | Master, z. de heer; her master and mistress, haar heer en vrouw, 2) de meester, 3) de kapitein van een schip. to Master, b. w. zich (van esne zaak) meester maken, 2) b6. heerfchen: Mat, z. cene mat; a bass mat, eene bast wat. na March', z Màtch, z een zwavelſtok, 2) cε= no lont he clapt the burning match to the touchhole, hij bragt de brandende lont sar het zondgat, 3) de pit vaBILI ne lamp. Match, z. een wedſtrijdę L14 416 ME ME to Mátch, b. w. geliik zijn; to match one in swimming, even 200 goed zwemmen als een ander. Máce, z. de ftaurman; the first mate, de eorfe faurman: Blatérial, bv. wezenlijk. Materials, z. mv. bouwflofen, bes noodigdheden; materials for wri- ting, fchrijfgereedſchap. Mátrass, mattrasa, z. eene matras. Matter, z. de feffe; the melted matter, de gefoltene Aoffe, 2) het voorwerp; on this matter, over dit onderwerp; what's the matter, wat is het? he made it a matter of conscience, hij maak- to er ecke gewetenszaak van ; it is no matter of doubt, het lijät goen twijfel; what was the mat- ter with him? wat hem ſchorties Matúrely, bw. rijpelijk, matúre, ly considered, rijpelijk over- woges [ Màxim, z. eene grondfelling. Máy, I may, (onvoll, werkw.) ik words aangemerkt; by this means, by that means, door dit dat middel; by means of, door middel van; by all means, 01 getwijfeld; by no means, het geheel niet. in to Aléan, b. w. denken, meenen; what do you mean? wat meent gij? 2) bedoelen, meenen. Méaning, z. de meening, botes.. kenis; what is the meaning of that, wat betekent dat? 2) het voornemen, de gezindheid. Measure, z. de maat dė maat; in some measure, eenigermate, 2) mv. maatregelen ; to take measures, maatregelen nemen. Méat, z. vleesch (voor pijs), roast meat, gebraad, 2) Spijs in het algemeen. Mechanick, bv. werktuigelijk, 2) Z. een handwerker, am- bachtsman. • Mèdicine, z. geneesmiddel; by proper medicines, door gepaste middelen. mag, 2) ik kan, met opzigt | Medication, z: overdenking. eenigen voorafgegevenen fot เ raad of wensch, de vrijheid en magt om iets te doen, you may begin, gij kuns beginnen; you may easily think, gij kunt ligt begrijpen, may be, "t kan zijn, misſchien, 3) als hulp. werkw.om de bijvoeg. wijze se yormen: it was probable there might be more good children, waarschijnlijk kondan er meer goede kinderen zijn, 4) om co• nen wensch te uiten. + Me, (perfoonl. voornaamw.)`mijï Méal, z. het maal, de maaltijd. Méan, bv. laag, gemeen, Méan, z. het middel, meest in Meekness, z. de zachtmoedigheid.. to Meet, b. w. ontmoeten; to meet one, iemand, 2) 0. w.. met with, aantreffen; he met with one of his comrades, hij vond een” zijner kameraden; to meet an adventure, een avis- aur bojegonen. Meeting, z de verzameling, ver gadering, bijeenkomst. Melancholy, bv. treurig, dros- vig, zwaarmoedig. to Mélt, b. w. b. w. ſmelien; melted matter, gesmoltene masfa. Member, z. het lid, 2) medelids Mémorable, bv. denkwaardig ». merkwaardig. het meerv. herwelk als enkelv. 1. Memórial, z, een gedenktooken. Me~ MI- 4:7 ΜΙ Memory, z. het geheugen, 2) de gedachtenis. Men, mv. van Man. ་ to Mend, b. w. verbeteren, ber fer maken, 2) onz. w. beter worden. Mèntal, bv. verftandelijk; mental faculties > vermogens. to Mèntion, b. w. melden, gewa- gen; above-mentioned, Boven- gemeld. Mèrchant, z. cen koopman. Mèrchan.man, z. een koopvaardij- Schip. Mèrciful, bv. barmhartig, ge- nadig. Mercy, z. genade, ontferming; heaven, have mency upon us hemel, ontferm u onzer! Mere, bv. enkel, louter; mere goodness, niets dan goedheid, louter genade. Mérely, bw. enkel, alleenlijk, flechts. Mèrit, z. verdienfte. to Merit, b. w. verdienen. Mertićrious, bv. verdienfelijk. Mèrry, bv. vrolijk, luidrychtig, opgeruimd, 2) grappig.. Mèssenger, z. cen bode. Met, o. t. en dw van to Meet. Métal, z. metaal, bergstof, delfftof. Method, z. de leerwijze, maniër, orde, inrigting. Mèxican, by Mexikaansch. Middle, bv. en bw. middenst, in het midden zijnde, midden. Middle, z. het midden, het mid- delfe gedeelte. Midnight, z. de middernacht. Midst, z. het midden ; in the midst of, te midden van. Might, o. t. van to May, Might, z. de magt, kracht; with all might, uit alle magt. Mighty, bv. magtig, ferk. Mid, bv. mild, liefderijk, 2) zachtmoedig; with a mild voice,. mcreene zachte, liefelijke ftem. Mildly, bw. zachtmoediglijk. Mildness, z. zachtmoedigheid. Military, bv. foldaats, oorlogs, krijgs; the military life, het foldaten leven, de foldaten- fand. Milk, z. de melk. to Milk, b. w. melken. - Mill, z. de molen; the windmill', de windmolen; a haudmill, een handmolen. Miller, z. de molenaar; the mil- ler's boy, de knecht van den ~. Million, z. eene milioen, 2) een groot getal. Mind, z. het gemoed, a) de noi- ging, last, zing, to have. a. mind, last hebben; it went en- tirely to his mind, alles ging naar zijnen zin,2) herinnering; to put in mind, te binnen bren gen, 4) de ziel, 5) de gedach- voorfelling; in his own mind, bij zich zelven, in zij- ne gedachte.. te - to Mlad, b. w. acht geven op acht ſaan op; to mind one's way, op zijnen weg letten; mind: me!. hoor naar mij! 2) zich om iets bekommeren; to mind only one's own pleasures, Aechts op zijn eigen vermaok bedacht zijn; never mind! het is niet met al! daar is niet aan- gelegen! zorg daar niet voor! Mindful, by. gedachtig, 2) op- merkzaam. Mine, (voornaamw. van bezitting), hi 15 het. 418 MO MO het, de mijne; this head of mine, mijn hoofd. Mine, z. eene mijn, groef. Miner, z. een mijnwerker, borg. werker. Miniature, z. in miniature, in het klein. ► Minister, Z. a of state, Staatsdienaar. Minute, z. de minuut. een Minútely bw. naauwkeurig, naauwgezet. Miracle, z. wonderwerk. Miraculous, bv. wonderbear, won- derdadig. Miraculously, bw. wonderbaarlijk. Mirth, z vreugde, vrolijkheid, blijdschap. Miscarriage, z. misflag, mislukking Mischief, z. een ongelak, 2)ſcha- de, nadeel, kwaad. Miserable, bv. ongelukkig, el lendig. Miserably, bw. ongelukkiglijk, jammerlijk. Misery, z. de ellende. Misfortune, Zz het ongeluk.. so Miss, b. w. ontberen mis- fen, vermifen; he missed the salt, hij miste hot zout, a) niet treffen, misfon; be missed the mark, hij misie het doel. Mist, z. de novot. to Mistake, b. w. het eene voor het andere aanzien, mistas ten; be mistook it for, hij zag het aan voor 2) o. w. dwa len, zich vergisfen; ook co be mistaken, mis hebben. Mistake, z. ecme mistasting, ver- gisling. Mistlok, o. t. van to Mistake. Mistress, z. de meestres. to Mix, b. w. vermengen. Moderate, bv. gematigd, 2).b6- fcheiden... | to Moderate, b. w. matigen; to zijne moderate one's grief, droefheid matigen. Moderately, bw. matiglijk. Modest, bv. nederig, zodig, be- Scheiden. Modesty, z. befcheidenheid, 2) zedigheid, fchaamte; one of our R's. principal virtues was modesty, een der hoofddeugden van onzen R. was de zedigheid. Moisture, z. vochtigheid. to Molèst, b. w. kwellen, leed aandoen, ontrusten, lastig vallen. Moment, z. het oogenblik. Monarch, z. de vorst, monarch. Mòney, z. gomunt geld; english money, engelfche munt. Monkey, monky, z. een aap. Monster, Z. een gedrogt. Monstrous, bv. gedrogtolijk, vrees. felijk the same mecstrous wave, dezelfde fchrikkelijke golf. Mouth, z. de maand. Monthly, bv. maandelijkṣck, bw. maandelijks.. • Monument, z. het gedenkreeken. Mood, z. de gemoedsflemming, Inim. 1 Muda, z. de man. Moral, by zedelijk. Morality, z. zedelijkheid, a) des zodekundi. Móre, (vergel. trap van Much),. meer; more time, longer. Móre, bw. mert; (iot vorming yan den overtr. trap van fome. mize bv.) more sensible, gevalo. liger; 2) six guineas more, nog: 6 guineas. More over, bw. daarenboven. Mornin?, 2. de morgen, 110 Pa penflood; the morninglight, het sorgenlicht. Mor- MO 419 : MU Morrow, z. de dag van morgen; ! bw. to-morrow, morgen; to morrow morning, morgen ochtend Morsel, z. eene bete, een mond vol. Mortal, bv. ferfelijk, 2) doodelijk Mortally, bw. doodelijk; mortal- ly wounded, doodelijk gewond. Mortar, z. de mesfelkalk. Moschito, moschetto, z. eene foort van kwaadaardige muggen in Amerika, muskiet. Most, bv. (overtreff. tr. van Much) meest,de, het moesto; the most part, het meerendeel, als bv. most of them, de meesten hun- ner; most of his time, zijn meeste tijd. Móst, bw. in eenen hoogen graad, zeer; most excellent, zeer voer. treffelijk, (voor eenige be, om den overtreff. trap aan te dui- den; most dreadful, allerfchrik- kelijkst). Mother, z. de moeder. Mótion, z. de haweging. Motionless, bv. bewegingloos. Motive, z. de beweegoorzaak. Motto, z. de leuze, Spreuk, het motto. to Move, bw. bewegen, in bowe- ging brengen, 2) aandoen, ont- reeren, 3) o. w. in beweging zijn, zich bewegen; we move alone in thee, door u alleen le- ven wij. Móving, dw a moving sight, een treffend fchouwspel. Méult, z. de fijne aarde, 2) de puin; he he soon got out the mould, hij had het puin wel- hasst er nitgewerkt. to Mount, o. w. opklimmen, klimmen, fijgen, zich verkef fen; 2) b. w. beklimmen ; to mount a hill, eenen berg be klimmen. Mountain. z. een berg. Mountainous, bv. bergachtig ; mountainous countries, bergache sige landftreken. to Moura, 0. W. treuren droefd zijn. be™ Moúroful, bv. treurig. Mourafally, bw. treurig, droevig Mouth, z. de mond, de muil, (van menfchen en dieren), ±) de mond eener rivier, the mouth of the Thames, de mond van de Teems. Mouthful, z. een mondvol. Mùch, bv. veel; with much alo, met veel moeite; 2) bw. veel; in so much, voor zoo veel, voor Zoo verre. Mùd, z. fik, modder. Mulberry, Mulberry, z. moerbezie; paper. mulberrytree, de papiermoerbe. zienboom;(morus papirifere Lin). to Mltiply, b. w. vermeerderen; o. w. zich vermeerderen. Maltitude, 2. menigte, 2) de groote hoop, 3) het gemeen. Murder, z. de moord. to Murder, b. w. moorden, ver- moorden. Murmur, z. het gemurmel, gemor. to Murmur, o. w. morreu, 1887- melen, (met at voor eene zaak, en against voor eenen perfoon). Muscle, z. sene mosſel; a muscle shell, cene mosfelſchelp. to Múse, o. w. over iets naden- kon, in diepe gedachten zijn. Músing corner, z. de peinshoek. Músick, z. de toonkunst, muxijk. Musket, z. een fnaphaan; a muɛ- ket ball, een geweerkogel. Muslin, z, het neteldoek. Must, 420 MY MU Must, Convolledig werkw. en al. tijd onveranderl.) moeten. Matineer, z. sen oproermaker, muiter. Mutiny, z. het oproer, de muiterij. to Mutiny, b. w. muiten. Mutual, bv. wederzijdsch; mutual affection, wederzijdsche liefde. Mùrz'e, zo de mond van een fluk gefchut. My, (bezitt. voorn. aingefp. als mi, dech, most bijzonderen ☎a. drak, als mai), mijn, mijne. Myself, (voornaamw.) ik zelf, mij zelven. NE Nail, z. nagel, fpijker. to Ndil, b. w. ſpijkeren. Naked, bv. naakt, onbekleed. Nine, z. de naam; what in the name of wonder, wat toch, in s hemels naam. to Náme, b. w. noemen. Nameless, bv. naamloos. Nanny, (eigen naam), Antje. Narration, z. verhaal, vertelfel. Narrow, bv. naauw, eng; a nar row passage, een naauwe door- togt. Narrowly, bw. naauwelijks, 687 naauwer nood. > Nation, z. het volk, de natie. Native, bv. his native climate zijn geboorteland Native, z. een inboorling. Natural, bv. natuurlijk; a natural way of living, eene met de na- tuur overeenkomftige levens- ·wijze : 2) natural philoso- phy, de natuurkunde; natural history, de natuurlijke gefchie- denis. Naturally, bw. natuurlijker wijze. Náture, z. de natuur, 2) de ei- genaardige gefteldheid, aard. Natured, bv. geaard; good na tured, goedaardig. Navigable, bv. beenarbaar. NE Navigation, z. de Scheepvaart g vaars. Navigator, z. de zeevaarder, zse- man. Nay, bw. neen; 2) als voegw. zelfs, ja; uay, when he had been diligent in learning, ja, wanneer hij vlijtig had wil- len leren. Néar, vz. ra; bw. nabij. Near, bv. na, digt bij, nabij; the nearest way, de naiste weg; c) 'bw. bijna near as good, bijna zoo goed; not near so great, op verre na zoo groot niet. Nearly, bw. bij, ten naaste bij, ongeyser. Néat, bv. zindelijk, fraai, mooi, not. Necessaries, z. mv. benodigdheden Nècessary, bv. noodzakelijk. Necèssity, z. noodzakelijkheid, 2) behoefte, gebrok. Nèck, z. de hals, de nek; 2) a neck of land, eene landtong, landengte, ÿ Néed, z. de nood; without need, onnoodiglijk to be in need of a thing, iets noodig hebben ook to have need, to stand in great need of a thing. ΝΙ 421 ΝΟ to Nedd, b. w. behoeven, noodig hebben, o. w. reden hebben, oorzaak hebben tot iets; be needed not, hij had geene re- den om (fomtijds met, ſom- tijds zonder to), Needful, bv. noodzakelijk. Needle, z. de naald; the magne- tick needle, de magneetnaald. Needless, bv. noodeloos, onnoodig. Needs, bw. noodzakelijk, nood- zakelijker wijze. to Neglect, b. w. verzuimen, ver- onachzamen. Négroe, z. een neger. Neighbouring, bv. naburig. Néither, (voegw.) noch, 2) ook, miet; I neither, ik ook niet. Neither, (voornaam.) geen, nie- mand. Nèst, z. cen nest. Nèt, z. een net. Nètting, z. als een net gewerkt. Neumaker, z. een nettenbreider. Netneedle, z. een netbreinaald. Nèver, bv. nooit, nimmer; never one, geen enkel maal. Nevertheless, bv. niettemin. New, bv. nieuw. - New Foundland, z. Terreneuve, Newfoundland. Newly, bw. onlangs, federt kor- ten tijd. Nineteenth, bv. negentiende. Ninth, bv. negende. No, bw. neen, 2) niet; no morej no longer, wiet meer niet langer. " No, bv. geen; no body, geen mensch, niemand; by no means, in geenerlei wijze. Noble, bv. verheven, adel; it looks so noble, het ftaat zeo ſchoon, zoo edel. to Nod, o. knikken. w. met het hoof Noise, z. het geraas Nòne, bv. geen; it is none of my faults, het is niet onder mijne gebreken, geen mijner gebre- ken, (het is mijne ſchuld niet). Nonsense, z. onzin, wartaal one thinks of nothing but non sense, men denkt aan niets dan gekheid. Noón, z. de middag; forenoon, voormiddag; afternoon, achter- middag; 2) bv. middag, the noon sun, de middagzon; noon) day, de middag. Nor, (voegw) noch. North, z. het noorden, e) noord- noordelijk, moord; waarts the northsea, de moordzee. Nose, z. de neas. Not, bw. niet. News, z. mv. nieuws, nieuwstij. Notch, z. de kerf, infuedo. ding, 2) narigt. Next, bv. naast, daaropvolgend; the next day, den volgenden dag. Nice, bv. uitgezocht, lekker; a nice piece, een fijn flukje, 2) lekker, moeijelijk te bevredigen Night, z. de nacht, de avond; Nothing, bw. niets; to be good for nothing, tot niets deugenz it is nothing to me, hat reakt mij niet. Notice, z. bemerking, acht; to take notice of a thing, op iess acht geven, op iets letten. at nightfall, bij het aanbreken | Notion, z. de inval, het denk van den dag. Nimble, bv. vlug, røp, Mine, bv. negen. 1 besl8. Notwithstanding, (veegw.) niesa tegenstaande. MM Now * 422 NU NO Novice, z. een nieuweling, leer ling. go Nourish, b. w. voeden; the all mourishing hand of Providence, de alvoedende hand der Voor- zienigheid. Nourishment, z. hos voedsel, de levensmiddelen.. Now, bw. nu, thans ; a) now and then, wu en dan, van tijd | tor tijd; now a days, hedendaags. Nowhere, bw. nergens. Nówise, bw. in geenerlei wijze: Noxious, bv. fchadelijk. Numbed, (zie Benumbed) dw. yan to numb, verftijven. Number, z. het getal, 2) ket aan- tal, de menigte; in number, geral. Numberless, bv. talrijk. Numerous, bv. talrijk. Nut, z. de noot; cocoanut, kom kosmoot, hazelnut, hazelnoot. O B oh! (tusfchenw.) o! O', in plaats van of. Oaken, bv. eiken, van eiken hout; oaken bark, eiken fchors. Oár, z. de riem. ath, z. de ecd. Obédience, z. de gehoorzaamheid. Obédient, bv. gehoorzaam. Obediently, bw. met gehoorzaam- heid. to Obey, bw. gehoorzamen.. to Object, o. w. tegenwerpingen OC to Obidin, b. w. verkrijgen, be- komen. Obvious, bv. klaarblijkelijk, oo- genſchijnlijk; for two obvious reasons, wegens twee klaro re- denen. Occasion, z. gelegenheid; on this oc.asion, bij deze ; 2) to have occasion for, noodig hebben, behoeven. to Occasion, b. w. veroorzaken, se weeg brengen. maken, tegenspreken.(against,to) | Occasionally, bw. gelegenlijk, toe- Objèction, z. tegenwerping. Obligation, z. de verpligting. to Oblige, b. w. verpligten, 2) iemand dienst doen; 3) to be obliged, genoodzaakt zijn. Obscure, bv. donker, duister. to Obscure, b. w. verdonkeren. Observation, z. de waarneming, in achtneming, 2) de bemer- king, aanmerking. to Observe, b. w. waarnemen, bamerken, beſchouwen. Observer, z. een waarnemer. Obsolete, by, verouderd. Obstacle, z. sene hindergaal. valliger wijze, bij gelegenheid. Occupation, z. bezigheid. to Occùr, b. w. bejegenen, 2)0. w. zich opdoen, voorkomen, zich toedragen; there occurred so manyoccupations, er kwamen zoo vele bezigheden op, 3) in het geheugen komen, te binnen Schieten; a new thought occar. red to him, hij kwam op eene nieuwe gedachte. Ocean, z. de oceaan, de wereld. zee; the Atlantick ocean, de at lantische zee. Odd, bv, zonderling, rear, won- derg Ο Μ 423 ON derlijk; that's very odd, dat is heel raar; odd gestures, malle gebaarden; 2) odd, oneven, overblijvende; some odd minu- eenige overblijvende mi- tes, nsten. Odour, z. de reak. Of,vz.(het teeken van den tweeden naamv. of genitiv.), the ties of na- ture, de banden der natuur, 2) van; of it, daarvan, van hetzelve, 3) uit; consisting of young folks, beftaande uit jon- ge lieder; 4) of late, onlangs. Off, bw. weg, ver van, words achter verfcheidene workwoor- den geplaatst, to come well off, er wel van afkomen; 2) off, in de taal der ſchippers, op de hoogte; they arrived off Ritze- buttel, zij kwamen op de hoog- te van Rirzebattel. to Offènd, b. w. Seleedigen. Offèuded, dw. en bw. beleedigd; his offended parents, zijne gom krenkte ouders. Offènce, offènse, z. de boloediging. to Offer b. w. aanbieden; to of fer one's prayers to God, zijn gebad tot God opzenden, 2) zich onderftaan; to offer to make resistance, het wagen we- derftand te biedėn. Office, z. het ambt. Officer, z, een beambte, officier; officer of justice, een geregis- dienaar. Offspring, z. cen nakomeling, de nakomelingfchap. Often, bw. dikwijls. Oh! zie O. Oil, z. de olie. Oilet, z. een rijggaatje. Ord, bv. oud. 1 to Òmit, bw. uitlaten, weglaten. Omniposent, bv. almagtig. Omnipresent, bv. alomtegenwoIra dig. Omniscient, bv. alwetend. On, vz. op aan, (van tijd); off a fine summer's evening, op een Schoonen zomeravond, (van plaats); on board, aan boord; on the grass plot, op de groene plek; on deck, op het verdek; on his way, op zijnen weg; he fell on his knees, hij viel op zijne knien; 6) on fire, in den brand; 1) on't, on it, daar- van, daaraan; 8) on a sudden, censklaps; on purpose, mood- willig. On, bw. verder; and so on, en zeo voorts, 2) voort; to go on, voortgaan. voortvaren; tổ work on, voortarbeiden, 3) aan; he put his clothes on, hij deed zijne kleederen aan. Once, (uisgefpr. als wonce), bw. eens, eenmaals there was once, er was eens, 2) flechts eens,3) to gelijker tijd; at once, og eenmaal, 4) cartijās. One, (uitgefpr. als wone), by. één; every one, elk een,ieder een, 2) als telwoord; is one of them, is een daarvan, 3) is betrekking op eenig voorafgaand naamwoord, in welk geval het in het hollandsch niet vertaald wordt; the only surviving one, de eenige in het leven gebie- yene; a young one, een jong 4) als cone onbepaalde perfoon of zaak; when one has nothing to do, wanneer iemand (men) niets te doen heeft; one time or other, vroeg of laat. Only, bv. enkel, cenig; their only child, han eenig kind; 2) Moms bu. x 424 O V OR bw. enkel, alleenlijk. flechts; there only remained, er bleef flechts over. On't, On it, zie On. to Open, b. w. openen. Open, bv. open, 2) onbegrensd, vol, vrij; now they entered into the open sea, nu kwamen zij in de volle zee; the open air, de vrije lucht. pening, z. de opening. Operátion, z. de onderneming: Opinion, z. de meening. Opportunity, z. de geſchikte ge- legenheid. Opposite, vz. tegen over; oppo- site to each other, tegen over elkander. Opposite, bv. tegen over gelegen; the opposite shore, de tegeno verliggende kust, de overzijde. Opprèss, b. w. onderdrukken; his oppressed breast, zijne bea. klemde borst; oppressed with | Ordinarily, bv. gewoonlijk, op de gewone wijze. Ore, (oar), z. erts. Original, bv. oorspronkelijk ; ori- ginal history, oorspronkelijke gefchiedenis. Originally, bw. oorspronkelijke. Origin, z. de oorsprong. Otaheite, z. het eiland Otaheite in de Zuidzee. Other, bv. ander. Otherwise, bw. anders, 2) op se- ne andere wijze. Oven, z. een oven. Over, vz. over. Over, bw. over, overheen; a trip over to England, een uit- Stapje naar Engeland; over against, tegenover, 2) over, voorbij, uit, gedaan; it is over, het is gedaan, 3) voor een werkwoord beteekent het in eenen hoogen graad, zie de onderstaande werkwoorden. grief, overfelpt van droefheid; | Over-affècted, bv. gemaakt, over.. oppressing, drukkend. dreven.. in 288. Oppression, z. de onderdrukking, Over board, bw, over boord, 2) neerslagtigheid. Option, z. de keuze, het goed- het goed- vinden. Or, (voegw.) of. Orchard, z. de boomgaard.. to Ordain, b. w. fchikken, be fluiten. Order, z. de orde, 2) het bevel; 3) in order to om te met voornemen om. to Order, b. w. inrigten, ver- ordenon, 2) bevelen, gebieden. Orderly, bv. regelmatig, orde. lijk, bw. regelmatiglijk, or-. delijk. Ordinary, bv. (gemeenlijk uitge- Sproken als Ordneri), bv. rom gelmatig, a)gewoon, gewoonlijk to Overcharge, b. w. overladen. to Overcome, b. w. te boven ko.. mess, overwinnen; to overcome all difficulties, alle moeijelijk heden te boven komen. to Overflow, o. w. overvloeijen, overftroomen. to Overgrów, b. w. bewassen, be- groeijen; the ground was so overgrown with grass, de grond was met zoo veelgras bewassen. to Overheát, b. w. verhitten, to veel verhitten. to Overload, b. w. overladen. to Overlook, b. w. ove zien, over- het hoofd zien, 2) doorzien, nazien. to. ου 425 OY | to Overpower, b. w. overwel Outery, z. een gefchreeuw, ge- digen. roep. to Oversée, b. w. over het hoofd to Outrùn, b. w. in het leopen zien. to Overset, o. w. omvallen, om- forten; the boat overset, de boot floeg om; 2) b. w, omwerpen. to Overspread, b. w. overfrooi- jen, overspreiden, bedøkken; the sea was all overspread with darkness, de ze was met duis ternis bedekt. Overstrained, dw. overspannen ; an overstrained style, een ge dwongen fijl. to Overtake, b. w. inhaler. Overtook, o. t. van to Overtake. to Overthro, b. w. omwerpen, omkeeren. to Overwhelm, b. w. overftelpen; overwhelmed with grief, van droefheid overftelpt. Ought, Convolledig werkw.) be- hooren, moeten, betamen, ver- fchuldigd zijn.- Our, (bezittel. vocra.) ons, onze. Ourselves, (voorn) wij zelven, ons zelven. Odt, bw. uit; he cried out, hij riep uit; he went out, hij ging. uit; to keep the fire from going out, het vuur aanhouden. Oút, vz. (met of) out of doors, buiten de deur. | | overtreffen; one's pursuers, zijne vervolgers overloopen. Outside, z. de Oúcside, z. de buitenzijde. Outward, bv. buiten, uiterlijk; the outward shell, de buiten- Schaal. to Outwear, b. w. afdragen, af- fijten; his cloths were werd out, zijne kleederen waren verfleton. to Owe, b. w. fchuldig zijn; the money he owed him, her geld dat hij hem fchuldig was, 2) to danken hebben; to him they owed the preservation of their lives, zj waren hem het behoud van hun leven verfchuldigd. co Own, b. w. bekennen, erken. 11:11, 2) 0, W. toebehooren. Own, bv. eigen; as their own children, als hunne eigene kin- ren; to have one's own will, zijnen eigenen wil hebben; his own country, zijn eigen land, zijn vaderland. 7 Owner, z. de eigenaar, Ox, z.. do 05. Oyster, z. de oester. Oysterbed, 2. een oesterbank. Oystershell, z. een ossterfchelp. PA Pace, z. de trede, pas, ſtap. Paced, by a thorough paced hus bandman, een uitgeleerd land- bouwer. to Pacify, b. w. beyredigas. | PA to Pack, b. w. pakken; to pack up, inpakken. Packthread, z. bindgaren, touw. to Paddle, o. w. plassen. Pàgan, . de heiden. M. 3 Pa 426 PA PA Page, z. de bladzijde; on the fol-] to Pardon, b. w. vergeven,.2}} lowing page, op de volgende bladzijde. Páid, dw. en o. t. van to Páy. Păin, z. pijn, ſmart, moeite, 2) do ftraf, 3) ongerustheid; he took pains, hij deed moeite; to give pains, moeite veroorzaken. Painful, bv. Smartelijk, e) moci. jelijk. Painfully, bw.smartelijk, a) moci- jelijk. Paint, z. het blanketfel. Painting, z. het schilderen, de Schildering. Fáir, z. twee bij elkander behoo rende dingen ; in het Hollandsch wordt dis woord ſomtijds weg. gelaten, een paar, a pair of breeches, een broek; a pair of bellows, cen blaasbalg, 2) een paar, (mannetje en wijfje). Palace, z. het paleis. Pàlatable, bv. Smakelijk; a pala- - table food, ſmakolijke ſpijs. Pålate, z. het verhemelte, 2) de Smaak. Påle, bv. bleek; to look pále as death, doodbleek zijn. Palisáde, z. palisfade, eene ſe paal. Pallace, zie Palace. Palm, z. de palmboom. van firaf ontheffen. Párents, z. mv. de ouders. Parrot, z. de papagaai. to Parry, b. w. afkeeren; to ➡a blow, een flag af keeren. Part, z. een deel; in part, gedeel telijk, 2) aandeel; 3) for my. part, voor mij, ik voor mij, 4) de rol van een tooneelspe- ler; to act the part of one, den rol van iemand spelen. to Partáke, b. w. deel aan iets hebben, deelnemen.. Partaker, z deelnemer. Particle, Z. een deeltje, klein- gedeelte. A + Particular, bv. bijzonder, niet al gemeen; a particular walk, en bijzondere, afgelegen, eenza- me, wandelweg, a) omftandig; a particular account, een omflag- tig verhaal, 3) bijzonder, uit- gezocht; a particular pleasure,. een bijzonder vermaak. Particular, z. eene omftandigheid, bijzonderheid; in this particu lar, in deze bijzondere omftan-- digheid. Spit-particularly, bw. bijzonderlijk, inzonderheid, 2) omftandig. Partly, bw. deels, gedeeltelijk. Party, zene partij, een hoop. to Pass, or w、voorbijgaan; I'll pass over this part of the histo- ry, ik wil deze plaats over= flaan, 2) voorbij zijn; 3) b. w. door of over iets gaan, rij• den, varen; they had passed the: straights of Calais, zij waren het kanaal gepasfeerd, 4) door- brengen; he passed his days,, hij bragt zijne dagen door; he passed the night, hij bragt den nacht, deor.. to Palpitate, o. w. how his heart palpitated, hoe zijn hart klopte. Pàn, z. de pan ;: a‹ frying pan, sen braadpan, 2) vaatwerk in het algemeen ; a milk pan, melkput. вет Panther, z. eeu pantherdier. Paper, z, het papier; a sheet of paper, een blad papier. cel, z. het pakje, pakot, kloi- no bundel. Pardon 2. de vergiffenisa ་ Piss PE 427 PE Passage, z de reis, doortogt, overgang, 2) uitgang, opening; a narrow passage under the ground, een naauwe onderaardſche gang, 3) ecne plaats uit een boek. Passenger, z. cen reiziger, pas- fugier; they were passengers, zij waren pasfagiers. Passion, z. de hartstogt. Passionate, bv. driftig, hevig; he used the most passionate ges- tures, hij maakte de hevigfte gebaarden. Past, dw. van to Pass, 2) bv. voorbij.; 3) het verledene. Páste, z. het deeg. Pastime, z. het tijdverdrijf. Paternal, bv. vaderlijk. Path, z. hot pad, de weg. Patience, z. hot geduld. Patient, bv. geduldig, Patiently, bw. met geduld. Pause, z. rust, rustpunt, fil- ftand. to Pause, o, w. rasten, fil hou. den, ophouden; phouden ; after having paus. ed a little, na dat hij zich een weinig bedacht had. N Paw, z. de poot. to. fay, b. w. betalen, I'll pay your expences, ik zal voor a betalen; 2) to pay a visit, een bezoek afleggen; to pay divine worship, godsdienftige hulde be- toonen; to pay obedience, go. hoorzamen; to pay attention, oplecten. Péace, z. de vrede. Peaceful, bv. vreedzaam, gerast. Péack, peak, z. de top van cenon berg; the peak of Teneriffe, de piek van Teneriffe. Peaked, bv. geſpiest, pantig, Spits; a peaked basket, cenfpit- fe mand. : to Péal, b. w. fchillen. Pearl, z. de paarl, parel; Pearled, dw. pearled over, bepan- reld, als beftroeid met paarlen.. Péase, z. inv. erwten. Pèbble, z. keifteen. 4 Peculiar, bv. eigenaardig, bija zonder; peculiar care, bijzon" dere zorgvuldigheid, bijzon-- der doel. Pèn, z.-eene ſchrijfpen. to Penetrate, b. w. doordringen, 2) doorgronden; to penetrate into a matter, iets doorgronden. Peninsula, z. een fchiereiland;- the foremost peninsula, he& fchiereiland aan deze zijde vas den Ganges. Pèasive, bv. nadenkend, diepzian nig, 2) zwaarmoedig. People, z. het volk, 2) de men. felien in het algemeen, het woordje men wordt dikwijls door people vertaald. to Perceive, b. w.bemerken, onsu waren, bespeuren.. Perceptible, bv. markbaar, zigt- baar. to Pèrch, b. w. zitten als een van gel op eenen tak. Pèrfect, bv. volmaakt. Perfèction, z. volmaaktheid. Pèrfectly, bw. volmaaktelijk. to Perform, b. w. uitvoeren, vera. rigton, doen. Performance, z. de uitoefening, dead. Perhaps, bw. misschien. " Pèril, Z. gevsar; at the pèril met gevaar. Périod, z. de tijdruimte, 2) hep tijdffip. to Pèrish, o. w. vergaaN › omkom with hunger, vás hos- ger forven. M.m 4 Per 4:8 ΡΙ PE ; Permission, Z. het verlof, toc- ftemming. to Permit, b. w. vergunnen, toe- Aaan; to be permitted, verlof hebben. Pernicious, bv. fchadelijk, ver- derfelijk. Perpendicularly, bw. regtlijnig, loodregt. Perplexity, z. de verlegenheid. to Pèrsecute, b. w. vervolgen. Persecution, z de vervolging. Perseverance, z. de volharding. to Persevére, o. w. volharden; persevering industry, Handvas- tigs vlijt, naarfigheid. Perspective glass, z. een verre- kijker. to Persist, o. w.volharden, ftand . houden; persist in a refusal, bij zijne weigering weigering Stand houden. Pèrson, z. perfoon. to Persuade, b. w. overtuigen, overreden, overhalen. to Pertain, b. w. behooren tot iets Perú, z. het landfchap van dien naam, Peru, in Zuidamerika. Perúsal, z. het doorloopen, vlug sig doorlezen of hier en daar inzien van een boek. Peruvian, bv. peruaansch, van Peru; peruvian sheep, peruaan- fche fchapen. to Pervert, b. w. verleiden, be derven. Pest, z. de pestziekte, 2) f. elke foort van groote kwaal. Pestilence, z. de pestziekte, de pest. to Petrify, b. w. verfteenen aq pe- trified, verleend, verftij fa van schrik. Pewter, z. het tin. fchijnfel, de verſchijning, mv. phenomena. Philosophy, z. de wijsgeerte; na tural philosophy, natuurkunde. Physical, bv. natuurkundig; faculty, natuurlijk vermogen, natuurkundig vermogen. Physician, z. de geneesheer. Physick, z. het geneesmiddel, de geneesmiddelen. Physicks, z. mv. de natuurkunde. to Pick, b. w. bijeenrapon, op. zamelen; to pick up, lezen, oprapen; to pick out, uitpluk- ken, uitzoeken, lezen. 1 Pickaxe, z. to Pickle, b. w. inloggen, iu- Zosten. Pico, zie Peack.. Picture, z. fchilderij, afbeelding. Piéce, z. een stuk, 2) een kanon, ook a piece of cannon, 3) a piece of work, een Auk werk. Piecemeal, bw. ftuksgewijze, ft uk voor stuk. to Pierce, b. w. doorbooren, door- Aeken, a) f dordringen. Pierced, dw. gehoord. Piéty, z. vroomheid, godvrezend- heid, 2) liefde; filial piety, kin· derliefde. een Pike, z. de piek, ſpies. Pile, z. een stapel, hoop, 2) cou brand- of houtstapel, houtmijn. Pillow Z het hoofdkussen; to advise with one's pillow, zich * op iets beflapen. Pin, z. nene ſpeld, rene speld, 2) con pen,. pin, Spits coeloopend werktuig. to Pine, b. en o. w. 0. w. verdrietig droevig zijn; to pine away one's life, in droefheid verkwijnen. Pious, bv. vroom, godvreczend, 2) teeder. Phenomenon, z. het luchtver Piously, bw. met vroomheid. Rips PL 420 PL Pipkin, z. een potje. Pirate, z. een zeeroover. Pistol, z. een pistool. Pit, z. een gat of hol in de aar- de, een groef. Pitfall, z. Pitch, z. het pik, pek. to Plich, b. w. to pitch a tent, eone rent opslaan; 2)0. w.met upon, kiezen, uitkippen; to pitch upon a thing, iets uitkip- pen, uitzoeken. Piteous, bv. droevig, erbarmelijk. Piteously, bw. jammerlijk. Pitiful, bv. erbarmelijk, armza- lig, ellendig.. Pity, z. het meedoogen, het me- delijden, 2) de oorzaak der klagt, jammer; it were a pity, het ware jammer; it is a great pity, her is wel jammer. to Pity, b. w. beklagen, medelij· den hebben met. Pláce, z. de plaats; 2) in the first place, vooreerst, 3) ceramb- ten; places of trust, gewigtige eerambten. to Plant, b. w. planten; a gar dea, eenen tuis beplanten. Plantation, Z. plantfoen, plant- aadje, 2) ecné volkplanting. Pláte, z. een bord, schotel. to Play, o. w. Spelen; 2) z, her Spel, het fpelan. Playfellow, z. Speelmakker. Pleasant, bv. aangenaam. to Please, b. w. behagen, 2) in iets behagen vinden; if papa would please to give me, indien het papa behaagde mij te geven; if God would please to forgive him, wanneer God hem vergiffenis wilde fchenken; his majesty was pleased, her be- haagde Z. M.; I am not at all pleased with him, ik ben in het geheel niet met hem tevreden. Pléasing dw. van to please, plea sing hopes, aangename hoop.. Plè asure z. hes vermaak; for pleasure, voor pleizier, 2) bea hagen; after his pleasure, naar- het hem behaagt, naar zijn behagen. ** > to Pláce, b. w. plaatſen, zetten, Plèntiful, bv. overvloedig, rijw leggen. Plague, z. eene plaag, 2) heer. fchende besmettelijke on e on vers woestende ziekte, 3), bepaalde delijk de pest. kelijk. Plènty, z. overvloed. Pliable, z. buigzaam. Plòt,.z. een plek, kleins plaats;: the grass plot, de groene plek.- Plain, bv. en bw. plat, vlak, ef- Plough, z. de ploeg. fen, 2) klaar, duidelijk. Pláin, z. eene vlakte, een dal. Pláinly, bw. duidelijk, 2.) onver» bloemd, voor de vuist; he plain- ly told him, hij zeide hem ronduit. Plan, z. eam plan, ontwerp. Pláne, 2. eens vlakte, 2) eene fchaaf. Plank, z. eene plank. Plaut, z. de plant, het gewas. to Plough, b. w. ploegen. Ploughman, z. z. een akkermau bouwman . Plough shåre, z. het kouser. Plow, zie Plough. to Pluck, b. w. plukken, uit plukken. Plummet, z. het zinklood, peil. to Plunge, b. en o. w. onderdui- M№ 5 ken, duiken, zich in het we- ter Bartin. to. 430 РО P.O to Ply, b. w. ijverig aan iets ar- beiden; to ply the oars, met alle magt roeijen. Pocket, z. de zak, tasch. Pocket money, z. zakgeld. Pod, z. de fchaal, ſchil, bast. Pòint, z. de punt, het Spitſe ein- he was but poorly instructed hij was flecht onderwezen. Póre, z. het zweetgaatje. Pórk, z. versch, ongezouten vare kenvleesch; to pickle one's pork, zijn varkenvieesch inzouten. de, 2) eenig bijzonder tijd. Porringer, z. eene kom, ſchaal, punt; he was on the point of, hij fond op het punt van te -, 3) bijzonder voorwerp ; point of view, oogpunt, 4) doel, oogmerk; he carried his point, hij bereikte zijn oog- merk. to Point, b. en o. w. panten, puntig maken, 2) wijzen, ton non; pointing to the map, op de kaart wijzende; the magne- tick needle points to the torth de maagneetnaald wijst her noerden aan. , Pointed, bv. Spits, pantig ; poin- ted posts, pointed poles, ſpitſe · palen. Poison, z. het vergif, gif Poisonous, bv. vergiftig. Póle, z. een paal, 2) een staak. to Polish, b. w. polijsten, 2) be- fchaven. Polished, bv. gepolijst, glad; polished silver, gebruineerd silvor, 2) bofchaafd; pòlished rations, befchaafde volken. Polite bv. befchaafd, welleverd. Poll, z. verkorting van Parrot, of liever de naam van papo- van papo gaaijon, lorretje, lozre! Pond, z. de vijver. Four, bv. arm, behoeftig, 2) armzalig, weinig te ach. sen. Poorly, bw. arm, behoeftig; 2) armzalig, weinig te achten; nap, een bekken. Port, z. de haven. Pórtion, z. een deel, aandeel. to Possèss, b. w. bezitten. Possible, bv. mogelijk. Possibly, bw. mogelijk, he could' not possibly judge, het was hem niet mogelijk te oordeelen. Póst, z. een post, paal, 2) de post van den foldaat, 3) het ambi, de post. to Pose, b. w. ftellen, plaatſex. Postèrity, z. de nakomelingſchap. to Postpone, b. w. verſchuiven j uitftellen. Posture, z, de toeftand', 2) de plaatsing van het ligchaam, het postuur. Pòt, z. een por; a watering pot, eon gietemmer, 2) een kroeg, kraik. Potatoe, z. de aardappel. Potion, z. een drank; bewitching pótion, een tooverdrank. Potter, z. een pottenbakker. Pouch,. z. con zak, tasch; a hun- ter's pouch, eene wijtasch; a pouch ful, een zak vol. Potud, z. hes pond. to Pound, b. w. footen, fampen (in een' vijzel), verbrijzelen. to Podr, b. w. uitfchudden, uit- gicien, uitforten; f. to pour blessings upon one, ismand met zegeningen overlades, 2) b. w. vloeijen, ftroomen; to pour forth PR 43r PR forth praises to God, Gods lef uitboczemen; the rain poured down, de regen fortte neder. Powder, z. poeder, ſtof, ±) bus- kruid, ook gunpowder. Powder room, z. de kruidkamer. Power, z. de magt. Powerful, bv. magtig. Practice, z. de wijze van iets to doen. to Practice, prac ise, b. w. en o. w. iets oefenen, uitoefenen, doen, drijven. Praise, z. de roem, lof; a hymn of praise, een lofzang. to Praise, b. w. prijzen, 2) dank· zeggen; to praise God, God danken, 3) bidden. Pray, (tusfchenw. eigenl. b. w. I pray), oi lieve. Prayer, z. het gebed; to say prayers, bidden. Precaution, z. de voorzigtigheid. to Precéde, o. w.voorgaan; what preceded this narration, wat de- ze vertelling vooraf ging. Précept, z. het bevel, voorschrift. Précious, bv. kostbaar. Précipice, z. de afgrond. to Precipitate, b. w.nederflorten. Precipitation, z. de overhaasting. Préface, z.devoorrede, inleiding. to Prefèr, b. w. de voorkeur ge- verkiezen boven iets ven, anders. Prejudice, z. het vooroordeel. Prejudicial, bv. nadeelig, fcha- delijk. Preparation, z. de voorbereiding. to Prepáre, b. w. voorbereiden; 2) o. w. zich gereed maken. to Prepossess, b. w. innemen ; prepossessed with a thing, met iets ingenomen ; with a foo lish fear, met eene dwaze vrees, to Prescrible, b. w. voorſchrijven. Frèsence, z. de tegenwoordigheid; ་ of mind, van geest. tegenwoordigheid Prèsent, bv. tegenwoordig (van plaats zoo wel als van tijā), ook at present. Présent, z de tegenwoordige tijd; for the present, voor het tege woordige, s) een gefchenk. to Present, b. w. aanbieden, fchenken, geven, 2) daar- ftellen. Prèsently, bw. tegenwoordig, 2) terftond. Preservation, z. het behoud. to Preserve, b. w. behouden, bei ſchermen; God preserve us for it, God behoede ons daarvoor ; the preserved people, de gered• de menfchen. Presèrver, z. de redder, behou. der, befchermer. to Prèss, b. w. drukken; the wine is not pressed, de wijn words. niet uitgedrakt ; to press down, nederdrukken; 2) met tegen- Spoed drakken, beladen; pres• sed with grief, door kom 133 T gedrukt, 3) aandringen, ver» zoeken; he pressed the captain, hij drong den kapitein; 4) 0. w. to press upon one, op is. mand aandringes, (in het gevecht). Prèss, z. de pers. Prèssing, bv. en dw. drukkend; his pressing wants, zijne dria- gendfte behoeften. to Presume, b. w. en o. w. gis. fen, vermoeden, 1) zich aan- marigen, de vrijpostigheid nemen. Presumptions, bv. läärdunkend j trotsch, vermetel. to Pretènd, b. w.voorgeven, voor: WINS 432 PR PR wenden, 2) zich inbeelden; 3) 0. w. zich verfouten, wil- Tens zijn. Pretty, bv. fraai, mooi, aardig, 2) tamelijk; pretty good, vrij goed. to Preváil, o. w. de overhand be- halen, 2) heerfchen; silence prevailed throughout nature., eene diepe filte heerschte in de natuur; 3) to prevail on one, iemand overreden, over- halen. to Prevent, b. w. voorkomen, ver- hinderen, verhoeden. Prize, beter price, z. de prijs, de winst, het geluk, 2) het loon. Probability, z. waarſchijnlijkheid Probable, bv. waarſchiinlijk. Probably, bw. waarschijnlijk. Probity, z. de eerlijkheid, braaf heid. to Procéed, b. w. voortgaan, ver- volgen; he proceeded with his work, hij zette zijn werk voort; on his journey. hij vere. volgde zijne reis, 2) afkom- fig zijn, afstammen. Proceeding, z. het gedrag, de handelwijze. Prévious, bv. voorafgaande, voor- Process, z. de voortgang; in pro. loopig. Préy, z. buit, proni, roof; a bird of prey, een roofvogel. to Préy, o. w. met on, verwoes, ten, vernielen. Price, z. de prijs, waarde; at the same price, voor denzelf den prijs. Prickle, z. de doorn van planten; prickles of thorns, de ftekels van doorner. Priest, z. de priester. Prince, z. de vorst, prins; a prince's feast, een vorftelijk maal Principal, b. het voornaamfte; the principal truths, de voor- naamste waarheden. Principle, z. de grondslag, grond- ftelling. to Print, b. w.drukken, afdrukken. Print, z. a print of human foot, een afdrukfel van eenen men - Schenvoet. Prison, z. de gevangenis. { Prisoner, z. een gevangene; to take prisoners, krijgsgevange nen maken. Private, bv. verborgen, heimelijk. Privately, bw. heimelijk. cess of time, in vervolg van tijd. to Proclaim, b. w. bekend maken, uitroepen. to Procure, b. w. verfehaffen, bezorgen. Procuration, z. bezorging, beyor- dering. Prodigal, bv. verkwistend. Prodicious, bv. wonderbaar, on- geloofelijk, verbazend, zeer groot. to Prodice, b. w. voortbrengen, veroorzaken. Production, z. voortbrengsel. Productive, bv. voortbrengend, vruchtbaar. to Profèss, b. w. openlijk beken": 18012 - a religion, eenen gods- dienst belijden. Profitable, bv. voordeelig, nuttig, Profound, bv. diep; a profound silence, eens diepe ftilte. Progress, z. de vordering, voort- gang. Progrèssive, bv. vorderend, toe Progressive, bv. vorderend, nemend. Project, z. het voorwerp, voor. nemen; to drop a —, een hand o'pa laten varen. PR 433 PR to Projèct, b. w. ontwerpen, vér- zinnen, to projèct a scheme, ean plan ontwerpen. Prolix, bv. wijdloopig, witvoe- rig, amflagtig. to Prolong, b. w. verlangen. Promise, z. de belofte. to Promise, b. w. beloven. Promontory, z. een voorgebergte, to Promote, b. w. bevorderen, bewerken. to Pròœpt, b. w. aanſporen, aan- drijven, verpligten, noodza- ken; humauity prompted me to it, de menschlijkheid noodzaak- to mij er toe, te Pronounce, b. w. aitfpreken. Preóf, z. een bewijs, 2) eone proeve. Proof, bw. bestand; proof against wind and weather, 18gen wind en weer beftand. to Pròp, b. w. fitukken, to Propagate, b. w. voortplanten, vermeerderen. Proper, bv. eigen, eigenlijk, waar, behoorlijk; the proper reason, de ware oorzaak, 2) eigenaardig. Properly, bw. eigenlijk, ben hoorlijk. Property, z. het eigendom, ver. mogen, de bezittingen, 2) de eigenschap. Frophecy, z. voorzegging. to Prophecy, prophesy, b. w. voorzeggen, voorspellen. Propórcion, z. evenredigheid, ver- houding, in proportion as, naır mate. Proposition, z. hee voorfel, de voorflag. Proprieter, z. de eigenaar. to Prosecute, b. w voorszėtién, vervolgen; - a work, met een werk voor gaan. Prospect, z het uitzigt kst aanzien. to Prosper, o. w. gelakkig zijn, flagen, zijn gelak miken, Prosperity, z. voorspoed, gelak. Prosperous, bv. voorspoedig,gar ftig, 2) gelukkig. to Prostrate, b. w. - One's self, zich op den grond werpen. Prostration, z. de vocrval; after an humble prostration, masemen nederigen voetval. to Protèct, b. w. befchermen. Protèction, z. de bescherming. Protestant z. de protestant, hervormde. Proud, bv. ingebeeld, grootsch, hovaardig. to Prove, b. w. bewijzen, 2) 01 dorzoeken, 3) o w, blijken se zijn of te doen; she proved to be the mother, het bleek dat zij de moeder was; the wind proved favorable, de wind blesk gunftig te zijn; if he should prove to be a traitor, in geval dat het mogt blijken, dat hij een verrader wars. Proverb, z. fpreekwoord. to Provide, b. w. met iets voor zien, verzorgen, (met of s with), 2) iemand verzorgen, (met for). Providence, z. de voorzienigheid; divine providence. Provision, z. de voorraad, 2) my levensmiddelen. Prudent, bv. voorzigsiz. Proportionable, by. geevenredigd, | Provision waar evenredigheid. Proposal, 2. kes voorßtel, de voorflag. co Prúne, b. w. fnacij n, befnije Na dom. 434 PU PU } den; he pruned the hedge, hij | Pûr osely, bw. voorbedachtelijk. fnoeide de heg. Publicátion, z. de afkondiging. + Publick, z. het publiek. Publickly, bw. openlijk. Padding, z. cene worst, podding; a fried pudding,eone braadworst to Pull, b. w. trekken, Scheu- ren, rukken; to pull down, nederrukken; to pull off one's cap, zijne muts afnemen ; pull off one's clothes, zich onts klecden. Pulse, z. de pols. Pump, z. de pomp. co Pump, b. w. pompen. Pumpkin, z. 414 to to Punish, b. w. ftraffen, kastij- den, bestraffen. Pupil, z. de leerling, kwekeling. to Purchase, b. w. koopen. Pure, bv. ſchoon, helder, 2) zui- ver, onvermengd. to Purify, b. w. zuiveren. Purpose, z. het voornemen, doel; | for that purpose, ten dien ein- de; on purpose, moodwillig, met voordacht; to answer the same purpose, tot hetzelfde doel dienen; to no purpose, te vèr- geefs. | 4 Parse, z. de beurs, galizak. to Pursue, b. w. vijandelijk ver- volgen, naz sten, 2) voortzet- tez, 3) navolgen, (als cen voorbeeld). Pursier, z. de vervolger. ✓ to Push, b. w. footen, fchuiven, drijven, inftoppen. to Put, b. w. zetten, leggen, Bellen; his stomach put him ia mind, zijne maag herinnerde ham, 2) met bw. krijgt dit woord verfchillende beteekenis◄ fen; to put off one's cloths, zich ontkleed.n; to put off, uitſtellen, verfchuiven; to put oa one's clothes, zich aanklee- deni to put out a fire, een vuur uitdoven; to put up with · a piece of bread, met een fuk brood voor lief nomen. Putrefaction, z. bederf, rotting. Pútrid, bv. bedorven, verral. Puzzle, b. w. in verlegenheid brengen; it puzzled his brains, hij brak zich vorgeefs het heefd, hij kon niet begrijpon; bis understanding was puzzled, zijn vorBand ftond Ail. Pyramid, z. eene piramide. Q U Quality, z. eigenſchap. Quàlmisb, bv mis´elijk; he grow qualmish, hij werd misfelijk. Quantity, z. hoeveelheid, menig- te, grootte. Quarrel, z. de, twist, het krakeel. Quarter, z. het vierde deel; a hiod quarter', con achterstub van'een gefagt dier, 2) de QU hewelFreek; a wind blowing from all quarters, con wind die ait alle hoeken des hemels kwam, 3) genade, fchenking van het leven; he begged for quarter, hij bad om zijn leven. to Quench, b. w. lesfchen; to quench one's thirst, zijnen dorss lesfchen. Ques. Q U 435 QU Question, z. de vraag, 2) het onderwerp des gefpreks; the matter in question, de zaak waarvan hier de rode is. Quick, bv. en bw. fnei, ſpoedig, fchielijk, vlug. Quickly, bw. fnel, ſpoedig,ſchis~ lijk, vlug. Quickness, z. Spoed, gezwindheid. Quiet, bv. Hil, gerast. to Quiet, b. w. gerust fellen, fillen. Quietly, bw. flil, gerastelijk, to Quit, b. w. verlaten; the island, bet eiland verlaten. Quite, bw. geheel, geheel en al. RA RE Rice, z. de wedloop, loop, loop Rapidity, z. de fnelheid. baon, Raft, z. een vlot, houtvlot. Rafter, z. 6en dwarsbalk, balk. Rag, z. cen vod, lap, lor. Rapidly, bw. fuel. Rapture, z. de verrukking. Ráre, bv. zeldzaam, ongewoon. Rascal, z. een booswicht, fchurk. Rage, z. de woede, 2) de ho- Rish, bv. over eild, onbezornen, vigheid. to Rage, o. w. worden, razen, tieren; the raging sea, de woe- dende zee. vermetel. Rashness, z. de onbezondenheid, overeiling, Rasp, z. cene rasp. Ragged, bv. gefcheurd, aan flon- | Ráce, z. de prijs, waarde; at : ters, gelapt. Rais, z. de regen. to Ráin, o. w, regenen. to Raise, b. w. verheffen, in de hoogte heffen, 2) wokken, op• wokken, aanwakkeren. Raisin, z. de rozijn. Ráke, z. de hark, to Rally, o. w. zich weder in or-- de fiharen, zich weder ver- zamelen. Ràm, z. een bok. Ranbie, z. oen zwervor, tand. looper. Rampart, z. de wal, flads muar. Random, z. het toeval; at rand- om, op goed gelak. Rapacious, bv. rosfgierig. Rapid, bv. fuel, gezwind; a rapid een fucile freon. stream, this rate, tot deze prijs. Rather, bv. liever, veslear; he chuse rather, hij wilde liever. Ravelin, z. gracht, ravelijn, vestingwerk ait twee flanken, én eenen hoek beftaande. Raven, z. de raaf. Råvenous, bv. roofzuchtig, gro- tig, gulzig. 1 to Ravish, b. w. verrukken. Raw, bv. raauw, ongekookt ; raw flesh, raauw vleesch, a) van het vel ſprekendo, gekwetst. to Réach, b. w. bereiken, 2) to e◄ reiken, aanbieden, 3) 0. W. zich uittrekken. Réach, z. de afftand waarop wen iets bereiken kan, het bereik, within his reach, endar zijn bereik. Nas to 435 RE R& to Read, b. w, lemen.. Réader, z. de lezer. Readiness,z.de bareidwilligheid. Reading, het lezen, de lezing. Ready, bv. gereed, 2) bereidwil- lig, 3) bij de haud, nabij. Réal, bv. wezenlijk; a real nut, eene wezenlijke noot, the real cause, de wezenlijke (eigenlij- ke, ware), oorzaak. Reality, z. de wezenlijkheid. to Reap, b. w. rapen, ineogfter, inzamelen. to Rear, b. w. fokken, opbren gen, kwecken; he reared a flock, hij fokte eene kudde. Reáson, z. de rede, het gezond verftand; inconsistent with rea- son, met de rede, met het ge- zond verftand, onbestaanbaar, 2) de oorzaak, reden, grond. to Reason, o. w.redeneren, den- ken, befluiten, 2) naar rede, oorzaak, vragen. Réasonable, bv. redelijk, 2) billijk Reasonably, bw, redelijk, 2) billijk | Reasoning, z. het redeneren, den ken, oordeelen. Rèbel muiter. een oproermaker, to Rebound, o. w. terugſprin w. terugfprin- gen, afspringen. to Recall, b. w. terugroepen. o Recéipe, b. w. ontvangen, donnemen, 2) iemand huisves sen, ontvangen, onthalen; he received him with great hospi tality, hij ontving hem met veel gastvrijheid. Receptacle, z. de bewaarplaats, 2) de plaats waar men iets ont- vangt of huisvest, de verza- melplaats. to Reckon, b. w. rekenen, bere. kenen; he reckoned ever, hij borekende. to Recláin, b. w. terugvorderen, to Recline, o. w. leunen, rusten. to Recollect, o. w. wedergirza- melen, 2) herinneren; do you recollect? herinnert gij u? 3) one's self, zich bezinnen, weder bij zijne zinnen komen. to Recommèud, b. w. aanbevelen. to Record, b. w. opschrijven, aanteekenen, verhalen. Recourse, z. toevlugt; to have recourse, zijne toevlugt nemon. to Recòver, b. w. iets weder ba- komen, tereg bekomen; - one's ship, zijn fchip terug krije gen; to recover one's seuses, one's spirits, one's self, weder bij zijue zinnen komen; - one's liberty, vrij komen. Recovery, z. herstel, genezing. to Rècreate, b. w. verkwikkeu o verfrisſchen. to Recriut, b. w. werven ; - one's self, herftellen, nieuwe krach tan krijgen. Rèd, bv. rood; red-hot, gloek- jend. to Redden, b. w. rood maken, Reddish, bv. roodachtig. to Redouble, b. w. verdubbelen, to Redúce, b. w. terugbrengen, brengen tot; to reduce to obé> dience, tot gehoorzaamheid brengen, 2) bedwingen, var- overen; to be reduced by hun ger, door den honger gepijnige worden. Réed, z. het riot. Réel, z. cen haspel, garenklas. Rèference, z. de betrekking. to Refit, b. w. verfiellen, in- zonderheid van fchepen, kale. faren, to Reflect, b. en o. w. terugwer- pen, efkaaiſen; to reflect the light,. RE 437 RE light, het licht terugkaatfón, 2) iets overwegen, nadenken, (met on of upon). ragvallen, of tot eenen yori- gen misflag terugkeeren. to Reláte, b. w. verkalan. Reflèction, z. het nadenken, de Relácion, z. de vertelling, her overweging. to Refrain, o. w. zich met ge- weld van eene zaak onthouden, 2) zich beswingen, betoomen. to Refresh, b. w. verkwikken, verfrisschen. Refreshment, z. de verkwikking. to Refuse, b. w. en o. w. weige ren, iets weigeren, weigerig, onwillig zijn. Refusal, z. de weigering. ro Rèfuge, b. w, in beſcherming nemen. to Regain, by w. herwinnen, Wes der verkrijgen. Régal, bv, koninklijk. to Regard, b. w. iets achten, 2') iets in aanmerking nemen, 3) in zijne bescherming nemen. Regard, z. de blik, ) de betrek. verhaal, berigt, 2) een bloed- verwant, 3) betrekking ; bear relation to our happiness 10 tot ons geluk betrekking hebben. Relative, bv. betrekkelijk. Relaxácion, z. nalatigheid, 2) verflapping. Released, dw. bevrijd, vrijgs- laten. Reliéf, z. verligting, leeniging. to Reliéve, b. w. verzachten verligten, 2) eenen ſchijd- wacht aflosfen. Religion, z, de godsdienst. Religious, bv. godsdienftig; reli- gious sects, godsdienstige par- tijem to Relinquish, b. w. verlaten, iets opgeven, laten varen. to Relish, z. de goede fmaak, aangename ſmuak. Rèlishing, bv. ſmakelijk, PAD goeden fmaak. king tot iets with regard to, ten aanzienyan, ten opzigt wan. Région, z. de landftreek. Regrèt, z. ſpijt, droefheid, be. Reluctance, 2. 2. de tegenzin, rouw. weerwil. 1 to Regret, b: w. beklagen, be to Rely, o. w. zich op iets ver- rouwen, betreuron. Régular, bv. regelmatig Regularly, bw. regelmatig. to Regulate, b. w. verordenen, inrigten. laten, op vertrouwen. to Remain, o. w. overig blijven, overblijven. Remains, z. mv. het overschot, de overblijfſålen. Regulation, z. de verordening, Remainder, z. mv. het overſchot, inrigting. to Rejecs, b. w. verwerven. · to Rejice, o. w. vrolijk zijn; to rejoice in a new day, zich over eenen nieuwen dag yor- heugen; in a truth, over ee- me waarheid. de overblijffelen. Remárk, z. de bemerking, can- merking. Remarkable, bv. merkwaardig. Rèmedy, z. een geneesmiddel, in het algemeen elk middel tegem cenige kwaal. to Relapse, o. w. weder inforto i ten » in eens vorige zickis te- Remember, b, w. sich iets herinneren. Nas Re 438 RE RE Remembrance, z. de herinnering, het geheugen. To Remind, b. w.iemand iets kor- inneren. Remonstrance, z. de voorfelling, de vermaning, waarschuwing, raadgeving. Remote, bv. afgelegen, verwij- derd, zoo wel van tijd als plaats Sprekende; into the re- motest futúrity, tot de laatfte | sijden. o Reméve, b. w. uit den wig ruimen, wegschaffen, verwij- deren. to Rend, b. w. Scheuren, ver- fcheuren. o Render, b. w. wedergoven, 2) maken; to render one's self un- worthy of a thing, zich iets on- waardig maken. to Renew, b. w. vernieuwen. to Renounce, b. w. ontzeggen, van afzien, opgeven; to re nounce a pleasure, een vermaak ontzeggen ; an error, dwaling laten varsu. Rènt, dw. van to Rend, in ftuk- ken gefcheurd. eene to Repair, b. w. herftellen, ver- maken; 9). o. w. zich begiven (naar eenige plaats). Repair, z. het verblijf, de vor- blijfplaats. Repåst, z. de maaltijd. to Repéat, b. w. herhalen, iets ten tweeden male doen, nog eens doen. Repeatedly, bw. herhaalde ret zen, bij herhaling. to Repènt, o. w. berouw hebben, zich bedroeven, (met of), he repented of his wrongs, hij had berouw van zijne misdrijven ; if you sincerely repent, indicn ww berouw opregt is. Repentance, z. het berouw. Repentant, bv. berouw hebbend, boetvaardig. to Reply, o. w. antwoorden. Reply, z. sen antwoord, segon? werping. Repórt, z. het gorngt, algemeen verhaal, het gezegde, her be rigt, 2) het geluid van eers kanonſchot. Repóse, z. do rust, de faop. to Repose, o. w. aitrust815 ruiter. to Represent, b. w. voorstellen. Reproach, z. het verwijt. to Reprove, b. w. loken, baris- pen, afkeuren. Requést, z. con verzoek, eene bede to Require, b. w. vorderen, ver- lasgen, 2) vereiſchen, noodig zijn. Rèquisite, bv. noodzakelijk, nood- wendig. to Requíte, b. w. vergelden. to Rescue, b. w.bevrijden, redden Resèmblance, Z. de gelijkenis, gelijkheid; to bear some,resèm- blaace, eenige gelijkenis hobben. to Resèmble, o. w. gelijken, geo lijk zijn. to Reserve, b. w. bewarez, be- Sparen. Reserve, z. bespaarde voorraad, poorraad voor den tijd vaœ nood, ■) voorbehoudings to Reside, o. w. wonen. to Resign, b. w. nederleggen, onderwijzen; one's self, zich erijwillig en gelaten onder. werpen; with resigned fortitu- de, met gelatens ftandyas- righeid. Resignation, z. onderwerping. to Resist, b. w. tegenstand bie den, wederfiasn. RE 439* KE ร . ro Acosive bo và Belaitên, có Roobive resolve apòa, vastfallen; the voyage was resolved upon, de Teis werd bepaald. Résolate, bv. kloekmoedig, man- haftig, vast bifloten. Resolucion, z. het binit, het Voornemen, a) de fandvastig- heid, klockmoedigheid. Resource, z. halpmiddel,hulpbron Respect, z. de eerbied, a) be- srekking, epzigt in some res- pect, eenigermate, in fumi- ge opzigton; with respect to, ten opzigte var. Respecrable, bv. eerbiedwaardig, achtingswaardig. Respectully, bw. eerbiedig. Respiration, z. de ademhøling. Respite, z. her wisfol, de ftil " Band, 2) verfchooning.\ Best, z, her overblijffel, de rost, hot overfchor; for the rest yoor has overige; all the rest of us, alle de overigen van ons. Rest, z. de rust, de flaap; his mind was never at rest,. mooit was zijn geest gcrust. Readless, bv. onrustig,russeloos. to Restore, b. w. horftellen, te- ruggeven; to restore to life, sot het leven terug brengen; to restore to vice, in de on. dougd terng flepen; a restored friend, een herwonnen vriend. to Res.ráio, b. w. terughoudon, afhouden. t Result, o. w. outflaan, ent- Springen, volgen, het ge. volg zijn. Result, z. het gevolg, het einde. to Resume, b. w. iets (dus afges broken was) horvasten, weder @pvatten, weder aanvangen; the father resumed the story, dė vadir vatte den draad van het verhaal weder op; he re- sumed his air of familiarity, hij nam - zijn vriendelijk gelsar- weder aan. to Retain, bi w. beliarden, 2): onthouden, siet vergeten. to Retake, b. w. hernemon, wsi- deram nemen. Rétinue, z. het gevolg, de ftoet,. hefftoes. ་ས་ to Retiré, o. w. terug trekkeny, aftrekken, weggae¤; Retired, bv. eenzaam. Reuréat, een toevlugtsoord, wijkpleats, ſchuilplaats, 2). een eenzaam verblijf, 3) de eenzaamheid. to Retreat, o. w. zich terug trekken. to Retrieve, b. w. inhalen, we- der bekomen, vergeeden; to retrieve one's younger days,zij. xe jonge dagen nog eeus ge- nietes. to Return, o. w tersgkeeren, wederkomen, omkeeren; 2) b. w. teruggeven; to return thanks, bedanken, danken. Return, z. de terugkomst, we- derkomst. to Revéal', b. w. opezbaren, oui. dekkens Reverence, z. de eerbiedigheid, aerbewijzing, hylde. Revèrse, z. de omgekeerde zijde, 2) het tegendeel; and so the re- vèrse, on zoe omgekeerd, bij afwisseling. Rèvery, z. droomarij, mijmering. to Revive, o. w. op nieuw¡eyong 2) b. w. bozicion. co Revòlve, b w. overwegen; be revolved in his mind, hij over- woog bij zich zelyen. No 4 R&T 440. RE RO hot Revolution, Z. omwenteling; the great revolution of nature, vreesfelijk nataargewrocht. to Reward, b. w. beloonen, ver- gelden. · Reward, z. de vergelding, het leons Riband, z. een lint. Rice, z. de rijst. Rich, bv. rijk. Riches, z. de rijkdom. Richly. vloedig. bw. rijkelijk, over- to Ripple, b. to Ripple, b. w. het glas ho kelen. Ripplecomb, Zi Rise, 2. het opftaan; the rise of the sun, het opftaan van de zon; the sunrise, de zonnenop- gang, 2) de oorsprong. to Rise, o. w. opftaan, rijzen, 2) zich verheffen. Rising ground, z. een verheyen grond, heuvel. to Risk, b. w.wagen, iets wagen.- ietswagen. Rick, z. een hoop ; his hayrick, River, z. de rivier. zijn hooiberg. Ald, dw. van to Rid. to Rid, b. w. bevrijden g-to get rit of one, iemand kwijt ra- kon, hem los worden. Riddle, z. een raadfel, in het algemeen: elke onverklaarbare, duistere zack. to Ride, o. 0. en b, w. te paard rijden. Ridge, z. eene bergketen, gene rei bergen. z. Riverwater, 2. het rivierwater. Road, z. de groote weg, land- weg, heerenwag; near the road-- side, bij den weg; what roads to keep, welken weg men moess infagn. ફો ro Roam, o: w. rondzwerven. to Roar, o. w. brullen, 2) loei- jen, gelijk doe zes of de ftorm- wind. • Roaring, z. het geloei, her gebrul. to Roast, b. w braden. Ridingbreeches, z my. cene rij- Roast, dw.gebraden; roast meat. brock. Rigging, z. de takellaadje, het touw'entakelwerk van een fchip Right, bv. regt, 2) jaist, regt; you are right, gij hebt gelijk; 3) the right hand, de regter hand. Right, bw. regt, juist; very right, juist. Right, z. het regt, gelijk; you are in the right, gij hebt gelijk. Righteous, bv. regtſchapon, regi- vaardig, eerlijk, braaf. · Rightly, bw. met regi, regima. tiglijk. Rind, z. de bast, fchors. Ringleader, z. de aanvoerder, belhamer. Ripe, bv. rijp, tijdig, so Ripen, o. w. rijp worden. | | gabraden vleesch. to Rob, b. w. berooven, rooven. Robber, z. een roovers Rock, z. rots, klip.. • Rocky, bv.rotsachtig, vol klippen to Roll, b. en 0. w. rollen, wen- telew; the ship rolled up and down, het fchip rolde heen ex weer; some years rolled over, eenige jaren verloopen. Róller, z. rol, rolkout. Roman, bv. romeinsch, roomschg a roman catholick, een roomscha gezinde. Roof, z. het dak. Roóm. z. de ruimte; bereisroom enough, hier is plaats geroog, 2) kamer; the powderroom, de kruidkamer, Boot, RU 44T RU Rodt, z. de wortel: Rópe, z. een touw. Ropemaker, z. een touwflager. Róse, o. t. van to Rise. Rosin, z harst, pik of pek. Rotten, dw. van to Rot, verrot, bedorver. to Rove, o. w. rondzweryen; tô rove about the woods, in de berfchen zwerven.. Rough, bv. raw. Round, bv. rond; round about, rondom; a round about´way, een omweg. to Rodse, b. w. uit den slaap wekken, opwekken, asumOJ – digen. Rów, z. cane ret. to Rów, b. w. rosijen.. Royal, bv. koninklijk. Royalty, z koninglijke UGAT- digheid. to Rub, b. w. wrijven.- Rubbish, z. pain, painhoopen.. Rudiment, z. de beginfelon.cener wetenſchap, 2) her serte on- derwijs. Rufled, dw. van to Ruffè, g‹- kreukeid, køibelend, (van ko zee sprekende). Rúin, z. de ondergang, vernico. siging, a) mv. de puinhoopen D: ruines, overblijfſelèn. to Ruin, b. w. verzielen. " Rule, z. regel, voorſchrift. Rumbling, 2. het ger atel, ges Kletter.- to Run, o, w. loopen; to run into glas, tot glas uitloopen. Rouning, dw. van to Rug, ranning footman, ese looper hardlooper. Rúral, bv. landelijk, 2. Rush, z. de bies, eene foort van- watergrass to Rush, o. w. ſnel eronſtuinig leopen, plofelijk voor den dag- kemen to rush down, neder-- forten; the blood rushed in his face, her blood froomde in zijn: aangezigt. • Rustling, z. het geruisch, Tuia- ſchen; of the leaves, het rui faken der bladen. Rye, 2. dê rog, rogge, bekends: foort van graan. SA Sacred, bv. hoflig; by all that is sacred, bij al wat heilig is. to Sacrifice, b. w. opoffères, toe- wijden. Sål, bv. treurig, droevig; the sad consequences, da droevige gevolgen. Saddle, z. de zadel. . Saddler, z. do zadelmakera. Safe, bw. galukkig, veilig; safe and sound, frisch en gezond, belio.den. N.n SA Safely, bw. veilig, zonder vaar, gelukkig, behouden. | Safery, & de zekerheid: Said, or ten dwi yas to Say. Sáil, z. let zeil. Sail cloth, zo-bos zeildoek. to Sáil, o. w. en b. w. zeiler, va en, uitzeilen. matress. Sailor, z. een zeeman, Sake, z. de eindbewegings oor zaak, for our sake, om onstar wille, ten onzen behoeve; for sport's 442 SC SA sport's sake, uit boort, voor tijdverdrijf, uit kortswijl. Såle, z. de verkoop. Sallied, o. t. van to Sally. to Sally, o. w. he sallied forth, hij trok af. Sált, z. het zout; bv. zout, go- Zouten; to salt herrings, harin- gon in pekel doem. Sàlvage, z. de berging, rodding van verongelukte fchepen, the laws of wreck and salvage, hes Arandregt. Salutary, bv. heilzaam. Sáme, bv. zelfde; the very same, juist de (of her) zelfde. Sample, z. het monfter, staaltje. Sånd, z. het zand. 4 Sandbank, z. de zandbank. Sandal, z. de voetzool der voeten. Sandy, bv. zandig. Sanguine, bv. levendig; shuguine wishes, varige wenschen. Săţ, o. t. van to Sit. to Sáriate, b. w. verzadigen; he could not satiate his eyes, hij kon zijne oogen niet verzadigen Satisfaction, z. de bevrediging, voldoening, het genoegen. ? to Satisfy, b. w. voldoen, genoo. gon goven, bevredigen. Saturday, z. zaterdag. Savage, b. v. wild; z. een wilde. to Sáve, b. w. redden, behouden; one's self, zich redden, 2) Sparen; to save of one's pocket money, van zijn zakgeld be- Sparen. Sáving, z. da redding. Savour, 2. de fmakelijkheidi Saufage, z. een braadworst. Sáu, o. t. van to Sel. Saw, Z. oone Zaag. • to Sáwy b. w. zagon. | | to Sảy, b. w. en o. w. zeggen; it is said, men zegt. Sáying, z. eene ſpreuk, een fproek. woord. to Scald, b. w. met heet water brandon, Broeijen. Scarce, bw. uzaawélijks. to Scare, b. w. vrees aanjagon ;. instated out of his scufer, van vrees buiten zich zelven. Scarlet, z. fcharlaken; bw.ſchar- lakenrood. J to Scatter, b. w. rondfrooijen; -0. w, zich verftrooijen ; about the woods, zich in de bosfchen verspreiden. Scéne, z. de fchouwplaats, 2) een tooneel; family scenes, huise felijke tooncelan. Schéme, z. ontwerp, plan. Scholar, z. een geleerde, 2). 6.8.12. feholier, leerling. School, z. de fchool. Science, z. de wetenschap. L | Scientifick, bv. wetenſchappelijk. Sciffard, z. mv. eene schaar. to Scoop, b. w. uithollen, graven, · uite to Scorch, b. w. zengen, verbran- don; ths scarching heat, de Gran-- dende hitte. to Scorn, b. en o. w. befpotter, a) versmaden. to Scramble, b. en o. w. klaute- rem; to scramble on shore, aan land klouteren; to scramble down, naar beneden klosteren. to Scrape, b. w. Sihaven, afë Sehrapen. to Scratch, o. w. krabben. to Scream, to scream out, 0. w. ſchreeuwen, gillen. to Screen, b. w. befchermen, (mat from),voor iets beſchutten. Screw, z. de Schroef. Scrit S E 443 SE Scruple, z. bedenkelijk geval, bedenkelijkheid. to Scruple, o. w. huiverig zijn, aarzelen, iess niet van zich kunnen verkrijgen. Scull, z. herfenpan, de ſchedel. Scullion, z. de keukenjongen. Sculpture, z. de beeldhouwkunst. Séa, z. de zee. Séacoast, z. de kast,het firand. Séa man, z. de zeeman, troos. Sea map, a. de zcekaart. + MA- to Search, b. w. doorzoeken, 2) o. w. met after, naar iets zoe- ken, navorſchen. Search, z. de waarvorfching, door. zoeking. Séa sick, by. zeeziek. Season, z. een der vier jaarge. tijden, 2) tijd, gefchikte tijd, in het algemeen; the fishing season, de vischtijd. to Season, b. w. toebereiden, aan · maken (van ſpijzen). | to Sée, b., zekor. my Seed, z her zoad; to take the seeds of the flax, het zaad van het vlas nemen. to Seek, o. w. (mes after en for), naar teis zoeke to Seéo, o. w. fchijnen. Seen, dw. van to See. to Séize, b. w. grijpen, vatten 2) overvallen; he was seized with a violent beadake, hij werd door zware hoofdpijn overval. len; 3) o. w. he seized on him, hij pakte hem aan. Seldom, bw. zelden. Self, (voornaamw) zelf; one's seif, zich zelf; from isself, var ait zich zelven. Selfdefence, z. do zelfverdediging Sèlfdenial, z. de zelfverloochening Self denying, bv. zelfverlooche- nend; to Sell, b. w. verkoopen, Selves, mv. van zelf; their own selves, zij zelven. Séasonable, bv. gelegen, sen beto hoorlijkės tijde geſchiedende. Scasonably, bw. gelegen, ten ber hoorlijken tijde geſchiedende. Séat, z. de zetel. Send, b. w. zarden; to send compliments, loten groetan; 2) to send forth, voortbrengen, veroorzaken. Sensation, z. het gevoel. to Seat, b. w. nederzetten; to sense, z. de zia, be seated, zitten. Second, bv. tweede. Secondary, bv. ondergeſchikt; a secondary intention, een min- der gewigtig voornemen. Secondly, bw. ten tweede. Sécret, bv. verborgen, onbekend; secret reasons geheime ro- denen. ? Secure, bv. veilig, zeker, fe kuar. Security, Z. veiligheid,1 zeker- heid. hat zintuig • 2) de gewaarwording; the sea- ce of shome, het gevoel van Schaamte, ) verftand; common sense, het natuurlijk verſtand, het gezond verftand. Sènseless, bv. gevoelloos, 2) 01 Sensibility, 2. de gevoeligheid. verftandig, enredeloos. Sensible, bv. gevoelig, 2) (mar- selijk, 3) merkelijk; sensible relief, merkelijke verligting, 4) bewust; to be sensible of a thing, overtuigd, bewust zijn van iets; 5) to make doen ban 800 SH SE begrijpes; to make the animal sensible, het dier doen be grijpen. Sensibly, bw. merkelijk, voelbaar Sent, dw, en o. t. van ra Send. va Sèotence, z. het vonnis, vonnis, hes oordail. Sentiment, a de meening, ker gevoelen. Sontimèeral, bv. govoelvol, over- dreven gevoelvol. Sèntinal, z. de fchildwacht. to Sèparate, o. w. ſchoiden, afo fcheiden, afzondsrez, 2) o. w. van elkander fcheiden; səpar ated from all mankind, van alle menfchen gefcheiden. Separately, bw. afzonderlijk. Serése, by, helder, 4) opgeruimd. Serenity, z de klaarheid, 2) op- gersimdheid. Sérias, z. de rei, regts; a series of thoughts, ecme reeks van ge- dachten. Serious, bv. ernstig. Seriously, bw. erußiglijk. Serpent, z. de flong. Servant, z. dienstbode; man ser- vant, knecht; maid servant, meid, dienstmeid. : to Serve, b. w. en o. w. dienen, bediencs, 2) voldoende zijn; it would not serve his turn, het was voor ziju oogmerk niet voldoende, 3) tot iets dienen, nuttig zijn, 4) de plaatsver" Wapgor} it would serve him as a cellar, het kom de plaats van oon kelder vervangon, $) be- handelen; I am rightly served, ik krijg loon ngar werken, ) de fpijzen opdragen. Service, z. de dienst. Sèrvile, bv. flaafsch, kruipond. Sèrvitude, 2. flavernij, dienst- baarheid. Sèssion, z. de zitting. to set, b. w. zetten, Felles; to set sail, onder zeil gaan, 2) in caniges toeftand plaatſen; to sat free, in vrijheid ftellen; to set on fire, in den brand file- ken, 3) met bijvoeging van onderfcheidene bw. to set about a thing, iets ondernemez; to set up a cry, een gefchreeuw ¡aosheffen ; \o. w. ondergaan; · the sun sets, de zon gaat on- der; to set out, vertrekken; to set to work, aas hot work gean. Set, z. de ondergang; the sun set, zonnen ondergang. to Settle, b. w. vastellen; motters, de zakon vereffenen. Settlement, z. ſchikking, over- ∙ocukomst, 2) volkplanting, kolonie. Sèven, bv. zevon. Seventeen, bv. zeventien. Seventeenth, by. zeventiendo, Seventh, bv. zevende. to Sèver, b. w. afzonderen; se vered of under, gefcheiden, verstrooid. Sèveral, bv. verfcheiden, onder- fcheiden. Sevére, bv. gestreng; - прод ose, Areng jegens iexand.. Severely, bw. mot geſtrengheid. Severity, z. de geftrengheid. to Sew, (pr. so), b. w. naaijen▾ Shade, z. de ſchaduw. to Shade, b. w. beschaduwon, 2) fchaduwen. Shadow. z. de ſchedaw. to Shadow to Shadow, o. w. befchaduwen. Shady, bv. beſekaduwd. to Shake, b. w. ſchudden; he shook his head, hij hudde zijn hoofd; to shake off, af- Schud- SH 445 SH fchudden; to shake hands, elk. ander de hand geven, (in. zonderh. bij het affcheid nemer) Skáke, z. de ſchok, floot; a hear ty shake, een duchtige fchok. to Shall, (onvoll werk.) zullen; I shall, ik zal, 2) bevoegd zijn, mogen; shall we, mogen wij? 3) moeten. Shallow, bv. ondiep. Shame, z. de fchande, a) de 2) Schaamte. Shameful, bv. ſchendelijk. to Shape, b. w. vormes. Shápe, z. de geftalte, de vorm. to Sháre, b. w. deelen, verdte- len; 2) o. w. deel hebben. Share, z. het deel, aandeel. Sharer, z. de deelnemer. Sharp, bv. fcherp; 2) [pits, puntig. to Sharpen, b. w. Scherpen, x) puntig maken. to Shatter, b. w. verbrijzelen. Shaving, z. het fehaven; the shav- ing beam, de fchaafboom; shav- ing knife, het fchaafijzer. She, (voornaamw.) zij, (fchepen worden in het Engelsch, als yrouwelijke z. met she aange- duid, en derhalve words her voornaamw. in zulk een geval door het vertaald). to Shed, b. w. forten, vergio- ten; to shed tears, tranen for. ten; to shed blood, bloed ver- giotos. Shèd, z. een afdak, loots. Sheep, z. het fchaap; mv. da fchapen. Sheet, z. een blad; a sheet of paper, com blad papier. Shelter, z. de ſchuilplaa's, e) cene woning, huisvesting. to Shelter, b. w. befchermen, be- dekken. to Shew, zie Show. to Shift, b. w. veranderen; to shift the sails, de zeilen wax- den, omzetten; 2) o. w. vera anderon; the wind shifts de wind verandert, 3) zich weren of zoeken te helpen; by shift ing for himself, door zich zel ven te helpen. Shift, z. meer of min mogelijke poging; to make a shift, track- ton, pogen, zich behelpen. to Sbíne, o. w. Schijnen; the sue shines, de zon ſchijnt, 27 blin- ken; they shone like polished silver, zij blenken als gepo* lijst zilver. Shine, z. de ſchiin, glans; the sun shine, moon shine, zinne fchijn, manefchijn. Shining, dw. blinkend, Ship, z. het fchip. Shipbuilder, z ſhaepstimmBTBICE, Shipbuilding, z. de fcheepsbouw. Schipwreck, z. Schipbreuk, to Shipwreck, o. w. fchipbreuk lijden. Shipwright, z. een scheepstim- Berman, Shirt, z. het manshemd. Shivering, z. het beyen, Bäderex. Shock, z. de fchok. to Shock, o. w. aan iets Booten. Shocking, dw. zanfiootelijk, afe fchuwelijk; a shocking sight. ees afschuwelijk ſchoewſpel. Shoe, z. de ſchoen Shell, z. 2. de fchelp, 2) de fchaat, | Shoćmaker, z. da ſchoenmaker. dop. to Shell, b. w. ſchillen, doppon; | Shook, o. én vaz to Shake. Shòne, dw. en o. t van to Shine. to shell pease, erwiem doppen. to Shoốc b. w. Schietem, 2} drine 446 S I SH dringen, fchicten; o. w. a beam shot through, cen fraal schoot (of drong) door. Shop, Z eene werkplaats; a smith's shop, een fmits winkel, sene fmederij. Shore, z. de zesoever, wal, kust, het firand; to go on shore, aan wal gaan. Strub, z. cen struik. Shrunk, dw. en o. t. var to Shrink. to Shadder, o. w. falderen, ijzen. to Shun, b. w. vermijden, vlieden. to shùr, bɔ w. fluiten, toedven wegfluiten, to shut up, ogão одно fluiten. Shy, bv. fchuw. Sick, bv. zisk, ompasfelijk; to fall sick, ziek worden, s) mis- felijk he grew sick, hij werd } misfelijk. Short, bv. en bw. kort, korte.: lijk; in a short time, in kor- sen tijd; to stop short, fil Baan; in short, kortom. to Shorten, b. w. verkorten; e) | Sickly, bv. ziskelijk. o. w. korter worden, afnemen, | Šickness, z. ziekte. minderen. s) Shortly, bw. in kort, in korien sije. Shortsighted, bv. bijziende, 2) kortzigtig van verftand. Shot, dr. en o. l. van to Shoot. Shòt, 2. het ſchot, het schieten, a) kogels; small shot, hagel, fchroot. ao Sickle, z, de fikkel. Side, z. de zijde ven ists; the side of a hill, het afhangon van eenen berg; the seaside, de kost, zeckant; near the roadside, langs, bezijden dan ·weg, 2) tegenover Baards par- tijen; on both sides, van we. derskant, belderzijds. Siége, z. de belegering, het beleg. zo Shove, b. w. Schuiven, ſchof Siéve, z. de zocf. felen. Shovel, z. con fchop, fchoffel, Should, o. t. van Shall, t. van Shall, zoude; I should, ik zoude; we should, wij zeuden. Shoulder, z. de fchouder, 2) het borstuk, de bont van een ge- flagt dier. o Shout, o. w. fchreeuwen van to blijdschap, juichsn. Shodt, z. het gejaich. Shouting, z het gejuich. | to Sift h. w. ziften. > to Sigh, o. w. zachten. Sigh, z. de zucht. Sighing, z. hat zuchten, Sight, z. het gezigt, e) hat zien; at the first sight, op her cerfe gezigt; to get sight of a thing, iets te zien krijgen; to lose sight of a thing, iess air het oog verliezeng to have a full sight of a thing, iets geheel overzien. 30 Show, b. w. aantoonen, wij | Sighted, bv. ziende; shortsighted, zen, laten zien. kortzigtig. Shower, z. eens regenbui, con| Sigu, z. bet teeken, fein. fortregen. Shown, dw. van to Show. to Shrink, o. w. hevig ontßelien, ontroerd zijn, ijzang to shrink back, serug doinzen, to Sign, b. w. teekenen, betee- kenen, 2) teskenen, ondorioe- komen. Signal, z. het fein, reeken, de jenzo. Sig- SI Signification, z. de beteekenis. to Signify, b. w. beduiden, bo- teakomen; the points sigaify the sandbacks, de ftippen duiden de zandboeken aan; what does it signify? wat betekent het? Silence, z. Bilzwijgen, 2) de Ailte, als tusfchen w. silence! fill zwijg! Silent, bv. ftil, 2) zwijgend. Silently, bw. fil, 2) zwijgend. Silly, bv. dom, onnoozel. Silver, z. het zilver. Similar, bv. gelijkvormig. Simple, bv. eenvoudig, enkel, 2) kangtoloss. Simple, z. een botterik, domoor, bosmuil. Simplicity, z. de eenvoudigheid. Sie, z. de zonde. Stuce, bw. fedort dien tijd, a) voor, federt; long since, voor langen tijd; some time since, federt eenigen tijd. Slace, (voegw.) omdat, wijl. Sincére, bv. oprogt, eerlijk. Sincerely, bw. opregt, eerlijk ; if you sincerely repent, indien uw berouw ernſtig is. Sincèrity, z. opregtheid. to Sing, b. en 0. w. zingen; the birds sung their morning lays, de vogelen zongen hun mor. genlied; he sung with a loud voice, hij zong met luider fremme. to Singe, b. w. zengen, brandon. ver- Single, bv. eenzaam, enkel. to Slagle out, b. w. afzonderen. Singular, bv. eenvoudig, 2) zon. derling. Singularist, z. de zonderlinge. Singularity, 2. de zonderlingheid, zeldzaamheid. SL S L ·447 to Sink, o. w. zinken; his son was ready to sink within him hij frond als verſteend. Sir, z. mijn haar. to Sit, o. z. zitten; to sit downy mederzitten. Situated, bv. gelegen, liggende. Situation, a. de ligging, 2) de toestand, S.x, bv. zes. Sixteenth, bv. zestiende. Sixth, bv. zesdo. Sixty, bv. zestig. Size, z. grootte, lengts, 2)`gếu Stalte. Sketch, z. eens teekening, onis werp. Skill. z. bekwaamheid, behen- digheid. to Skim, o. w. ligt over heen loo- pen; the ball skimmed along the surface of the water, de kogol vloog over de oppervlakte van het water. Skla, z. het vel, de huid. co Skin, b. w. villen, het vel of firoopen. Skinner, z. een leertouwer, hus devester. Skirt, z. de fchoot van een kleed, 2) het uiterſte of einde van iets; the skirt of a wood, hop buiten hoat. to Skream, zis to Scream. Sky, z. de hemel, het luchtreia. to Slack, to slake, b. w. blase fchen; slaked lime, geblaschte kalk. Sláin, dw. van to Slay. to Slap, b. w. mes de vlakke hand flaan. Slave, z, sem flsaf. Slavery, z. de ſlavernij. to Slay, b. w. doodes, doodßlaan. verflaan. 003 448- SO SN zo Sleep, o. w. flapen; 2) b. w. verflapen, doorflapen; to sleep away the sultry hours, de heet- fte uren verflapon. Sleepy, bv. faporig. Sleeve, z. de mouw. Slender, bv. dun, buigzaam. Slèpt, o. t. en dw. ven to Sleep. Slice, z. seno fnede, een afge- Ineden plat Byk. Sniff, z. de Jnuiftabak. So, ba. zoo; why so? waarom? to Sóak, bw. weeken, doopen, Foppen. to Sóar, o. w. zich in de hoogte verheffen, vliegen; they soar the water, zij vliegen boven het water. to Sòb, o. w. fnikken, weenen. Sóber, bv. marig. $light, bv. dun, 2) zwak, onbe | Sobriety, z. matigheid, nuch- duidend. to Slip, o. w. uitglijden; his foot slipt, zijn voes flipte uis, gleed uit. terheid Sóciableness, z. gezelligheid. Social, bv. gezellig, 2) maate Schappelijk. Society, z. de maatschappij. Sòd, z. de zoode, zoodenbank, 2) de sardkluit. Soft, bv. zacht, week. 3leóp, z. de floep. Słów, bv. langzaam. Slowly, bw. langzaam; his work went on slowly, zijn werk ging langzaam voort. Slumber, z. de fluimering. sly, bv. flim, listig. Small, bv. klein, 2) gretig. Smallshot, z. hagel, ſchroof. Smattering, z. eene oppervlakki ge kunde; he had got a stato tering of the english, bij had een mondvol engelsch geleerd. to Smèll, b. en o. w. rieken, ruiken. Smell, z. de reuk. to Smile, o. w. glimlagchen. Smiling, z. het glimlagchen. Smith z. de mid. Smoke, z de rook. to Smoke, smoak, o w.rooken; a). w tabak rooken, 3) roo- ken; to smoke meat, vleesch rooken. Smooth, bv offen, glad. to Smooth, b. w. glad, offer maken. Sudre, z. de val, de ftrik. to Snách, b. w. vatten, grijpen. Spów, z. de freeuw; as driven. snow, gelijk vorſche ſneeuw. to Soften, b. w. zacht of week maken, 2) verzachten, ver- Zoeten, verteederen. Softness, z. de zachtheid, zacht. moedigheid, a) de weekelijkheid. Soil, z. de grond.. Solace, b. w. verkwikken; he solaced himself, hij verkwikte- zich zelven. Sóldier, z. de foldaat. Sole, z. de zool, (voet-offchoem 2001). Sole, bv. alleen, canig. Solely, bw. alleenlijk, Sòlemn, bv. plogpig. Solemnity, z. plegtigheid, ernst, wrardigheid. to Solicit, b. w. verlangen, aan- houdend verzoeken. Solicitation, z. verlangen, verzoek. Solicitons, bv.-angftig, bekom. merd, zorgvuldig, ongerust. Sòlid, bv. vast, deurzaam j mas- sive, solid gold, massief goud. Solitary, bv. eevizacm; a solitary walk, een afgelegen wandelweg. So. SO 449 SP Sòlitude, z. de eonzaamheid. Some', bv eenige; some hundred miles, eenige honderd mijlen ; in some measure, eenigermase. Somebody, z. iemand. Somehow, bw. op de eene of de andere wijze. Something, z. iets. . Sometimes, bw. ſoms, famtijds. Somewhat, bw. iets, iet of wat, eenigzins. Somewhere, bw. ergens. Son, z. zoo. Sòng, Zing zong, led Soon, bw. proeg, kort daarna, weldra. Soóp, z. foep, sop. - to Sooth, b. w. verzoeten, ver zachten, 2) bevredigen. Sorcerer, z. een toovenaar. Sorceress, z. eene tooverss. Sóre,bv. gewond,gekwetst, kwaad; sore eyes, kwade oogen. Sorely, bw. ſmartelijk; sorely grieved, diep bedroefd. Sorrow, z. droefheid. Sorrowful, bv. bedroefd, trea- rig, ellendig. Sorry, bv. bedroefd; I am sorry for it, het spijt mij; he was not sorry, hij was niet be droefd, het berouwde hem niesi Sört, z. føort, aard. • Source, z, de bromi South, z. het zuiden; the south- de fille zuiazee. Southeast, z. het zuidoosten'; bv. zuidoost. sea, Southwest, z. het zaidwesten; br. zuidwest. to Sow, b. w. zaaijem Spáce, z. de raïmţei | Spacious, bv. reim. Spáde, z. de Spade, de fchop: Spaniard, z. de ſpanjaard. Spaniel, z. de waterhond, krui- hond. | Spanish, bv. Spaansch. to Spáre, b. w. sparen, bespa- ren, 2) verfchoonen; to spare one's life, zijn leven ſparen 3) overhouden; I could have spared so much time, ik kors zoo veel tijd overgehouden heb- ben, 4)riess kunnen onsberen; he spared it from his own mouth, hij ſpaarde kes ait zijn sigon mond. t Spark, z. da vonk. to Sparkle, o. w. fonkelami Spatterdåshes, z. mv. flopkouſen:- to Speak, o. en b. w. ſpreken. Spear, z. een ſpies, piek, ſpeer. Spècies, z: de foort, aard; of my own species, van mijnen eigenen aard: Sovereign, z. de landvoogd, op Specification, 2. eene uitvoerig perkeer. lijst, inventaris. Sought, o. t. en dw. rap to Seek, Spèctacle, z een ſchouwſpak, toow- vas -Scal, zi de ziel. neol, gezigt. Sound, bv. gezond, 2) juist; a Spectator, ze aanschouwer, sound judgment, een juist oor--Speed, z. do spoed, haast; to deel. Sound, zi de klank, het geluid. to Sound, o. w. klinken, luiden;- 3)b w.onderzocken,navorſchen Bour, by, zasr; sour milk, zare really. make speed, zich haasten. to Spend, b, wi verteeren, pation, afmasten; he was spent with fatigue, hij was gehee vermoeid, 3) tijd verfillen; ho, spårt eight days at this wo`kys Oo 3° Ο 450 ST SP hij bragt acht dagen met dit | Sprightliness, z. vlugheid, opgo. werk toe; he spent his time in running about, hij bragt zij- men vijd door met rondloopen. Spent, o. t. en dw. van-to Spend. Spice, z. Specerij. Spider, z. de Spin, ſpinnekop.. to Spill, b. w.ftorten, vergieton. to Spin, b. w. Spannen. Spinner, z. de fpinner, ſpinger. Spirit, z. de geest, het Spook ;. 2) mv. levensgeesten. Spiritless, bv. moedeloos, meer- flagtig. Spit, z. een braadſpit. to Spit, b. w. aan hes ſpit fekan.. Spice, z. fpijt; in spite of, ten Spijt van; in spite of their united strength, in weerwil van hunne voreenigde mags. Splèndour,ż, de glans, pracht, prenk: zo Split, b. w. ſplijten. Split, z. eens Spleet. to Spòil, b. w. bederven §. ver. mielen. Spoke, o. t. van to Speak.. 9poken, dw. van to Speak.. Spoón, z. lepel. Sport, z. een spel, vrolijkheid; for sport's sake, wit kortswijl. Spòrtingly, bw. gekfcherende, kortswijlend, ſchertfend.. Spòs, ze de vlek, de plaats; upon ་་ the spot, op de plaars zelys.. Spout, z. eene buis, roer, pijp; 2) a waterspont, eene wolkbreuk.. so Sprawl, o. W. Spartelen'; be laid him sprawling iu the sand, kij leide hem ſpartelend in het - zondi̇neder.. no-Spread, be we aitbreiden, ver•- Spreiden,,(mes: out,, 2) 03 WI zich uisßrekkenz,, zisha yer- fpreideas. ruimdheid, luchtigheid. .. to Spring, o. w. Springen; to spring out of the ground, wit den grond opspringen; 2) to spring a leak, een lek krijgen, lek worden (van ſchepen). Spring, z. de lento, 2) de bron. Springwater, z. bronwater. to Sprinkle, b. w. ftrooijen, foren- kelen; he sprinkled his meat over with salt, hij baſprenkel- de zijn vleesch met zoat. Sprung, dw. en 0. I. VAN τσ Spring, î Span, dw. en o. t. van to Spin. Spur, z. de spoor; f. aandrang. to Spy b. w. ontdekken,.ontwas; ren, a) aitſpieden. Square, b. vierhoekig. Square, z. esn winkelhaak. to Square, b. w. vierhoekig man ken, behouwen ; to square bricks, bakfieonen vierkant maken. to Squeeze, b. w. uitdrukken, drakken. to Stagger, o. w. tuimelen. Sáid, o. t. yan to Stay. to Schin, b. w. bevlekken; stained with blood, met bloed bevleks. Scake, z. een paal. Stairs, z, mv. com trap, de trap- pon. 7 Stalk, z. de feel, de halm. Stall, 2. de fřál. to Stamp, b. w. ftampen, met dem voet of eenig ander worktuig g they stamp it one with elbows, zij drukken het met de allebo- gen uita to Stand, o. wì ftâan; to stand- on end, øversinde ſtaan, 2) im zekeren, toefand zijng to stads in need of a thing iets neodig habbeoga 3)_anship stands in fore SAN ST 451 ST an island, een schip zeilt op Mo Steer, o. w. fturen; 2) b. v. J sen eiland aan. Star, z. de far, fer. to Stáre, o. w. faren, får aan zien. Starry, bv. geffernd; the starry canopy of heaven, de sterren hemel. to Start, o, w. verbaasd fäan 2) met up, opvliegen, plotfe- lijk opſpringen, 3) plotfelijk voor den dag ſpringen; a tear started from his eyes, sentra in ontfprong zijn oog, 4).zich verheffen, zich opdoen; some new obstacle starts in view; -een nieuw belerfel doet zich op. to Starle, o. w. fchrikken, dein- zen, 2) b. we fchrik´of vrees asnjagon. to Siàrve, o. we verkongeren. Státe, z. de faat, toefland 2) de Raat, het rijk; a minister of state, san Fastidienaar. to Stay, o. we in eenigen torftand blijven; to stay with his parents, bij zijne ouders blijvex; he could not stay in it, hij kon er nies in blijven. " Stáy, z. het verblijf“. Srèadfast, bv - vast, onbewege- lijk. = Steadfastly, bw. vast, onbewege. lijk že his eyes were steadfastly ixed, zijne oogen waren-ft¡¡f gerigt. - to Stéal, b. w. fèlènz- Steel, z-flaak, 2) convuurfleet. Steep, bv. fèil. to Steep, b. w.indoopen, béyock- tigen, wesken.. Steeple, z. de kerktoren, klokà to steer one's course, zijnew koers nemen.. Steerage, z. de achterfteven van het fchip, de ftuurfteel. Stèm, ze de ftam. Stench; z. de ftank. to Step, o. w. ſtappen; to step to a place, naar eene plaass · gaan; he stopt behind the hedge,. hij ging achter de heg. Sièp, zeene fchrede, een pas& Støp, 2) de trappen, 3) ds voestrap. Stèpt, o t. van to Step. Sièra, z. de achterſteven van Bef ` jchip a stern, van achteren. Steward, z. de hofmeester; high steward of the household, 38- opperhofmeester. . : Stick, z. een fiok, ſtof, 2) een timmerhout, 3) een suinſtok, to Stick, b. w.ſtokam; 2) 0. W. freken, zitton; it stick so fast het zat zoo vast, frak`zoo vast. Stiff, br. fsijf, onbuigzsAT. to Stife, b. wo ſtikken, dempeus. to stifle the blood, her blood despen. Still, bw. nogs nog ſteeds, 205 Gjenog cos Keg too. Still, bv. fiil', zonder beweging ; he stood still, hij-ſtend feil, 3) 2) zonder gerass. Stilness, z: da frilce; the stilbess of the night, de fiiite van den nachs to Sting, b. w: ſtókönɛ Sting, z. de angel, to Stir, b. w. in beweging 201- ton; to stir a mais, sené masfa omreeren; 360, w zich bewe. gen; he did not stir from the spot, hij kwam sitt yan də: pleama. 10.45 SACKS 452 ST ST Siòck, z. een blok; the scutching stocks, 2) een voorraad; a great stock of knowledge, eene groote geleerdheid, veel kande. Stocking, z. de kous. Stole, o. t. van po Steal. Stomack, z. de mang; his empty his empty stomack, zijne ledige maag, 2) eetlust - terror had taken away his stomack, de fchrik had hem allen cerlust benotes, Stone z. de Steen; precious stones, odelgesteenten; bv. van fioen, Steenen; a stone knife, een Steenen mes; a stone wedge, een ſteenen breckijzer. Stood, o, oven to Stand. to Stop, b. w. ophouden, régen honden; he stopt him from fel ling down, hij verhinderde dat hij viel, 2) Stoppon, verftop- peni 3) 0. w. ſtil ſtean, blij- ven staan, ophouden; he stopt short, he stopt here, hier bleef hij staan, hier hield hij op. Stop, z. ſtilſtand; to make a stop, fril houden, to put a stop te a thing, iets ftaken, er een einde aan maken: t Stopped, stopt, . t. van to Stop. Stóre, * een woorraad, eeno mo- nigte; a storehousa; een ma- gazija, pakhuis. Storm, z. de fiori; 2) f. to take? his castle by storm, zijn kas- sel fformenderhand innom GMT Stormy, by stormachtig. Stóry, z. de verdieping, (vanN OEN oen huis), 2) hes gertalfals Stout, bv. ftark; a stout young fellow, en wakkere klosbe jongen. Sióve, z. de kogchel to Stow, b. w. op zijne behoor. bajke plaais légzens J to Straggle, o. w. randzwerve 85 Straggling, z. het sondzwerven. Straight, bv. regt. Straight, z. de zooëngte; the straight of calais, het kanaxj. Strand, z. het ſtrand, de kust. to Strand, o. w ſtranden, op het firand raken. Stránge, bv. zeldzaam, zonder - ling, ougome.n, Stranger, z. de vreemdeling; to be a stranger co fear, geene vrees kennou. to Stangle, b. w. verftikkan g wurgen. Stratagem, Z eene krijgslist, to Stréam, o.w.ftroomen, vlosijen Street, z. de firaat. ་་ Strength, z. de kracht, ſterkte. to Strengthen, b. w. verferken. to Streich, b, w. uitſtrekken z out one's wearied limbs, zijne matre leden uittrekken ; one's hand', de hand uitsteken; 2) o. w. zich aitftrekken. Strict, bv. naauwkeurig ; strict obedience, frikis gehoorzaam. hoid. * Stride, z. cene ſchrede. to Strike, b. w. ſlaan, kloppen ; he strack his meat, hij klopta: zijn vleesch; 2) o w. the ligh ning struck into the tree, hos weerlichs floeg in dan boom; 3) to strike upon a seabank, Branden. String, z. een froer, koord. to String, bw afhalen; to string beans, boogen afhalen. to Strip, b. we de bedekking weg n o = men, a) zich uitkloeden, (mes off), 3) ſchillen', pollen; her fstff hij deed or the bark, do fskil van of Strige SU 453 SU Striped, bv. geftreept; striped lí- nen, gestreept lianen. to Strive, o. w. freven, pogen, trachten, zijne krachten aan- wenden. Strike, z. een fag; a stroke of fortune, een ongeluk, een flag. to Stroke, b. w Arelen. Stròng, bv. fterk ; strong liquors, fterke dranken. Strongly, bw. krachtig, nadruk- kelijk. } Strove, o. t. van to Strive. Struck, o. t. en dw. van to Strike; with confusion, befchaamd; with an idea, plotfelijk op sene gedachte komende. to Struggle, o. w. wortelen, in sweeftrijd zijn; without strug- gle, zonder wederftand. Stuck, dw. eo. t. van to Stick. to Study, b. w. faderen, Ba™ denken. Stuff, z. de Roffe. ! to Scuff, b. w. Hoppen, opftoppen. to Srùn, b. w. vandoovan, 2) doen outftellen. Stùng, o. t. van to Sting. Stupefaction, z. ontftelsenis, ver. bazing. Stupid, bv. dom, bot. - Stupidity, z. de domheid.n to Stutter, o.. w. flotteren, fa- melen; with a stuttering voice, met eene flotterende ftem. Subject, bv. onderworpen; sùb- ject to terror, aan dwaling.on. derworpen. Subjest, z. de onderdaans Subjèction, z. de onderwerping. Sublime, bv. verhoven. Submission, z. de onderwerping. to Submit. b. w. onderwerpen; 2) o. w. zich onderwerpen s to the will of providence, zich aan Gods wil onder werpen. to Subside, o. w. vallen, afne- men; the water subsided, her water nam af, lies af. to Subsist, o. w. beftaan, 2) to leven hebben; to subsist on a thing, van iets leven. Subsistence, z. de voortduring, 2) hot onderhoud, de levenso middelen. Subsiscure, z. de plaatsvervanger.. Subterráneous, bv. onderaardsch. to Succeed, o. w. opvolgen ; one- another, op elkander volgen, 2) fagen, gelukkig zijn in iets; he succeeded in his endeas - vours, hij flagde in zijne po- gingen, 3) gelukken, it succee- ded, het gelukte. Succèss, het gelukkig gevolg, goede uitſlag.. Succèssful, be gelukkig. Succession, z. de opvolging; ◄ of the days, het vervolg van - dagen. Succèssive, bv. achtereenvolgendő Such, bv. zalk; suchanoise, zalk- een geraas. to Suck, b en 0. w. zuigen; to suck on, sitzuigen. Sudden, bv. plotfelijk, OMVET- wacht. Suddenly, bw plotselijk, onver wachts. to Suffer, b. en os wo lijden, uit- taan, 2) duiden, verdragen, 3) 1-ten, geſchieden; which be suffered to perish, welke hij liet omkomen. Sufferance, z. de fiart; het om gemak. Sufferer, z. de lijder; these poor sufferers deze arme ongeluk- kigen. · O US SAF. 454 SU SU Suffering, z. het bijden, het on- gemak, de fmart. to Suffice, o. w. genoeg zijn, toereikend zijn. Sufficient, bv. genoeg, toeraikend. Sufciendy, bw. genoog kend. Sugar, z. de fuiker. FOOT BI- Sugar cane, het fulkerries. te Suggèst, b. w. ingeven, in den zin goven, bijbrengen. Süit, z. een kleeds a suit of clothes, een volledig klced. to Súit, 0.w.passen, zich ſchik kon; 2) b. w. to suit one's pai late, sangenaam op de tong zijn, wel fmaken; it suited their strength, het was aan hun- ne krashtem goevenredigd Suitable, bv. ovenredig, gepast. Sullon, bv. ongelukkig,fchadelijk Sultry, bv. 2081, heos. Sam's z. da fom, het geheel. Sammer, z. de zomer. Summer clothes, z. mv. de zomer. kleederen. | Superstition, z. het bijgalanga Superscitious, br. bijgeloovig- dùpper, z de avondmaalrijd. Supplicant, z. con fupplisus, iss #ood die verzoeks of fmeeki. to Sùpplicate, b. w. fmecken; in a supplicating posture, in eene fmookende houding, to Supply, b. w. esnig gebrek aanvullen, 2) de plaats van iots vervangen; to supply one's place, iemands pleats beklee. den, 2) toereiken. Support, z. de Roux, onderfßen- ning, e) het onderhoud, da noo draft. so Support, b. w. onderßeuusn, bijſtaan, 2.) onderhouden voeden. Sapportable, bv. dragelijk. Supporter, z. de ondersteuner. co Suppose, b. w. onderſtellon j voor onderſiellen, a) geloover, vermocden, wanen; bis suppo- sed happiness, zijn gewaand golak. Summit, z. de top, defpits,(van Supposition, z. de voorondera conen herg). to Sammon, b. w. met up, opci fchen; he summoned up all dis strength, bij verzamelde alle zijne krachten. Sun, z. de zon. Sunbeam, z. de zonnestraal. Sànday, 2. zoudag. Sting, o. t. van to Sing. Sunrise, z de opgang der zon. Sunshine, z. de zonneschiju. Superflúity, z. de overvloed. Supéranons, bv. overvloedig. Superior, bv. hooger, 2) over- treffende, meerder. Superiority, Z de meerderhold, 2) heerschappij. Supernatural, bv. bovennatuurlijk. frelling.. to Suppress, b. w.onderdrukken, nederérøkken; suppressed by grief, door droefheid gedrakt. Supreme, br. has, de, hoogsteg. voornaamßte, opporfie; the so- preme being, hes opperwezen. Súre, bv. gewis; I am sure $ ik ben verzekerd; to be sure, zakerlijk; 2) be sure to trust in God, vertrouw boven alles op God. Súre, bw. zekerlijk, zonder twijfel Surely, bw. zekerlijk, zonder twijfel. Surety, z. de zekerheid. Surface, z. de oppervlakte. Surmise, z. het vermoeden. “ S W 455 SY to Surmount, b. w. boven komen; to Surpàss, b. w. overtrefin. Surprise, z. do verbazing, ver woedering, vorresting i to surprise, b. w verrasfòn, 2) verbazen, verwonderen; to be surprised, verbaasd zijn. Surprising, bv. vorbezend, won- derlijk, verrasſend. Swàm, o. t. van to Swim, to Swear, o, w. zwoeren. Swear, z. het zweer, the deadl sweat, het doodzwest. Surprising, bw. verbazend, won Sweeping, z. derlijk, verrassend. to Surrender, o. w. zith over- geven. to Surround, b. w. omringen, in- faiten to Sarvéy, b. w. overzien, het opzig: hebben. to Survive, o. w.en b. w. over- loven Surviver, z. de langstlevende. to Suspect, b. w. wantrouwen, argwaan hebben, kwaad ver- mecden of vreezen, Suspected, bv. verdacht. Suspense, z. de onzekerheid. Suspicion, z. de argwaan, ach- terdocht. to Sweat, ở. w. zweeted, 2.) in het zweet, oan her zweet zweetend maken, doen zweer tem; to sweat the skina, de hui- dan doen zweeten. Sweeping, z. mv. het voegfel ſtof (van granen, enz) m) Swees, bv. zeet, aangenaam. to Swell, o, w. zwellen, opzwel, lon, a) b. w. doen opewellen, opblaean; when the wind swell- ed the sail, torn de wind de zeilen deed zwellen. Swift, bv. fael, vlug. Swiftness, z de fnelheid. to Swim, o. w.zwommen, drijven. Swimming, z. het zwemmen, Swizzerland, Switzerland, z. Zwits ferland. Swúllen, dw. van to Swell. Swoon, 2 de inmagt; he fell into a swoon, hij vielis onmagt. Sword, z. de degen. Suspicions, bv. achterdochtig, Swóre, 9. t. vas to Swear. 2) verdacht. to Sustain, b. w. onderhouden, in ftand hondez. Sissenance, z. de onderſtand orderſteuning, het ouderhoud. to Swallow, b. w. inflokkes; she could not swallow any thing, zij kon niess binnen krijgen, 2) (mer op), van een ofgroad, verfioden, inzwelgev; swal- lowed up by the waves, door de golven ingefekt. J Syllable, z. cene lettergreep. to Sympathise, o w. medegovo a» lem, medelijden, medelijden hebben. Symparky, z. het madegovaol, the delijden. " Symptom, z. toeval in came ziak- to, a) iesken kenteeken symptom of life, eon cookem ren leven. T. ΤΑ TE Table, 2. tafel, 2) ſchrijftafel. | Task, 2, de taak, het werk. Téil, z, de ftaart. Tailed, bv. gestaart, met eon ftaart a long tailed ape, cef asp met een langen ftaart. Tailor, Snijder. Ze to Taste, b. w. proeven; 2)0. W. 4 esnon fmask (van iets) heb- ben, naar iets fmaken. Tasteless, bv. Smakeloos. een kleedaymaker, | Tónight, o.t.en dw. van to Téach. Taway, bv. geel, tanig, kopera kleurig. to Táins, O w. beginnen te be- derves; the meat was alrèndy | tainted, het vleesch was reeds aangestoken. ་ to Take, b. w.women, weg no- mer to take leave, affcheid mesen; he took his aim, hij mikiej to take a walk, a tour,, a journey, cene wandeling, een toerije, esno reis doen; to take place, plaats vinden; to take a thought, eens gedachte hebben to take fire, vuur Dai- ten, in brand geráken; to be taken ill, ziek worden; to take ་ Tax, z. eene belasting. Téa, z. Téa, z. de thee; a dish of tea, a cup of tea, een kopje thee. Teacup, z. com theekopje. to Téach, b. w. onderwijzen,les. ren (aan iemand), Teacher, z. de onderwijzer, leer- meester. Tear, z. de traan. to Téar, b. w. ſcheuren, vera fcheuren; to tear to pieces, iz fiukkon fcheuren. tɔ Téase, b. w. kwelles, plagen, lastig vallen. the advantage, de gelegenheid | Tédious, bv. lastig, vervelend. waarnemen, it will take up rauch time, het zal veel tijds vereiſchen; to be taken with a → ching, zích một lots áruk be- zig houden. Tále, z. de vertelling. to Talk, o. w. Spreken, praten, babbelen. | Tédiousness, z. lastigheid, ver- velendheid. Teeth, Tov. van Tooth. Télescope, z. de teleskoop, vET- rekijker. to Tell, o. en b. w.zeggen, vor• tellen, verhalen. Temperance, 2. de matigheid. Tall, bv. lang, groot, (van ge Temperate, bv. matig, gematigd. ftalte). Tallow, z. talk, vet, smeer. Táme, bv. tom. to Táme, b. w. tommen $4171 maken. Tan, z. run, looijers run. Tanner, z. een looijer. Tanpit, z. een looijers put. to Tap, b w. eenen zachten flag met de hand geven. Tartar, z. een tartaar, (volk van Azie). Tempest, z. de ftorm, het on" weder. Temple, z. de tempel. to Tempt, h. w. lokken, tergen, in verzoeking brengen, vor. leidens to be tempted to ima◄ giue, bijna denkon. Temptation, z. verzoeking. Tèn, bv. tion. Ten times, tienmaal. w. doelen, to Tend, o. 0. W. loopen. aït. *Rég• ΤΗ 457 1 TH Tender, bv. zacht, marw, 2), teeder, from his tender youth, van zijne teedore jeugd. Tenderly, bw. tecderlijk, 2) wee· kelijk; tenderly brought up, weekelijk opgevoed. Tenderness, z. teederheid. Teneriff, z. het eiland Teneriffe, ten westen van Afrika. Tènt, z. de tent. Teath, bv. tiende. to Terminate, b. w. eindigen aangrenzen. Tèrrible, bv. fchrikkelijk, vrees- felijk. Terribly, bw.fchrikkelijk, vrees- felijk. to Terrify, b. w. verfchrikken, vrees aanjagen. Territory, z. grondgebied, land. freek. Terror z. de fchrik, vreos; struck with terror, van ſchrik overmeesterd. to Testify b. en o. w. betuigen, bevestigen, getuigen. Testimony, z. getuigenis. Tèxt, z. de tekst. (in tegenftel ling van de aanmerkingen). Tèxture, z. het weeffel, maakſel. Thámes, z. de Teems, eene ri- vier in Engeland. Than, (voegw. volgende op den vergel. trap), dań. to Thank, b. w. danken, be danken. Thanks, mv. dank, dankbetui- ging to give hearty thanks, har. telijk danken. Thankful, bv. Zankbaar, erken- selijk. Thankfully, bw. dankbaar, er» kentelijk. That, (voegw.) opdat, dat. Thatch, z. een ſiroodak. The, (bepal. lidw.), de, het; a) bij vergelijkingen ; the more, des te meer. Thee, (perf. voornaamw. in den 3 en 4 naamval) u. Their, (bezittel, voornaamw.Ykun, hunne, haur, hare, derzelver. Them, (perf. voornaamw. in den 3 en 4 naamv.) hun, hen, haar. Themselves, (voornaamw.) hem zelven, hun zelven, zich. Thèn, bw. dan, alsdan, 2) daarom. Thence, bw. from thence, thence, van daar. Thére, bw. daar; there was once daar was eens. Therefore, bw. daarom, deswegen, Thereof, bw, daarvan. Thereupon, bw. daarop. Thése, (aanw, voornaamw. meerv, van) this, daze. They, (perf. voornaamw. mv.) ziją Thick, bv. dik, digt. Thickness, z. de dikte. Thief, z. de dief. Thigh, z. de dij, het dikke san het boen; the thiglibone, hes dijbson. Thin, bv. dus, zwak. Thine, voorn. de, het uwe,douwen. Thing, z. een ding, zeker iets, Cook even als in het hollandsch, medelijden of verachting sit te drukken; the poor thing hat arme ding), 0 123 to to Think, o. w. denken, met on, aan iets, aar iemand; think on a thing, on a person. Thinking, z. het denken. Third, bv. derde. Thirdly, bw. sem derde, în de derde plaats. That, (voornaamwoord), die, dar, 2) (in plaats van which, who, whom,) welke, die, dien.' P p PP Thirst, 458 TO TH. Thirst, z. de dorst. Thirsty, bv. dorstig. Thirteenth, bv. dertiende. Thirtieth, bv. dertigste. Thirty, by dertig. This, (aanw. voorn.) dit, deze. Thither, bw. daarheen. Tho', werkort van Though, koc- wel, fchoon, offchoon. Thors, z. doorn. Thòrough, bw. door en door, door ket geheel; a thorougbpaced a thorougbpaced husbandman, een door en door ervaren landbouwer. Thoroughly, bw, geheel on al, door en doer. Those, (aanw. voorn.) mv. dan that, dio, ge12.8. Thou, (voorn.) gij. Though, zie Tho'. Thought, oto en dw. van to Think Thought, z. de gedachte. Thoughtless, bv. gedachteloos, opbedachs aam. Thousand, by. duizend. Thread, z. garen, draad,co&W. Threat, z. dreiging. Threaten, b. w. dreigen, be- dreigen Three, by. drie. to Thrash, trash, b. w. dorfchen. Threw, o. t. van to Throw. Thrice, bw, drismalen, drismeal. Thro, in plaats van Through, gic Through, Thróst, 2. de keel. Through, vz. door, door middel yan ; 2)bw, door,door en door, gie Thorough, Throughout, vz, en bv. door en door, door het geheel. to Throw, b.w.werpen; it threw him into a consumption, hij viel | daardoor in eens teringziektè, 2) Booten. to Thrust, b. w. ftooten, fom® pen, indringen. Thrust, z. een foot, fomp. Thùmb, z. de duim. Thunder, z. de donder; thunder- clap, donder flisg. Thunderer, z. de donderaar. Thursday, z. donderdag. Thus, bv. 200 Thus, bv. zoo, alzoo, dus. Thy, voorn. uw, awe. Thyself, voora. gij zelf, u zelven. Tide, z. de vloed, het tij, de ebbc. Tidings, z. mv. de narigt, het berigt, de tijding. to Tie, b. w.binden, vastbinden. Tie, z. de band. Tiger, z. de tijger. Tight, bv. digt, vast, vast, ferk, Tile, z. de sigchel, dakpan. Till, voegw. tot; till now, fet na toe, tot dat. Time, z. de tijd; the time to come, de toekomst, 2) maal, reis; three times, driemolon, driemaal; five times, vijfma- len; an hundred times, derdmas). hon- Timidity, z. de befchroomdheid. Timorous, bv. vreesachtig. Tinder, z. ronder. ▾ to Tire, b. en o. w. vermoeijen, moede maken, moede worden, vervelen; to be tired of a thing, esne zaak moede zijn. Tiresome, bv, vervelend, lastig, mocijalijk. "Tie, in plaats van it is. Title, 2. titel, cernaam, naam. To, vz, tot, te; to day, heden, van daag; to-morrow, gen, e) altijd voor de onbe- paalde wijs der werkw. als. mor= LO ΤΟ 459 TR to begin, to see, to work, to rest. Together, bv. te zamen. Tóken, z. het fein, het teeken. Túld, dw. en o. t. van to Tell. Tolerable, bv. tamelijk, dragelijk. Tolerably, bw. tamelijk. to Tolerate, b. w. dulden, ver- dragen. Tóne, z. de toon. Tongs, z. mr. de tong. Tongue, z. de tong, 2) de taal. Too, bv. ook, daarbij, daaren- boven, er bij; voor een bijv. of bijw.te, als: too great, se groot. Took, o. t. vax to Take · • • Tóol, z. werktuig, gereedſchap. Tooth, z. de tand; mv. teeth, tanden; the wind blew in their teeth, de wind was hun tegen. Top, z. de top, Spits, kruin; the top of a hill, de kruin van eenen berg; of his: cavern het dak van zijn hol. Tóre, o. t. van to Tear. Torrent, z. de ftroom; the rain gushed down like a torrent, de regen ftorite neder als een Aroom. 2. Tortoise, z. fchildpad, land- Schildpad, de zeeschildpad heet: eigenlijk turtle. to Toss, b. w. heen en weer Schokken of fingeren; the ship | was tossed up and down, het ſchip word op en neer geſlingerd. Tost: dw. van to TosS. Tótally, bw. geheellijk, gan- fchelijk, geheel en al. to Touch, b. w. benoeren, AaB- raken, 2) treffen, 2) treffen, aandoening veroorzaken, 3) 0. w. aanftoo. tex blijven hangen, vast > zitten. Touchhole, z. het zundgat. | | Touchstone, z. de toetsfreen. Tough, (uitgeſproken als tuf), bv. taai, ftijf, 2) bij aanhou dendheid mocijelijk ; a cough piece of work, een zwaar,lase tig werk. Tour, z. eene kleine reis; to take a tour, sen landreisje, cen toertje doen. Tow, z. hes werk, de ftofe waar van een touw en kabels vero vaardigs. Towards, vz. maar, maar hecny 2) bw nabij. Towel, z. de handdoek.. Town, z. de ftad. Tdy, z. Speelgoed, Tdy, z. Speelgoed, wisfewasjes› Tráce, z. hat spoor." Tract, z. Breek; a tract of land, cenė fresk lands. Tractable, bv. handelbaar, un baar; a tractable animal,. sen- handelbaar dier.s Tráde, z. koophandel, 2) dr broodwinning, hantering. to Trade, o. w. handel drijver. Trader, z. handelaar, koopman g a Guinea trader, een Guinear vaarder. · Tráin, z. het gevolg. Traitor , z. de verrader ; ko proved a traitor, hijwerd trou weloos. Trànquil, bv. gerust, fil. Tranquillity, z. de gerustheid;- to Transcribe, b. w. afſchrijvens- to Transgress, b. w.over ſchrijšony overtredan. Transgression, Z. overtreding, inbreuk (op cous wet of voor- fchrift).. Trànsitory, bv. voorbijgaande, van korten duur. to Transláte, b. w. vertalen's, overzette13. Pp 2 Trans 460 TR TR Translation, z. de vertaling. Transpiration, Z. aitwaſeming › zwees. to Transplant, b. w. verplanten, overplanten3. to Transport, b. w. vervoeron, verplaatsen. Transport, z. verrukking s of joy, verrukking van blijdschap. Tráve, z. de Trave, een vaar- bare rivier in Holftein, voor- bij Lubek Aroomende, aan der❤ zelyor mond bij de Oostzee ligt Travemonde. to Travel, o. w. reizen. Travel, z. de landreize. Traveller, z, de reiziger. Trảy, 2. ben trong, bản. Treacherously bw. verraderlijk. to Tread, b. w. flampen; they tread the juice out with their feet, zij flampen er het fap met de voeten uit. Treasure, z. de fchat. to Tréat. b. w. behandelen, ont- halen; 2) 0. w. handelen. Tréatise, z. het verdrag, 2) de verhandeling. Trée, z. de boom. to Trèmble, o. w. bevon, fidderen. Tremendous, bv. ſchrikkelijk vreesfeliik. > zelachtig, ongewigtig, z. beu- zeling. Trigger, z. de veer waarmede men een schietgeweer afdrukt. Trinkets, z. mv. Speelgoed, beu- zelingen. Trip, z. een uitstapje; to take a trip over to England, een togt- je naar Engeland doen. Trivial, bv.gering, onbeduidend. Triumph, z. de zegepraal, het gejuich. Triumphant, bv. zegepralend. Trid, trode, o. t. van to Tread, Troop, zie Troup. Trophy, z. zegeseeken, trofes. Tròpice, tropick, z. de keerkrings to Trouble, b. w. verontrusten, Horen; 2) to trouble one's self- about a thing, zich met iets be- moeijen, zich aan iets gelegen laten zijn; to trouble one's head, zich het hoofd breken. Trouble, z. de onrust, moeite. verwarring; without the least trouble, zonder eenige moeite.. Troubled, dw. troubled water, troobel water. Troublesome, bv. moeijelijk, lase tig, verontrustend. Troup, troop, z. troep, hoop,, bende, menigte. Trèncher, z. con houten schotel Trowel, z. een troffel. of tafelbord. Trial, z. de proef, beproeving. Trikngular, bv. driehoekig. Tribute, z. de fchatting. Trice, z. oon oogenblik; in a tri- ce, met eenen Sprong. Trickle, o. w. droppelon; a tear trickled down, cene traan vloeide langs zijne wang. Trifle, z bouzeling; mere trifles, kleinigheden. True, bv. getrouw, echt, waar; it is true, het is waar. Trúly, bw. waarlijk. Trùnk, z. de ftam van Bonon boom. Trust, z. het vertrouwen, 2) het ambt; places of trust cora ambten. to Trust, o. w. zijn vertrOUWEN - ftellen, vertrouwen; to trust in God, op God vertrouwen. Trifing, by. onbeduidond, beu- Trustée, z. een vertrouweling,- 2) TU 461 TY 2 2) iemand aan wien in iets toevertrouwt. Trúch, z. de getrouwheid, 2) waarheid. to Try, o. en b. w. beproeven, pogen. Tab, z. eene tobbe, ton, vat. Tùft, z. een bosch, vlecht. to Tumble, o. w. wentelen, tui- melen; the storm made the rocks tumble down, de form wierp de rotfen neder. Túmult, z. de verwarring, het geraas, de oploop; a túmult of joy, een vreugdefeest, luid- rachtig vreugde bedrijf. Túne, z. de wijs van een gezang; I'll teach you the tune of it, ik zal u de melodie, de wijs daarvan leeren. to Túne, b. w. femmer; tune thou my heart to godliness, fem mijn hart tot godvrucht.. to Turn, b. w、 wenden, draai- jen; he turned his eyes upwards, hij wendde zijne oogen hemel waarts; to turn the spit, hot Spit omdraaijen, 2) aanwen- den; to turn to some use, for eenig gebruik aanwenden; s) o. w. verkeeren, veranderen; turned into dust, sot of ver- keerd, 4) worden; 10 taro» a farmer, een landman worden, 5) draaigen, omkeeren; he turned his back, hij keerdo den rug. Turn, z. de beurt; when it would come to his turn, wanneer de beurt aan hem zoude komen, 2) de verandering; a turn of fortune, een omkeering van gs- lak; by turns, bij afwisføling, (beurt om beurt). Turtle, z. de zeeschildpad.. 'T was, verkort of in plaatsvag. it was. Twelft, bw. twaalfde.. Twelve, bv. twaalf. Twentieth, bv. swintigfter Twenty, bv. twintig. Twice, bw. tweemaal.. Twig, z. de tak. to Twist, b. w. draaijën, viétio ten; to twist ropes, touw vlech ten; he twisted a kind of roef, hij vlocht eene foort van dak. Two, (sirgefor. als Toe), bu | b* twee; twolegged, tweebeenig.. Tyger, zie Tiger. Tyranny, z. dwingelandij, 2) wreedheid. Tyrant, z. dwingeland, 2) wreed card.. UN UN | Umbrèlla,z de zonnescherm.parasol | Unànimous, bv. eenstemmig. Unable, bv. oubekwaam, krach- Unanimously, bw, cenfismmit. teloos. Unavoidable, bv. onvermijdelijk, Unaccomplished, bv. onvoltooid, Unavoidably, bw. onvermijdelijk. onvolmaaks. to Unbènd, o, w.vorſlappen, ſlap wordes; c) b. w. ontbinder los maken. Unacquainted, bv. onbekend. Unalterable, bv. onveranderlijk. P. p. 9 Que 462 UN UN Unburied, bv. onbegraven. Uncertain, bv. ongewis, onzeker. Uncertainty, z. onzekerheid. Unchangeable, bv. onveranderlijk. Uncivilized, bv. onbeſchaafd, raw. Uncle, z. de oom. Uncommon, bv. ongewoon, zeld- zaam. Unconceivable, bv. onbegrijpelijk. Unconcèrned, bv. onverſchillig, onbekommerd. Undamaged, bv. onbeschadigd. Undaunted, bv. onverfchrokken. to Undecéive, b. w. iemand uit den droom helpen, zijne dwa ling doen zion; he was unde- ceived, hij merkte zijne dwa· ling: Under, vz. onder; to be under the sad mistake, de treurige dwaling begaan. to Undergó, b. w. ondergaan, verdragen, duiden. Underneath, bw. onder, beneden, om laag. Underpart, z. het onderfte go. deelte. to Understand, b. w. verfiaan, begrijpen. Understanding, z. het verftand. Understood, o. t. en dw. van to Understand. 10 Undertake, b. w. ondernemen, beproeven. Undertaking, z. de onderneming, de proeve. Undertook, o. t. van to Undertake. Underwood, z. het kreupelbosch, kreupelhout. Undescribable, bv. ombeſchrijfe lijk, beter not to be described. Undetermined, bv. omboflist, 2) befluiteloos. Undissèmbled, bv. ongeveinsd. Wadisturbed, bv. ongestoord. to Undo,bw.vernielen,vernietigens Undone, vas to Undo,ongelukkig.. Undoubtedly, bw. ontwijfelbaar,. zonder twijfel. to Undrèss, b. w. ontkleeden,. uitkleeden. Unéasy, bv. ongerust, bekom- merd; about a thing, gens iets. We • Unemployed, bv. ledig, werken- loos, niet bezig. Unéqual, bv. ongelijk. Unéven, bv. oneven, oneffon, ono gelijk, hobbelig. Unexpected, bv. onverwacht. Unexpectedly, bw. onverwacht. Unexpérienced, bv. zonder onder-- vinding, onervaren. Unfaithful, bv. ongetroaw, troue. weloos, verraderlijk. Unfeéling, bv. gevoelloos, onge voolig. Unfinished, bv. ongeeindigd, ono voltooid. Unfit, bv. ongeschikt; unfit for use, niet te gebruiken. Unforeseen, bv. onvoorzien. Unfortunate, bv. ongelukkig. Unfortunately, bw. ongelukkiglijk. Unfriendly, bv. onvriendelijk, om. barmhartig. Uafruitful, bv. onvruchtbaar. to Unfurl, b. w.ontvouwen, ont- rollen; to unfurl a sail, eer zeil ontrolles. Ungrateful, by ondankbaar. Ungratefully, bw. op eene ondanko. bare wijze. Unhappily, bw. ongelukkiglijk, bij ongeluk. Unhappiness, z. ongeluk, ellende.. Unhappy, bv. ongelukkig. Unheard, bv. ongehoord; thy song is nor unheard, gij blijft niets ongehoord.. CAS UN 403: UP Uahurt, bv.onbeschadigd, onbezeerd Unspeakably, bw. onuitfprekelijk. Uniform, bv. eenvormig, regel-Unsteady, bv. onbestendig, wan- matig. Uninhabited, bv. onbewoond. Uninterrupted, bv. onafgebroken. to Unite, b. w. vereenigen, ver- binden; united by the ties of nature, door de banden der na- tuar vercenigd. Waity, z. de eenheid', 2) sendragt; to live in perfect unity, in vol- komen eensgezindheid leven. Universal, bv. algemeen. Universe, z. het heelal. Unknown, bv. onbekend, vreemd. Unlawful, bv. onwettig, onwet- télijk. Unlèss, voegw. ten zij, ten wa- re; unless he mended, ten. Wa- re hij zich beterde. Valike, bv. ongelijk, 2) onwaar. Schijnlijk. Unluckily, bw. bij ongeluk, on- gelukkiglijk. Unlucky, bv. ongelukkig. Unmanned, bv. orbemand; an un- manned ship, een onbemand fchip. Unnecessary, bv. onnoodig, Unnoticed, bv. onbemerkt. Unobserved, bv. onbèmerkt. to Unpack, b. w. aitpakken, oni- pakkes. kelend, zwak; unsteady on his legs, oxvast op zijne beenon, wankelende. Unsuccèssful, bv. vruchteloos, verongelukt, mislukt. Uniáught, bv. ongeoefend, onges- fchikt, ongeleerd. Until, bw. rot, tot aan. Untó, zie To.. Untried, by onbeproefd. Unvaluable, bv. onschatbaar: Unwarrantable, bv. onverantwoord. delijk, 2) ongewaarborgd. Unwholesome, bv. ongezond, na- deelig. Unwilling, bv. onwillig; he was- unwilling to do that, hij was daar tegen, hij wilde dat niet doen, hij had daar geen zin in, hij deed dat niet gaar.. no, enz. Unworthy, bv. onwaardig, niets waardig, lacg, verachtelijk. Up, bw. op; Robinson grew up, R. groeide op; they come nea- rer up with her, zij naderen. het schip, up to the sky, for aan de wolken; 2) up, vz. op. to Upbraid, b. w. befchuldigen, verwijten, bekijven. Unparalleled, bv. onvergelijke-Upholsterer, z. een aitdrager, lijk weergaleos. Unpolluted, bv. onbevleks, reis, zuiver. Unprovided, bv. onverzorgd: Unreasonable, bv. onredelijk, on- verftandig. Unreasonably, bw. onverſtandig- lijk; to act unreasonably, zom. der verſtand te werk gaan. Unsáfe, bv. onveilig, onzeker, gevaarlijk. Wushattered, bv. omboſchadigd. PA behanger. to Uplife, b. w. opheffen; with mplified hands, mos opgeheven handen. ៩- Upòn, vz. op, om; upon some: business, om eenige bezigheid, zaak; upon which, waarop ; the one lives upon the other, ds- cene leeft van den anderen. Upper, bv. the upper part, hot bovenfte gedeelre; the upper shell, de buiten ſchelp. Upe 464 UT US Uppermest, bv. het hoogte. Uproar, z. het oproer, de op- fand, het geraas; nature seem- ed to be in an uproar, de ge. heele natuur schijnt in opftand so zijn. plegen, 4) uitoefenen, maken; be used gestures, hij maaktei gebaren. · Used, bv. gewoon (van use); not used to all this, aan dit alles niet gewoon. Upwards, upward, bv. boven, Useful, bv. bruikbaar, nuttig. *meer, verder. to Urge, b. w. aansporen, aan- drijven; urged by hunger, door den honger gedrongen.. Usefulness, Z.- nus, nuttigheid. 4 Useless, bv. nutteloos.. Usual, bv. gebruikelijk, gewOOM. Usually, bw. gewoonlijk. Us, (perfoonl. voorn.) ons ; 3 en 4 Utensil, z. gereedschap, werktuig. naamv., van we, wij. Use, z. het gebruik, hat nu?; ་ to be of use, nuttig zijn. to Use, b. w. gebruiken, 2) ge- wennen, 3)0. w. gewoon ziju, ་ Utmóst, bv. siterst; the utmost verge, de uiterfie rand, 2) hoogst, in den hoogften grasd. to Utter, b. w. uiten; to utter a word, een woord uitſpreken. • VA VE Väin, bv. ijdel, onbeduidend, | Váríable, by. veranderlijk, om- vergeefsch; 2) bw. in vain vergeefs. - Valet, z. bediende, knecht. > z. kamer- Valet de chambre, z. dienaar. Valiant, bv. dapper, moedig. Valley, z. een dal. Valour, z. depperheid, Vàluable, bv. ſchatbaar, achting- waardig. Value, z. de waarde, de prijs. to Value, b. w. waarderen, Schatten, 2) op prijs Hellen, hoog achten. Vanilla, z. de vanilje. to Vanish, o, w. verdwijnen,on- zigtbaar worden. Vanity, z. de ijdelheid. to Vanquish, b. w, overwinnes, badwingen. Vapour, z. damp, waſem、 bestendig. Variety, z, verſcheidenkoid.. Various, bv. onderfcheiden; va• rious colours, verſchillende kleuren. ら ​Vassal, z. een vasfaal, vazal,. lijfeigene, dienstpligtige, dienstman, leonman. Vast, bv. groot, wijd, uitger Atrekt, a vast quantity, eens groete menigte. Vault, 2. een gewelf. Vèhemesce, z. de hevigheid, o fuimigheid, nadruk. Véhicle, z. een rijtuig. | Véin, Z. de adér, bloedadèr. Velocity, z. de ſnelheid. Venerable, bw. eerwaardig. • · oy | Vènt, z. de opening, uitgang y licht of luchtgat. to Vent, b. w, uitlaton; to vens sighs VI 465 VO sighs, zachten lozen, fte- nen. to Venture, b. w. wagen, moed hebben; 2) to venture from one's habitation, to venture out, het wagen zijne woning te veria- ten, uit te gasn. | het zien; a new obstacle start- ed in view, een nieuwe hin- derpaal liet zich zien, deed zich op. Vigorously, bv. krachtdadiglijk• Vilage, z. con dorp. Villain, z. een booswicht. Verdure, z. het groen, het len- Vine, z. de wijnfick. tegroen Vèrge, z. de rand, de grens- fcheiding; the utmost verge, het uiterße einde. Vèrse, z. een vers. Very, bv. bw. waar om bw, waar, werke- lijk, herzelfde; at that very time, juist op dien tijd; for that very reason, juist om die reden; with the very first ship, met hat allereerfte fchip, the very same, juist de (het) zelf de; very right, zeer juist, very true, zeer waar; very fine, zeer fraai. Vessel, z. een vat, vaatwerk; a milk vessel, een melkpot, 2) | en fchip, vaartuig; by the very first vessel, met het aller- eerfte fchip.. Vice, z de ondeugd, 2.) elke misflag of foat die sos.gewo 0 1% • te ontaard is. Vicious, bv. endeugendi. Vicissitude, z. latwisfeling, wis- felvalligheid Victim, z. flagtoffer. Victor, z. de overwinnaar. Victórious by. overwinnend.. Victory, z. de overwinning. Victuals, z. m. levensmiddelen. to Vie, o. w. wedijveren. to View, b. w bezien, bezigti. gen, befchouwen. View, z. het uitzigt, 2)de aas. blik; to take a view of a thing, iess bozigtigon, 3) het gezigt, Vineyard, z. de wijngaard, wiju- berg. Violence, z. het gewald. Violent, bv. hevig, geweldig. Violently, bw. hevig, geweldig. Virtue, z. de deugd, 2) goede oigenſchap, kracht, hes vere mogen. Virtuous, bv. deugdzaam.- Visibly, bw. zigtbaarlijk, open“ baar, oogenſchijnlijk. Visit, z. het bezoek; to pay visit, een bezoek afleggen. Vitreous bv. van glas, vero, glaasd, glasachtig. Victuals, zie Victuals. Vogue, z. zwang, gebruik; to be io vogue, in zwang zijn.4. gewoon zijm • Voice, z. de fem, de toon der- fem. Volcáno, z. de vaurberg, veure Spuwende berg, volkaen. Volley z. cene lading,volle laag,. Voluntary, bv. vrijwillig, onge. dwongen. Volume, z. het boek, 2) hear deel, (van een werk of bock)... to Vòmit, o. w. w. braken, Spac wan, 2) b. w. uitſpuwon; to vomit stones, Feonen uitwerpen Vomiting, Z. het braken, site. werpen. to Vow, b. w. belooven, plegti.. ge gelofte doen. Voyage, z. de zeereis; the history- of voyages, de reisbeſchrijving.. P p 5 W. WA WA AANN. Na de w wordt de a meestal breed uitgesproken, iets tus- de w zelve words met eene expiratie uit geſproken, bijna als oew. fchen o en a; to Wáde, o. w. waden, door- nvader. to Wag, b. w. bewegen; he wag- ged his tail, hij kwispalde' mat den ftaart. Wager, z. de weddingschap; for a wager, om eene weddingfchap. to Wail, o. w. klagen, trouren. Waist, z het onderlijf. to Wait, b. w. wachten; supper waits! aan tafel! 2) 0. w. wachten, mat for, op iets wachten. + to Wake, o: w. waken, wakker worden; 2) b. w.wekken, wak, ker maken. to Walk, o. w: gaan, wandelen. Walk, z. de wandeling, 2) wan- dalplaats. Wall. z. de muur, wal, wand. to Wander, (de a luidt, in dit en verfcheidane volgende woor den, even als in het hollandsch); `o. w, wandeløn, zwerven ; his eyes were wandering, zijne 00 gen weidden rond to Want, b. w. behoover, noo- dig hebben, 2-) gebrek aan iets hebben; what do you want?war ontbreekt u? 3) o. w. verlan gen, wenschen, willen; I wanted to have one, ik wilde er een hebben. . Want, z. de behoefte; we have many wants, wij hebben vele Behoeften; to be in want of a thing, iets noodig hebben, 2) het gebrek; for want of, bij gebrek van. War, z. de oorlog. Ward, z. de wachter, behoeder, voogd. Wardance, Z. de oorlogsdans van wilde volken. Wårlike, bv. oorlogzuchtig. Warm, bv. warm, 2) hartelijk: innig. to Warm, b. w: warmen. to Warn, 6. w. waarschuwen, vermanen. to Warp, b. w. bij wevers, di ketting maken; van daar: warping bar, weversboom; ge- woonlijk warpingloom. Warrier, warrior, z. een krijgs. 127. • Was, o. t. van to Be, was, word. to Wash, b. w. wasſchen; 2) to be washed over board, over boord gespoeld worden. Wasp, z. de wesp. Wast zɩ onkelvoud van de o. to van to Be, waart, (gij waart). to Watch, b. w. bewaken; 2) 0. w waken. Watchman, z. de nachtwaker,2) wacht, fchildwacht. Watchroom, z. de waakkamer, 2) de wachtkamer. Water, z. het water. to Water, b. w. begieten, be• Sproeijen; to water the plants, de planten begieten; 2)0. w. his mouth watered, hij watertandde. WA WE 467 WH Watering pot, Z. de gielemmer, Waterspout, z. een wolkbreak, waterhoos. Wave, z. de golf, baar. Wáy, z. de weg; this way, hier heen; by the way, onder weg, 2) het middel; by this way, door dit middel, hier door, $) de handelwijze; you shall have your own way, gij zult de han- den vrij hebben, gij kunt doen zoo als gij wilt, 4) de wijzs, manier: our way of living, on- ze leefwijze ; io the wrong way, op seno verkeerde wijze; our way of killing animals, on ze manier van dieren te flag- ten; 5) met Zamenstelling, to give way, wijken; this or that way, zoo of anders; to be in one's way, iemand in den weg (hinderlijł) zijn ; to make one's way, zijn fortuin maken, wo! door de wereld komen. We, (perfoonl. voorn.) wij. Wéak, bv. zwak, krachteloos. Weakness, z. zwakheid. to Wean, b. W ontwennen. Speenen. Weapon, z. het wapen, gewser. to Wear, b. w. dragen, bij zich dragen; 2) 0. w. afnemen, af- dragen, affijten, gewoonlijk met out, he was so worn out, hij Was zoo afgemat, zoo krachteloos; his clothes were worn out, zijne kleederen wa- ren afgeſloten. to Weave, b. w. weven. Wéavor, z. de wever. Web, z. het weeffel, de gewas ven stof. Wedge, z. een brockijzer. Weed, z. het onkruid. • to Weed, b. w onkruid uittrek- ken, wieden. Week, z. de week.; in three weeks time, in den tijd van drie wes ken, binnen drie weken. to Wéep, b. w. weenen, ſchreijen. to Weigh, b. w. wegen, 2) op- heffen; to weigh anchor, het anker ligtes; 3) 0. w. wegen. Weight, z. zwaarte, gewigt; of Dear one hundred weight, vas &e honderd ponden zwaar. + het Welfare, z. de welvaart, welzijn het geluk. Well, z. de bron, wel. Well, bw. wel, goed, 2) ak tusfchenw., wel nu, gesd. Weat, o. t. van to Go. Wept, o. t. van to Weep. Were, o. t. van to Be, as i were, als het ware. Wèst, bv. westelijk, ten westem gelegen. Westward, bw. ten westen. Wét, bv. nat, vochtig. While bone, z. balein, wat, vischbaard. What, (voorn.) heiwelk, dat s 2) tusfchenw. hoe! wat! Whatever, (voorn.) was ook. Wheat, z. tarwe. Wheel, z. con wiel of rad. Wéaried, bv. maede, afgemat, Wheelbarrow, z. kruiwagen. vermoeid. Weariness, z. vermoeidheid. Weary, b. v. en o, w. vermoeid, vermosijen ; to weary one's eyes, zijne oogen vermosijen, Weather, z. het weder. Wheelwright, z. wagenmaker, radenmaker. Whèn, bw. wauneer, als, indieu. Whence, bw, van waar. Whènever, bw. wanneer ook, zaa dikwijls als. Where 468 WI WH Where, bw, waar, daar, 2) Wickedness. z. onzedelijkheid, waar? Whereabout, bw. waaromtrent, Whereas bw. waarentegen, daar integendeel, terwijl integen- deel, terwijl. Whereof, bw. waaryan. Whereupon, bw, waarop. to Whèt, bw. wetten. Whether, b. w. of. Whetstone, z. de fijpfteen. Which, (voorn.) welk, welke, welken, herwelk. While, z. da tijd, wijl; a while, 2 een tijälang; all this while, dezen ganschen tijd; mean while, intasfchen; to thick it worth the while, het der moci te waardig achten; not yet a while, op verre na nisi, nog lang niet. While, bw. gedurende, terwijl. Whilst, bw. gedurende, terwijl. terwijk Whim, z. de inval, luim, gril. to Whine, o w. hailen, wecnen. to Whirl, b. w. ſnel omdraaijens 2) o. w. dwarrelex; a whirling storm, een orkaan; a whirl. wind, een dwarrelwind. to Whisper, o. w. fluisteren. White, bv. with Whitish bv. witachtig. Whỏ, (uitgeſpr. als hoe), voorn. wie, welke. Whoever, voorn.. wie ook, ic- dør die. Whole, z. ket geheel, alles. Wholesome, bv. gezond, heil zasm, e) nuttig, voordeelig. Wholly, bw geheel en al. Whóm, accuſativ. van Who. Whose, genitiv. van Who. Why, bw. hos, waarom? 2) ei, wel nu. goddeloosheid. Wide, bv. wijd, breed, uitge- Areks. to Widen, b. w. verwijden, vers breeden, vergrooten. Widow, z. wedaws. Wife, z. getrouwde vrouw. Wild, bv. wild, woest. Will, z. de wil; he bad his own will, hij had zijn eigen wil. to Will, b. w. willen, 2) als hulpwerkwoord vormt het dem toekomenden tijd, en besee- kond alsdan zullen. willig, Willing, bv. gonegon willens. Willingly, willig. Willow, z. wilgen boom; a wil- bw. gaarne, vrij- low tree. Wind, z. de wind. to Wind, b. w. draaijen, win. den, emwinden; 3) o. w. zich draaijen, wonden; winding down this way, dezen weg heer draaijende. Windmill, z. windmolen. Window, z. het venfter. Wine, z. de wijn; a wine press, cene wijnpers. Wing, z. de vleugel. Wink, z. de oogweak; he could not got a wink of sleep, hij kon geen oog toedoen; ook no wink of sleep befriended his eyes. to Wink, o. w. wenken, toom wenken.. Winter, z. de winter; winter was at hands, de winter was op han- den. to Wipe, b. w. afwisschen, af- droogen. Wire, z. ijzer of koperdraad. Wicked, by, ondeugend, goddeloos. Wisdom, z. de wijsheid. Wi- WO 469 WO Wise, bv. wijs. Wisely, bw. wijsfelijk. Wish, z. de wensch. to Wish, o. en b. w. wenfchen. Wished for, gewenscht; the long wished for daylight, het lang gewenschte daglicht. Wit, z. de geest, het vernæfi, het verftand; to be out of one's wits, buiten zinnen zijn. Witch, z. tooveres, heks. Witchcraft, z. tooverij, hekſerij. With, vz. met, 2) bij; with him, with us, bij hem, ons; 3) he did not know what to do with himself for fear, hij wist van vrees niet, waar hij blijven zoude. to Withdraw, b. w. terug trek- ken; to withdraw one's hand, zijne hand aftrekken; 2)0. w. terug gaan, weg gaan. Withe, z. het wilgen takje. to Wither, c. w. verdorran; a withered tree, een verdorde boom. to Withhold, b. w. serag houden. Vichlo, vz. en bw. binnen, in; within himself, bij zich zelven. Without, vz. zonder, 2) buiten; 3) bw. buiten; from without, van buiten. to Withstand, b. w. wederftaan; the temptation, de verzoe- king wederflaan. Withstanding, z. de tegenstand. Witness, z. de getuige, 2) het getuigenis. Wives, mv. van Wife, getrouw- de vrouwen. Wizard, z. een toovenaar hek- fenmeester. Woe! (tusfchenw.) wee! Woeful, bv. treurig, droevig. Wolf, z. de wolf. Woman, z. de vrouw. Womanish, bv. verwijfi. Women, (pr. Wimmen), mv, van Woman, prouwen; an old women story, een oudewijvez praatje. to Wònder, (met at), 0. w.ver- wonderen over iets. Wonder, z. het wonder, hetgens waarover men zich verwoe- dert, 2) de verwondering, 3) wonderwerk, mirakel; what in the name of wonder, was om 's hemels wil. Wonderful, bv. wonderbaar,won. derlijk, bewonderenswaardig. Wouderfally, bw. wonderbaar- lijk, verwonderlijk. Wondrous, bv. verwonderlijk. Won't, verkort van will not. Wood, z. het woud, het bosch, 2) het hour. Wooden, bv. hosten, van hout. Woodlouse, z. houtluis, woud. luis. Woodworm, z. houtworm. Woódy, bv. boschacktig. Woof, ż. het weeffel, bij we. vers de inflag. Wool, z. de wol. Woolly, bv. wellig; woolly hair, wollig haar, kroes haar. Word, z. het woord; in a word, met sen woord, 2) de nsrigt; to bring, to send word to one, iemand narigt geven, hem doen weten, ham melden. Wore, o. t. van to Wéar. to Work, o. en b. w. werken, arbeiden; his brains worked, bij brak zich het hoofd; to work out a hollow place, wit. graven, uitwerken; to work on, voortwerken. Werk, 0470 WR WR ¡ Work, z het overk, de arbeid. World, z. de wereld. Worm, z. de worm. དྷྭ་ Worn, dw. van to Wéar. Worse, bv. vergelijkenda trap van bad, erger, ſlechter... Worship, z. hulde, eerbewij- zing; to pay divine worship, godsdienftige eer besoonen. Worst, bv. overtreffende trap van bad, flechtfte, ergfte. Worth, by. waardig, waard; to think it worth one's while, he de moeite waardig keure32. Worthy, bv, waardig. Would, o. t. vas to Will, wil J de; als hulpwerkw. vorme het den voorwaardelijken tijd, on beteekent zo ude; what he would be good for, waarvoor hij goed zoude wezen,2) gewoon zijn, plegen; the father would tell them stories, de vader pleegde hen vertelfeltjes te verhalen. Wound, (ſpr. woeud), z. sene wonde. met up), wrapt up in a cloak in eenen mantel gewikkeld, ge- huld. Wieck, z. wrak. + to Wrest, b. w, met geweld ont- nemen, wringen; be wrested the sword out of his band, hij ontwrong hon den degen. Wrètch, z. een ongelukkige, el- lendige 2) een deugniet, la. ge zie!. Wretched, bv. ellendig, onge lukkig; your wretched son, uw ongelukkige zoon; wretched too's, ellendig gereedschap. to Wring, b. w. worfielen; wris gen; to wring one's hands, de handen wringen, 2) ontwringen to Write, b. w. ſchrijven; the father wrote it down, de vader fchreef het op. Writing, z. het ſchrift ; the writings, de papieren, fchriften. Written, dw. yan to Write. Wrong, bv. Wrong, bv. verkeerd; in the wrong way, verkoordelijk. to Wound, b. w. kwetfen, Wrong, z. het onregt, het on- wonder. Wound, (Spr. wound), dw.yan to Wind. Wrack, wreck, z. wrak, over- blijffel van een ſchip; ship. wreck, Schipbreuk. to Wrap, b. w. zamenrollen, op- rollens wikkelen, (gemeenlijk geluk, 2) de dwaling. to Wrong, b. w. krenken, be. leedigen, verongelijken. Wróce, o. t. van to Write. Wrought, o. t. van to Work, Wrùng, o. t. van to Wring. Wry, bv. averegts, fchoof; a wry face, een scheef gezigt. 1 # YA Yacht, (pr. jati), z. een jacht, boeijer, klein vaartuig. Yard, z. eën hof, binnenhof, 2) 0.07/0 maat van drie voetom, cene al, * YE Yarn z. het garen. to Yawn, o. w. geeuwen. Ye, in plaats van you, gij. Year, z. het jaar. to YO 471 YO to Yell, o. w. huilen, laid Yoke, z. het juk. fchreeuwen. Yellow, bv. geel. Yes, bw. ja. Yesterday, z. de dag van gister ren, gisteren. Yon, yonder, bw. ginds. You, voorn. gij, น Yoùng, bv. jong; a young man, esn jongeling. Younger, bw. jonger; Robinson the younger, Robinſon de jonge, Yóar, (voorn. van bezitting), aw, alieder. Yesterni, ht, z. gisteren avond. Yet, voegw. echter, toch, even wel; 2) bw, nog; not yet, nog niet; as yet, voor het tegen-Yourself, voorn. gij zelf, u zel woordige. ven, a, het mv. is yourselves. to Yoke, b. w. aan het juk Span- | Youth, z. de jeugd, 2) een jon nen, aanspannen. geling. ZE Zéal, z. de ijver, hartstogtelij- ke neiging tot iets; with fer- Z E vent zeal, met brandenden if ver. Zéslous, bv. ijverig. By den Uitgever dezes zijn gedrukt en alom te bekome J. P. Jungst, Lexicon Latino-Belgicum ex majori Schelleriano aliisque contractum in usum studiosae juventutis. Met eene voorrede vu Prof. H. Bosscha. Frieseman, nieuw Nederduitsch-Latijnsch Woor- denboek, 2 declen. Neues deutsch-holländisches und holländisch-dent- sches Handworterbuch, 2 Theile. Jacobs, Grielsch Leesboek voor eerstbeginnenden, ten gebruike der Latijnsche scholen, a stukjes, 2de druk. Bröder, Latijnsch Leesboek voor eerstbeginnen- den, ten gebruike der Latijnsche scholen Döring, Vertalingsproeven voor meer gevorderde leerlingen in de Latijnsche taal, je doel met een Voorrede voorzien van Prof. H. Bassche, het 20 deel bewerkt door BF Nagel, vector te Thiel bebe.zende eene korte schets der Romeinsche geschie- denis, van de stichting der stad tot den ondergang des Westerschen stad tot de keizerrijks. The Polite Preceptor, or a collection of entertai- ning and instructive essays, selected from te best english Writers. mug F. Gedile, Engelsch Leesboek voor eerstbeginnen- et een Engelsch-Hollandsch Woordenboek, ɔde a uk. J. V. Meidinger, Fransche Leesoefeningen, geschikt om in het Nederduitsch te vertalen, ade druk. Lettres pour de jeunes gens, à l'usage des écoles. histoire abrégée de Robinson Crusoe, urtagée en legons, et destinée à être traduit Hollvidais, 20 édition. J. V. Meidinger, meuwe beoefenende Hoogduit- sche Spraakkunst. G. W. Lehman, Handbuch der deutſchen Spra- che, enthaltend Auszüge aus den besten Klassischen Schriftstellern und Dichtern der Deutschen.