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ILLITIO
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MARTES
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LIBRARY VERITAS OF THE
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ROBINSON
с
А
BY
м
Р
Е.
Engliſches Leſebuchs
E n t halteno
Campenſchen Robinſon
111 it
einem Wörterb u che
Der ſehen
Fii r
die Anfänger in der Engliſchen Sprache
pe u Bear $ ¢ i te to
3 weite verbeterte Auflage
Frankfurt am Mayn
6 en frie or id Wil 11 a n $.
1 80 7.
ROBINSON
THE
YOU N G ER
BY
MR. I. H.
C
A
M
P
E.
L'RANSLAT E
FROM THE GERMAN,
REVISED AND CORRECTED, TO WHICH IS ADDED
A GERMAN EXPLANATION OF THE WORDS.
SECOND CORRECTED EDITION
FRANCFORT ON THE MAYN
PRINTED FOR F. WILMANS
1 807
egint l. h. Hubtaul
tenis-1924
ORRE DE
zur ersten Ausgabe,
Der Buchhändler Wilmans, welcher das Ver-
lagsrecht' der bey Keſsler in Frankfurt am Mayn
erschienenen Englischen Uebersetzung des
Campenschen Robinson's, mit Deut-
schen Noten unter dein Texte, an sich gekauft
batte, ersuchte michi, vor einem neuen Ab-
drucke, eine Revision dieses, in mehrere Schu-
len eingeführten Lesebuchs, vorzunehmen. In
der festen Ueberzeugung, daſs die Deutsche
Wörtererklärung unter dem Texte, für den
Selbstfleiſs des Schülers sehr nachtheilig wer-
den könne, verwarf ich diese Einrichtung, und
beschloſs, statt derselben dem Anfänger in der
Sprache seine Vorbereitung auf die Lection,
durch ein angehängtes Wörterbuch, nach dem
Muster der vortreflichen Lesebücher des Ober-
Consistorialraths Gedike, zu erleichtern, i
Was die Uebersetzung betrift, so habe ich
sie im Ganzen beybehalten, sowohl, weil ich
die noch vorhandenen Ausgaben, mit und ohne
VI
Noten, durch eine gänzliche Umarbeitung nicht
unbrauchbar machen wollte: vornehmlich aber
weil ich finde, daſs die Uebersetzung zu dem
Bebuſe allerdings gut genug ist, nachdem ich
hin und wieder die Construction und einzel-
ne Ausdrücke verändert, und, wie ich glau-
be, verbessert habe.
Anfangs war ich Willens, eine kurze Eng-
lische Sprachlehre hinzuzufügen; da sich aber
nachmals fand, daſs die Bogenzahl zu stark
werden würde, so begnügte ich mich, durch
eingescholene Sternchen, dem Sprachlehrer ei-
nen Wink zu einer grammatischen Bemerkung
zu geben.
Brenien im September 2799.
. Diese zweite Auflage
hat durch den hin und wieder verbesserten
Ausdruck, durch die Vermehrung des Wörter-
Buchs, und eine sorgfältige Säuberung von
Druckfehlern, im Innern, und durch bessern
Druck und Papier auch im Aeuſsern gewonnen.
Bremen im September 1806.
+ F, C. Mertens.
Doct. 11. Prof. der Philos ain Gymnasio ill.
und Lehrer am Pädagogio.
PREF A C E.
P
.
1.
If the different intentions, which I had in
compoſing theſe ſheets, do not entirely pro-
ve ahortive, the book which I here preſent to
the public, 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 advantageous in ſhewing to
inexperienced inſtructors the uſe, which ac-
cording to my wiſhes ſhould be made of this
work.
In the firſt place, I intended to entertain
my young readers in as agreeablé a inanner
as poſſible; well knowing, that the hearts of
children are always open to receive uſeful in-
ſtructions, when they are chearful and gay,
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
VIII
S
baſis of this book, fo much elemental know-
ledge, as was conſiſtent with my firſt view.
By elemental knowledge I do not mean lite-
rary elements, but ſuch as ought to precede
literary or ſcientific elements; viz, all thoſe ini-
tial ideas of things occurring in domeſtic life,
in nature, and in the extenſive circle of ordi-
nary human activity, without which every
other inſtruction reſembles a building without
foundation.
Thirdly, I intended occaſionally to inſert
many neceſſary rudiments of natural hiſtory,
becauſe I found them in my way. For, why
inſtead of the fictions, with which the origi-
nal hiſtory of Robinson is filled, might I
not' rather take real objects, real productions
and phoenomena of nature – relative to the
part of the world in queſtion – as I could
have them hoth at the ſame price, and they anfo
wer'd the ſame purpoſe? This is one reaſon,
why I could make no great uſe of old Robin-
son's hiſtory, in compoſing mine. Many
others will be found hereafter.
My fourth and moſt important view was,
to arrange the circumſtances and adventures ſo,
as to be productive of many moral remarks
IX
and natural occaſions for pious and religious
ſentiments, adapted to the underſtanding and
the minds of children. This often put me un-
der a neceſſity, to create materials, and to de-
viate from the original hiſtory.
• To uſe this book therefore only as an ex.
erciſe in reading for young children, (which
generally is not their moſt agreeable occupa-
tion) would highly fruſtrate my moſt ſanguine
wiſhes; viz, to fow the ſeeds of virtue, pie-
ty and relignation in the ways of divine pro-
vidence, into the minds of children. Grown
people, who love the converſation of children,
are to read it to them, and give it into the
hands of thoſe children only, wo have alrea-
dy acquired a competent fluency in reading.
My fifth view had reference to the now
ráging epidemick, mental diſeaſe, which for
ſome years has cauſed ſuch dreadful depreda-
tions on all our bodily and mental faculties,
to the viſible diminution of the sum of human
joys in life. I mean that fatal ſentimental fe-
ver. Though - heaven he praiſed - the rage
of this moral diſeaſe has in ſo much ahated, as
to be no longer a peſtilence that deſtroys at
noon day, becauſe no one dares any longer
boaſt of affected ſenſibility; but nevertheles it
remains to the preſent day, a diſtemper lur-
king in'the dark, and like other ſhameful diſ.
tempers, is preying on the health of the hu-
man ſoul. Nothing affected me more than to
ſee, how ſome authors were endeavouring to
infuſe the ſweet flattering poiſon of this ſick.
neſs into our offſpring, which would have ren-
der'd the next generation juſt as ſickly in mind
and body, as eneryated, as diſſatiſfied with
themſelves, with the world, and with divine
providence as the preſent. Whilſt I was con-
lidering what might prove the moſt efficacious
antidote 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 Ar-
cadia, which exiſts no where, and to which
they are allured by ſome and bring them back
10 that world we really inhabit, and from
thence toʻthe original ſtate of humanity, from
wliich we have deviated: a book, which might
rouſe and ſtrengthen many a dormant, phyſi-
cal and moral faculty of man; a book, indeed
as entertaining and attractive as any other,
XI
S
though not like ſo many others, merely for
idle contemplations and trifling emotions, but
might lead to immediate activity; a book, that
might direct the inclination, which young chil-
dren have, to imitate every thing they ſee 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 in-
ventions and occupations to ſupply our natu-
ral wants; a book, which might ſhew the con-
traſt 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 fantaſtic,
a book, in fine, in which young and old
might graſp as it were the felicity of ſocial lic
fe notwithſtanding all its wants and unavoi-
dahle limitations; a book, which might encou-
rage every one to be ſatisfied with his condi-
tion, 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 Rous-
seau (peace be with his great departed soul!)
once wiſhed for ſuch a book and — how did
(
O
i
XII
my pulſe heat! - had partly diſcovered it. In-
ſtantly 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
concentrate' ſo many different books, and to
unite them under one common head eaſily to
be overlooked, uſefully purſued, and apt to
ſerve as a fpur, 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 bit upon and diſcovered; the na-
tural and animated deſcription of ſuch a ſitua-
tion would give a child occaſion to exert the
power of his imagination.“ ..
„Zealous philoſopher, I ſee your imagina-
tion already inflamed'; don't put yourſelf to
any expence; this ſituation is found, is de-
ſcribed already, and without depreciating your
merit, much hetter than you would have done,
at leaſt with more truth and fimplicity. As
we need have books, there exiſts one, which
in my opinion, is the moſt ſucceſsful treatiſe
XIII
of a natural education. This will be the firſt
book that my Emile ſhall. read; it will for
a long time he his whole library and always
have a conſiderable place in it. It will be the
text, to which all our converſations of natu-
ral ſciences will ſerve as a commentary. It will
ſerve as a touchſtone to our imagination, and
as long as our taſte be uncorrupted, the peru.
fing of it will always' delight us. What
then, may this wonderful book he? : :
Is it Aristotle, Pliny, Buffon? -
No, iť is Robinson Cruso e..
„Robinson Crusoe, alone in his if-
land, without the leaſt affiftance of any in-
ſtrument of Art *), is nevertheleſs occupied
in providing for his subfiſtence, for his pre-
ſervation, and even procureş; himſelf a very
comfortable ſtate of life. This is an important
object for every age, and there are a thouſand
means of rendering it agreeable to children:
imperceptibly, we give a real exiſtence to the
*) In this Mr. Rousseau is miſtaken.' Old Ro-
binson had saved a number of tools from the
wreck, whereas our younger Robinson had no-
thing but his hands and his head, to provide for
his subſiſtence.
XIV
deſert. iſland, which at firſt ſerved me as a
compariſon only. This ſituation, I muſt con-
fels, is not that of a ſocial man, and probab-
ly 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 railing
one's ſelf above any prejudice, and of framing
one's judgment according to the true propor-
tions 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 near his iſland, and ending with
the arrival of the ſhip he embarks in, will du-
ring the time in queſtion here, be Emile's
amuſement and inſtruction. I'll have his head
turn giddy with it, Tee him buſied with his
caſtle', goats and plantations, I'll have him
learn minútely, not from books, but from the
things themſelves, what to do in the like fitua-
tion. 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 odd equipage of the picture, even to
17IT
XV-
w
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'll have him exami-
ne the conduct of his hero, examine whether
he has not neglected any thing; whether he
might not have arranged ſome things better; I'll
have him be a ſtrict obſerver of all Robin-
son'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 happi-
neſs is known, than to poſſeſs what is necef-
ſary 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 ea-
ger in learning, than his maſter in teaching.
He will be deſirous of knowing all what is
and may be uſeful, and deſire no more. The
re will be no need of leading him any longer,
but only to check him in his way. - The per-
formance of the natural arts, to which one
man alone will be ſufficient, leads to the in-
XVI
veſtigation of thoſe arts of induſtry and ſkill,
which require the concurrence of many hands."
Thus far Rousseau.
And has this wonderful book, we hi-g
therto ſeemed to want, been in the world
theſe many years ? - Yes! and no! According
as either the general idea, or the execution
of ſuch a hook be meant. The former (which
Rousseau ſpeaks of, ) does exiſt, has long
exiſted, and its title is Robinson Crusoe;
but alas the latter is ſtill wanting. For I think
it is needleſs to obſerve, that ſo much prolix,
ſuperfluos chat, that fullſome overſtrained ſtyle,
and that obſolete and often faulty language of
old german tranſlations, are by no means de-
ſirable qualities in a book for children, no
more than its defects with regard to morality.
Beſides this, we find ſomething in the hif-
tory of old Robinson, which deſtroys one
of the chief advantages, that might have been
attained by that hiſtory; I mean Robinson's
being provided with all the neceſſary european
inſtruments, to procure him many of thoſe con-
veniencies, social life affords among civilized
people. By this, the great advantage of giving
a young reader a ſtriking picture of all the wants
XVII
of a ſolitary man, and of the many bleſſings
of ſociety, is entirely loſt. This is another rea-
fon, why I thought fit to deviate from the ori.
ginal Robinson.
I therefore divided the whole hiſtory of
my young Robinson's ſtay in his iſland,
into three periods. In the firſt, I would ha-
ve him quite alone, without any of the euro.
pean utenſils, ſhilting for himſelf, by the on-
ly means of his underſtanding and hands, to
ſhow how helpleſs a ſolitary man is; and then,
how much thinking and continued endeavours
are able to contribute to the amendment of
our ſituation. In the ſecond I gave him a com-
panion, to ſhew, how much the ſituation of
man, may he improved by ſociety alone. Fi-
nally in the third, an european ſhip is caſt
away upon his ſhore, to provide him with
utenſils and moſt of the neceſſaries of life, to
enhance the value of ſo many things , which
we conſider as trifles, becauſe we never felt
he want of them. This firſt volume then, con-
ains the ſolitary life of young Robinson,
and the ſecond the continuation and conclu-
lion of the hiſtory.
XVIII
Before I leave my readers, I take the li-
berty of making young inſtructors attentive to
a ſecondary intention, which in the execution
of this work ſeemed very important to me,
viz to give beginners in the art of educa-
tion, by true family ſcenes, an intereſting ex-
ample of the relation between parents and chil.
dren, and which onglit likewiſe to fubfiſt
between the inſtructor and his pupil. When
this relation, is once well eſtabliſbed, many
of theſe obſtacles, uſually attending on ędn-
cation will diſappear of themſelves: but when
it is not, -recourſe muſt be had to the com-
paſs of education, the deviations of which are
ſo manifold, and not yet all ſufficiently aſcer-
tained 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.
U
29
R
0
Β
Ι
Ν
S
Ο
Ν
THE YOUNGE R.
There was 1) once a numerous family, confil.
ting 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 mo-
ther of the family loved them all as their own chil-
dren *, tho? Charlotte alone, the leaſt * of them,
was their daughter; and two friends of the houſe , R.
and B., did 6.) the fame. They reſided in the coun-
try, 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 pre-
cept. But during their daily toils and after they we-
re accompliſhed, all deſired tº hear ſomething, that
might 6) contribute, to render them more * ſenſible,
wiler and better;, then the father would 7) * relate
them
2) to be. 2) to conſiſt. 5) to be, 4) to do. 5) to know.
6) may. 7) vill,
20
them hiſtories *, tales etc. and the young folks heark-
ened 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 hea-
ring, or reading this remarkable hiliory, the father
wrote 8) it down and two thouſand copies of it
were printed.
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) almoft forgotten 10) what preceded
this relation. - » Will you not tell us fornething
father? " ſaid Theophilus, on a line fummer's eve-
ning. „ With all my heart,“ was the anſwer; „, but
it were a pity, to paſs ſo line an * evening in doing
nothing, but looking through the windows. Come,
let us fit down on the graſsplat!"
Oh that's fiue, very fine! they all cried, running
haſtily out of doors.
8) to write. g) to have. 10) to forget.
FIRST E V ENING,
THEOPHILUS. Here Papa ?
FATHER. Yes, here under this apple- tree.
NICOLA's. Oh excellent!
ALL. Éxcellent, moſt excellent!
(Jumping about and clapping their hands.)
FATHER. Bút what do * you intend to do, whilft
I am * telling you a 'ſtory; I dare ſay you will not
fit' there quite idle ? . . . .
.
John. No if we had but ſomething to do. : ;
MOTHER. Here are 11) peafe to ſhell! Here are
french beans to firing: who will have any?
ALL. I! I! I! I'! .
;
THEOPHILUS. I and my Charlotte, and you Fre-
deric, will ſhell peale , ſhall we not?
CHARLOTTE. No! I thank you, I muſt firſt make
the braidſtitch, * Mama Chewed me."
THEOPHILUS. Well, we two then! come Fre.
deric, fit down.
: FRIEND R. I'll 12) work with you.
. (Sitting down by them on the graſs.)
11) to be. 12.) i. e. 'I will.
22
* ** TRIEND RAnd I with you; you have no objece
tion, I dare ſay!
Dick. Oh no! no! here is room epough, That's
excellent! Now we will ſee, who can furing moſt!
TATHER. Place yourſelves ſo, that you can ſee the
ſun go down, it will be a glorious fight this evening.
(They all ſeat themſelves and commence their work.)
Farlier. Now my children, I will tell you a ve-
ry wonderful ſtory: at times your hair will ſtand on
end, and then your hearts will beat with delight.
THEOPHILUs. Oh but don't 13) let it be too melan-
choly. I 3,4 s
CHARLOTTE. No, not too melancholy, d'ye 14)
hear, Papa ? otherwiſe it will certainly make us: cry,
and then we can't 15) help it.
JOHN. Well, give over ! Papa will know what
he is to tell. ;*;
in
FATHER. Fear nothing, my children; I'll take
care, that it ſhall not be too mournful... vi .
There was once a man in Hamburgh, whoſe
name was. Robinſon. He had three-fons. : The el-
deſt, who had a mind to be a Soldier', enliſted, and
was killed in a battle againlt the French. *vi
The ſecond appliedlo' * learning; one day being *
overheated, he drank : 1h): à cold draight, which
threw 17) him into a conſumption and carried him offi:
..The youngeſt, who was called Cruſoe, I don't
know, on what account, was the only ſurviver. In
13) i. e. do not,' 14) i, e. do yoiz. 15) i. e. can 11,00.
16) to drink. 17) to throw
him Mr. and Mrs. Robinſon, placed all their ho-
pes, as he was now their only child; they doated on
him to excels, but their love was in conliſtent 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 uſe-
ful things, becauſe we know, it will render you good
and happy. Bụt Crusoe's * parents did 18) not ſo.
Their dailing fon had his own will in every thing *
he did, and now, as he rather choſe to play, than
work and learn, he was allowed to play almoft the
whole day and ſo learned little or nothing. This is,
what ſenſible people call unreaſonable love...!
THEOPHILUS. Ah! now I underftand it..
FATHER. Thus, young Robinſon grew 19) 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 tra-
vel through the wide world, that he might daily fee
and liear many new things. :; i ..
But this was inadvertently ſpoken 20) by the
young man. . Nay, if he had been 21) 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 re-
gions, * he muſt firſt acquire a ſufficient ſtock of
knowledge and that was, what he had not yet thought
22) of. ; . :;: .
18) to du. 19) to grow. 20) to ſpeak; 21) to be. 22) to think.
..: He was now already ſeventeen years of age, and
had ſpent 23) moſt of his time in running about.
Every day he was: teaſing his father to give him per-
million to travel: his father anſwered he was a fool,
and that he would not liſten to him. Son! Son!
his mother would cry, fiay in thy country and get
an honeſt livelyhood.
One day – į
CILARLOTTE. Now! we ſhall hear it!
.. NICOLAS. Oh! filence !
FATHER. One day, when according to his cuſ-
tom, he was loitering abont the port, he met 24)
with one of his comrades, who was ſon to * a cap-
tain of a ſhip, and juſt ready to go with his father
io London.
.
FredEŘIC. In a coach ?
: . DICK. No, Frederic, to go to London they
nuſt 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 with him? Witli all my heart, anſwer'd
Crusoe, but my parents will not permit me. Why,
replied the other, come along with us, for ſport's
fake ! We ſhall be back again in three weeks time,
and you may inform your parents of what is beco-
me of you.
. ,,But I have no money about me! ſaid Crusoe
-- „ Never mind,“ anſwered the other ; „I'll pay
your expences“
Young Robinson heſitated a few moments; then
·23) to ſpend. 24) to meeti
25
took 25) his comrade by the hand and cried out:
„Done! I'll go with you, my boy! come let's 26)
go quickly on board!“ – Ile then found 27) ſome
perfon, to tell his father fome hours after: that he
had only taken a trip over to England and would
ſoon be back. And now theſe two friends went 28)
together on board. -
John. Fie! I don't like this Robinson.
NICOLAS. Nor I neither.
Friend. B. But why not? .:.
Jorn. Wly, becauſe he can go away from his
parents, without their permiſſion.
TRIEND B. You are 29) right, John, it was in-
deed very fiupid of him! and we muſt pity his firze
pidity. Happily, there are not måtty young folks,
lo filly as * not to know their duty towards their
parents.
NICOLAS. 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 forget, what they owe to their pa-
rents, can never proſper in the world.
John. Well, let us hear, what became of Ró.
binson.
FATHER. The ſailors - or the ſhip's crew -
weighed anchor, and hoiſted the fails, and when
the wind filled them, the captain took his farewell of
the town by firing fix guns. Young Robinson, being
25) to také. 26) i. e, let us. 27) to findi 28) to go. 29)
to be.
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 favour-
able, that in a ſhort ſpace of time they loſt 30) fight
of the town. of Hamburgh. The next day they are
rived off Rittzebuttle, where the Elb falls into the
ſea, and now they entered into the open ſea. .
How. Robinſon was amazed, when he ſaw 31)
nothing but * [ky and water before him! The land,
he departed from, * began 32) to diſappeare by de-
grees. Now, he could ſee nothing more of it but
the large beacon ,. which. Hamburgh keeps on the
iſland of Helgoland. This alſo diſappeared in a fiort
time, and now he ſaw, nothing but the heavens abo-
ve him and water on all ſides. .
· THEOPHILUS, What a proſpect that muſt be!«:
TRIEND R. Perhaps you will enjoy it in a ſhort
time..
THEOPHILUS. How ſo?: .
FRIEND, R. If you be * veryattentive in your
geographical leſſons, and learn , what-roads* to keep,
in going from one place to another -
· FATHER. Yes, and if by working and tempe-
rance in eating and drinking you harden your con- ,
ftitutions every day, ſo, that you may be able to
bear the fatique of ſuch a journey, we may one day
or other make a tour to Travemund on the Baltic
ſea -
ALL. Oh! Oh!
30) to loſe. 31) to ſee. 32). to begin.
FADHÉR:#" There we go on board * a ſhip, and
ſail a couple of miles ont at ſea.
(Here: they all-Sprung up from the ground, embra-
ced the father's neck, arms and knees, expreſſing
their joy by cireffes, clapping with their hands;
I hopping and jumping about.)
: - MOTHER. Will you not take me along with
you? . .
. . .
72 CHARLOTTE. Ay, if you can walk ſo far! -
But it is very far — is not it, Papa Ź - perlíaps
farther than * Wansbeck, where Mr. Claudius lives,
and another gentleman, who has a large houſe and
garden: oh, ſo large, lo large! much larger than
our garden; I have been there already, have n't I,
Papa? when we were looking ahout the fields for
fine pebbles, and . . .
· FATHER Vliere we ſaw how the people
plough'd .....
CHARLOTTE. Ay, and where we went 33) into
the ſmith's Chop, by the road - fide - . : :
FATTER. Ay, and where we mounted up to
the windmill
.: CHARLOTTE. Ali, yes! where the wind blev
my hat off-
FATHER, Which the miller's. bay brought back
to you. .: :. .
..CHARLOTTE, That was a very good boy, was
not he. Papa ? :
FATHER A very good boy, indeed, who was
85.) to go.
28
ſo ready to do 'us a favour, altho' he had never
ſeen 34) us before !
Charlotte. You gave 35) him ſomething, did
36) not you, Papa ? —
: FATHER. To be ſure. I did! Every one likes
to oblige and reward good people who behave kind.
ly towards us. – But we forget our Robinson; we
muſt make halie to overtake him, otherwiſe we
Shall loſe light of him. For his ſhip fails excee-
dingly fafi!
Weather and wind continued fine and favourable
for two days. On the third the ſky became 37) clou-
dy. It grew 38) 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 not ceaſe to roar. The rain fell down
in torrents, and a moft dreadful ſtrom agitated the ſea
in ſuch a manner, that the waves went 39) moun-
tains high.
There you ſhould 40) have ſeen, how the Chip
rolled up and down! One wave carried her * up to
the ſky, another precipitated her again as it were
into an abyſs; a while ſhe lay 41) on one fide, 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. Ro-
84) to ſee. 35) to give. 56) to do. 37) to become. 38)
to grow. 39) to go 40) Chall. 41) to ly. (lie.) i
binson not uſed to all this, grew dizzy, began to
vomit and grew ſo tick, that he thought 42) he
ſhould have died. This they call ſea - fickneſs,
Jonin. Now he got 43) his deſerts!
FATHER, „Oh my dear parents! my poor pa-
rents“ 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 lighting has ſplit our foremalt, and our mainmaſt
is quite loole too, ſo that it muſt be cut away, and
Aung 44) over board. 66
„We are loſt!“ cried another voice, from the
hold , „ the ſhip has ſprung 45) a leak, and there
are already four foot * water in the hold!
Robinson who was ſitting in the cabin on the
floor, at theſe words, fell 46) dowo. All hands.
were ſenſeleſs called to the pumps, if poſible, to
keep the ſhip above water. At lafi a failor 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 our-ſelves to death?
He then got 47) up, weak as he was, and went
to one of the pumps. In the mean time the captain
42) to think. 43) to get. 44) to fing. 45) to ſpring.
46) to fall. 47) to get
30
ſnippoſe a man from America · ſhould juſt now fall
into our pond: ſhould we wait and aſk him firli,
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 Hambur-
gliersi, nor Europeans', nor Chrifiianis, but Turks
from Smyrna, which place is ſituated in Afia.
John. I did not think Turks to be ſo good
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, ſirove 53) a long while ir
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 *
fiern, that by means of a rope, they lauled the boat
to the ſhip, and then every one of the ſhip's com-
pany jumped in: Robinſon, unable to liand, was
thrown 54) in by ſome' compaſſionate ſailors.
They had ſcarce roved four cables length from
the ſhip, when they ſaw 55) her founder. Happily
for them, the ſtorm began now to abate a little:
elſe, the boat with all the people in it would cer-
tainly have been ſwallowed up by the waves. At lali,
after many dangers, they reached the ſhip, where
they were all taken on borad.
THEOPHILUS. Oh, I am very glad, the poor
people are not drowned!
53) to ſtrive. 54) to throw. 55) to ſee.
.31
ordered ſome guns to be fired, as a fignal of dift-
reſs 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 failor,
who took 48) his place, thruſt him aſide and left
49) him for dead.
- They pumped with all their firengthi, but the
water in the hold angmented ſo much, trát every.
moment it was thought, 50) the ſhip would foun.
der. In order to lighten her, tliey flung every thing
they could ſpare over board, as: the guns, bales ,
caſks. etc, but all to no purpoſe. . . . . ii
In the mean time another ſhip had heard the
lignal of difìrels, and ſent 51) 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 tolt 52) 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. i.
NICOLAS." Theſe people were: certainly from
Hambro' too?'.. ::
: TATIER. What makes you think To ? :
NICOLAS. Becanſe they were ſo ready to allift
this Hamburgh - Veſel, and even ventured their li
ves for her fake!
...: FATHER, , Muſt we then aſlift our country-meni
only: Cure, that is not your meaning, dear Nicolas !
48) to take. 49) to leaye. 50) to think. 51) to ſend,
..52) to toſs.
32
FREDERIC, I was in great fear for them.
CHARLOTTE. This will teach maſter Robinson
to be more * prudent for the future.
MOTHER. I think ſo too, now he will grow wiler.
Dick. But what became of him, now, he was
on board of the other ſhip?
FATHER. The thip, which had received him
and all his comrades on board, was bound 56) for
London. In four day's they made 57) the mouth of
the Thames and ſoon after they caſt anchor at London.
FREDERIC. Pray what is the mouth of the
Thames ?
FRIEND R. The Thames is a river, like our Elb,
falling into the ſea not far from London. The pla-
ce, where a river falls into the ſea, is called the
of that river.
. FATHER. They now all went åſhore, and eve-
ry one was greatly rejoiced to liave 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 58) the paſt and the future. At laſt
his ſtomach put him in inind, that to live in the
great city of London, he muſt alſo eat and drink.
He therefore went to his captain and begged his lea-
ve to dine with him.
This man received him with great hoſpitality.
At dinnet, he aſked our Robinson the proper reaſon
of his coming to London, and what he now inten-
ded to do there?
56) to bind. 57) to make. 58) to forget.
NM
.. Robinson then frankly told 59) him, that he
was only come for pleaſure, and even without the
knowledge and conſent 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 6n) front his hand. „Good God, why
was not I ſooner apprized of this !". „Believe me,
imprudent young man, "continued le, „had I known
this, at Hamburgh, I would not have taken you on
board, if you had offer'd me a million for your pal-
fage!“
All this while Robinson ſat 61) quite abaſhed
with his eyes. caſt down... :
. The honeft captain continued to repreſent to
him how very wrong he had' acted ſaying: he was
allured that he could never profper, till he mended
and had obtained the forgiveneſs of his parents. Ro-
binson ſhed bitter tears.
.. But what can I do now? ſaid he at laſt, fob-
bing. :
„Do?“ anſwered the captain ; - , why! you
muſt' return to your parents, embrace their knees,
and with filial repentance, beg their pardon for your
inconfiderate bellaviour. ,,
:: CHARLOTTE. That was a good and honeſt man,
that captain ; was he not, Papa ?
FATHER. He did what every one ought to do,
when he ſees his fellow- creature go altray: he re-
minded the young man of his duty.
59) to tell. 60) to drop. 61) to fit.
VI.
(3)
» Will you take me with you, to Hambro'
again? " ſaid Robinson.
„I?“ anſwered the captain, „, have you then
forgot, that my ſhip is loft ? 62) I ſhall not return
there before I have gotten 63) another, and this will
takë up more time than you are allowed to ſtay he-
re. You muſt return to Hamburgh , by the very
firſt' vellel, that ails thither, and that the * ſooner
the better. “
.. „But I have no money!” ſaid Robinson.
„Here, “anfwered the captain, ,, are ſome gui.
neas for you -“
THEOPHILUS. Pray, what are guineas ?
FATHER. Engliſlı money, my dear: gold-coin,
like a Louisd'or, of about fix dollar's value; I'll
ſhew you one, when we go in.
JOFEN. Oh but let us continue ;
FATHER. „Here, “ anſwered the brave captain,
», 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 harbour, and beſpeak a place on
board * a ſhip. If you fincerely repent, God will
grant you a ſafer return, than our voyage hither
has been.“ Upon which he ſhook 64) him hearti.
ly by the hand, and wiſhed him a ſafe return. .
Robinson went away -
NICOLAS. Oh now he is returning home again?
I thought 65) we were to have ſome adventures
firft!
MOTHER. Are you not glad, dear Nicolas, to
62) to loſe. 63) to get. 64) to ſhake. 65) to think. -
35
ſee him returning home to his parents, who pro-
bably are in great trouble for him !
*FRIEND R. And don't you rejoice to ſee him ree
pent of his wrongs and that he proniiſes to mend?
· NICOLAS. O yes, I do; but I thought the moſt
entertaining part was yet to come.
FATHER. He is not yet at home; let us hear,
what further happened to him!
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 fireets in London! “
He fiopt 66) ſhort in his walk, his head filled
with reflexions.
He now thought, he would not return yet; but
then he recollected again, what the captain had
told 67). lim : that he would never be happy, unleſs
he returned to his parents and obtained their pardon.
He was for a long while at a loſs what to reſolve
upon. At laſt however, he went to the harbour.
There he heard, to his inexpreſfible joy, that
there was then ‘no ſhip in loading for Hamburgh.
The man,, who informed him of this, belonged to
a Guinea - tradera.
FREDFRIC. What is a Guinea - trader?
FATHER. Let Dick tell you, he knows, what
it is.
66) to ſtop. 67) to tell.
Dick. Don't you remember, there is a coun.'
try, called Africa ? well, one fea - coaſt of it -
FREDERIC: Coali!
: Dick. Yes, or the land cloſe to the ſea - Look,
I have juſt my little maps here! -- This tract of
land, winding down this way, is called the coaſt
of Guinea.
FATHER. And the ſhips, that fail 'thither, are
Guinea men. And the Man, Robinson ſpoke 68)
with, was captain of ſuch a ſhip. .
This Captain liked Robinson's converſation, and
invited him to drink a diſh of tea with him on
board; which Robinson conſented to.
JOHN. Could that captain fpeak German then ?
FATHER. I forgot to tell you, that Robinson
had gotten 69) a (mattering 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
foon, propoſed him, to fail with him to Guinea.
Robinson at firſt ſtarted at the idea. But when the
captain allured him, that the voyage was very plea-
ſant, and that he ſhould go as' a companion with
him, without paying any thing, and that poſlibly
he might be a gainer by this voyage: the blood ruſh-
ed into his face, and his deſire of travelling beca-
me 70) ſo violent, that he forgot 71) all the good
counſel, which the honeſt Hamburgh captain had
C
68) to ſpeak. 69) to get. 70) to become. 71) to forget.
given him, and what a few minutes before he him-
ſelf had reſolved to do.
„But. “ ſaid he, after having pauſed a little,
„ I have but three guineas. What can I buy for fo
little money, to trade with at the place we are go-
ing to ? “*
„I'll lend you fix guineas more, " anſwered
the captain. „For this Money you may buy as ma-
ny goods, as will be ſufficient for you to become
a rich man in Guinea; if * fortune favour * us ever
ſo little. " .
„And what ſhall I then buy for my nine gui-
neas ? « faida Robinson,
The captain anſwered; mere trifles, - all ſorts
of toys, glaſsbeads, knives, ciſars, hatchets, ribands,
fivelocks etc. – And the blacks of Guinea are ſo
fond of all theſe things, that they will give you an
laundred times the value of them in gold-dult, ivo-
ry and other valuable things. . .
· Now Robinson could withſtand no longer, he
forgot his parents, friends and country, and joyful.
ly cried out: I'll go with you, captain.“ „Agreed
anſwered the other: and ſo they ſtruck 72) "hands,
and the voyage was reſolved upon. .
JOHN. Well ! now I'll have no more conpallon
withi this ſtupid Robinson, tho' he ſhould be ever
ſo miſerable. in
FATHER. No companion, Sohni?
John. No, Papa; why is he ſo ſtupid, as * to
forget his duty to his parents again, God Almighi-
. 72) to (trike.
7
38
ty. * muſt certainly puniſh him again for ſuch wick-
edneſs. -
FATHER. And do you think that ſuch an unfor-
tunate perſon, who can ſo forget his parents, and
wliom God Almighty mult correct' by puniſhments,
deſerves no compaſſion? I grant that he is the cauſe
of all * hie is going to ſuffer again, but is le not the
more unfortunate for it? Oh my ſon, God preſerve
you and us all, from the moſt dreadful of all ſuffe-
rings , 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 ſilent 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 captain had adviſed him, and ſent 73)
them on board.
À few days after, the wind proving favourable
the captain ordered the anchor to be weighed, and
thus they ſailed away from London.
Dick. What. way were they then to take, in
order to ſail for Guinea ? .
FATHER. You have your little maps there ; co-
me I will then you! Look here, from London they
fail down the Thames, into the Northſea; then they
lieer weſtward thro’ the firaits of Calais into the
75) to ſend.
Channel. From thence they enter the Ațlantic-Oce-
an 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 whichi
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 fail, 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 con-
tinued.. .
FATTIER, To morrow, to morrow! my chil-
dren, you ſhall hear what further happenend to our
Robinson. Now to ſupper!
ALL. To fupper! to ſupper!
SECONDE V E N IN G.
The follow.ing evening, when all the company was
aſſembled and was again Teated in the ſame place,
the Father reſurned his ſtory as follows:
This new voyage again proyed very proſperous
at firſt. They had already without any accident pal-
ſed the Channel and were now in the Atlantic Oce-
an. Here the Wind blew 74) for many days fo
contrary, that they were continually driven 75) to-
wards America.
Look Children, I have brought 76) a large map
with me, on this you can ſee more plainly than
upon a ſmall one, what. way the ſhip was to fieer.
and whither ſhe was driven by contrary winds.
Here down this way they intended to fail, but the
wind proving contrary, they were, againſt their
will, driven to where you ſee America. I'll fix the
map againſt that tree, ſo that, if neceſſary, we may
eaſily caſt an eye upon it.
One evening the mate cried, that he ſaw 77) a
fire at a great diſtance, and at the ſame time, they
74) to blow. 75) to drive. 76) to bring. 77) to Sce.
a
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, 78) that there could be no
land within an hundred miles“ diſtance; therefore
they all were of opinion that it was a ſhip on fire.
They immediately reſolved to lend theſe unfor-
tunate people all poſſible alfiſtance, and directed their
courſe towards them. They could ſoon very dif-
tinctly ſee, what-they at firſt had ſuppoſed; for they
now beheld 79) a large veſſel all in a blaze. .
The captain ordered five guns to be inſtantly
fired, to acquaint theſe hapleſs lufferers, that a ſhip
was near, and haftening to relieve them. The guns
were ſcarce fred, when, with terror, they beheld
the burning ſhip fly up into the air, with a dreadful
explofion and ſoon after all was funk 80), and the
fire extinguiſh'd; for the ſame had got 81) to the
powder - room of the ſhip...
What was become of the unhappy people, was
yet a mystery. It was poffible, that they had ſaved
themſelves in their boats, before the ſhip blew 82)
up; therefore the captain continued firing his guns
all night, to let the poor people know, where about
the Chip was, that wiſhed to relieve them. He alſo
ordered all the lanthorns to be hung 83) out, that
they mighi ſee the ſhip. At break of day they ac-
tually diſcovered by means of their perſpective glaſ-
ſes two boats full off people, toſſed up and down
78) to find. 79) to behold. 80) to ſink. 31) to ĝeť.
32) to blow. 83) to hang.
42
.
the waves, rowing tawards the ſhip with all their
might, the wind blowing in their teeth * The cap-
tain immediately ordered a flag to be hoified as a
ſignal of their being ſeen by the ſhip, which haſie-
ned to their relief, ånd making all the ſail they could
joined them in half an * hoür.
Thefe unhappy, confilting of fixty people, men
women and children, were all received on board.
It was an affecting ſcence to behold theſe poor peo-
ples when they ſaw themſelves in faſety? Some wept
84) áloud for joy; others roared for fear, as if the
danger was but beginning; ſome were ſeen jumping
about the deck like madmen; others pale as death,
were wringing their hands; ſome were laughing,
dancing and ſhouting like inſane people; others on
the contrary, ſtood 85). dumb and lifeleſs, and were
unable to pronounce a word.
: Now ſome of them fell (86) on their knees, lif-
ting up their hands to heaven, and thanked God
· Almighty aloud, whoſe providence had ſo miracula
ouſly preſerved them.
Then they jumped up again, hopped about like
children, tore 87) their garments, wept, 88) fainted
away and could ſcarce be recalled to life. Even the
moſt unfeeling ſailor could not help ſhedding a ſym-
pathifing tear at this fight.
. Amongſt theſe unfortunate people there was alſo
a clergyman, who of all others behaved the moſt
manly and with the greateſt dignity. At his firſt
84) to weep. 85) to ſtand. -86) to fall. 87) to tear 88) to
weep.
43
ftep upon deck, he laid himſelf hat down upon his
face, and ſeemed quite lifeleſs. The captain; belie-
ving him in a fit, ftept 89) up to him, to lend him
affifiance; but the clergyman with the greateſt com-
poſure thanked him for his compaſſion, and ſaid:
» Give me leave to thank my Créator firſt for our
preſervation; and then I ſhall alſo tell you how
much I acknowledge your compaſſion with the war.
meſt thanks.“ The captain reſpectfully withdrew go)
Having remained for ſome minutes in that pole
ture, he chearfully aroſe, 1) went up to the cap-
tain and heartly thanked him too. Hereupon he tur-
ned to his companions, exhorting 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 unxepected pre-
ſervation of their lives; * and his exhortations had
a good effect on many of them.
He then related, who they were, and what had
happened to them. .
Their ſhip had been a large french merchant-
man, bound for Quebeck - look here for this pla-
ce in America - The fire had brocken 2) out in
the lieerage, and had burnt with ſuch violence, that
it was impoffibe for them to extinguiſh it; they even
had ſcarce had time enough to fire ſome guns, and
to ſave themſelves in their boats.
In this ſituation none of them knew what would
be their fate at laft. It was moſt probable, they
ſhould all be buried in the waves by leaft ſtorm,
89) to ſtep. 90) to withdraw. 1) to ariſe. 2) to break.
44
ór be ſtarved for want of proviſions, becauſe they
had only had tinie to provide themſelves with bread
and water from the burning (hip, for a couple of
days.
FREDERIC. What need had they to take in wa-
ter, being ſurrounded with it on all ſides ?
...FATHER. You have forgotten 3), dear Frede-
ric, that ſea- water is ſo ſalt and bitter that no bo-
dy can drink it.
- FREDERIC. Yes! Yes!
-... FATHER. In this dreadful litiration they had*
heard the guns.fired from the engliſh Chip, and foon
after perceived the lanthorns, hung 4) up. They
had ſpent 5) the whole of this diſmal night between
fear and hope, being continually driven farther a-
way from the ſhip, in ſpite of the utmoft exertion
of their united ſtrength, to come nearer up witlı
her. At laſt the long wiſhed for day-light put an
end to their miſery. ..,
Robinson all this while ſtruggled with terrible
ideas. ',, Heavens!“ 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, to expect for the
future! “ This thought lay like a heavy burthen on
his heart; he ſat 6) pale and ſpeechleſs, like one
tormented by a bad conſcience, in a corner, wrin-
ging his hands, ſcarce daring to pray, ' becauſe he
thought it impoſſible for God to love him any lon-
ger.
: 5 ) to forget. 4) to hang. 5) to ſpend, 6) to fit.
MOTHER See, what it is to be conſcious of
wicked actions! Then we find no confort in God,
then we always fear the worſt, becauſe we feel,
that we deſerve to be miſerable. Oh! that is a woo
ful condition.
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 ſaving their
lives.
jy God forbid, “ cried the captain ; s. I hould ta-
ke any thing from you! I have done no more, than
what humanity prompted me to do, and what I ſhould
expect to receive myſelf from you or any other's
when in the ſame circumſtances. "
In vain did the grateful man preſs the captain,
to accept his preſent, he perſiſted in his refuſal and
begged him to ſay no more of it. – After this, tlie
queftion was: where theſe preſerved people could be
ſet on ſhore? To take them along to Guinea was
not adviſable for two obvious reaſons. For, in the
firſt place. Why ſhould theſe people make a voyage
to ſo difiant 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
46
At laſt our brave captain reſolved to fail back a
hundred leagues and more, for the ſake of theſe
poor people, to Newfoundland, where they might
eaſily find an opportunity of returning to France, by
ſome veſſel or other employed in the codhſhery..
CHARLOTTE. What ſort of fiſh are they?
· JOHN. Have you forgotten, what Papa told 7)
us about cod, how they come down from the fro-
zen ſea, to the banks of Newfoundland, where they
are caught 8) in ſuch great quantities ?
CHARLOTTE, Yes, now I remember.
· JOHN. Look, this is Newfoundland here above,
cloſe by America, and thoſe points there ſignify thie
fand banks! — well, now the people that catch them,
are called codfiſhers. In
· FATHER. Thither they fieered, and it being
juſt then the fiſhing ſeaſon, there were many french
veſels, who willingly took 9) theſe poor wretches
on board, and their gratitude towards the good cap-
tain 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 vellel cul the waves
with more, rapidity than a bird does the air, and in
a ſhort time they had again made ſome hundred mi-
les. Now this was an unſpeakable pleaſure for our
Robinson, who could never go faſt enough, becau-
ſe his mind was never at reſt!
After they had been ſteering for ſome days weſt-
7) to tell.' 8) to catch. g) to take. 10) to loſe.
.
47
ward, they ſuddenly diſcovered a large ſail making to-
wards them. 'Soon after they heard ſome guns, fired
as in diſtreſs, and then perceived ſhe had loft 10) her
foremali and bowſprit. '
NICOLAS, Bowſprit ? .
FATHER. Sure you know, what that is?
NICOLAS. Oh yes, I remember, it is the ſmall
malt, that does not fiand erect like the reſt, but lies ·
down on the fore part of the vellel flicking out li-
ke a beak.
· FATHER. Very right. They now likeweiſe fieer-
ed towards this damaged ſhip, and when they we-
re near enough to be lieard, the people on board of
her ſcreamed out to them, with uplifed hands and
lamentable looks. : :
„ Oh good folks! rescue a ſhip full of people, who
muſt all periſh, if you have no compaffion on them"
Upon which, they were all questioned of what
nature their miſfortune was, when one of them ga
ve the following account:
„, We are engliſhnen, bound for the iſland of
Jamaïca; (look children, here in the middle of Ame-
rica) to fetch a cargo of fugar. Whilſt we lay at
anchor and were juſt ready to take in our loading,
our captain and firſt mate went on Chore, upon ſome
buſineſs. But in their abſence there aroſe 11) ſuch
a terrible tempest, that our cable broke 12), and
we were driven out to ſea. The hurricane - "
THEOPHILUS. What is a hurricane ? ..
FATHER. A moſt violent whirling ſtorm, which
10) to loſe. 11) to ariſe. 19) to break.
ariſes from the vehemence of ſeveral winds, blow-
ing from different quarters againſt each other -
„The hurricane continued for three days and
three nights; ſucceſſively we loſt our malts and we-
re driven away-many hundred miles. Unhappily for
us, we have not one man on board that underſtands
navigation; ſo that we have been tolled abont theſe
nine weeks, without knowing where we are, or
what will become of us. All our proviſions are ex-
haufted, and moſt of us half familhed“
: The generous captain immediately order'd the
boat to be hoilfted out, and having taken in ſome
proviſions, he and Robinson went on board of the
diftreſſed ſhip
There they found 13) the whole crew in the
moſt wretched fituation. All their faces looking pale
and ſtarved, and many were unable to ſtand. But
when they entered the cabin - God! what a dread-
ful fight! there lay a mother with her ſon and a young
maid ſervant, in all appearance ftarved to death. The
mother fat 14) ftiff on the ground, between two
chairs faſtened together, with her head leaning a-
gainſt the ſhip's fide; 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 pie-
ce of a leathern glove in his mouth, wihch he had
been gnawing. .
CHARLOTTE. Oh dear Papa! why do you make
it ſo mournful?
:: FATHER. You are right: I forgot that you don't
13) to find. 14) to fit.
like to hear fuch things, ſo I'll e'en * pals over this
part of Robinson's hiſtory -
- All. O no! no! dear Papa, let's * have it all,
pray!.
FATHER. Well if you chuſe to bave - But pre.
viouſly I muſt tell you, who theſe poor people-we-
re, that lay there in ſuch a dreadful ſituation.
They were pallengers, who were come with
this veſel from England to Jamaica, and had been
obliged to remain on board for ſome days, becauſe
the young man's mother was taken ill. The whole
crew ſaid, they were very good fort of people. The
mother had loved her ſon to ſuch an exceſs, that ſhe
would no longer eat a bit, but ſpared it for her be-
loved ſon. And that dutiful fon had done the ſame
again for his dear mother. Even tbe faithful maid
ſervant had been more concerned and anxious for
her Milireſs and Maſter than for herſelf.
Every one thought 15), they were really dead
all the three, but on a nearer examination fome fymp-
toms of life were diſcovered in them. For after ha-
ving poured a few drops of broth into their mouths,
their eyes began to open by degrees. But alas! the
mother was too far gone 16) to ſwallow any thing,
and after having intimated by figns to take all pof-
fible care of her ſon, ſhe really expired. .
The young man and the maid were, by proper
medicines , brought 17) to themſelves again, and be-
ing yet young, the captain ſucceeded in his endea-
vours to ſave their lives. But when the young man
15) to think. 16) to go. 17) to bring,
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 proper care, he as well as the naid were per-
fectly reliored to life again..
· The captain then provided them with as much
proviſions as he could ſpare ; his carpenters repaired
the broken 18) maſt as well as they could; he alſo
inſtructed them how to fieer in order to make the
neareſt land, which were the Canaries. He now di-
rected his courſe the ſame way, in order to take in
freſh proviſions...
One of them you know is Madeira. :
Dick. Yes, that belongs to the Portugueſe,
i Joun. Where the fine Madeira Winę grows!'
THEOPHILUS. And the Sugar canes!..
CHARLOTTE. And where there are ſo many ca-
nary birds,
FATHER. The ſame. At this iſland then, the
captain landed, and Robinson went on ſhore with
him.
.:. He could not ſatiate his eyes with the glorious
proſpect, which this fertile iſland afforded. As far
as his eyes could ſee, he ſaw the mountains all co-
vered with vines. How his mouth watered at the
fight of the delicious grapes that hung 19) 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 lear-
. 18) to break. 19) to haug.
.
ned, that the wine was not made there by means
of a preſs, as they do in other countries
THEOPHILUS. And how tlien ?
TATHER. They put the grapes into a large woo-
den veſel, and then they either tread the juice out
with their feet, or ftamp it out with their elbows.
CHARLOTTE, Fie! I like-ulot to drink Maderia-
wine!
John. Nor I! if it were even made with the
wine preſs.
FREDERIC. But why not, pray ? .
- Joux. 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. Chil-
dren who often drink wine and other ſtrong liquors
become weak and ftupid.
FREDERIC. Then I will never drink wine any
more,
FATHER. You will do very well, my child!
The captain being obliged to fiay here ſome tie
me, to refit his ſhip, which had ſuffered a little:
our Robinson grew 20) tired of the place in a few
days. His uneaſy mind longed again for new ſcenes,
and he wiſhed to have wings that he might fly
through the world.
In the interim a portugueſe Chip arrived from
Lisbon, bound for Brazil in America.
(20) to grow. i . . . . . .
a
..Dick. (Pointing to the map.). To this country
here, belonging to the portugueſe, where ſo much
gold-duſt and diamonds are found; is it not, Papa?
i FATHER. The very lame — Robinson made 21)
acquaintance 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, tliat he might, fill
his pockets with ſuch fine things.
NICOLÁS. Then he had never heard, I ſuppoſe
that 110 body is allowed to pick up any gold or dia-
monds 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 enga
liſh Chip would at lealt remain a fortnight longer,
he could not withliand the temptation, and plainly
told his friend the engliſh captain, that he was
going to leave him, in order to fail for Brazil. This
worthy man, who but lately had heard from Ro-
binson himlelf, 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 Eng-
land, and gave him many good leſſons into the bar-
gain. . : :
: : :
Having bade 22) an adieu to the engliſh captain,
Robinson went 23) on board of the portugueſe vele
el, and they preſently got under ſail for Brazil.
21) to make: 22) to bid. 23) to go.
.
-53
They ſteered by Teneriff, 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 eve-
ning, long after fun fet, and tlie Tea all' overſpread
with darkneſs, to ſee the top of this mountain, one
of the higheſt in the whole world, ftill glowing
with ſunbeams as if it were on fire,
Some days after they had another very agreeable
fight upon the ſea. A great number of flying fiſh
roſe above the ſurface of the water, that Clione 24)
like poliſhed filver, ſo that they cauſed a luftre like
that of a burning candle. ..
.. FREDERIC. Are there any fiſh, that can fiy?
TATHER. O yes, I think we have ſeen one ale
ready. .
THEOPHILUS. Oh 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 profperons for many
days : but ſuddenly there aroſe a violent ſtorm, from
the ſouth eaſt. The foaming billows roſe 25) as high
as mountains, whilſt the ſhip was tolled up and
down by them. This dreadful ſtorm continued fix
days and nights without any intermiſſion, and the
Chip was ſo far driven from her courſe, that neither
24) to ſhine. 25) to riſe.
:?
54
the mate nor the captain knew where they were;
however they thought 26) themſelves to be near the
Caribbee - iſland's -- (hereabouts)
On the ſeventh day, juſt when it began 27) to
dawn, one of the ſailors cried out Land!' to the in-
expreſſible joy of all 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 'Thore, 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 graſsplot.
MOTHER. Just as your pleaſe ; ſo children let
me not detain you from liſtening to your fiory; whi-
le I am preparing things for ſupper.
: ALL. Ohtliat'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' clianged into the greateſt terror.
The Chip began to crack, and all that were on
deck, got ſuch a violent ſhock, that they fell 28)
flat down.
· JOHN. What was the matter?
FATHER. The ſlip had firuck 29) upon a land-
bank, and in that moment ſtuck 30) lo faſt in it,
as if ſhe had been nailed to the ground. Preſently
: 26) to think. 27) to begin. 28). to fall. 29) to ſtrike.
30) to ſtick.
after the ſea broke over her in ſuch a manner,
that they all ran to the ſteerage and cabin, 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 cry:
ing; ſome were wringing their hands as in a fit of
deſpair, others food liiff and as immoveable, as if'
they had been dead.' Robinson was among the lat-,
ter, more dead than alive.
All of a ſudden one cried, the ſhip 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 diftance from the land,
and the ſtorm was fo violent, that every body thought
it almoſt an impoſſibility to reach the ſhore. How-
ever they plied their oars, with the utmoſt diligence
and very luckily had the wind with them.
Preſently they ſaw a wave like a lofty mountain
rolling aftern of them. At this dreadful fight, they
all liiffen'd with terror, and dropt 31) their cars,
51) to drop.
56
Now the frightful moment aproached ! The mona
ſtrous wave reached the boat, overfèt it and they
all funk 32) down into the raging ſea ! "
(Here the father ſtopt 33); the whole company re-
mained ſilent and many of them heaved a ſigh
of compaſſion. At length the mother appeared
with a rural ſupper, and put an end to theſe mo-
ving ſenſations.)
32) to ſink. 33) to ſtop.
THIRD E V E NING,
I HEOPHILUS. Is Robinson now really dead then,
dear Papa? . . . . .
FÁTIIER. We left 34) lim laſt night in the
moſt imminent danger of his life. When the boat
was overſet, he and all his companions were 35)
ſwallowed upin a moment. -- But the ſame monfirous
wave bore 36) him along towards the ſhore, and
dashed him with ſuch violence againſt a piece of a
rock, that the pain of it rouled him from the ſlum-
bers of death, which liad 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 clanber up the clifts of the fhore.
He fucceeded, and being then quite tired and
almoſt ſpent, he fank 37) 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 fight!
There was nothing to be ſeen, neither the ſhip, the
34) to leave. 55) to be. 56) to bear. 37) to ſink.
58
boat, nor his#companions, except ſome planks, which
the waves had waſhed on flore. He, only he, had
eſcaped death. .
Trembling with joy and terror he fell on his
kuees,. 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 -pre-
ſerved him, -
· JOHN. But why did God Almighty preſerve Ro-
binson alone, and why did he ſuffer all the reſt to
periſh?
TATIIER. My dear John, are you always able
to diſcover the realons,' why we grown people,
wlio love you heartily, make * you ſometimes do
one thing and ſometimes another?' . '
John. No!
FATHER. For inſtance lately, when the weather
was ſo fine, and we all lo deſirous to make an ex-
curſion to the Tourlands *), what did I then?
John. Why, then poor Nicolas was obliged to
remain at home, and the reſt of us went to Wans-
bcek, and ìot to the Four-lands, as we wiſhed.
FATHER. And willy was I then ſo ſevere upon
poor Nicolas, that I, would not ſuffer him to go
along with us ?. .
Nicolas. Oh that I know very well! Brom-
ley', our clerk, came foon 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 l'our - Lands?'
*) A fertile plain Some miles from Ilambro'.
:56
NICOLAS, O much greater! much greater !
FATHER. I knew. 38) before hand, that Brom-
ley was to come and attend you to your parents,
and therefore ordered you to ſtay. — And you John,
whom did you meet in. Wansbeck?
John. My dear Papa and Mana, who were gone
39) thither.
FATHER. Of this alſo I was informed, and for
the ſame reaſon, defired you to go to Wansbeck»
and not to the Four - lands. My arrangement then
did not pleaſe you, becauſe you did not know my
reaſons. But why did not diell them you ?..
JOHN. To afford 11s an unexpected pleaſure, by
meeting our parents, without knowing of it before.
FATHER. Very right; – Now, my children,
do you not think that God Almighty loves his child-
ren, 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 lighted mortals do, who ſo ſeldom know,
wliat is proper and good for us? .
JOHN. O yes! God is omniſcient, and knows
all hat is to come; and that's what we can not.
FATRER. Thus God Almighty, loving all man-
kind ſo tenderly, 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!
68) to kuow. 59) to go.
60 :
FATHER. But can we always know, why God
diſpoſes of us this way, and not otherwiſe ? .!..
• Jonn. If we knew that, we ſhould be as om-
niſcient as he is himſelf!
FATHER. Now dear John, have you a 'mind
to repeat your lafi quefiion once more ?
JOHN. Which ?
FATIFR. Why God preſerved only Robinson
and ſuffered the reſt to periſh? ;
Jorn. No, Papa.
FATIIER. Why not?
Joun. Becauſe I now perceive, that it was an
unreaſonable queſtion.
FATHER. Why' unreaſonable ?
JOHN.. Becauſe God knows belt, why he does
a thing, and that we cannot know! :*
FATHER: Undoubtedly then God Almighty had
his wife and good reaſons for ſuffering the whole crew
to periſh, and lingling Robinson out to be ſaved
but we cannot conceive theſe reaſons. We may in-
deed form some conjectures, but we muſt never
imagine to have hit upon them.
God might; for inſtance have foreſeen, that in
prolonging 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
inmortal ſouls 10 a place, where their condition is bet-
ter than here on earth. He probably ſpared Robin-
son that he might be mended by ſufferings and mi-
fery. 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 al-
ways think of it, when in your future days any
misfortune befalls you, and when you cannot con-
ceive, why your good heavenly Failier has ordered
it ſo. Tlien recollect, that God beſt knows, what
is good for us, and ſuffer willingly, what he has
ordained! He certainly makes us fuffer, to render
us better chan we are; we will therefore fuffer pa-
tiently 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
aſliſtance of any human creature, now he felt 40),
from the inmoſt of his heart, the wrong he had
done; now he fell on his knees and begged pardon
of God for the fins he had committed; he now firm-
ly reſolved to mend and never to do any thing again,
which he knew to be' wrong.
NICOLAs. But, what did he do now? i
FATHER. When the joy he felt for his preſer-
vation had ſubſided, he began to reflect on his pre-
ſent ſituation; he looked around, but he diſcovered
nothing but buſhes and trees without fruit! He ſaw
nothing from which he might conclude that this
country was inliabited.
It was indeed a frightful thought to him, now
to live quite alone in an unknown country. But his
40) to feel.
62
liair ſtood 41) on an end, when he reflected how
he. ſhould live? If there were any wild beaſis or
lavages, for which he could not be ſafe one moment.
FREDERIC. But are there really any ſavages ?
John. Why, yes! did you never liear of them?
there are far , very far from here, nien, who are as
wild as brutes!
THEOPHILUS. Who go almoft naķed, what do
you think of that, Tirederic!
Dick. Ay, and who know ſcarce any thing in
the world, who can build no houſes, have no gar-
dens, and cultivate no fields !
CHIARLOTTE. · And who eat raw fleſh, and raw
fiſh; I remember it very well, Papa? didn't you
tell' us of them. : : .
- John. Ay! and what d'yle think ? theſe poor
people are entirely ignorant :of their Creator; becauſe
they never had an infirucior.
• Dick. For that very reaſon, they are ſo bar-
barous! only think, Come of them even eat wan's-
fleſh!
Frederic.. Oh, what ſhocking people!
FATHER. What unhappy people, you ſhould
fay! Theſe poor wretches are unhappy enough, to
have grown up in ſuch Liupidity and brutiſhneſs.
FREDERIC. Do any of them ever come bere ?
FATHER. No; the countries, where theſe poor
people lives are ſo diftant from here, that none of
them ever come to us. Their number alſo leſſens,
41) to ſtand.
65
becauſe other civilized men, who go to their coun-
try, take pains, to inſtruct and civilize them,
Dick. But pray, were there any in that coun-
try, 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 ftir
from his place, for fear and terror. The leaft noiſe
frightened and ſtartled him.
At laſt he grew. fo. thirfiy, that he could bear it
no longer. He therefore ſaw himſelf forced to look
about for ſome freſh water and very luckily he
found a fine clear (pring, 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 ſuf-
fer me to periſh with hunger! Indeed, he was not
yet very hungry, becauſe fear and terror had taken
away his appetite: but he longed the more for reft.
He was ſo worn 42) 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
42) to wear.
AT
ground under the canopy of Heaven? – But then
lavages and wild beaſis might come and devour lim!
As far as his eyes could reach, he ſaw neither hou-
ſe, hut or cave. He ftood' a 'while qnite comfort-
leſs and knew not what to do..
.
At length he reſolved to paſs the night on a tree
like a bird. He ſoon found one, the bonghs of which
were thick enough,' that he might commodionlly
fit upon one and lean his back againſt ſome others.
He climbed up this tree, 'made his fèrvent prayers
to God, placed himſelf as well as he could and fell
alleep directly,
In his ſleep he dreamt 43) 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 bro-
ken 44) and all on his account! A cold ſweat broke
out at every pore. He cried aloud: Here I am! He-
re I am, my dear parents ! and thus crying, he was
going to throw himſelf into his parents arms, made
a motion in his ſleep, and fell miſerably down from
his tree.
CHARLOTTE, Oh poor Robinson !
TreOPIILUS. I ſuppoſe he is killed by his fall?
FATHER. To his good fortune, he had not been
very high, and the ground underneath was ſo over-
grown with graſs, that he did not fall very hard.
He only felt a ſlight pain in that fide; on which he
had fallen; which, and as he had ſuffered much
more in his dream, he did not value much. He then
45) to dream. 44) to break..
65
climbed up again into the tree, and remained there
till funriſe. .
He then began 45) to reflect, where he might
get ſomething to eat. He had none of thoſe eata-
bles we have in Europe. He had no bread, no meat,
no vegetables, no milk; and tho' he had any of the-
ſe things to boil or roaſt, lie yet wanted fire, iſpit
and pots. All the trees he had hitherto ſeen were
what tliey call Campeclio trees, (Log-wood trees)
which bore 46) nothing but leaves.
John. What ſort of trees are they?
FATHER. Trees, the wood of which dyers ma-
ke uſe of for different purpoſes. They grow in
ſome parts of America, and are brought 47) in great
abundance to Europe. This wood, when boiled,
gives the water a dark red colour, and this the dy-
ers uſe , to fhade 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 be-
fore, 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 parpolu, he found nothing but trees
without fruit and graſs..
in
Being now in the greateſt anxiety, he cried out,
I ſhall ſtarve with hunger, and wept aloud to hea-
ven. Neceffity lowever gave him ftrenght and coul-
rage to run along the ſhore, in order to ſee if it we-
re not poſſible to find ſome eatables at laſt.
45) to begin. 46) to bear. 47) to bring.
(5)
66
.. But all in vain! nothing but Campechio - trees,
nothing but graſs and fand every where! Tired and
exhauſted he flung 48) himſelf with his face to the
ground, cried aloud, and wiſhed he had been drow-
ned rather than to periſh now ſo miſerably with hun-
ger!
He had already reſolved, to wait for a ſlow
and dreadful death in this diſtreſsful ſituation, when
turning accidentally his eyes upwards, he diſcove-
red a gull flying with a fiſh ihro the air. He in-
ftantly recollected to have read ſomewhere : „That God
who feeds the ravens, will not ſuffer man to ſtar-
ve." He now blamed himſelf, for having had ſo
little confidence in God's providence; he then jum-
ped up from the ground, with a firm reſolution,
to walk and ſeek about as long as his ſtrength would
permit him. So he now continued walking along
the Chore and looking about on all fides for ſome-
thing to cat.
At laſt. he found ſome oyfier ſhells lying on the
ſhore. He eagerly ran towards them and carefully
examined the ſpot in hopes of finding ſome real oyo
fters, and to his unſpeakable joy he found ſome.
JOHN. Do oyliers lie ſo ou the ſhore ? :
FATHER. It is not their proper place. Their
abode is in the ſea, where they cling to one ano-
ther againſt the fides of rocks, ſo as to form ſmall
hills, which are called Oyfierbeds, but many of
them are waſhed away by the waves, and carried
48) to fling.
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 waler, 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 obſerved, that the water in the Elb ſometi-
mes riſes higher than uſual, and ſometime after falls
again, ſo that you may then walk, where the wa-
ter 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 [wice in
the courſe of twenty four hours. It continues (wel..
ling on for fix hours and ſome odd mixutes, and
is linking agaiu for a little more than fix hours,
The former they call high and the latter low water;
do you underliand it now?
FREDERIC. I do, but pray, what makes the
water (well and link again?
THEOPHILUS. Oh that I know very well. It
is the moon, that attracts the water ſo as to make
it riſe.
. NICOLAS. Oh we have lieard that ſo often! let
Papa continue 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 ſava-
ges and wild beaſis. 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 Chould
have done.
.:: FATHERWell, and what would you have do.
ne?
. THEOPHILUS. . Why, I would have built-49) a
houſe, with very trick walls and thick iron doors.
I would liave made a ditch all round with a draw-
bridge, which I would have drawn up every night;
and then I am ſure, the favages could not heve hurt
me in my ſleep.
FATHER, Oh clever !. it is great pity you were
not there to allilt poor Robinson with your good
advice! - but, now I think of it: did you ever
49) to build
obſerve with any attention, how carpenters and brick-
layers ſet about building houſes.
THEOPHILUS. O yes ! very often. The bricklay-
ers 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 make them keep faſt to one another. This done,
the carpenters ſquare the beams with their hatchets
and make them fit together. After this they draw
up the beams by a pully an fix them upon the brick-
work. Then they ſaw boards and laths which they
nail upon the rafters to fix the tiles upon; and
then -
FATHER. I fee, 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 carpenters want hatchets,
ſavys, gimlets, nails, ſquares and lammers, 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
defire of building a real houſe was very ſtrong, he
was obliged to give up the ſcheme. He had no oth-
er tools but his two hands, and with them alone
he could not build ſuch a houſe as we live in.
NICOLAS. Wly, then he might at leaſt have
made himſelf a hut of branches, which he might
eaſily break from the trees.
FATHER. And could ſuch a hut of branches ha-
70
ve ſecured him againſt ferpents, wolves, panthers,
tygers, lions and other wild animals ?
: John. Oh poor Robinson! what will now be-
come of you.
NICOLAS. But could he not ſhoot them ?
FATHER. Oh yes, if he had had a gun with pow-
der and balls ! But the poor fellow, we know had noth-
ing of all this, nothing at all, except his two hands!
.Reflecting now on his forlorn condition he a-
gain relapſed into his former deſpondency. What
does it avail me, thought he, ihat I have eſcaped
by wild beaſis at night.
Theſe afflicting thoughts work'd ſo forcibly upon
him, that he really thought, lie ſaw a fierce tyger
ſtanding before him, with his jaws. open and ſhew-
ing his Jarge pointed teeth ; * then falling upon
him and ſeizing him by the throat. In this terrible
fright he cried out: Oh my poor parents ! and then
funk 60) motionleſs to the ground.
Having lain 51) a while in this fit of anxiety
and deſpair, lie recollected, what he liad often heard
his pious mother fing, when any fad accident had
„Whoever places all his truft
» And confidence on God the Lord,
,, When he is ſuffering in the duft,
„The Lord will him relief afford;
„ Whoever trufis his mighty hand,
, Has not his hope built on the ſand.
60) to fink. 52) to lie.
This was a real cordial for him! He repeated
this fine hymn twice, or thrice, with great devo-
tion, then he ſang 52) it áloud, riſing at the ſame ti-
me from the ground, to look about for ſome ca-
vern, 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 toward's
it.
On his way, he made the melancholy obſerya-
tion, that this country bore 53) nothing but un-
fruitful trees and graſs. You may eaſily guels, what
were his reflections on ſeeing ſuch a barren place.
With great difficulty he at laſt climbed up this
pretty high hill, and then took a view of the coun-
try 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 anxiouſly folded and lifted up to hea-
ven. „Is it then true, that I am debarred from all
communication with mankind, forſåken by all, and
no hopes left me of ever being deliver'd from this
dreary deſart? Oh my poor afflicted parents! Am I
then riever to ſee you again! ſhall I never be abla
to beg your pardon for my offence! Shall I never
hear again the comfortable voice of a friend, of a
man!: - But I am rightly ſerved," continued he-
5.) to ſing. 53) to bear.
, Oh Lord, thou dealeft juſtly with me! I have no
right to complain. My fate is frich as I deſerve!..
Abſorbed in theſe deſponding cogitations and as
in a dream he remained motionleſs in the ſame pla-
ce, his ſtaring eyes fixed to the ground. Forſaken
by God and men.“ was all he could utter - Hap-
pily for him he at laſt recollected 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 knces pro-
miſed patience and reſignation in his ſufferings, and
begged for ſtrength to ſupport them.
:: CHARLOTTE. It was very lacky for Robinson
to know ſuch fine lymns, 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 om-
nipreſent father of all mankind, He wou'd have been
overwhelmed with anguiſh and deſpair, if he had
not been taught 54), to think lo of God. But this
very, tliought of his heavenly father, afforded him
always confort and courage, when his miſery ſeems
ed to encreaſe, and made him entirely ſubmit to
the will of Providence.
54) to teach.
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 ſenli-
ble. You know, I am never more pleaſed, than
when I ſpeak of him, who is ſo good, ſo great aud
ſo kind.
CHARLOTTE. Oh eine; and I never liave aily
greater pleaſure, than when you entertain us of
God Almighty. I really long to hear you talk of bim
again. I
FATHER. You have good reaſon for it, Charlot-
te! For when you come to be better acquainted
with God, you will double your endavours to be-
come good, and you will then enjoy much greater
happineſs than you do now. .
Robinson now felt 55) Junſelf greatly ſireng-
thened, and began to ſcramble about the hill. Ilis
endeavours to find out ſome-ſecure retreat, for a
long time, proved unſucceſsful. At length he came
to a ſmall hill, the ſide of which was as freep as a
wall. Upon a nearer examination of that lide, 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 inſtruments, nothing would have been eaſier
than to work out his hollow place, which was part-
ly a rock, to enlarge it, and make it convenient for
66) to feel.
74
.
him to live in. But alas I he had none of theſe in-
ſtruments! Now the queſtion was, what to do to
ſupply their place,
After having puzzled his brain a long while a-
bout it, he ſaid to himſelf: „The trees, I here ſee,
reſſemble the willows of my own country, which
may eaſily be tranſplanted. I will grub up a great
many of thoſe young trees, with my hands, and
plant them round about this hole, ſo cloſe together
as to from 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 from behind I
ſhall be ſheltered by the ſteep rock; and theſe trees
will ſecure me on the other ſide.“.
He was greatly rejoiced at this happy thought,
and directly ran 56) 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 thirft, 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 (pointing 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 fun
ftands ſometimes perpendiculary over the people's
56) to run.
heads. It muſt therefore be very warm in thoſe
quarters.
With a great deal of trouble, he at laft pulled up
fome young trees from the ground with his hands,
and carried them to the place he had choſen 57) 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,
wlien he had planted no more, than five or fix of
his trees.
Urged by hunger, he again returned to the fea
ſhore, to look for ſome oyſters. But unluckily for
him, the tide was up and conſequently he found
none, and was obliged, to lay himſelf down that
night with an empty ſtomach. .
But where could he lie down? -- He had reſolved,
to continue ſleeping on the tree, till he had made
himſelf a ſecurer habitation. Thither he now went.
But to prevent the fame unlucky accident,
that happene to him the night before, he faſtened
himſelf with his garters to that branch, againſt which
he leaned with his back, and having recommended
himſelf to his creator, he fell aſleep.
Jonn. That was well done!
FATHER. Neceſſity teaches us a great deal, which
in other circumſtances we ſhould never have the leaft ide-
a of. For that ſame reaſon God lias diſpoſed the world
and ourſelves ſo, that we have many wants, which
we are obliged to ſatisfy, by reflection and ingenui-
ty. And theſe very wants make us wiſer and more
*57) to choſe,
76
.
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 preſervation
and convenjency 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 deaths.
NICOLAS: God Almighty has then 'done very
wiſely, not to let every thing grow thus ready ma-
de and prepared out of the ground.
FATHER. Juſt as he ordered every thing through-
out the whole creation with infinite goodneſs and
wiſdom.'- But behold! yonder the beautiful eve-
ning ſtar! how friendly it ſparkles above us. This
too, our heavenly Father has created, and we will
go and give him our heartly thanks for the agreeable
day he has granted us -- Come, my children! let
us hand in hand walk to yon bower! -
FOURTH E V ENING.
f AIHER. Well, my good children, where did
we leave our Robinson lal night?
JOHN. He had climb'd into his tree again to
ſleep thereand -
FATHER. Very right, I know it! - This time
he fared better; he did not fall down again, but
ſlept 58) foundly untill the next morning.
At dawn of day he firſt ran to the ſea (hore, to
look for oyſters, and then he returned to his work.
This time he took another way, and had the plea.
ſure of diſcovering a tree with large fruits. It is
true, lie 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.
It was a triangular nut, as big as a child's - head.
The outward (hell was fibrous, as if made of hemp.
The ſecond ſhell on the contrary, was as ſolid and
58) to ſleep
78
as hard as turtle ſhell; and Robinson foon conceived
that he might uſe it as a bowl, this Thell being ſo
ſpacious that a certain little longtailed american ape,
called Saccawinka, can live in it. The kernel was ex-
ceedingly juicy and taſted like a hazel nut, and in the
middle of it, which was hollow, he found a (vveet
juice which was very refreſhing. The juice may be let
out by means of three lioles, Nature formed in them,
without breaking the hard inner ſhell; - a very wiſe
contrivance, without which moſt of this wholesme
juice would be ſpilled. This was a 'very delicious meal
for onr half liarved Robinson! His empty ſtomach was
not ſatiſfied with one nut only; he knocked down a ſe-
cond and a third, which he ate 59) with as good an
appetite, as he had done the firft. A grateful tear
ſtarted in his eyes for joy at this diſcovery.
The tree was pretty high, and without bran.
ches, like the palm - trees; but had only a crown
confiſting of long leaves in the ſhape of a broad-
(word.
THEOPHILUS. And,pray, what ſort of tree might
that be? There are none ſuch here. . .
FATHER. It was a cocoa - tree, which are chief.
ly found in the Eaſt - Indies, and liere in the islands
of the South - ſea; how this tree might come into
Robinson's Iſland, I 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, ftay; I can ſhow
you ſomething, that looks very much like one.
69) to cato
S
(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, ihey all
flew 60) to him with exclamations of ſurprija,
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?
FATHEA. As real a one, as ever grew in the
Indie.
ALL. Indeed!
· NICOLAS. And, pray Papa, where did you get
3
FATHER. u all know, I have not been in
the Eaſt-indies; and that there are none to be ſold
61) here in Hamburgh. If I had not had ſome friend,
to preſent, me 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 like-
wiſe ſolicitous for that of others! If the good gentlea
man, who gave us this, had only minded himſelf,
he would have eaten it, and we. [bould not have
ſeen it. But he has generouſly fpared it from his
own mouth, to pleaſe us, moſt of whom he never
faw.
THEOPHILUS. And who is this good gentleman ?
FATHER. Our friend Captain Muller', 'whom.
you ſaw, two years ago, when we were at Stade..
6e) to fly. 61) to sell.
80
:: Nicolas. Oh! aye! the good - națured gentle-
man, who came to ſee us at York ?. .
FATIIER. The fame! - May this evening be as
happy to him as he made it us; mean while let us
try if we cannot open the ſhell.
(After much ado the outward fibrous ſhell was ope-
ned, and the nut taken out. Hereupon they ope-
ned 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 agreenble as it is ge-
nerally deſcribed; perhaps, becauſe the nut was
too old ur haid been taken from the tree before it
was quite ripe. At laſt the nut was cut open with
a ſau, to get to the white kerkel, which every
one found more agreeable, than the ſweeteſt hazel-
:nut. This was a delicious feaſt for the young
folks.)
DICK. Bleſs me! what a deal of trouble it muſt
have given to poor Robinson, to open that hard
Thell!
: Father. That you may now judge, having
ſeen how much pains it coſt ns, tho' we have Charp
kiives and a law, whichi Robinson had not. But
what difficulty can be great for an hungry man,,
who has the hopes of eating his all. :. .
Tho' Robinson had now fatisfied his hunger,
yet he ran to the ſea-ſhore, 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 reae
Loir to be thankful to God Almighty, for letting him
find 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 ſliore 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 diſ-
covered a plant, the Italk of which was fibrous like
fax or hemp. At any other period he would not
have minded this; but now nothing was in different
to him; lie examined every thing, and conſidered,
whether he might not convert it to ſome uſe or
other.
.
:
In hopes, that this plant might be employed li-
ke fax or hemp, he pulled up a great deal of it,
tied it up in ſmall 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
fun. As ſoon as they were ſufficiently dry, he ma-
de a trial whether they might not be broken 62) 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 nei-
ther had a wheel, nor any body to aſsiſt him. Howy.
ever they were ſtrong enough to tie his large muſ-
62) to break.
82
cle- ſhell to a frick, by which means he got an in-
ftrument, not much unlike a ſpade. :
He now vigorouſly proſecuted his work, and
planted his trees cloſe together: till at laſt he had
encompalled the ſmall ſpace before his future dwel-
ling. 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 afterwards in-
terwove 63) with green twigs, and at laft he con.
ceived the idea, of filling up the ſpace between them
with earth. This now formed ſo folid a wall, that
to break through it, would have required a confi-
derable force.
Every morning and evening lie watered his lit-
tle plantation, from the neighbouring ſpring. His
cocoa- ſhell ſerved him inſtead of a watering pot.
He ſoon had the happineſs 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 ma-
king himſelf a ladder of them, as well as he could,
Dick. And for what purpoſe.
FATHER. You ſhall hear. --- He intended to has
ve nb door at all to his habitation, but even to fill
up withi 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 faſie-
63) to interweave.
83
ned 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 con-
fider, by what means he might ſcoop out tlie hol-
low within the hill, in order to make it large enough
for- his habitation. His bare hands won'dn't do,
that he foreſaw; but what, then cou'd he do? He
was obliged to look about him for ſomething to ſer-
ve his porpoſe.
With this view he went to a ſpot, where he had
ſeen a great number of hard green fiones. Whilft
he was very carefully looking among them, he found
one, the fight of which made his heart palpitate for
we
joy.
This ftone was exactly ſhaped like a hatehet, one
end of it quite ſharp, and on the other there was
a hole, in which he might faften a handle. Robin-
son inſtantly faw, 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
laft happily effected by means of añother ſtone; and
by means of the cords of his own making; he faſten-
ed it to a ſtrong handle as firm, as if it had been
nailed to it.
Then he tried, whether he could not cut down
a young tree with it, which ſucceeded to his un.
ſpeakable joy. You might have offered him a thou-
fand dollars for this batchet and he would not have
.
84
taken them, ſuch were the atvantages he expected
from it.
Searching again among theſe ſtones, he espied
two others, that likewiſe promiſed to be of great ſer-
vice to him. One had the form of a mallet, ſuch as
maſon's and joiners uſe, the other was ſhaped like
a ſhort club, and ſharp at one end like a wedge.
Robinson full of joy, took'em 64) both, and ran 65)
to his habitation, where he directly fell to work.
He ſucceeded moſt excellently. He placed his
ftone - wedge againſt the rock, firuck 66) on it will
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
fpacious enough to ſerve him as an habitation to
ſleep in.
He had, ſometime before this, been pulling up
with his hands a great deal of graſs and ſpread it in
the ſun to dry. This graſs, 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 perched 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 tlianked God for
it, and thought within himſelf: Oh did my coun-
tryman in Europe but know, what it is to paſs ſo
many nights fitting on a hard branch ; ſure! tley
would think themſelves very happy, becauſe they
64) i. e. took them. 65) to ru. 66) to ſtrike.
is
can ſtretch themſelves on a ſoft and ſe-curé bed,
and they would not forget 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 on him-
ſelf. He lay whole hours on his knees, his eyes full
of tears lifted up to heaven, praying to God Al-
mighty to pardon his manifold fins, and to bleſs
and comfort his poor parents. Then with tears of
joy he tnanked God for the miraculous aſſiſtance, he
had granted 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 mand, when he ſhould come to be in
diſtreſs, and therefore made him ſuffer. The ways
of our heavenly Father are always fuch 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 67) himſelf of making
an almanack, that he might not forget the ſucceſfion
of days and when it was ſunday.
JOHN. An almanack !
FATHER. It was indeed not one lo exactly print-
ed 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, pray ? :
67) to bethink.'
86
... FATHER. Having no paper, nor any other ma-
terials for writing, he pitched upon four trees that
had a ſmooth bark, and ſtood 68) together. In the
Jargeſt of them, he made a notch every evening with
a ſtone to ſignify that a day was paſt. Now, then
he had made ſeven notches, a week was ended, and
then he made an other notch in the next tree, to
fignify that a week was paſt. Whenever he had ma-
de 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 monlit-
ly notches, he made one in the fourth tree, to figo
nify, that a whole year was expired.
Dick. But the mouths 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, le cloſed
his hand in this manner: then he pointed with one
finger of his right hand to the frfi knuckle of his
left, then in the hollow between this and the next
knuckle, and ſo on naming the months in their luc-
ceſfive order. Every month, that falls on a knuckle,
has one and thirthy days, and thoſe montis that
fall between, have only thirty, February excepted,
68) to ſtand.
87
1
which has never thirty, but only twenty eight,
and every fourth year twenty nine days; thus poin-
ting 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 manner, and you Jolin, you may
tell the number of the days, - lo, in the ſecond
place: February!
JOHN. Should have thirty, but has only twen-
ty eight, and ſometimes twenty-nine.
FATHER. Màrch.
JOHN. Oire and thirty,
FATHER. April.
John. Thirty.
FATHER: Maya
John.. One and thirty.
FATHER. June.
JOHN. Thirty.
FATHER, July,
John. One and thirty.
FATHER. Auguft. .
(Pointing to the knuckle of the thumb.)
JOHN. Thirty-one.
FATHER., September.
JOHN, Thirty
FATHER. October.
John, Thirty-one.
FATHER. . November.
John. Thirty.
88
FATHER: December.
FATHER. Did you obſerve in the almanack, if
it were right?
Dick. Yes Sir, I did; it was all juft to a hair!
FATHER. Such things, as theſe, ought to be
well obſerved, becauſe we have not always an al.
månack about us, 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 takein good notice of it!
FATHER. In this manner Robinson took care,
not to loſe his account of time, that he might al-
ways know, which day was funday, and celebrate
it like a chriſtian.
Now. he liad conſumed the greateſt part of the
Cocoa nuts of his ſingle tree, and the ſea afforded
him ſo few oyſters, that he could not fubfift on
them alone. He therefore began again to be con-
cerned, 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 diſcover new proviſions.
Ile therefore reſolved with the affiftance of God, to
make a tour the day following. ...
To ſcreen himſelf from the ſcorching heat of
the ſun, lie employed that evening, in making him..
ſelf an umbrella.
89
NICOLAS. And where did' lie get the linen-
and whalebone for it?:
FATHER. He had neither linen, nor whalebo-
ne, 11or knife, nor ſciſſars, neither needle or thread,
and yet - how do you think he fet about making
an umbrella?
Nicolas. Nay', that I don't know!
FATHER. He took ſome willow twigs and twiſt-
ed them into a kind of a roof, in the middle of
which he put a ftick, which he faſtend with pack-
thread of his own making; then he fetch'd ſome co-
Çoa - leaves:, which he faſtened over his twiſted roof
with pins. . . . .
. .
-
• John. With pins! and pray, where did he get
them?
I'ATHER. 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. Oh you have hit it finely! as if pins
were to be found, where none were ever loli! And
how could Robinson have any boards or ſweepings
in his cavern?
FATHER. Well, who can guefs it? – How
would you have done, if you liad had any thing to
faſien as with pins, and you had none ?
JOHN. I ſhould uſe prickles of thorns.
THEOPHILUS. And I thoſe of gooſeberry buſhes.
FATHER. That's ſomething. However I muſt
tell you, that Robinson uſed neither the one nor
go
the other, becauſe he had never ſeen any thorns or
gooſeberry bulles in his island.
John. Well, and what did he uſe then, pray?
: FATHER. . Fiſh - bones. The ſea now and then
threw' dead fiſh on Chore; and after they were ei-
ther rotten or eaten by birds of prey , the bones re.
mained on the ſhore. Of theſe, Robinson had gath-
ered the ſtrongeſt and ſharpelt, to uſe them inſtead
of pins
. By means of theſe bones, he made himſelf ſo clo.
ſe an umbrella, that tlie fun. beams could not pene-
trate it. Whenever he ſucceeded in any of the like
undertakings, he felt an inexpreffible joy, and then
he uſed to ſay to himſelf: „ What à fool was I in
my youth, to ſpend moſt of my time in idleneſs !
Oh, if I were now in Europe and had thoſe infiru-
ments, 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 nccaſion for.
As it was not yet very late, it came into his
head try, to whether he lhould 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. Having a while reflec-
ted on the means, he was at lali ſo happy as to find
them.
Having already a good ſtock of packthread, he
reſolved to make a met of it, and then to form it
into a hunter's - pouch.
This he did in the following manner. He faſte-
92
ned his pack thread to two trees, about a yard diſ-
tance from each other, and every thread as cloſe as
poffible under the other; this was to be the Warp,
as the weavers call it. This done, he began to fafi-
en and to tie his threads from the top to the bot-
tom very cloſe, making a knot on every croſs thread
he met 69), juft as the net - maker's do. The e
threads going up and dowul were conſequently the
Woof. And thus he foon nade himſelf a net, not
unlike a fiſhing - net. He then looſed the ends from
the tree, faliened them together on one ſide and at
the bottom, leaving the upper part open. And thus,
he had a kind of a hunter's - pouch, which he fung
70) about his neck, with a ſmall cord, made of
pack-thread, faſtened to the upper end of it.
He could hardly ſleep that whole night, for
joy at the happy luccels.of his undertaking.
THEOPHILUS. Oh, I ſhould like to make mya
ſelf ſuch a bag too.
NICOLAS. And ſo ſhould I; if we had but packa
thread.
Mother. To be lo delighted with your work,
as Robinson was with his, you muſt make the pack-
thread yourſelves, and alſo prepare the flax and
hemp with your own hands. But as this is not ri-
pe enough yet, I'll give you ſome pack - tlưead.
· Theophilus. Oh, will you, dear Mama!
Mother. Moſt willingly, if you deſire it. Co-
me along, we will ſerch ſome,
THEOPIILUS. Oh, that's excellent!
69) to meet. 70) to, Ning.
92
CHARLOTTE. You do very well, to imitate thie-
le, things. For if you ſhould happen one day or
other to be caſt on ſuch añ uninhabited Iſland, you
vill know, how to manage. Is it not true, Papa?
... FATHÆR. Very right, do fo! - Now we will
let' our Robinson ſleep till to-morrow! - In the
mean time l'îi ſée, if I cannot learn of him the art
of making an umbrella. -
FIFTH E V E N IN G.
The next-evening, when the company were again
aſſembled in their uſual place, Nicolas appear'd with
a hunter's - bag of his own making, by which he
drew 21) the eyes of all preſent upon him. Inſtead
of an umbrella, he had borrowed a fieve from the
cook, which he carried on a flick above his head,
His whole deportment was grave and majefiic.
. MOTHER. Bravo, Nicolas, that's well done. I
had almoft taken you for Robinson himſelf.
• John. I could not get' my pouch ready, other-
wiſe 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, Nicolas,
is good for nothing!
NICOLAS. Nay, I only wanted to have one for
to day, and I could not have a better one in ſo ſhort
a time!
94
FATIER. (taking one of his own making, from
behind the hedge.) What do you ſay to this, Friend
Robinson?
Nicolas. 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 Robionson made, ſhall be our Robinson and
have this umbrella.
THEOPHILUS. Muſt he alſo make himſelf a hut?
FATHER. Why not.
All. Oh, that is excellent! that is delightful!
FATHER. Robinson conld ſcarce wait till day-
break ; he role 72) before the ſun, and prepared
himſelf for his journey. He put his poucli about
his ſhouldets, girded å rope round his waiſt, hung
73) his hatchet in it, inſiead of a ſword, then took
his umbrella on his ſhoulder, and walked off very
cheerfuly:
He firſt went to his cocoa - tree, to fill his bag
with one or two nuts; then to the ſea-ſhore, to get
Come Oyſters, and having provided himſelf with
both and taken a draught of freſh water for his
breakfaſt, he ſet out on his journey.
It was a charming morning, the ſun was juſt
then riling in all his lutire as out of the ocean and
gilding the tops of the mountains, and trees. A thou-
fand Imall 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
72) to riſe, 70) to hang.
95
it was jufi illuing out of the hands of the Creator;
and herbs and flowers diffuſed their fweereft odours.
Robinson's heart dilated with joy and gratitude
to his God. ,,Here again," ſaid he to himſelf,
„God ſhews Himſelf as the moſt bountiful!“.— He
tlien mixed his voice with tlioſe of the birds, and
ſung 74) with a loud voice as follows:
My firengthen'd lon) 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; die
Then who protected me in need ? .
Whoſe power lulld my mind? -
'Twas Thou, o Lord', 'twas Thou alone,'
We move alone in Thee;
Thou ſaveſt all, and Thou haft ſhewn
Thy mercy new to me.
Praiſed be Thou, o Lord of might ,
Thy guardian care be prail'd,
That has protected me all night,
And now from ſleep has raiſed.
Grant me Thy choiceſt bleſſings ſtill
And guide me in Thy way;
74) to Ting
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 heart to godlineſs,
Let me love all mankind;
Let my licart 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 flow.;
Let others wellfare warm my mind, :
Their virtues make it glow.
That while I ſtill 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 ?
97
FATHER. With great pleaſure.
FRIEND R. And I will teach you the tune to
it: and then we may fing it before morning prayers.
NICOLAS, Oh! that's fine; it is an excellent hymn!
Father. As Robinson was fiill greatly afraid of
wild beaſis and ſavages, he avoided thickets and
woods as much as pollible during the courſe of his
journey, and rather choſe thoſe parts of the island,
where he had a free proſpect on all ſides. But theſe
were the moſt barren parts of the iſland. He therefore
had proceeded a great way, without diſcovering any
thing from which he could derive any advantage. ,
At laſt he (pied a plant, which he thought de-
ſerved a cloſer examination. Theſe plants ftood to
gether in ſmall tufts. Some had reddiſh, others
whitiſh bloſſoms, and others again bore 75) ſmall
green apples, about the ſize of a cherry..
He immediately pulled one off, and taſted it;
but findinig it noť at all eatable le with indignation
pulled a whole buſh out of the the ground, and was
going to ſing it away, when, to his great aſtoniſh-
ment, he diſcovered a great number of large and
ſmall round knobs at the root of it. He inſtantly
ſuppoſed theſe to be the proper fruit of the plant,
and began to examine them a little nearer.
He put one between his teeth 76) and when he
found it hard and talieleſs, was going to fling ic
away, but happily he recollected, that they might
be good for ſomething, though he could nor directe
75).to bear. 76) the tooth.
ly diſcover for what. So he put ſome of them into
his pouch, and proceeded on his journey. : :
JOAN. I know, what they were.si
· FATHER. Well! and what then?".
John. Why potatoes ! they grow juft ſo as you
deſcribed them.
Dick. And originally they come from America !
THEOPHILUS. Yes Sir Francis Drake brought
97) them from thencel -- 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 ea-
ten 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, fince our Robinson .lived. : :..
THEOPHILƯ8. Nay then . . ;.
FATHER. You ſee, dear Theophilus, how wrong
it is to cenſure other people fo inconfiderately?. We
muſt firſt place ourſelves in their condition and re-
flect, whether we ſhould have acted better than they?
Had you never ſeen any potatoes, and never heard,
how they are dreſſed, you would not know, what
to do with them, any more than Robinson. Let
77) to bring.
this caution you for the future, never to think your.
ſelf viſer than other people.
THEOPHILUS.. Kiſs me, dear Papa, I ſhall ne.
ver do ſo any more.
FATHER. · Robinson continued his journey, but
ſlowly and with precaution. The leaſt rufiling 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 al-
ways found, he had been terrified without reaſon..
At length he came to a brook, where he deter-
mined to take his dinner. Here he ſat down under
a thick ſhady' tree, and had already begun to eat ve-
ry heartly — when all of a ſudden, he was terrib-
ly frighten'd by a diftant noiſe. He looked fearful-
ly round him, and diſcovered a whole drove' ---
NICOLAS. Of ſavages, to be ſure!
THEOPHILUS. Or Lions and tigers.
FATHER. Neither of them! but a whole drove
of wild animals, bearing ſome reſemblance to our
deer, except that their necks were much longer,
which made them look ſomewhat like camels, and
their heads ſomething like our horſes; as for the
relt, 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 inap) which be.
longs to Spain, and is called Peru; for which rea-
100
ſon they are alſo called peruvian ſheep, tho', the
wool excepted, they have nothing common with the
Sheep. The Americans here, before they were dil-
covered by the Europeans, had tamed this animal,
and uſed it like an als, to carry burthens. Of their
wool' they uſed to make ſtuffs for cloạthes.
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.
THEOPAILUS. Is not that the country, from
which the ſpaniards get ſo much gold and filver,
and ſend it home in their galleons, as you have told
us? .
FATHER. The very fame! - When Robinson
ſaw theſe animals, which we alſo ſhall call Lamas,
he felt a great appetite for a piece of roaſt meat,
which he had not tafted a good while, and he great-
ly wiſhed, to kill one of them. To this end lie
placed himſelf behind a tree with his ſtone- hatchet,
in hopes, that one or other of tliem flould 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, palled the
tree, behind which Robinson had hid 78) himſelf,
without any fear, and one of them, a young one,
coming within his reach, lie gave it ſuch a violent
28) to hide.
101*
ftroke on the neck with his harchet, that it immed-
iately fell dead on the ground.
CHARLOTTE. Oh hie! How could be do fo? Tlie
poor little ſheep!
Mother. And why ſhould he 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 ani:
mal for his ſuſtenance, and don't you know, that
God has allowed us to make uſe of animals, to
whatever pourpoſe we need them?
FATHER. To kill or torment a poor innocent
animal without neceſſity, 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 fo.
John. Oh, yes! And if we did not make uſe'
of animals, we ſhould not take the trouble, to pro-
vide for them, and 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 mo-
re, if we did not kill then, but let them die of fick-
neſs and old age; becauſe they are not able to help
cach other, as men can.
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,
*102
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 loo-
ner felt 79), but it is over.
. Robinson had ſcarce knocked down the Lama,
when lie began to conſider, how he ſhould be able
to dreſs its fleſh ?
CELARLOTTE. Why, could he not boil or roaſt
it?
FATHER. That he would moſt willingly liave
done; but unluckily for him, he wanted all conven
niencies for this purpoſe. He had neither pot nor
fpit, and what was ſtill worſe -" he even had no
fire.
- CHARLOTTE, No fire! wliy, could he not make
ſome?
FATHER. To be ſure, he might, if he had liad
Fteel and tinder, a dint and matches ! But, alas !
he had nothing 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.
FATHÉR. ' 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
79) to feel.
103
him
leſs agreeable to him; for he met 80) with fix or
eiglit lemon - trees, under which he found ſome ri-
pe lemons: theſe he carefully gathered, marked tho
place, and then, with great ſatiſfaction, haftened
back to his dwelling.
Being arrived there, his firſt buſineſs was, to
ſkin the young lama. This he did, by means of a
ſharp lione, which 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 81), it would
one time or other, be very uſeful to him.
John. And pray, what could he do with it?
TATHER. He might uſe it ſeveral ways! In the
firſt place, his ſhoes and ftockings began to wear
out; and he thought in caſe of need, he might ma-
ke 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 provided with furs, and
by theſe means ſecured from periſhing with cold.
It is true, his' fear was needleſs 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 inftructed in his youth.
JOHN. But, Papa I tkink, we once read, that
80) to meet. 81) to foreſee.
104
the Pico of Teneriffa, and the Cordilleras in Peru,
are always covered with ſnow? There conſequently
it muſt be always winter, and yet they are all litua-
ted between the tropics. ..
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 fuow. Do you remember, what · I told you
of ſome countries in the Ealt Indies, when we la-
tely took a voyage thither on the map ?
John. Oh yes! That in ſome parts there, fum-
mer and winter, are only a few miles aſunder! As
on the iſle of Ceylon, in the Indian Ocean, and
where - pray, where is it?
: FATHER. On the foremoli peninſula. When it
is winter on this ſide of the Gauts on the coali of
Malabar, it is ſummer on the other ſide of theſe moun.
tains, on the coaſt of Coromandel; and ſo the re-
Terve. The ſame is ſaid to be obſerved in the iſland
of Zeram, one of the Moluccas, wherс one needs
only go three miles, to come from the cold of win-
ter into the heat of ſummer, and again from a lot
into a cold country
. But we are again at a great diſtance from our
Robinson. Only ſee how our mind can in a trice
tranſport itſelf into countries and places many thou-
ſand, miles diſtant from one another! From America
we flew 82) to Aſia and now – mind me! huſh,
and lo! we are back again in America, in our friend
Robinson's iſland. Is not that wonderful? -
82) to fly.
105
Having ſkinned his Lamas and taken out the en-
trails, he cut off a hiud quarter to roaſi it, and then
his next care was to make a fpit. For this purpoſe
he took a very young ſlendes tree, ſtript 83) it of
the bark, and ſharpened it at one end. Then le
looked for a couple of forky branchés, to lay his
Spit on. Theſe lie alſo ſharpened, and knocked them
into the ground, oppoſite to each otlier', ſpitted his
meat, placed the ſpit on the forks, and was not a
little rejoiced, to ſee how well he could turn it.
Now the molt neceſſary of all was ftill wanting,
I meau firei In order to produce it by friction, he
cut two pieces of wood from a withered tree, and
fell (84) a working directly. He rubbed till the
ſweat rolled do .vn in great drops from his face, but
all to nọ purpoſe, for juft when the wood was ſo
hot that it ſmoaked, he found himſelf ſo tired, that
he was obliged, to ſtop a little, in order to recrnit
himſelf: in which time the wood always grew cold
again, and all his labour proved fruitleſs.
He now again felt 85) in the moft ſenſible man-
ner, the helpleſs condition of a ſolitary life, and
thie many advantages, afforded to us by the ſociety
of men. · Had he had but one, perſon to continue
rubbing, when he was fatigued, he would certain-
ly have made ihe wood burn. But being quite alo-
ne, it was impoffible 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 ge-
33) to ſtrip. 84) to fall. 85) to feel.
106
nerally ſtronger , than we Europeans, we are too
delicately brought 86) up; and then they know muclu
better, how to ſet about : ſuch things. They take
two pieces of different wood, one hard and the other
ſoft. The former they rub with great quickneſs a-
gainſt the latter, which takes fire. Or elſe they ma-
ke a hole in one, and ſticking the other into it,
turn it ſo very quickly in their hands, till it takes
fire at laft.
Robinson ignorant of this method, could not
ſucceed.
. Quite dejected at laſt", he flung 87) the two pie-
ces 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 figh he often calt 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
jumped up from his couch and walked about, to le.
cover himſelf a little.
As his blood was now in great agitation, he
grew very dry and went to the ſpring to fetch a
draught of freſh water in his cocoa - Chell. This
water he mixed with ſome lemon-juice, which ma-
de 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 lie would gladly have caten a ſlice.
86) to bring. 87) to fing,
107
At laſt lie recollected to have once heard, that the
Tartars human creatures as well as himſelf, put the
meal tliey intend to eat, under their ſaddles, and
then ride on it till it is tender. This, argued lie,
might poſſibly be done in another manner, and he
reſolved to ſet about inftantly. To this end lie went
88) and fetched two pretty (mootlı broad flat ftones,
of the ſame kind his hatchet was of; between theſe
he laid fome meat, without bones, and began to
ſtrike vigourouſly on the upper fione with his mal-
let. He had ſcarce done fo, for ten minutes, when
the ſtone began to grow hot. He now redoubled
liis blows, and in leſs than half an hour the meat
was become. fo 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 properly roafied. 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, be-
cauſe they do not ſuit your dainty palates : were you
but for eight days in my place, you would be very
well pleaſed afterwards with whtaever food God Al-
mighty ſhould ſend you! You would take care, ne-
ver to be again ungrateful to the all nouriſhing bouna
ty of providence!“
In order to highten the favour of this diſh, he
fqueezed a little lemon juice upon it, and then
made luch a meal, as he had not done a long while.
88) to go.
108
Neither did he forget, tò addreſs liis very fervent
thanks to the giver of all good things.
When his dinner was ended, be began to con-
fider what was now the moſt indiſpenſable occupa-
tion for him to do? The fear of the winter, which
this day had grown ſo ftrong within him, made
him reſolve, to ſpend ſome days in killing a great
'many lamas, and make a ſtore of their ſkins. As
they ſeemed to be ſo very tame, he hoped, to ob-
tain his wiſh without much trouble.
Full of theſe hopes he went to reſt, and a ſoft
refreſhing ſleep richly rewarded him for all the fa-
tigues of that day.
,20g
SIXTH'E V ENING
(The father continues.)
Oar Robinson ſlept 89) that time, till the day
was far advanced. When he awoke 90), lie was
ſurprized to find it it was already ſo late, and hafti-
ly jumped up in order to ſet out in ſearch of lamas.
But heaven had ordained it otherwiſe. .
For juft when he had put his head out of his
hole, he was forced to draw it quickly back again.
CHARLOTTE. And why fo! : .ir
FATHER. The rain poured down with ſuch
violence, that it was not poſſible for him to fiir out;
he therefore reſolved to ſtay, till the ſhower was
over.
But the rain did not abate, on the contrary, it
ftill encreaſed with violence. At times there came
ſuch flaſhes of lightning, that his dark cavern ſee-
med to be all in fire; and then ſuch violent claps
of thunder followed, as he had never heard before.
89) to ſleep, go) to awakei
110
The eartli trembled with the moſt terrible rumbling,
and the mountain ſent 91) forth ſuch manyfold echo-
es, that the frightful noiſe ſeemed to have no end.
As Robinson had received a bad education, he
was prepoſſeſſed with a fooliſh fear of lightning.
THEOPHILUS. Of thunder and lightning!
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, be-
cauſe ſometimes houſes are ſet on fire, and now and
then a perſon ís, alſo killed by it.
John. Yes but that happens ſo very feldoni. I
have now lived a good while, and yet I don't re-
member, that ever a man was killed by lightning.
THEOPHILUS.. And if tliere were', why, one
dies lo quickly, and then we go to God Almiglity
and what does it fignify then?.
Dick. Oh what a fine light 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 yon
take us out again, dear Papa, when it lightens , 'that
we may ſee it?
TATHER. Oh yes, I will! – Robinson, you
know, had been poorly inſtructed in his youth, and
therefore he was ignorant how beneficial thunder is;
91) to ſend.
111
how it purifies the air, how it makes every thing
grow well in the fields and gardens; how men and
animals, trees and plants, are lo agreeably refreſhed
by it! -
He ſat 92) now in a corner of his cavern, frighe
tened to death with his hands folded, in the mean
while the rain poured down in great abundance,
flaſhes of lightning ſhot 93) thro' the air, and claps
of thunder ſucceeded each other with redoubled vio-
lence. It was almoſt noon, - and yet the violence of
the tempelt 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 more tormented with frightful ideas : „ The ti-
me is come," he thought, „ that God will puniſlı
me for all my paft tranſgreſſions. He has withdrawn
his paternal hand from me; I muſt now periſh, and
ſhall never ſee my poor parents again.“
FRIEND R. Now, I mufi own, I am not at
all pleaſed with our friend Robinſon!
NICOLAS. And why not, pray?
FRIEND R. Why? has not God- Almighty do.
ne already ſo much for him, that by his own expe-
rience he might very well know, that God does not
forſake any body that conſides in him, and endea-
vours to mend? Had he not already ſaved him from
the moſt imminent dangers ? Had he not already hele
ped hin ſo far, that he had no need to fear any lon-
ger to die with hunger; - And 'et he was dejece
ted! fie! that is impardonable!
92) to fit. 93) to shoot.
112
. MOTHER. I am of your opinion dear R,, but
let us have compaſſion on the poor fellow! It was
but lately he had begin 94)' to reflect, and conſe-
quently it was impoſtible for him, to be ſo perfect
as one, who from his earlielt youth has been en-
deavonring to aniend.
FATHER. You are right, my dear! Give me
your hand! and take this kiſs for your compaſſion
on my poor Robinson, who, ſome time ſince is be-
come very dear to me, becauſe I perceive * him to
be in a good way.
Whilft he was thus ſitting in fear and apprehen-
fion, the tempelt ſeemed at laſt to abate. In pro-
portion as the violence of the thunder and rain fee-
med to leſſen, hope by degrees revived in his ſoul.
Now lie thonglit he might at laſt venture out, and
was juſt going to láy hold of his pouch and his
harchet, when all of a ſudden - What do you think?
he fell ſenſeleſs on the ground.
.' Jolin. 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 liruck 95) into a
tree, which liood on the top of his cave, and rent
96) it to pieces, with ſo dreadful a noiſe, that poor
Robinson loft 97) figlie and hearing, and thought
he was himſelf ſtruck dead:
He remained a long while on the ground with-
out knowing any thing of himſelf. At laſt, perceive-
ing that he was ſtill alive, he roſe up, and the firſt
94) to begin, 95) to ſtrike. 96) to rend. 97') loſe.
thing le diſcovered at the entrance of his cave., was
a piece of the tree, that bad been rent and flung 98)
down by the lightning. This was a new miſfortune
to him! What could he now faſien his ladder to,
if the whole tree, as he thought, was firuck down?
The rain and thunder being now entirely over,
he at laſt ventured out, and what do you think he
-law ?
Something which inftantly filled his heart with
thanks and love to his bountiful Creator, and with
the greateſt ſenſe of ſhame at his former desponden.
cy! He ſaw the trunk of the tree, into which the
lightning had firuck, all in a blaze. He now found
himſelf in poſſeſſion of what he wanted 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 providen-
ce 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.
• MOTHER. How ſo? .
-FATHER. I was cleaving wood; and juſt when
I was about to ſtrike with my hatchet, I perceived
a wood - lonſe fitting in a ſplit, into which I was
going to ſtrike. Why * kill the poor thing without
need, thought I, and blew 99) it three paces from
98) to fling. 99) to plow.
114
me, as if it had been whirl'd away by a fiorm.
Now I reflected, how the little ſhort fighted fool
might reaſon on this accident. „ What an unfriend.
ly tyrant that huge two legged creature muſt be!“
it might think, „to make ſuch a violent hurricane,
which Aings me head over heels out of my honſe!
and what does it avail him? I really believe, he did
it only, to ſee me, poor worm, whirld thro' the
air! Thus it might have reaſon'd, if animals could
reaſon properly; it litile 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 kuow as little, as the wood-
louſe did of my intention.
With inexpreſfible ſentiments of joy and grati-
tude, Robinson 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 kindeft intentions; „Oh!
cried he with a loud voice and tears of joy in his
eyes : what is man! that ſhort fighted worni, 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 ſu-
ftenance in this deſolated iſland. - That day he did
not go a hunting, as his intention firſt was, becau-
ſe he would immediately take advantage of the fire,
115
and roaſt his meat, which had been ſpitted fince the
day before.
As the lower part of the burning trunk, to
which his laddder was faſtened, was yet unhurt,
he might ſafely mount. He did ſo, took a fire- brand,
got down with it 10. the place, which he had in-
cloſed before his habitation and made an excellent
fire, to roaſt his mieat. After which he got up again
to the burning tree, and put out the fire.
All this being done, lie performed the buſineſs
of a ſcullion, in keeping up the fire and turning his
{pit with great diligence. His fire was an object of
uncommon joy to him, and greatly affected him. He
conſidered it as a very valuable gift of God, which
he had ſent him down from the clouds, and whilſt
he was reflecting on the great advantages', it might
afford him, he often lifted' up his eyes with grati-
tude to leaven. And afterwards, whenever he ſaw
any fire, or only thought of it, his ſecond thought
always was: 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! ;
John. 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 ſakė,
the ſame as water, earth and air !
FATHER. Robinson had, at his laſt night's ſup-
per milled the falt in the taſte of his meat, and hó-
116
ped for the future, to find ſome in his iſland. For
this time he ran to the ſea - [hore and fetch'd a co-
coa - ſhell full of ſea - water. With this he baſted
his meat ſeveral times, and by that means ſeaſoned
it in fome meaſure.
At laſt it ſeemed ſufficiently done, and he, who
like Robinson has not "tafied a mouthful of well-
dreſſed meat in four weeks , and given up all hopes
of ever taſting any again, may deſcribe the joy be
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 happen to fall in the night-time, when he
was aſleep, what then?
- CHARLOTTE. I'll tell you what, Papa! I ſhould
have made a fire in my cavern, where the rain could
not come,
FATHER. Very well imagined ! But 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!
John. There muſt always be ſomething or other
to puzzle him. One is often apt to think him com-
pletely happy: but, your humble ſervant! ſome new
obftacle always ſtarts in view!
FATHER. By this we ſee, how infinitely difi-
'1297
cult 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 creatures, if every
one of us were forced, to live by himſelf, and if
no body had the comfort of his fellow- creatures
aſiſtance! A tlioufand hands are not ſufficient to pre-
pare, 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?
Join. On a Matraſs."
FATHER. Right! - Theſe matralles are filled
witli hörſe - hair. Theſe have been cut by two hu-
man hands, weighed and ſold 1) by two others;
they have been packed up and ſent away by two
more; two received and unpacked them; two again
have fold them to the ſaddler or upholſterer. Theſe
hair, which were entangled, were pickt 2) out by
the hands of the upholſterer, who put them into a
natrals. The covering of the matraſs is made of
ſtriped linen, and whence does that come?
· 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 palte, and -- ::
FATHER. Very well! How many hands were
1) to ſell. 2) to pick.
118
fuppoleman's handicow many what is 139 – But
l'equired, to make a weaver's loom? We'll only
ſuppoſe a few -- twenty! The palie is made of flour.
How many hands are there not required, before we
can get four! How many lundred hands muſt nat
be employed, to make all what is neceſſary for a
mill, in which the corn is ground 13) – But wea-
vers chiefly want yarn, and wliere do they get that?
JOHN. That is ſpun 4) by women.
FATIIER. Out of what?
John. Out of flax.
FATHER. And do you know, thro' how many
hands the flax muſt paſs, before it can be ſpun?
Jonn. Oh yes, tliat we have lately reckoned
over! In the firſt place the huſbandman muft liſt
the linſeed, to clean it froin the ſeeds of weeds ;
then the land muft dunged and ploughed a couple
of times, before the ſeed is ſowed and harrowed in.
When the young lax grows up, a great number of
women and girls come to weed it. Being at its
full growth, it is pulled out by the roots, and
drawn 5) through the ripple - comb, to take the
ſeeds off.
: NICOLAS. Yes! and then it is tied up in ſmall
bundles, and laid in water !
Dick. And when it is ſoaked enough, it is ta-
ken out again. -
THEOPHILUS. Then they ſpread it in the ſun,
to dry it -
FREDERIC. And then it is broke 6) on the
þrake. -
6) to grind, 4) to fpin, 6) to draw. 6) to break.
119
CHARLOTTE. I beg your pardon Sir; firſt it is
dried in the oven! Is not it , Papa ?
FREDERIC. Yes! And then it is broke, and
then -
JOHN. Then it is hackled on the hackle, which
is full of Charp wires, to take out the tow. .
DICK. And then they do ſomething elſe with
it – let me fee - I know it. - Oh, I'll tell you
directly! – Then they ſcutch it, on the ſcutching
ſtocks.
FATHER. Now take this all together and con-
fider, 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 fax-cleaner and the ſpinner fand in need of:
and you will allow, that I do not ſay too many,
when I aſſure you, tha, more than a thouſand hands
have been employed, in making only the Matrals,
on which you ſleep ſoo ſoftly.
THEOPHILUS. Aftoniſhing! 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, excep-
ting 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?
Now he was at a loſs, how to prevent his dear
fire from 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 lafiy
120
ftrides up and down in his incloſure, and for a
long time lie did not know, what to reſolve upon.
At laſt caſiing his eyes on the fieep wall of the hill,
he directly knew, what he had to do.
Dick. Hový ſo ?
FATHER. About a yard above the ground, the-
re was a very large and thick fione, 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, yet the ground
under this large ſtone was not in the leaſi wet, but
as dry, as if it had been covered with a roof, Ro.
binson directly conceived, that this ſpot might ſer-
ve as good and ſecure fireplace. But his obſerva-
tions did not fiop here. - He perceived that it would
be very eaſy for him, to make a proper kitchen,
fire-hearth and chimney in this place, and he re-
ſolved, to ſet about it directly.
• With his ſpade he dug 7) a hole about a yard
deep juſt under this large fione. 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 8) and ſaw 9), with the greateſt exactneſs,
and always aſked himſelf: what may that be good
for? * he had not left 10) a particular fort of clay
7) to dig. 8) to meet 9) to ſee. 10) to leave.
121
unnoticed, which he had ſeen in one part of his ir-
land; on the contrary he directly conceived the idea,
that it might Terve him to make bricks to build a
wall.
This he now recollected again, and having al.
moſt dug the hole for his kitchin, he took his ſpade
and fione-knife, and went to the place, where this
clay was to be found 11), in order to ſet about the
work directly.
As it lead rained very much, the clay was ſo
ſofts that he could get it out without any great
trouble; he then formed it into ſquare-bricks and
ſmoothed them with his knife. Having in a ſhort
time got a conſiderable number of them ready, he
placed them in rows, wliere 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 dili.
gent labour had procured him a very good appetite.
Now that he might on ſuch a joyful day make a
prince's - feaft, he indulged himſelf ſo far, as to take
one of the few remaining cocoa - nuts along with him.
. This meal was moſt excellent. - Ah! ſaid Ro-
binson, fighing 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
nioft miſerable beggar, for iny companion, whom I
might tell, that I loved him, and who could tell
me again, that he loved me! Were I but ſo happy,
to have ſome taine animal - a dog or a cat - to
11) to find.
192
be kind to, and gain its affection! But fo quite aļo-
ne ~ to be ſo debarred from all living creatures! ~
Here a tear of grief trickled down his cheeks.
Ile now remembered the time, which he uſed
to ſpend in diſputes and quarrels with his brothers
and other companions, and rellected on it with the
bittéreſi remorſe. Ah! ſaid he to himſelf, low little
did I then kuow the great value of a friend, and
how indiſpenſably neceſſary the affection of other
men is to our happineſs! Oh that I could retrieve
niy younger days! Ilow friendly, low kind, how
indulgent would. I be to my brothers and other
children! How willingly would I ſuffer trivial of-
fences, and force all mankind, by my goodneſs and
friendly conduct, to love me! Good God! Why did
I not know the high value of that fappineſs, which
friendſhip affords, until it was loft 12) for me –
loli for ever!
Then caſting accidentally his eyes towards his
cavern, le perceived a ſpider, that had extended her
web in a corner. The thought of ſleeping with fo-
me living creature under one roof, ſeem'd ſo com-
fortable, that it was quite indifferent to him now,
wliat kind of animal it was. He reſolved to catch
flies every day, for his ſpider, to make this creature
ſenſible, it was in a ſafe and friendly place, and if
polfible to tame it.
As it was fill 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 ti-
12) to loſe.
123
me with ſomething uſeful, he took his ſpade, and
went on to clear his kitchen from the mould. Whilft
lie was digging, he hit upon ſomething ſo very hard
in the ground, that it almoſt broke his ſpade.
* He thought 13) it was a ſtone. But how great
was his aſtoniſhment, when, on taking out the
lump, le diſcovered, that it was — ſolid gold..
THEOPHILUS. Good gracious! how lucky that
Robinson is!
Fathek. 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 lový many
things could he not buy now? He could get a pa-
Jace built 14) keep his own coach, ſervants ; run-
ning foot-men, apes, monkeis: nay, he could, e-
veni
THEOPHILUS. Aye! But pray, where could hc
get all theſe things in his iſland, there being nobo-'
dy, who had any thing to ſell ?
FATHER. Why! Ayė, I did not think of that!
- Buť our Robinson thought of it directly. -- In-
ſtead of rejoicing at the treaſure he had 'found, he
kicked it away with contempt, 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 willing,
ly would I now give this gold for a handful of
jron - nails, or any other uſeful tool!««. and ſo he
13) to think, 14) to build. .
124
left 15) the precious treaſure with contempt, and
whenever, he afterwards past 16) by, he ſcarce deign.
ed to caſt a look upon it. : :
CHARLOTTE, I'll tell you what, Papa ; Robiu.
son did juſt as the cock!
FATHER. What cock? ...
: CHARLOTTE. Why! liave you forgot the fable
you once told us? There was once a cock - .
FATHER, VVell ? .
CHARLOTTE. That was ſcratching on a dung-
hill, and found a -- what do you call it?
FATHER. A diamond.
CHARLOTTE." Oh, ayel it was a diamond, and
he ſaid: Of what uſe art thou to me, thou glitte-
ring' 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 a-
bout it.
. FATHER. Very right; Robinson did juſt ſo with
his lump of gold.
Now, night was coming on, the ſun had long
ſince funk 17) into the ſea -.
THEOPHILUS. Into the ſea ?
FATHER. So it appears to thoſe, who live in
an iſland, or on the ſca-ſhore towards the welt.
Tliere it ſeems to them, as if the ſun was ſinking
down into the ſea, when he * ſets, and for that rea-
ſon it is ſome-times cultomary to ſay ſo, as if he
really did. . . .
Now the friendly mdon rofe on the oppolite fi.
15) to leave. 16) to paſs. 17) to ſink.
125
de of the ſky, and darted her * friendly beams into
Robinson's cave, lo agreeably, that at firſt he could
not ſleep, for this delightful ſpectacle.
CHARLOTTE. Oh, look, dear Papa, yonder is
our moon coming too! . .
John. Oh, aye, how glorious The 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
thanes 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 18) up by ſome pieces of wood; what do
you intend to do in the mean time.
NICOLAS. Oh ſhall we not go to our arbour,
before we go to bed?
Í HEOPHILUS. Oh yes, to the arbour!
FATHER. Well, come along, my children, we
will fing a hymn of praiſe to our Creator, by the
light of his glorious moon, for the joys of the palt
day.
i
And thus they all went joyfully to the arbour,
18) to keep
126
SE V E N T H
E V E N IN G.
The following evening John, Nicolas and Theo.
philus pulled the father out of the door of the hou-
ſe by his arnis and the ſkirts of his coat; and as
they cried for help, the reſi 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 - plat under the apple - tree !
FATILER. What do you want with me there?
..: NICOLAS. Oh, our Robinson! pray! pray! !
THEOPHILUS. Oh aye. Robinson! and you Chall
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 delighe us? Who can ſay ſo? pray!.
FATHER. No body; but if I am not miſtaken,
I ſaw fome of you yawning laſt night, and that is
127
generallsy' a fign, that people don't find themſelves.
well entertained.
THEOPHILUS. Oh no, certainly not! that was
only becauſe we had been digging ſo much in our
garden. No wonder one grows a little ſleepy, after
having dug 19) the whole afternoon.
NICOLAS. To day we have only been weeding
and watering tlie lettuce plants, and we are not iil
the leaſt tired.
CHARLOTTE. No, not in the leaſt fatigued. Look
how I can jump.
FATHER. If you'll have it fo, I will continue;
but you muſt tell me, when you begin to grow ti-
red of my hiſtory. :
Jonn. Oh yes! - well? .
FATHER. As the heat in Robinson's iſland was
ſo very intolerable in the day time, he was forced
to do the work, he intended, in the morning and
evening. He therefore got up before ſun- riſe, put
freſh wood to his fire and breakfafted 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 neat was already tainted, on
account of the great heat. He was therefore com-
pelled to paſs that day without neat. .
When he was ready to let out for the place,
where he had made his bricks, and putting his hun-
ter's bag over his liead, he found thoſe patatoes in
it, which he had accidentally picked up two days
before on his return home. The thought firuck him
19) to dig.
128
ST
to put them in ſome hot aſhes near the fire, and ſec
how they would be, when roaſted? After which he
ſet out. .
He-So vigorouſly proſecuted his work that, be-
fore noon, he had made as many clay bricks as he
thought' ſufficient to make the wall round his kit-
chen; then he went to the ſea - Shore, to look for
ſome oyliers, But infiead of oyſters, of which he
found but very few, lie 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 in.
deed never tafied himſelf; but lie had often heard,
that the fleſh of it was very palatable and nouriſhing
John. Well, and what was it then?
· FATHER, A turtle, and ſo very large, that the
like of it is ſeldom ſeen in this country. It might
weigh near hundred pounds,
.. THEOPHILUS. Oh, that muſt have been a pro-
digious large- turtle! Are there really any lo large ?
: JOHN. Oh,' there are ſome much larger yet,
Don't you remember, what Papa once read to us
in our luifiory of voyages ? Thoſe, that were caught
20) by the travellers in the ſouth - ſea ? Why, thoſe
were of three-hundred weight.
THEPHILUS. Three-hundred weight! Why that
is altoniſhing.
FATHER. Robinson took his turtle on his ſhoul-
der, and made a ſhift, to get home with it as well
as he could. Here he ſtruck 21) with his hatchet
20) to catch, %:) to ftrike,
129
on the lower ſhell, till it broke 22). Then he took
the turtle, and killed it, and cut off a large piece to
roaſt. This he fpitted, and being very hungry by
working ſo much, he waited with impatience, till
it was done.
Whilft 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 wan-
ted a tub and ſalt,
CHARLOTTE. Pray, what do you call, to pick-
le?
FATHER. It is, to lay meat, which one wiſhes
to preſerve, 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 Bö-
kel, to falt herrings.
FATHER. Robinson then law with great con-
cern, that his whole turtle, which might have fer-
ved him a fortniglit and longer, would be quite ſpoi-
led by to-morrow: and yet he knew no means how
- to falt it. But a new thought occurred to him The
upper ſhell of the turtle was hollow like a tray.
This he thought he might uſe infiead of a tub. But,
where could he now get ſalt? -
„ What a blockhead am I ? " ſaid he to himſelf,
ſlapping his forehead „Can not I pour ſea - water
upon it, which will be near as good, as if I falted
the meat? Oh excellent! excellent!“ cried he for joy,
22) to break,
(9)
130
and turned his fpit with more cheerfulneſs than be-
fore.
Now his meat was done. „ Alas!“ cried Ro-
binson, after having taſted a nice piece of it with
great delight, „had I but a bit of bread with it!
How liupid 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
myſelf! “
Duiring theſe exclamations he recollected the po-
tatoes, which he had tliat morning put into the alli-
es. „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 23) ſuch an agreeable ſmell from it, that he
did not heſitate a moment, 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 pota-
toe!
FATHER. That is expreſſing the matter at once!
fo- the taſte of this roaſted potatoe, was ſo plea-
ſant, as the taſte of a potatoe, and Robinson imme-
diately perceived to his great ſatiſfaction, that this
root might ſerve him inſtead of bread.
23) to ariſe.
131
He therefore made a moſt excellent' meal. After
which he laid himſelf down for a while on his
couch, on account of the ſcorching beat of the ſün;
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'cou-
ple of lamas. – But what ſhall I do with ſo much
meat ? What, if I contrived my kitchen ſo, as to be
able to ſmoke meat in it? - excellent!“ cried he,
jumping up from his couch and ſtepping to the pla-
ce, where he intended to make his kitchen, to con-
lider low to execute this deGgn?
He ſoon found, that it would do very well. He
only needed to make a couple of holes, in the two
fide- 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 ſun had hardened
his bricks,
But, what ſhould he do this afternoon? — While
he was reflecting on this, a new thouglit occur-
red to him, which in excellence was greatly ſupe-
rior to all thoſe, he had hitlerto' conceived. He
was quite afioniſhed at his fiupidity, not to have
thought of it before. "
132
JOHN, And, what was it?
FATHER. Nothing leſs, than to, tame ſome ani.
mals, for his company and entertainment !
THEOPHILUS. Ah , 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.
· FATHER. But in what manner would you catch
them, dear Theophilus ? I ſuppoſe, they were not
fo-tame , as to be taken with your hands.
THEOPHILUS. But, how would Robinson ſet
about it then?..
:: FATHER. That was the queſtion 110w, 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 impoffible in itſelf, and he continues
reflecting on it, very few will be found too difficult
for his underfiandinga nd aſſiduity. So great and mani-
fold 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 undertak-
ing, if you have but reſolution enough, not to
defilt, till you have carried your point. Perſevering
induſtry, continued reflections, and indefatigable cou.
rage have often brought things to bear, which be-
fore were deemed impoſsible. You muſt therefore
133
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 grea-
ter 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! :i' ..
- FATHER, He reſolved to contrive a rope in ſuch
a manner, as to make a ſnare of it; then to hide him-
ſelf behind a tree, and to fling it about the neck of
the firſt lama, that happened to come within his
reach.
With this view he twiſted a pretty ftrong rope,
and in a few hours his gin was ready. He made
ſome trials with it to ſee, whether it would draw to-
gether, and it ſucceeded to his wiſhes. . . .
As the place, where the lamas uſed to frequent,
was at ſome diſtance, and as he did not know, whe-
ther they 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
Toaſt, and the reſt irt 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 fupper and for the
day following, , and poured on the reſt ſome ſea-wa-
134
ter, which he had brought with him for that pur-
poſe. .
Upon this he dug a hole in the ground, to fer-
ve as a cellar. Flere he placed his turtle- fhell, with
the meat he had ſalted, together with the piece, he
had cut off, and cover'd the whole with boughs..
The relt of the after- noon lie devoted to cheer
his mind by a pleaſant walk along the ſea-ſhore;
whence the refreſhing cali - wind blew, and agree-
ably cooled the ſultry air. He indulged himſelf with
the light of the immenſe ocean, which then was
but little ruffled and moved in ſmall waves. 'Ile
caft a look of affection to that fide, where his belov-
ed.country was ſituated., aud a tear ſtarted from his
eyes at the thought of his dear parents.
,, What may they be doing now, my poor griev.
ed parents ? « cried he wringing his lands and
with lears in his eyes. „ If they have ſurvived the
biiter: ſorrow, I cauſed them, alas! how mournful-
ly will they paſs each day! They will be fighing
and wailing, becauſe they have no child left; becau-
ſe their laſt and moſt beloved ſon proved a traitor,
and forlook 24) them for ever! Oh my deareſt, beſt
of fatliers, oh my dearly beloved mother, oh, par-
don your poor 'wretched ſon, who could cauſe you
ſuch grieſ!. And thou, my heavenly – and now
my only father ! my only companion, my only hel-
per and protector - (After an humble proſtration he
continued). Oh, my, Creator! pour down thy moft
precious bleſſings, and all the joys, thou hadft deſtin-
24) to forſake.
135
ed for me, and which I have rendered myſelf un-
worthy of; : - oh pour them all down on my belov-
ed 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, look-
ing towards heaven in ſilenţ anguiſh, and ļis eyes
full of tears. At length he roſe, and with his fio-
ne-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 fon! Then he killed the dear names,
and bathed them with his tears. In proceſs 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 include 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 in-
to this iſland...
:.. THEOPHILUS. I think, God Almighty might
now ſave him and cany him back again to his pa-
rents! .
FATHER. God Almighty, who alone can fore-
ſee, what is to come, and what is good for him,
will order his fate accordingly.. \ This true, Robin-
136
son is now in all appearance in the beſt road to dai-
ly amendment, but who knows, what would beco-
me of him, if he now were on a ſudden delivered
from his island, and carried back to his parents !
how eaſily do men relapſe into their former vices !
Oh, my children! it is a very true ſaying: Let him,
who ftandeth; take heed, left lie fall! .
Whilft Robinson was thus walking about along
the ſea - Chore, he thought, that it would not be
amiſs, to bathe himſelf. He therefore fiript 25); but,
how great was his altoniſhment, when he ſaw, in
what ragged condition his ſhirt was, the only one
he had. As he had already 'worn 26) it ſo very long
in ſuch a hot climate, it was ſcarce perceptible, that
the linen had ever been white before. He therefore
made it his firlt buſineſs, to walh his Chiri as well
as he could, before he bathed himſelf, and having
hung 27) it on a tree, he jumped into the water.
In his youth he had learned to ſwim, and ſo he
diverted himſelf with ſwimming to a ſnall neck of
land, that lay pretty far in the ſea, and where ho
had never been yet.
FREDERIC. A neck of land, what is that? :
FATHER. So they call à narrow track of land,
which from an iſland or continent is running into
tlie ſea. Look! if yon bank nf our ſmall lake which
runs into the water, were a little longer, it would
be a neck of land. Do you underſtand me now?"
TreDeRIC. Oh, yes !
· Father. This thought of our Robinson's prova
25) to ſtrip. 26) to wear. 27) to hang.
13.1
ed allo very lucky. He found, that this neck of
land was under water, 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 pro-
vided, but he heartily rejoiced at having made this
new diſcovery.
Where he ſwam 28), the ſea was ſo very full
of fiſh, that he could almoſt catch them with his
hands; and if he fiad had a net, he might have take
en them by thouſands. It is true he had no net aš
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 au
Chore, after having been an hour in the water. The
warm air had quite dried his ſhirt, and now 'he en-
joyed the pleaſure of putting on clean linen.
But the thought, how long this joy would laſt,
and how ſoon this only ſhirt, which he was obli-
ged to wear continually, would be worn 29) out,
and what he ſhould do then ? - This thought great-
ly damped his joy. However lie foon took courage
again, and having dreſſed himſelf, he went home
finging: Whoever places all his truft etc.
Joix. I am glad to find himi no more ſo de-
jected, and thât lie now begins to truſt in God.
CHARLOTTE. O! I wiſh Robinson would come
to us, I like him very much now.
28) to livim. $9) to wear.
138
THEOPHILUS. Nay! If Papa would pleaſe to gi-
ve me ſome paper, I ſhould like to write him a lec-
ter,
Nicolas. And ſo would 1.
į John, I ſhould be glad to write him a letter
too, :
: CHARLOTTE. And ſo would I, if I could but
write. .
Mother. You' may te!l 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 all come paper,
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 let-
ter! Read it, pray! . . .
FATHER. (reading.) *)
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 ! Theophilus and Jolin ſend their com-
*). Theſe letters and many queſtions and anſwers
are literally ſuch, as were made and written 30)
il by the children.
30) to write.
เg
pliments to you, and ſo do Dick and Nicholas. Com
me and ſee us once, and I'll give you better inftruc-
tions.
:)
Crie
CHARLOTTE.
:
THEOPHILƯS. Now mine, dear Papa! here is it.
11
:. :FATHER. (reading);, !
:: My dear pFriend!
* 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 knowing you, I love
you very much and am. . .:::.. .
.: Hamburgh. :. . !. .
the 7. Febr. 1779. - Your faithful Friend
THEOPHILUS.
NICOLAS. Here is mine! It made it but very
Chort.
FATHER. (reading:) ...
... Deareſt Robinson! "
* I am grieved, that you are lo iinhappy! If you
had ſtaid with youur parents, that misfortune would
never have befallen you, Fare well! return ſoon to
your dear parents. Once more fare well.
. I am
Hamburgh,
the 7. Febr. 1779.: -Your faithful Friend
NICOLAS
TIL
140
John. Now mine!
FATHER. (reading.)
Honoured Robinson!
I pity yon, that you are quite ſeparated from
all living creatures. I believe, that you now repent
your inconſideracy. 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 certain-
ly provide for you. Fare well once more. I am
Your
Hamburgh,
faithful Friend
the 7. Febr. 1779.
Јону.
have undergrouw as yet,
Dick. Oh, mine is good for nothing!
FATHER. But come, let's hear it!
Dick. I wrote 31) it down "in halte, that I
might ſoon be back again.
FATHER. (reading.)
Dear Mr. Robinson!
How do you do in your iſland ? I hear, you
have undergone 32) many misfortunes. I ſuppoſe,
you don't know as yet, whether your iſland be in-
habited or not? which I thou'd like to know. I
have alſo been informed, that you found 33) 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 deal of gold make men better and hap-
pier here in Europe.).
It would have been better for you, had you
31) to write. 32) to undergo 33) to find.
Thờüd like
141
found iron inſtead of it, of which you might have
made yourſelf a knife, a hatchet and other tools.
Fare well! I am..
Hamburgh,
the 7. Febr. 1779. Your friend
: Dick:
THEOPHILUS. But how are we to ſend our let-
ters now?
CHARLOTTE. Why, we may give them to the
firſt captain, who fails for America ; and by him we
may ſend him ſomething too! I will ſend him rai-
fins and almonds; you will give me ſome, dear Ma.
ma, won't you?
John. (whiſpering to the father.) They really
believe, that Robinson is fiill 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 beën bathing himſelf.
FATHER. You forget, dear Theophilus, that
what I told 34) you of Robinson, happened above
two hundred years ago. He is dead long lince,
But I will have your letters printed in the hiſtory,
34) to tell.
142
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. .
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 ha-
ve 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 how.
143
-
EIGHTH E V ENING.
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 hafie, to come back again. Papa is
going to continue 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 get my ſhire
dry again.
144
FATFIEP, You didn't conſider, that it is not ſo
warm in this conntry, as in Robinson’s iſland. But,
where did we leave off yeſterday?
Dick. Where Robinson went to reſt and the
next morning -
· FATHER. Oh, now I recollect! - The next
morning Robinson rose 35) very early and prepared
for the chace He filled his pouch with roaſted po-
tatoes, and a good piece of roaſted turtle, which
he had wrapped up in cocao - leaves. Then he pure
his hatchet into his girdle, tied the cord, which he
had twified the day before, about his waiſt, took
his umbrella in his liand, 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
fitting 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 ha-
ve it for his companion. But the old ones were too
cunning, to be taken with the hand, and he could
no where find a neft with yonng ones. So he was
obliged to defer the accompliſhment of this wiſh to
another time.
But inſtead of that, he diſcovered in the pro-
greſs of his walk ſomething more neceſſary than a
parrot. When he was getting up a hill, near the
fea , and looking down between the cliffs, he law
$5) to riſe.
145
ſomething, that excited his curioſity. He therefore
ſcrambled down, and, to his very great ſatiſfaction,
he found, that it was – What do you think?
Dick. Pearls!
JOHN. Nay, that would not have rejoiced him
much! – I ſuppoſe it was iron.
NICOLAS Why, have you forgotten, that iron
is not to be found in thoſe hot countries? – Per-
haps 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. -
. FATHER. I perceive, you won't be able to gueſs
it; ſo I'll rather tell it you. What he found, was
ſalt.
lle had indeed hitherto in ſome meaſureſ upplied
the want of it, by ſea- water, but after all that was
no falt. Beſides this, ſea - water has a bitter taſte,
which is very disagreeable; and moreover it was a
miliake, to think, that meat would keep in it, be.
cauſe ſea- water grows putrid as well as river- water,
when it comes to ſtand ſtill in a veſſel. He therefore
thought himſelf very happy in finding 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! Some is dug 36)
out of the earth, ſome is boiled from falt - Water,
36) to dig.
(10)
146
which ſprings out of the ground, and ſome is alſo
made of ſea - water.
FATHER. Very right! Now falt is boiled out
of ſea - water, not only by men, but alſo by the ſun.
THEOPHILU8. The ſun ?
FATHER. Yes, when any ſea - water is left 37)
on" ſhore, after a high tide or an idundation, the
ſun dries it up by degrees, and what then remains,
is falt.
CHARLOTTE. Why, that is very odd!
FATHER. So bountifully has God Almighty pro-
vided for us, that thoſe things, which we are moſt
in need of, require the leaſt preparation by art, and
· are found in the greateſt abundance.
Now Robinson went quite ſatiſfied to the place,
where he expected to catch a lama. When he arriv-
ed 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 and potatoes ! Oh how much
more reliſhing was this meal now, as he had ſome
ſalt, to eat with it!
.: Juſt when he 'lad done eating, he diſcovered
ſome lamas capering about at a diſtance. - -
· Robinson put himſelf quickly in readineſs, and
waited for them, with his fuare 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 fo , and from that moment the lama was in his
poſſeſſion!
67) to leave.
147
It was going to bleát, but his fear, that the
reſt might be frightened by its made him draw the
ſnare ſo cloſe, that the poor creature was not able
to utter a found. Then he drew 38) it as faſt as
poſſible into the wood, that the reſt might not ſee
jt.
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 ani-
mals for our nle, if we do not abuſe them.
: Now Robinson was highly delighted, to ſee his
with ſo happily accompliſhed. He dragged the cap-
tive animal, notwithſtanding 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 he arrived at his
habitation at lalt.
But now another difficulty ſtarted. How was
he to get his lama into his yard, which as you
38) to draw.
- 748
know, was well encompaſſed with trees 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 ma-
ke a ſmall ſtall, on one lide of his yard, and keep
the lama with her young ones in it, till he could
find out ſome better contrivance.
He faftened his lama to a tree, whilft he was
making a fiall for her. He cut a good many young
trees with his hatchet, and planted them fo cloſe
together, as to make a pretty furong wall. The tir-
ed lama had in the mean time laid herſelf down and
the young ones, 'not knowing that they were cap-
tives, lay by her fucking at their eaſe.
. Oh how delightful was this light to our Roa?
binson! More than ten times he ſtopped to look at
the little animals, and thought himſelf now very
happy, to have ſome living creatures about him for
his companions! From this moment his life,fſeemed
no longer quite ſolitary to him, and the ſatisfaction
he felt 39) at it, gave him ſo much firength and
ſprightlineſs, that his ſtall was finiſhed in a very
ſhort time. 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 expreſled! Beſides the company of theſe ani-
mals, which of itſelf was invaluable to him, he ex-
pected many more advantages from them, and that
he juftly might! Of their wool, he could in time
39) to feel.
149
learn to make himſelf ſome cloathes, he could drink
their milk, or make butter and cheeſe of it. It is
true, he did not know as y'et', how to ſet about all
this, but he had already ſufficiently experienced, that
we ought not to deſpair of our abilities, if we have
but inclination and induſtry enough to work.
One thing fill was deſcient 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 ſa-
tiſfaction to accuſtom them to his company. . .
For a long while he puzzled his brains, how to
execute this intention, without coming to any re-
ſolution. However at length he reſolved to break
down one lide of his wall, to take out the trees,
and to plant others in a greater circumference, in or.
der 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 lie might in the mean tiine live Cafe in his ha-
bitation.
By his indefatigable induſtry the work was fic
niſhed 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 with his firft companion the ſpider had
given him, when he firſt diſcovered it; and he con-
tinued daily to feed it with flies and midges. That
inſect too, foon perceived his friendly intention to.
wards it, and grew ſo intimate with him, that he
150
no ſooner touched the web , but it came down to
receive the fly from his hand. .. . ..
The lama allo and her young ones, in a very
ſhort time uſed themſelves to his company. Every ti-
me he came home, they jumped to meet him, ſmelled
about him, as if they expected, he had brought ſo-
mething home for’em 40) and gratefully licked his
hand, whenever he gave „them any freſh graſs or
youvg bouglis.
'. After this he weaned the young ones from the
mother, and began to milk her regularly every mor-
ning and evening. His cocoa- ſhell he uſed inſtead
of a ſmall milk pan and his turtle - Chell as a large
one: and the milk he uſed partly ſweet, and the
reft he left to grow four. All this greatly contribut-
ed to increaſe the pleaſures of his folitary life..
. As the cocoa- tree proved ſo very uſeful to liim,
he wiſhed for his life, to multiply it! But how
could that be done? He had indeed heard', that trees
might bę grafted or inoculated, but he had never
troubled his head about the manner of doing it. -He
would often cry out, fighing: 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 peo-
ple! 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,
40) e. i. for them.'
151
. Though he had known the art of grafting ever
ſo well, yet it would have been of no uſe to him
now, becauſe the cocoa - 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 41) round with
a rag or bale 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 ſa'w 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 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 young ones, were in a
ſhort time become as tame, as dogs are with us. He
therefore began, by degrees to uſe them for his con-
veniency, to carry burthens, 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 fide wall, juſt large enough
foi a lama to creep thro'. This place he covered
with thick buſhes, ſo that it could noć be ſeen from
41) to wind.
152
without, and every night he carefully cloſed it up
with boughs.
. It was delightful to ſee him "come liome 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 ftopt, that lie might
firſt take off her load, then ſhe crept 42) thro' the
hole and Robinson followed the ſame way. The re-
turn of the old lama was a great feſtivity for her
young ones! They expreſſed their joby capering
and bleating, by running to their mother, then
from her again to their maſter, whom they careſſed:
and Robinson' was ſo delighted with all their de-
monftrations of joy," as a father can be with thoſe
of his children , when after an abſence of ſome days,
he returns home again, al 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 in-
ſtances of that gratitude, ſo that we ſhould almoli
be tempted to imagine, that they had human under-
ſtanding, did we not know from other reaſons, that
this is not the caſe with them.
Dick. Oh yes, the lion, I read of in our little
book, and the man - oh, what is his name?
JOHN. Androclus !
Dick. Oh yes - He, who drew a thorn out
of a lion's paw! :D
THÆOPHILUS. That was indeed a very good
42) to creep,
153
.
lion! He loved Androclus ſo much for this relief
afforded to him, that ſome time after, when he was
to tear him to pieces, he did him not the leaſt
harm, - Nay, if they were all lo, 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 fame that fa-
ved the lives of two' men.
CHARLOTTE. Oh, dear Jolin, tell us that ſtory!
John. There was once a man in Switzerland :
CHARLOTTE. Oh yes, from whence the mar.
mottos come? ...
JOHN. Even there. This man climbed up an
enormous high mountain, ſo high - naý, I dare
ſay, ten times as high, as St. Michael's ſteeple !
THEOPHILUS. You forget ſomething, dear bro-
ther! He took a guide with him.
John. He did ſo indeed! — Well, and the guia
de 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 almoft
come to the top, the gentleman's foot ſlipt 43) and
the guide, who was going to help him, ſlipt like-
wiſe, and ſo they were both rolling down., and juli,
when they were but a few fieps from the brink of
43) to flip.
154
a precipice, above a mile deep, the faithful dog got
hold of the ſkirt of his master's coat, who then
held 44) the gentleman and ſtopt 45) him from fall-
ing 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 Il. He defired his guide to
come and ſee him now and then at his houſe, and
by all means to bring the dog along with hin, for
whom he would always have a fried ſauſage.
CHARLOTTE. Did the man do fo then ?
• Jonn. Oh yes! Whenever the guide came to
ſee him, he always entertained him in the beſt man-
ner, and never failed to treat his dog with fried
ſauſages.
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 fione, and to compleat all, what is requi-
lite for a bricklayer, he even made himſelf a level
44) to hold, 45) to ſtop,
155
and a plummet as well as he could. I ſuppoſe you
know theſe things ?
::. NICOLAS. Oh yes, we have ſeen them pretty
often.'
FATHER. Having now made all theſe necellary
preparations for his work, he took one of his lamas,
and brought a ſufficient number of bricks on her
back home.
John. But how could he put the bricks on
the lama's back ?
- FATHER. You'll hardly gueſs , how he contriv-
ed 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 uſe.
ful art of baſket-making. But in his youth he had
never thought it worth his while, to obſerve a baſe
ket-maker with attention, whien he was at work,
ſo that he knew 10 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 af-
terwards employed many leiſure hours in this kind of
work', lie had by degrees 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 launa's back, ſo that there was
one on each ſide.
THEOPHILUS. Oh, Papa, I ſhould like to learn
to make baſkets too!
FATHER. And ſo ſhould 1, dear Theophilus;
156 .
and I will therefore, on the very firſt opportunity,
defire a baſket - maker to give us ſome inſtructions.
: THEOPHILUS. Ob fine! Then I'll make a pret-
ty neat little baſked for my Charlotte.
CHARLOTTE. And I'll learn it too! ſhall not I
* Papa ?
FATHER. Oh yes! It will do you no harm.
IVe often want to be employ'd, while I am telling
you fiories; and baſket - making will then ſuit us
very well.
Now' Robinson began to build his wall, in
which he ſucceeded pretty well. · He had already
finiſhed one ſide - wall of his kitchen, and laid the
I foundation of tlie other: when, all of a ſudden,
there happened lomething, which he had not fore-
ſeen, and which cauſed a very great impediment to
his work.
Jonn. 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 frightened him almoſt as much, as if the ſavages
had come to roaſt him alive.
..John. Well, and what was it then? :
FATHER. It was night, and Robinson lay 46)
on his couch, with his faithful lamas at his feet.
The moon Phone 47) in her full luftre; the air was
ſerene and huſhed, and a profound filence prevailed
over all nature. Robinson tired with the , fatigues
46) to lio. 47) to fhine.
157
of the day, was lying in a ſweet ſlumber and dream
ing, as he often uſed to do, of his dear parents ,
when ſuddenly – but no! we will not conclude
this evening with ſo frightful an aceident. We
might dream of it in the night, and then our ſleep
would be very refileſs. .
AL!, Oli, poor Robinson! .
FATHER. Let us rather turn our thoughts to
ſomething more agreeable, that we may alſo cloſe
this day with joy and thanks to our heavenly fa-
ther - Come, my children, we will firli pay a viſit
to our flower-beds, and then to our arbour. .
158
ΝΙ Ν Τ Η Ε VE NIN G.
YA
The father having brought the tale ſo far as we
have ſeen at the end of the laſt chapter, there oc-
curred ſo many occupations, that evenings palled
on, before he could reſume his narration.
. However the young people of the houſe were
not a little concerned about poor Robinson, and cu-
rious to know what might have befallen him: they
would willingly have given their beſt toy, nay
ſomething more valuable, if they could have been
inform'd what had happened to him that night,
which was laft mention'd. But no perſon but the
father could tell it them; and he thought proper
not to mention it to them, till he had ſufficient time
to purſue his ſtory regularly.
This created continual conjectures among them,
and greatly puzzled their brains, whilft the father
continued in this diſagreeable filence. One gueſed
this, another that; but nothing would intirely fit
159
the circumſtances, which they had already been told:
of the unknown adventure. .
, But why are we not to know it yet “ laid
ſome of them, with a very piteous aſpect.
„I have my reaſons, “ anſwered the father.
As the children were accuſtomed to be ſatiſfied
with this anſwer, they preſled him no farther, and
with modeft impatience waited for the hour, when
the reaſons of this filence ſhould ceaſe. However,
as grown perſons can eaſily look into the hearts of
children, and gueſs all their thoughts, it was not
very difficult for the father to read in the connte-
nance of ſome of them: „But what may thoſe rea-
fons be, that detain him ſo long from gratifying our
curioſity.“ He therefore thought it once more ne-
ceſſary on this occaſion, to convince them, that it was
not for want of good will, to oblige them but that his
reaſons, for acting in this manner, muſt be ofimportance,
„Prepare, “ ſaid he to them, „10 ſet out early
to morrow morning, on your long wiſhed for jour-
ney to Travemund on the Baltic! “.
To Travemund? – To the Baltic. - To mor-
row morning? – Shall I go to dear Papa? was
the general cry, and when the liter, without ex-
cepting any one, anſwered all their queſtions in the
affirmative, there aroſe 48) ſuch ſhouts of joy, as
have certainly not been heard of laie, nor will be
heard again in a ſhort time,
„To Trayemund! to Travemund! where is my
ſtick ? Jenny, where are my half boots ? quick the
. 48) to ariſe.
. 160
bruſh! the comb! a clean ſhirt! To Travemund! ob
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 ;
without waiting for an anſwer. They were with
difficulty prevailed on to go to bed that night, bem
cauſe they were lo impatient, that they could. 1100
wait for the return of day - light, and the beginning
of their journey.
At the firſt' dawn of the day the whole louſe
was in motion. The drum was beaten before every
bed - chamber, and all were obliged to riſe.
And now when all, young and old, were in
readineſs, and the latter almoſt devoured by the kila
ſes and carelles 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 re-
mained 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 incofiderately, if we began
our journey to day.
161
The ChildPEN „ But why ſo ?“ (with an in--
terrupted voice and a ſuppreſled 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 Travemund,
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.
The CHILDREN. „Oh it is poffible, the wind
may change to day!“
FATHER. Beſides I have reflected, that if we
wait four weeks longer, it would be jult about the
zime, 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
Tråve, where the fiſhermen catch them without any
great, difficulty. That we ſhould like to ſee too,
ſhoud not we?
THE CHILDREN. „Yes – but _!"
FATHER. But now comes my firongeſt réafon!
What wonld our new friends jew and Ferdi-
rand think, who will be here in a few weeks, if we
had taken this journey before their arrival? would
they not high 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 als
ways filently make ourſelves reproaches for not ha-
(11)
162
ving 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 filence. !
FATHER, You know I always keep my word;
ſo that, if you inlift upon it, we ſhall ſet off; if
not, you do me, and our future friends and your-
ſelvesi a particular ſervice. Speak now? what ſhall
be done?
„We will wait; “ they all anſwered, and thus
the fipe journey was deferred to another time.
It was very plain, that this ſelf-denial was ve-
ry hard to many, neither were they lialf 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 daya will often happen to you in the
courſe of your life. You will ſometimes expect this
or that earthly liappineſs; 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 happi-
neſs, you'll find irſelves ſuddenly diſappointed by
the wiſdom of divine providence, and all your ho.
pes fruſtrated
„The reaſons, why your heavenly father acts
lo towards you, will ſeldom appear to you ſo clear-
ly as thoſe which hindered us this morning from
going to Travemund. God being infinitely wiſer
than I am, looks into the remoteſt futurity and of-
163
ten 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. Wliereas I only foreſaw the con-
ſequences of four weeks.,
„Now if every thing liad fucceeded to your
wiſhes in your youth, and had you always obtained
the things you hoped for, at the time you expected
sthem, oh my children! how ſad would be the con-
ſequences in your older days, how would it pervert
your hearts! and how unhappy would this prevert-
ed heart make you, when, in your future life, the
time will come, that every thing does not go enti.
rely 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? —
Nothing but this; you muft early accuftom yourſela
ves to renounce thoſe pleaſures, which you would
willingly have enjoyed. This often repeated ſelf-
denial will firengthen you, firengthen your minds
and hearts and enable you, to bear with reſigned
fortitude, whatever our wiſe and moſt bountiful
maker has decreed for your good"
: „This my children is the key to that conduct,
which we grown people ſometimes make uſe of to-
wards you, and which to you may ſeem to be a
riddle! You will remember, that we often refuſed
you a pleaſure, which you would willingly have
164
enjoyed. Sometimes we told you the reaſons of our
refuſal, that is, when you could conceive them,
and we thought proper you ſhould know them, and
ſometimes we did not, and why did we fo ? - Ve-
ry often, it was to exerciſe yoù in patience and mo-
deration, virtues ſo very neceſary to all men, and
to prepare you for the reſt of your lives ! <
„Now you alſo know, why I would not tell
you any more of our Robinson all theſe days paftec
I might caſily have ſpared ſo much time, as was
requiſite to explain you at lealt the circumſtances,
which I lately concluded with, and about which I
left you all in lo diſagreeable an uncertainty. But
no, I did not tell you a ſingle word more of it;
notwithftanding your entreaties, and tho' I am very
averſe from refuſing you any thing." And why
did I lo, Charlotte ?
CHARLOTTE. It was to teach us patience.
FATHER. Right! And certainly, if you hereaf-
ter. have any obligations to me, it will be for ac-
cuſtoming you to renounce the pollefion of a thing,
you greatly valued and longed for, without much
regret. - #
Thus ſome days more paſſed without any men-
tion of Robinson. At laſt the long wiſhed for hour
arrived, when the father, was no longer hindered
from ſatiſfying their curioſity. He therefore continu-
ed 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 lamas at his feet. A profound filen-
165
ce prevailed through all nature, 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 roaring was liëard under
the earth, as if many thunder ſtorms were breaking
out at one time. Robinson awoke 49) with terror,
he ſtarted up, without knowing what was the mat-
ter, or what to do. That ſame moment ſeveral dread.
ful ſhocks ſucceeded each other, the tremendous ſub-
terranean rumbling continued; at the ſame time there
aroſe a howling hurricane, that broke 50) the trees,
tore 51) thg up by the root, made the rocks tum-
ble down, and ſo agitated the ſea, that it roared
aloud from the deepeſt abyſs. All nature ſeemed to
be in an uproar, and to draw near her diſſolution.
Robinson terrified to death, ruſhed out from
his cave, into the yard, and his firightened 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 52) through the open-
ing of his wall, with his terrified lamas following
him.
..
His firſt intention was, to get upon a neigh-
bouring hill, on one fide of which there was a
plain without wood, that he might not be cruſhed
by the falling trees. He was juſt going to run thi-
ther, when all of a ſudden , to his great alioniſh-
ment and terror, he beheld that very ſame ſpot of
the hill open into a wide gulph, from which ſmoak-
ing fames, cinders, ſtones and burning matter,
49) to ayyake. 50) to break. 51) to tear. 52) to flee.
166
called Lava, iſſued. He was ſcarce able to ſave him-
ſelf by fight, becauſe the burning Lava poured down
like a torrent, caſting large fiones, like a ſhower of
rain, on all ſides.
He ran to the ſea - ſhore. But here a dreadful
ſcene awaited him. · A violent' whirlwind blowing
from all quarters, had driven a great many clouds
cloſe together, from which ſuch a dreadful torrent
came down at once, that the whole iſland diſapear-
ed in a moment, and ſeemed to be chang'd into ſea.
Such an unuſual torrent from the clouds is com.
monly called a water-ſpouti
i Our Robinson could ſcarce ſave himſelf, by
climbing up into a tree; but his poor lamas were
carried off by the violence 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 tor-
rent not carried them already too far off!
This earthquake continued for ſome minutes ,
when every thing was calmed all of a ſudden. The
wind abated; by degrees the niountain cealed to vo-
mit forth the fire; the ſubterranean rumbling was huſli-
ed; the ſky became ſerene again, and all the water
ſubfided in leſs than a quarter of an hour.
THEOPHILUS. (with a deep ſigh.) God be praiſ-
ed; it is, over. Poor Robinson and the poor lamas !
CHARLOTTE. This has horribly frightened me.
FREDERIC. Pray, what is the cauſe of an earth-
quake ?
167
JOHN. Papa has told us that long ago, before
you came həre.
FATHER, Explain it to him, John!"..
John. There are many large and wide cavities
in the earth, like ſo many cellars, which are full
of air and vapours. Beſides there are all ſorts of
combuſtible matters in the earth, ſuch as brimſtone,
pitch, roſin and the like; theſe ſometimes are hcated
and begin to burn, when any dampneſs comes to
them.
THEOPHILUS. Dampneſs? Can wétneſs 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 #fire; and yet there is no fire at all near
them! - Well in the ſame manner, thoſe matters
begin to burn in the earth, whenever, any water
gets to them; and when they are once burning, the
air which is incloſed in theſe large cavities, ſpreads
abroad to exceſſively, that at length there is no mo-
re 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 burning and melted mat-
ter along with it.
FATHER. ' And this matter conſiſting of melted
ftones, metals and the like, is called lava. I have
read ſomewhere, that a ſmall volcano may be imi-
tated; if you have a mind we will make a trial ſome
day or other.
168
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 mals heats and catches fire of itſelf,
and then we have in miniature, '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.
All. Oh yes! Oh yes, dear Papa!
FATHER. Of this more at an other time. -
Robinson, now getting down from the tree,
on which he had taken his refuge, was ſo dejected
at the miſfortune, that had befallen him, that lie
never once remembered, to return thanks 10 HIM
who lo viſibly had ſaved him from death. His fitu-
ation, indeed, was again as miſerable as ever; the
only ſecure retreat, he had hitherto found, was in
all probability ruined; his dear, faithful lamas carri-
ed off by the torrent, all his former l'abours render-
ed uſeleſs, and all his fine ſchemes for future times
baffled! The hill indeed had ceaſed caſting forth
fire, but ſtill there aroſe a thick black ſmoke 'from
the gulph, and it was poſlible, that it might remain
a volcano 'ever after; and if it did, how was it poſfia?
ble for Robinson, to be a moment ealy? had he 1106
every day a new earth - quake, or a new exploſion
of the mountain to apprehend?
. Theſe melancholy thoughts grieved him ſorely.
He was overwhelmed with forrow and inſtead of
applying to the true ſource of comfort – to God,
169
his thoughts were only employ'd with the miſery
of his future condition, which preſented itſelf to
him as infinitely great and unſpeakable.
· Spent with anguiſh and oppreffion, he was lea-
ning againſt the tree, from which he had got down,
and his oppreſled breaſt vented incellant lighs.. In
this comfortleſs fituation he remained, till the dawn
proclaimed a new day,
THEOPHILUS. (to friend R.) Now I ſee, that
Papa was right.
TRIEND R. In what?
TheophILUS. I lately imagined, that Robinson
was become, 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..
NICOLAS. I think ſo too. And now I don't
like Robinson 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 goodneſs
and wiſdom ,. as he had experienced. But before we
condemn him, let us firſt put ourſelves in his place
and aſk our own liearts, if we ſhould have acted
170
better , if in his place? What do you think, Nico-
las, would you have been eaſier in Robinson's place ?
NICOLAS. (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 fiill
recollect, how dejected it ſometimes made you? And
yet, it was but a trilling, tranſitory ſuffering, wliich
lalied 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
and filial mind - What do you think, my lad, may
I not doubt of that? –
Your filence is the beſt anſwer to this queſtion.
You cannot know yourſelf, how you would behave
in that caſe, becauſe you never were in it. All we
can do now, is to accufiom ourſelves, to turn our
eyes to God, and to be always patient and reſign'd,
when any ſuch trivial and inſignificant evils befall
11s. That will ſtrengthen our hearts from day to
day, and enable us to bear greater ſufferings, wlien.
ever God ſhall pleaſe to ſend them.
:. The new day approached, and the riſing joyful
light of it found poor Robinson in that comfortleſs
htuation, 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 dilmal, melancholy queſtion: What will nový
become of me?
At laſt he ſet out and like a dreamer reeled to-
wards his deſtroy'd habitation. But, how gret was
the joyful ſurprize that ſeized him, when near his
yard – what do you think? — his dear lamas cane
ſafe and ſound jumping to meet him! At firſt he
could not believe his eyes; but all his doubts were
foon 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 hithere
to had ſeemed to be dead, recovered. He looked
on his lamas and to heaven by turns, and a tear of
joy, gratitude and repentance of his deſpondeney,
trickled down his cheeks. Then he loaded his re-
ſtored friends with joyful careſſes; and accompanied
by them, he went to ſee, what was become of his
habitation?
Dick. But in what manner had the lamas ſaved
themſelves?
FATHER. It is probable, that the torrent had
carried them to ſome riſing ground, where they
could ftand on their legs; and the water, ſubſiding
as faſt, as it had poured down from the clouds,
they ſoon returned to their habitation.
Robinson now ftood before his cavern, and .ae
gain to his ſhame he found, that the damage was
not near ſo great, as in his defpondency, 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 im-
poffible, to get all theſe ruins out of his cavern ato
172
gain, and then it would be twice as large as it was
before,
· Another circumſtance again plainly ſhowed, that
divine providence had not done this to puniſh Ro-
binson, but rather to Chew him her kindneſs. 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
fides. Therefore nothing, was more probable, than
that ſooner or later, it would have fallen down of
itſelf. God, by his Omniſcience, had foreſeen this,
and that it might probably fall at a time, when Ro-
binson was in his cavern. But as his wiſdom and
goodneſs. had deſtined him a longer life, he had ſo
ordered the earth, from the beginning of the world,
that juſt about that time there ſhould be an earth-
quake in that iſland. Even the ſubterraneous rum-
bling, and the howling of the ſtorm , however dread-
ful in the ears of Robinson, contributed to ſave him.
For if this earth - quake liad happened without any
noiſe, Robinson would probably not have been awa-
kened, and then the falling rock would certainly
have cruſhed him, and put an end to his life.
.: Look, my children, thus God had again pro-
vided for him, at the very time he thought himſelf
: forſaken; and ſaved him, by that ſame dreadful ac-
cident, which Robinson, at firſt, had conſidered as
his greateft misfortune.
And this, my dear children, you will often ha-
ve occaſion to experience in your future life. If you
will but duly mind the ways, which divine pro-
173
vidence ſhall pleaſe to lead you, you will always
obſerve two things, in all the melancholy accidents
of life, that will happen in your future days, viz: 53)
FIRSTThat men always conſider the miſfortu-
nes, 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 childı:n. -- Rejoice in this comforta-
ble truth!
There lives a God, who loveš mankind, his
work! This all nature does us proclaim:
The miſt that makes the fky look dark,
The cleareſt fun - Chine does the ſame.
'This ſeen by thunder clouds, that lowt,
And woods and mountains move;
”Tis ſeen by the refreſhing ſhow'r,
Which pours down from above. ' -
We fee it now in lappineſs
With joy, delight and pleaſure;
We may ſee it too in diſtreſs,
Vyhen ſuff'ring in ſome meaſure.
-53) to wit.
174
TEN TH E VE NIN G.
(The father continues his ſtory.)
ROBINSON, accuſtomed ſome time ſince to join
prayers and labour together, profirated 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 to re-
quire the ſtrength of more than one man, to be re-
moved. ;
He attempted to move the leaſt of them, but in
vain! He found, that this work exceeded his force;
he now ftood 54) regarding them both in deep re-
flection, 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
:54) to ſtand.
175
1
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 ſirong, long flick; one end of which
is put under the beam or fione, that is to be remove
ed: and then a ftone, 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 roll-
ed 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 fa-
me expedient at laſt preſented itſelf to his imagina-
tion. He recollected, that in his youth he had oft-
en ſeen workmen do ſo, in removing heavy bur-
thens, and he haſtened to make a trial of it.
He ſucceeded in his attempt, and in half * an
hour's time, the two ftones, which could not have
been ſtirred by four men, were rolled out of his
cavern; and now he had the fatiſfaction of ſeeing
his habitation twice as large as before, and in all
appearance perfectly ſafe. For now the walls as well,
as the vault over head, conſiſted of one ſingle fio-
ne, in which there was not the leaſt crack.
NICOLAS. 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
176
the ruins; at leaſt Robinson never ſaw it again, and
his other friends, the lãmas, made him ample amends
for this loſs.
Now le ventured to take a walk to the volca-
no, from which a black ſmoak ſtill continued to if-
ſue. He was aſtoniſhed at the great quantity of
melted matter, which had run about on all fides ,
and which was not yet cooled. For this time he
obſerved the dreadful and majeſtic ſpectacle of the
ſmoking abyſs, only at a certain diſtance; becauſe his
fear as well as the hot laya hindered him from ap-
proaching nearer.
When he perceived that the torrent of the lava
had taken its courſe towards the place, where his
potatoes were growing, he wss not a litıle frighten-
ed, left it ſhould entirely have ruined this whole
place, and he could not be eaſy, till he liad convinc-
ed himſelf of the contrary. He therefore ran to the
(pot, and to his great joy found the whole planta-
tion unhurt. From that moment he reſolved to plant
potatoes 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 wight be of a nature to keep good the whole
winter in the earth.
After having executed this reſolution, he began
again to work at his kitchen, in which the dreadful
revolution of nature, * he ſuffered, had procured
him great advantage. The volcano had among many
other things thrown out a vaſt quantity of lime
177
fiones, which muft 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 li-
me ftones into it, then to pour water on them, and
to ſtir the maſs, by which means the lime was ſlak-
ed, 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.
Duriug this time the volcano had ceaſed ſmok-
ing, and Robinson ventured to examine it. He found
the Gides and the bottom covered with cold lava,
and when he ſaw, that not the leaft ſmoke iſſued
from any part of it, he had reaſon to hope, that
the ſubterraneous fire was quite extinguiſh'd and that
he had no further eruption to fear.
Encouraged by theſe hopes, his thoughts were
bent 55) on laying in proviſions for winter. For
this purpoſe he caught 56) eight låmas, one after
another, in the ſame manner as he had done the firft.
All theſe he killed, except a ram, which he kept 57)
as a companion for his three tame lamas; moſt part
of the meat he hung 58) up in his kitchen, to have
it ſmoked. But before he did ſo, he falted 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
65) to bend. 56) to catch. 67) to keep. 58) to hang.
(12)
178
yet he feared, it might not be enough, in caſe, the
wiñter 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 invcnt" ſome new method
of ſeizing them. . -
:: "This way he foon found out; ſo inexhauſtible
is the underſtanding of man, if properly exerted,
in finding lout means to promote its' happineſs! He
had obſerved that the lamas, when they got 59)
light of him near the ſpring, always 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
lad obſerved that the lamas alwys jump'd over the-
Se buſhes and down the wall at one leap, and this
obſervation was ſufficient 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 60) in it. His
indefatigable induſtry finiſhed this work in a day
and a half; and he covered the hole 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 loſs, how to
preſerve it the whole winter, if heaven had not by
69) to get. 60) to catch.
179
the earthquake provided him with a convenient cel-
lar; for, cloſe by his cavern, another piece of ground
had lunk 61) in, of about two fathoms deep, which
now formed a ſecond cavern, the entrance of which
was alſo in his yard. Thus he now had an habitá-
tion, cellar and kitchen cloſe together, juſt as if they
had been made on purpoſe and by art. .
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 lamàs,
then fuel, and finally to dig up his potatoes and put
them in his cellar.
In his yard he made a hay-rick, in the form of
a pyramid, of the hay he had gathered, as, country
people do with us, and as often as he added ſome
hay to it, he trod 62) it ſo cloſe together, that the
rain could not eaſily ſoak into it. But here he gave
another inſtance of ignorance 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, be-
cauſe he never troubled his head about husbandry;
but in his preſent ſituation he learned, how good
it is, to obſerve every thing, and to acquire as
much knowledge as poſſible, tho' we can not fore-
ſee, of what uſe it may be to us.
161) to fink. 62) to tread.
180
He was therefore not a little ſurpriſed, when he
faw his hay-rick begin to ſmoke; but his aſtoniſh-
ment ftill encreaſed , when, on putting his hand in,
to it, he found the hay burning hot. He could not
but think, fome 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 on-
ly that the hay was hot and damp. At laſt he was
ſo happy , as to hit on the true cauſe, and ſuppoſed
the moiſture muſt have heated it, tho' he could not
gueſs the reaſon.
· JOHN. But in what manner can mere dampneſs
heat any thing?
FATHER. Dear John! There are a thouſand
ſuch phenomena in nature, and human underſtand-
ing, which, for many hundred years has been ſear-
ching after their true cauſes, has been ſo ſucceſsful
as to diſcover many of them. Theſe cauſes are
taught 63) us in a ſcience, the name of which is
ftill unknown to you. - It is called natural phi.
loſophy, or Phyſicks. This ſcience gives an
account of this remarkable circumliance, 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 inexpreſfible pleaſure. For the
preſent it would be to no purpoſe, to ſpeak of its
becauſe you would not be able, to underſtand what
I ſhould ſay about it.
63) to teach.
181
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 that
ches with regard to firmneſs.
The following days he employed in gathering
as much dry wood, as he thought neceſſary. Then
he dug 64) up his potatoes, of which he got a con-
fiderable quantity. Theſe he laid up in his cellar.
At laſt he ſhook 65) 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 already the end of October. Inſtead of which
it began to rain ,,and rained ſo inceſſantly, as if all
the air had been changed 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 ha-
bitation, except to his cellar, his hay-rick and his
well, to fetch proviſions for himſelf and for his la-
mas. The relt 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 circumſtances! Could any body
have procured him a book, pen, ink and paper, le
would willingly have given a day of his life for a
ſingle ſheet. He would often figh and cry: Oh
what a fool was I in my youth, to think writing
64) to dig. 65) to Shake.
282
and reading ſo tireſome, and idleneſs on the contra-
ry lo agreeable! 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.
It is true, his labour did not ſucceed directly;
he was obliged to make many a * fruitleſs eſlay; but
as he had nothing better to do it was a paſtime for hing,
and ſo he amuſed himſelf with breaking his work to
pieces, when he did not find it quite perfect, and
made it all over again. Thus he palled fome days
in very agreeable occupations, till at lenght 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 lizes, and the
more he worked, the more dexterous he grew 66)
at it.
Meanwhile theſe heavy rains continued. Robin-
son therefore ſaw himſelf obliged, to invent Come
other domeſtic occupations, that he might not feel
66) to grow.
183
the tediouſneſs of time. His next buſineſs was, to
make a net for fiſhing. He had before that time
ſpun 67) a conſiderable deal of pack-thread, which
now was very uſeful to him. Having now time
and patience enough to try this 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 invent-
ed 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.
Then it came into his head, to try, whether ho
ſhonla 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 hábitation, in cae
ſe he ſhould ever be attacked by any favagés. He
was ſo impatient to have his bow finiſhed, that in
ſpite of the rain and wind, he ran out to fetch the
neceſary wood.
Every ſort of wood was not fit for his purpoſe.
He wanted tome, that was hard and tough at the
fame time; ſuch as would bend, and yet fiff enough
to unbend again.
JOHN. That'was elaſtick, I ſuppoſe ?
FATHER. Right! I did not think, you had mind-
67) to ſpin.
184
ed the ſignification of that word, and for that rea.
ſon I would not make uſe of it.
Now after having found and cut this wood, he
carried it home, and ſet about it directly. But alas!
how, ſenfibly did he now feel the want of a proper
knife! He was obliged to make twenty cuts and
more, before he got off ſo much, as we do in one,
with our ſteel - knives. He ſpent 68) eight whole
days' ac this work, tho' he kept 69) cloſe to it all
the time. I know ſome folks, who would not ha.
ve 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, when-
ever I have once begun 70) a thing.
FATHER. You'll do very well; Robinson at leaſt
found it ſo. On the ninth day his bow was finiſh-
ed to his unſpeakable joy, and now he wanted noth-
ing but a firing and arrows. If he had thought of it.
when he killed his lamas, he might have tried whether
it was not doſſible to make ſtrings of their entrails, be-
cauſe he knew, that in Europe they were made of
the entrails of ſheep. For want of which he now
twiſted a cord, as firong as he poſſibly could; and
then proceeded to make arrows.
What would he not have given now for a ſmall
bit of iron, to make points to his arrows! but this
wiſh was in vain. - Whilft he was thus meditating
68) to ſpend. 69) to koep. 70) to begin.
185
at the entrance of his cavern, what to take to ſup-
ply the iron, his eyes accidentally fell on the lump
of gold, which was ſtill lying on the ground as a
contemptible thing. Away, ſaid he, kicking it aſide
thou uſeleſs thing, and become iron, if thou wilt
be eſteemed by me! After which he did not deign
to look at it any more.
Having reflected a long while, he at lenght re-
collected, to have once heard, that the ſavages uſe
the bones of large fiſh, * and ſometimes ſharp ſtones,
to make points for their darts and lances. In this lie
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 filh-bones and ſharp flints, juſt as he wiſhed
them. He then cut down a long ftrait pole for a
lance, and returned home, wet to the ſkin with
rain.
In a few days his lance and arrows were finiſhi.
ed. At the end of his lance he faſtened a pointed
filint and on the one end of his arrows ſharp fiſh-
bones, and on the other feathers, which, as you
know, makes them fly the better.
Now he tried the uſefulneſs 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.
186
Now his pots and his lamp ſeemed ſufficiently
dried, lie therefore proceeded to make uſe of them.
Firſt he put a lump of tallow, which he had taken
from the entrails of 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 ſoon
as it melted, ſoaked through the pipkin, and was
frying out again on the outſide, ſo that but very
Jittle remained in it. From this he concluded, that
his lamp and pots would have the ſame fault, and
conſequently be of little uſe: and fo indeed they
proved.
A very diſagreeable circumſtance this ! He had
been greatly 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 fo! And certaiu folks
would have throw away the whole. But Robin-
son had now pretty well accuſtomed himſelf to“ pa-
tience, and had once for all reſolved to leave no-
thing unliniſhed, where there was the leaſt appea-
rance of bringing it to perfection.
He therefore placed himſelf into his muſing-cor-
ner, (ſo he called a corner of his cavern, where he
uſed to fit, whenever he was contriving any thing)
and rubbed his forehead; „ What may be the rea-
ſon,“ ſaid he toʻ himſelf, that the pots in Europe,
which are alſo made of clay, are ſo much more cod
187
lid, 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 muſt be lo! – Didn't I read once, that
ſeveral matters, as fand and alſo clay are vitreous,
and may by a ſtrong fire, be changed into real glaſs ?"
That mult certainly be the way of it. 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. Ay, ay, ſo it is!
That I muſt imitate
He really did ſo. He made a large fire in his
kitchen, and when it was burning at its height,
he put one of his pipkin into the 'midſt of it. But
a moment after it went – crack! – and the pipkin
broke to pieces. - „Oh dear!« cried Robinson,
s, who could have thought that ?" . .
He therefore returned to his . mufing-corner.
»; What in the name of wonder, “ thought le, ,,may
be the reaſon of that? - Did I ever fee any thing
like it? - Yes,'to be Cure, I did! When in winter
time we placed a glaſs of cold water, or beer, on
a warm . ftove, didn't that likewiſe crack ? - And
when did it not?: — when it was placed on the ſton
ve before it was quite hot. Very well, now I
have it! Ay, ay, it is ſo; the vellel muſt not at on-
ce be put into the heat, but be warmed gradually
- I muſt alſo take care, to give the whole the ſame
degree of heat-" „ This head of mine * is an excel.
188
lent one!“ he cried, jumping up with joy and go-
ing to make a ſecond trial.
This time he ſucceeded much better. The pipkin
didn't burſt, but yet it would not become glazed.
„ And what can be the reaſon ?" thought Robin-
son again. „The fire, I think, was ſtrong enough -
what can there yet be wanting? – “After liaving
for a long while meditated upon the matter, he
thought, he had hit the point at laſt. The experi-
ment 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
reſolution, to leave nothing unhiniſhed, 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 71) He could ſcarce believe his
own eyes, when he ſaw, that the power of animat.
ing ſpring made new graſs, new flowers and bran.
ches grow; and yet it was really ſo.' This ſeemed
incomprehenſible to him; and yet he ſaw it with his
own eyes. „This," cried he, » ſhall for the future
teach me to deny nothing, what I can not conceive!,,
MOTHER, And did he not go to bed, when he
had ſaid ſo ?
71) to paſs.
189
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.
190
E L E V E N
T H
E V E N IN G.
bogood
THEOPHILUS. Father, now I ſhould like, to be
in Robinson's ſituation.
FATHER. Indeed ?
THEOPHILUS. Yes, now that he has all thoſe
things, which he was formerly deftitute of, and li-
ves in a fine country, wliere there is no winter —
- FATHER., Every thing he needs ?
THEOPHILUS. Why, has he not potatoes, meat
and ſalt and lemons, and filh, and turtles, and oya
fiers, and can he not make butter and cheeſe of the
milk he gets from his lamas.
FATHER. All that he has really had for ſome
time already; I only forgot 72) to mention it.
· : THEOPHILUS.' Why, he has alſo a bow, arrows
and a lance, and a good place to live in, and what
can he want more?
FATHER, Robinson knev very well the value
72) to forget.
191
of all this, and thank'd God for it — Nevertheleſs
he would have given half of his future life, if a
Thip had come, to take him back to his native coun-
try.
THEOPHILUS. Yes, that I allow, but what could
he want beſides this?
FATHER. Much, very much! not to ſay every-
thing. He wanted that bleſſing without which there
is no real happineſs 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 ; fingled out from
the enjoyment or company of all mankind - Alas!
what joys could he have in this deplorable, lone-
ſome ſituation, though he had mpofelled the greateſt
abundance of all the earthly bleſlings. 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
having every thing, he might fiill want for the fu-
ture. All his cloathes were worn 73) out in uſelels
rags, and he could not yet foreſee the poſſibility
of making himſelf new ones,
John. Why, I think, he might have done ve-
ry well without in his warm illand, where there
was no winter
75) to Wear.
192
CHARLOTTE, Fie! then he would have been
obliged to go naked.
FATHER. He wanted no cloathes indeed to ſhel-
ter himſelf againſt the inclemency of the weather;
but he wanted them to ſhelter himſelf againſt the in-
ſects, particulary againſt the moſchitos, which were
in great abundance in his iſland.
Nicolas. What are moſchitos ?
FATHER. A kind of fjes, but whoſe fting 'is
much more painful than of thoſe of our country.
They are a great plague to the inhabitants of warm
climates. For their fiing leaves blotches, almoſt as
painful as thoſe of bees and walps. Robinson's face
and hands were continually (welled with them. What
then was he' to ſuffer, when his cloathes ſhould co-
me to be entirely worn out! and that time was ra-
pidly approaching.
This together with his longing after his parents
and human ſociety in general, often made him figh,
whenever he was walking near the ſea - Chore, and
looking 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 fruit-
leſs hopes, when he ſaw a ſmall cloud arifing on
the horizon, which his imagination repreſented to
him as a ſhip, with mafts and fails ; and when he
ſaw himſelf diſappointed in his expectation, how
would the tears trickle down his cheeks, and with
what anguiſh and dejection of heart did he then re-
gurn home!
CHARLOTTE. Oh, he ſhould have addreſled his
193
ſervent 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 de-
liverance from the deſolate iſland, but he never for-
got to add: Yet, oh Lord! not my: will but thine
be done!
CHARLOTTE. Why did he lo ?
· 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 fiill longer, he muſt certainly have good rea-
ſons for doing ſo, 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 lignal on
the ſmall neck of land, by which every ſhip, that
might happen to paſs, could ſee, that there was a
perſon in diſtreſs. This was a poſt, to which lie
fixed a flag.
NICOLAS. 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 therefore took the largeſt piece of it,
and fixed it like a fag to this poft..
Now he would willingly have made an inſcrip-
tion on the poſt to make his diftreſs the better known; .
but how could he do that? - The only method,
(13)
194
in his power, was to engrave the letters with his
ſtone-knife. 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 por-
tugueſe 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 wiſhi.
THEOPHILUS. Why, could the people under-
ſtand that?
FATHER. The latin tongue, you know, has
ſpread through all the countries of Europe, and all
the people, who have had a genteel education, know
at leaſt ſomething of it. Robinson therefore hoped,
that there would be one or other on board of every
ſhip, who underſtood 74) his inſcription; ſo he got
it ready.'
JOAN. And what was it then ?
FATHER, Ferte opem miſero Robinsonio!
Do you underſtand Frederic ?
- FREDERIC. Oh yes, Papa! Help poor Robine
son!
FATHER. Now his moſt preſſing wants were
that of ſhoes and ſtockings, which fell at laſt pieces
meal from his legs and feet, and the moſchitos ata
tacked his bare legs lo terribly, that he did not
know, what to do with himſelf for pain. His face,
hands and feet were fince the rains, during which
theſe inſects had unſpeakably multiplied, ſo ſwelled
74) to underſtana.
195
up by their painful fings, that he did not look like
a human creature..
How often did, he place himſelf in his muſing
corner, in order to invent ſomething by means of
which he could cover and ſcreen himſelf againſt
them! But to no end; he always wanted the proper
inliruments and the neceſſary knowledge' to finiſh
what he wiſhed to make.
The eaſieſt of all the means to cover himſelf
with, appeared the ſkins of the lamas he had killed.
But theſe [kins were raw and ftiff; and unfortuna.
tely', he had never troubled his head with obſerving
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 incellant perſecution of the moſchitos. And
ſo he was abſolutely obliged, to find out ſomething
or other, to prevent his periſhing in the moſt mile-
rable manner.
Dick. To what purpoſe may God Almighty
have created theſe noxious inſects, fince they are
only a plague to us.
FATHER. To what purpoſe do you think, God
Almighty has created you and other men ?
.Dick. Why, I think, that we ſhould be hap-
py in his world!
FATHER. And what, do you think, induced
him to do ſo?
196
· 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 merry, when the ſun ſhines.
FATHER. Well, can not you conceive now,
why God has made tliem? They are to rejoice and
to be happy on this earth, as much as they can,
according to their nature. Is not this deſign very
benevolent and worthy of his goodneſs?
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? .
FATHER. Becauſe we are preciſely the moſt ra-
venous, the moſt deſtructive of all animals ! All other
creatures upon earth are not only our flaves, but
we kill them alſo for our pleaſure; ſometimes for
the ſake of their fleſh, ſometimes 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 noxi-
ous creature, man? What anſwer would you then
give to the fly to this queſtion ?
197
Dick. (at a loſs) Indeed I can not tell.
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, otherwiſe you would ha-
ve found on the leaſt reflection that God, out of
mere goodneſs has fo conſtituted many of his crea-
tures, that one mult live upon the other. For,
had that not been the caſe, he could not have creat-
ed halt ſo many animals, becauſe graſs 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 exceſs and
to the ruin of another, the wiſdom and goodneſs
of God ordered it ſo, that ſome creatures ſhould li-
ve at the expence. of others. - Moreover, your lit-
tle filly 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 lirft dawn of
another everlaſting life: and that for the future, a
great many things will become clear to us, which
we can not as yet comprehend. Who knows, whe-
ther you will not alſo learn, for what purpoſe you
at firſt were nouriſhed by our blood and then de-
voured 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
* 198
of God is doing, and we will give you an example
in this,'
What do you think , Dick, would the fly, if
ſhe was capable of any reaſon, be ſatiſfied with this
anſwer ?
Dick. For my part I am lo!
FATHER. Well, let us go on with our Robin.
son!
Neceſſity forced him, to make the beſt ſhift ho
could. He took his ſkins and cut – to be ſure ,
with a deal of trouble with his ſtone knife,
ſomething that had a reſſemblance of ſhoes and
ſtockings. They were like buſking and laced
on the ſides like (patterdashes : as he could not
few either of them, he was obliged to content
himſelf with making ſmall oilet - holes in them,
in order to tie them faft to his feet, by means
of a twiſted pack - thread. This could indeed not
be done without great inconveniency, for notwith-
ſtanding he turned the rough fide outward, he al-
ways felt a burning heat in ¡is feet, and the ſtiff
hard fide rubbed off his ſkin, when he took ever 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 ve-
ry ftiff 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 defift untill he had made himſelf alſo a Jacket
and a pair of breeches, all of lamas ſkins. This ina
199
deed coſt him ftill 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 appli-
cation ? - 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 pieces, laced together on
the outſide. Theſe cloathes he put on, as ſoon as
they were finiſhed with the reſolution, never 'to
wear his european clothes again, except on folemn,
holy-days, and on the birth - days of his parents
which he celebrated as holy-days.
He had now thë moft fingular appearance in the
world. From head to foot he was wrapped up in
rough ſkins. On one fide he wore 75) a large fto-
ne hatchet, on his back a great pouch, a bow and a
bundle of arrows. In his right hand he held 76) a
lance, that was as long again as himſelf; in his left
he held an umbrella, made of cocoa - leaves and in-
ſtead of a hat he wore a peaked baſket, likewife co-
vered with a rough ſkin. Only think, how comi-
cal he muſt have looked in this gárb! None, who
liad accidentally ſeen him, wonld have 'taken him
for a human creature. He alſo could not but ſmile
when he firft ſaw himſelf in a rivulet.
Now he recommenced his potter's work. He
ſoon finiſh'd his furnace, and then he tried, whe-
ther le could not glaze his pots in a very briſk and
75) to wear. 76) to hold.
200
ſtrong fire. He therefore put all his pots and pip-
kins into the furnace, after which he made by de-
grees 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
curious to ſee the reſult of it. But when he drew
77) out the firſt pot, he found to his great ſurprize,
that notwithſtanding all his trouble, it was not glaze
ed at all, nor was the ſecond, and ſo on with the
reft. But at laſt, conſidering one of the pipkins,
he perceived with as much joy as aſtoniſhment, that
it was very well glazed at the bottom.
Now his head was puzzled. What in the name
of wonder, thought he, may be the reaſon, that
this ſingle pipkin only is glazed a little, and not
one of the reft, and yet they are all made of the
ſame clay and burnt in the ſame oven. – Ile mouſed
a long while, but could not find the ſmalleſt parti-
cle that could give him any light into the matter.
At laſt he recollected, that there had been ſome
ſalt in this pipkin, before he had put it into the
furnace. He therefore could not but think, that falt
was the only cauſe of the glazing.
John. Was the ſalt then really the cauſe of it?
FATHER. Yes, what Robinson here diſcovered
by chance, was long ſince known in Europe. Salt
is the true cauſe, by which many things are turned
into glaſs by the fire. Had he only rubbed over the
pots with ſalt water, or flung 78) a certain quanti-
77) to draw. 78) to Ning.
201
ty of ſalt into the red-hot furnace, all his pots would
have been glazed by it.
The next day he went to make the experiment.
The fire in his furnace was alteady burning; he rub-
bed over (one of the veſels with Calt-water, and
put ſome dry falt in others, to make both experi-
ments at the ſame time: when in the midſt of his
labour, he was compelled 10. ceaſe by ſomething,
which he had feared a long while, by. – a lit of
fickneſs.
.
.
He found himſelf very qualmiſh, he was ſeized
with a violent head-ach, and felt a great wearineſs
in all his limbs. And now the moli dreadful fitna-
tion, that can ever befall a man, awaited him.
„Good God!" ſaid he to himſelf, „what will
become of me, wlien I ſhall be no more able to get
up? When there is no compaſſionate hand, to relic-
ve me in my difireſs ? No friend to wipe away my
deadly ſweat, or to reach me any refreſhment? –
Good God, what will become of me ? “
Quite. oppreſled with anguiſh, he fell down on
the ground, at theſe words.
If ever he needed firm and filial conlidence in
God, the omnipotent aud loving father, it was at
this criſis deprived of all human alliliance, deprived
of his own ſirength! What remained to preſerve him
from periſhing in his miſery ? 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
202
his looks to lieaven. Oh Lord, Lord! mercy — was
all he could utter from time to time with a liglie:
But his anxiety left him no reſpite; he ſummou-
ed up his laft efforts to ſet, if poſſible, the moſt ne.
ceſſary things for his refreſhment within the reach
of his bed, that he might not be quite without them,
in cafe his illneſs ſhould diſable him from getting
up. With great difficulty he got a couple of cocoa-
nut-ſhells with water, and placed them near hini.
He added forne roaſted potatoes and four lemons to
it and then funk 79) down quite exhauſted. .
If God Almighty had now been pleaſed, to call
him away from the world by a ſudden death, how
gladly would lio have died! He ventured to pray
God to do ſo ;' but ſoon after he recollected, that his
prayer was not reaſonable. „Am I not à child of
God ? " ſaid he to himſelf, „am I not his creature ;
and is he not my kind, my wiſe and powerful fa-
thier ? How then dare I preſcribe to him what he
ſhould do with me? Does he not know beſt, what
is good for me? And will he not do with me, as
he thinks moſt conducive to my happineſs? Yes, yes,
that my bountiful and powerful father certainly
will! Therefore be thou filent, my poor oppreſled
heart! 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 1.5
At theſe words he took courage again, and rai.
fing himſelf upon his knees, he thus pray'd to God
79) to fink
203
+
with the greateſt fervor of hearth: „ I give myſelf up
to thee, oh my father! I give myſelf up to thy pa-
ternal guidance! Do with me according to thy mer.
cy. I will without murmuring ſuffer, whatever thou
haft decreed; ảnd thou wilt grant me firength to
bear it. Oh grant me firength 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 fake!" -
Now a violent agne ſeized him: and tho' he had
covered himfélf all over with lamas ſkins, yet he
could not grow warm. This cold fit lafied aboiit
two hours, when it changed into a hot one, which
like a birrning fire run thro' all his veins, His breaſt
heaved up and down, by the violent beating of liis
arteries, like the breaſt of a man, who is quite out of
breath with running. In this dreadful ſituation, le
had ſcarce power enough left, to lift the cocoa-nuts
ſhell with water to his mouth, to cool his burning
tongue.
At laſt a dropping ſweat broke out, which pro-
cured him ſome relief. When he had been about
an hour in this condition, he recover'd his ſpirits à
little. It was then, the thought firuck 80) him, that
his fire might go out, if he did not put on freſh
wood. He therefore, notwithſtanding his weakneſs,
crept 81) on all fours, to his fire- hearth, and put
on ſuch a quantity of wood, as would be neceffary
Sa) to ſtrike. 81). to creep,
204
to keep np the fire till the next morning; for it was
now already night.
This night was the molti grievous, he ever paſ-
ed. Cold and hot fits ſucceeded each other, without
intermillion. The moſt violent headach 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 fickneſs encreaſed; he again
tried to creep to his fire and to help limſelf to wa.
ter;. but this time it was impoffible; ſo he was oblig-
ed to give it up, and the certain hopes, that it would
ſoon be, over with him, made it a matter of indif-
ference to him,
This night palled in the ſame manner as the fore.
going. The fire was in the mean time. burnt 82)
out; the remaining water in the cocoa - nut-ſhell be-
gan to grow putrid; and Robinson was become me
able, to turn himſelf on his couclı. He thought,
he perceived the approach of death, and the joy he
ſelt at it, firengthened him ſo much, that he was
able, to prepare himſelf for his laſt journey with
devotion.
He once more prayed humbly to God, that he
might graciously pardon all his ſins. Then he thank-
ed 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 amend-
mont, all which he, now more than ever, perceiv.
82) to burn.
205
ed to have been for his good. Finally he prayed
God, to comfort and fbleſs his offended but dearly
beloved parents'; then he recommended his immortal
foul to the eternal and paternal love of his maker --
Then ſtretched himſelf out, and expected death with
joyful hopes.
.' Death ſeemed to approach with hally ftrides.
His agonies encreaſed; his brealt began to boil, and
he breathed with great difficulty. Now, now! the
laft and wiſhed for moment ſeemed to appear ! And
agony, ſuch as he had never felt before, ſeized his
heart, his reſpiration ſtopt 83) ſhort; he fell into
convulſions, his liead dropt 84) on his ſhoulder,
and all conſciouſneſs of exiſtence left him.
Here all were flent for ſome time and how
noured the 'memory of their friend, tho' they had
never ſeen him by ſympathy. – Poor Robinson !
faid fome Gghing; God be praiſed ! ſaid others, that
he is now delivered from all his ſufferings ! – And
thus the company parted that evening more tranquil
and penſive than ordinarily
85) to ſtop. 84) to drop.
206
T W E L F TH E V E N IN G.
777
» V Vhat do you intend telling us now, dear Papa ?!
Said Charlotte, when they were again aſſembled una
der the apple- tree: becauſe they underſtood by the
father's looks, that he had ſome hiſiory prepared for
them. (The whole company-had in the interim ta-
ken inſtructions in baſket making, in which work
they were now employed.)
„Something relative to Robinson! replied the
father, which made the company ftare..
CHARLOTTE. Why, I thought he was dead! .
JOHN. Silence Charlotte, perhaps he has reviv.
ed again; don't you remember we ſuppoſed him
dead once before and nevertheleſs he was living.
Father. Robinson fell into convulſions, as I
told 85) you laſt; his head lank on his ſhoulders and
he loft 86) all conſciouſneſs of his exiſtence. Whe-
85) to tell, 86) to loſe.
207
ther he was in reality dead, or only fallen 87) into
a ſwoon, was not yet decided. . . .
· He lay a good while in a ſtate of entire inſen-
ſibility. 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 figh he began to breathe
again, as uſual. When he open'd his eyes and look'd
round him, as if he would ſee, 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 ſenh-
bly grieved, becauſe death now ſeemed more eligi.
ble to him than life.
He felt himſelf extremely weak, but without
much pain. Inftead of a dry burning heat, which
he had felt before, a ſtrong alleviatiug [weat 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 Gtuation, when
he began, to feel a moſt ſenſible relief.
But he now had a moſt intolerable thirft. 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 luck'd out the juice, by
which he was ſenſibly refreſhed. During this transa
piration he fell into a ſweet, ſlumber, which conti:
nued till ſun-riſe..
His heart was now much more at reft, than the
87) to fall.
208
day before. The violence of his illneſs had viſibly
abated; and now he felt nothing but weakneſs. He
even perceived ſome appetite again, and ate 88) one
of the roalied potatoes, on which he 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
fight for him, to ſee them lying at his feet, whilft
ſome of them were fiaring at him, as if they would
aſk him, if he was not ſomething better. Theſe
animals can paſs many days without drinking, 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.
Now the old ſhe lama coming within his reach,
he got hold of her, and uſed all his efforts, in draw-
ing ſome milk from her, that ſhe might not loſe it.
This freſh milk was certainly very wholeſome for
his fick body, for it refreſhed 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-jui.
ce, and compoſed himſelf to ſleep again.
This uninterrupted refreſhing ſleep and the good-
neſs of 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.
88) to eat.
209
U
He fiagger'd out of his cave into his yard. Here
he lifted his eyes up to heaven; a kindly refreſhing
beam of the morning ſun ſhot 89) throw the trees
on his countenarice, and he became as new born.
„O thou eternal Cource of life! cried he, falling
on his knees; God! my God! Accept of my thanks
for having let me once more fee thy beautiful ſun,
and in his light the wonders of thy creation! My
thauks for not having forſaken me in my diftreſs; for
having recalled 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 deltination, where we
ſhall receive the reward of our good and bad ac-
tions!“
After this ſhort but hearty prayer, his eyes were
delighted with the light of the vaſt blue vault of
heaven, and with the trees and ſhrubs, that food
before him, adorned with freſh verdure and pearled
over with dew; then again with his lamas, that ca-
me joyfully fondling about him. He ſeened as jult
returned home from a long journey; his heart over-
whelmed 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.
89) to ſhoot
1
210
His firſt buſineſs was, to examine, what became
of his pots. · He open'd the oven, and lo! all his
veſſels were ſo well glazed, as if they had been ma-
de by a potter. In the lieight 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 dejected, lirft look-
ing at his pots and pipkins, then again at the fire-
hearth in hỉs kitchen heaving a figh.
But his grief did not exceed the bounds of mo-
deration this time. He thought, the ſame kind pro-
vidence, who lately gave him fire, could give it
him again a ſecond time in the ſame or in another
manner, whenever the pleaſed. Now he knew mo-
reover, that he had no winter to apprehend here;
and though he was from his youth accuſtomed to
eat meat; yet he hoped, he fbould be able, to do
without it and live only on fruits and the milk of
his lamas.
; CHARLOTTE. "Why! he might have ate (moked
meat; that needs not be boiled firft!
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?
TATHER. "He thought, his potatoes would tafie
better, if he could eat ſome butter with them.
. 211
THEOPHILUS. I dare ſay.
· FATHER. But it was impoffible 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
fiick. With this inftrument he 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 falt.
He had thus accompliſhed, what he intended;
but when he was going, to enjoy the fruits of his
indufiry, he recollected, that he could roaft no mo-
re potatoes, becauſe he had no fire, which he had
again forgot in the heat of his occupation. There
was now the fine butter ready, which could not
be eaten, and Robinson fiood bye it with a forrow-
ful countenance. Now he found himſelf at once in
his former diſmal ſituation. Oyſters, milk, cocoa-
nuts and raw felh were again his only means of
fubfifiance, and it was a queſtion, 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 liands, was already done. He there-
*fore ſeemed to have nothing more to do, chan 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 uſeful
213
buſineſs and he would ſay afterwards, that he owed
the amendment of his heart to the continual occupa-
tion he was forced to by the helpleſs condition of
his folitary abode. Induſtry, he uſed to add, indu-
firy, good folks, is the niother of many virtues ;
juſt as 'lazineſs is the beginning of many vices !
Join. Ah, there he was certainly right! when
one has nothing to do, one thinks of nothing but
nonſenſe !
. FATHER. To be ſure! he therefore adviſed young
people afterwards, by all means to accufiom them-
ſelves to an active life, from their very childhood.
For, ſaid he, as we uſe ourſelves when young, ſo
we generally remain for life, lazy or diligent, clever
or ignorant, good or bad. .
NICOLAS. That we will obſerve !
FATHER. Do fo, good children, and act accor-
dingly : you will not repent of it. Our Robinson
conſidered a long while, what kind of work he
ſhould undertake, to prevent being idle; and what
do you think, he reſolved upon at laſt ?
JOHN. I know, what I ſhould have done.
FATHEA. Well, wliac then ?
| John. I would have dreſled 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 have ſet about
it ?
John. Oh I know, how tanners do: we have
ſeen it!
213
FATHER. And how pray?
John. They firſt ſteep the raw hides in water
for ſome days; then they carry them toʻthe ſhaving beam
and clean them with the Chaving-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 birchen
and oaken bark and leven. At laſt they put the ſkins
into the tan - pit and pour a liquor over them, that
is alſo made of oaken bark, in which they remain',
till they are quite done,
FATHER. Very well, John; but do you ftill
recollect, what kind, of leather that is, which the
tanner's thus prepare ?
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 of 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 ca-
ſe; he had never ſeen any tanners or ſkinners at their
work, and therefore he could not imitate either of
them.
214
Dick. And how is the ſkinners work perfor:
med. ?
FATHER. The beginning is the ſame as the tan-
ners, 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
alhes. We will ſhortly go and ſee their work. .
John. Suppoſe Robinson had known, how the
Skinners dreſs their ſkins, he could not have imitat-
ed tliem, for want of bran or loven.
FATHER. Do you ſee? He therefore could not
attempt it.
NicoLAs. Well, and what did he then.
FATHER. Day and night his head was filled
with ſchemes of conſtructing a kind of ſmall boat,
if poffible.
John. And what would he do with a boat?
FATHEP. Do with it ? try, if he could not get
out of his ſolitude, 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 Ame-
rica was not far off; and he was determined, if he
had but a ſmall boat,. to brave all dangers and
make tlie continent, if poſſible. i
Full of theſe thoughts he went go).out one day,
to look for a tree, which he might ſcoop out in
the form of a (mall boat. Palfing with this intention
thro' ſeveral parts of the iſland, where he had not
been hitherto, he diſcovered divers kinds of plants,
go) to go. .
215
that were unknown to him, with which he reſolve
ed to make différent experiments, to find out, whe-
ther they would not ſerve for his ſuſtenance ?
Among the reſt he found ſome fialks of indian
corn or maize. ..
NICOLAS. Ah! of that, which I have in my
garden?
FATHER. The ſame ! He admired the large ear's,
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 more-
over 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 con-
tain'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.
NICOLAS. Ah! now he may drink chocolate for
the future!
FATHER. Not yet a while! for in the firſt place
he does not know, what it is; and then the beans
216
muſt firſt be roaſted at the fire, pounded and mixed
with ſugar; and we know, he has neither fire nor
ſugar, to which many kinds of ſpices are generally
added, as cardamomum, vanilla 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 eatable and of a very pleaſant ta-
lie. The tree was of a quite different ſpecies than
a cocoa- nut-tree; it did not, like this, confift only
of a ftem, terminating in a crown of large 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 fide of the trunk of this large, tree was
grown a little hollow with age. He therefore con-
ceived the thought, that it would ſerve him, to
make a boat, if he could only find means to hev
it down and hollow it entirely.
Buţ ſhould he ſpoil ſo uſeful a tree, in the un-
certainly, 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. How-
ever he marked the ſpot, where the trec ftood and
went home undetermined.
217
On his return; he found what he had long wilh.
ed for, a 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 91).
He was ſatiſfied with having got one, and hurried
home with great joy.
Dick, : Of what great advantage could a parrot
be to him then?
FATHER, . He intended to teach him to pronoun,
ce ſome words, that he might have the pleaſure of
hearing a human like voice again. That pleaſure
does not indeed ſeem ſo very great to us, who live
in human ſociety, who ſee and hear men, who
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 infige
nificant trifle to us, was in reality a great encreaſe
of happineſs for him..
He therefore haften'd joyfully home, conſtructa
ed a cage, as well as he could, put his new friend
in it, placed it near his couch and laid himſelf to
reſt.
92) to catch,
218
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 then 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 Ro-
binson's brains the whole night, and did not per-
mit him to cloſe his eyes.
ALL. Well, what was it ?
FATHER. The queltion was, whether he ſhould
cut down the old bread-tree, which he diſcovered
yeſterday, in the uncertainly of making a boat of.
it, or whether he ſhould let it fiand ?
John. I ſhould have ſpared it.
DICK. And I would have cut it down.
FATHER, There are two different opinions; ono
219
for having the tree cut down, the other for letting
it ſtand. Now let us hear, what the reſt will lay?
THEOPHILUS, I am of John's opinion. "
CHARLOTTE. I allo, dear Papa! The tree ſhall
remain.
. ,
FREDERIC. No, it ſhall be cut down, that
poor Robinson may get a boat. I
NICOLAS. I ſay ſo too! ..
FATHER. Now divide yourſelves in two par-
ties; and then we will hear, wliat 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 lit-
tle hollow; and how many hollow trees are there,
that bear fruit many years.
NICOLAS. Robinson needs only graft a great
'many young twigs of this tree: and he'll 92) get
bread-trees enough.
THEOPHILUŚ. Yes, but do they grow big di-
rectly? 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
92) i. e. he will
220
i
2
ſoon! with what muft he cut down the tree and
fcoop it? - with a ſtone - hatchet! .
Dick, Oh, if he only perfifts for ſome time
and does not grow weary of it, he may at length
briug it about.
• THEOPHILUS. But then he has no fail! And
What can he do with the bare boat?
NICOLAS. He muſt make a ſhift with oars!
CHARLOTTE, Ay, that will do finely! Have you
forgotten 93), when we were near Travemunde on
the Baltio, *) when one of the ſailors broke 94) his
oar, in what danger we were ? Why Papa ſaid,
that, if the broken oar had been quite uſeleſs, the
other ſailor alone could not have rowed us on fho-
re again, '.
· Dick. Oh that was a large boat, and eighteen
perſons in 'it, If Kobinson makes a ſmall boat with
two oars, he will be able to row it himſelf.
FATHER. Now, my children, you ſee the mat-
ter is not ſo very eaſily determined. All you have
now ſaid, employed' Robinson's lead the whole
night; and that is called reflecting, when one is ex-
amining 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,
never to do any thing again, without firft having
98) to forgot, 942 to break,
.
*) The little conipany had been favour'd with that
promiſed pleafure ſome time ago,
221
conſidered the matter maturely; which lie likewiſe
did now. After having reflected long enough on it,
he found, that all depended on the following queft-
ion: 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 res
minded him of the fable of the dog, that dropt 95)
the piece of meat, he had in his mouth to ſnatch at
the ſhadow of it in the water, and ſo had nothing.
Soon after he alſo recollected, that farmers low out
part of the corn, which they already, poſleſs, in ho-
pes of getting much more by that means. The pro-
ceeding 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 reficcted on it a little while, and then he
ſaid to himſelf: „Yes, yes, ſo it is! The dog acted
unreaſonably, becauſe he only follow'd his greedi-
neſs, without conſidering, whether it was poſſible
for him to get, what he wiſhed for. But the hus-
band- man acts reaſonably, becauſe he may with great
probability hope, to reap more corn, than he hās
ſown.“ 96)
„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
25) to drop. 96) to fový.
222
ſeized his ſoul with ſuch vigour, that he jumped
up directly, took his hatchet, and ran 97) 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 this place would have dropt the matter
after the firſt ſtroke or two', and thought it an im-
poſtìbility. But Robinson had made it a rule, not
10 be deterred by any difficulty from any reaſonable
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 ſun-
riſe till about noon, the hole which he had made
in the tree, by more than a thouſand firokes, was
not yet fo big, that he could put his liand in it.
From thence you may conclude 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 neceílary
to make a proper 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 10-
thing advances and lightens our labour more, than or.
der and regular diviſion of the hours. I will give
you an account, by which you may fee, how he
employ'd every hour.
At day-break he got up, and ran to the ſpring,
to waſh his head, hands, breaſt and feet. As he
97) to run.
203
had 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. Tlien he dreſſed
himſelf entirely. That done, 'he aſcended the hill
above his cave, wliere he had a free proſpect; there
he kneeled down and ſaid his morning prayer with
much devotion, never forgetting to beg God to
bleſs his dear parents. Upon which he milked his
lamas, of which he had by degrees rear'd a ſmall
ſtock. Part of the milk le placed in his cellar, and
Weakfafted on the reſt. He einployed about an hour
in doing this. Then he took all his accoutrements,
and fallied forth either directly to the tree, or if it
was low water, to the ſea-ſhore, to gather ſome
oyſters for his dinner. All his lamas generally fol-
lowed him, and grazed about him, whilft he was
working 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 ſea - Chore, either to gather oyliers,
in caſe he had found none in the morning, or to
bathe himſelf, which he uſually did twice a day.
Towards eleven he returned home with his whole
retinue. .
Then he milked his lamas again; made cheeſe
of the four milk and prepared his dinner, which
moſt commonly confifted of milk and freſh curds,
ſome oyliers and half a cocoa - nut. It was very
happy that people in theſe hot countries have not
halfsſo much appetite as in colder climates. Never-
theleſs he greatly longed for ſome meat, and ac laft
224
he could not forbear trying his old way of beating
the meat, to make it tender. . .
. At dinner lie amuſed himſelf with his parrot,
and talked to him, in order to teach him, to pro-
nounce ſome words.
FREDERIC. And what did he feed him wiil ?
FATHER. Wild parrots generally feed upon co-
coa - nuts, acorns and the ſeeds of pumpkins: when
tame they eat almoſt every thing, that men do. Ro-
binson fed g8) his with cocoa- nuts and cheeſe.
. After dinner he generally laid himſelf an hoor
in the ſhade, or in his cave, with his parrot and
lamas about him. There he used to fit ſome times
and talk to his animals, juli as little children, who
talk to their dolls, and imagine, the doll underſtands
them. So much did his mind want to communicate
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 intelligible word after hin: Oh, who was
happier than he! He imagined, he heard a human
voice; forgot his iſland, lamas, parrot and thought hin-
ſelf in the midſt of Europe. But this agreeable illuza
lion generally laſted but a minute; tlren he ſat 99)
again entirely conſcious of his deplorable ſolitary
life, fighing; poor Robinson!.
About two o'clock in the afternoon -
NICOLAS. Ay, but how did he know then,
what o'clock it was ?
"Father. He obſerved the very ſame clock, that
93) to Nead. 99) to fita
225
is obſerved by the country. people with us; the
Sun, and thence he ju.i ed, what time of day it
was.
About two o'clock in the afternoon he uſed to
return to his ſhip - builder's work. In this very
hard labour he again employed two full hours. Af-
ter 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; fome-
times he grafted bread - trees; then again he watered
the young grafted trees; ſometimes he planted hed-
ges to encloſe his garden ground; and at other times
he pruned the hedge before his cave, to make the
branches grow ſo as to form a large bower in time.
: To Robinson's grief the longeſt day in his iſland
was but thirteen hours, ſo, that it began to grow
dark aboạt ſeven o'clock in the evening. He was
therefore compelled, to do all the buſineſs, that re-
quired day - light before that time.'
Towards fix o'clock, when he had nothing elſe
to do, he palled ſometime 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 againlt the at-
tacks of layages. He acquired ſuch dexterity by de-
grees in both theſe exerciſes, that he ſeldom miſſed
a mark no bigger than half a crown.
In the dulk of the evening he milked his lamas
(15)
226
for the laſt time, and took his rural and frugal ſupa
per by the light of the moon or the ſtars.
The laſt hour in the evening he employ'd in re-
flecting on himſelf. Then he either aſcended the
hilly, where the vault of the ſky adorned with in-
numerable liars was over him, or he walked in the
cool of the evening towards the ſea - Chore. Then
he would propoſe the following queſtions to himſelf:
„How have I ſpent 100) this day? Have I re-
member'd the great giver of all things in the enjoya
ment of his gifts, which he lias mofi bountifully
beſtow'd on me this day? Has my hícart felt any
love and gratitude towards him? Have I confided,
in him, when it went ill with me, and have I not
forgotten him, when I was joyful? Have I ſuppreſt
every ill thought and every evil inclination as ſoon
as they aroſe in me? And have I made any real pro-
greſs in goodneſs to days
Now every time he could anſwer theſe and the like
queſtions to himſelf with a joyful affirmation: oh
how happy he was! And with what fervency did
he then fing 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
loft, 1) on which he liad thought or done any thing,
which he was obliged to diſapprove in the evening.
Now he marked every notch of ſuch days on his
calendar - tree with a croſs, to put him in mind of
100) to ſpend. 1) to loſe.
227
his wrongs at tlie fight 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 imitate him in that point. Like him,
fix an hour in the evening, to reflect on your con-
duct during the day; and if you find, that you have
thoight, ſpoke, or done any thing, what you can
not approve of before God and your own conſcièn-
ce: 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 ſatiſfied and happier. ..
Now the father roſe; and each of them betook
himſelf to a particular walk in the garden, -in order
to put his good advice. in execution immediately,
228
FOURTEENTH E V ENING.
N ow, my children, - continued the fatlier the
next evening, , - 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 periode of time he continued his ſhip-builder's
work with the utmoſt diligence; and how forward
do you think, he brought it? - Alas! the tree was
not yet half ſcoop'd out, and it ſtill ſeem'd very
doubtfoul whether he ſhould be able, with all his
induliry, to finilli 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' fo 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 timidity from
! 229
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 2) ſo ſtrong in his mind,
that he immediately determined, to begin his jour-
ney the next morning at break of day'.
NICOLAS. And how extenſive might his iſland
be? .
. i
FATHER. About as large as the territories of
Hambourgh, the bailiwick of Rizzebuttel included
about four german miles long and twelve in circum-
ference.
On the very fame day he prepared every thing
for his departure. The next morning he loaded one
of his lamas with proviſions for four days, took all
his accoutrements, recommended himſelf to the divine
protection, and ſet out with confidence. His inten-
tion was to keep as near the ſea - ſhore as poffible,
becauſe he did not yet like to venture into thick
woods for fear of wild beaſts. .
He met 3) with nothing remarkable the firſt day
of his journey. He made about three german miles,
and the further he proceeded, the more he was con-
vinced, that he had choſen 4) his habitation in the
worſt part of the iſland. In many places he diſco-
vered 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
reft there was a papermulberry tree, of the bark of
2) to grow 3) to meet. 4) to chuſe.
230
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 breaking 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. Whilft he was going to the
furtheſt point of the land, he ſtopt 5) ſhort in one
place, as if he had been thunder ſtruck; 6) he grew
as pale as aſhes and his whole frame trembled.,
John. Why ſo ? . .
FATHER. He ſaw ſomething, he did not expect
to ſee, – the prints of ſeveral human feet in the
ſand.
Nicolas. And that terrified him ſo much? why,
he'ought to be glad of that!
FATHER. The reaſon of his terror was this: in
that moment he figured to himſelf the man, the prints
of whole feet he ſaw, not as a brotherly affectionate
being, ready to help and ſerve him wherever he
could: bat as a cruel hoftile creature, that would
attack him with rage, that would kill and devour
him. In a word: he did not ſuppoſe a civilized eu-
ropean at the fight of theſe prints but one of the ſa-
vagə Cannibals, who at that time, you know, were
ſaid to inhabit the Carribbee-iſlands.
6) to ſtop. 6) to ſtrike..
23,
THEOPHILUS. Yes, I dare ſay: no wonder, he
was ſo terrified.
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, as to loſe preſence of mind. And
thats my dear children, we can all compaſs, if 'we.
do but betimes endeavour, to acquire ſtrength of
body and mind.
John. Ay, but how is that to be attained ?
FATHER. By hardening our body, dear John,
as much as poflible by an indufirious, temperate and
natural way of life, and by endeavouring, to raiſe
our minds above every viciffitude of fortune, by un-,
polluted virtue and piety, and by arming ourſelves
before-hand againſt every miſfortune. Thus if you
learn, after our example, to be ſatiſfied with the
moderate enjoyment of wholeſome, and plain victu-
als, and to deſpiſe the ſweet. poiſon of delicacies
more and more; by ſhunning idleneſs as the corrup-
ter of the ſoul and body, and buſy yourſelves as
much as poſſible with occupations of the mind -
by learning and reflecting 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 aſliſtance of other men, as much as pof-
232
fible; ſatiſfy your own wants by thë ftrength of
your own body and the power of your underfiand.
ing, and extricate yourſelves from difficulties; in
fine gif you endeavour during your whole life - time
to preſerve that valuable treaſure, a good conſcience,
and by theſe means ſecure to yourſelves the appro-
bation and love of our almighty, our bountiful hea-
venly Father : then, my dear children, you will
grow ſound and firong, both in body and ſoul; then
you will remain unconcerned in every, viciſſitude of
fortune, becauſe you are then firmly convinced, that
nothing can happen to you, but what is ſent 7) you,
for your good, by our wiſe and moft bountiful
God. –
Our Robinson, you ſee, was not yet come ſo
far in that firmneſs of mind, founded upon piety,
as was requiſite, to make hiin eaſy and happy. The
cauſe of which was undoubtedly, his having, for
ſome years paft, led •8) a life free from all dangers
and ill accidents. For, my childern, - obſerve this
important truth! – too much eaſe and ſecurity ſpoil
man, render him effeminate and timorous and gene-
rally vicious; and it is therefore a true blelling of
God, to ſend us from time to time ſome adverlity,
to put the powers of our body and mind into acti-
vity and firengthen our courage by exerciſe.
Robinson ftood 9), as I told you, firuck with
confuſion. at the light of theſe prints of human feet
in the ſand. He looked fearfully around him, li-
fiened with great anxiety to the leaſi ruſtling of the
7) to ſend. 8) to lead. 9) to ſtand.
253
leaves, and, in his confufion, 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 fiart, and changed his fears into horror
and diſmay.
He perceived – prepare yourſelves, my chil.
dren, for the moſt chocking ſpectacle, and to ſee the
horrible condition, into which men may fall, who
grow up without any education and inſtruction, and
are left to themſelves ! – He perceived a ſpace like
a circle, 'in the midft of which there had been a
fire. My blood runs cold to te!l it you: there lay
ſcattered about ſculls, hands, feet and other parts
of human bodies, the fleſh of which had been guaw.
ed fF.
ALL. By whom? –
FATHER. By men, but no, only by ſuch crea-
tures, as have the mere Chape of men, who, grown
up liupid and brutiſh, like wild beaſis, had neither
averſion nor humanity, to detain them from butche-
ring their brothers and devouring their feſh. At
that time – (I have told 20) it you once before if
I be not miſtaken,) the Caribbee iſlands were inha-
bited by lavages, called Carribees, canibals, or men-
earers, becauſe they had the horrible cuſtom of kil-
ling all thoſe of their enemies, whom they took
priſoners in war, to roaſt, and afterwards devour
them with great avidity in finging and dancing.
10) to tell.
234
1
CHARLOTTE. Fie! what deteſtable creatures !
FATHER. Their inhuman, manners, my dear
Charlotte, we will deteft, but not the poor people
themſelves, who cannot help their not being pro-
perly inſtructed and educated. Had you been ſo un-
fortunate , as to have been born among ſuch ſavages:
you would certainly rove about the woods like them
and be as naked, wild and unreaſonabl, 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 country - inen, as
you now do in our better meals. Rejoice therefore,
my dear children, and thank God, that you are born
of civilized , hunane 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 liate of favage 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. fiill ſo ſavage and
barbarous, as to eat human 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,
235
He turned away his face from this loathſome fpecta-
cle, he grew fick, and would have fainted, if ia-
ture had not been eaſed by his vomiting very co-
piouſly.
As ſoon as he had ſomewhat recovered himſelf,
he ran away with the utmoſt precipitation. His
faithful lama could ſcarcely follow him. Neverthe-
leſs it did. But fear had ſo much confuſed our poor
Robinson's underſtanding, that in his flight he for-
got the beaſt that followed him, whoſe fieps le mis-
took 11)' for thoſe of ſome canibal purſuing him,
and in the great anxiety of his mind, exerted all
his firength in order, to eſcape him. This was not
enough; even his accoutrements, his lance, his bow
and his fione-hatchet, which he ought to have eftee-
med above all things, all this he flung 12) away,
becauſe they impeded him in his flight. In all this
he ſo little minded his way, that he ſometimes turn-
ed one way and ſometimes another, and thus pot
knowing 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 pla-
ce, which he had ſeen before, but thought, it'was
another monument of the inhuman barbarity of tho-
le, he fled 13) · from. Thus he ran away as ſwift
as his legs could carry him, and did not ceaſe run-
11) to miſtake, 12) to fling. 13) to fly.
236
ning, 'till he dropped down, quite ſpent and faint
with fatigue.
Whilft he was lying in this manner, quite ſen-
ſeleſs, his lama returned to him and lay down at
his feet. Now this happened, to be the very fanie
place, where he had fung 14) away his accoutre-
ments. Upon opening his eyes ſometime after, lie
found all his things lying on the graſs by him. This
and all what heppened to him before, ſeened a
dream to him; he did not know where he was hin-
ſelf, 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 pal-
fion having in the mean time fubfided he was more
careful, to preſerve his accoutrements, the only means
of defence, he had now in his poſeſſion, and took
them along with him. But he found himſelf fo in-
feebled, that it was impoſſible for him to continue
running as faſt as he had done 15) before, though
his fear urged him on as much as ever. He felt no
hunger 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
impoſſible. At night-fall he found himſelf more than
half an hour's walk from his dwelling, at a place,
which he uſed to call his ſummer palace, which con-
fifted of a bower and a pretty large incloſure, where
he kept 16) part of his flock, becauſe the graſs was
much better there, than near his habitation. He had
for fome years ſpent ſeveral nights at this place dur-
14) to fling. 15) to do. 16) to keep.
237
ing the ſummer - ſeaſon; becauſe there were ſewer
moſchitos; and for that reaſon he called this arbour
by that name.
His ftrength was quite exhauſted, and it was
impoſſible for him to go any farther, however dan-
gerous it might appear to him to ſleep in an open
bower He therefore determined, to ſtay there. But
he had ſcarce laid himſelf down on the ground, qui-
te 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 be ſuffer!
NICOLAS. Pray, what was it?
FATHER. He heard a voice as from heaven cal-
ling to him quite diſtinctly: Robinson poor Ro.
binson, where have you been? how came
you hither ?
THEOPHILUS. Bleſs me! What could that be?
FATHER. Robinson ſtarted up in the utmoſt
confuſion, trembling like an aſpen leaf and not know-
ing, 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 pro-
ceeded, he ſaw – what do you think?
ALL. Ah, who can know that!
FATHER. - He ſaw, what the fearful would ge-
nerally find, if they would only take time to exa-
mine things, - that he had no reaſon at all to be
friglitened. For the voice came not from heaven,
but from a branch of his arbour, upon wlich his
dear parrot was ſitting.
238
All, Ah!
FATHER. Time had probably ſeemed long to
him at home, and as he had ſome times accompa-
nied his maſter to his arbour, he came hither to
look for him. But Robinson had taught 17) him
theſe words, which the pronounced ſeveral times,
and thus he had retained them. .
How happy was Robinson, to have diſcovered
the cauſe of this new terror! He reached out his
hamil, calling, Poll! and the familiar merry thing
preſently came 18) down perched upon his thumb, laid
his bill cloſe to his cheek, and continued to chatter ;
Robinson, poor Robinson, where have you been ?
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 ba-
niſh it from his imagination. Oh what fooliſh and
pernicious reſolutions does a man take, when his
pallions have once obſcured his underſtandig! Ro.
binſon reſolved in his mind a thouſand ſchemes for
his ſafety, of which one was fiill more extravagant
than the other, Among the reſt – would you be-
lieve it? – he reſolved to deſtroy every thing, he
had hitherto made with ſo much labour and fatigue,
as ſoon as day- light ſhould appear. He intended,
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 ha-
17) to teach. 18) to come.
239
bitation, and the fine wall, he had made before it.
Finally he would alſo dig up his gardens and plan-
tations, ſo that not the leaſt mark of any human
contriſance ſhould remain in the whole iſland. -
Joan. 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 favage monſters..
All. Good night, Papa! Thank you for your
intereſting ſtory!
204
FIFTEENTH EVENING,
(The Father proceeds.)
My children, it is a true proverb: Adviſe with
your pillow. That we may ſee by Robinson's ex-
ample. .
You know, what fooliſh reſolutions his immo-
derate fear ſuggeſted him yelierday. It was well for
him, that he was obliged, to poltpone 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 diffe-
rent 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 re-
jected all thoſe raſh [chemes, which fear had made
him project and took others, that were approved of
by reaſon.
His example, my dear children, may ſerve, to
warn you, never to execute any hafty reſolutions
242
eſpecially in things, that may be deferred, but rather
leave it to the following day, if poſſible. .
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 over here
at times from other iſlands, to celebrate their victo-
ries, 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 therefore again a new and evident proof of
the kindneſs of divine providence, that I was thrown
19) in this barren part of the iſland, which is the
ſecurelt. 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 i
Now he reproached himſelf in the bittereſt man.
ner, for 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 reſigned himſelf to the
infinitely wiſe and good providence of God. Thus
newly ſtrengthened, he bent his way to his habita-
tion, to do, what he had now reſolved upon.
John. And what would he do now?
FATHER. He would only make ſome difpofi-
tions for his greater ſafety; and in this he acted
-ig) to throw.
(16)
242
;
very reaſonably. For, tho' we muſt truſt in God's
providence, convinced that he will not forſake us
in neceſlity, if we endeavour to live according to
his holy will, yet we muſt neglect nothing on our
fide, that may contribute to our ſafety and happi-
neſs. For God Almighty has given us our under-
ftanding 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 difiance about the wall, that ſur-
rounded his habitation, to. hinder his caftle. from
being ſeen at a diſtance. For this purpoſe he plant-
ed by degrees near two thouſand ſticks of ſome kind
of willows', the eaſy' and quick growth of which,
he had already experienced. Theſe he did not plant
in rows, but in an irregular manner on purpoſe ,
ſo that the whole ſeemed to be a natural wood; and
not made by the hands of man...
Next he reſolved to make a ſubterraneous palla-
ge 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 troubleſome and tedious
attenpt, and you may eaſily think, that his fhip
building was now for ſome time neglected.
In making this paſlage under ground, he pro-
ceeded in the ſame manner, as miners do in the
mines. Por
THEOPHILUS. Pray, how is that?
JOHN. Have you forgot it? Firſt they dig ſtraight
downwards, as if they were digging a well; and
245
then they dig fide - ways, and then again down
wards, and then again fide - ways, till they come to
ſuch places, where they find any ore..
FATHER. That's well explained ! Now. obſerve
when they dig lide-ways, (which is called horizon-
tally) the earth would fall down on their heads, if
they did not prop it. Thus they fix it with poſis
and croſs - beams, and our Robinson worked in the
ſame manner.
All the carth, he dug out of this paſſage, he
threw 20) againſt his wall, ſo that it at laſt became
a rampart eight foot thick and ten foot high. He
left ſmall openings in ſeveral parts of it, like em-
braſures, to look thro'. At the ſame time he icút
out ſome ſteps in it, for the conveniency of going
up and down and to defend his cafile, if neceſſary
from the top of the rampart. .
Now he ſeemed to be ſufficiently ſecured againft
any ſudden attack. But, if the enemies ſhould take
it in their heads, to beſiege him in due form ? how
then ?
This caſe ſeemed not impoſible; he thought it
therefore neceſſary, to provide for that too, that he,
might not be reduced by bunger and thirſt, to ſur-
render. 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 her 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 final-
ly, to lay up a proviſion of fruits and oyſters from
20) to throw
244
one day to another, and keep them as long as he
could.
. He was forced, to give over another plan, becauſe
he foreſaw. 21), 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 habita-
tion, in order ; to be provided with water in caſe
of a liege. 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
return to his ſhip-wright's work.
Thus fome years rolled over again, in which
there happen'd nothing remarkable. I haften there-
fore to one of the moſi important accidents, which
had a greater influence on the fate of our good
friend, than any thing, that had hitherto 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 ſenſa-
tion at this fight was terror, the ſecond curioſity,
and both together urged him on, to run as faſt as
he could to the hill. behind his cafile, to ſee from
there, what might be the cauſe of it. He had ſcar-
ce aſcended the hill, when to his greateſt aſtoniſh-
ment he diſcovered five canoes or ſmall boats, and
at leaſt thirty favages about a large fire capering and
dancing about the flames with barbarous geſtures
and marks of joy.
21) to foreſee.
245
Tho' Robinson was very well prepared for ſuch
a ſpectacle, 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 hafte, to put himſelf in
a poſture of defence, he ſeized his accoutrements, and
committing himſelf to God's protection, took the
manly reſolution, to defend his life till his last
breath. He had ſcarce taken this reſolution, and
ſtrengthen'd his mind by a ſhort prayer, when his
hicart 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 horror, when he ſaw them pretty diftinctly
dragging two poor wretches from the boats towards
the fire! He doubted not, but they would be inhu-
manly butcher'd, and in the ſame moment his ſul-
picions were confirmed in the moſt ſhocking manner
Some of thoſe monſters knocked down, the priſoner
and ſome others got hold of him, probably to open
his body and prepare it for their abominable feaſt.
At the ſame time an other priſoner food by as
ſpectator, till it ſhould come to his turn. But this
poor wretch perceiving them all buſy about his mur-
dered comrade, and not .very mindful of him, he
fuddenly ſtarted away from them, and ran with in-.
credible ſwiftneſs towards Robinson's habitation. .
Joy, hope, fear and horror now at once got
poſleſfion of our hero's heart, and firſt made his
cheeks glow like ſcarlet and then as pale as death ;
246
joy and hope prevailed in his heart, becauſe he per-
ceived, that the fugitive could outrun his purſuers ;
fear and horror on the contrary, becauſe the fugiti-
ve and his purſuers came running directly towards
his caſtle. However there was a ſmall creek between
which the unforľunate fugitive would be obliged to
croſs, if he would not be taken. But he had ſcarce
reached it, when, without heſitation he immediate-
ly plunged into the food, and with the ſame (wiſt-
neſs, lie had ſhewn 22), in running, ſwam to the
oppoſite ſhore.
Two of his foremoſt purſuers' plunged in after
him, the reſt returned to their abominable feaft.
With inward ſatiſfaction Robinson beheld 23), 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 he had ever before expe-
rienced. Fire flaſhed from his eyes; his heart urged
him to alhift 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 former with a
loud thundering voice, jumping forward from among
the buſhes'; fiop - The poor fugitive looked behind
him, and was ſo terrified at the fight of Robinson
who was quite covered with ſkins, that he did not
22) to Chew. 23) to behold.
247
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. Co near, that he
could reach the foremoſt with his lance. He ſum-
mon'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 behind,
fiopt 24) ſhort; took his bow from his back and ha-
ving fixed an arrow to it, ſhot at Robinson, whilft
he was advancing towards him. The arrow hit di.
rectly that part of his body, where the heart is lod
ged, but it had luckily ſo little force, that it re-
bounded againſt his hard fur-jacket, as if it had
been againſt an armour, without doing him the leaſt
liarm. .'
Our, courageous combatant did not give the ene-
my time, to ſhoot a ſecond arrow; he ran up to
him, and laid him ſprawling in the ſand, whilft he
was again bending his bow. And now he turned to-
wards him, whom he had reſcued.
The fugitive ftood between hope and fear on
the ſame ſpot, where Robinson had called to him,
not knowing, whether all this was for his delive-
rance, or whether it would be his turn next. The
victor halloed to him again and beckon'd him to
approach. He obey'd; but ſoon ſtopt again, then
he drew 25) a little nearer, and then again he ftopt
25) to draw.
248
with viſible marks of terror and in the poſture of a
ſupplicant. 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 hu-
mility, as if he would thank him and do him ho-
mage at the ſame time.
Hereupon Robinson threw off his maſk and ſhew-
ed him a human and friendly face; upon which
the ſavage approached without any heſitation, kneel-
ed down before him, killed the ground, laid himſelf
Alat down, and ſet Robinson's foot on his head, pro-
bably 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 endea-
vour'd to convince him by all poſfible means, that
he had nothing but kindneſs to expect from him.
But there was ſtill more to be done.
One of the ſavages, who in all probability was not
mortally wounded, and had only got a wound in his
belly, began to come to himſelf pulled up ſome graſs
and ſtuffed it in his wound, in order to ſtop the
blood. Robinson made his ſavage atrentive to this
and he anſwered him ſome words in his own ton-
gue which tho' he could not underftand, yet ſound-
ed like muſik in his ears, becauſe it was the firft
human voice, he heard after ſo many years. Upon
which the Indian pointed to his hatchet, then to
himſelf, and gave him to underſtand, that he wiſh.
ed to have it, in order to diſpatch his enemy with
it. Our hero, who was loath to ſhed human blood,
249
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 ran to the wounded ſava-
ge, and at one blow cleft 26) his ſcull down to
the very ſhoulders. When the exploit was done,
he returned ſmiling, and with many very odd ge-
ſtures laid the ſcull of the ſlain, as a trophy, at Mis
feet. '
Robinson gave him to underſtand by figns, to
take the bow and arrows from the dead man and
follow him. But the lavage made him comprehend,
that he would firſt bury the dead carcaſs in the ſand,
that his comrades, in caſe they came to look for him,
might not find him.' Robinson having lignihed that
he approved his precaution, the ſavage was ſo nim-
ble with his hands, that in leſs, 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 a murderer. "
FREDERIC. Why, he had only killed favages ;
what did that fignify?
CHARLOTTE. But nevertheleſs they were men!
FATHER. To be ſure they were, Frederic, and
either favage 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.
26) to cleave.
250
FATIIER. Why ſo ?
JOHN. Becauſe they were ſuch monfiers, and
would otherwiſe have killed the other poor fellow
wlio probably had done them no harm.
FATHER. But how could. Robinson know that ?
Perhaps he deſerved death? Perhaps thoſe, that pure
ſued him, were officers of jufiice, who had orders
from their ſupperior, to do ſo ? And then, who
had made Robinson judge over thien ?
NICOLAS. Ay, but if lie had not killed them,
they would perhaps liave ſeen his cafile, and then
they would have told the relt 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 lias one a right to kill another, to ſave one's
own life?
All. Oh yes !
TATHER. Why?
John. Becauſe it is God's will, that we preſerve
our lives, as long as we poffibly can. If therefore
any one will kill us, it muſt be right, to kill him
firti, to prevent his killing us.
FATHER, To be ſure, my dear. children, ſuch
ſelf - defence is allowable by divine and human laws,
but - obſerve me well! in that caſe only when the-
re is no other remedy, to ſave ourſelves. Whereas
if we have an opportunity to eſcape, or to be pro-
tected by others, or to diſable our purſuers from
251
hurting us : äný attempt upon his life is real "mur-
der, and is puniſh'd as fuclı by the law, *
Do not forget, to thank God, y dear children,
that we live in a country, in which our ſupreriors
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-pré-
ſervation. ..
This is Cufficient for to-day.
252
SIXTEENTH E VENING.
After the meeting of the company the following
evening, and the uſual exclamation ,ah of Robin-
son! of Robinson! “ having paſt from mouth to
mouth, (the Father proceeded with his narration in
the following manner:
. 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 lavage, whoſe life he had
preſerved and there we left him. yeſterday, incertain
what would become of them? His ſituation was fill
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
comrades and look for their deſerted priſoner? And
if they did ſo, how much was it not to be feared
but they would diſcover Robinson's habitation, take
* 253
it by form, and kill him and his vallal at the ſame
time?
. Robinson ſhuddered at this thought, as he ſtood
on the top of the hill behind a tree, contemplating
the abominable expreſſions of joy and the dances of
theſe favage monſters at a diſtance. He deliberated
hafiily, whether he had beſt flee, or return to his
caſtle? One thought of God, the protector of inno-
cence, gave him ſtrength and courage to chuſe the
latter. He therefore crept, 27) on his hands and
feet to avoid being ſeen, behind ſome low buſhes
towards his rope- ladder, and ordered his companion
by ligns, to do the ſame. And thus they both got
down. .
. .
Here the favage ftared', to ſee the convenient
and regular diſpoſition of his deliverer's habitation,
becauſe he had never ſeen any thing ſo handſome in
his life. He was nearly in the ſame frame of mind,
as a country man, who having never been away
from his village, ſoes a palace for the firſt time.
Robinson gave him to underfiand by figns, what
he apprehended for them both from his barbarous
country- men, and fignified to him his reſolution
of defending his life to the laſt drop of his blood.
The favage underſtood him, made a dreadful face,
brandiſhed the hatchet, which he had fill in his
hands, ſeveral times over his head, and then turn-
ed with a threatening countenance to that fide, whe-
re he ſaw his enemies, as if challenging them to
· fight, and by all this le gave his protector to un-
27) to creep.
254
derſtand, that he did not want courage, to defend
himſelf bravely. Robinson 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 centi-
nel at a little hole, which he had left on purpoſe
in his wall, and 'thro' which one could overlook
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 man-
ner, when they were ſuddenly alarmed by the con-
fuſed noiſe of mariy voices, but at a pretty great
diſtance. They both prepared for battle, and encou-
raged each other by ſigns. The noiſe cealed; then
they heard ſimilar cries and ſomething nearer too,
upon which a dreadful filence enſued again. Now -
CHARLOTTE. Oh Papa, I ſhall run away, if
they come!
FREDERIC. Fie! who would be ſuch a coward!
THEOPHILUS. Let them alone, Charlotte ! Ro-
binson will fight them; I am not at all afraid of
that.
CHARLOTTE. Well, you'll ſee, they will cer-
tainly murder him.
John. Oh, be quiet!
FATHER, "Now they heard a fingle coarſe voice,
bellowing hideoully in the wood which was repeat-
ed by the echo of the hill. Our champion's ſtood
prepared; their bows were already bent, to ſend an
arrow to the heart of the firſt, that ſhould make his
255
appearance, Their eyes ſparkled with valiant expec-
tation, and were continually fixed on that part of
the wood, from whence the voice had proceeded -
Here the father broke 28) off abruptly and the
children were all filent full of expectation. But no-
thing enſued. At laſt they all aſked him as with one
voice: why he did not continue ? and the father anf-
wered:
„To afford you another opportunity, by which
you may moderate your deſires! You are all probab-
ly very anxious to know the reſult of that dreadful
battle, which ſeems to await our Robinsort, 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 gra-
tilication of it till to morrow? However you are at
perfect 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 *). . . .
i In the interim every one continued his uſual
work, and they held 29) an inſtructive converſation,
untill the beating of the drum for ſupper. Some
made baſkets, others laces, and others again made
28) to break. 29) to hold.
*) But our young readers muſt know, that theſe chil.
dren 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 deareſt pleaſures with
a ſmiling countenance; and they will do well, to imi.
tate theſe children, who find it very good for them.
256
plans for a little fortification, tliat was ſhortly to be
conſtructed in the greač yard; and the following
evening the father continued his narration, where
he had broken 30) off.
Robinson and his gallant vaſſal remained in that
warlike pofiure, in which we left them yefierday,
without ſeeing or hearing any thing further. At laſt
they both conjectured, that the ſavages had given
up their fruitleſs ſearch, and returned home in their
canoes. They therefore laid down their arms, and
Robinson went, to fetch fome of his proviſions for
ſupper. "
As this remarkable day, which is ſo particularly
diſtinguiſhed in the hiſtory of our friend, was. a
friday, le reſolved, to give that name to the Savage,
he had ſaved, and therefore called him Friday. ..
Robinson had now time, to conſider him a lit-
tle 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 hung-
ry; yet he took time firſt, to cut an apron for his
naked companion out of an old ſkin, and to tie it
60) to break.
257
-
about him with ſome pack-thread. Then he made
him fit down by him and eat his ſupper. Friday
(for ſo we will call him for the future) drew 31)
near with all poſſible marks of reſpect and gratitude,
then kneeled down before him, laid his head on the
groiind and placed his deliverer's foot upon it, as he
had done the firſt time, in ſhort, he made all the
antic geſtures imaginable to expreſs his thankfulneſs
to him for his deliverance.
Robinson's heart, which could ſcarce contain
the joy at his having now got this long willied for
companion and friend, was ready, to melt within him
and to overflow in careſſes and tender enibraces: but
the thonght, that for his own ſecurity he would be
obliged, to keep his new gueſt, whoſe chracter he .
did not yet know, for ſome time, in the bounds
of reſpecť and ſubjection, made him accept of his
homage, as ſomething due to him, and act the fo-
vereign for ſome time. He made him therefore un-
derſtand by ſigns an geſtures, that he had indeed ta-
ken him under his protection, but on condition of
the ſtricteſt obedience: that he muſt therefore con-
ſent to do or not to do, whatever lie, his Lord and
King, ſhould think proper to order or forbid him.
In making him fenfible of this, he employed the
word Catcheek, a name, by which the Americans
to have heard once.
. This word made Friday underſtand the meaning
of his maſter, more than all the ſigns with which
31) to draw.
(17)
258
he accompanied it, and he expreſſed his fatiſfaction
by repeating the word Catcheek ſeveral times with
a loud voice and by proftrating 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
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 fit 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 beaſt, which
were anciently more numerons, than at preſen, and
againſt ſuch people as wrong'd them. - In return
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 the neceſſity of
getting their own livelihood, but employ themſel-
ves ſolely with the care of their ſubjects. This annu.
al gift, which the ſubjects promiſed to their king,
was called a tribute, or anual taxes. Thus aroſe 32)
royal authority and the duty of obedience and ſub-
82) to ariſe.
259
miſſion to one man or more; under whoſe protec-
tion we live.
Robinson was now a real king, only that his
domition reached no further, than over a Gngle
ſubject ſome lamas and the parrot. However his
majeſty was pleated to treat his vallal with as much
condeſcenſion, as his dignity would allow.
FREDERIC, Pray, what is a vaſſal?
FATHER. It is the ſame as a ſubject, dear Fre-
deric. -
After ſupper his majefiy was gracioully pleaſed
to give his orders for the diſpoſition of the night.
He thought it proper, not to let his ſubject - who
was now at the ſame time his firſt miniſter of State
and his 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 (cruples 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 car-
ry ſome hay into the cellar, and to make a bed for
himſelf, whilft his majeſty for his greater ſecurity
carried all the arms into his own bed-chamber.
Then he was pleaſed to give an example of con-
deſcenſion and meekneſs in the preſence of his whole
empire., which is perhaps the only one of its kind.
You would be aſtoniſhed at it, and think it incredi-
ble, if I could not aſſure you, that it is in plain
260
words written 33) 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 wholerland
the ſole arbiter of life and death of all his ſubjects,
performed in the preſence of Iride 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 buſineſs, how
to do it for the future! -
Here the father fiopt, to give iime for the gene-
ral laughter, which this comical circumfiance liad
occaſion'd. "After which he continued as follows:
Friday did not yet comprehend what his mafier
was doing: for neither he nor his country-men had
ever imagined that the milk of animals was a nou-
riſhing and wholeſome food. He had never drink
any milk, and he was therefore qnile 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 oro!
der'd his vaſſal to go to bed ; and he did the ſame.
But before he went to reft, he did not forget to
offer his prayers to God, for having turned from
him the dangers of the day, and for having ſent
him a human creature to affift kim..
33) to write.
261
SE VENTE ENTH E VENÍN G.
John. Now I am curious to know, what Robin-
son 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
alliſtant!
FATHER. You will ever more perceive , my
children, what great advantages man derives from
fociety, and how much reaſon we have, to thank
God, for having implanted in us ſuch a firong in-
clination 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 ſa-
vages had kept 34) their victorious feaſt the day be-
fore. In their way thither they paſſed by the place,
where the two ſavages, whom Robinson had llain
35), lay enterred. Friday pointed to the place, and
54) to keep: 35) to ſlay.
262
gave his malier pretty plainly to underſtand, that he
had a good mind to dig up the dead bodies, and
devour them. Robinson made a dreadful face, ex-
preſfing indignation and abhorrence, lifted up luis
lance with threatening aſpect, and gave him to un-
derfiand, that he would immediately kill him, if he
ſhould offer to eat human fleſh again. Friday com-
prehended his maſter's threats and ſubmitted obe-
diently to his will, though he could not conceive,
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 light! Here lay ſeveral hu-
man 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 theni
all in a heap, then dig a hole in the ground and
bury the horrid remains of the inhumanity of his
countrymen; and Friday obey'd.
Robinson examined the aſhes in the mean time,
to ſee, wliether he could not find a ſpark of frey
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 pre-
ſent nothing left to wiſh, but fire. Whilft he ftood
there quite dejected and conſidering the dead aſhes
with melancholy looks , Friday, after liaving .confi
dered him for ſome time with attention, made him
ſome incomprehenſible ligns, then ſeizing the hat-
263
chet, he ran like lightening into the wood, and
left Robinson, who, not knowing his delign, was
quite petrified at his ſudden flight.
„\Vhat can be the meaning of this ? “ thought
le to himſelf, looking earnefily after him. „ Could
the ungrateful wretch forſake me, and even deprive
me of my hatchet ? could he be cruel enough, to
take poffeffion of my habitation and exclude me from
it by violence, or even betray me to his inhuman
country - men ? - abominable! abominable ! “ he
cried, and, ſeized his lance, fired with indignation at
ſuch an unheard of ingratitude, and was going to
purſue the traitor, to prevent him from executing
his dark deſign.
He had already begun 36) his purſuit with hafty
ſteps, when he ſuddenly ſaw Friday returning in
full ſpeed, Robinson ftood 37) quite ſtupihed, and
ſaw with ſurpriſe, that his ſuppoſed traitor had his
hand full of dried graſs, from which ſome ſmoke
aroſe 38), Soon after when it took fire, Friday
fung 39) it to the ground, put more dried graſs
and wood upon it, and Robinson in that moment
law with joyful ſurpriſe a clear fine fire blazing up.
Now he at once comprehended Friday's ſudden fight;
and quite loft 40) in joy, he fell on his neck, preſ-
fed him heartly, and in his own mind begged a
thouſand times his pardon for his untimely fufpicion.
NICOLAS. But where did Friday get the fire ?
FATHER. He ran with his hatchet into the
86) to begin. 37) to ſtand. 58) to ariſe, 39) to fling.
60) to loſe.
264
wood, to cut a couple of dry ſticks.' Theſe he rub-
bed together with ſo much quickneſs and addreſs,
that they took fire, then be wrapped this burning
wood up in a little bay, and with this hay in his
hand, he ran away as faſt as he could. By this
ſwift mótion the lay took fire and began to fame
FRIEND P. There again I do not like our friend
Robinson.
Joun. Why not?
FRIEND R. Becauſe he could harbour ſuch a
black fufpicion againſt him, without having any
fufficient proof of his infidelity. Fie! who would
be fo Infpicious!
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 runningin 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 fufpicion grounded, and for fal-
ling into ſuch a paſſion, as not to ſuppoſe, that Fri-
day might fiill be innocenti -- No, our diffidence
of other people muft never go ſo far, jf. we have
not the ſurelt proofs of their infidelity before us.
In doubtful caſes we muſt always ſuppoſe the beſt,
but never the worſt.,
265
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 his fofpicion va-
niſh, and found himſelf again in poffeffion of fireg
which he had ſo long wiſhed for, and ſo long wan-
ted. He delighted his eyes a long while by looking
upon the burning Aames. At laſt he took a fire-
brand, and ran in company with Friday to his ha-
bitation.
: Here he made directly a clear fire in his kitchen,
put ſome potatoes before it, and flew 41) like ligh-
tening to his Rock, 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 pin :
· Whilli 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 pota-
toes, bruiled a handful 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
neceſary. Neither did he forget to ſhake ſome falt
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 caſily thiuk,
how he longed for it..
.Friday ſtarred at all theſe preparations, becaufa
-42) to fly
266
he could 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.
Ņow whilft 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 niotion all of a ſudden?
But when it boiled up and began to run over on
all fides, he took the fooliſh whim in his head,
that perhaps there might be ſome living creature in
it, which cauſed this ſudden motion; 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 fet up
Luch a dreadful roar, as to make the rock of the
cave re-cho.
: 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 ela
cape thro' his concealed paſage under ground, and
to ſave his own life. But he quickly rejected this
jdea becaufe he juſily thought it a baſeneſs, to aban-
don his new companion and friend. He therefore
fallied forth from his cave without any further heli-
tation firmly reſolved, to deliver Friday again from
the hands of thoſe monſters at the peril of his own
body and life.
267
FATHER. Tlius he fallied forth with his hat-
chet in his hand: but – how great was his afio.
niſhment, when he ſaw Friday quite alone, jum-
ping about like a madman, roaring without intermil-
fion and making very ſingular contorſions, He fiood
a good while quite fupified, not knowing what to
think of it. At lalt they came to an explanation
and lie was informed by ſigns, that the whole mil-
chief confified 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 compre.
hend till a year afterwards, when Friday could
Speak with him why he made fuch a dreadful noiſe
for ſuch a trifle, and why he made ſuch wry faces :
I muſt firſt tell you, wliat ignorant, untaught peo.
ple generally think in their youth, when any thing
happens to them, of which they can not conceive
the reaſon.
Theſe poor fimple folks then generally believe
ſome inviſible being, ſome ſpirít, to be the cauſe
of what they can not comprehend; and they think,
that a ſpirit produces ſuch au effect at the command
of ſome man, to whoſe will it is become ſervile,
Such a man, whom they ſuppoſe to have power
over one or more ſpirits, they call a ſorcerer or
wizard, and if it is a woman, a forcereſs or witch.
If a horſe or a cow, belonging to a poor igno-
rant country man, fall ſuddenly ill, and he can not
gueſs the cauſe of their fickneſs, he is very apt to
ſuppoſe there muſt be ſome wizard or witch in the
268
village, who has bewitched his horſe or his cow,
that is, made them fall fick by means of ſome invi.
ſible evil ſprit, or demon.
CHARLOTTE. Oh yes , Papa, that's what our
Nanny ſaid, when our cow became dey all of a ſud.
den. .
.
.. FATHER. Take care therefore, dear Charlotte,
to undeceive the poor, girl, if you can, when you
aſliſt in the kitchen to morrow. –... ..
Now when ſuch ſimple folks are ſo fuperftitious,
there are generally fome cunning, malicious cheats,
who take advantage of their ignorance and ſuperſti-
tion, in order to get money from them. Such im-
poltors know liow to give themſelves an important
air ; confirm the poor people in their error , and
perfuade them, that the bealt is really bewitched;
but that, at the ſame time for à certain ſum of mo-
ney, they are able to cure ſuch an animal by coun-
tercharms or force the forcerer or evil ſpirit to de.
fifi. Then theſe fimple folks give them. what they
demand, and the conjurer, (ſo they call ſuch a cheat)
plays all ſorts of fooliſh tricks before them. Now
if the beaſt recovers by accident, they ſwear, it has
really been bewitched, but countercharmed by the
cunning man, (which is another name for ſuch de-
ceivers.). But if the beaſt happens to die, the cun-
ning man can, allign a thouſand reaſons, why his
charm has proved fruitleſs.
The more ftupid men are, the more they are
addicted to this fatal ſuperſtition. You may there-
fore eaſily think, that it is very much in vogue
269
amongſt ſayages. Whatever their fimple underſtan-
ding can not comprehend, they aſcribe to the works
ing 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 ſen-
ſation it cauſes, when one puts one's hand into boil.
ing water: he could therefore by no means compre-,
hend, whence that very painful ſenſation proceeded
which ſeized him as ſoon as his hand touched the
boiling water. He therefore firmly believed, that
there was witchcraft in it, and that his maſter was
a ſorcerer.
Now, my children, -- you alſo muſt expect,
that – in future times you will meet with ſome-
thing or other, the cauſe of which you will not be
able to diſcover. You will ſee jugglers and conju.
rers, who can do wonderful things, who, for in-
ſtance, can in appearance change a bird into a mou-
ſe, 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 occafions you
ſhould be trempted, to imagine that this muſt be
done by evil means, that the man muſt be a wizard !
then remember our Friday, and be allured, that you
are in the ſame caſe, he was in ; and that from ig-
norance you believe a thing to be fupernatural,
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.
270
It was not very eaſy, as I told you before, 10
quiet poor Friday, and make him fit 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 fuppernatural being.
He was ſtrengthened in his opinion by Robinson's
white european complexion and long beard, whichi
gave him a quite different appearance, from that of
Friday's tawny and beardleſs .countrymen.
NICOLAS. Have the fayages 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 be-
cauſe they very carefully pluck out the hairs from
their chins, as ſoon as they appear.
Now the broth , potatoes and roaſt meat, all
was ready. As he had no fpoons, he poured out
-ſome broth out in two other pots. But Friday could
in no wiſe be prevailed upon, to take ſome, becauſe
he thought the broth was ſome bewitching potion
and he ſhuddered with horror, when he ſaw Ro.
binson lifting the pot to his mouth and drinking
the ſuppoſed bewitched broth, whereas he ate 42)
with great appetite ſome of the roaſt meat and po-
tatoes. You can hardly imagine, how delightful it
was for Robinson, to eat warm and nouriſhing vic-
luals. It made him forget all the hardſhips, he ſufor
fered during the former years, ſpent in miſery; it
made him forget, that he was ſtill in his iſland, he
42) to eat.
272
thought himſelf in another country, nay in the midſt
of Europe. Providence can thus by the balm of un-
expected joy in a ſingle moment heal the wounds of
our hearts, that were ftruck 43) for our good, and
which, during the ſenſation of pain, we think incu-
rable! I think it needleſs to tell you , that Robinson
did not forget, to thank the Giver of all good things
with love and gratitude, whilft he was enjoying
this new gift of his divine bounty.
The meal being finiſhed, Robinson placed him.
ſelf in his muſing corner, to make ſerious reflections
on the happy change of his ſituation. Every thing
had now a quite different, a much more agreeable
appearance. His life was no longer ſolitary; be had
now a companion, with whom, it is true, he could
not converſe as yet, but his bare company afforded
him comfort and allftance; he had again fire and
palatable and wholeſome proviſions in plenty. „What
can hinder me now, thought he, from living ſatiſ-
fied and at eaſe ? I will therefore enjoy the manifold
benefits of Heaven; I will eat and drink the beft of
my flock and of the fruits of my land, (for I have
abundance of every thing) and make myſelf amends
for the hardſhips 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 ftopt; for an.
other idea ftruck him.
„But how? thought he, if all my preſent hap.
pineſs ſhould at once cenfe ? If Friday ſhould happen
43) to strike.
272
fo 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 voluptủous
life I indulged myſelf ſo much, that it were impoſ-
fible for me to return to the hardſhips and miſery
of my former way of life? And if I were neverthe-
Jeſs forced to return to it?" Here he heaved a deep
ligh...
Then he continued: „To what am I indebted
for having been diſengaged from ſo many frailties
and vices, which I was ſo much addicted to be-
fore? .certainly to that ſober and laborions life, I
was forced to. : And ſhould I now riſk lofing that
health of body and mind, which I have acquired
by frugality and labour? God forbid!“ thought he,
jumping up from his ſeat, and walking haftily up
and down in his yard. Priday was in the mean
time carrying the remains of the dinner in the cel-
lar, and went now at Robinson's command to milk
the lamas.
In the interim Robinson was thus going on me.
'ditating: ,, And, how long would it be, before I
ſhould forget all the hardſhips, I fuffered and the
paternal aſliſtance, which God has hitherto lent 44)
me, if I were henceforth to lead an eaſy and volup-
tuous, life? how ſoon would I become preſumptu-
ous, arrogant and even forget God Almighty ? that's
dreadful! dreadful! he cried and fell on his knees,
to pray God to preſerve hiin above all things from
ſuch deteſtable ingratitude
44:) to lend.
273
He remained a few minutes longer quite abſor-
bed in thoughts; then he took the following manly.
and truly falutary reſolution:
. „I will indeed, thought he, enjoy the new gifts
of divine bounty, but always with the greateſt tem-
perance. The moſt ſimple victuals ſhall be my food
however great and manifold my proviſions may be.
I will alſo continue my labour with as much indu-
ſtry and as uninterruptedly, as I have done hitherto,
tho' it be not lo neceſſary. One day every week,
and this ſhall be the ſaturday, I will live on the ſa-
me raw victuals, on which I have hitherto fubfift-
ed, and I will ſpend the laſt day of every month as
ſolitary; as I 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.“
After having taken this virtuous reſolution, he
felt that pure, heavenly joy, with which any endea-
vour after higher perfection is always attended. His
face glow'd, his heart anticipated the happy conſe-
quences of this free ſacrifice and beat more cheerly
and he found himſelf unſpeakably eaſy. But now he
knew 45) the inconftancy of the human heart, and
of his own too, and conſequently he foreſaw 46) that
it was not impoffible, but he might again forget all
theſe laudable reſolutions. He thought therefore,
that it would not be improper, to make ſome ſenfi-
ble mark, at the fight 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
45) to know. 46) to foreſee.
(18)
274
of his cave tlieſe words: Labour and tempera:
ance. Now, my children, I give you time till to
morrow; to conſider this inſtructive circumſtance in
the life of our friend ſee if there be not ſomething in
it', which you may imitate for your advantage. When
we are again aſſembled, you may thien communicate
me your thoughts on it, as I intend telling you mi-
ne.
275
EIGHTEENTH EVENING.
The following day the young folks were ſeen whiſ-
pering 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. How-
ever it was not poſſible to diſcover, what it was,
till the hour for Robinson's hiſtory had ftruck 47).
Then they came running and crowding about the
father, in ſo much that he was obliged to retreat .
to a graſs - 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 I ſhould
be glad - oh and I -
· FATHER. Huſh! Nay, I don't underſtand a
47) to ſtrike.
276
ſingle word, if you will all ſpeak together. Let one
ſpeak after the other! Dick, do you begin!
Dick.' I Nicolas 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 break-
faſt to - morrow, and no ſupper.
FATHER. And what is your reaſon for that ?
John. Nay, we would learn to be maſter of
ourfélves.,
Nicolas. 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 Pa-
pa to give us leave, not to go to bed to-morrow,
but fit up the whole night,
FATHER. I am glad, my children, that you
perceive the neceſſity of denying to yourſelves fometi-
mes 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
Came time. I therefore grant your requeſt, but 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
118. ' '
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,
Nicolas and John ; we will faft together at dinner
time, and I'll watch with you all.
277
FATHER. Bravo! Brayo! - Now Chould I alo-
ne be behind on the road to perfection + Hear,
what I have reſolved 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 ac.
cuſtom myſelf to take ſnuff and to ſmoke. All the-
ſe things greatly debilitate the body and create ſo
many neceſſaries and render us uneaſy every moment,
when we can not have them. I have often the head-
achie, 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 therefore I'll
neither linoke nor take any ſnuff; from this day for-
ward I'll drink no more tea nor coffee, no beer nor
wine, except on birth - days and other feftivals, then
we 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 objec-
tions againſt this; one will ſay: ,, he will copy (**)
Diogenes, “ Another will ſay: „the man is hypo-
(*) And will that do? ſaid Tome people and ſhook their
heads, when they heard of this reſolution. It will cer-
tainly 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 na-
tural “and ſimple way of living.
(**) Diogenes was a man, who denied himſelf every
thing, which was not abſolutely neceſſary for the ſup-
port of life.
278
chondriac, 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 be-
fore God and in our own conſcience, we muſt ise-
ver alk: 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 difternpers, becauſe I am reſolved to be no
longer fick in body and mind; but, my children, if
we have courage enough to return to the path of
Nature, we muſt never conſult phyſicians, who
themſelves have deviated from it.
I thought proper to tell you all this before hand,
that you might learo 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
1106 be able to conquer, if we earnefily ſet about
it.
- Now, my children, theſe exerciſes of abfiinen-
ce and ſelf-denial, which we have reſolved upon,
will be ſufficient 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 Ro.
binson
· His ſituation is now better, than it has ever
been ſince his being caſt away on this iſland. The
only things that made him now very uneaſy, was
the apprehenfion left the ſavages ſhould return to
look for their companions, that had not returned
279
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 undertain fate made him
no leſs uneaſy.
In theſe circumſtances the duty of ſelf-preſerva-
tion forced him to provide for his own ſafety as well
as poſſible. He had long ſince wiſhed to have proper
fortifications about his cafile: but the execution of
this plan ſeemed impoſſible for him as long as he
was alone. But now, as he had an affiftant, he
thought he might undertake ſuch a thing. He the-
refore 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 broad and deep ditch on the outſide
of the wall of trees, which incloſed his caſile, and
fix paliſades on the inſide of it.
FREDERIC. Pray, what are paliſades ?
Joun. 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 fort-
reſs. — Why, thoſe are paliſades.
Frederic, Oh yes! - Let's go on.
FATHER. Into this ditch he intended to lead
the ſpring, that aroſe 48) 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 fiege.
It was difficult, to make Friday comprehend all
48) to ariſe.
280
this by figns, However he ſucceeded at laſt; and
Friday ran directly to the ſea - Chore, to look for all
kinds of tools to dig and ſhovel with, I mean large
muſcle ſhells and fat ſharp liones. Upon which they
both fell a * working.
You may eaſily imagine, that this was not a ve-
ry eaſy taſk. They were obliged to make this ditch:
at leaſt fix 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 fieps. And as he had no
iron inftrument, no pick-axe, no ſpade, no ſhovel,
conſider what a laborious taſk it muſt be! They
wanted almoſt four hundred paliſades; and theſe muli
all be cut, ſquared and pointed with one lione - liat-
chet: they were alſo obliged to dig a Cannal almoſt
as deep from the ſpring to the ditch, to lead tlie
water thro'; and there was moreover between this
fpring 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 generally found with men
grown up in ſoftneſs, idleneſs and plenty. With
God and good courage! was the motto, with
which he began every important undertaking;, and
then we know, he did not defift till he had gained
his end.
It was the ſame now. Both he and Friday wore
ked, from early in the morning till late at night,
with ſuch vigour and earnefineſs, that it is ſurpri-
281
fing, how much the work advanced every day, not-
with lianding their wretclied tools. Luckily the wind
blew 49) from ſuch a quarter during two months,
that is was impoſible for the favages to viſit Robin-
son's iſland. Conſequently they needed not fear be-
ing ſurpriſed by them.
.
Whilft Robinson was thus buſy, he was endea-
vouring to teach his companion ſo much of the Ger-
man tongue, as to make him underſtand what he
ſpoke 50) to him; and Friday was to deſirous of
learning, that he could in a ſhort time comprehend
a great deal of it. In this Robinson did juft as we
do with you, when we teach you latin or french ;
as often as he could he ſhewed him the object, he
ſpoke of, and then pronounced the name of it aloud
and diſtinctly. But wlien he ſpoke of things, which
he could not ſhew him, he made ſuch expreſſive
looks and geſtures, that Friday could not but un-
derſtand him. Thus in leſs than ſix months, he had
learged ſo much German, that they could tolerably
well cómmunicate their thoughts 10 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 compa-
nion and his friend. Oh how inſignificant was now
the trivial pleaſure, which the ſenſeleſs chattering of
the parrot had given him, when * compared to this!
Friday ftill ſhew'd himſelf more and more as a
good-natured, faithful young man, in whom there
was no guile; and ſeemed to have the fincereft affec-
49) to blow. 60) to fpeak.
282
tion for his maſter. For which reaſon his maſter
became 51) every day fonder of him, and ſome-
time after he did not ſcruple, to let him ſleep along
fide of him in liis own cave.
In leſs 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 therefore 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 proſpect of the ſea, Friday food looking
towards the place, where they could but dimly diſco-
ver ſome iſlands at a great diſtance. All of a ſudden he
began to hop and caper for joy and made all ſorts
of geliures. On Robinson's aſking him: what was
the matter , he cried out joyfully, fiill continuing
to hop about: cheer up! cheer up! yonder is my coun-
try! There is my nation! From his glowing face
and ſparkling eyes, with which he accompanied the-
ſe exclamations, there appeared an exceſſive love for
his country and a deſire of returning to it. His
maſter was not at all pleaſed, when he obſerved
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 appre-
12
$1) to become.
hend, that he might one time or other leave him 1
the ſake of his country- men, endeavour'd to fou
him. He therefore began the following converſati
with him, which will make you ſtill better acqua:
ted with honeſt Friday.
ROBINSON. Would you then wiſh to live amo
your country-men again ?
FRIDAY. Oh yes ! I ſhould be glad , to.
them again. -
ROBINSON, You would then perhaps eat ma
fleſh with them again?
FRIDAY. (with a ſerious countenance.) No,
would teach them, not to be ſo ſavage any moi
and to eat the fleſh of animals and milk, but no !
man fleſh. . . . .
ROBINSON. But, ſuppoſe they ſhould eat yo
FRIDAY. No, they will never do ſo! .
ROBINSON. Why, but they do eat human fel
- FRIDAY. Yes, but only the fleſh of the er
mies, they have ſlain 52).
ROBINSON. Could you make a boat pray, to
over in?. .
FRIDAY. Oh yes!
ROBINSON. Well, then you may make one a
go over to them.
. (At theſe words Friday looked at once ſerio
and caſt down his eyes.)
ROBINSON. . Well, what is the matter? what n
kes you look ſo ſorrowful ?
52) to lay.
284
FRIDAY. It grieves me, that my dear miafter 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?
TRIDAY. Ay, but if my maſter is not there,
Friday does not will to be there neither.
ROBINSON. Your naration would think nie tlieir
enemy and eat me; ſo that you muſt go by yourſelf.
! At theſe words Friday ſnatched the hatchet from
his maſter's ſide, put it into his hand and held out
his head for him to cleave it.
ROBINSON What do you want ?
FRIDAY. Kill me, better kill me, than ſend me
away!
At which words the tears guſhed into his eyes.
This affected 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
fincerely. 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 being able to make a boat. He took him
therefore by the hand and led 53) him to the place,
where he had been working during ſome years, in
order $o make one. Here he ſhew'd him the tree,
the third part of which was not yet ſcooped out,
53) to lead.
285
and told him, how much time he had already ſpent
in that work.
Friday ſhook 54) his head and ſmiled. On Ro-
binson's aſking, what' objections he had againſt it?
He replied that all that work was unneceſſary that
Luch a tree could be hollow'd out much better and
faſter with fre. Who could be more. rejoiced at
tlı’s news, than Robinson! The boat was already
finiſh'd in his fancy; he thought himſelf already at
at ſea, and after a proſperous voyage, was landing
in ſome part of the continent, where he found Eu-
ropeans! How his heart beat for joy at the idea of
ſo near a deliverance! - It was reſolved 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
foon fail away; and when he is returned to Europe
Papa cau 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 occur that can defer finiſhing the boat and hin..
der their departure? The future is uncertain and va-
riable and generally proves quite different from whar
we expected. We are not ſeldom diſappointed in
64) to ſhake.
286
our hopes, tho’ they ſeem ever ſo ſure; and it is
therefore very wiſely done, to be prepared for the
worft. - Robinson, who had often experienced
this, went home in company with Friday, piouſly
reſolved, to leave the accompliſhment of his ardent
wiſh to the allwiſe and moſt bountiful Providence,
who knew much better than himſelf, what was
moſt expedient for him.
NINETEENTH EVENING.
During the aſſemblage of the company the next
evening, they had already in part begun thoſe exer-
ciles of abftinence, 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 pleafed
with fafting?
Alų. Oh very well! very well.
FATHER. You ſee, I am myſelf alive too, though
I had nothing to day but water and milk.
Nicolas. If that be all, I think I could faſt
ſtill longer !
All. So could I ! And I too! Why, that's no-
thing at all!
FATHER. There is no occafion for faſting any
longer; it might alſo prove pernicious to your healths :
but if you deſire it, I'll propoſe ſome other exerci.
fes, that will be equally uſeful.
288
ALL. Oh, yes, yes, dear Papa!
FATHER. Eevery one of us has done 5$) enough
for 10 day, eſpecially as we are to fit up the whole
night. But, if you really have a mind to become
very good men, found and ſtrong in body and mind,
and conſequently able to contribute 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 efteem, when I was re-
lating the ancient hiſtory. Theſe works contain the
precepts, which thoſe wiſe men gave to their diſci-
ples, 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 accom-
pliſhment of ſuch a precept into an eaſy and agreca-
ble habit. But this indeed can not be done without
renouncing a great many agreeable things, and withi-
out 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 with-
ftand every unwarrantable deſire and to fuffer 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
65) to do.
289
what we ourſelves have courage enouglı to accom-
pliſh. 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 therefore erected among them from that
very moment, which was particularly different from
other ſchools, that every week one leon only was
given of half an hour, which ſerved for a whole
week's earneſt. exerciſe. We may perhaps ſome ti-
me or other communicate theſe exerciſes and their hap.
py conſequences to our young readers, to teach them
the means of becoming very good, uſeful and happy
men *).
*) Something to ſerve as a proof of the happy conſe.
quences. Moſt of the cliildren, that are introduced
Speaking in this book, bad bad teeth, becauſe their
drink in their infancy. had been chiefly ſweet and
warm and they had been uſed to eat indny ſorts of
dainties. It was thonght neceſſary, to have their bad
teeth drawn. The father therefore called them toge.
ther and ſaid ; ,, My children, we think it neceſſary,
to have your hollow and rotten teetlı drawn, in or.
der to ſave you from future pain. It is indeed paine
ful! But cheer up your minds, it gives you an excellent
opportunity of exerciſing your courage and patiene
and of preparing you to bear pain like men for the
future. But this exerciſe muſt agaiu be voluntary and
without conſtraint, or elſe it is without nſe. Who.
ever will therefore undergo it freely, let him ſay
yes;" — They all cried: yes, yes, yes, with a cheer:
ful countenance, and vied with each other, who ſhould
be the firſt; then they placed themſelves by, tums be.
fore the dentiſt with undaunied courage, and - I ſay
310 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, with -
out the leaſt cry; nay, moſt of them wore conſtantly
(19)
290
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 ?
FATHER. I obſerved that, in hunian life, we
are often ſuddenly diſappointed in our fureſt hopes ;
and that therefore Robinson, however probable and
near his deliverance ſeemed to be, might meet with
Come unforeſeen obftacle, that would force him to
remain longer there. This obftacle appeared the ve-
ry 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 rainy
ſeaſon, which generally laſted one or two months,
it was impoffible to do any work without doors; lo
hard and inceſſant was the rain at ſuch times ! Rom
binson had alſo obſerved, that going out and getting
wet at this ſeaſon, was extremely pernicious to his
health. What was he therefore to do now? He could
not continue his ſhip-building, and was obliged to
paſs his time in domeſtick occupations.
It was now very agreeable to our Robinson du-
ring this rainy ſeaſon and the long dark evenings,
laughing. The dentiſt was aſtoniſhed , and declar'd,
that he had never ſeen any grown person, not any
man, who had' Chevn ſuch extraordinary courage -
. and the father dropt the moſt grateful tear of joy,
which had ever ran down his cheek.
291
to have a companion, a friend, with whom he could
pals his time in familiar diſcourſes during their do.
meliick occupations ! Formerly he was obliged to
paſs theſe diſmal evenings alone in idleneſs and in
the dark, whereas he now ſat 56) with Friday by
a lamp and near the kitchen - fire, worked and talk-
cd, and never felt the trouble of tediousneſs, which
is ſo oppreſſing.
Friday taught 57) him ſeveral little arts , by
which the favages make their ſituation tolerable; and
Robinson in his turn taught him other things, which
the lavages have no idea of. * Thus both encreaſed
in knowledge and dexterity, and by their mutual
indufiry they made a number of little works of art,
which, had every one been alone, would have been
impoſſible for either. Now they both felt, how
good it is for mankind to be held 58) together by
fociableneſs and friendſhip, and not to be roaming
about the world ſingle, like brutes.
Among other things Friday underftood the art
of making baſs - mats, which he made ſo cloſe, that
they ſerved them to make clothes of. Robinson learn.
ed it of him; and then they both made a ftock fufe
ficient for cloathing them both.
How did Robinson rejoice, that he could now
do without thoſe troubleſome clothes made of raw
hides !
:: Friday moreover underſtood the art of making
ropes of the filaments, which incloſe the cocoa-nute
and of ſeveral kinds of flaxy herbs, which were far
56) to ſit. 57) to teach. 58) to holda
292
ſuperior * to thoſer, which Robinson had hitherto
made. He could make filbing-nets of thread in a
particular manner ; an occupation, in which both
ſpent many * a long évening very agreeably.
During theſe domeſtic occupations Robinson's
chief aim was, 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 Fridy's knowledge of religion
was, you will eaſily perceive from the following
dialogne between hiin and his maſter.
ROBINSON. Can you tell me, Friday, who has
made the ſea, the eartlı, 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 lay O to him. (By which
he meant: all creatures adore or worſhip him.)
· ROBINSON. Whither do your country- men gó,
when they die?
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 tho.
Owokakee's, (by which he meant 59) prieſts) who
56) to men.
293
. ſay o to him, and then they tell us again, whát
he has ſaid.
Robinson. Are then the people happy with him
after their death?
FRIDAY. Oh yes, if they have killed and eaten
a great * many enemies....
Robinson ftarlled at his deplorable error, and
began directly to inſtill into him jufter ideas of God
-and of the life to comė. He thaught him, that God
is an inviſible, moſt powerful, moſt wife and moſt
bountiful being; that he has created every thing,
that exilis, and provides for every thing, but that
he himſelf never had any beginning; that he is pre-
ſent every where, and knows all * we think, ſpeak
and do; that lie finds pleaſure in whatever is good,
and abhors whatever is bad, that he can therefore
only make thoſe happy in this and our future: ftate,
who have with all their hearts endeavour'd to be-
come good.
Friday hearken'd to theſe ſublime and confort-
able inſtructions with reſpectful attention, and they
made a deep inipreſfion on his heart. He ſtill defin-
ed to know more of them, and Robinson' being: :*
as oager to teach liim, as he was to learn, le in a
ſhort time conceived the principal truths of religion
as diſtinctly and with as much conviction, as his
infiructor was capable to explain them to him. From
this time he eſteem'd himſelf infinitely happy, in har-
ing 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
294
becauſe otherwiſe he would probably never have
made Robinson's acquaintance. „And then, added
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 af-
fecting fight, too ſee, with what joyful devotion he
follow'd his example. And now they both lived
as ſatiſfied and happy, as two men ſeparated from
Thus the rainy ſeaſon paſſed without appearing
heavy to them The ſky already began to clear up;
the forms were huſhed, and the heavy rain- clouds
were diſperſed. Robinson and his faithful companion
Now again breathed the mild and temperate air
of the ſpring; they both felt themſelves firengthen'd,
and therefore went with great cheerfulneſs to the
important work, they had reſolved upon before the
rainy ſeaſon.
Friday, as Maſter in the art of Chip-building,
began to hollow out the trunk of the tree with
fire. This went ſo faſt and ſo well, that Robin-
son could not forbear calling himſelf a dunce,
becauſe he had not thought of that metlod. 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 circumfiantial account, how their work ad-
vanced every day, becauſe ſuch * a relation would
295
be neither * entertaining nor inſtructive. I ſhall there-
fore 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. The only wanted a fail
and oars. Friday undertook to make the former,
and Robinson the latter.
THEOPHILUS. But how could he' make ia fail ?
could he make one without linen?
FATHER. It is true, he did not underſtand to
make linen, 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
fail-cloth.
They both finiſhed their work nearly at the ſa-
me time, Robinson his oars, and Friday his fails;
and now they had nothing more to do, than to
launch the vellel 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 ?
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 removed, it runs along a beam into the
water, and this is called launching a ſhip. The
place, where they had built 60) their boat, was un-
fortunately for them ſome thouſand paces from the
60) to buila.
296
ſhore, and now the queſtion was: how they ſhould
get it thither ? To carry' it, to ſhove it, or to roll
it, ſeern'd impoffible; for it was much too heavy.
What were they therefore to do now? This was a
freſh difficulty for them ?".. .
Dick. Why, Robinson Meeded only * make ſuch
levers again, as he lately uſed, to roll the two large
ftones out of his cave, when he had no body to aſ-
fift him!
FATHER. He had not forgot the advantage
which this fimple inſtrument affords ; he' therefore
made uſe of it upon the occaſion; but this method
of moving that boat was ſo tedious, that he foreſaw
61), it would employ them a whole month at leaſt.
He luckily at laſt recollected ſuch an oiher ſimple in-
ftrument, which carpenters and other mechanický gea
nerally uſe in Europe to remove heavy burthens, I
mean rollers -
FREDERIC. What are rollers ?
FATHER. Long round pieces of 'wood, that ea-
fily roll along,' becauſe they are round. Theſe are
placed under the loads that are to be removed, which
if puſhed forward but with moderáte 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! In two days they got it into
the water, and it was no ſmall joy for them both
to ſee; that it anſwer'd their expectation perfectly
Now they had nothing more to do, than to
61) to foreſee.
297
make the neceſſary preparations for their departure,
that is to provide themſelves with as many provies
fions, 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 if
land; Robinson on the contrary deſired to fail to the
continent of America, where he hoped to meet with
Spaniards or other Europeans. Friday's country was
only about four germau miles, off and the conti-
nent from twelve to fifteen miles. If they firſt fail-
ed to the former, they went ſome miles further from
the latter, and the danger of the voyage was, conſe-
quently encreaſed. On the other hand Friday only
knew the way to his own country ; whereas the
way to the continent was entirely unknown to him.
Robinson knew ſtill leſs about the matter, having
never been in thoſe ſeas before. Thus they were
again involved in freſh difficulties.
At laf Robinson's deſire of returning among ci-
viliſod people got the better of all his companion's
difficulties and objections. It was reſolved, to make
all the neceſſary preparations for their departure the
very next morning, and to fail with the firli favou-
rable wind to where, * according to Friday's fup-
poſition, the next coaſt of the continent was ficuat-
cd...
And let this be enough for to day; it is time
to prepare ourſelves for our intended watch. -
Upon which they allembled in a watch - room,
where the mother had ſeveral kinds of domeltic 06-
cupations in readineſs for thoſe, who were * ta
298
watch, that they might amuſe themſelves during the
night. Two of them were placed as centinels into
the remoteft 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 appear-
ed on one fide of the ſky, and on the other a di.
fiant dark cloud, from which lightnings darted with-
out intermiſſion, the air was ſo warm, and all na-
ture ſo quiet, that they all confeſſed the next mor-
ning, that they had never paft a day, much leſs a
night with greater pleaſure, than * this.
299
TWENTIETH EVENING,
FATHER. Now my children, Robinson and Fri-
day: have pack'd up their alls, and the wind is fa-
vourable. Prepare therefore, to bid them farewell
for ever: for who knows, whether we ſhall eyer
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 ſepara-
tion is unavoidable; we muſt therefore reconcile
ourſelves to it before hand. . .
When Robinson had left his cafile, he ftopt 62)
on the hill above it in a penſive poſture, and bades
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 guid-
ance of heaven, which had hitherto directed him,
moved his inmoſt heart. A food of greateful tears
62) to ſtop.
300
.
.
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 I'ather, how
am I to thank thee for all thou haſt hitherto done
for me? Beliold (falling on his knees) here I lie in
the duſt before thy allſeeing eyes, unable to expreſs
niy ardent feelings in words ! But thou feeft this
heart, thou feeft the inexpreſfible ſentiments of gra-
titude, with which it is entirely filled. This heart,
which loves thee above all things, which thou haſt
so often aniended, this heart, that has beeu 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
acçompliſh the work of my amendment, which thou
haſt begun ! Behold, I caſt myſelf again into tlıy pa-
ternal arms! Do with me according to thy will. 011-
ly let me never again forſake the path of virtue,
to which thy mercy has brought 63) me back. On-
ly preſerve me from that, my Father, only preſerve
me front that! For the reſt, let ny fate be, what-
ever they divine wisdom has decreed. I go, wher-
ever thou wilt * lead me; I go with courage,. con-
fiding in thee, to meet every new danger, that may
await me. Be thou with me with tby inviſible pre-
ſence; watch over my immortal ſoul, and ſtrengthen
it in every temptation of deſpondency, impatience,
and ingratitude; which I * may chance to fall into
:: 63) to bring.
301
towards thee; oh thou eternal heavenly love, my
Crearor, my Father my God! God! God! -
Now his feelings became lo violent, that he
was unable to continue any regular ſeries of thoughts.
He Aung 64) himſelf with his fáce 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 formerly uſed to ſolace him-
ſelf, on every work of his hands, which he had
made by the ſweat of his brow. Theſe objects cauſe
ed him the ſame feelings, as if he had been obliged
to leave ſo many friends. And at laſt when he per-
ceived his lamas grazing at the foot of the hill, he
was obliged, to turn away his face, in order to keep
to the reſolution, he had taken to depart.
At laſt the ſtruggle was over. He took courage,
and with open arms, as if he would embrace the
whole country and all the objects in it, he cried
aloud: farewell, ye witneſſes of my paft ſufferings !
fare ye well! - which laſt word was loft in loud
groans. Now he once more lifted up his eyes to
heaven, and ſet out with reſolution on his way to
the fhore.
As he went along he perceived his faithful Poll
64) to fing.
302
flying belide him from tree to 'tree. He could not
withfiand the deſire of taking the bird along with
him; he therefore ſtretched out his hand, crying:
Poll! Poll! and the poor thing hopt down on its
maſter's hand, from whence it ran on 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 oº* clock in the morning, in the ninth year
of his being in this ſolitary iſland, when our friend
went to ſea, the wind blowing freſh and farourable
They had not fail'd far, when they came to a chain
of rocks. i
CHARLOTTE. Oh! tell us firſt, what is a chain
of rock s.
FATHER. Seamen thus call a row of rocks conneco
ted together, which are either hidden 65) under wa-
ter or ſeen here and there above the ſurface. This
chain of rocks ran from one promontory of the iſ.
land above two german miles into the ſea. To get
over them ſeemed dangerous to both; they therefore
ſhifted their fail to give their boat another direction
and thereby to avoid this chain of rocks.
NICOLAS. But how could they know, how far
theſe rocks went into the ſes, as they were covered
with water ?
FATHER, That' they could pſee by the breaking
of the waves, which riſe higher in ſuch places ,
where there are any rocks hid, and foam, becauſe
65) to hide.
303
they are ſtopt and broken 66) by the rocks under-
neath.
They had ſcarce attained the end of this chain
of rocks, when their boat was ſuddenly born 67)
away, as if they had had twenty fails up in the
moſt violent ſtorm. They were both terrified and
made halte to furl their fail, ſuppoſing it to be the
effect of a ſudden bláſt. But to no purpoſe'; the
boat ran with as great rapidity as bofore: and now
they perceived with terror, that they were in the
midſt of a firong current.
FREDERIC. Tell us, what is a current ? !
FATHER. The bottom of the ſea is as uneven
as the ſurface of the continent, and there are moun-
tains hills and vallies, 'as well as upon land; this
makes the waters run with great rapidity towards
ilie lower parts, which forms large rivers in the
midſt of the ſea, as large as our Elbe. Thoſe curi
rents are generally very rapid, and very dangerous
for veſſels, eſpecially for ſmall ones, if they happeni
to fall into them; becauſe the 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 liay in his ifo
land! I thought ſome miſchief would befall him a-
gain. . .
FATHER. This time it was not forwardneſs or
levity that impelled him to this voyage. On the
66) to break. 67) bear.
304
contrary his motives were the moſt reaſonable. Thus
all what now befell 68) him, he might look upon
as ſent by God, and he was now quite reſign'd. .
They both now exerted all their ſtrength with
their oars in order to get the boat out of the cure
rent; but in vain! An irreliſtible force carried them
away with the ſwiftneſs of an arrow, and now
they ſaw nothing more of their iſland, except tho
hills. Their deſtruction ſeemed now inevitable; for
in leſs * than half * an hour the tops of the higheſt
mountains would be likewiſe out of ſight; and let
the violence of the current ſooner or later ſubfide, it
would then be impoſſible for them to find their way
back again to the iſland, becauſe they had no com-
pals.
FREDERIC. No - ?
FATHER. No compaſs, I ſay. Nicolas , who is
to be captain of a ſhip, will tell you what that is.
NICOLAS. (laughing) If I knew but all a good
failor ſhould know, as well as that! - a compaſs,
Frederic, is a magnetic needle in a little round box -
FREDERIG. Ay, but what is a magnetic needle ?
NICOLAS. That is a needle made of freel, which
Las been rubbed on a certain ftone, called a loadlio.
ne or a magnet, by which it acquires a wonderful
quality, to wit: that it always points towards the
North - that way – towards Wandsbeck. By this
compaſs the marniers ſteer their courſe, even when
they ſee nothing but ſky and water; elle they would
68) to befall.
305
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?,
FREDERIC. Yes! I do, now pleaſe to go on!
FATHER. As. Robinson had not ſuch a compaſs,
again, as ſoon as he had entirely loſt fight of the il-
land. And how terrible muft his fluation then be ?
To be tolled about on the wide ocean in a ſmall
unſafe boat, and to have proviſions only for a few
But here we may plainly perceive, what a. va.
luable and great treaſure true piety and good conf.
cience are in need and danger! If Robinson did not
polleſs them, how could he have born 69) the op-
preſling burthen of this new difitreſs? He would
have fallen into deſpair and made an end of his pi-
tiful ļife to avoid periſhing with hunger in a flow
and dreadful manner..
His companion, whoſe piety was not yet ſo well
grounded, nor fortified by ſo many and long ſufle-
rings, as his maſter's, was very near deſpairing. Un-
able to work any longer, and quite dejected he flung
down his oar, and with a pietous 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 mildneſs, and en-
deavour'd to encourage him; then he reproved him
in a friendly tone for his want of truſt in the all
69) to bear.
(20)
306
directing divine providence, and reminded him of *
what he had taught him upon this ſubject. „Åre
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 eſcape his power by throwing yourſelf into
the ſea ? Know, in conſiderate young man, that your
immortal ſoul will be for ever a ſubject in the im-
menſe empire of God, and that it can not poſibly
be happy, if it * leaves this life as a rebel againſt
God: and does not wait, till it be * called by its
Creator! 56
Friday was ſenſible of the truth of this remon-
ſtrance and aſhamed of his deſpondency. On Robin-
son's exhortations, he took up his oar again, and
both continued to work with vigour, though they
had not the leaft hopes, that it would be to any pur-
poſe. 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 ſhort-
fighted 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
307
tops of ſome monntains, and at length only* * the
ſummit of a ſingle one, the highelt in the iſland,
ſo that they now lofi all poſſible hopes of ſaving
themſelves!
But when all human aſhifiance vaniſhes, when
the calamity 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 divi-
ne providence appears moli vifibly, to interpole, and
to ſave us by ſuch means, as we could in no wiſe
foreſee. This was the caſe now, Whilft Robinson
himſelf had given up all hopes of life, and left off
rowing, being quite exhauſted with fatigue, he ſud-
denly perceived, that the rapid motion of the boat
began to abate. He looked into the water, and
found it leſs troubled, -than it had been before. And
looking a ſecond time on the ſurface of the water,
he was convinced, that the current was liere divid-
ed, and that the largeli arm of it ran to the North,
whilft the other, which was leſs rapid, and on
which their boat was now hoating, turned towards
the ſouth.
With unſpeakable joy he now cried to his com.
panion, who was almoſt dead: „Cheer up, Friday!
God Almighty will have us preſerved!“ Then he
Shew'd him the viſible foundation of his hope; and
ſhouting for joy, they both took up their oars again,
which they had juft before dropt, being quite (pent
70) with fatigue. Encouraged by the unexpected ho.'
pes of life they labour'd with unſpeakable vigour
70) to ſpend.
308
againſt the ſtream, and perceived with infinite fatiſ-
faction, that their endeavours were not without ſuc-
ceſs. Robinson, who from a long ſeries of miſfor-
tunes was accufiom'd to fix his attention on every
particular, obſerved, that the wind would alſo be
advantageous to them: he therefore immediately un-
furled his fail, which the wind preſently filled, and
as they both uſed all their efforts with their cars,
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 71) aloud for joy, 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, except ſome
little black ſpots on the horizon.
FREDERIC. Horizon? what's that?
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?
FREDERIG. Yes!
FATHER. Now that circle, where the earth
ſeem to have an end, and the ſky to begin, is cal-
led the horizon. You will hear more about it in a
Chort time.
Our cheerful navigators rowed with ſo much
{pirit, and the wind blew 72) lo favorably for them
71) to weep. 72) blow.
309
Y
,
towards the eaſtſide of the iſlavid', to which they
were failing, that they could in a ſhort time ſee the
mountains again. „Cheer up! cried Robinson to
his companion, who was ſitting in the fore-part
of the boat, with his back to the iſland ; cheer up,
I'riday; 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 willing
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!
310
TWENTY FIRST EVENING.
(Some of the children ſpeaking at once.)
Oh, make haſte, dear Papa, that we may learn,
what has befallen poor Robinson !
: FATHER. Juſt when he thought himſelf in faſe-
ty, he met with a new miſfortune, as you have alrea-
dy heard, and which was likely to have proved more
fatal, than that which they had juſt before eſca-
ped. The boat ſtuck 73) faſt all at once, and the
waves began to ruſh into it. Now if the boat had
been ſtopt by ſome pointed rock, they were in all
probability loli.
Robinson immediately began ſounding the ground
with his oar, 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.
75) to ſtick.
311
They now uſed all their firength, 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, as he has got wet feet.
FATHER, Vhen people are ſo harden'd by an
active and 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 win-
ter?
FATHER. A proof, that our manner of living
has already harden'd you a little. —
. 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 fail, that they might be the more able to go-
vern their boat. Thus they rowed along the land.
bank, in hopes, of coming ſoon to the end of it.
But they were obliged to row four long hours, be-
fore they could ſee their hopes accompliſhed : for
this fand - bank ran ſo far from the North to the
ſouth. Robinson perceived that it reached to the
very pláce, where he had ſuffer'd ſhip-wreck nine
years ago, and that it was conſequently the ſame,
on which his ſhip had ſtranded at that time.
FREDERIC What is ſtranded, pray ?
THEOPHILUS. Oh, wliy do you always inter-
rupt Papa ?
FATHER. Why, it is laudable in him to deſire
318
to be inſtructed! But you are wrong, my dear Theo-
philus, to blame him for it! Beware of that for the
future! – To ftrand, dear Frederić, is when a 'veſ-
ſel runs on ſuch a fand - bank or upon a rock, and
can not get off again.
FREDERIC. Thank you, dear Papa!
FATHER. At laſt they diſengaged themſelves from
the fand - bank, and rowed with all their might' to-
wards the iſland, which they could now fee very
plainly. At laſt they reached the ſhore, whien the
fun ſhot 74) his * laſt beams on the tops of the
mountains, and landed quite fatigued, tho' exceed-
ingly glad of their happy preſervation. Neither of
them had taſted a bit of any thing the whole day.
They could not therefore wait till their return to
the caſtle, but lat down on the ſea-ſhore and made
a hearty meal of the proviſions, they had taken on
board. Hereupon they drew 75) the boat into a
ſmall creek — you know what that is, I ſuppoſe ?
JOHN. 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 ſay, the boat into a creek, and went home
carrying back every thing they had had in the boat. –
NICOLAS. Oh you have not done I hope?
FATHER.' Robinson and Friday have betaken
themſelves to reſt, and the latter is already in a pro-
: found ſleep, whilſt the former is offering his hear-
ty thanks to God for his new preſervation. We
might therefore finiſh for to day; but it being yet
74) to ſhoot. 75) to draw.
313
foon, I will paſs over the night and relate, what
happen'd the following day.
„ Welli, Friday,” ſaid Robinson at breakfaſt,
,, have you a mind to make a ſecond trial with me,
to day, as we did yefterday?"
FRIDAY. God forbid i
ROBINSON. So you are determined, to end your
days with me in this iſland ?
Faidar. If my father were but here!. . .
ROBINSON. So your father is ſtill alive?
ERIDAY. Unleſs he died ſince I left him!
Here he laid down the potatoe he had in his
hand, aud a couple of large tears roll'd down his
cheeks. This put Robinson in mind of his own
parents, and lie was alſo obliged to wipe his eyes.
Both obſerved a mournful filence for ſome time.
ROBINSON. Take confort, Friday! Your father
is probably yet alive, and pleaſe God, we will hort-
ly go over and bring him hither. :
This joy was too great for poor Friday! He
jumped up roaring aloud, flung himſelf on Robin-
son's knees, embraced them, and could ſcarce utter
a word for ſobbing. De
„My children! cried the mother, what an ex-
ample of filial piety in a ſavage! in a ſavage, who
has no obligations to his father for any education,
or any inftructions, 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
314
mult' le not be -- if there were any ſuch, among us
civilized people — who could fiifle this innate im-
pulſe, and grow indifferent to his parents, nay even
cauſe them purpoſely grief and forrow! If you ſhould
ever meet with ſuch a monlter: oh never remain
with him under one roof! fee from him, as from
a peli lo *' fociety, as a person, capable of committing
any other act of inhumanity, and whom the judge
went of God will follow at his heels! -
When Friday had recovered himſelf a little, Ro-
binson aſked him, whether he knew the paſſage ho-
mé ſo well, that they needed not * expoſe themſel-
ves 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,
when they killed men ?
FRIDAY. Oh yes!.
T
FRIDAY. I did, alas ! I did not know then ,
that there was any thing bad in it!
ROBINSON. On which ſide of the iſland did you
uſe to land?
FRIDAY. Always on the ſouth ſide, becauſe it
was the neareſt, and alſo becauſe there are cocoa-
trees.
By this Robinson faw. more plainly,' how much
reaſon he had to thank God for having ſuffer'd him
to be caſt on the north-ſide of the illand rather than
316
on the ſouthern, where he would in a ſhort time
have fallen a prey to the favages. Hereupon he re-
peated' 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 poffible , becauſe their
gardening, for which it was now the ſeaſon,, de-
manded their immediate preſence.
At this they now began Robinson and Friday
dug 76) as if for a wagar, and in their hours of re-
laxation they never neglected, to make ſome uſeful
infirunients. Robinson, whoſe power of invention
and patience were equally inexhauſtible, even ſuc-
ceeded in making a rake, tho' he was obliged to
make the holes for the teeth — you may eaſily gueſs,
how ſlowly! with a pointed ſtone. Friday on the
contrary made by degrees two ſpades of every 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 embelliſhing 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 fuftenance and in providing 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 pleaſures than the
mere animal pleaſures of the ſenſes are. But as ſoon
as they had provided for their ſuſtenance and ſafety,
76) to dig.
316
.
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 embelliſh-
ing his garden. He divided it according to a pro-
per plan into regular quarters; theſe quarters he a-
gain divided by ſtraight paths , made with the line,
into beds; he planted hedges, arbours 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 bread-
tree. 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 ftared exceedingly, be-
cauſe he could not comprehend, what it was for, *
till Robinson explain'd the matter to him.
; Now they planied potatoes and lowed indian
corn in great quantities, and as the land had perhaps
not been uſed fince the creation of the world , eve-
ry thing grew luxuriantly.
At times they alſo went out a * fiſhing, be..
cauſe Friday, as I bave already mention'd had made
nets for that purpoſe during the laſt rainy ſeaſon.
They never caught 77) 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 ſa-
77) to catch,
317
tiſfy our wants ; and it is wicked to take away the
lives of any more of thoſe harmleſs creatures, than
we want for our daily fuftenance. ..
On theſe occaſions they generally uſed to bathe
themſelves too; and Robinson could not forbear admi-
ring the aftoniſhing dexterity of Friday in (wim-
ming and diving. He commonly choſe ſome rocky
ſhore, againſt which the furious waves were brea-
king in a frightful manner; into theſe.he ſportingly
jumped down and remained ſome minutes under
water, ſo that poor Robinson often was in the grea-
teſt uneaſineſs about him; then he came up again on
the ſurface of the water, laid himſelf on his back
and lay rolling on the waves, playing all ſorts of
tricks, the circumſtantial deſcription of which would
appear almofi in credible. 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, becauſe 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 underſtanding and in many other things, the lacz
ter knew many little arts, that had been hitherto
unknown to his maſter, and that were now of great
ufe to them. He could make all ſorts of tools out
318
of bones, ftones, 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 found by chance; a raſp, of coral;
a knife, of a ſhell: a file, of the ſharp ſkin of a fiſh.
With theſe he made a great many pieces of furniture,
which greatly encreaſed the conveniencies of their
lives.
Friday ſhew'd his maſter moreover, to make
dough of the fruit of the bread - tree, which was al-
moſt as nouriſhing as our bread and even ſomething
like it in talie, which was a matter of particular
importance. Tlie ſavages commonly eat this dough
raw; but Robinson baked it firſt on a hot ſtone,
and uſed it afterwards as we do bread..
Beſides this Friday taught 78) 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 ma-
king new trials , pounded ſome of them between
two ſtones, after they were roaſted, mixed the pow.
der 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, taſting it, he found
it was real chocolate.
:78) to teach.
319
TREDERIC. Oh!- Chocolate ?.
. .
FATHER, Yes, except that ſpices and ſugar we-
re wanting in it. – Thus the proviſions of our good
Robinson encreaſed by degrees, and with them the
ſource of his pleaſures. But to his praiſe I muft ſay,
that he perſevered nevertheleſs in his late reſolution,
and continued to live as moderately and as ſimply,
as he had begun.
Now they both made long and frequent excur-
fions through the iſland, eſpecially on ſuch days ,
when the wind was ſo, 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.
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 follow-
ing (cruple aroſe in Robinson's heart: ſuppoſe, they
ſhould treat me as an enemy? ſuppoſe they ſhould
not mind the remonftrances of Friday and I ſhould
fall a ſacrifice to their abominable and inhuman ap-
petite? 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 lup-
preſſed all his fearful apprehenfions, relyed on the
320
honefty of his friend, and reſolved in the name 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
falten'd it to a pole, they had drove 79) into the
ground.' They now ſpent the evening in roaſting
potatoes, and preparing other proviſions , which
they intended to take along with them, that they
might have enough for eight days at leaſt. On this
occaſion Friday Chew'd his malier, that he was not
quite ignorant 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 wood, and
then' a layer of ſtones alternately. Then he ſet fire
to the wood. After which he held 80) the young
lama over the fire to finge off the hair; this done
he ſcraped it with a ſhell ſo clean, as if it had been
[calded in boiling water. With the ſame.fhell he
open'd the body of the animal, and took out the
infide. Whilſt this was doing, * all the wood was
buïned to alhes, the hole was thoroughly heated and
the ſtones were red hot. Upon which he threw all
the ſtones together with the aſhes out of the hole,
as faſt as he could , laid ſome of the hot fiones on
the bottom of the hole, and cover'd them with
green cocoa - leaves. Upon theſe he placed the lana,
79) to drive. 80) to hold.
321
arid häving cover'd it again with leaves and put all
the hot fiones upon it, he filled the hole entirely
with earth.
Some hours after he open'd the hole again and
and took out the lama. Robinson, who taſted a bit
of it, confeſſed, that it was more tender, more jui-
cy and more ſavonry, 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 roalt their dogs.
Father. It is fo.
THEOPHILUS. Do they then eat dogs ?
John. To be ſure! Did not we read ſo lalt.
winter: and the Engliſhmen, who, tafied 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 fleſh, but feed only upon
fruits, ſo that their fleſi may taſte quite differently
from that of ours. . .
i
Now, my children, all the preparations for their
intended 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. . .
(21)
322
TWENTY SECOND EVENING,
FATHER. Robinson and Friday had ſcarcely ſlept
an hour, when the former was ſuddenly awoke 81)
by à violent thunder - ſtorm. The thunder rumbled
et roared ſo dreadfully, that it made ţhe earth trem-
ble. „Do you hear that, Friday ? " ſaid Robinson,
awaking his bed- fellow. „Good God!“ ſaid Frie
day; ,, if we had been at ſea now 16. 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; Ro-
binson 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 his ladder.
Friday follow'd his maſter's example without know-
ing, what he was going to doº
81) lo ayyake.
323
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. Robinson
and Friday were therefore obliged, to retire into
their caye.
Now the ſtorm yaged, 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 guis: yet at laſt he doubted whether,
it might not all be thunder ? During the whole
night he nevertheleſs indulged himſelf with the plea-
fing thought, that there was ſome ſhip near to deli-
ver him; that it might perliaps eſcape the danger it
was now in, and carry him with his faithful Fri.
day to Europe. More than ten times he attempted
to make a freſh fire, but the inceſant rain always
quenched it again. He could therefore do nothing
but pray for the people in difireſs, which he did
with the greateſt devotion.
THEOPHILUS. Is not he then ſo much afraid
of thunder now, as he formerly was?
FATHER. You ſee, this fooliſh fear has left him
now, and what may be the reaſon of it?
John. Becauſe he has a good conſcience now.
FATHER. Very right! and beſides he is now
firmly convinced, that God is a God of love, and
324
that nothing can befall thoſe, who are good and
tighteous, but what muſt in the end promote their
real happineſs. . . ,
. The ſtorm did not ſubſide till break of day;
and Robinson in company with Friday ran between
fear and hope towards the ſea - Chore, to ſee whether
* what he had fuppoſed, was true or not? But the
firſt thing they ſaw., was extremely grievous to both,
eſpecially to poor Friday; for the form had torn 82)
the boat from tlie ſtake' to which it was faſtened and
carried it out into the open ſea. It was lamentable,
to behold the affliction of Friday, when he found
himſelf diſappointed in the pleaſing hope of ſeeing
his father again ! He turn'd as pale as death, and
ſtood for ſome time quite ſpeechleſs, his ſtaring looks
fixed on the ground and his whole loul ſeemed to
be abſent. Then he broke out into a flood of. tears,
wrung 83) his hands, beat his breaſt and tore 84)
his hair.
: Robinson, who from his own miſfortunes had
learn'd to ſympathize with the unhappy, pitied his
diſtreſs, and endeavour'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 ſer-
vice the ſtorm, that is the oauſe of it, may be in
its conſequences to ns or to others ?“ – „Fine ad.
vantage ! “ replied Friday a little bitter; „, it has des
prived us of our boat; that's all! ~ " So, replied
Robinson, becauſe you and I, both ſhort-fighted
82) to tear. 83) to wring: 84) to tear. -
-325
beings , can perceive no other effect of the ſtorm but
the loſs of our boat: you imagine, that God the all-
wiſe director of all things had no other reaſon for
ſending it? Senſeleſs young man, how dare you *
judge of the deſigns of God Almighty! - .
„ Ay, but of what ſervice could it be to us.
ſaid Friday. Is that a queftion, which I can anſwer ?
ſaid Robinson. Am I omniſcient, to be able to under-
Stand the deſigns of the ruler of the world ? I may in.
deed ſuppoſe ſomething: but who can tell me, whe-
ther I have gueſſed right? Perhaps there were ſo
many unwholeſome vapours gathered together in our
iſland, 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
defiroy'd ! Perhaps – But why ſhould I repeat my
fuppofitions, as it is enough for us to know, that
it is God, who commands the fiorm, and that this
God is a moft wife and bountiful Father towards all
his creatures ? .
Friday recollected himſelf, repented of his raſh-
nels,, and ſubmitted to the will of Providence. In
the mean time Robinson's eyes were wandering about
on the ſurface of the ocean, whetlier 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 repeated claps,
which he miſiook for the report of cannon liad cer-
tainly been nothing, but thunder. Quite dejected at
finding himſelf deceived in his agreeable hopes, he
returned home.
326
But he could find neither reft nor peace at home,
becauſe he always fancied he ſaw a ſhip at an an-
chor near his iſland. Therefore he went out again,
and aſcended the hill, from whence he could over-
look the weſtern coaſt: but he could not diſcover,
what he had ſeen in his agreeble dream. Still diſ-
ſatiſfied and uneaſy he ran to another hill, that was
much higlier, in order to explore the eaſtern 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 ac-
compliſhment of his dream!
ALL. Oh dear!
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 large one. * My good children,
you will ſpare me the vain attempts of deſcribing
his joy and raptures. He ran almoſt breathleſs back
to his cave, ſeized his arms, without which he nea
ver 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 his broken words, that the ſavages were
come. He therefore took up his arms likewiſe, and
ran after his maſter with all ſpeed.
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
327
anchor. It was but here that Friday was informed,
what was the matter. Robinson Chew'd him the
ſhip at a diſtance, which made him ftare exceedingly
becauſe he could ſee very plainly, notwithſtanding
the great diſtance, that it was an hundred times big.
ger, * than any he had ever ſeen before.
Robinson did not know, what * to do with
himſelf for joy. Sometimes he caper'd about, fome-
times he halloo'd, and then again he fung himſelf
into Friday's arms and begged him with tears in
his eyes , to rejoice allo!
Now they were going to Europe – to Ham-
burgh! Then he ſhould ſee, how the people lived
there! What houſes they could build! How conve-
niently, how quietly, how agreeably people lived
there! - The torrent of his words was inexhauſti,
ble. He would perhaps have continued ſpeaking till
the next day without intermiſſion if he had not re-
collected, 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 perceiv.
ed, that his endeavours were fruitleſs, though the
wind had changed Gince the ſtorm, and blew 85)
now from the iſland towards the ſhip. He therefore
deſired his friend to make a fire in all poffible haſte,'
which might be ſeen by the people on board. Friday
did ſo and Robinson made the flame of it riſe as high
85) to blow.
328
as a tree. And now he ſtood gazing on the ſhip,
becauſe he expected every moment, to ſee a boat
row towards the ſhore. But there was no boat to
be ſeen... . i
At laft, when the fire had burnt a whole hour
in vain, Friday offer'd to ſwim to the ſhip, noth-
withſtanding its diſtance, and beg the people to co-
me on fhore. Upon which Robinson embraced him
and begged liim by all means to be careful of his
life. Now Triday ſtript off his clothes, that were
made of mats; took a green branch in his moutli,
and boldly jumped into the water. Robinson fent
the warmeſt wiſhes for his preſeryation along with
lim. ...
CHARLOTTE. Pray, what did he mean by the
green branch ? . . . . . .
FATHER. A green branch is among the ſavages
a ſign of 'peace ; and they never moleft any one,
who thus approaches them. He took it along with
him for his ſecurity.
Friday at laſt arrived at the ſhip, [wam 86) a
couple of times round about it, and cried out hal-
loo! But no body anſwer'd him. At laſt he perceive
ed 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 deck', he was frighten'd at the fight of an ani..
mal, the like of which he had never ſeen before.
It was black and rough; and the moment it got
86) tó ſwim
329
light of Triday, it :lifted up its 'voice, the like of
which Friday had never heard before. Preſenely af-
ter it was again filent, and ſeenied ſo friendly, that
the fear, it had at firſt excited in Friday, began to,
ſubſide. It came creeping towards him in the moſt
hundle poſture, wagg’d its lail, and whined ſo la-
mentably, that: Friday ſoon perceived, it ſought 87)
his protection. He therefore ventured, when it had
crept 88) cloſe to his feet, to ftrocke it, and it ſeem-
ed almoſt mad for joy.
Friday now walked all over the deck, and, coni-
tinued calling out with a loud voice: but no body
appeared. Whilſt he was faring at the wonderful
things he ſaw upon deck, with his back turned
towards the fiairs, that go down between decks,
he ſuddenly received ſuch a liard and violent puſh
from behind, that he fell down at his full length.
Getting up again and looking behind him, lie vvas
almoft petrified with terror. at the figlit of a pretty
large animal with long crooked horns, and a very
long beard, riſing on its linder legs, to give him a
ſecond wellcome. Friday gave a -lond outcry, and
without heſitating a moment, jumped over board
into the ſea. ...i
• The above mention'd black animal, which you
probably know by the deſcription
FATHER. Very right! - Well, this ſpaniel fol.
low'd Fridays example and juniped over board, in
order to ſwim after him. Friday, who lieard ſome
$7) to ſeek 89) to crecpa!
330
thing paddling behind him , imagined the horned
monſter to be purſuing him, and was ſo terrified,
that he was ſcarce able to ſwim, and ready to fink
to the bottom: a freſh inſtance, how prejudicial cow-
ardice is, and how it expoſes us to dangers, which
we might otherwiſe liavė eſcaped!
He ſcarce dared to look behind him, and when
he had recover'd himſelf a little, he [wam ſo faſt,
that'the dog could ſcarce follow him. At laſt he
reached the ſhore and fell quite ſpeechleſs and ex-
hauſted at Robinson's feet. The dog landed foon
after him.
Robinson uſed all poſſible means to recover the
faithful friend of his ſolitary life. He embraced,
ſtroked, and ſhook 89) him, calling him aloud by
his name. But it laſted ſeveral minutes, before he
had the joy of ſeeing Friday open his eyes, or give
apy other ſign of returning life. At laſt being 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 ata
tempted to kill him afterwards; and that he believed
this monfier * to be the maſter of this wooden floa-
ting mountain, becauſe he had ſeen no man upon it.
Robinson liften'd to him with great ſurpriſe,
He concluded from his deſcription, that the horned
monſter was nothing but a goat, and from the refi
89) to ſhake.
331
of the circumfiances 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, what was become of them. If they had
ſaved 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 he recollected, that the wind had ſud-
denly ſhifted from the Weſt to the Eaſt during the
tempelt. This ſeemed to clear up the whole miſtery.
Theſe people, thought he, have certainly been
hinder'd from reaching our Chore by the wind's ſhif-
ting ſo ſuddenly to the eaſt. The ſtorm muſt have
driven them weliwards, and they muſt either be lofi
or got into the current — or driven to ſome weſterly
iſland. God grant the lali may be true, ſaid he figh-
ing; and communicated his ſuppoſitions to Friday,
who found them probable likewiſe.
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 belt thing,
we can do, is, to ſave as many things from the ſhip
as poſtible. But how? We have no boat more!
Here he felt the loſs of the boat almoſt as grievonſ-
ly, as Friday had felt it before. He rubbed hus fore-
head, to find out ſome means to ſupply the loſs of
it; but he could find none;for a good while. Ta
make another boat, would have taken up too much
time. He would not venture to ſwim to the Chip,
332
becauſe it was too far: and then what could he have
carried along with him, when * 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 Robinson! A raft, he thought, would be
ſoonelt 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 raſes
lying on the Elbe near the gate ?
I'REDERIC. Oh yes, a great many beams fa-
fien'd together, 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 Chip,
and fetch as many things, as they could. Upon which
he agreed with Friday, who was the ſwifteſt on
foot, to run home and fetch proviſfions for a wliole
day, together with all the ropes and other tools
they had, whilft Robinson would fiay there, and
cut down trees to make a raft.
It was almoſt night before Friday returned. Ro-
binson in the mean time diverted himſelf exceeding-
ly with the dog, who was very dear and eſtimable
10 liim as his european countryman. The dog alſo
ſeemed no leſs rejoiced and of his own accord play'd
all the tricks before Irim, which he had learned.
When Friday returned, Robinson gave him the firſt
333
portion of the victuáls, tho' he himſelf had not taſta
ed any thing the whole day :
: 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
refili any longer.
NICOLAS. That I dare lay, for they had been
up the whole night before! :-
Dick. And had run about ſo much that day;
particularly Friday!
FATHER. They therefore laid down on the
grals, 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.
534
TWENTY THIRD EVENING.
I ATHER. The dawn of day had ſcarce redden'd
the utmoſt verge of the eaſtern horizon, when Ro-
binson rouſed his companion, in order to finiſh the
work, which they had begun the day before. They
worked during the day with ſo much aſliduity, that
by evening they got their raft in readineſs.
They had joined a double row of beams, partly
with ropes and parıly 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 precaution, to make it cloſe by the ſea-
fide and on rollers , that they niight without loſs of time
and without any great trouble puſh it into the water.
At break of day the next morning the ſea begán
lucklily ebbing, and they did not loſe a moment's
time, to launch their raft into the ſea, and go with
the tide to the firanded vellel; and in leſs than half
an hour they were there.
335
How Robinson's heart jumped for joy, when he
ſaw the large european fhip before him! He had al.
moſt killed the fide of it for joy, becauſe it came
from his country and had been built and brought
hither by Europeans! But alas! theſe beloved Euroa,
peans themſelves were not to be found, and had per.
haps been ſwallow'd up by the waves! This afflicting
thought highly grieved poor Robinson's heart. He
would willingly have given half his future life, if
he could have recover'd the loft crew, and have ſaid
with them to Europe! But that being an impoffibi-
lity, he had nothing better to do, than to ſave as
much as he could of the loading, and employ it to
his greater conveniency.
THEOPHILUS. But might be take any of thoſe
goods that were not his own?
FATHER. What do you thinkę John, miglio
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. Therefore he might alſo without any
ſcruple appropriate to himſelf, whatever he needed
moft, 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 a-
greed upon among ſome civilized nations, that the
goods layed are always divided into three Chares.
336
One Clare falls to the owners, 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
Covereign of the conntry.
Nicolas. To the ſovereignt? Why does he get
any of them?
... FATHER. This is a queſtion to which I can not
at preſent give you a very ſatiſfactory anſtrer. How-
ever I may tell you ſomething, which you can alrea-
dy comprehend. The King or tlie Prince , or what-
ever title ile ſovereign of a country. may have, main-
tailis certain people on the ſea- coaſt, to take care,
that nothing be robbed from ſuch a firanded vellel,
and that every thing, which it taken out of it, be *
carried to a place of ſafety. Witbout this precail-
tiou the merchant, to whom the cargo belongs, woulil
feldom get any thing back again, becauſe the gooils
would be either ſpoiled or liolen. Now the people
appointed for this purpoſe, are paid by the ſovereign
of the country; it is therefore juſt that thoſe ſhonld
pay for it, who reap the advantage of this uſeful
eliabliſhment. It has therefore been agreed upon,
iliat a third part of the goods faved ſhould fall to
the frae of the fovereign and this regulation is call.
ed: the l'aws of wreck and ſalvage.
Conſequently Robinson had a right to claim two
thirds of the goods, which he could get on ſhore,
as his lawful property and uſe them as he ſhould
think fit.
Joun. Two thițds ?
FATHER. Yes, one for his trouble and labour,
337
the ſecond as Cole and lappful, fovereign 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
neyer was in any body's poſſeſſion before, naturally
belongs to him, who firſt takes polleſfion of it. And
that was the caſe here. .. .!..
What Robinson mofily wiſhed for after recove-
ring from the violent ſenſations of joy at the fight of
an european thip, was, that ſhe might be unſhatter'd
and get afloat again. In this caſe he was firmly re-
ſolved to go on board of her with Friday, 'arid fail
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 veſel and without any
knowledge of navigation. He therefore went round
the veſſel on his raſt, to examine the bottom under
the water; but he ſoon found to his great forrový,
that it was not poſſible ſhe *.could get afloat again ;
for the fiorm had caſt her between two rocks, where
ſhe was ſo jamm'd ill, that ſhe could neither move
backward or forward. Here ſhe muft therefore re-
main, till the raging waves ſhould by degrees daſh
her to pieces. Robinson finding himſelf fruſtrated in
his bopes, hafiend on board to ſee, what she cargo
confified of and whether that were yet undamaged.
The fright, which poor Friday gọt before, was fiill
ſo freſh in his memory., that he could carce reſolve
to follow his maſter upon deck. However he fol-
low'd him; but not without trembling, particular-
(22)
338
ly 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 fpi-
ritleſs, as if unable to rile, becauſe no body had gi-
ven it any food for three days. Robinson, who
ſuſpected the cauſe of its weakneſs, firſt took care to
find ſome food for the poor ſtarved animal. As he
was perfectly well acquainted with the inward con-
firuction of a ſhip, he foon found what he look'd
for, and had the pleaſure to ſee, that the goat de-
voured the fodder, lie had flung before her with
great eagerneſs. In the mean time Friday ſtared at
the figure of this unknown animal.
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, piftols,
ſwords and cutlaſſes; moreover hatchets, ſaws, chi-
lels, gimlets, ralps, planes, hammers, iron bars,
nails, knives , ſciNors, needles; there were pots, die
ſhes, plates, ſpoons, fire-tongs, bellows, porringers
and other wooden, iron, pewter and copper kitchin
untenfils; laftly there were whole chefts full of clo-
thes, linen, ſtockings, ſhoes, boots and a hundred
other things, for every one of which our raviſh'd
Robinson would willingly have given his long for-
339
gotten lump of gold, if one or other of theſe things
had been offer'd him for ſale.
· 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 90)
for joy, and as a little child he ſnatched every thing
he ſaw, and threw it down again as ſoon as his
eyes fell on an object, that ſeemed more deſirable.
At laſt he was going down into the hold: but he
found it full of water, becauſe the Chip had ſprung
a leak. .
Now he began to muſe with himſelf, what he
ſhould bring with him this time; but for a confide-
rable time he could not reſolve upon any thing.
Now he thought one thing the moſt needful, and then
again another, and therefore he often rejected, wliat
he had juſt before choſen, and 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 Chot; 2) Two firelocks, two brace of piſtols, two
(words and two cutlaſes; 3) Double cloathing from
head to foot for himſelf and Friday; 4) Two dozen
of Chirts; 5) Two hatchets, two laws, two planes,
a couple of iron bars, hammers and ſome other
tools; 6) ſome books, paper, ink and pens; 7) A
tinder-box, with matches tinder and flints; 8) A
caſk full of biſcuits; 9) fome Cail - cloth; and 10)
the goat.
go) to weep.
340
- FREDERIC. Oh! he had no great need of the
goat!
-... EATHER. That's true, Frederic, but the goat
had great need of him, and Robinson was too com.
paſſionate towards all living creatures ,i' to leave the
before his return, particularly, as he had room enoughi
on his raft for the moſt neceſſary things. He there,
fore took her along with him. :
. On the contrary he left ſomething, which the
people in Europe would have ſeized the firſt of all::
a ſmall.calk full of gold-duft, and a box full of dia-
monds, which he liad found in the Captain's cabin.
It never once ftruck him to take them with him;
becauſe he could find. no nianner of uſe for them.
He had ſpent ſo much time in ſearching, ope-
ning, unpacking, rejoicing, chooſing and loading,
that he had but an hour till the returning ride. 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:110"fetch'd a piece of ſmoak'd
beef, a couple of herrings, Come biſcuit, butter cheeſe
and a bottle of wine, , then he put all theſe things
upon the table in the cabin, and ſat down in com-
pany 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 fit at a
pr oper table, on a chair, and have a plate, knife
and fork to help themſelves with: and to compleat
341
all, the victuals, particularly bread, which he had
ſo often longed for in vain, - Oh! you can not
imagine how all this delighted him! To have a com-
pleat idea of all the joy he felt, one could, like him
be nine whole years deprived of all ſuch victuals
and conveniencies.
Friday was ſo little uſed to the european_mar-
ner of living, that he did not know, how to hand-
le a knife and fork. Robinson Chew'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
accufiom'd up to his ear, and the handle of the fork
to his mouth. He 'would by no mean's drink any
of the wine, which Rohinson offer'd him, becauſe
his palate, which had hitherto been uſed to nothing
but water, could not bear the ſtrength of any liquor.
The biſcuit on the contrary was very much to his
taſte.
Now the tide was coming in; they both there-
fore 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 halien'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 Robinson did to ſatiſfy his curioſity,
was this: he ſtept behind a buſh, put on a ſhirt
fiockings and ſhoes and a complete officer's uniform;
then putting a laced hat on his head, and a ſword
342
by his fide he ſuddenly appear'd before the aſtoniſh-
ed eyes of Friday. The poor fellow quite ftupified
ſtarted back ſome paces, becauſe at firſt fight he real-
ly doubted, whether he ſaw his maſter, or ſome
other fupernatural being. Robinson, who could
not forbear (miling at his afioniſhment, kindly reach.
ed him his hand, aſſuring him, that he was fiill
the ſame Robinson and his friend, tho' his clothes
and circumſtances were altered. After which he took
a whole failor's dreſs, ſhew'd him, how to put on
every particular piece, and deſired him to retire be-
hind the buſh and dreſs 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,
a6 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 allo with his jacket, which he
tried to button behind. By little and little he per-
ceived his miliake and corrected it, till after many
fruitleſs attempts he at length got ready with his
whole dreſs.
When he ſaw himſelf thus changed and perceive
ed, how commodious this dreſs was, and how well
it would preſerve him from the ſtings of the mo!chi.
tos, he began to jump about for joy like a child.
Only the ſhoes did not pleaſe him, becauſe he con-
fidered them as ſuperfluous and inconvenient. He
343
therefore begged leave to pull them off again, which_
Robinson left to his free option.
Now he [hew'd him the uſe of hatchets and
other tools, at the fight of which Friday was beſi-
de himſelf for joy and admiration. They began to
make immediate uſe of thiem, in cutting a ſmall maft
for their raft; that they might for the future uſe a
fail, and not be obliged to wait always for the tide.
Robinson undertook this work alone and ſent Fri-
day 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 muſkets, becauſe he had reſerved to himſelf
the pleaſure of ſurpriſing his friend with the won-
derful effect of gunpowder. When he was now re-
turned, and wondering, that Robinson 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 gi) 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 former ſuperftition of the Toupan
or thunderer ſuddenly revived, and in the firlt mo-
ment of his fright, he thought his maſter was the
92) to draw.
344
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 ariy thing that regards
religion. He therefore no ſooner) perceived Friday's
error but * he was ſorry, that he had not before
acquainted him with * what he inteded to do; and
haftened 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, how 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 Friday, who was
ſtill too fearful, begged him, to do it in his ſtead.
Upon which Robinson fixed a mark at two hundred
feet diſtance, placed himſelf next to Friday, and fir-
ed the piece off.
: 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 ob-
ſerve, he let him conclude, how ſafe they would
be for the future againſt all the attacks of the fava.
ges; ſince they had this artificial thunder and ligh.
tening in their power. From his and all he had
.345
feen on board of the flip, Friday conceived ficha
profound reſpect for all the Europeans, and parti-
cularly for his maſter, that for ſome days he could
not reſume that air of familiarity, 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.
310
TWENTY FOURTH EVENING.
To the great ſatiſfaction of the children the fa-
ther, without making any preface the next evening
purſued his narrative, in the following manner.
Robinſon had never before ſlept 92) ſo v
as that night; for fince 'the firſt day of his ſolitary
abode in this illand , he had never been ſo happy as
die felt himſelf now. Neither is it poſtible, that
man ever felt fincerer gratitude and love for his
heavenly benefactor, to whom he owes his happi-
nels, than he did. When alone, he would often
fall on his knees', and thank his bontiful heavenly
Father for having beſtowed him ſo many things !
He likewiſe endeavour'd to inſtill ſuch pious ſen-
timents of gratitude into the heart of Friday. Be-
fore they went to bed , he taught 93) him the
hymn: Now thank ye all the Lord! and then
92) to ſleep. 93) to teach.
347
they both raiſed their voices to the praiſe of their
ſupreme Benefactor.
The next morning they roſe very early; placed
all their things in a thicket, and covered them with
boughs, in caſe it ſhould happen to rain; and when
the ſea began to ebb, they left the ſhore to go on
board on the wreck.
T'REDERIC. A wreck – what does that fignify? .
FATHER. A ſhip that is ſtranded and partly da-
fh'd to pieces. - As they had the day before brought
off a couple of oars with them, which I forgot io
mention, they now went much quicker, than the
firſt time. They got ſafe on board; and the firſt
thing they did, was, to 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 Chore 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 diffe-
rent things, which he could not take on ſhore at
once. This time his choice was attended with leſs
difficulty, as he had altready carried the moſt neceſla-
ry things on ſhore. Yet he acted again with tha fa-
me precaution, as he had done before.
Among other things he this time reſolved to
take one of the Gx ſmall pieces of cannon on ſhore,
whioh he had found on board of the veſel.
JOHN. A cannon? - Why I think he might
háve taken ſomething more uſeful! :
348
FATHER, So it ſeems to ns., who judge of his
ſituation at a diſtance; whereas Robinson, who con-
fidered it more nearly, found this cannon an ellen-
tial implement to make his mind eaſy. .. . .
Jorn. How ſo? .. :
FATHER. The place, where he firſt depoſited
. what goods he had brought on fhore, was not-for-
lified, 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 deferice he
could make with his firelocks and piftols, in caſe
of an attack; but the idea, that he ſhould then be
again under the diſmal neceſlity of killing ſome of
theſe poor ſavages, made him ſhudder whenever the
thought of it. Now, if he had a cannon, he could
fire a ball over their heads, in caſe they ſhould ap-
proach his illand in their canoes, the fear of which
would make them turn back again. . . . :*
Do you (de, my lad, how unſafe it is to pre-
tend judging of other people's conduct? We very
ſeldom know the motives of other people's actions
how dare we then preſume to judge of them ? A
wiſe man is therefore very flow and cautions in jud.
ging of other people, he will never do it without
Some particular calling, becauſe he lias enough to do
in thinking and judging of his own actions; and for
the future we will do ſo too, my children! .
Beſides the piece of connon Robinson and Fri.
day took this time the following articles on their
raft, a bag full of rye, an other full of barley, and
a third full of peale'; a cheſt of nails and ſcrews: a
349
dozen of hátehets; a barrel of gunpowder, with balls
and ſmall ſhot;,a fail, and a grindfione.
THEOPHILUS. What could he do with that?
FATHER::Sharpen iliis hatchets, knives and other
tools, when they needed it.:. .
:::!THEOPHILUS. Why, had he no ſtones in his
iſland ? ,
.
!:.. .
... FATHEP. Stones iri plentý; but no grindſtones.
Have not you obſerved that theſe are of a particular
ſorti, aríd much fofter than other fiones ?..
..TÁEOPÉILUS Yes, yes! :iin
2. FÅTHËR. Well, he had not as yet met with any
fuch ſoft fione in his iſland; and yet ſuch a grind-
ftone is a very uſeful and neceſſary thing for ſuch',
d's uſe: Charp tools. He therefore preferred it, with-
out any heſitationſ to the gold duſt and diamonds,
which he again. Ieft behind. ' ; .
- Before they returned on fhore, Robinson ex-
amined the ftate of the ſhip, and found, that the
water had riſen ſomething 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 fore-
ſaw., that flie. would be quite dall’d to pieces by
the firſt ſtorm. This made him the more eagar. to
ſave whatever he could of her cargo.
: As the wind now blew 94) towards the land,
they got on Chore 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.
94) to blow.
350
Dick. And for what did he blame himſelf ?
FATHER. For not having carried away the gold
and diamonds.
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 fill alive, and re-
turn to ſee, whether he could not ſave ſomething.
Now if a ſudden form ſhould ariſe and deſtroy tho
ſhip, before he could return to it, and the gold
and jewels ſhould be loft: 95) how thought he,
could I jufiifiy myſelf to the owner, to God, and
my own conſcience, for having ſaved ſuch things
only, as 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 get from being as good as thou oughtſ
to be ?
:
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
ſe he had neglected a duty, which jufily ſeemed la-
cred to him!
At laſt they arrived; but the moment they reach-
ed the ſhore, their lading was near tumbling into
the ſea. As the tide was ftill ebbing, the water near
the ſhore was ſo Challow, that the forepart of the
raft ran at once upon the ſand, and was conſequent.
90) to lore.
361
ly much higher than the hind part, which was on
the water. Robinson and Friday ſtood luckily be-
hind, and could therefore prevent the cargo from
ſlipping into the water.
After having faſten'd every, thing, they were oba
liged to wade thro' the water and mud, to get their
things on ſhore. This they did ſo very expeditiouſ-
ly and carefully, that nothing was loft, and that
they had time to go on board again before the re-
turn of the tide.
Robinson was no ſooner on board, but he made
all polfble halte 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 liad a right to proyide for himſelf again.
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 limen, many tools
and utenſils, a lantern, together with all the papers
he found, in the Captain's, cabin. As the tide was
now returning, they failed back again, and as they
were driven forward by wind and tide, they ſoon
reached the ſhore. The remaining part of the day
Robinson dedicated to an occupation, which ſeemed
indiſpenſably neceſſary to him. He trembled at the
thought, left ſome heavy ſhower of rain might fall,
and render his greateſt treaſure , his gun - powder
uſeleſs. To prevent this danger, he reſolved to make
a tent that ſame day of the fail, which he had
352
brought along with him, and to ſecure all his riclı-.
68 againſt the rain under it.
, , .
- As he now. had ſciſſors, needles and thread, this
work went on veiy expeditionlly, and Friday foon
learned enough to be able to aſlift him. He could
not ſufficiently admire the ineſtimable invention of
needles and thread, and confelled repeatedly, that he
and his country-men, in compariſon with thė. Ikil-
ful Europeans, were but ignorant fellows. :..::
Their work was completed before night fall;
and then Robinson had the pleaſure, of ſhowing
Friday the aſtoniſhing effects of a connon. He charg-
ed it with a ball and placed 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' Triday was prepared for this
ſpectacle, by his having ſeen him fire his muſket
twice , yet he was again ſo frigten d. at this fill more
dreadful report of the cannon, that all his limbs
trembled. The balli fkinmed along the ſurface of
the ſea, till it was out of fight at an immenſe di-
ftance Friday allured him, that ſuch a ſingle ſhot
would make all his country- men run away, tho?
there were thouſands of them, be: anſe they would
take him, who could make ſuch thunder, for the
Toupan.' "!.
When it was dark, Robinson lighted a candle,
to look over the papers he had brought from the
Ship, and ſee, if 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
353
books were compoſed in a language, which he did
not underfiand. How greatly did he now regret his
having neglected the ſtudy of foreign languages !
But this repentance came too late.
However one circumſiance gave him ſome light
concerning the ſhip's deſtination and the object of
ber voyage. He found a couple of letters directed
for Barbadoes, an iſland in the Weſt - Indies, where
tliere is a great trade with ſlaves.
FREDERIC. A trade with flaves ?
Father. I will tell you, what it is. In Afri.
ca - don't you remember where that lies ?
FredeRIC. Oh! yes, that way, over the green
bridge and the geeſe 95) green! – Well, and -
FATHER. In Africa then, where the negroes live,
moſt of the people are ftill 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 Weli - Indies,
where they are uſed for hard labour, and are at the
ſame time but very poorly kept. Such a ſlave (lo
they call theſe unhappy people) is there in a very
bad ſituation, and would often rather chooſe to die
than live.
95) the gooſe.
(23)
354
THEOPHILUŞ. 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 leali a
hundred of ſuch ſlaves on board of the ſhip, and
were to be carried to Barbadoes. He made Friday
comprehend all theſe things, and added: who knows,
whether theſe unhappy people do not owe their de-
liverance to that fiorm, which drove 96) their vel.
ſel on the rock ? Whether they have not reached
ſome iſland by means of their boats, where their
tyrants have no more power over them; and where
they may, in their own way, live very happy and
contented ?
: Friday did not find this in the leaſt improbable.
Well now I'riday! added Robinson, whilft his
face began to glow; have you ſtill the heart to re-
peat the queſtion you lately aſked me ?
: FRIDAY. Which?
• ROBINSON. Of what uſe that fiorm might be,
which carried away our boat ?
: Friday was alhamed, and caſt down his eyes
with a repentant look.
. Upon which Robinson cried out with pious
żeal: 0 Friday! aoknowledge the hand of the Al-
mighty and all-wiſe God, which has again appeared
ſenſibly in this affair ! See how much the ſtorm was
06) to drive.
ont look.
1
355
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 fiorm? It is in-
deed afflicting to owe one's happineſs to the miſfors
times of other people ; but ſuppoſe mom of them
tliat were on board of the firanded veel live now
much happier, than before ? And it is not in the
lealt improbable, that this is really the caſe! What
do you think now of the divine government of the
world?
„That it 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 fins, which he had committed through igno.
rance,
Robinson kept all the writings, which he had
been looking over, with as much care, as he did
the gold and the jewels; that, in caſe he ever return.
ed to Europe, he might by their means be able to
find out, to whom he ſhould return the treaſures
he had ſaved,
For lix days Inccellively they continued to re-
turn to the wreck twice or thrice daily, and fetch'd
every thing on flore, which they could mafter. A
thouſand trifles, which we ſhould ſcarce bave thought
worthy to look at, becauſe we never yet felt the
want of them, were important to them and accor-
dingly taken on Chore. One part of the cargo con-
fifted of ivory; which they left on board, becauſe
they could make no uſe of it. They alſo left be-
356
hind ſome caſks off coffee, which Robinson ſcorned
to take, becauſe he did not intend ever to accuſtom
himſelf again to ſuch fuperfluous and noxious delica-
cies. 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 conſe-
quently more valuable. They even carried the five
remaining guns on Thore, as alſo all the iron they
could find or break looſe.
Now after having made eighteen trips and eve-
ry time with the beſt ſucceſs, they perceived, when
they were again on board of the wreck, that there
was a ſtorm riſing. They made therefore all poſſi.
ble hafte to compleat their loading, and left the
wreck in hopes of reaching the ſhore before the
form came on. But their endeavours proved fruit-
leſs. Before they were half way, there aroſe lo vio-
lent a ſtorm with thunder, lightening and rain, that
the waves rolled over the raft, and waſhed every
thing upon it into the ſea. They lield 97) themſel.
ves 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 relift the fury of the waves. The ligatures,
by which the beams were faſten'd together, gave
way, and the whole raft ſeparated.
CHARLOTTE. Oh, poor Robinson.
ALL. Oh be quiet, be quiet,
FATHER. Friday endeavour'd to ſave himſelf
97) to hold.
357
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
fiunned, ſo that he could neither ſee nor hear. At
laſt his ftrength forſook 98) him together with the
knowledge of himſelf. He gave a loud cry, and
then diſappear’d under a monſtrous wave, which
tore him from his beam. '
Happily his faithful Friday had been conſtantly
near him, tho' He might have ſaved himſelf much
ſooner, if he had chulen it. When he ſaw his ma-
fier go to the bottom , he did not heſitate a moment,
but dived down, ſeized him by his left hand, and
worked himſelf upwards with his right. And now
he exerted his utmoſt endeavours to ſuch a degree,
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 ap-
pear any remains of life in him. .
Friday carried the pale corpſe on ſhore , threw
99) himſelf upon him in a lit of deſpair, called him,
Thook 100) him, rubbed his whole body, and preſe
ſed his lips above ten times on his mouth in order
to blow breath into him. To his unſpeakable joy
he at length perceived ſome fymptoms of life retur-
ning; he continued his endeavours , till Robinson
recover'd his ſenſes.
„Where am I? ſaid he at laſt in a weak and
98) to forſake. 99) to throw. 100) to Chake.
358
trembling voice, opening his eyes again. „In my
arms, dear mafier ! “ anſwer'd Friday, whoſe tears
guſhed down his cheeks. — And now it was an af-
fecting ſcene. Whilft Robinson was thanking his
deliverer , Friday, did not know, what to do with
himſelf for joy at his dear maſter's return to life. –
.. And now, my children, I think we can not
break off our ſtory with any thing better; ſo enough
for to day.
359
TWENTY FIFTH EVENING.
Several obſtacles had occurred, by which the Fame
ther was prevented from continning the narration.
In the mean time the ſociety of the young people
was increaſed by fix new members, wole names were:
Matthew, Ferdinand , Conrad, Vack, Chriſtopher
and Charles.
Now there aroſe 1) a great buſile among the el-
der 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 interrupted by a
third, to fill up the chalm in the relation. Now as
The challenge
they. thus all talked together, it occafion'd ſuch a
confuled 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,
1) to åriſe.
560
lill he came to that period where he had left off..
Then he eontinued to the general ſatiſfaction as fol.
lows. '
Now, my children, our Robinson is once more
recover'd. The ſleep, he enjoyd over night in his
tent, on real beds, has ſo refreſhed him, that he
now ſtands again at break of day in his full bodily
ſtrenght, pouring forth his praiſes to the almighty
God for the preſervation of his health 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 wrek.
At laſt the ſun aroſe, and now he ſaw to his
great forrow, that the wreck had quite diſappeared.
Single planks and beams, lying ſcatterd on Chore,
ſhew'd, that it had been entirely dalhed to pieces
by the ſtorm. At the fight of which, he found
himſelf happy in the conſciouſneſs of his having ſpar-
od 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 occur-
ring diſagreeable accident, he can ſay to himſelf like
Robinson: „ It is not my fault!“ O this conſciouſ-
neſs greatly aſſuages things, that otherwiſe would
extremely embitter our hearts! :
Robinson and Fridy now gather'd all the remai-
ning pieces of the ſhip, which they found on the
ſtrand, becauſe they forelaw, that every board and
every plank would be uſeful to them. They now
formed a regular plan for their future occupations.
The things were now to be conveyed to the
361
Caſtle; but to leave them alone, whilft they were
removing them, ſeem'd dangerous. Robinson there-
fore diſpoſed, that they ſhould alternately watch the
goods, and carry fome to the caſtle on a wheel-bar-
row, and that one was to work in the morning and
the other in the afternoon. He charged the guns
and placed them near the ſea-ſhore with their muzz-
les towards the ſea. Then they made a fire that
was to be kept up by him, who fiood 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 caftle. He now likewiſe put on a com-
mon failor's dreſs, in order to ſpare the better ſorts
of clothes, and inſtead of his former arms, he now
wore 2) nothing but a cutlaſs and a brace of loaded
piftols in his girdle. He firſt took ſome ſmall caſks
of gunpowder and other things, that were, moſt lia-
ble 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 falten'd a rope round his breaſt,
which was again tied to the wheel barrow, that he
might allitt his maſter by drawing. Now as ſpaniels
are naturally very tractable, he ſoon got uſed to his
new employment, and did his buſineſs as well, asa
if he had been and old cart-horſe. He carried more.
over a bundle between his teeth, which he had been
taught to do before.
At his return Robinson took all his tame La-
2) to wear.
362
mas, that had already been uſed to carry burthens,
to employ them in removing the goods. Ás there
were 'leven of them, and each was able to carry
one hunderd and fifty pounds weight , ġou may
eaſily calculate, how much this whole caravan could
transport at once.
But as Robinson's cave was not ſpacious enough
to contain ſo many things, lliey quickly pitched a
ſecond tent in the yard of the caſtle, to ſerve as a
ftore- houſe in the interim, till they had more lei-
ſure. In the ſpace of eight days the whole was re-
moved, 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 almoft forgotten her. Well,
the goat was taken along with them, as you may
eaſily imagine, and put into the incloſure among
ile lame Lamas, with which ſhe agreed very well.
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 diviſion in his buſineſs, quick-
ly diſtinguiſhed between the more and leſs neceſſary
occupations and proceeded firli to the former. The
molt neceſſary of all was the building of a fied or
a barn, to keep thoſe things, for which they had
no 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 bad learned.
565
But what could now be too dificult for our in-
"duſtrious and ſkillful Robinson, now that he law
himſelf in poſeſion of all the tools he wauted? The
moſt troubleſome work which he had never been
accuſtomed to, was now a trifle to him, after he
had ſucceded in ſo many other things without either
tools or albfiant. He now felled trees, ſquared 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 reg
ſemblance to the ſmall dwellings of our country peo-
ple. Our Robinson had wiſely brought the windows
of the ſhip's cabin on ſhore with him; and theſe
now ſerved, to enlighten the building without lea-
ving any hole open. The glaſs was-for-Friday an
object of particular admiration, becauſe he had ne-
ver ſeen any before, and he now perceived, wliat
great conveniency it affords. .
Robinson now thought of contriving a conve-
nient entrance into his cafile 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 requiſite as nails,
chains, hinges, halps, locks etc. in abundance, he
proceeded directly to tlie execution of his plan. Firſt
they made every thing ready; then they cut an ope-
ning in the wall, according to the fize of the gate
they had finiſhed. Hereupon they raiſed and fixed
the gate, and the bridge was lo contrived, thal,
364
when * drawn, it cover'd the whole gate. Then
they placed their fix pieces of cannon loaded upon
the wall ſo, that two commanded the right flank,
two the left and two the front of the calile. And
now they might be quite eaſy with reſpect to the
attacks of the Cavages, and they had at the ſame rime
the convenience of a regular entrance into their ha-
bitation.
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 theſo
tools. It would have been a pleaſure to have ſeen
them, and a fiill greater to have joined in their
work.
· JACK. I could wiſh to have been there, to al-
Gift 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 ! Sometimes we carry ſmall 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 accuftom us never to be idle,
and becauſe it makes us healthy and firong!
365
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 occu-
pation!
CHARLES. Oh that's excellent? Then we will
be as diligent 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 induſ-
trious life.
Now the hardeſt work was over, Robinson next
made two flails, taught Friday the uſe of them, and
then they dreſhed 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 fieve, to fift the flour, and an oven to bake
the bread. He was obliged to contrive both. To
make a fieve, he took ſome thin mullin, 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 finiſhed
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 reſolution accordingly, which,
366
was: to low moſt of his fields with rye inſtead of
maize, that he might always have a ſufficient ſtock
of rye to make bread. This alſo ſeemed to require
loſs work for him and Friday, becauſe in this iſland
they might have two crops in the courſe of the
year.
: They, ftill wanted ſomething, which they had
not found amongſt the different particles on board,
and which would"ye bave been very uſeful, I mean
- a couple of iron fpades. 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 Robinson being de-
termined to make htiſbandry for the future his cori-
ftant and chief occupation, it being the moſt agreea-
ble and nſeful buſineſs : he conceived the idea of
conſtructing a forge, in order to make ſpades and
other uſeful inſtruments too . i : .!
... This idea was not ſo extravagant, as it may
perhaps appear to you; for every thing neceſſary to
make a forge was to be found in his fiorehouſe.
There was an anvil and ſeveral tongs, a pretty large
pair of bellows, and as much old and new iron,
as would probably ſerve him all his life time. This
reſolution was therefore 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 admirably after ſome
miſcarriages. When the ſpades were finiſhed, Ro-
367
binson proceeded ftill further and tried, whether he
could not invent a plough, ſuited to their firenght!
He ſucceeded and his joy was inexpreſfible,
This plough was indeed very different from ours ;
it was made of a crooked' branch of a tree, at the
one end of which the plough" [hare was faſtened,
together with the landle, by which the ploughman
might guide it as he pleaſes ; on the otlier end on
the contrary the horſes or oxen ought to have been
harneſſed, 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
tliey began to apply to huſbandry.
FERDINAND.. That muſt have been a cựrious
plough!..
FATHER. Perhaps leſs than you think. At firft
all inſtruments were as plain and as ſimple as this
plough. By degrees men conceived more advanta-
geons contrivances , altered , improved, and thins
they continued to promote the utility and convenience
of thoſe things, which they wanted in their work. .
However Robinson had ſufficient reaſon to be
rejoiced at 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 palied, be-
fore men even conceived the idea of inventing ſuch
a fimple inſtrument, as this plough; and the inven.
tors of it were conſidered by their poſierity as Cuchi
extraordinary wiſe men, that they paid divine wor-
Ship to their memory. Do you fiill remember, John,
368
FAT
whom the Egyptians look'd upon ag * the inventor
of the plough?
John. Oh yes! Osiris; whom on that ac-
count they afterwards worſhipped as a God.
FATHER. The Phoenicians attributed this uſeful
invention to a certain Dagon, whom for that
reaſon they alſo regarded as an extraordinary being',
calling him the ſon of heaven.
Nicolas. But might not Robinson have uſed
his lamas, to draw the plough?
FATHER. At firſt he doubted, whether they
would be fit for it, becauſe they ſeemed ſitter for
carrying, than for drawing. However he would
not leave this matter untried; and lo! he ſucceeded
beyond his hopes. Theſe animals accuſtomed thema
ſelves to it by degrees; and at laſt this work ſuccec-
ded ſo well, as if Robinson and Friday had been
thorough paced huſbandmen and the lamas oxen or
alles.
Now they were in want of another inſtrument
for the tilling 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.
FATHER. Very right! The land can not be well
cultivated without it. This infirument breaks the
clods, the ſeed falls into ſoft mould, and is covered
with it.
In the firſt place Robinson forged as many iron
569
teeth as he thought neceſſary; and after ſome fruitleſs
trials, he 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 tecth 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 had
the pleaſure of reaping, twelve times as much, that
is twenty four buſhels of rye, twelve buſhels of bar-
ley and fix buſhels of peale; which was much more
than he and Friday could conſume in fix months.
But like a prudent huſbandman, he did not forget,
that he ought always to have a ſtore of proviſions
of every kind becauſe he might chance to have a bad
crop, or it might be deſtroy'd by hail or any other
accident. He therefore reſolved to build a granary,
in which he might always keep a proviſion for fix
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 fiory 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; and the work was finiſhed in a ſhort
time. .
During theſe occupations their goat had two
kids, ſo that this kind of animals was alſo propagat-
ed in the iſland. The dog was their watchman; and
(24)
370
Poll, the parrot, was their companion at table, ſome-
times 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 bappineſs, there was nothing
more wanting, than – what do you think?
THEOPHILUS. To be with his parents !
FATHER. And – that tliere were only two of
them, one of whom muſt ſooner or later be expec-
ted to die, and leave the other as a poor hermit fe-
parated from all the reſt of mankind. But Robinson
thought it to be wrong to embitter his life, by fear-
ing miſfortunes, that might poſſibly happen. God,
thought he, who has hitherto provided for me, can
help me further. And thus his life palled in undiſ-
turbed contentment, becauſe he now poſſeſſed inward
and outward tranquility. And may God grant every
one of you that ſtate of mind!
To which the mother added : Amen! and the
company withdrew.
371
TWENTY SIXTH EVENING.
FATHER, Now, my dear children, I have a great
deal to relate to you this time!
All. Oh excellent! excellent!
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 fuppofitions by
their geſtures.)
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 eafily
imagine all that.
FATHER. I ſhall therefore only tell you, that
by degrees they ſucceeded ſo well in imitating the
372
baker, the ſmith, the tailor, the ſhoemaker', the car-
penter, the joiner, the wheelwright, the potter, the
gardener, the farmer, the hunter, the fiſherman -
and many others, that they learned to make a hun-
dred kinds of things, for which we indolent Euro-
peans want the albiſtance of as many different people.
Their firenght encreaſed in proportion as they exer-
ted it; and during ſuch continued uſeful occupations
their minds grew fiill more ſerene and more cheer-
ful: A proof, that God almighty muſt have purpo-
ſely created us, to be active, becauſe it always makes
us healthier, better and happier.
They had now ſpent fix months in ſuch agree.
able occupations, 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
Tee his native iſland, and there he would ſtand in a
profound revery, fighing at the miſfortune of being
perhaps for ever ſeparated from his father. Robin-
son on 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,
Robinson 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 before. Thus they
began their work the very next morning, and now
373
thiey very naturally worked ten times faſter and bet-
ter than the firſt time, becauſe they had now good
hatchets to work with.
One morning, whilft Robinson was very buſy
upon Come 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 hurty almoſt out of breath with running and
fright, fo that with a ſtuttering voice he could only
pronounce theſe words: There they are! there!
• Robinson ftartled, and aſked, who was there?
„Oh Maſter! Maſter! anſwered Friday, one, two,
three, fix canoes !“ In his fright he could not im-
mediately recollect the number fix.
Robinson ran haſtily up to the top of the hill,
and ſaw, not without ſhuddering, what Friday had
told him,' – fix' canoes full of ſavages on the point
of landing. Upon which he got down again, en-
couraged Friday, who was quite diſmay'd and then
he aſked him: whether he was reſolved to aſlift him
faithfully, in caſe they ſhould come to an engage-
ment with the ſavages ?
„ With my blood and life ! " he anſwer'd being
now come to himſelf again, and having fummond
up all his valour. „ Well then, ſaid Robinson, we
will try, whether we can not prevent theſe monſters
from executing their horrible deſign. I'll tell you.
my intention as we go along; this is not the time
to talk, but to act. ,
Upon which lie took one of the pieces of can-
374
non, that was on a carriage, from the wall, fetched
fix loaded muſkets, four piſtols, and two ſwords.
Each of them faften'd two piſtols, and a ſword to
his girdle, took three fire - locks on his ſhoulders,
and after having provided themſelves with a ſuffi-
cient quantity of powder and ball, they marched off;
dragging the cannon after them. And thus the már-
tial train went in ſilent and tremendous ſolemnity
out at the gate.
Having paſſed over the draw-bridge, they halt-
ed. Then Friday was diſpatched to draw up the
bridge, to faften the gate, and then to join his Ge-
neral by aſcending the rope - ladder, that was ſtill
hanging down from the ſteep rock. Robinson took
this precaution, that the enemy mighị, not take pol-
ſellion of their caſtle, in caſe their undertaking ſhould
prove unſucceſsful. :
. And now Robinson explained to Friday his well
concerted plan „We will,” ſaid he, „march round
the hill thro' the thickeſt part of the wood, that
the enemy may not get fight of us. Then we will
get as near them, as we poſfibly 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 burning
match along with him.) This will probably ſo ter.
rify theſe barbarians, that they will relinquiſh their
prey, and ſeek immediate ſhelter in their canoes.“
· Friday thought this ſuppoſition very probable.
„Then," continued Robinson, „ we ſhall have
375
the ſatiſfaction of ſaving thoſe unhappy people ,
whom they intend to roaſt, without ſhedding a drop
of human blood. But if, contrary to all probabili-
ty, we ſhould be diſappointed in our hopes: if theſe
cannibals ſhould rely on their number, and make
any reſiſtance: then, dear Friday, we muſt fhew
that we are man, 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 lie ſhook hands with his fellowa
combatant, 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 poſible, and now
they ſtopt. Here Robinson wiſpered to his compa-
nion, to repair behind a thick tree, which he poin-
ted out to him, with as little noiſe as poſible, and
to bring him word, whether he could from thence
overlook the enemy. Soon after he came back and
informed him, that they could be obſerved there
perfectly well, that they were fitting about the fire
gnawing the broiled limbs of one of the priſoners,
whom they had already butcher'd : and that a ſecond
lay bound on the ſand at a little diſtance from them,
whom they deſigned for their next fealt; but he did
not ſeem to be one of his nation, but a white beard-
ed man.
Robinson's ſoul was ready to link within him
upon hearing of the white man. He had a perſpec-
376
tive glaſs in his pocket, which he had found on board;
with this he went ſoftly behind the tree, and there
he diſcover'd, what Friday had told him. Forty or
fifty cànnibals were cloſe huddled together about a
fire, and he ſaw plainly, that the remaining 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 palfion, he would
have immediately jumped forth, to fall upon them.
But reaſon was fironger with him, than blind pal-
fion; thus he ſuffer'd himlelf to be led 3) by the
former, and check'd his indignation.
As the wood in an other place jutted further
out towards the ſhore; he took his land there; plant-
ed his cannon behind the laſt buſh, which had a
ſmall opening, tho' 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
fame. Then he clapt 4) the burning match to the
touch-hole of the cannon, and bounce! - it went
off. .. .
The moment the report was heard, moſt of the
ſavages fell down on ihe ground, as if they had
been all ſhot at once. Robinson and Friday on the
contrary in expectation of the event, fiood ready for
battle in caſe of need. In half a minute's time the
5) to lead 4) to clap.
3:37
fiunn'a ſavages roſe again. The moſt fearful ran to
their canoes, whereas the moſt courageous took up
their arms.. .. . .. .. . ...
Unluckily they had neither perceived the flaſh
of the powder nor the ball paffing over their heads;
and had only heard the report. Their: fright was
therefore not ſo great as had been expected, and af-
ter having looked about them, and found nothing
to frighten them again, they ſoon took courage the
fugitives returned: they all ſet up a moft dreadful
howl, and with the moſt horrible geſtures and bran-
diſhing their weapons, they began their uſual war-
dance.
Robinson was undetermined what to do, till the
war-dance was ended. But when he ſaw to his
alioniſhment, that this ſavage company took their
ſeats again, and that two of them were deputed to
fetch the poor European, it was impoffible for him
to refrain any longer from action. He looked at Fri-
day, and only whiſper'd theſe words to him: Ad-
vance to the left, and I'll advance to the right!
And now in the name of God! At theſe words he
gave fire at them; and Friday did tlie ſame.
Friday had taken his aim better, than Robinson;
for five fell on the leſt, and only three on the right
fide of the fire. Three of them were really killed,
and five only wounded. The confternation 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 moft dreadfully.
Robinson was now ready to jump forth and defeat
378
them entirely:* (word 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 therefore 1ook up the ſe-
cond 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 more or leſs dangeroully wounded ran
yelling and ſcreaming about like mad creatures. Three
of them fell down foon 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 ruſhed out of the wood into the
open plain, and Robinson firſt ran up to the poor,
victim, to acquaint him of his deliverance. When
he came up to him, he perceived, that ſome of the
fugitives ſtopt ſhort at the light of him, rallied again,
and prepared for battle. He made a ſign to his com-
panion, 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 feet
were tied in a moft pitiful manner. Upon which
he aſked him in German and in Engliſh: who he
was ? and the priſoner anſwer'd him in latin: Chri-
ftianus, a Chriftian! Hiſpanus, a Spaniard ! His faint-
nels linder'd him from ſaying any more. Luckily
. 379
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. Fri-
day was in the mean time ordered to fetch the mul-
ket, which they had fired off, that they might be
loaded again.
The Spaniard had ſcarce got the pifiol and (word,
when he fell furiouſly upon his enemies and in a
thrice laid two of them ſprawling at his feet. Friday
took the fixth gun, that was ſtill loaded, and ran
to his alfiſtance, whilft Robinson was loading the
reſt. The two champions found great reſiſtance, and
were ſoon ſeparated; whilſt the ſpaniard and one of
the favages got to cloſe fighting, Friday, after ha-
ving fired his piece, ran ſword in hand, and drove
5) a whole ſwarm of the fugitives before him. Some
he cut 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 en-
counter. He had indeed, notwithſtanding his weak-
nels. 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 6) lo vio.
lently upon him with his heavy ſword of fione,
that he was ſcarce able to parry off his blows. At
lali the ſavage got hold of him, flung him down,
5) to drive. 6) to preſs.
380
(
wrefied the ſword out of his hands, and was juſt
going to cut off his head with it, when Robinson,
happily perceiving the danger, fired a ball thro' the
cannibal's head.
Scarce had the Spaniard got on his legs again,
but he graſped one of the guns, that was again loa-
ded, and went with Friday in purſuit of thoſe, that
had eſcaped into the wood. As theſe were but few,
and beſides moſt of them wounded, Robinson thought
proper, to remain on the field of battle, rather than
run after them, and to obſerve the motions of the
reſt of the enemies, who had now reached their
canoes. Tui a ſhort time his two fellow combatants
returned with the account, that there was not one
left in the wood.
Both of them were immediately ſtepping into
one of the canoes, which tlie ſavages had left, to
purſue thoſe, that were endeavouring to eſcape with
all the ſail they could make; but Robinson ftopped
them, ſaying: That's enough, my friends! We have
alreaday ſhed more human blood, than we ought
perhaps to have done. Let the reſt live, as they
have neither the intention nor the power to hurt us
any more. i ;
:: „ But, ſaid Friday, they will perhaps return in
multitudes and deſtroy us, if we let them eſcape ! “
Well, ſaid Robinson, tapping him friendly on
the ſhoulder, our army is now by one third ſtron-
ger, than it was this morning, pointing at the ſame
time to the fpaniard. Now we can always face a
381
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 utmoli neceffity
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 fad 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 Chriſtoplier ?
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 fo, 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 honour'd had
from it's infancy always aſſured it, that murdering
one's enemies and eating them was ſomething very
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 was big enough, aſſiſt the reſt
in killing and eating. And that was the caſe with,
382
theſe poor ſavages. Happy for us, that God almigh-
tý has not ſuffer'd * us to live among them, but be
born of civilized parents, who taught us from our
infancy, what is right and wrong, good and bad !
Our humane hero went now with tears of com-
paſſion in his eyes about the field of battle, to ſeë,
whether there were not one among thoſe, who was
not lifeleſs and who might be yet helped. But mofi
of them were already dead, and the reſt ſoon died,
whilft lie was pouring wine into their wounds, and
endeavouring 'to comfort them every poſſible way. .
There were in all twenty one dead. As to the vic-
torious army, not a man of them had fallen, nay,
not one of them was wounded; only the Spaniard
was bruit'd by his fall. - .
Matthew. But how did the ſavages get the
Spaniard ?
FATHER. Robinson has had no time yet to en-
quire after that; and therefore we muſt alſo ſuppreſs
our curioſity till to morrow.
All. What! finiſhed already ?
383
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 tine,
which I muſt firſt relate to you..
. :
: . John. Well, what can that be? .
FATHER. Robinson curious to examine one of
the two canoes they had left behind, went to the
place where it was, and to his great aſtoniſhment :
found another unhappy victim lying in one of them,
bound hand and foot juſt as the Spaniard had been,
with very little life in him.
. Robinson made hafte to unbind him, and was
going to lift him up. But he could neither ſtand
or ſpeak, but' whined fo piteouſly, as thinking, they
were now going to butcher him.
As this man was a favage and no European, Ro-
304
binson called Friday, who was then dragging the
dead bodies together, defiring him to ſpeak to him
in his own country-language. But Friday had ſcarec-
ly 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 him-
ſelf. He threw himſelf into the captive's arm, hug-
ged him cried, laugh’d, jumped about danced, wep',
wrung his hands , beat his face and breali, then
cried again, and behaved in every reſpect like a dif-
tracted man, ſo that it was a great while, before
Robinson could receive an anſwer to his repeated
queftions. At length Friday uiter'd: He is my fa-
ther.
It is impoflible to deſcribe all the marks of ex-
taſy 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 fat
down, open'd his jacket, held his father's head cloſe
to his boſom, to cheriſh it; ſometimes he chafed
his arms and ankles, which were benumbed as the
ftrings were tight; then again he embraced his neck
or his waiſt, and cover'd him with careſſes. Robin-
son, who had a little wine left in his bottle, gave
it him, to waſh his father's numbed limbs; and
then walked aſide, to let him indulge his joy. 1.
. Wen 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 which Robinson gave him his own
breakfaſt, which lie had ſtill in his pocket, and Friday
385
gave it to his father. He had ſcarce done ſo, but
he flew 7) like lightening out of the boat and ran
off. Before Robinson could aſk him, where he was
going, he was out of fight.
In a ſhort time after he was ſeen returning, but
much flower, 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 his maſter, to make amends
for the breakfaſi he had given his father. The freſh
water revived the old man ſurpriſingly, becauſe he
was almoſt fainting with thirſt.
Now Robinson haſtened to the Spaniard, who
lay quite exhaulted on the graſs. He deſired Friday
to give him ſomething to drink, and offer'd him
ſome bread and cheeſe to refreſh himſelf. The Spa-
niard looked up to him with friendly and grateful
countenance ; exerted himſelf to riſe; but it was not
poſſible, ſo great was the pain he felt in the knuck-
les of his hands and feet, that were extremely (well-
ed by the hard binding. Friday was order'd to fit
down by him, and rub and bathe his ankles with
wine, as he had done his father's.
It was very moving to ſee, how this good ſon,
whilft he was employed in this, turned his head
every moment 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 ſuch ſwiftneſs,
7) to fly.'
(25)
386
that he was ſcarce ſeen to touch the ground; but
finding, that his father only laid hit ſelf down to
eaſe his limbs he returned immediately. Upon which
Robinson was going to try, whether he could not
with Friday's alfiſtance lead the fpaniard to the boat
in order to be conveyed to their dwelling: but Tri-
day, being a young 'fiout fellow, took the (paniard
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 jumped again
into the firſt, and tho' it had begun to blow a freſh
gale, he row'd away with ſuch rapidity, that Robin-
son, 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 fick men, Friday was
back again with the ſecond. So great was his dex-
terity in running and rowing,
Now they were oppoſite to their caſtle; and Ro-
binson ran home to fetch a barrow, to carry the
two fick men. 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 redu-
ced to the neceſſity of leading a ſolitary life again.
His joy was undeſcribable. Now they both appear-
ed in want of ſleep, more than of any thiug elle.
387
Whilft Friday was preparing a bed for each of them,
Robinson warmed ſome wine, to waſh their ſwell.
ed ancles and knuckles. After which they were put
to bed.
And now our two hofts prepared a comfortable
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 ftill more like an abſolute king
iban before. He was mafier of the whole iſland;
and bis ſubjects, who all owed their lives to him,
were entirely dependant on his will, and conſeqnent-
ly obliged 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 re-
ligious fects, as he had ſubjects in his dominions.
Friday follow'd that cliriſtian religion, which he
had taught him, and wbich the Proteftants profeſs.
(The bigger of you know the ſignification of the
word, and the younger will have patience, till they
get more underſtanding, when they ſhall hear it
too.) Thus Friday, as I ſaid before, was a proteſ-
tant, the Spaniard a roman catholick Chriſtian, and
Friday's father ftill a pagan. „What is to be done
in this matter? • thought Robinson to himſelf. ,, 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 fide of the queſtion did his ſolid underſtand.
388
ing/incline? Had he a right to force his fubjects to
profeſs 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 doyhim?
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 profeſfing a belief, the truth of
which we are noť convinced of? — 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 poffible, that
he himſelf were miſtaken?
HANS. Oh yes! i
FATHER. Why?
Hans. Becauſe all men are ſubject to errors.
FATHER. Conſequently no body muſt preſumo
to think his opinion an infallible truth!
Thns, 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 opinions contain; he alone knows
exactly, with how much candour or levity we have
389
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 unreaſonable zeal of converting any body
over to one's religion by force! Curſed be the blind
· rage of perſecuting and torturing one's brother, only
becauſe he is ſo unhappy a's to be in an error, and
ſo virtuous, as to refuſe profeffing any thing pu-
blickly, of which he is not convinced in his heart !
In my iſland at leaſt this inhumanity Chall never take
place. I will indeed do all I can'to inſtruct my ſub-
jets: but if I ſhould not be ſo happy as to convince
them of their error, and of the truth of my reli-
gion: they may believe, what they can, and be anſ-
werable for it one day, not to me - their poor er-
ring brother - but to God almighty.
He therefore reſolved to grant every one of them
liberty of conſcience, in caſe, after proper inſtruc-
tions, 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 dou-
ble feftival, becauſe we have ſaved two of our breth-
ren 8) 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!
Friday needed no encouragement to be cheerful.
He had never been ſo merry as to day. He ſung,
8). i. q. brothers.
390
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.
Now the two gueſts were awake. Tho' they
felt ſome pain yet, they were nevertheleſs already lo
refreſhed and firengthen'd, that they could get up
with Friday's and Robinson's allifiance, and fit at
table. And now the old ſavage appear'd as ſurpriſed
and aſtoniſh'd at the light of all theſe european
things, as his ſon had been, when he firſt ſaw them.
Friday ſerved as interpreter, whilft Robinson
converſed with his father and the Spaniard.
" FERDINAND. Did he underſtand ſpaniſh?
FATHER. No! But the Spaniard, who had al-
ready lived fix months among the layages, under-
ftood ſo much of their country- language, that he
could underſtand him. The chief contents of his
ftory were as follows:
, Our ſhip was employ'd in the negro-trade..
We were returning from the coaſt of Africa, where
we had barter’d fome gold duſt, ivory and negroes
for all kinds of European goods. We had taken an
hundred ſlaves on board, who were to be carried
to Barbadoes and ſold 9) there. But twenty of them
died, becauſe they were pack'd together like ſalt-
herings in a tub. A continual violent ſtorm had
driven us from our courſe to the coaſt of Brafil,
and our ſhip having ſprung 10) a leak, we durſt
not keep the main ſea, but coaſted along the conti-
nent. Suddenly we were overtaken by another gale
9) to ſell. 10) to ſpring.
- 391
from the weſt, which drove 11) 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
poffibly could. We ſet the blacks free, that they
might aſlift us in pumping ; but they ſcarce 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
impollible; for there were only fifteen of us, where-
as there were eighty of them, and beſides many of
them had ſeized our arms. But ſtaying on board
of a ſtranded veſel without a boat, was expofing
ourſelves to certain death. We therefore had recourſe
to intreaties, and endeavour'd to prevail on thoſe,
who a ſhort time before had been our ſlaves, either
to ſtay with us, or at leaſt to take us with them.
And here I can not help praiſing the generoſity and
humanity of theſe poor ſlaves. Tho' they had been
uſed very hard, yet they were moved with com-
paſſion 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 now too overloaded,
that we expected to fink every moment.“
„We were however endeavouring to reach the
neighbouring iſland; but the wind ſhifting ſudden-
ly, drove us, in ſpite of our utinoft exertions in
rowing, back to the main ſea. Our deſtruction now
11) to drive.
392
appeared no longer a matter of doubt. But theſe
overcharged boats, toſt about by the waves, carried
us, to our great alioniſhment ſafe over the ſea, till
we were at laſt quite unexpectedly thrown on a quite
unknown iſland, the poor inhabitants of which
received us with uncommon kindneſs.“
„Among theſe we have hitherto lived , every
one as well as he could, indeed but miſerably, be-
cauſe theſe poor Cavages have nothing themſelves,
but ſome fiſh, * which they catch, and a few 'fruits,
which grow in their iſland. Yet they let us Chare
in what they had, and inſtructed us, how to catch
· fiſh ourſelves. Our blacks were moft ſatiſfied with
this way of living, becauſe they were accuſtomed
to no better, and alſo becauſe they had recover'd
their liberty.“
„Some days ago the iſland was invaded by a
neighbouring nation. Every one took up arms, and
we too thought it our duty to allift our good bene-
factors. I fought 12) by the fide of this honeſt old
man, who, like a lion deprived of his young ones ,
threw himſelf into the middle of the 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 eat-
ing or drinking. For they threw 13).nothing but
rotten fiſh before us, which the ſea had caſt up."
„This morning at break of day we were drage
ged into the canoes, in order to be conveyed by theſe
12) to light. 23) to throw.
393
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 preſer-
vation and you .conferred on:us a benefit, which we
ſhall never be able to requite.“......
Here the Spaniard ſiopt, and tears of gratitude
bedewted his cheeks. Robinson was very glad to
find his late conjectures 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
Cadiz; but one of them only had given orders to
buy (laves on the coaſt of Africa; but the other,
deteſting this trafic had only deſired to have gold-
dufi for his goods.
Hereupon Robinson took the fpaniard by the
hand, led him into his ſtore- houſe, then {into his
cave, and ſhew'd him, to his great aſtoniſhment,
the moft, valuable effects of the firanded veſſel fiow-
ed 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. i
Upon which Robinson enquired further, for
whoſe account the diamonds had been, and to whom
the officers uniform had belong'd, which he had
found on board? and he was informed, they had
been the property of an Engliſh officer, who had
been many years in the Eaſtindies, and who was
taken ſo ill on his return home, that on his defira
he had been put on ſhore, on the coaſt of Africa,
394
where he died. He had deſired them to take his ef.
fects to Barbadoes, from whence they were to be
fent to England. .
Now Robinson ſhew'd the Spaniard all the pa-.
pers he had found on board; by which he learnt
the name of the merchant, to whom the gol-dduft
pertained, as allo 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 - duft, diamonds and
papers, as if they had been ſomething ſacred.
It was now evening, and the fatigues, and dan-
gers of the day had ſo much exhauſted all their
firength, that they longed for the beneficial refreſh-
ment of ſleep foøner', than uſual. They therefore
did, what we will do, after having thanked God
for the uninterrupted tranquility and happineſs ,
· which he has again granted us this day. .
3g5
TWENTY EIGHTH EVENING.
FATHER. Early tlie enſuing morning Robinson
ſummon'd his whole Enpire together, in order to
perform by the help of their united ſtrength a bufie
nels, which could not be pofiponed,
Ilans. What was that?
Father. The bodies of the ſlain were fiill
lying on the field of battle, and it was to be fear'd
that their noxious. exhalations mighe infect the air
and cauſe a dangerouş. ſickneſs. 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 alhes.
• Jonn. As the Romans uſed to do with their
dead!
; FATHER. And many other nations of old. Rou
შენ
binson was reſolved, not to follow the example of
his very imprudent countrymen in this particular,
who were at that time ftill inconſiderate enough, to
bury their dead in the midſt of town: nay, depoſita
ed them even in hurches, where they exhaled
plagues and death to the living.
· MATTHEW. Why, they do ſo ftill!
FATHER. Yes, indeed! That is another example,
how 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 accu.
ftom'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.
Every one knows in our times, that the ſtench
of dead bodies is poiſonous to the living : but do
people not ftill continue nevertheleſs to bury them
in church - yards, or even depoſite them in vaults in
the churches, where they are not even cover'd with
mould? Perhaps half a century muft elapſe, before
they will ſeriouſly think of aboliſhing this bad cu-
fiom,
· 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: be.
cauſe your fellow citizens will then place great con-
fidence in you, and confer on you dignities, which
will intitle you, to aboliſh many hurtful abuſes and
introduce many uſeful regulations. Heaven ſeems to
397
have deſtined you all, to be ſuch men of importance,
as may be a bleffing to the whole ſociety of their
fellow citizens : for kind provideuce has bestowed
on you all, what is requiſite for that purpoſe. You
are born of good, honeft parents, who enjoy the
eſteem and confidence of their fellow citizens ; you
have a ſound conſtitution, and the powers of your
mind have not been neglected, and befides you are
receiving an education, which few men can boaſt
of. Thus bountiful Heaven has granted you every
thing neceſſary to become worthy and powerful men :
It would be a ſhame for any of you to fruſtrate theſe
hopes
Yet I do not fear that. If you ſhould therefore,
as I hope, you will, attain to your great deſtination;
if you ſhould come to be ſuch men, as have influ-
ence on the happineſs of thouſands : oh, then do not
neglect to uſe the authority, entruſted to you, to
leſſen the evil, and to promote the good among your
bi ethren, and to diffuſe joy and happineſs about
you! Then remember the occaſion of the paternal ad-
monition, 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 *).
*) The father had the fatisfaction of ſeeing the inex-
pected good effects of this paſſage a few wecks after
the firſt publication of this book. A generous friend
to * children, who lay very ill of the comfumption ,
defired to have this little book read to him a few days
before his death, and when they came to the abovo
39&
NrcoLAS. When I go to town: I ſhall explain it
to my grandpapa and to my uncle ; they will be able
to do ſomething in it. —
Now Robinson and his companions having
burned the corpses, returned home. Friday had in
the mean time informed his father, that civilized
people eat no human fleſh, which at firſt he could
11ọt well conceivė. But Friday having repeated to
him every thing, he had learned of his maſier, on
the ſubject in a ſhort time made him have an ab-
horrence againſt ſuch an inhuman practice. Robin.
son gave this old man the name of Thursday, be-
cauſe he had been in the world before his lon; and
thus we ſhall call him for the future. Upon which Ros
binsonlummon’d them all to council, at which Friday
ſerved again as interpreter to tlie Spaniard as well as 10
old Thursday. Robinson, as being their chief,
open'd the ſelfion with the following ſhort ſpeech :
My good friends, as we are here aſſembled ,
we find ourſelves in the poſſeſſion of everything
neceſary for a 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 !, and who are ne.
vertheleſs obliged to pine away their lives in want
mention'd paſſage, he deſired accordingly to be buried
out of town. This was at firſt greatly objected to by
the common prejudices; but the requeſt of the dying
gentleman was more reſpected by the worthy relations,
than the ſenſeleſs reaſonings of the multitude. His
requeſt was fulfilled.
399
and miſery. I mean your country, - men, the Spa-
niards , my european friends, who are ſtill among
the ſavages. I wiſh therefore, that every one of
you would give his opinion concerning the proper
means of bringing thoſe unfortunate people hither ?««
Here he fiopt; and every one now gave his opi-
nion. The Spaniard offer'd to fetch them alone in
one oft he canoes, which they had taken. Old Thurs-
day was ready to do the ſame. Friday on the con-
trary adviſed, that his old father ſhould remain ,
and that he * might be permitted to accompany the
Spaniard. Now as this cauſed a generous contest bet-
ween them, one being as ready as the other to ren-
ture his life : Robinson ſaw himſelf obliged to de-
cide the matter, to which they all ſubmitted with
becoming obedience; and he commanded, that Thurs
day and the Spaniard ſhould go , and Friday remain
with him.
Charles. Why did not he rather ſend Friday,
than the poor old man ? '
FATHER. Partly from his affection to Friday ,
whom he could not poſfibly and without' trembling,
expoſe to any danger, in which he was not a parta-
ker and partly, becauſe 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 ven.
tured to come on Robinson's invitation only.
It was therefore agree'd, that theſe two ſhould
in a ſhort time go lover. But previous to that, care
was to be taken, that at leaſt ten times as much land
400
ſhould be taken in and cultivated : because the in-
creaſe of their colony would have the certain conſe-
quence, that they ſhould every day want more pro-
visions.
Therefore they all turned farmers for ſome weeks,
and as every one worked with a good will, their
labour went on very well and very faſt. In a fort-
night every thing was ready, and now they prepa-
red for theis 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, conſequently people witli-
out education. He did not know them ſufficiently
to be anſwerable for their good characters. ' His ad-
více therefore was : 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 follows: „ Who-
ever deſires to live in Robinson's iſland, and ſhare
in the conveniencies it affords, muſi conſenti
2) 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 ;
401
2) 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 pro..
moting the good of tlie whole, without múr-
muring, 'and in neceſſity allift the Lord of the
iſland with his life and blood;
5) Unanimouſly to oppoſe him, who ſhall dare to
tranſgreſs any of theſe equitable laws, and either
to reduce him to obedienice, or to baniſh him
for ever from the iſland. . ..
Every one is admoniſhed to reflect ſeriously on
theſe articles, and fign his name wider them,
inftead 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 agreed
that he ſhould take pen and ink along with him ,
that his country-men might fign them, before they
embarked..
And now they choſe the beſt of the canoes ,
' which they had taken from the enemy and prepared
for their voyage.
CONRAD. But was there room enough for all
the Spaniards in one canoe?
'
.
(36)
402
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 fiill in very good condition. :
When a ſufficient quantity of proviſions was par-
ried into the boat, and the wind being favourable ,
they took an affectionate leave of Robinson and
Friday and ſet ſail. The latter was exceſſively grie-
ved, when he ſaw himſelf obliged to part with his
dear father. Even the day before their departure 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 inconſola-
ble. Every now and then he embraced his father
and bedew'd his face with his tears. The old man
was at laft forced to tear himſelf from him ; but
when he was already in the boat and had left the
ſhore, Friday jumped into the ſea and ſwam to the
fide of the boat, to ſhake hands with him once more
and to ſob a laſt farewell. Upon which he returned
to Chore, placed himſelf on a ſmall eminence, and
looked after the boat ſobbing and weeping, till he
had loſt fight of it.
Robinſon, who wiſhed to divert his grief,
employ'd moſt part of that day in hunting and wal.
king over the mountains with him. They had not
gone far, before the dog, that had follow'd them ,
ftopped at the foot of a rock, overgrown with buſh-
es, and fell 15) a barking. They approached the
place, where they found a hole in the rock, which
26) to fall.
403
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.
unexamined, that had once drawn his attention, de-
fired his companion to try, whether he could not
get into the hole. Friday obey'd. But he had ſcarce
put bis head in when he ſtarted back , roaring moſt
hideously, and ran away like a madman, without mind.
ing Robinson's calling him. At length Robin.
son overtook him, and with ſome ſurpriſe enquired
after the cauſe of his flight. „Oh! oh! “ aufwer'd
Friday, ſcarce able to ſpeak , „ let us run, dear ma-
fter, as falt as we can; there is a moſt dreadful mon-
fter 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."
Oh! oh! “ cried Friday , falling on his knees
before him ; „no, for Heaven's fake, do not ſuch
things. It will certainly devour you, and then poor
Friday would have no mafter 1" Robinson ani.
wer'd (miling: „has he then devoured you ?" and as
he could not anſwer this queſtion in the affirmative:
he ordered him to run home and fetch the lantern,
He himfelf returned to the hole and ftood fentinel
with his gun loaded.
„And what in all the world thougt he can have
terrified Fraday in ſuch a manner ? a wild beafi ?
a lion , a tiger , a panther or any ſuch thing? Nay,
if that were, I ſhould commit a raſh action by creep.
ing into the hole. But if there wore any ſuch
404
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 impo-
ſed on him, and made him ſee ſomething, that does
not exift. 'I muſt therefore examine it to cure the
good lad of this childiſh pallion."
In the mean time Friday returned with a bur-
ning candle in the lantern, and tried again with tears
in his eyes to prevail on his maſter, not to expoſe
himſelf to ſuch eminent danger, in which he would
certainly periſh. But Robinson was a ſtranger to
fear, as ſoon as he had maturely conſidered a thing;
and could therefore not be withheld 16) from his
purpoſe. He begged Friday, to be courageous, took
the lantern in his left and a loaded piſtol in his right
hand, and thus he boldly went to face tbe adven-
ture.
' He had ſcarce put his head in , when he diſco-
ver'd ſomething by the feeble light of the lantern ,
that made him ſhudder. But yet he would not run
away directly, but ſtretched out his hand with the
lantern, to view this unknown monſter more di-
ſtinctly, And then he ſaw, that it was neither more
or leſs, than an old he lama , * juft expiring with
old age and infirmity. After having looked round
about him, and perceived nothing, but this very
harmleſs animal, he crept 17) entirely into the ca-
vern , 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 there
26) to withhold. 27) to creep:
•
405
fore took the generous ſelf - denying reſolution, of
creeping in after him, and now he ſaw to his afto-
niſhment, how greatly he bad been miſtaken in the
bigneſs 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 monfirous month, which you thought you
ſaw before ?
FRIDAY. It really appear'd to me , as if I ſaw
them; nay, I could have ſworn 18) it.
ROBINSON. I don't doubt, but it appear'd ſo to
you; buľ you ought to liave known, that timidity
is a liar, and makes us ſee many things, that do not
exiſti 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 infi-
pid tales were fearful old women, or cowardly men
like them , who, the ſame as you, imagined to ſee
ſomething, that does not exiſt, and who afterwards,
juſt as you, would have fworn, that they had really
ſeen ſuch things. Be a man , Friday ; look twice an
other time, and baniſh from your heart all woma-
niſh timidity!
Friday promiſed to do his beſt. In the mean
time the old lama expired, and Robinson endeavonta
red with Friday's alliſtance 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
28) to ſwear,
406
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 cry.
fial, reflected the light of the lantern on all fides with
' as much ſplendour, as if they had been looking
glalles.
Robinson inſtantly reſolved , to 'convert this
agreeable 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 excelfive heat. This place was happily noc
above a quarter of an hour from his caſtle. Friday
was therefore deſired to run immediately for the
neceſſary tools. With theſe they began directly to
enlarge the entrance, in order to makė afterwards a
regular door before it. And this work afforded a
very agrecable employment during the abſence of the
two others.
407
TWENTY . NINTH EVENING.
IVICOLA8. Every time that Papa is going to con.
tinue his narration, I am afraid --.
FATHER. Of what, dear Nicolas ?
NICOLAS. 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 likewile. You will
therefore do well to be prepared for it before-hand.
There is again a ſtorm rifing on Robinson's horizon,
the iſsue of which I cannot anſwer for. * Be there-
fore on your guard.
Eight days were already paſt, and no ſign of the
deputies fo 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 them, without ſucceſs. One mor-
408
ning, whilft 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 - glaſs , 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 things a little nearer he ſhook 19)
his head, and ſaid: Friday, Friday, I fear, you are
miſtaken! Friday turned pale.
Robinson looked a ſecond time and appear'd fill
more alioniſh’d. At laſt he could no longer doubt
of what he ſaw, 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! Friday trembled in all his
limbs. Follow me, ſaid Robinson, going haſtily to
another eminence, from whence they could overlook
the northern coaſt.
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
diftanoe of about a league - an Engliſh veſſel at
anchor.
Surpriſe, fear and joy alternately ſeized Robin-
son's ſoul ; joy at the fight of a ſhip, that might
perhaps be the inárument of his deliverance; ſur-
priſe' and fear on the contrary at the real intention
of her coming to theſe coaſts. Slue could not have
19) to Shakc.
409
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 conſe-
quently no trade. He therefore apprehended, that
they might be pirates...
FREDERIC, What ſort of people are they?
· FATHER.. There are ftill men here and, there ,
who have been ſo ill inſtructed in their youth, as
not to know that robbing is a crime. Theſe wret-
ched 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 done
by land, ſuch people are called thieves or robbers->
if it be done by ſea, they are called pirates.'
CHRISTOPHER. But theſe were Engliſhmen! -
FATHER. So they appeared to be indeed, but
Robinson thought : who knows, whether thoſe
wretches, in caſe they be pirates, have not perhaps
taken this vellel by force, and then dreſſed themſel-
ves, in Engliſh cloathing - During the firſt hel-
pleſs years of his folitary abode in this iſland, he
would have thought it a happineſs is to fall in with
pirates, and be carried away by them as a ſlave ,
only to get among his own ſpecies again. But now,
as his condition was much happier, the danger of
falling into the hands of ſuch villains made him fhude
der. He therefore imparted his apprehenſions to Frii
day, and they both went to obſerve the motions of
thoſe, that were approaching in the boat.
410
They aſcended an eminence cover'd with trees
and underwood from whence without being ſeen
themſelves they could obſerve all what paſſed. They
ſaw the floop, in which there were eleven men ,
land about lialf a mile from them on the beach. The
whole crew went on (hore. Eight of them were ar-
med, but three not. Theſe latier, who were fete
ter'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 folliciting thoſe, that were
armed; for he fell on his knees and uſed the moſt
paſſionat- geſtures of entreaty, while the two others
liſted up their hands to heaven every now and then,
as if they were in ploring God, to help and deliver
them,
Robinson was very much aftonished at this fight,
as he did not know, the meaning of it. But Friday
approached him with an air of triumph, ſaying: Do
you ſee, Mafier, your countrymen eat their priſo-
ners too? Get away, anfwer'd Robinson with ſome -
indignation, that they will not! and thus he conti.
nued obſerving them thro' his perſpective - glaſs.
With abhorrorrence 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 lat down in one place with looks of
forrow and deſpair. This reminded Robinson of his
own deplorable ſituation the day when he was firſt
thrown on this iſland, and he reſolved at all events
411
to allift theſe unbappy people, if they ſhould de.
ſerve it.
Friday was therefore order'd to fetch as many
fire - Jocks, piſtols, ſwords and as much amunition,
as he could carry.
CHRISTOPHER. What is amunition, pray?
FATHER. Powder and ball. - Robinson thought
proper to ſtay where he was, to obſerve, what they
would further undertake. Friday was back in a ſhort
time, and when every thing was ready and their
pieces loaded, they obſerved with pleaſure , that the
liraggling ſailors lay down in the ſhade, one here
and another there, to ſleep away the ſultry heat of
the noon- fun. Robinson waited a quarter of an hour
longer ; then he went boldly up to the three unhappy
men, who were fiill fitting on the ſame ſpot, with
their backs towards him. Being near enough lie
cried: who are you ? at which they ftarted, as if
they had been thunder - ftruck.
• They jumped up, as if they were going to fly
from him; but 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
misfortuno is, and how I can help you ? », I was
maſter of yon ſhip, “ anſwer'd the other; this man
is my mato, and that gentleman, a paſſenger ;“ poin.
ting to his companions. „My men have mutinied,
and taken poflellion of the ſhip. At firli they intens
412
ded to murder; me and theſe two honeſt men , be-
cauſe they did not approve of their conduct; at laſt
however, they were prevailed on to ſpare our lives.
But the mercy they Chew us is even more cruel ,
than death itſelf. For they have now expoſed us on
this deſert illand, where we are ſure, to periſh with
want and miſery."
„On two conditions,“ ſaid Robinson , „ I will
venture my life and blood for your deliverance ! “
» What are they , generous man ? « ſaid the cap-
tain. „ In the firſt place,“ anſwer'd Robinson „ that
you ſhall entirely conform to my orders, as long as
you ſtay in this iſland; and then that you carry me
and my companions to England, in caſe I ſucceed in
putting you again in poſſeſſion of your ſhip.“
. ., We, the ſhip and every thing on board of
her,“ replied the captain , „ are entirely at your diſ-
poſal, replied the Captain.“
„ Well then, " ſaid Robinson, » here is a fire-
lock and a ſword for every one of you , on condi,
tion, that you do not uſe them, till I judge it ne-
ceſary. Your enemie's are all aſleep, one here and
another there, let us therefore try', if we can get
them in our powor without ſhedding any blood."
They ſet forward, and Friday was order'd to
Lake the ropes , with which the three men had been
bound. Now they came up to the firſt ſailor, who
Jay on his face, and was ſo faſt alleep, that' they
lejzed him by his hands and feet, and crammed a
hankerchief in his mouth, before he was well awake.
They tied his hands behind his back, order'd him
413
to remain on the fame ſpot without ſtirring, or
without uttering a ſingle ſyllable , 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 happen'd to his comrades.
Now they went up to the ſecond , who ſhared
the ſame fate. He was tied, placed and threaten'd
in the ſame manner. Fortune or rather divine pro-
vidence appeared on this occaſion the protector of
innocence and avenger of wrongs. There were als
ready fix of theſe wretches tied in the ſame manner,
when the laſt two of them ſuddenly awoke, jumped
up, and took their arms. „ Wretches, cried Robin-
son, look at your companions, ſee our fuperiority,
and ſurrender this moment ! a minute's delay will
coſt you your lives!“
Oh mercy! mercy! captain ! " they cried, throw.
ing down their arms and falling on their knees.
Upon which they were tied like the reft and con-
ducted priſoners to the lately diſcovered cave, where
they were informed, that the firſt, who ſhould ven-
ture 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 floop, 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 immo-
diate uſe.
FERDINAND. Why did they do ſo ?
414
FATŅER. They forelaw, that the people on board
would diſpatch a ſecond boat, in caſe the firti 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 repeated three times , a
ſecond boat put off from the ſhip towards the iſland.
Upon which Robinson retired to the eminence with
luis companions, in order to ſee, what was further
to be done.
The boat landed. The men ran up to the firſt
and their ſurpriſe was exceſlive at finding it on dry
land and a hole in it. They looked about, called
their comrades by their names, but no body anſa
wer'd. They were ten in number, all armed.
Robinson, who had been informed by the cap.
tain , that there were three honeſt lads among the
priſoners, who were forced into the conſpiracy, die
ſpatched Friday and the mate to fetch them in all
poſlible lafte. They arrived, and the captain, who
had in the mean time imparted his deſign to Robin-
son, 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
415
for your paſt conduct. The three failors wept 20)
aloud for joy and gratitude, and killed 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 continued hallocing and firing by turns, in ho-
pes that their firaggling comrades would return. At
lalt, finding that all was in vain , they ſeemed to-
wards night-fall to grow apprehenſive for themſel-
ves, and rowed about a hundred yards from the
ſhore, where they caſt anchor. Now it was to be
feared , left they would in a ſhort time go back to
the Chip, and the whole crew would then give up
their comrades for loft, and ſet Cail; a reflexion which
filled both the captain and Robinson with anxiety.
Luckily, the latter had an idea, which promiſed
themſelves 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 crew halloed. As ſoon
as they perceived, that they liſtened to their call and
were coming on ſhore, they were by degrees to re-
tire further into the wood, and decoy the ſailors af-
ter them as far as poſsible. Then they were to re-
turn to them by another way with the utmoſt ex-
pedition.
This well contrived firatagem ſucceeded comple,
tely, The ſailors in the boat had no ſooner heard a
voice anſwering them, but they rowed in all halte
20) to weep.
416
towards the ſhore, and with their fire locks in their
hands ran towards the place from whence they heard
the voice. Two of them were left behind to look-
after the boat. The
Friday and his companion performed their bufi-
neſs admirably well; for they decoy'd the ſailors al.
moſt two miles up into the woods. Then they re-
turned with all ſpeed to join their commanders. Ro-
binson had in the mean time communicated his whole
plan to the captain, which was ; agaif to endeavour
to get the whole crew in their power, without ſhed-
ding bloodſhed.
During this time it grew quite dark. Robinson
and his companions advanced towards , the boat as
ſoftly as poſible, and were now only about twenty
paces from it, without being in the leaſt obſerved
by the two ſailors, who guarded it. Upon whiclı
jumping forth with a dreadful noiſe and a loud
clattering of their arms, they threaten'd to kill and
deſtroy them, if they dared to ftir. The two ſailors
begged for quarter, were ſeized and had their hands
bound. * '
This done, they made halte to drag this boat
likewiſe a good way on the beach, and retired with
their two priſoners into the neighbouring wood, to
wait for the return of the reſt. Theſe however did
not all come at once, and were exceedingey fatigued
with their fruitleſs rambles. Their aſtoniſhment and
lamentations at the loſs of their boat were unſpeak-
able. As there were five of them, one of the Cailors,
that had been pardon'd, was ſent to aſk them: whe-
417
ther they would immediately and by fair means lay:
down their arms and ſurrender ? If not, the gover-
nor of the iſland had fifty men pofted at a ſmall dife!
tance from them, who were to kill them immedia-
tely: adding that their boat was taken, all their com..
rades 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 bope for pardon ? "
cried one of them at laſt; to whom the captain cal.
led without being ſeen : Thomas Smith, you know
my voice : lay down your arms immediately, and
you ſhall all have your lives granted, except At-
kins: for he had been one of the ring - leaders of the
mutiny.
That moment they all flung down their firelocks,
and Atkins cried out: „Oh! for God's Mercy fake ,
captain, what have Í done more than the reſt who
have been as bad as I. Oh, pardon!“ The captain
anſwer'd; all he could do, was , to intercede for
him with the governor. Wliat effect that would
have, he muſt wait to ſee. Then Friday was ſeno
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 reſiſtance, and ſuffer'd their hands to be
bound likewiſe.
Now the captain and Robinson, who was loc.
ked upon as an officier of the Governor, came up,
and the former choſe ſuch from among the priſon
P
(27)
418
ners, as he thought capable of fincerely repenting the
crime they had committed. Theſe were led 20) to
the entrance of the caſtle, and the reſt to the grotto,
Two of thoſe, who were 'already in the cavern ,
were alſo fetched back, becauſe the captain thought
them equally diſpoſed to return to their duty. :
... What he did with them, and what further hap-
pen'd, will be the object of our next converſation.
(20) to lead.
419
THIRTIETH EVENING.
FATHER. Now, my children, the adventures of
our Robinson draw near to end. His fate will be
decided in a few hours; we Chall ſee, whether he
muft remain in his iſland without hopes of any de-
liverance, or whether his ardent wiſh of ſeeing his
parents again, will be granted him at length ?
The only queſtion is, whether or not the cap-
tain can recover his ſhip with the affiſtance 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 cafile. Robinson informed them,
in the name of the governor, that their crime ſhould
be pardon'd on condition, of affifting their lawful
maſter in recovering the Chip. They all gave the moſt
ſolemn allurances, that they would willingly and
420
faithfully ſubmit to this condition. Robinson now
added, that by this means they would not only ſave
their own lives, but the lives of their comrades ,
who were ftill inconfinement, and who, if the ſhip
was not recoverd, were all to be hanged the next more
ning at break of day, without any diſtinction.
This fentence was likewiſe communicated to the
priſoners.' 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 carpenter was ordered to re-
pair the firſt boat with all poſible 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 anu-
nition, and Robinson having ſhaken hands with the
captain wiſhed him ſucceſs in his undertaking. The
boats went off.
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 have broke looſe, they might have
taken poffeffion of his caſtle; and this only ſecure
retreat, which at the ſame time contained all the
means of his happineſs, was too. important, to be
expoſed with ſo much levity. Even the captain ad-
viſed him to ſtay there with Friday , , to defend that
place.
421
Robinson, whoſe deſtiny was uow to be deci-
ded, was too agitated in his mind to be eaſy aby-
where. Sometimes he ſat down in his cave, ſome.
times he mounted on the wall, then again he went
up his ropeladder, to hearken from the top of the
hill during the fiillneſs of the night, whether he
could not hear any thing from that quarter where
the Chip lay. Tho' he had not tafted a morſel the
whole day, yet it was impoffible 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, whiclı-was the fignal agreed
upon, in caſe the undertaking proved ſucceſsful. He
recollected however, that it was wrong in him to
abandon himſelf entirely to fear and hope, and ſea.
ſonably remembered a maxim , which he had, but
lately commended to Friday, and which was ; that
in doubtful caſes you muſt always expect the worſt.
If this worli caſe do not happen, ſo much the bet-
ter for you! But if iç do, it will not put you out
of countenance.
According to this principle Robinson imagined
the ill ſucceſs of the undertaking as certain , and
fummon’d up all his firmneſs and reſignation in di.
vine providence, to bear this new firoke 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 rouled from his flun-
ber and liſtened. Bounce! a ſecond report, and then
a third. And now he did not in the leaft doubt of
422
the captain's ſucceſs in recovering the Chip, and of
his approaching deliverance.
In the heat of his joy, more fying, than wal-
king, he hurried down the rope-ladder, ſeized Fri-
day, who ſat nodding on a bank of ſods , preſſed
him to his boſom and bedew'd his face with many
tears', without uttering a ſingle word. „What's the
matter , maſter ? " ſaid Friday , awaking from his
flumber , quite ſurpriſed at theſe impetuous careſſes
But Robinson in the exceſs of his joy could ſay no.
thing, but: Ah, Friday !
„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 ma-
fter ! " ſaid he to him, and was going to take him
by the arm , to lead him into the cave. But Robin-
son with unſpeakable affability anſwer'd : to ſleep,
dear Friday? I ſleep now, at tlie very moment Hea-
ven has granted me the accompliſhment of the only
wiſh of my heart ? Did not you hear the three guns?
Don't you know as yet, that the ſhip is recoverd ?
Now Friday's eyes were open'd. Now he alſo
rejoiced but more on his dear maſter's account than
on his own. For the thought of leaving his own
native climate for ever damped the pleaſure of going
with Robinson and his father to a country, of which
he had already ſeen ſo many ſurpriſing things, and
where he expected to ſee fill greater wonders.
Robinson was now more uneaſy, than ever,
with mere extaly. Sometimes he went up the hill,
fell on his knees under the ſtarry vault of heaven,
423
to thank God for his deliverance; then he deſcended
again, embraced his Friday, ſpoke of nothing but
Hamburgh, and began already to pack up his goods.
Thus he paft 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 fight of the ſhip , the inſtrument of his
deliverance. The moment arrived; but — Heaven !
how great was his terror, when he faw with per-
fect certainty, - that the ſhip had diſappear'd! He
gave a loud out - cry, and fell down to the ground.
Friday came running to him, but was a long
time before he could imagine; what was the matter
with his maſter. At length Robinson ftretched his
trembling hand towards the ſea, and ſaid with a
weak dying voice: look there ! Friday looked , and
immediately underſtood his maſter. (The young com-
pany did not know., how to behave in this place.
They would willingly have abandon'd themſelves to
joy, becauſe they hoped, this incident would pro-
long the father's narration ; but their compaſſion of
Robinson's former misfortunes reftrained this rifing
joy, and did not fuffer it to break out. They all
obſerved therefore a profound filence; and the father
continued.)
Our Robinson here teaches us by his own ex- -
ample, how much even good people, who have im-
proved their minds, ought to be on their guard, to
prevent their being overcome by the violence of their
424
paſfions. If Robinson's joy had not been ſo immo-
derate before ; he would not have been ſo exceſſively
grieved afterwards; and if his grief had not lo en-
tirely darken’d his reaſon : he would have known ,
that ho muſt likewiſe in this particular ſubmit to di-
vine providence with relignation, tho' his moſt fan-
guine wiſhes were defiroyed 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 diſtreſs ;, and this reflexion would
have tranquiliſed him. Look, children , how much
even the beſt men find to mend in themſelves !
Whilft Robinson lay there ſo comfortleſs , and
Friday endeavour'd to ſooth him, they ſuddenly lieard
à noise on the other ſide of the hill, as from the
ſteps of many people. They jumped up, turned their
eyes towards that place, and perceived with agree-
able aſtoniſhment. - ihe captain with ſome of his
people coming up the hill. At one jump Robinson
had claſped him in his arms! When he turned ab-
out, he ſaw the Chip at an anchor in a ſmall creek
on the weſtern fide, and in that ſame moment all
his grief vaniſh’d. This light convinced him at once,
that the captain had alter'd his ſtation before day-
break, and brought the ſhip to that ſide of the il-
land , where it might lie at an anchor in a conve-
nient harbour,
Robinson lay a long while in filent extaſyon
the neck of the captain, who was no leſs rejoiced
than he, till at laſt they began to congratulate and
thank each other. Then the captain related him in
425
what manner he had ſucceeded in recovering his ſhip,
without wounding or killing one 'man. The dark.
neſs of the night, preventing the mutineers to ſee
him, they made no difficulty în admitting his com-
panions. The worſt of the rebels had afterwards in-
deed offer'd to make reſiſtance ; but without ſucceſs.
They were ſeized and laid in irons. - Upon which
he indnlged his gratitude to his deliverer. „ It is *
you , ſaid he, whilſt a tèar ſtarted in his eye; it is
you, generous man, whoſe compaſſion and prudence
have ſaved me and my ſhip. There it is! it is yours;
diſpoſe of it and of me, as you think proper. Then
le ſent for ſome refreſhments, which he had brought
from * on board, and now they ſat down to an
agreeable breakfaft with cheerful hearts,
In the mean time Robinson related his ſtrange
and marvellous adventures to the captain, which
more than once excited in him the greateſt aſtoniſh-
ment. Then the captain begged Robinson to tell
him, wliat he ſhould do for him now; and Robin-
son anſwer’d: ,, Beſides the conditions I made with
you for my affiftance, 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 ſea
cond is, to take all the Spaniards , belides me and
my houſhold on board, and ſail firſt to Gadiz, there
to land them. The third is to pardon the chief mu-
tineers, and leave them in the iſland inſtead of any
other puniſhment; becauſe I am ſure, this is the
beſt method of mending them.
426
The captain having aſſured him, that every thing
hould be punctually obſerved to his deſire, he ſent for
the priſoners ; choſe the worft from * among them,
and announced them their ſentence. They were very
glad to hear it, becauſe they knew, that according
to law, they had forfeited their lives. Our good na-
tured Robinson gave them inſtructions, how to get
their livelihood, and promiſed to leave them his
whole ſtock of tools, furniture and cattle. He ada
monilh'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 tliis iſland exceedingly agreeable. .
Whilft he was ftill 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 fa-
ther's neck, long before the reſt came up.
Robinson Caw with ſurpriſe, that there were two
women among his new gueſts ; and upon inquiry,
old Thursday informed him: that they were the wi-
ves of two Spaniards , whom they had choſen among
the natives of their iſland. As ſoon as the two Spa-
niards were informed, that Robinson was going to
quit the iſland, and leave fome failors 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 favoura-
ble accounts they hed heard of this illand.
427
Robinson conſented to this requeſt with pleaſure.
He was glad, that a couple of men fhould remain
upon his iſland, whom all their comrades gave the
beſt character becauſe be hoped, they would keep the
other bad fellows in an regular and peaceful courſe
of life. For which purpoſe he reſolved to make all
the reft dependant on theſe two.
He called them all together, to let them know
his will. There were fix Engliſhmen, and the two
Spaniards with their wivès. Robinson ſpoke to them
as follows ::
1, None of you I hope will diſpute me the right
I have of diſpoſing of my property as I pleaſe : 1
mean of this whole iſland and every thing in it.' -
But I wiſh, that every one of you that remains here,
may do well. This requires a regular difpofition of
things, and I have a right to make it, I declare therc-
fore, that the two Spaniards ſhall be looked upon
as my ſubfiitutes, and be the lawful maſters of this
iſland. It is therefore the duty of the reſt of you ,
to pay them the firicteft obedience. They alone ſhall
inhabit my cafile; they alone ſhall be the truftees of
all the arms, all the ammunition, and all the tools ;
but they ſhall likewiſe be obliged to lend the reft.
of you, what you have occaſion for, on condition,
that you live peaceably and orderly in every reſpect.
In caſe of danger, you ſhall affift each other ; if
there be labours, either in the fields or garden, you
ſhall all work together and divide the crop among
you. Perhaps I may 'once have occalion to enquire
after you; perhaps I may reſolve one day to return
428
myſelf, and ſpend the reſt of my days in this iſland,
that is now ſo dear to me. Then woe to him, who
ſhall have infringed my regulations! He ſhall be ſet
adrift in a ſmall boat, without mercy, and commit-
ted to the ſea in a ſtorm."
They all teſtified their ſatisfaction at this diſpo-
fition, 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 clo-
thés, which he had himſelf made of ſkins, together
with the umbrella and maſk ; 2) the lance the bow
and the fione hatchet; 3) his Poll, his dog and two
lamas ; 4) all ſorts of tools and inftruments of his
own making, when alone *; and at laſt 5) the gold
duli, diamonds., and his large lump of gold.
After having got all theſe things on board, and
the wind favourable, their departure was fixed for
the next day. Upon which Robinson and Friday
prepared a dinner for the entertainment of the cap-
tain and the new colony. They ſerved the beſt they
had, and the victuals were ſo well dreſled, that the
captain could not ſufficiently praiſe Robinson's ſkill
in the art of cookery. To follow the noble exam-
ple of his hoſt and at the ſame time to contribute
ſomething to the happineſs of the colony, he ſent
on board for a quantity of proviſions, gun-powder,
iron and tools, which he left as a preſent behind him.
.. Towards evening Robinson begged to be an
hour alone, becauſe lie had ſtill ſome buſineſs of im-
portance to ſettle before his departure. Every body
429
with - drawing he aſcended the hill, to revolve in
his mind the whole hiſiory of his abode in this iſ
land, and to pour out his whole heart in filial gra-
titude to God. It is impoffible for me to expreſs : his
pious and grateful ſentiments in words; but who-
ever has a heart like his, needs none of my defcrip-
. tion; 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 la-
borious, and pious life, he recommended them with
a fraternal heart to the protection of the Almighty
who had led him in ſo wonderful a: manner. He
then looked round him once more; and thanked God
for his miraculous preſervation and preſent delive:
rance; then with a voice half fiifed , he bade his laſt
farewell! and went on board , attended by Friday and
Thursday. . "
:
Som£. Oh dear! Now 'tis all over.. ..s
John. Have -patience! Who knows, whetlier
ſome new obſtacle may prevent his departure. i
FATHER. The wind was ſo freſh and favour-
able, that the iſland ſeemed to fly away behind them.
As long as Robinson could ſee it, he ftood in mourn-
ful ſilence on deck with his eyes fixed on the belo..
ved iſland., which had been his abode for twelva
years; and the manifold hardſhips: he hadi ſuffered
there, had endeard it ſo much to him, as if it had
been his native country. Having at:length loft light
of the top of the higheſt mountain, he look'd up to
heaven, repeating in his thoughts: Now thank ye
450
all the Lord etc.! Upon which he went dovýn into
thie captain's cabin, together with Thursday and Fri-
day, to relieve his oppreſſed heart by a friendly con.
verſation.
• Their voyage was very proſperous. In four and
twenty days they reached Cadiz, where the Spa-
niards were landed. Robinson went along with then,
to enquire for the merchant', whoſe gold - duſt be
had ſaved. He found him, and had the ſatisfaction,
of freeing this honeſt man from the greateſt difficul-
ties. The loſs of his ſhip had been the cauſe of his
becoming bankrupt.
:: FREDERIC. What is 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 bankrupt. :
• The little barrel of gold - duft was more than
fufficient to pay the merchant's debts. The grateful
man offer'd the remainder as a preſent to his bene-
factor; but he was far from accepting it, being, ſaid
he, ſufficiently rewarded by the conſciouſneſs of ha-
ving prevented the ruin of an honeſt man.
From Cadix they ſet ſail for England. During
this voyage a melancholy accident arrived. Old Thurs-
day fell ſuddenly ill, and died notwithſtanding all
their endeavours to ſave him. You may eaſily jma-
gine, what Friday ſuffered on this occafion, and how
exceſſively he lamented the death of fo beloved a fa-
ther. Neither could the two lamas bear the ſea, and
died likewiſe.
431
The ſhip arrived ſafe at Portsmouth, a well
known harbour in England. Here Robinson hoped.
to find the officer's widow, to whom he would de
liver the diamonds. He found her; but in the moſt
indigent circumliances. Having received no ſupport
from her deceaſed husband in the Eaft-indies, for
two years ſhe and her children were by degrees re-
duced to the greateſt poverty. They were ſcarce co-
ver'd with ſome 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 familh'd family in a few days fouriſh again ,
like a plant almoſt faded, after a : warm refreſhing
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 fhip 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 Hanburgh vellel, which foon 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 light of which his heart
was ready to burſt for joy; now they inade the
mouth of the Elbea when ſuddenly a violent form
432
1
with thunder and lightening aroſe', which carried
the vellel upon the Chore with irrefiftible violence:
They employ'd all their ſkill and activity to turn
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 pourd in with
ſuch impetuofity, that they could not think of fa-
ving her, ſo that the crew had foarce time to jump
into their boats, to ſave their own lives, if poſſible.
Thus Robinson and his companions arrived at laſt
at Cuxhaven Chipwrecked. and poor, without ha-
ving Caved any of all his riches , except his faithful
dog, that 'ſwam aftev liim, and liis Poll, that hap-
pend to fit 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 entirely loft.
John.. Oh, poor Robinson ! !:
. FATHER. He is now, juſt: as rich. as he was ,
when formerly, he went off froin Hamburgh. Per-
haps Providence made him loſe every thing again,
to prevent any giddy young man or other from being
tempted by the fight of his riches , to follow his
example, and wander thro' the wide world, in ho-
pes of returning like him with treaſures found by
chance, Aš to Robinson, he did not greatly lament
this loſs. For as he had firmly reſolved to paſs the
433
reſt of his days in the ſame uninterrupted laborious-
neſs 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 vef-
fel, that was going from Cuxhaven. When they
were off Stade, he could ſee the fieeples of his native
city, at which fight he could not forbear weeping
for extaſy. In four hours time at furtheft he would
be there, and in the arms of his dearly beloved fa-
ther. At Cuxhaven he had been informed of his
good mother's death, which he grievously lamented.
Now the veſſel Rew by Blankeneſe, borne by a
ftrong tide and a fair wind ; preſently after they pal-
led Neuenſtaedten, then Altona, and now they were
in the barbour of Hamburgh. His heart was in the
greateſt agitation, when he got on ſhore, and if it
had not been for the people, he would have fallen
on his face to kiſs his native ſoil. He haften'd thro'
'a crowd of faring 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 per-
fon come with agreeable news from his ſon ; and
then, that his ſon was himſelf on his return for
Hamburgh; and in fine, that the perſon, who brought
this agreeable news, was his ſon himſelf. If Robin-
son had not uſed this precaution, ſuch an exceſs of
joy might have overpower'd and killed his old father.
*) A large tavern near the harbour, belonging to the
City:
(28)
434
And now Robinson himſelf flew thro' the well
known fireets, to his father's houſe. He enters ;
falls into his father's arnis, who ſtood trembling for
joy, with ſuch extaſy as cannot be deſcribed. My
Father! My fon! This was all they could utter. Si.,
lent, trembling and breathleſs they clung 21) to each
other, till at laſt a flood of tears-relieved their op-
preſled hearts.
Friday ftood in the mean time faring in filent
aftoniſhment at the numberleſs wonderful things ,
that appear'd before his eyes. He could not ſatiate his
curioſity, and was the firſt whole day quite confoun
ded. -
The report of Robinson's return and ſurpriſing
adventures ran like lightening thro' the town. Every
one ſpoke of Robinson; every one wiſhed to ſee him;
they all defired to hear the hifiory of his adventures
from his own mouth! His father's houſe therefore
was ſoon like a public allemibly; and Robinson was
obliged to tell his hiſtory from morning till night ,
without mercy. Whilft he was relating, he did not
forget to cry out now and then to the fathers and
mothers preſent: Ye parents, if you love your child-
ren, accuftom them betimes to a pions , 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 ma-
fters ; learn diligently every thing you find occaſion
to learn ; fear God, and beware - oh beware of idle-
neſs, the mother of every vice.
21) to cling.
435
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 fince many.
years had been uſed to the pleaſure of working with
his hands, begged his father, to ſuffer him to be a
joiner ; and his father left it to his own option. He
therefore bound himſelf apprentice to a maſter , to-
gether with Friday, and before the end of a year ,
they had learned every thing, ſo that they were able
to become mafiers themſelves.
Upon which they ſet up a ſhop in company to,
gether; and remained inſeparable friends and affiftants
for life. Induſtry and fobriety were become their
ſecond nature, to ſuch a degree, that it was impoſ-
ſible for them to ſpend but half a day in idleneſs,
In remembrance of their former ſolitary life, they
apppointed one day in the week, on which they en-
deavour'd, as well as they could , to live on the
ſame footing. Concord, between themſelves, indul.
gence for the faults of others , readineſs to ſerve
them, and humanity to all men were virtues ſo ha- .
bitual to them, that they could not comprehend ,
how people could live without practiſing them. They
were particularly diftinguiſhed by their pure, undiſ-
ſembled and active piety. Whenever they pronoun-
ced the name of God, joy and love for him fpark.
led in their eyes; and they ſhudder'd, when at any
time they heard others pronounce that holy name
with levity and inconſiderateneſs. The bleſſing of
heaven allo crown'd all their undertakings in a vifi-
ble manner. They attained to a great age, in peace,
436
health and učeful activitý, and the lateſt polierity
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 re-
main'd for ſome time fitting in a penſive poſture ,
till at laſt the thought: I will do fo too! ripen'd' into
a firm reſolution.
VOCABULARY
TO
C A M P E’S ROBINSON
FOR
BEGINNERS IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE
A NE W REVISED
Second edition improved.
W órterbuch
zu den
Ca m per ch en Robin ron
für
Anfänger in der Engliſchen Sprache
neu bearbeitete
3 tu e yte gerberrerte ##fage.
V
Frankfurt am Mayn,
bei Friedri 2 il man f.
2 8 07.
437
Er f I å rung
der in dieſem Buche vorkommenden Wörter
und Redensarten,
Von den Abkürzungen bedeutet:
S. (Subſtantiv) Adj. (Adjectiv) udv. (Adverbium)
Pråp. (Pråpoſition) Pl. (Pluralis) Impf. (Impers
fectum) Part. (Participiumi) V.U. (Verbum activum)
V. n. (Verbum Neutrum) fig. (figürlich).
Durch den ) iſt der gerdårfte, durch den (')
der gedelynte Ton der Solbe bezeichnet wordeit
jedod iſt die Ausſprache des ro accentuirten Vorals
nicht immer derfelbe.
A. (Einbeitsartifel) ein,
eine, vor Wörtern, die
mit einem Dokal oder
ftummen h anfangen an.
an aſs, an ignorant boy,
an hour. 2) vertritt oft
den beſtimmtem Urtifel,
und einige Průpoſition
nen. Twice a day (the)
zweymaldes Tages. There
we go on board a ſhip
(of a) da geben wir an
Bord eines Soiffes (zu
Soiffe). Ile did not go
a hunting (on) er ging
nicht auf die Jagd. Es
wird auch wohl mit den
Haupt- und Zeitwertern
eurammengezogen. 3. B.
Ile is yet alleep (in) er
438
.
rolåft tiod. He had much to prove abortive, fehls
ado (to) er batte viel ſchlagen, niot einſchla-
Múbe. He cane afoot: gen.
(on) er fam zu Fuße. to Abound. V. A. to abound
they went aſhore Con) in a thing, einen Weber-
fie gingen ans Land. fluß woran baben. 2) V.
to Abándon. V. A verlaſſen, N. überflüſſig vorhanden
aufgeben. to abandon reyn.
himſelf to joy, fid der About. Pråp. um, about
Freude überlaffen. his waiſt, um den Unters
Abaſhed, beſihåmt. : leib. 2) daber auch bei).
to Abate als V. N. abnet: I have no money about
men. the ſtorm abated a me, id babe fein Geld
little, der Sturm legte bed-mic. 3) gegen. (Nås
fich, ein wenig.
be der Zeit) about noon,
to Abhór. V. 4. verabs gegen Mittag +) An,
rdeuen.
auf. (Ort zu bezeichnen)
Ability. S. die Fähigkeit, about the port, am Has
Geſchicklichkeit.
fen. about the fields,
Able (ſp elb']). Adj. fåbig, auf den Feldern. 5) úber,
vermögend, im Stande. in Anrebung. what I
Abode. D. der Aufenthalt. told you about Cod, was
to Abóliſh. V. 4. vertilgen. id eud uber den Stod
2) abroaffen. to aboliſh fild erzählt habe. 6) ulls
a bad cuſtom, eine üble gefábyr, of about fix dol.
Gewohnheit abroaffen. lars value, ungefähr rece
Abóminable. Adj. abideu: Thaler werth). Adv. tum,
lid.
beruni. to run about,
to Abóminate. V.2. verabs berumlaufen. wliere
roeuen.
about, wo berum, in
Abórtive f. verunglüft. welder Gegend. where
439
about the ſhip was. 2) Abſorbed. (Part. 8. to
mit dem Zeitwort to be Abſorb.) abſorbed in
bedeutet es, im Begriff thoughts, in Nachdenken
reyn. He was about to verſunken, in tiefen Ges
go. Er war im Begriffe danken.
ou geben.
Abundance. S. der Ueber.
Above. Pråp. úber, (dem fluß.
Orte nad ) above his 'to Abùſe. V.2. mißbrauchen
cavern, über ſeiner Höhs Abiiſe. Š. Der Mißbrauc.
le. to keep a ſhip above Abyſs. S. der Abgrund.
water, ein Schiff flott to Accépt. V. A. annebs
erhalten. 2) uber (der men. (oft mit der Pars
Zeit nach), above fix tifel of) I ſhould accept
hours, über 6 Stunden. of your preſent ? io folle
3) vor, (erhaben úber), te Ihr Geſchenk anneh.
above all things, vormen?
allen Dingen. Udv. Oben Acceptable. Adj. annems
Above mentioned, oben lich angenehm, wills
gedact, oben ermåbnt. fommen.
Abroad (ſp. abrahd), udv. Accident. S. der Zufall.
aurten, auſſer dem Hauſe. Accidentally. Adv.zufällig.
to go abroad, ausgeben. to Accompany. V: A. bes
Abruptly. Adv. proglio, gleiten.
underſebens.
to Accompliſh. V. 4. 34
Abſence. S. die Abweſens Stande bringen, ens
best.
Abſent. Adj. abweſend. Accompliſhment. S. Ers
Abſolute, an abſolute king. füllung. the accompliſh-
ein unumſchrånfterftonig ment of this precept, die
Abſolutely. udv. völlig, Beobachtung dieſer Vors
durdaus.
førift.
digen.
440
Accord: S. If you do it of rúſtung, (Ausſtaffirung)
your own accord, wenn Rüſtung.
Ihr es fieywillig thút! to Accìſe. V. 4. anflagen,
According (mit to) in Gerberouldigen. to accuſe
mdßheit, nach. Accord himſelf, rich Vorwürfe
ing to his cuſtom, reiner machen.
Gewojnbeit nach. to Accuíſtom. V. 4. gemob.
Accordingly. Adv. dem ges nen.
måß, dem nado, folglid. Accuſtomed. Part. gea
to Accoint. V. 4. (figúri.) woont.
Grund für etwas ango. Ache (fp. ehk”) (ake). S.
ben. he was to account anbaltender Schmerz.
forit, er foute Mecnung the headache, Stopfo
(Recenidaft) davon romerzen.
ablegen.
to Acknowledge. V. U. er:
Account. S. die Rednung. fennen. 2) mit Dane
account of time, Zeits erkennen.
rednung. 2) Nachricht, Acknowledgement. Subſt.
Ausfunft. 3) die Urſache Dankbarfeit.
der Grund. Upon this Acorn. S. die Eidel.
account, aus dieſem to Acquaint. V. 4. benados
Grunde. on what ac- . richtigen, (mit with,
count? aus welcher Urs und of).
rache ? on his account, · Acquaintance. S. Befannts
um ſeinetwillen. on ac- fchaft. 2) ein Befannter,
count of the rain, des Acquainted. Part. He got
Regens halber.
acquainted with him, pe
to Accoutre, (ip. akkuhtr) wurde befannt mit ibor.
» 4. audiomucen, aus: to Acquieſce. V. 4. (mit
puren.
in und to) fick etwas ger
Accoutrement. S. die Aus's fallen laſſen.
441
to Acquire. V. A. erwers Addréfs. S. Geſchidlics
ben, erlangen.
feit, Kunſt.
Acrófs. Adv. quer, freuz- Adieu, (ſp. adju), udv.
weiſe, with his arms franz. adieu , Gott.be:
acroſs, mit übereinander fohlen, levwohl. to bid
gelolagenen Arinen. adieu, Abſchied nehmeil.
to Act. B. 4. Handeln. 2) Adjoining. Part. v. to ad-
einen Cbarafter vorſtels : join, anhangend, ans
len, to act the King, den grångend. the adjoining
König (die Nolle des fie, pięce, das Stüc aunddit.
· nigs) ſpielen. . to Adjourn. V. #. Uura
Act.S.eine Handlung, That fdieben, verføieben auf
Áčtion. S.Handlung, Wir: einen andern Tag.
fung. 2) ein Gefecht. Admirably. udv. bewun:
. a bloody action, ein blus dernswirdig.
tiges Gefecht: : to Admire. V. 4. bewuns
Active. Adj. thätig, emſig. dern.
Activity. S. Wirffainfeit, to Admít. V. A. to admit
Dbåtigkeit, Bebendisfeit. one, jemand binzulaſſen,
Actially. adv. wirklich aufnemen.
to Adápt. V. 4. anpaſſen to Admoniſh. V. 4. crins
mit to.
nern.
to Add. S. binzufügen. Admonition. S. die Erina
to Addict. V. 4. widmen nerung, Warnung.
weibeni.
Ado (fp. ädu) (ſtatt to do?)
to Addréfs. V. 4. richten. Mibe, Berdwerde, al-
He adreſsed his prayers ter much ado, mit vieler
to God, verrichtete rein Mübe.
Gebet an Gott. 2) (als to Adore. V. A. anbeten.
Reciprocum) fid an ies to Adórn. V. A. aussieren.
mand menden.
rihmuiden.
442
Adrift. Udv. meg, fort. Affability. S.Seutſelig feit,
to ſet adrift, forttreiben Herablaſſung.
laſſen auf dem Waſſer. Affáir. S. ein Geldaft.
10 Advance, V. . vor: to Afféct. V. 4. rühren.
wärts bringen, befördern. Affected. Part. den Sdyein
V. N. fortråden. the day von etwas haben. affected
was already far advån. ſenſibility, affectirte, art,
ced, es war soon weit genonimene, nicht natür.
am Tage.
lide Gefühle.
Advancement. S. der Forts Afféction. S. die Rúbrung,
ſchritt, das Fortſchreiten, · 2) Zuneigung, Zárts
Wachstbum. . lidyfeit.
Advántage. S. der Vor: Affirmàtion. S. die Bes
theil, to take advantage. jabung.
of a thing, etwas bes Affirmative. Udj. bejaber:d.
nutzen.
auch ſubſtant. gebraudt.
Advantageously. Adv.dor: to be anſwer'd in the
theilhafterweiſe.
affirmative, eine bejaben:
Adventure. S. ein Zufall, de Antwort erbalten.
Abenteuer, Begebenbeit to Afflict. V. A. betrüben,
Advéı lily. S. Widerwårs frånfen.
tingeit, ' Elend.
Affliction. S. Leideii, Irůbs
Advice. S. der Rath, An: rab. 2) Betribuit.
schlag. 2) Napricht. Affluence. Sider Ueberfluß.
Adviſable. 401. rathram. to Affórd. V. 4. berpor:
to Adviſe. V. 4. rathen. to bringen. 2) gewahrene
adviſe with his pillow, verſwaffen.
etwas im Bette überle: to Affright. V. U. erſchref.
gen, beſclafen.
fen, in Furcht repen.
Afár. Asv. fern. from afar Affright. S. der Søreifen,
von ferne.
die plötzliche Furớt.
A
443
Afloat. 480. Flott, (ſchwims
mend) they got the boat
afloat, fie magten den
Kabn wieder flott.
Afraid. Adj. bange, beſorgt
(mit of) He was afraid
of the winter, ibm war
vor dem Winter bange.
After. Práv. nac, binter
(dem Orte nad). Udv.
11ad), nadber (von der
Zeit). 2018 Conjunction
- nachdem.
Afternoon. S. der Nacha
mittag.
Áfterwards. Adp.nachmals,
bernad.
Agáin (fp. ägenn). Adv.
wieder, wiederum.
Agáinfi. Práp. wider, ges
gen. 2) fig. an. I'll lix
the map againſt the tree,
id will die fandkarte an
dem Baume befeſtigen.
Age. S. das Ulter. he was
ſeventeen years of age, er
war in einem Alter vont
liebengebn Jafren. 2)
Das Zeitalter, Zeitraum.
the preſent age. Die jest
lebenden Menſchen, die.
jellige. Generation.
Aged. Adj. bejabrt, ait.
to Agitate. V. 4. in Bewer
gung reben., the ſtorm
agilated the fea ,, der
Sturm durdwubite das
Meer. 2) fig. in beftis
der Gemüthsbewegung
rerni, innigſt gerührt
reyn. 2. B to be agitated
in his mind, febrerouts
· tert reyn.
Agitation. S. fig. die Wals
lung, agitation of blood.
Agó. Adv. vergangen, long
ago, roon lange two
years ago, feit, vor zwey
Jahren.
Agony. Sider Todesfamipfe
die Bodešanait. wieder
Deftige Somerg. Ago-
ny of grief, tiefer Stumn-
mier.
to Agree. V. N. ibercin:
flimmen. 2) fid verrras
gel, the goat agreed
with the Lana's, die
Ziege vertrug lid gut mic
den Lamas. 3) cinwilik.
gen, to agree to a propa-
AL
444
fal, ist einen Vorfólag Alive, adj. lebendig.
einwilligen
All. Adj. All, Ale, all of
Agreeable adj. angenehm. you, ihr alle. 2) ga1181
Agreeably. Adv. auf eine all night, die ganze Nacht.
angenehme Art.
not at all, ganz und gar
Agrèed. Part. it was agreed niot. 3) als Subſtan-
upon, es wurde ausge: tiv gebraucht. They ha-
madt. agreed, als Interj. ve packed up their alls,
Dopp!
Sie baben ibre Hague
Agreement. S. der Vera zuſummen sepackt. 4)
gleid, Vertrag.
Adv. Bang, all of a ſud-
Agriculture. S. der Land- den, ganz plößlich.
bau.
to Alláy. V. 4. Schweden,
Agne (ſp. ehgju”). S. ein to allay the violence of
mit Froſt und Hiße als his liunger, reinen befs
wechſelndes Fieber. tigen Hunger ſtillen.
Ah. (Interjection) ach! to Alleviale. V. 4. erleich
tern, lindern. an alle-
Alm. S. das Ziel, he took viating ſweat, pin era
his aim better, er zielte quidender Schweiß.
bеffеr.
Alleviation. S. die kinder
Air. S. die Miene. an air rung, Erleichterung.
of familiarity, ein treu. Alley. S. eine Alee.
lides Weſen.
to Allow (ſp. ällau) V. A.
Àir. S. die Luft.
zugeben, einräumen, geo
Àke. P. ache.
fteden. 2) erlauben. He
to Alirm. V. A. in Echref, was allowed to play,
fen rellen.
man erlaubte ihm zu
Alórm, S. die Beſtürzung. ſpielen. '
Alás (Jlnterjection) Achy! Allowable. Adj. erlaubt,
leider!
perſtattet, zugeſtanden.
445
All - ſeeing Adj. eurehend. Already 480. (don.
to Allude mit to anſpielen Allo, udv.aud, eben ſo.
auf etwas, etwas im Sins to Alter V, 4. åndern, ab:
ne baben. (meynen) indern, Weråndern, his
to Allire v. 4. anfoden circumſtances were al-
reißen.
ter'd, ſeine Umſtånde bats
All-wiſe #dj duweiſe. ten fich verändert.
Ally S. der Bundesge- Alternately Adv. medfels.
по те.
meiſe.
Álmanack S. der Stalens Although (verfürst) Altho'
der. Almanad).
(Conjunction) vugleid.
Almighty A. Almidtig. Always udv. allzeit, ims
Almond (fp. ämmond) f. mer.
die Mandel.
Am, I am id bin, von
Almoft udv. faſt, beynahe. to be.
Alone udj. 4. Adv. allein. to Amaze V. A. in Erftaus
Let them alone, lagt ſie nen reden, he was ama-
nur, laßt ſie zufrieden! zed, er erſtaunte.
Alóng Udv. långs. 2) in Amazement S. 098. Ers
Geſellſchaft, mit. If he ftaunen, 2) die Beſturs
would go along with zung.
him, ob er mit ihm ges Amen Adv. Amen! Es
ben wollte. (NB. die werde wabr! das gebe
Práp. with darf dann Gott!
nicht ausgelaſien wer: to Aménd V. 4. Ein Ding
den.) He took them verbeſſern, to amend his
along with him home, condition reine fage,
Er nahm ſie mit ſich nach Zuſtand verbefferit. 2) a18
Hauſe.
P. N. beiter werden,
Aloud Udv. laut, mit laus fic Deffern.
ter Stimme.
Amendement. S. die Befo
446
ferung, Sinnebåndes ehmals.
rung
Ancle f. Ankle.
Aménds S. Errat, to make And (Conjunction) und.
himſelf amends, fich ent: Anèw Udv. von neuen,
rdådigen.
noch einmal.
América S. Umerifa, an Anger S.Zorn, unwille.
American, ein Amerje Angry Adj. zornig, unges
faner.
halten, aufgebract.
Amils udv. unfiglich. It Anguiſh S. die Ungft.
would not be amiſs , Animal S. das Tbier.
88 wirde niot übel reyn. Animal Adj, thieriſo.
Ammunition S. Uniunie tº Animate V. 4. beleben,
tion, Pulver und Bley. beſeelen, 2) aufmun-
Amóng , Amongſt Pråv. tern.
unter.
. Ankle, Ancle S. der Kines
Anple Adi. weit. 2) reich: chel am Fuße.
lid, to make himſelf Annals S. Pl. die Jahr:
ample amends, ſich reid: bicher, Annalen.
lid entidadigen. to Annex V. U. anbången
to Amule V. 4. fic die anfnúpfen, beyfügen.
Zeit vertreiben.
to Announce V. 4. ans
Amuſement S. die Unters fúndigen.
haltung, Zeitvertreib. Annual Adj. jährlich.
An. (f. A.) ein, eine. Anóther ud. ein andrer,
Anchor S. der Unter; to one another, einander.
caſt anchor fich vor An: to Anſwer V. A. antwoors
fer legen, to weigh an- ten, 2) fig. entſprechen,
chor den anfer lidten. erfiillen, 10 anſwer an
Ancient 281. Allt, aus vos end, eine Beſtimmung
rigen Zeiten
erreiden. The ſame pur-
Anciently Ad. vor Ulters, poſe ju gleidem Zwede
447
dienen.
ein wenig, any more,
Anſwer S. die Untwort. etwas mehr, any lon-
Anſwerable ud. veranto . ger, etwas länger.
mortlid 2) gemäß, ent- Ape S, der affe.
ſprechend.
to Appear V. N. erſ einen,
Antic oder Antick udj. relt: 2) erbellen.
fam, lächerlich. Ansick Appearance, S. die Ers.
gefiures poſſierliche Ge- ſcheinung, he made his
bebrden.
appearance er erſdien 2)
Anticipate V. 4. vorem das außere Anleben. His
pfinden, he anticipated appearance was majeliic,
the joy, er batte das rein Aeußeres war maje:
Vorgefihl der Freude. ftatiſch. 3) Anſchein in
Antitodo S. ein Gegen, all appearance allem øn:
gift. Jede Arznen die ſcheine nad.
einem Uebel entgegen. Appetite S. Eßluft, Ap
wirft. Gegenmittel. petit, Hunger.
Antipode adj. Gegenfuiße Apple S. der Apfel.
leriſch (S. ein Gegen: Apple tree S. der Apfefa
füßler) fig. gerade entges baum.
gengeſett.
Application S. der Fleiß,
Anvil S. Ambos.
Aufmerkſamkeit.
Anxiety S. Angſt. to Apply V. 4. die Geis
Anxious Udj. unrubis, ftesfråfte auf etwas richs
angflich, beforgt. ten, he applied to learn-
Anxiously Udv. auf eine ing, er legte fiit) aufs
anaflide Art.
Studieren, 2) fich mit
Any Adj. jeder, 2) irgend ſeinem Anliegen an jes
ein, any where, irgendmand wenden.
WO, 3) vor den som to Appoint V. u. beſtinis
parativ beißt es : etwas, men, the day was aga
448
pointed, der tag war Schürze, Søurzfell.
angefert , 2) anſtellen. Aur Adj. tichtig, bequem,
People are appointed, 2) geneigt zu etwas.
Leute ſind beſtellt, ans One is often apt to
geſtellt.
think, man rollte oft
to Apprehend V. 4. fürch, Senfeit.
ten, beſorgen.
Arbiter S. der Schiede-
Apprehenfion S. Beforge ridter. Dverherr.
niß , Furcht.
Arbour S. eine Sommer-
Apprehenſive adj. furdt: Taube.
rom, beſorgt.
Arcadia. S. eine Landſchaft
Apprentice S. der Lehr: im Pelopeneß, der Siß
ling, to bind himſelf des Hirtenlebens ben den
apprentice, fich in die alten Dichtern. fig. ein
Lehre begeben.
erträumtes Land der Un,
to Apprize V. 4. Nachricht rould und Jugend.
geben, benadridtigen. Architecture S. die Bau-
to Approach V. N. fid nå: funſt.
ber.
Ardent adj. feurig, illa
Approach S. die Unåbe: brünſtig.
| rung.
Ardently Adv. inbriinftig.
Approbation' S. der Beps Ardour S.Hiße. Inbrunft.
faut.
to Argue V. U. (chließen,
to Appropriate V. 4. fic Soluſie machen.
fueignen, zu ſich neonien. to Ariſe V. N. auffteben.
to Approve V. 4. (ges The ſun aroſe die Sons
wilynlich mit of) billis ne ging auf. 2) entiteben
gen. I approve of it ico There aroſe a buſtle es
billige das. .
entſtand ein Geräuſch.
April S. der April. Arm S. der Arm, Theil
Apron (fp. ehpörn) S. die des menſchlidenstdrpers.
449
2) der Arm eines Fluſs artificial wants erfünftels
res, the arm of the cur- te Bedürfniſſe.
rent.
Arrift S. ein fünſtler,
to Arm V. 4. bewaffnen. Handwerker. . .
Armour S. die Rüſtung, Aš (Conjunction) 218
Harniſa.
(Vergleichungen zu imao
Arms S. Pl. die Waffen. Der wenn es doppelt
Army S. eine Arniee. ſteht, wird das erſte durd
Aroſe Imp 3. Ariſe. to überreßt, they ran as
Around udv. in Kreiſe faſt as they could , fie
berum. 2) Pråp. um, liefen ro ronell als ſie
around him, um ibn. konnten. 2) wie; een
to Arrànge V. 4. anords as You pleaſe! gang wie
nen.
es' euch gefått í as it
Arrangement S. Anord. were gleidfam, 3) as
nung, Einrichtung. for, as to was betrifft,
Arrival S. die Anfunft. in unſebung, 4) dar als,
to Arrive V. N. ankonis juſt as he ſpoke da er
men.
eben redeté , 5) ſo'-
Arrow S. der Pfeil. as , ſo daß, 6) es fteht
Arrogant udj. ſtolz, Boch zuweilen uiberflüſſig, a's
mithig, trofig.
yet , nod.
Ait Š. die Kunſt, liberal to Aſcend V. N. und 2.
arts, die freyen Künſte. aufſteigen. Befteigen.
Artery S. die Pulsader, to Aſcertain . 4. gemika
the beating of the arte- maden, beſtimmen, auds
ries , der Pulsſchlag. maden.
Article .. Punct, Bedins to Aſcribe V. U. zuſchreis
gung, Artifel.
ben.
Artificial 401. fiinflid, Aſhamed Adj. berdhmt.
the artificial thunder. Alhes 6. Pr. Die Arche:
(29)
450
.
Aſhore Adv. andao; dem Allidrúty S. emfiger Fleiß,
ufer.
. Unverdroſenheit.
Afide, udv. ſeitwärts. 2) Allíduous udj. unverdroſs
ben Seite.
fen.
Aſk V. 4. 1) fragen, 2) to Alift !V. 4. benſteben.
bitten, fordern, vers Aſiſtance S. der Beyſtand,
langen.
die Hülfe.
Alleèp Adv. folafend. He Aliliant S. der Gebulfe.
is yet alleep , er rolåft to Aluge V. 9. mildern,
nod. He fell aſleep, verſüßen.
folief ein.
to Allume V. 4. annehs
Aſpect S. der Anblid. men.
Aſpen S. die Eſpe, Zit: Aſurance S. Zuverlidt,
terpappel, He trembled Vertrauen, 2) Verlis
like an alpen-leaf, er merung.
sitterte wie Eſpenlaub. to Allire V. 4. verfidern.
Als S. Der Éfel. to Aftóniſh V. 4. in Er,
Aſemblage. S. das Zus faunen reben, erforef,
rammenfommen i vers fen.
ſammeln. Verſammlung. Altóniſhing Part. erſtaun-
to Aſemble ». A. verſam: lich, zum Erftaunen.
meln, V. N. ſich verſam- Aftóniſhment S. das Ers
meln, zuſammen kom ſtaunen, Beſtürzung.
men. '
Afiray udr. irre, to go
Aſembly S. die Gerell afiray, fic verirren.
foaft.
Alunder udv. beſonders,
ANent S. 1) die Bewillis abgeſondert.
gung, 2) der Beyfall, At Prap. zu, an, ini bey,
all gave their aſlent. auf u. f. t. 1) den Ort
10 Aſént V. 4. zugeben, bezeidnend, at Ham.
beppſlidten.
burgh, in Hamburg, åt
to Alive B. 21
0183
451
table, ju Siſche, at Sea Attempt S. der Verſud.
zur See, at the follow. to Attend V. 4. begleiten,
ing page, auf der fol. auch figirlid , attended
genden Seite. 2) Zeit with inconveniencies ,
beſtimmend, at the ſame mit unbequemlichkeit bes
time, gu gleicher Beit at gleitet. Auch attend on
theſe words, bey dieſen in jemandes, oder einer
Worten, at length, ends Sade Gefolge feyn. fig.
lid, at laſt, zuleßt, at nad fic sieben.
firſt, anfänglich. 3) Nid. Attention S. die Aufmerks
tung des Gemüths auf famfeit. .
etwas, to laugh at a Atténtive udj. aufmerkſam.
thing, worüber lachell, Attract V. A. berbenzieben,
to laugh at one, jest an ſich ziehen. 2) loden,
· mand auslachen, 4) at reißen. .
once, auf einmal, at Attractive wdj. anziehend,
leaft, zum wenigſten. . reißend. .
Àte, Imperf. v. to eat. te Augment V. 4. vermebs
Atlántic udj. the Atlantic ren V. N. fid mehren.
Ocean, das Atlantiſde Auguſt S. der Monat Uus
Meer.
guft.
to Attáck V. 4. angreifs Aukward, Awkward Adj.
fen, anfallen. - ungeldigt. .
Attáck S. der Angriff, Authentick Adj. &dt, aus
Anfall.
thentifd, glaubwürdig,
to Attàin V. 4. u. N. (let. an authentick account,
teres mit to) erreiden, ein glaubwürdiger, dd.
ju etwas fommen.
ter Beridt... -
to Attémpt' v. 4. verfue Author S. der Urbeber,
chen, einen Verſud ma. 2) der Verfaſſer, Sørifte
con.
ſteller.
452
Authórity S. Anfehen; 2) to Await V. U. erwarten,
böchte Gewalt, royal'au- auf etwas warten!
thority
to Awake . U. werfen,
Autumn S. der Herbſt. V: R. erwaden, das
to Avàil V 4. u. N. nüßen · Imperf. awoke fångtan
what does it avail me ? zu veralten.
wozu nutzt mir’s? Awake Adj. wach:
Avenger S. der. Richer. Awàre udv. to be aware
Avérſe Adj. to be averle.. gewahrwerden, merfen,
(mit from und to) abe ſich einer Sache verreben.
geneigt repn, etwas un Away Adv. weg, hinwege
gern thun. . . fort.
Awe (ſp. Aah). S. die
Widerwille.
Awhile für á while eine
Avídity S. Gierigkeit. Zeitlang.
to Avoid V. 8. meiden, Awkward P. Aukward.
vermeiden.
Ay ia.
verſion Š. der Abfdjeu i
Ebrfurdt..
IL
i
Báck' S. der Rüdent. worſe, rahlechter, Tolims
Báck Adv. Jurid, we ſhall mer; Superlat. worſt,
foon' be back again, wir am ſchlimmſten.
werden bald wieder zu= to Baffle V. 4. vereiteln,
rid konimen.
his hopes were baffled,
Báckward Adv. rủfwärts, feine-Hoffnungen waren
jurúd, backward and vereiteltz getdufot, -
forward hin und her. aud : he ſaw himſelf
Både. Imperf von to bid. baffled in his hopes.
Bád Ádi. Polect. Compar. Bág S. der Bad Beus
453
tel: Carche a hunters Bárbarous adj. wild, graus
bag, eine Jagdtarde. ram, unmenſchlich.
Bàiliwick. S. Vogten. ,- Bare Adj. naftunbekleis
of Rizzebuttle 048 Amt det. 2) with his bare
Ringebüttel. s hands, init ſeinen bloßen
to Bàķe D. 4. baden. Hånden. : .
Båker S. der Båder. Barefoot Adj. baarfuß. .
Bale S. Ballen, Paden. Bárgain S. ein Handel,
Ball S. Die, Stugel...! Stauf. 2) figürlich : He
Balm (ſp. bahr) S. der gave him many good
Balfam. il
l ellons into the bargain,
Báltick. S. das Baltiſde eſ gab ihm noch mande
...Meer, die Diſeen, auch gute Lehren obendrein.
Baltick Sea.
Bárk S. die Rinder Borfe.
to Bániſh: %. 4. perban: Daken - bark. . ,
nen, verjagen. .. to Bárk, V. Na-bellen the
Báuk, S. Das Ufer, por dog fell a barking der
gúglich der Fläffen 2) eie Hund fing beftig an zu
ne Sandbant.
bellen.
Bánkrupt. So ein Banke Bárley S. Gerſte.
ruttirer to become bank. Bárrel S. ein Sab., eine
rupt bankerutt werden. Tonne.
Bar S. Stange, iron bars, Bárren Adi. unfrugtbar.
2). Baffen, warping. Barrow S. eine Babre, a
bar, Weberbaum. wheel - barrow, Bill
Barbadoes S. Barbados , Schiebefarren. .
eine Weſtindiſche Inſel. to Bárter V. 4. und N.
Barbarian S. ein Wilder, tauroen, eintauſden.
Barbar.,
Bàſe Adi. ſchlecht, niedrig.
Barbarian Adj. Barbarifd. Bàſely adv. auf eine nier
grauſam.
. : derträchtige Weiſe.
454
20
Bäſeneſs. S. Niederträch: "regular) and (mit dem
tigtéit. : . .:; Part.) whilft he was
Báſhfülneſs si dhaam working, wäbrend rei:
baftigteit.
:iner Arbeit, whilft I am
Baſis S. der Grund, die telling, indeß id erzäh:
Grundlage.
le. (mit dem Infinit.)
Báſket §. der Korb. i He is to blame, er iſt
Báſket maker Siein Storbs ju tadeln, verdient Vors
macher.
.. würfe. I am to make ,
Baſket - making S. das ich roul, muß machen,
Storbmachen.
2) werden , he wiſhed
Baſket - work Š. Storbmas <. to be a soldier, Pier
cherärbeit. " wünſchte Soldat zu wer:
Baſs S. Baft. Bals - mat den
in
eine Baftmatte." Beach S: das näche Ufer,
to Båſte P. 4. den Bram der Stränd. .
ten am Spieße mit But: Beacon S. ein Leuchta
ter, oder Fett übertro: thurm”, (Niederſ, eine
pfeln. R. Bafted his meat Bafe) ini.''
with ſea - water übergoß Bead Si fleine Stügel,
es leidt - beſprüfte Sinopfchen, glaſs beads
es
Glägforallen, Glaspers
Bát 6. 6 48 5a6. • fen.
to Bathe P. 4. baden, fick Bèak S. der Schnabel.
baden. With wine bå- Beam S. dei Balfen. 2)
ben mit warinen Weine. Lichtſtrahl; Sunbeams,
Battle S. das Gefechti Sonnenſtrablen.
Treffen.
Bean S. die Boone.
Bảy 8 bit Mbap, Buty Frenchbeans , Bitd6 0 =
ein kleiner Meerbuſen. nen, tírfſche Bohnen.,
to Bè V. N. reyn (rebr ir: to Béar (ſpr. behr) V. A.
455
at
tragen, fig. ertragen, become of, der Ausgang
2) an ſich baben, to vor etwas ſeyn, what
bear rellemblance åbnlich will become of you,
reyn, a relation verwandt was wird aus eud per-,
reyn. 3) V. n. gelin: den, what became of
gen, to bring a thing him? mie ging's ihm ?
to bear, etwas zu Stan 3) als V. 9. geziemen,
de bringen. 4) to bear with becoming reſpect,
away fortreiſen, fort: mit gebührender 40.
führen.
tung.
Beard S. der Bart. Béd S. das Bette, Eager,
Bearded adj. bårtig. 2) ein Beet im Garten,
Bèardleſs adj. unbärtig. fower - beds.
Bèaft Si'ein Thier. to Bedaub , bedawb .
to Beat V. 4. fchlagen. Å berdhmieren.
2) flopfen. R. beat his Béd - Chàmber, S. die
meat, flopfte fein Fleiſch. Solaffammer.
fig. Your heart will beat Bedèw V. A. beneßen, bes
with delight, - for joy, feucten.
das Herz wird euch vor Béd - féllow S. der Schlafs
Freude flopfen.
fammerad, Bettgenoß.
Beautiful adj. ſchon. Béd - tide, on his bed fide
Beauty S. die Soonheit. vor ſeinem Bette', an
Became Imperf. v. to be- reinem Bette.
come.
Bèe S. Sie Biene.
Becauſe Conjunction, weil. Been Part. v. to be.
to Béckon V. 4. u. N. Beer S. das Bier.
winfen.
to Befall B. N. befallen,
to Become V. N. werden, begegnen, wiederfabren,
to become bankrupt, this misfortune would
banferutt werden 2) to not have befallen You,
456
das unglúd båtte eud gen jemand betragen.
midt betroffen... Behaviour S. das Betras
Before Prấp. vor, (dem gen, Verhalten.
Drte oder der Zeit nach). Behéld Part. v. to behold.
Udv. ehe aid, zuvor. Behind Pr&p. hinter. Adv.
Before hánd Adv. gum binten gurúd. He left
Porque. I knew before him behind, er ließ ibn
hand that B, was to co- zurück.
me, id wußte vorläufig, to Bebold reben, betracha
daß B. Fommen route. ten. Imperativ. behold,
to Befriend V. 4. begún- als Interjection des
ftigen. No wink of ſleep braudt, ſieh da!
befriended his eyes, kein Bèing Part. pon to be,
Schlaf fam in reine us wird im Deutfiten um.
gen.
ſohrieben, being over-
to Bég. Þ. ¥. bitten.
heated da er erhitzt war.
Begán Impf. von to begin. Being S. das Daleyn, die
Beggar, S. ein Bettler., Eriftengi 2) ein exifti,
to Begin V. Au. N. ans rended Ding, ein Weren.
fangen.
Belief S. der. Glaube.
Beginner S. ein Anfånger. to Believe V. 4. N. glaua
Beginning S. der Anfang. ben.
Begún Part. p. to begin to Béllow. V. N. blócfen,
Behálf S. das Beſte, der brüllen.
Nußen, in our behalf, Béllows S. P. ein Blafea
zu unſerm Vortheile. In balg, auch wohl a pair
his behalf, reinetbalben. of bellows.
to Behåve V. 4. fich be: Bélly S. der Baud, to
tragen, to behave kindly eat his belly full, fich '
towards one, fid freund. ratt effen.
. fic, gútis, liebreid ge: to Belóng V. N. zugebis.
457
TY
ren, gehören.
Beſèech 9. 4. bitten, free
Beloved (Part.): adj. geben.
liebt, werth, theuer. Befide, beſides Präp. ner
Below. Pråp, ynter, Adv. ben, bey, Adv. auſſers
unten. ..
demy: uberdies. .
to Bend V. A. biegen, to, to Beliege 0. A belagern.
bend a bow , dem Boa to Belpeak V. A. teftellen.
gen ſpannen, 2). nad eia Befpeak a place on board
nem gewiſſen Punft rich: a ſhip.
ten. He bent his way Béladi. Superl.pon good
to his habitation, er der, die, das beſte, 2)
rolur den Weg nad reiz als Subit the beſt, his
ner Wohnung ein. His beft ſein Möglidtes He
mind was bent upon made the belt of his
it. Teine Gedanken wae way home, er maste,
..ren darauf gerichtet. daß er fo bald als moga
Beneath Prdp. unter, Adv. lid zu Hauſe fam. 3)
unten.
Adv. am beſten. We had
Bénefactor S. der Wool belt, wir tbåten am be:
tbåter.
ften.
Benefit S.. die Woolthat. to Beltow 3. ¥..(miton,
Benevolence S die Wohlo upon) geben, ertheilen.
tbåtigfeit.
to Betàke, als Reciproa
Benevolent adj. Wohlo cum, he betook himſelf
thätig.
to reſt, er begab fid zur
Bént' Part. 3. to bend, his Rube.
.
knees were bent in gra- to Bethink V. A, als Rea
titude, feine Si'nie beug, ciprocum , ficb befinnen.
- ten fid dankbari. . he bethought himſelf of
Benimbed uder benum.' an other expedient, et
nied erſtarret, fteif. erinnerte fic cines ans
.
458
auf:
dern Mittels.
bern, beberen.
Bethoùght, Imp. V. to be- Beyond Pråp. jenreits.
think.
to Bid V. A. bitten 2) bes
Betime, betimes, Adv.ben: feblen; 3) to bid one
zeiten 2) früh he roſe farewell, Adieu, jeman-
betimes, er ftand frůb den Lebewohl ragen, Abs
ſchied von ibm nelmen.
Beioken, Part. von be- Big udj. groß, dick.
take.
Bigger Comparat v. big.
Betóok gmp. v. to betake. the bigger. S. die Groſs
to Betrảy V.: A. verras rern (unter den jungen
then. 2) ungetreu, treu: Leuten.)
los an jemand werden. Bigneſs S. Große, Dide.
to Beiriſt V. 4. ariver: Bill S. der Sonabel.
trauen.
Billow S. eine Wuge.
Bétrer compar.'non Good, to Bind V. 4. binden, gus
Adj. beſſer. Adv. veffer. faminenbinden, 2) fig.
the ſooner the better, je verbinden, co bind him-
eber je lieber, to get the ſelf an apprentice, in die
better of etc. beſiegen, Lehre geben.
libertreffen.
Binding S. das Binden.
Between Pråp. zwiſchen. Birchen Adj. birchen-bark
to Beváre V. N. ſich bú: Birfenrinde:
ten, beware of that, Bírd 5. der Vogel.
búte dich davor, laß das Birth S. die Geburt.
bleiben, beware of fal. Birth - day Geburtstag.
ling fick ! werde nicht Biſcuit Subft. Zwiebad ,
frank.
Schiffszwiebad.
to Bewail V. 4. beflagen, Bít S. ein Biſſen, a bit
beweinen.
of bread. 2) ein Stücs
to Bewitch ». A. bezau, den. a bit of iron.
450
Ibili.
Bitter adj. bittér.
fopf.
Bitterneſs S. die Bitter: Blood S. das Blut.
feit. 2) Stummeri, Sors Bloodſhed S. das Bluts
ge, Gram. :
vergiesen.
Black udj. fowarz. Bloody dj. blutig.
Black 5. der Sømarze, Blólom S. die Bluthe.
der Neger. ... Blótch S, eine Schwere ,
to Blåme ». 4. tadeln. Beule..
Blameable #di. firafbar ta- Blow Subt. ein Solas,
delnsterth.'".
Streichi Stoß:
Bláft S. Das Blaſen des to Blow V. N. blaren, we:
: Windes indtog. ben, the wind blew,
Blaze S. eine Feuersbrunft 2) auffliegen, vom
. a ſhip all in a blaze, Scießpulver gebrandt,
lein Schiff in lichten The Chip blew up, das
Flammen.
Soiff flog in die Luft,
to Blèat V. N. bioden. 3) als Activum, fig. to
to Bléls V. 4. regnen, blow out one's brains,
glücklich maden, Bleſse (bruler la cervelle franz.)
me! Behúte! Hilf Him: jemanden eine tugel
mel! Taufend!
durch den Stopf jager.
Bléſing S. der Segen, Blown Part 3. to blow.'
''2) Grud, Woblfart. Blive adj. blau.
Blew Imp. 1), to blow. Blunder Subft, ein grover
Blind 401. blind.
Fehler.
Blífier. . eigentlid eine Board S. ein Bret, Dips
Blare, aber qud dasjes le, 2) der Hand des
nige, was Blaren zieht: Sciffs, der Bord, to
ein Blaſenpflaſter, Spas go on board , zu Schiffe
nifobe Fliege.
geben, to caſt over board.
Blóck-head S. ein Dumma to Boalt V. 4. 4. N. fic
460
ruomen (mit of). Boon S. Geſcent, Gabe.
Boat S. das Both. Boot S. ein Stiefel, half-
Bódily Adj. Förperlic), bow boots Halbſtiefel.
dily exerciſes, Leibesús Booty S. die Beute,
bungen, bodily ſtrenght, Bore Part. . to bear.
förperlide Stårke. to Bore. V. 4. bobren,
Bódy S. der Leib , ftor: Bore S. der Bohrer.
per, a dead body, ein Bórni, borne Part. D. to
todter Leichnam, 2) fig. bear, the Chip was borne
eine Perſon, daber fome by a ſtrong tide, das
body, Jemand, no bo Schiff wurde durch eine
dy, Niemand, 3) ein bobe Fluthaprtgeführt,
Haufe, ein Corps. 2) gebobren.
to Bóil V. N. fochen, the to Bórrow V. 4. borgen.
water began to boil , Bofom Subft. der Buſen,
2) als V. 4. fopen, to Bruſt.
boil his meat. . .: Both Adj. beyde.
Bold Hdj. fúbn, verwe: Bóttle S. eine Flarde, a
gen, unerſoroden. bottle of wine.
Boldly udv. auf eine drei: Bóttom Subſt. Der Boden,
fte, fúbne Art.
Grund, the bottom of
Boldneſs S. Flonheit, the fea, der Meersbo:
Dreiflig feit.
den, He went to the
Bolt S. ein Niegel, with bottom, er ging zu
firong iron bolts. Grunde.
Bónd Subſt. (das Band) Bóugh S. der Af pines
Bande.'
Baums.
Bone S. Bein, Sinuchen, Bought Imp. V. to buy.
whale bone, Sirdybein, Bóunce bauns! (eine Dnos,
filbi - bones, Gråten. matopoie) einen ploklis
Book S, das Buch. den Knau zu bezeidnen.
462
Bóund Part. 4. Imp. V. Brảid - ftitch S. der Stets
to bind, the ſhip was tenſich. .
bound to Amſterdam, Brain S. das Gehirn,
das Sdiff war nad wenn es die Verfiandes.
Umſterdam beilimmt fråfte beaeionet, wird
Bóund C. die Grange. ps gewoonlid im Plural
Bóuntiful Adj. freigebig, gebraucht, It puzzled
milde, gútig..
his brains. Er gerbrad
Boríntifully adv. freiges fid darüber den Kopf,
big, milde, gütig. His brains worked beißt
Boiinty S. Freygebigfeit, eben daffelbe.
Milde.
Brake Subſt. eine Breder
to Bow (fprid ban) V. 4. Flads oder Hanf damit
u. N. biegen.
zu brechen.
Bow (fprid boh) Subit. Brámble S. der Broms
ein Bogen. . beerftraum.
Bower (ſprich bauer) S. Brán S. die flepe.
eine ſaube.
Bránch S. Aſt oder Zweig
Bowl (ſprich bohl) Subft. Pines Baums.
eine Soale... Bránd Subſt. Der Brand,
Bówl (einige ſprechen aus Feuerbrand.
baul, andere bohl r. to Brándiſh D. X. rowins
Walker's Pron. Diction. gen; to brandiſh a lan-
S. eine Kugel..
ce, a ſword.
Bow-fpritS.das Hugſpriet. Brándy S. Branntwein.
Bóx S. eine Büdſe. Brafil S. Braſilien im ſüds
Boy S. ein Inabe, my siden amerika.
boy, mein lieber Junge! Bråve udj. muthis, fübli,
Brace , Subſt. ein Paar, e) redtídaffen (brav).
a brace of piſtols, ein to Bråve V. 4. berauefua
: Pagr Pifolen. . dern: Trop bieten - Bet
462
berzt entgegen geben. Bréaft-work S. die Bruſt.
Bravely adp. tapfer, une webre, Derſoanzung.
errdrocen, brav. Bréath S. der Athem, to
Bråvery S. Muth, Ents draw breath, Uthem bor
Foloſenheit, üneridrofs len, he was out of
fenheit.
breath, 2) ein Lüftden.
Brávo Interj. Bravo ! por: to Breathe V. N. them
treflich.
ſchöpfen; 2) V. A. ein-
Bread S. Brodt, brown athmen, 3) einbauden.
bread, fowarz Brodt. Breathleſs Adj. Athemlos.
Bread - trec S. der Brodt: Bréd Imp. 4. Part. von
| .
to breed.
Breadth S. Die Breite. Breeches S. Pl. die you
to Break (ſpr. brehk) . ren, a pair of breeches,
4. . N. brechen , per: ein paar Beinfleider,
brechen, zerreiſſen, the riding breeches, Reitto-
cable broke. to break ren.
down, abbrecen, nie- to Breėd, V.U. erzieben,
derreiſſen, 2) fig. anbres tenderly bred up, weicha
den, vom Tage, when lid erzogen. .
the day broke, als der Brethren S. Brüder. Cris
Tag anbradi , to break ne ungewöhnlicere Form
looſe, losbreden. De8 Plurals von bro-
Break S. der Brud, 2) ther).
the break of day, der Brick Subſt. ein Badftein,
Anbruch des Tages. Ziegelſtein.
Breakfaſt (pr. breckfaft) Brick - Jayer Subft. ein
S. das Frühſtüc. Maurer. ' .
to Bréakfaft. V. N. Frubs Brick - maker Subſt ein
Ruden.
Siegelſtreidher.
Bréaft S. die Bruſt. Brick- wall S. eine Mauer
463
von Ziegelſteinen. Bronght Imp. 4. Part. y.
Bridge Subſt. die Bride to bring.
Draw - bridge ; Suge Brow S. die Stirn, 2)
brude.
das ganze Geſidt, by.
Bright Adj. bell, eláns the ſweat of his brow,
send.
im Schweiße ſeines An.
Brim - fione S. der Sower gefidis. i
fel.
Brówn 40j. braun, brown
to Bring V. 4. bringen, bread, dwarz Brodi.
to bring about, zu Stana 'to. Bruiſe V. U. zerſchla-
de bringen, (wie to sen. He was bruiſed
bring to bear), to bring 'by falling. Er hatte ſich
up, aufziehen, erziehen. beym Fallen beldadige.
to bring word, melden, Bruiſe Subft. eine leichte
Bericht abftatten.
Wunde.
Brink S. der Rand, the Bruſh S. die Bürfte.
brink of a precipice, Brutal Adj. wild, grau:
Rand eines Abgrundes. ram, viehiſch.
Brſk udj. lebhaft, a briſk Brutálity S. unmenſolide
fire. Ein belles Feuer. Ibat, Grauſamkeit.
Broad Udj. breit, 2) broad Brite S. ein unvernünfs
day, beller lidter Tag. tiges Thier.. .
3) a broad - [word, ein Britiſh adj. wild, piebilith.
Sowerdt.
Britiſhneſs S. wilde, thie.
Broke Imp. D. to break. riſche Grauſamfeit,
Broken Part 1. to break. Wildheit.
Broker S. der müfler. to Bubble B. N. ſprudelil,
Brook S. ein Bad
Bervorſprudeln.
Bróth S. Fleiſchbrübe to Bud V. N Knorperges
Brother S. der Bruder. winnent, quoſdlagen.
Brotherly Adj. brüderlidh. to Build D. 4. bauen.
-464
Builder S. ein Bauherr, Burden.
Baumeiſter.
to Bury V. 4. begraben.
Building S. das Bauen, Bulh Subſt. der Strauch!
2) ein Gebäude.
Buro.
Built Imp. 4. Part. von Buſhel S. ein Sdheffel.
to build
Bulily (ppr. biſzily) adi:
Bulb S. eine Zwiebel. . gerdaftig, emſia, He was
Brindle S. ein Bündel. bufily employ'd. Er war
Birden S. eine Bürde, emſig beſchäftigt.
Laſt.
." Buſineſs, S. 098 Geſchäft,
Burdenſome adj. beſchwer's upon ſome buſineſs, in
lid, Iditis.
• Gerdaften.
Buried. v. to bury. Buſkin S. ein Halbſtiefel.
to Burn V. N. brennen" Buſtle S. Lärm, Gerduſd.
, the fire is burning on, Buly Adj. beſchäftigt, to
das Feuer brennt fort, be buſy with a thing,
2) V. 2. verbrennen, 2) geſoftis.
He had burnt his hand, to Buſy V. A. to buſy
to burn his bricks, feine himſelf, ſich beſoaftigen.
Biegel brennent, to burn Buít doch, aber, 2) (nac
lime, falf brennen. einer Berneinung) Tona
Burning udj. u. Part. glús dern, 3) nur, I have
hend, brennend, the but three guineas, 4)
burning heat.
wenn das nicht wäre,
Burnt, Imp. u. Part. von but for the ſtorm, wenn
to burn,
· der Sturm nidt gewer
to Burſt ”. N. berften, ſen wäre, von andern
2) fig. to burſt into tears, Bedeutungen, f. die
in Ihráneni ausbrecen. Grammatif.
Burl Part. v. to burſt. to Butcher V. A. [olachten.
Birthen, Burthenſome, f. Butter S. die Butter.
465
24
Blítter - milk S. die Bute
termilch.
to Britton V. U. zufndpfen.
to Buy (ſpr. bey) V. 4.
faufen.
By Prip. Gey) , (Ortebes
zeidnuns) to live by
himſelf, allein leben,
2) ben, (Zeit zu beftima
men) by break of day,
bey anbredendem Tages
by this time, jette 3)
Durd, vermittelft., by
degrees, tract) und nach,
by no means , quf feine
Weiſe.
Cabin S. die Enjute. Dermårtigkeit, Brend.
Cable S. 098 Anfertau, to Call (Tp. Kall) . Na
fiabeltau. Es iſt gemeis 1. Act rufen, færeyen,
niglid 600 Fuß oder 120 to call to zurufen, 2)
Klafter lang, daber os nennen. ..
denn auf den Schiffen Calling S. der Beruf.
als ein Långenmaß des Calm (ſpr. Kam) Adj. ſtill,
braudt wird, um obige ruhig.
Långe zu bezeichnen, Calm S. die Stille, Nube.
They had ſcarce rowed to Calm V. U. ſtillen, bes
four cables lepght from rubigen, beſänftigen.
the ſhip.
Came Imp. v. to Come.
Cacao Subſt. Der Cacao , Camel S. das Stamel.
(Hauptbeſtandtbeil der Camerade aud Comrade
Schocolade.)
S. Stamerad.
Càge S. ein Ståfig. Campeche (ipant. Campe-
Cálendar. S. ein Stalender ichio) 5. das in der
to Cálculate V. 4. Derecho Americaniſchen Land:
fchaft Comperde einbeis
Calámity S. Unglid, Wis miſde Farbebola, Braz
telj.
(30)
466
filienborar P. Log-wood. nopy of heaven, unter
to Can V. N. fönnen, I fregem Himmel.
Cannot but, ich muß. Cán't fatt cannot.
Canál S. ein Canal, breis Cáp S. die Mütze, to poll
ter Graben. . off his cap reine můbe
Canàry-bird, S. der Ca- abnehmen.
narienvogel.
Capable adj. (mit of) får
Canàry - iſlands S. die Ca: big, tauglid.
marilden Inrein. Cåpácious adj. geräumig.
Candle S. ein Lichte Kerze, Capáciļy S. Fåbigfeit,
by candle - light, ben Gerdidlicfeit, Bernds
Lidte.
gen.
Cándour Subſt. Uufrids Cape Š. ein Vorgeburge,
tigfeit.
ein Cap. Cape - verd
Cåne S. Robr. Suggar. iſlands Inſeln des grů
cane, Zuderrobr. nen Vorgebirges.
Cánwibal S. ein Einwohe 10 Caper V. N. búpfen,
mer der Staribilden Ins fpringen.
feln, ein Cannibale, Captain S. der Soiffés
Menidenfrefier.
capitain.
Cánnon S. eine Stanone Cáptive S. ein Gefangener.
(a piece of Cannon). Cáptive Adj. gefangen, the
Cannon-ball S. eine Stas captive Lama.
nonfugel.
Captivity, S. Gefangene
Canoe S. ein Stabn, vor: roaft.
mebmlich ein folder, dèr Caracter, f. Character.
von den Wilden gemacht Caravan, S. eine Carn-
worden iſt.
vane, Gereurdiaft von
Canopy S. the car opy of mehrern Reiſenden.
heaven , der geſtirnte Cárcals S. todte feid,
Himmel, under the ca- nam.
467
Cardamomum, Cfpr. Kár- mann, Carpenters-work,
damumm) S. Sarda, Zimmerarbeit.
inom, eine Gewürzart. Cárpet S. Teppich, fig.
Cåre S. Sorge, Sorgs there was ſomething
falt, to take care, Sor: upon the Carpet, es war
De tragen, ſich bemůbenoetivas auf dem Tapere.
2) Behutſamkeit. Cárriage S. fubrmert 2)
to Care UN rorgen, für die Lavere einer Stanone.
etwas Surge tragen. Cárry V. 4. fibren, leia
Careful adj. ſorgſam, be: ten, 2) fahren, forta
filmmert, ſorgfällig, bee foaffen, 3) tragen, 4)
fiffen (mit of (For), fig. bewerfftelligen, to
careful of his life, ſeje carry his point, feinen
nes Lebens wegen bei Zwecf erreichen, 5) mit
ſorgt, vorſichtig, bebuts off, the conſumption
fam.
carried him off, die
Carefully Adv. auf eine Sowindfucht l'affte ihn
forsfältige, ſorgſame Art, binwes, ſtiírzte ibn ins
2) ängſtlich.
Grab,6) mit on, forts
Careleſs Adj.unbefúmmert fahren, fortreten.
forglos.
Cárt S. eine Starre, a
Cireleſsneſs S. Sorglofige carthorſe , ein Starrena
feit.
gauf.
to Caréſs, V. 4. liebforen. to Cárve S. ſchneiden, zers
Carels S. Liebfofung. roneiden, 2) ronißen,
Cargo S. die Sdiffilas einſchneiden.
bung.
Cafe @ der Fall, In caſe,
Caribee S. eine der Cas falls.
riſchen Inſeln in Wets Caſk S. ein Faß.
indien.
to Cált V. U. werfen,
Carpenter S. ein Zimmers roleudern, to call an.
468
chor, den Unter aus- Caule S. die Urrade, der
werfen, a lanze , eine Grund.
Lanze, fig. to caſt a look, to Cauſe V. 4. verurſa-
ein Blick wohin thun, den, bewirken.
werfen, 2) to-caftdown Caution S. Vorſidt, Hes
his eyes , die Augen nies butſamfeit.
derſlagen, 3) to cali 10 Caution V. . warnen.
forth fire, Feuer aus: Cautious vorſichtig, beo
werfen, Feuer ſpegell, butſam, kvadrami.
4) to caſt up, auswers to Ceaſe P. N. aufhören
fen.
(gevobnl. mit fronı) the
Cáfile S. ein Schloß.. wind ceaſes, der Wind
Cát 6. eine ®a .
legt ſich
to Catch V. 2. fangen, to Celebrate V. 4. fevers.
2) (gleichſam) fig. catch lid begeben, fenerii.
fire, Feuer fangen, catch Celérity S. Gilowindin-
cold, lid erfülten.: feit.
Catchęèk S. ein Cazife, Céllar S. der Steller.
Fúrſt der Mirifaner. to Cenſure V. 4. tadelli.
Cátbolick, S. a Roman Céntinel S. die Søilds
Catholick, ein Römiſit. mage.
Catboliſder.
Century S. ein Jabrbuns
Cáttle S. jabmes Vieb, dert.
Heerden.
Céremony S. Ceremonie,
Càve S. eine Höhleunter without any Ceremony,
der Erde, 2) der steller. ohne Umſtände.
Cavern S. eine Hible. Certain 40j. gewiß, I know
Caught Impf. 11. Part. . it for certain, id) weiß es
'to Catch,
gewiß, 3) auf eine una
Cavity S. die Höllung, beſtimmte Art gebraucht,
Höble.
wie das deutſdese wiß ;
469
a certain Kind of clay, chance to fall. .
eine gewiſſe Thonart. to Change V. A. verán.
Certainly Udv. gewil. dern, umwedrein, um.
Cértainty S. die Gewiß- 'tauſchen, verwandeln,
beit. . ;. to change a mouſe into
to Chảce (Chaſe) V. 4. ..a bird, 2) V. N. ſid
jagen, treiben, to chaſe åndern.
away.
Chànge S. eine Uendes
Clace S. die Jagd. rung, Abwechslung, der
to Chàfe V. A. durd Reis Wedſel.
ben erwärmen. . Channel S. Meerenge,
Chàin S. die Stette, 2) und namentlid die Meer's
eine Reibe mit einander enge zwiſden England
verbundener Dinge, a und Frankreid, der Ca-
chain of rocks, ein Riff. nal.
Chàir S. ein Stuhl. Chapter S. das Capitel.
to Challenge V. 4. ber's Cláracter S. their Com-
· ausfordern zum Frampfe. rades gave them the beſt
Chàmber S. Stammer, Character. Jöre Siames
Bed - Chamber, Solafe. raden machten die beſte
zimmer, Valet de Cham- :Soilderung von ihrer
bre, Stammerdiener.. Ebrlich feit, Man (dil-
Chámpion S. ein Stams derte fie als rebr redt-
pfer.
i fety afferie Leute.
Chánce S. das Glid, der to Chárge V. A. laden, be:
Zufall, by Chance, von laden, ein Gewebr 1a-
ungefábr.
den, auftragen als eint
to Chánce P. N. fich von Gerdift.
ungefåbr zutragen, He Chárge S. eine Laft, Burs
chanced to have etc. Er der 2) ein Amt, Würde,
batte zufällig sc. I may 3) Sorgfalt, Auflicht.
470
Chargeable. Adj. zur Laſte : good cheer , gut fpeis
berowerlidi.
fen.
fen.
. o
Charles S. Carl. ; to Cheer u. . aufmuns
Chárm S. der Reise Liebs tern, to cheer his mind,
reiz.
ſich aufbeitern. 2) D.N.
to Chárm P.U. entzúcfen, fróðlich werden, Cheer
bezaubern, with a thing, up! Sen gutes Muths,
wovon, worüber -
Charming udj. allerliebſt, Cheerful Adj. munter, fröh-
reigend.
lic, beiter.
Cháſm (ſpr. Kalm) S. die Cheerfully Adv. fröhlich,
Lúce.
luſtig, beiter.
to Chátter V. N. plau: Cheerfulneſs S. Munters
dern.
feit, Frohſinn.
Cháttering S.Das Geplap: Chèerly udv. beiter, mun,
per, Qeritwår..
ter.
Chéarful, f. Cheerful, u. Cheeſe S. der Stile.
P. m.
: - to Chériſh. V. A. errårs
to Chèat V. A. betrügen. ' men.
Chèat S. die Betrügeren, Chélt S. ein staften, eis
der Betrug, 2) ein Bes ne Stifte. .
trüger.
Chief udj. 098 vorzüglicha
to Check. ».4. bemmen, fe, pornebmſte; his chief
aufbalten, gurúdhalten. buſineſs was, ſein Haupts
to Check his indignation geldpåft war, the chief
reinen Unwillen unters contents, der Hauptin:
druiden.
Walt. -
Cheek Subſt. Die Wange, Chief S. der Vornemiſte,
Bade.
Dverfte Befeb18baber.
Clèer, Speiſen, Ellen u. Chiefly Adv. vornehmlidir
Třinfen, S. to make befonders.
.471
Child (ſpr. tſcheild) S. Chòſen Part. von demſels
ein Kind.
ben Verbo. .
Childhood S.Diesindheit. Chriſtian S. ein Ebrift,
Childiſh 4dj. Stindiſch. 20j. criſtlid. ini
Children plur. v. Child. Chriſtopher S. Chriftoph.
Chímney C. der Schors Church S. Die Stirde.
ſtein, Rauchfang. Church-yard S. der Stirchs
Chimérical (fpr. Kimerri. bof.
kül) udj. in einer wiſs Chiirn f. ein Butterfaß.
den Einbildungsfraft ges to Chirn V. A. buttern,
grúndet, dimarild. Butter maden.
Chín 8. Đa ở winn. Chile f. Chooſe.
Cmſel S. Der Meiffel. Cínder S. eine Koble.
Chocolate S. die Sitoco: Cinnamon S. der Zimmt,
lade.
Canebi.
Choice S. die Wabl, Yuss Cíccle Sulfte ein Zirkel,
wahl.
. Streis.
Choice Adj. auderleſen, Círcuit S. der Umfreis.
ausgefudit, the choiceſt Círcular 201. Streisfdrmig,
bleſings der beſte Ses rund.
gen. ·
Circúmference S. der Uma
to Chooſe, (ſp. tſchuhs) fang, Bezirk.. .
Chule ». 9. wählen, Circumſpection S. Por:
wollen, wünſøen, He. fic rigfeit, Bebutrams
choſe rather to play, feit.
than work. Er moste Círcumfiance S. der um.
lieber ſpielen, als arbeis ftand, 2) Plur. Zuſtand
ten, If you chuſe it, drs Verindgens, His
wenn es euch ſo gefällt, circumliances were al-
beliebt. .
tered, Seine Virmos
Choſe Imp. p. to chooſe. gensumſtånde batten ſide
472
abgebéſfert..
Claw S. die Straue.
Circumſtantial 4dj. 4111. Clay S. die Thonerde i
iftåndlich, circumfiantial Lebmerde.
account, umſtändlicher Clean Adj. rein, ſauber,
Bericht.
. clean linen, weiße, reine
Cíſars Pl. die dieere. Wiroe. ,
Citizen S. Birger, fela to Clean V. A. reinigen.
low.citizen, Mitbirger. Cièaner S. a flax- cleaner,
City S. die Stadt
einer der Flachs rein
Cívil Adj. bürgerlid , 2) macht.
gebildet, geſittet. Clear udj. bell, flar, rein,
to Civilize V. A. gefitiet 2) beiter, munter, 3)
machen. -
frey von Gefabr,they got
to Clámber P. N. mit Mů: clear of the ſandbank,
be erfletternt, erflimmen. Sie machten fid von der
to: Cláp V...4. clapping Sandbank los, 4) bell,
their hands, in die Hän vernebmlich, a clear
de flatſchend, 2) he voice.
clapt the match to the to Clear Þ. N. bel wers
touch - hole, Er brachte den, the ſky clear'd up,
die Lunte ans Zündlod. 2) V. 4. erbeitern, 3) rei-
(Er rolug auf).' nigen, frey maden, He
Cláp S. ein Knall, Solag, cleared his cave from the
claps of thunder, Dons rubbiſh.
nerroldge. . .' Clearly Adv. deutlich, aus
to Cláſp V. A. claſped genſiheinlich.
hands, gefaltene Hände. to Cleave V. 4. ſpalten,
to Clátter V. A. raſeln. to cleave wood.
Cláttering S. clattering of Clérgy-man S. ein Griſts
the arms , Waffenges liter.
flirr.
Clerk (ip. klark) S. rin
1
T
a
473
Handelsdiener, Comps ander, tabe ben, cloſe
toirdiener:
by America, a cloſe
Cléver adj. Oh clever ! fighting ein Handges
Tihon getroffen!
menge, 4) geheim, vers
Cliff S. die Flippe, Reis borgen, to keep cloſe.
Ter Fels.
Cloſely Adv.:eng, genau,
the Clíft S. die flippe cloſely united , genau
(mie das vorberg.) verbunden.
Climate S. das Clima, Cloth S. ein Zeug, Tud,
der Srd. Himmelsſtrich. 2) Kleidung, (doce mehr
to Climb v. A. N. erflet: im plur. clothes , a ſuit.
tern , qufklettern. of clothes, ein ganzes
to Cling V. N. an etwas Keleid, (Rodi Weſte
bangen, where they u. Horen) to put on his
cling to the rocks , wo clothes, fich anfleiden i
fie, (die Auſtern) an to pull off his clothes,
den Felſen bangen, feft: fich ausfleiden.
fißen...
to Clothe V. . fleiden.
Cloath f. Cloth. . , Cloud S. die Wolfe.
Clóck S. Uhr, at two a Cloudy adj. bemórkt, wol
(o') clock um zwer ubr. fig, the Sky becomes
Clód S. Der filos, Erd: cloudy, der Himmel beo
roolle.
wolft fic). .
to Cloſe V. A. ſchließen, Clove S. Gewürz- Nelfe.
guroließen.
Chib S. die Keule, Sinúta
Cloſe S. der Søluß, tel.
Cloſe of day.
Cluing Part. 4. Imp. p.
Cloſe A101. verſchlofen, eins to cling.
geldloffen; 2) feft, didt, Clulier . S. ein Traubens
to draw cloſe, feſt zu burdel.
gieben, 3) nabe anein: "Coach S. die Kutſoe.
474
Coal S. eine Koble. in coin in Münze.
Coarſe udj. grob (von Zeus Cold Adj. falt.
gen) 2) fig. a coarſe voi. Cold S. die Kalte, to die
ce, eine raube, grobe of cold vor stålte fters
Stimme, 3)roh, plump. ben, 2) die Erfåltung,
Coaſt S. die Küſte. . der Schnupfe, R. will
Coat S. der Rod, coat get a cold, R. wird ſich
pooket die Rodtaſche. erfåſten.
Cóck S. der Hahn. Lo Collect V. 4. fammeln,
Cóckle - ſhells S. Ruſoels guſaminentragen.
rohalen.
Collection S. eine Samm,
Cócoa (ſpr.Coco) (Cocao), fung.
nut S. die Cofos - Nuß. Cólony S. eine Colonie.
Cócoa - tree S. Cufos Colour S. die Farbe.
Baum, (eine Art Pal: to Chlour 9: 4. fårben.
men.)
colour'd, gefärbt, bunt,
Cód S. Stocffifco, (getrock; colour'd fiones.
neter Stabeljau) Codfil- Comb Si der Stamm.
her. S. Stodfiſcófånger, Combatant Si der Streis
Codfiſhery Stodfird. ter.
fang.
Combuſtible adj. brenns
Cód S. die Hülſe, Schote. bar. .
Coffee S. der Staffee. to Cóne V. N. fommen,
Cogitation S. Gedanfe, to come off, davon fums
Betrachtung abſorbed in men, the time to come,
deſponding cogitations die Zukunft, all what
perſunken in boffnung6s is to come, alles was
loſen Betrachtungen geldeben wird, when
to Coin D. 4. mungen, you come to be better
Geld rolagen, prågen. inſtructed.
Coin 6. gepragtes Geld, Comely. Adj. angenebm,
475
gefällig, a comely hand. 2) beſtreichen, two can-
ſome young man ein nous commanded the
netter, búbroer junger right Aank, zwin Canos
Menſch.
nen beſiriden die rechte
to Comfort V. 4. ſtårfen, Flanke. (Seite)
2) tröſten, 3) erfreuen, Command S. der Befehl.
to be comforted with Commander 'S. der Bea
ſleep.
feblebaber.
Cómfort S. Beyſtand, to commence V. . an:
Hilfe, 2) Troſt, Beru: faugen.
bigung, 3) Vergnügen, to Commend S. empfehs
Glúd, the comfort of len.
his fellow creatures af- Commendable adj.lóbliche
fifiance to take comfort, rühmlich.
Muth faſſent.
Comnientary S. Yusle:
Cómfortable adj. troillich, gungi erklärende 26-
2) angenehm, erfreulich, bandlungi Commentar,
the comfortable voice Commerce S. die Hande
of a friend, bebaglid, lung, der Handel.
erguidend, a comfor- Commiſſion S. der Uufs
table Supper, a comfor- traße 2) Begelung, the
table fiate of life. ein commiſſion of a fault.
· gemidliches, forgens to Commít V. 4. Anvers
frenes Leben. S t rauen, übergeben, 2)
Cómfortably Adv. auf eine commit a fault, blun-
angenehine Weiſe der, crime, einen Foha
Cómfor leſs Adj. troftlos fer, ein Veröreden beo
Cúmical Udi. poſfierlich. gebyn.
to Commánd V. A. befeb Conimódious Adj. Bequem.
len, to command a ſhip, Commodiouſly udp.be
ein Sdiff commandiren, quent.
476
Commódity S. Bequems Umfang, 2) der Coni.
lidfeit.
paß. (die Magnetnadel
Cómmon Uldj. gemein in ihrem Gehäuse.)
Common ſenſe der na- Compálfiou S. das Mits
türlice, geſunde men leiden, Erbarmung, to
rdhenverſtand, 2) ges have compaſſion on one,
, meinſdaftlicó , 3) auges mit einem sc. .
mein.
Compálfionate adj. mitleis
Cómmonly Adv. Gemeii dig.
niglich, gewöhnlic. to Compél V. 4. nothi.
Comniotion S. 1) Bewport gen, gwingen,
guna, Unruhe, 2) Ges Competent adj. geborig.
müthsbewegung, Riihs a competent fluency in
runs.
reading eine hinlänglia
to Comminicate V. 4. de Geläufigkeit im leſen.
mittheilen.
to Complain V. N. über
Companion S. Geſelfdaf: etwas flagen, lid bes
ter, Geſpiele.
Elagen aber etwas.
Cómpany S. die Geſello Complaining G. das Fla-
fchaft.
· gen, 2) die Beſchwerde.
to Compare V.4. verglei. Complaint, S. (f. das vos
den.
rige.)
Compariſon S. die Vers Complèat (1. das fols
Bleidung.
gende.)
to Cómpaſs V. 4. umge: Complèle adj. volftandis,
beni, umfaſſen, pimidliefs a complete idea. ein voll:
ren, 2) erhalten, bes ſtåndiser Begriff.
fommen, that we can to Complete V. 4. volls
all compaſs, dazu fons . ftandig machen, ergån.
nen wir alle gelangen. Gen, 2) zu Stande brine
Cómpaſs S. der Streis, gen, vollenden.
477
Completely adv. gånglid, rednung
polfommen.
to Compite v. N. rechnen,
Complexion S. Geſichts berednen.
farbe..
Cómrade f. Camerade,
Cúmpliment . Complis Concávity S. dië Aust
ment, to ſend his com- bohlung.
pliments. grüßen laſſen. to Conceal V. A. verbers
to Comply V. 4. (mit gen, verleden.
with) ſich ridten, geu Conceit 5. die Vorftels
fällig ſeyn, ſich gefallen lung, Begriff. 2) Ver-
Taffen.
ftand, Porſledungsfraft.
to Compoſe, V. 4. aufs to Conceive D. 4. begress
regen, verfertigen 2) fen, einſehen, verfte:
zubereiten, in den ben, to conceive an
Stand rese11, to compore idea , einen Gedanfen
himſelf to ſleep, fich zum falfen.
Sølafen anioiden. tÒ Concentrate V. U. (in
Compoſed Part. jurame einen engen Raum brins
mengeſett, to be com- gen) juſammenfaſſen,
poſed, befteben.
zuſaminensieben.
Compoſure S. with the to Concern . ¥. anges
greateli compoſure, mit ben, betreffen, 2) ftunis
der größten Seelenruhe mer, unrube erwedel,
to Comprehend V. N. in to be concerned, bps
fid forlen, halten, 2) fümmert, in Verlegens
begreifen, verstehen. beit reyn. (mit about,
Compreliénſible adj. bes über etwas)
greiflic).
. Concerning Part. betrefa
Compriſed Part. Begrif. fend.
Concérted Part. a well
Computation S. die Bes concerted plan; ein wool
fen.
478
úverlegter pran.
Wohlthat erzeigen.
to Conclide V. A. Schlieſ: to Confer dignities upon
ren, 2) beroließen, 3) one, einem Ehrenſtellen
beendigen.
. úbertragen.
Concluſion S. die End: to Conféls V. 4. geſtepeni,
roeidung, 2) der Schluß, befentient.
at the concluſion of my to Confide V. N. (init in.)
narration, am Schluſſe rein Vertrauen reken,
meiner Erzůblung. to conſide in God, auf
Cóncord S. Eintradt, Eis Gott.
nigkeit.
Cónfidence S. das Ver:
Conciírrence S. Mitwur: traun, Zutrauen, (in,
fung Beyſtand, Hülfe. auf)
to Condému V. 4. verur: to Confine V. N. an et:
theilen, verdamme. was gránzen, 2) V. U.
Condítion S. die Berdaft einſitließen, 3) einſper:
fenheit eines Dinges , ren.
Zuſtand, kage, a woe- Confinement S. Gefan:
ful condition, eine traus genſchaft.
rige Lage, 2) die Be: to Confirm Þ. ¥. beſtia
dingung, upon condi- tigen, 2) beſtårfer.
tion, unter der Bedins Conflict S. der Stampf.
guls.
to Confórm. V. N. lidt
Condicive udj. Debutaich, nach etwas ridten, bes
beforderlich, jutriglid. quemen.
to Conduíct V. A. leiten, Confounded, a confounded
führen.
thing, eine verzweifelte
Cónduct S. das Betragen, Sache ; 2) bestürzt.
Verhalten.
to Confuſe V. 4. 111 Ulla
to Confér V. 4. ertheilen, ordnung bringen, ver:
(mit on) a benefit eine wirren, a confuſed noiſe
479
ein verwirrtes Gerdura. (mit of) to be conſcious
Confuſion S. Bermirs of wicked actions.
runs, 2) Bercbåmung, Conſciousneſs S. das Bes
Beſtürzung. . . wußtſeyn.
Congratulate V. 4. Glů d to Conſént. V. X. einmila
múnſden.
ligen (mit to
Conſent S. Einwilligung
Cónic, Cónick adj. Die
Zuſtimmung.
Geſtalt pines Stegels bas
Conſequence S. die Folge,
ben, a conick mountain
2) Widtisfeit, a mate
- ein ſpio zulaufender
ter of conſequence.
Berg.
Conjécture S. die Vers
Conſequently Adv. folge
muthung, Mutmaßung.
i.
to Conjécure V. 4. mutta
Conſervation S. die Ere
maßen, vermutben.
baltung.
to Conſérve V. 4. Dewab:
Conjurer S. ein Befdwóc
ren, erhalten.
rer, Zauberer.
Conſérver S. der Erhalter.
to Connect ». U. verknús
Conſider V. A. betrad tin,
pfen, verbinden, con-
anſehen, tbey were con-
ne ted jurammenbån fidered as wile men
gend.
2) uberlegen, Opdenfen.
to Conquer u. beſies
Conſiderable Udj. anſebnis
gen, to conquer ourſel.
lid, berrådhtlid.
ves,
Conſiderably 300.bes:
Conſcience S. das Gemifs tristlicher Weiſe.
ren. Liberty of Con- o
Lone Confideration S. die Eco
ſcience Denffreiheit.
. tågung, Betrachtung.
Conſcientiously Udv. mit to Confílt D. N. beſtellen
Butem Gewiſſen.
aus etwas zuſammenges
Cónſcious adj. bewußt, regt ſeyn. (mit of)
It
480
Conſiſtent Adj. was beſte, art.
ben kann, mit etwas to Confiílt . X. beraths
übereinſtimmend. ſhlagen, 2) um Rathy
Conſolation S. der Croft. fragen, to conſult Phy-
to Conſole V. 4. tröſten. ' ficians.
Conſpiracy. S. Ver: Conſultation S. Berath.
· ſchwörung Meuteren. ſchlagung, to enter into
Cónfiancy S. die Stand: conſultation zu Rathe
baftisfeit.
geben, ſich über etwas
Cóntiant Udj. beſtåndig, beratbſchlagen.
2) ſtandbaft, a conſtant Conſume V. 4. N. vers
reſolution, ein fefter gebren, verbrauden.
Entſoluß, a conſtant Conſumption S. die
rule, eine beſtåndige, Schwindſucht, Ausdeh-
unverbridliche Regel. rung.
Conſtantly Adv. auf eine Contágion S. Seude.
bebarrlide, ftandhafte to Contàin V. 4. enthalo
art, beſtandig, ftets. ten, in ſich faffen, 2)
Confiernàtion S. Beftir: guriicbalten, einforån:
gung.
to Conſtitute V. H. einrich, to Contemplate. B. X. N.
ten, auordern.
betracten, anſchauen-
Conſiitition S. Einriche nachſinnen.
tung, 2) Störperliche Bes Contemplation S. Bea
Idaffenheit, to harden tradtung. Idle Contem-
his conftitution fid ab: plations, nidrige Grus
Hårten, . Geſundheit beleyen.
fårfel..
Contémpt S. die Verad-
to Confirict V. 4. verfers fung. '
tigen, erbauen. Contémptible 40j. vers
Conſtruction S. die Baus ohtlic.
fen.
481
Contént 101. zufriedelt. Cóntrary S. das Gegens
to Content. V. 4. befries theil, on' the Contrary.
digen.
Dagegen.
Content S. Zufriedenheit, Cóntrary, Udv. widerſpre,
to his heart's content, chend, Contrary to their
2) Pl. Contents der In wiſhes, ibren Wünſden
balt, the chief contents zuwider', 2) entgegen 1
der Hauptinhalt.
zuwider, the wind was
Contented Adj. Part. gus contrary. By contrary
friedenl..
winds, durch widrige
Conténtment S. Zufries Winde, a contrary idea,
denbeit.
eine entgegengeſepte
Cónteſt S. der Streit, a Meinung.
hard conteſt, ein rowes Cóntraft. S. Gegenfas.
rer Stampf.
Der Abitch..
Cóntinent S. das fefte to Contribute P. A. N.
Land.
bertragen.
Contínual Adj. unaufhör, Contribution S. Beytrag,
fit.
2) Contribution, Stru.
Contínually adv. beſtån eran annual contri.
dig, unaufhörlich. bution.
Contínuance S. die Forte Contrivance S. die Erfin.
dauer, Dauer.
dung, 2) die Einriche
Continuation S. die Forts tung a very wiſe con-
resung.
trivance.
to Continue V. N. fort: to Contrive V. U. erfins
Dauren, 2) V. 4. forts den, erbenfen, erfinnen,
fabren. .
he contrived a rope.
Contórſion S. das Wina How to contrive that?
den, Strúmmen, Bies wie rou man das ausfin.
gen.
dis machen? 2) eineid,
(31)
482
ten, he contrived his kit- gpugen.
·chen ſo, richtete ſie ſo ein. Convulfion S. Zufung,
Conveniency S. Bequem- Verzudung.
lichkeit. .
. Cook S. Der Stoc, Stöch:
Convenient 4dj. bequem, inn.
· a convenient cellar, 2) to Cook V. 4. focen.
foicflich, convenient Cookery S. das Kochen,
meaſures dienlide Mit: Stochfunſt Art of cook-
tel convenient weather, ery.
zuträgliches Wetter. Cool S. die Stühle, in
Conveniently Adj.bequem, the cool of the evening,
: 2) zu gelegener Zeit in der fühlen Abendluft.
to Converſe V. U. ſich mit to Cool V. 4. fúllen, abs
jemand unterhalten, füblen.
ſpreden. . Cópie f. Copy.
Converſation S. Geſprád, Copiouſly Adv. bdufig,
Unterbaltung.
reidlid, überflüſſig.
Convért V. A. perändern, Copper S. Kupfer.
verwandeln, to convert Cópy S. eine Abſchrift,
a thing into an habit Kopie 2) ein Abdrud,
fico etwas zur Gewohna Eremplar, two thoua
heit maden. 2) Befeh, cand copies of it were
ten. 3) Zu einem gewiſa printed.
fen Gebraude anwens to Cópy V. 4. nadhabmen,
den, wozu verwenden to copy Diogenes dem
to convert to ſome uſe. D. nadeffen.
Convèy . A. fübren, Córal S. Koralle, Korala
binfübren.'
lenſtaude. (ein falf- oder
Conviction S. die Uebere feinartiges Seeproduct)
* geugung.
Córd. S. Sonur, Strid.
to Convince V. 4. ubera Córdial Adj. Heraſtårfend.
483
Córdial S. eine Herzſtårs Heulager.
fung.
to Cóver Þ. ¥. bededen,
Cordilleras S. eine bone zudeden.
Gebirgsfette im ſüdlis Covering S. der Ueberzug.
den Amerifa : die An: to Cóvet 4. nad etwas
des.
ſtreben, geluften. (meis:
Córa S. das Storn, a bare fens von der unerlaubs
ley.corn ein Gerſtenforn, 'ten Begierde gebraude)
2) Collective) Getreis Could Imp. D. to can,
de, Storn.
, he could not but think,
Cúrner S. ein Winfel, er mußte auf den Gedans
his Mufing corner rein fen tommeli.
Denfwinkel.
Council S. Rathsvere.
Córps, Córpſe S. ein tod: ſamomlung
ter Störper, leichnam. Counſel S. ein Rath.
to Correct V. 4. ſtrafen, to Count V. A. záblen,
zichtigen, 2) beffern, to 2) berechnen, he coun-
correct one by puniſh- ted his days.
ments, einen durd Countenance S. die Ges
Strafe beſtern.
fidisbildung, das Ges
to Corrupt ». . u. No: ficht, 2) Mine, der Slide
verderbent.
with a chearful coun-
Corrúpter S. der Verder: tenance, mit beiterm
ber.
Blide. 3) Gerektheit,
Corruption S. das Ver: Rube des Gemüths, put
derben.
out of countenance aus
tº Cóft P. N. foften. der Faffung bringen..
Cóft S. die Koſten. Counter charm S. Gegen.
Cófily Udv. foſtbar. bezauberung. Entzauber
Couch S. das Rubebets rung.
te, Couch of hay, ein to Counter charm entzaus
484
bern, die Zauberer durch Lebensteife ; courſe of
Gegenzauberen aufbe: life.
ben.
Cow (fpr. kau) Sidie Stub.
to Counterfeit Þ. ¥. nad. Coward S. eine Frise
machen, nadahmen. Memme..
Country S. ein Land, 2) Cowardice (diſe - dize) S.
das Land im Gegenſaße Frigbeit, Berzagtbeit.
der Stadt, to live ori Cowardly Adv. Feig, ver:
the country, auf dem Lans sagt
de leben, 3) das Vater- Crack S. ein Strach, das
land, he forgot his Strachen, Itnall, 2) der
country.
Laut des Kradens, (als
Cóuntry-man S. der Land: Onomatopoie) 3) eine
mann, Country- people Riße, Spalte. .
Landleute, 2) Lands- to Crack V. N. fragen.
mann.
Cracking S. Gefrad,
Cóuple S. ein Paar, (nur Kraden.
gwen Dinge einer Art) 'to Crám. V. 4. ftopfen.
2) ein paar, (einige) a they crammed a hard-
couple of times, ein kerchief into his mouth.
paar mal , a couple of Crazy Adj. wabnſinnig.
miles,
Cream S. die Sabne von
Courage S. die Herzbaf- der Milch der Rahm.
tigfeit, der Muth. to Create (ſp. krieht) u.
Couragious 4dj. muthig r o auch die beyden fola
Courſe (ſp. kohrs) S. der genden. V. 4. erſchaffen.
Lauf, 2) die Linie, der Creation S. die Soos
Weg den ein Sdiff res pfung.
gelt, der Cours, 3) die Creator S. der Sdópfer.
Folge, Reiber of courſe Crèature (ſp. krihtjur) S.
folglid, 3) Lebensart, das Geſcópf.
485
Créditor S. ein Gldubi: 2) eine Minzart in Eng,
ger, Schuldherr.
land von 5 Soiling.
Creek S. ein kleiner Meers (1 1/2 Rthlr.)
buren, eine Buďt. to Crown V. . fig. fros
to Creep M. N. friechen. nen, lohnen.
Crépt Imp. u. Part. v. Cruelty So die Graufam.
to creep.
teit.
Crèw S. das Schiffsvolf. to Cruſh V. A. quetſoen,
Cried Imp. 0. to cry. gerquetſden, germalmen,
Crime S. Verbrecen. to be cruſhed to death
Criminal Adj. laſterbaft. by the fly-flap.
Criminal S. ein Verbres to Cry V. N. ſchreyen,
der.
rufen, to cry for help,
Crooked Part. v. to Crook, um Hilfe 'rufen.
frumm gebogen, two Çry S. das Geſorey, der
crooked branches,crook Serey, Aufſchrep.
ed horns.
Cryſtal der Striſtall.
Cróp S. die Herndte. Cultivate V. A. bauen, an:
Cróſs S. ein Streuz. bauen, auch figúrlid,
Cróſs quer, Croſs - beams to cultivate his mind,
Querbalken, Croſs- Cúnning adj. gerdidft,
thread Querfaden. 2) flug, liftig, the old
to Crófs V. 4. to Croſs a parrots were too cin-
water, über ein Waſſer ning, a cunning - man,
fahrell.
ein Wahrſager.
Crowd S. ein Gedringe Crip eine Schale, a teacup,
von Menſden.
eine Ibeetaſſe.
to Crowd P. No fich drån: Curd S. Mildfåſe.
gen.
to Cire P. 4. Beileit, fu:
Crown S. eine Strone, a riren.
crown of large leaves, Curioſity S. die Neugier:
486
.
be , Bigbegietbe: to Cút 3. a. fone ben ,
Cùrious Adj. neugierig, 2) bauen, abhauen, to
wißbegierig.
cut down a maſt einen
Curled. Adj. fraus. . Maſt fappen, to cut trees.
Curled hair frauſes Haar. Diume fållen , 3) ein-
Current S. der Strom, poneiden, einbauen,
· Lauf eines Stroms. 4) fig. durchſchneiden,
Cúrrier S. ein Gårber. the ſhip cut the waves ,
to Cúrſe V. 4. verwiin: 5) to cut one off, ies
rden.
mand wegnehmen, 6)
Curled Part. v. d. vers An eminence to cut
flucht.
through, eine unbóbe
Cuſtom S. die Gewohn's durchzufteden,
beit.
Cuit S. der Schnitt.
Cuſtomary Adj. gewohn: Cútlaſs S. ein kurzer Sås
lid.
bel, Hirſofånger.
Daily Adj. u. Adv. tåglich. Dámp S. Dunft.
Dainty S. Lederbiſſen. Pl. Dámp adj. feucht, dunſtig.
Lederegen.
to Damp. V. 4. dämpfen
Dainty udj. leder, a dainty to damp his joy.
palate, ein verwoonter Dámpneſs S. Feuchtigkeit.
Gaumen.
to Dánce. V. N. tanzen.'
Dairy udj. a dairy maid, Dánce S. der Tanz. .
eine Milch » Magd. Dånger S. die Gefahr.
Dámage S. der Schade,' Dangerous adj. gefährlid.
Berluſt.
Dangerously adv. gefähr:
to Dámage V. 4. berdå lidh,dangerously wounde
digen, the damaged ſhip. ed, tódolid verwundet.
i
487
to Dàre . N. lid erfuh. werfen.
nen, es wagen. I dare Dálh S. ein Schlag, Stoß
ſay! ja, das glaub'id! Streid.
id mögte wohl rageli , Daughter S. die godter.
bebaupten id glaube to Dawn W. N. dåmmern.
dod.
Dawn S. die Dämmerung,
Dárk Adj. dunfel, finſter, the dawn of the day,
2) dunfel von Farbe, die Morgendammerung.
dark-red, dunfel rotb, Day S. der, Tag, to day,
dark - brown.
heute, one day or other,
to Dárken V. N. dunfel, eines Tages, dereinſt.
finſter werden.
Day break S. der Anbrud
Dárkneſs S. die Dunfels des Tages.
beit, Finſterniß. Day - light ©. Đa8 ©0
Dárling adj. zártlich ge: nenlidt.
liebt, the darling Son, Day-time S. die Tages-
das liebe Sibnden, geit, in the day-time,
Mutterpåbnden.
bey Tage.
Dárt S. Wurfſpieß. Déad Adj. todt. Dead
to Dárt V. U. werfen, ei: filence tiefe Stille.
gentlid) und figürlid : Deadly Adj. tödtlic. the
the moon darted her deadly ſweat , der .Tos
beams; fcießen von desſchweiß.
Wurfſpießen, 2) V. N. Deal S. ein Tbeil, with
when the lightning darts a good deal of trouble,
from the clouds, wenn mit nicht geringer Mús
der Bliß aus der Wolfe be, what a deal of trou-
rchießt, fåhrt.
ble? Wie viel Múbe?
to Dálh P. U. dlagen, to Deal V. 4. tbeilen,
ftoßen, 2) gerſchmettern, vertheilen. 2) V. N.
to daſh to pieces. 3) verfahren. God," thou
488
dealeſt juſtly with me, to Declare V. A. erflåren.
du bandelſt geredt mit to Decoy locfen, they de-
mir.
coyed the ſailors in the
Dèaling S. die Handlung, woods.
das Verfahren.
to Decree V. 4. u. N.
Dear Adi. geliebt, werth, befihließen.
O dear! 0 himmel ! 2) Decree S. der Befdluß.
Wever im Preiſe. Rathſchluß.
Dearly Adv. my dearly to Dedicate Þ. ¥. wide
beloved Father mein men, weihen.
jártlidit geliebter Vater. Dèed S. die that, Hands
Death S. der Tod.
to Debár V. A. Uusídlief- . to Dèem V. 4. dafür bals
ren. to be debarred from ten, ſchließen.
the communication with Dċep, Adj. tief.
mankind von allem Deer S. das Reh.
menſchlichen Umgange to Defeat V. 4. liberwin.
ausgeſchloſſen reyn. 'den, beſiegen, defeat
Debt S. die Søuld, the ennemy.
Schulden. -
Deféct. S. Mangel. Febs
Deceaſed Part. verſtorben. Terbafte Berdaffenbeit,
Decèit S. der Betrug, die Mångel.
Betrügerey.
Defence S. Vertheidi.
to Deceive, . 4. Betrů: gung, Sicherheit.
gen, bintergeben. to Defend V. A. verthei:
Deceiver S. ein Betrüger. digen, beſchüten.
Decide V. 4. entſcheiden. to Defér V. 4.' N. vers
Deciſion S. die Entſcheis foieben, auffdieben.
| Dung:
Deficient adj. mangelhaft.
Déck Subſt. das Verded to Defray P. X. to defray
eines Schiffe.
one's expences, jeman-
489
des Soſten tragen i für delicious meal.
ihn bezahlen, ibn frey Delight. S. das Vergnes
balten.
gen, die Luft Freude.
Degree. S. eine Stufe, to Delight . 4. Vergnús
by degrees, ſtufenweiſe, gen machen, erfreuen. ,
nach und nach, 2) Grad, ergoten, he delighted
to ſuch a degree , jueis his eyes, 2) V. N. Pers
nem ro boben Grade, ro gnügen finden , he de.
rebr.
lights in doing good.
to Dejéct V. A. nieder: Es iſt ſeine Freude, Gus
Colagen, muthlos mas tes ju thun, to be dea
den.
lighted with a thing
Dejéction S. Mutbloſigs fio daran ergohen.
feit.
Delightful Adj. erfreulid,
to Deign Cip.daehn) oder angenehm.
dehn V. N. wirdigen, Delirious Adj. wahnſinnig.
für würdig balten. to Delíver V. A. befrepen,
Deign thou o Lord my erretten, 2) übergeben,
life to regard ! Nimm einbåndigen, as ſoon as
Gott, meines Lebens they were deliver'd into
gnädig wahr.
good hands, abgeliefert.
to Delay V. 4. auffdies Deliverance S. die Bes
ben, verſchieben. freyung, Errettung.
Delay S. der Auffdub, Delíverer S.der Befreyer,
Vorzug, without de Erretter.
lay, unnorzüglich. to Delude V. A. hinter,
Délicacy Subft. Lederheit, gehen, our poor delus
the ſweet poiſon of de ded brother, unſer ara
licacies , das füße Gift mer betrogener, vers
der Lederepen.
blendeter Mitbruder.
Delicious adj. foflid, a Demánd S. die foderung.
Soou dans
490
gen.
to Demánd . fodern, beflagenswerto.
verlangen, erfodern. to Deplore V. 4. beweis
to Demóliſh V. 21. gerfio- nen, beklagen, brtrauren.
ren, niederreißen. Deportment S. das Ber
Démon S. ein (börer) tragen, Anſtand.
Geift
to Depófite V. U. nieders
to Demonſtrate V. A. beo reßen, niederlegen.
weiſen, demonfiriren. to Depreciate V. 2. gering
Demonſtration, S. Be roaten, veraďten one's
weiß, demonſtrations of merit. reine Verdienſte
joy, Freudenbezeuguna berabwürdigen.
Depredation S. Perhees
Denial Subſt. ſelf - denial, rung.
Selbſtüberwindung. to Deprive V. A. berau-
Dentiſt S. der Zahnarzt. beil (mit of).
to Deny V. &. läugnen, Depth S. die Liefe.
widerſprechen, 2) ver: to Depute V. A. abſenden.
weigern.
Députy S. ein Abgeord.
to Depárt V. N. wegreis neter, Abgeſandter.
ſent abreiſen. 2) vers to Derive V. A. berleiten,
roeiden. his departed ableiten.
ſoul feine abgeſdiedene to Deſcénd , V. A. u. N.
Seele.
binabgeben, binaufteis
Departure S.Die Abreiſe. gen.
to Depend V. A. abban, to Deſcribe V. 4. beſøreis
gen 2) mit upon, on, ben.
fich auf etwas verlaſſen, Deſcription S. eine Be®
depend on it verlaßt euch foreibung.
darauf!
Déſert S. Wüſte, Eindber
Dependant udj. abhängig. a dreary deſert.
Deplorable, adj. flåglid, Deſert S. der verdiente
491
Lohn, Now he gets his to DefpiſV. 2. verad-
deſerts.
ten, verramåbn.
to Deſert V. N. entlau: to Deſpónd V. N. verzwei-
fen, deſertiren.
feln.
to Deſérve verdienen, He Deſpóndency S. Kleins
· deſerves no compaſſion. müthigkeit, Verzweiffes
to Deſign V. 4. Vorba lung:
ben, willens renn 2) mit to Déftinate B. A. beſtim-
for beſtimmen zu etwas. 'men.
Deſign S. das Vorhaben, Deſtination S. die Beſtima
Vorrar, Abridt. . mung.
Defirable adj. wünrbenss to Déftino V. . beftim-
werth, erwünſot. men, widmen.
Delire S. das Verlangen Déftiny S. das Sdiciale
nach etwas , the deſire die Beftimmung.
of travelling, das Ver: Défiitute. Adj. mit of. be-
ſangen, der' Wunſch, zu raubt reyn, Mangel ha.
reiſen.
ben.
to Deſire V. U. verlangen, to Deſtroy, gerforen, nies
wünſden, 1 deſired you derreiffen. 2) vernidtene
to fiay, ich wünſøte, erwürgen, aufreiben.
daß ihr bliebet. . Deftruction, S. die Bera
Deſirous adj. begierig fahrung. Der Untera
deſirous of learning, gang.
lebebegierig.
Deſtructive adj. gerſtób,
to Delift V. N. ablaffen. rend.
Déſolate Adj. wüfte, uns to Detàin P. U. zurüdhals
bewohnt.
ten, aufbalten, Let not
Deſpàir S. Verzweiffelung. me detàin you from hea-
to Deſpàir V. N. (mit of ring etc. laßt eud durd
an etwas) verzweiffeln. mic nicht abhalten 26.
492
to Detér V. . abſchrets to Die W. N. ſterberi, to
fen.
die of age, por ulter
to Detérinine V. N. einen ſterben.
Entroluß faſſen, be: Dier S. ein Fårber.
rchlieffen.
to Differ P. N. verſchies
to Détéft“ v. A. verab: den reyn. ,2) verldies
ſcheuen.
dener Meinung reyn.
Detéftable Adj. verabſcheu: Difference S. der Untira
ungswürdig, abſcheulich. fchied.
to Déviale V. N. von den Different adi. unterſdie-
redyten Wege abweichen. den, verſchieden (mit
Deviation S. die Abweiz from.)
chung. Entfernung. Difficult Adj. rower.
to Devote V. 4. widmen, Difficulty S. Sowierige
weiben.
' feit. 2) Verlegenbeit.
Devotion S. Undadt. Diffidence S. Mißtrauen.
· Ehrerbietigkeit. . to Diffuſe V. 4. verbreis
to Devoir V. 4. vers ten, ergießen.
rohlingen.
to Dig V. 4. y. N. gra-
Devoutly Adv. andådtig. ben. to dig up, out,
Dèw S. der Ehau.
auf, ausgraben, to dig
Dextérity S. Gefchidlich the ground, den Boden
feit. Fertigkeit.
umgraben.
Dexterous adj. geldift. Digging S. das Grabell.
Dialogue S. eine Unterre. Dignity S. die Würde,
| bung , efptải.
he behaved with the
Diamond S. ein Diamant. greateſt dignity, er bes
Dick S. der verfürzte Nas trus ſich am würdigften.
me Richard.
2) im Plur. Ehrenfels
Did Jinp. von to do. Ten, Würden.
to Diè (Dy) V. A. fårben. to Dilàte V. . rich ers
493
weitern. How his heart feuren, 2) leiten, ans
dilated!
ordnen, the all direc-
Diligence S. Fleiß, Em ting father of mankind,
figfeit, Eifer.
3) Briefe adreſtiren,
Din adj. Dåmmernd, by
Letters directed for Bar-
the dim light , beini
badoes.
rohtaden lidte. Direction S. die Riche
to Dimíniſh V. 4. vers tung. 2) Anweiſu111,
minderit, 2) V. N. ab- nordnung , according
nehmen.
to his direction, nach
Diminution S. 'Verrims reiner Vorrorift.
gerung Ninderung. Directly ady, in gerader
Dimly 480. Dunfel. Linie, 2) pofort, for
10 Dine P. N. zu Mits gleid, unmittelbar,
tage fpeiſen, if he you may directly be-
would dine with him, gin, ibr fonnt gleich an-
ob er ſein Gaft reyn fangen.
wollte.
Director S. Fibrer, Lei.
Dinner S. das Mittags: ter, Regierer. -
mabr, to eat his dinner to Diſable D. 4. romåden,
zu Mittage fpeifen. entfråften, unfäbis mas
Dint S. Gewalt, Strafte dhen.
by dint of patience , Diſagreeable Adj. unanges
durd ausdaurende Ges nehm.
duld.
to Diſappear V. N. vers
to Dip V. 4. tauchen, eins (dwinden, unſichtbar
• tauden. :
werden.'
Dipt Part. u. Imp. von to Diſappoint V. 4. Je:
to dip..
mandes Hoffnungen un-
to Direct V. 4. richten, erfüllt laſſen, ihn tiu:
to direct his courſe, føen, to be dis appoin-
494
ted in his expectations, Diſeaſe S. Strankheit, uns
getauſcht werden.
påßlidfeit.
Diſappointment S. die to Diſencrímber . X. von
fehlgeſchlagene Hoffs etwas befreyen, entles
nung. Eduſchung.' digen. -
to Diſapprove V. 4. tas to Diſengàge V. 4. log-
deln, mißbilligen machen, befregen, ents
to Diſcérn V. 4. unters binden.
rdeiden, 2) einreben, Dilh S. eine kleine Schuſs
to diſcern the reaſon, ſel, Schale, Laſte, a
den Grund einfeben. diſh of tea , 2) ein Ges
to Diſcharge V. A. entla: ridt.
den, 2) abfeuern, 103: Diſharmony S. ein Miſs
ſchießen, to diſcharge a flang, a diſmal diſhar-
piece a piftol -
mony, ein jammerlider
Diſcontént S. das Miß. Mißflang.
vergnügen, unzufrieden: Dílmal udject. (chredlid
beit.
traurig.
to Diſcover V. A. ents Dilmày S.Muthloſigkeit,
deden.
Furot, Søreden.
Diſcovery S. die Entdef- Diſmay'd Part. muthlon,
fung.
. fleinmitbig.
to Diſcourage W. 4. muth: Diſorder S. Unordnung ,
loß machen.
Verwirrung. :
Diſcourſe S. Geſpräch , Difpair 7. deſpair.
Unterredung. (ſp. dis- Diſpatch S. Sanelligkeit
kohrs.)
Eile, Eilfertigfeit. (man
to Diſcourſe V. 4. fic un fihreibt auch deſpacch).
terreden.
to Diſpátch V. A. abfers
Diſcreet adj. vorfichtig, tigen, abidicken, 2) in
beſcheiden.
die andere Welt roiden,
495
to diſpatch the lavage, ferepen.
ibm den Reſt geben. to Diſpute V. 4. ſtreitig
to Diſpel V. 4. verjagen, machen, No body will
gerftreuen, to diſpel a diſpute me the right etc.
doubt, einen Zweifel Diſſatisfaction S. Mißver's
löſen, heben.
gnügen.
to Diſperſe V. U. zers Diſlátisfied Part. mißver:
ſtreuen, 2) V. N. fic gnügt.
verliebren, they diſper. Dilloliition S. Auflifung.
ſed in the woods, the Dífiance S. die Entfers
heat diſperſes, die Hiße nung , at a diſtance, von
verfliegt.
weitem, von ferne.
to Diſplay V. 4. auseina Diftant adj. entfernt.
ander reben, darlegen. Difiémper S. Stranfbeit,
Diſpoſal S. Unordnung, unpåßlickeit.
Verfügung.
Diſtinct adj. verſchieden,
to Diſpoſe V. 4. Diſpoſe getrennt, 2) flar, deuts
of me, as you think fit, lich.
Machen Sie’s mit mir, Diftintion 'S. Unterſdied.
nad Ibrem Belieben, Diſtinctly Adverb. flårs
to diſpoſe of his pro- lid, deutlich.
perty, úber rein Eigens to Diſtinguiſh V. 4. un,
- tbum ſchalten.
terſcheiden.
Diſpoſed, well diſpoſed , Diſtinguiſhed V. ausges
gut aufgeräumt.
Beidnet, merkwürdig,
Diſpoſition S. Einrids auſſerordentlich.
tung, Anordnung, the Diſtrácted. Adj. unſinnig.
difpofitions of divine Diſtreſs S. Unglüd, Elend,
providence die Seif, Trúbral, a ſhip is in
fungen.
diſtreſs, ift in Notb, the
Dilpute S. Streit, Bine fignal of diſtreſs, das
496
Notbzeichen.
Diviſion S. Dheilung ,
Diftréſſed Part. a diftreſſed
Eintheilung.
ſhip, ein Nothleidendes
Schiff, ein verunglück:
Dizzy Adj. fchwindelig.
tes S .
to Do V. 4. thun, mga
Difiréſsful adj. unglid deri, He did not know
lid, elend.
what to do with it, er
to Diſturb V. 4. beunrus wußte nidt, was er da-
bigen. fören', 2) kums
mit anfangen ſollte. 2)
mer verurſaden.
V. N. fid befinden, How
Ditch S. ein Graben.
do you do? wie geht's
10 Dive W. N. tauden,
dir? 3) tauglich ſeyn,
untertauden..
It would have done ,
Divers Adj. einige vers
88 båtte geroeben fång
fchiedene, Cein veralte nen, 4) Ueber den Ges
tes Wort.)
brauch des Verbi to do
Diverſe udj. unterſchieden, ale Hülfe wort, rene man
verſchieden.
die Grammatif. Do not
Diverſion 5. Berſtreuung let it be too mourn.
des Gemüths, Zeitvers
ful. - I don't know,
treib, Unterhaltung.
ſo auch ſtatt der Wies
to Divert S. to divert his derholung des vorherges
grief, reinen Stunimer gangnen Verbi Did'nt
gerſtreuen, lid aufbei.
you ſay ſo ? Yes, I did.
tern, to divert hiinſelf 5) to do without a thing,
with a thing, lich wors
etwas entbehren. He
an beluſtigen, womit
did not know what to
unterhalten.
do with himſelf, er
to Divide V. 4. tbeilen. wußte nicht, was er ans
Divine Adj. göttlic, din fangen ſollte.
vine providence. . to doat, dote 9. 4. mit
497
upon , oder on , in ets mernd, ſchlafend.
mas pernarrt repn, et, Double Adj. 4. Adv. dop-
was unvernünftig lies pelt, zwiefad, double
ben. they doated on him teeth , Baczebne.
10 exceſs.
to Dóuble V. A. verdop.
Dog S. der Hund.
peln.
.
Dving Part. v. to do, to Doubt V. N. zweifeln,
2) als E. Plur. Hand- mit of an etwas.
·lungen, all their doings, Doubt S. der Zweifel, I
alles was ſie thun. make no doubt on it
Dóll S. eine Puppe. id zweifle nicht daran.
Dollar S. ein Thaler. No doubt, ohne Zwei.
Doméſtick, Doméliical S. fel. 2) Unentſchloſſen,
båuslich, 2) zabm, Do. beit, Bedenklichkeit,
mefiick animals, dame 3) Beforgniß.
Hausthiere.
Doubtful Adj. zweifelhafti
Dominion S. das Gebiet. ungemiß , in doubtful
Dóng Part. von to do, caſes, in zweifelhaften
to have done with a Fållen, a doubtful voi-
thing, fertig ſeyn mit ce, eine unentdrobne
etwas, donė again ? Stimme.
foon wieder vorbey ? Dough S. (ip. doh), der
Done als Interj. topp! Teig.
Don't zuſammengezogen, Down Präp. u. dv. fin.
aus do not.
au, to fall down, nies
Door, (ſp. dohr) S, die derfallen, to go down
Tbúr, to run out of the hill, lie wrote it
doors, aus dem Hauſe down, er førieb es auf.
laufen, without doors Downwards niederwårts,
auſſer Hauſe, im freyen. binab. i
Dórmant 40j. folums Dózen S. ein Duggend.
(32)
498
to Dray P. 4. sieben, to Dream V. N. träumen.
rihleppen.
Dréanier, S. ein Traus
Dránk Imperf. von to mer.
drink.
Dreary Adj. furchtbar ,
Draught (ſpr. draft) S. foredlid, a dreary de-
ein Salud, he drank ſert.
a cold draught, er that to Dreſs V. 2. fleiden,
einen falten Trunf, 2) ſchmúden, 2) zuberei:
ein Getránf.
ten, zurichten, well
to Draw V. 4. ziehell, to dreſled meat, – to dreſs
draw breath, Atbem ſkins, åure zubereiten,
roopfen. Ausziehen, to gårben.
draw 'a tooth, 2) ſchrifts Drew Imp. von to draw.
lich aufſeßen, the con- to Drink V. 4. 4. N.
ditions he drew up. – trinfen.
3) Verb. N. beranrufs Drink S. das Getränt :
ken, night drew on, 2) das Trinken.
die Nacht fam beran, to Drinkable Adj. trin war.
draw near his end. Drinking S. das Trinis
Dråw-bridge S. eine Zug. fen.
brúce.
to Drive V. 4. treiben,
Drawing S. eine Zeich: forttreiben.
nung.
Driven Part. von drive,
to Dréad V. A. N. vor ets getrieben. 2) as a dri-
was erſchreden - es ven ſnow als friſo se
fürchten, ſcheuen. fallener Sonee.
Dreadful adj. foredlich, Dróp S. ein Tropfen, a
furchtbar.
drop of blood.
Dréadfully Adv. auf eine to Dróp V. N. triefen.
furorbare Art.
2) fallen, herabfallen,
Dream 6. der Traum. the knife dropt from his
son.
499
hand, das Meſſer fiel Dùe udj. gehörig, gebůbs
ihm aus der Hand, 3) rend, in due time, au
B. 4. 10* drop a project, rechter Zeit, in due
ein Vorhaben aufgeben. form.
Drópping ſweat ein ftar: Dug Part. 4. Imp. von
fer Schweiß.
to dig.
Drove S. eine Heerde,
Duly adv. gehörig.
Dumb Adj. ftumm.
pin Trupp
Dún Adj. Caſtanienbaum.
Drove Imp. v. to drive.
Duince S. ein Dummfopf.
to Drown V. 4. ertråna
to Dung V. 4. důngen.
fen, 2) V. N. ertrinken.
Dung-hill S. ein Mifts
Druim S. eine Trommel, baufen. "
the drum was beaten, During (eigentl. Mart. v.
die Trommel wurde ses to dure) Práp. wåfrend
rúhrt, man trommelte. Durft Imp. v. to dare.
Drunk Part. D. to drink. Dúlk S. die Dämmerung.
Dry Adj. troden, dry Dúlt S. der Staub, gold
land , 2) durftig. 3) des duft , Goldrand.
Safts, der Feuchtigkeit Dutiful adj. gehorſam,
beraubt. The Cow be ebrerbierin
came dry. der Stub per: Dùty S. die Plicht, Souls
ging die Mild. digkeit.
to Dry . N. trofnen, to Dwéll V. N. wobnen.
troden werden, 2) V. Dwélling S. der Wobno
2. trodnen, troden ma: ort, die Woonung.
den, to dry up, quse to Dye, ſ. to die.
trodnen.
Dyår, f. dier.
500
Each Pron. ein jeder, each Earth-quake S. das Erde
other einander.
bebent.
Eager Adj. begierig, bibig, Eaſe S. Ruhe, 2) Wohls
eifrin, eager of lear- ftand, '3) leidtigkeit,
ning, 2) heftig, an ea Bequemlidfeit , at his
ger deſire , ein beftiges eaſe, 5) Ungezwungenis
Verlangen..
beit, they ſuckled at
Eagerly adv. begierige their eaſe, fic ſogen nac
beftig, ernftlich.
Herzensluſt.
Ear S. das Obr, 2) eine to Eale.V. 4. erleichtern,
Hebre, Stornábre.
2) befånftigen, berubi-
Early Adj. 4. Adv. früb, gen, to eaſe himſelf. 3)
Comp. Earlier Sup.eare qusruben, quoruben lass
- lieſt.
ren, to eaſe bis limbs.
Earneft 401. ernſt, ernſts Eaſily Ady. reidt, ohne
lich, the earneft reſolu- Mube.
tion.
Eaſt S. Often, Eaft - In-
Earneſt S. der Ernſt. dies, Oſtindien.
Earneſtly udv. ernſtlich, Eaſterly 901. oftlic, ea-
im Ernſte. E
f terly winds.
Earneſtneſs S. Eifer, Enis Eaſtern Adj. øſtlid , ea-
ſigkeit.
... ſtern horizon.
Earth S. die Erde, pot. Eaſy 401. leicht, 2) rus
ter's earth, Lópfer Thon, big, ficher, to make his
2) (der Planet) die mind eaſy, lich berubio
Erde, Erdfugel. - gen, 3) bequem. .
Earthen adj. irden, ear- to Eat V. N. ú. 4. effent.
then ware, pots. Entable Adj. eßbar.
Lárthly adj. irdiſch. Eàtable S. Eatables , Ef.
501
II
maaren, Lebensmittel. Egg S. ein En.
Eåter S. a man-eater, ein Eight (fp.eht) acht, eight
Menſchenfreffer.'
o'clock, acht ubr.
Eating S. das Eſſent.
Eighteen adtzebr.
Ébb S. die Ebbe. Eighteenth der Udtgebnte.
LO- Ébb V. N. ebben! Eighth der Abte.
· when it ebbs, wenn die Eighty aditzia.
Ebbe eintritt. . Eilet - hole (oilet - hole)
Echo S. das Echo, der S. das Sonúriod.
Wiederball
to Echo V. N. wieders
Eitle: Pron. ein jeder.
ballen.
Either (ſp. indher) Conj.
entweder.
to Educate V. 2. erzieben.
Education - Die Ersies' to Eláple. V. N. verfirel
chen.
bung.
E’èn für éven, ſo I'll e'en Eláſtick udi, mit Sonell-
paſs over this part etc.
Fraft verſehen, elaſtiſo.
Elbow S. der Elbogen.
lieber überſchlagen.
Effect S. die Wirkung ,
Eldeſt Sup. V. old, der
die Folge.
to Effect V. 4. bewerfftels Eleméntal woj. in den ers
ligen, bewirken. 'ften Grundſågen beſte-
Eféminate adj. weibird, bend - elementarild.
weidlich.
elemental - knowledge
to Efférninate P. A. meis Anfangsgründe. Por:
bild machen.
fenntniſſe.
Efficácious adj. fråftig, Élevated & Part. an eleva-
wirfſam.
ted ground, eine Ans
Effort S. Anſtrengung, to bole.
uſe all his efforts, alle Eléven rilf.
I träfte aufbieten. Eleventh Adj. der eilfte.
Aelteſte.
502
Éligible adj. vorzüglic.
ſcharte in einem Walle,
Éll S. eine Elle.
oder Mauer.
Elſe Pron. no body elſe,
Eminence S. eine Anhöhe.
Niemand anders.
Emotion S. beftige Ges
Elſe Udv. Conſt.
müthsbewegung.
Elſewhere udv.andersmo. Empire (fp. emmpeir) S.
'em ein Contraction für das Reid.
them.
to Emplóy (imploy) V.
4. gebrauchenanwens
to Embárk V. A. einſchifs
fen, an Bord bringen,
den, 2) to be employed,
berdaftigt reyny the
2) V. N. ſid, einſchiffen,
zu Schiffe gebrn.
Chips employed in the
Embaſſador S. ein Abges
Codfiſhery, mit dem
Stodfiſchfange.
fandter.
to Embelliſh P. A. vers Employment S. ein Ger
rdinern.
robåft, Zeitvertreib, 2)
Amt.
Embelliſhment S. Vers,
"Empty udj. leer.
fchönerung, Schmuc.
Emulation S. Nadheifer
Embers S. Plure glúbena
rung, Wetteifer. .
de ulde.
Enable V. ¥. tứchtig, ges
to Embitter (imbitter) V.
roift maden, in den
21. verbittern.
Stand reten.
to Embrace (imbrace) V. to Enchant V. 4. bezaus
A. umfaſſen, umarmell. bern, the enchanted po-
2) begierig ergreifen tion der Zaubertranf.
annehmen. to embrace a to Enclòſe (incloſe) P.
belief.
4. einſchließen, einha.
Embrace S. die Umar. gen.
mung.
Encloſure S. die Umzdu:
Embrálure S. die Spießs . nung.
2
603
to Encompaſs V. A. eins Vater.
foließen, einbågen. to Endèar V. A. webrt,
to Encounter. V. 4. Ents beliebt maden.
gegen geben. 2) anfal: Endearing Part. endea-
len..
ring carelles, gårtliche,
Encounter. S. Stampf, reisende Liebfoſungen.
Gefecht.
Endeavour S. das Bes
to Encourage V. 4. auf- ſtreben, Bemübung, to
muntern.
do his endeavour, fide
Encouragement S. die anſtrengen.
Aufmunterung.
to Endeavour V. 4. vers
to Encreaſe V. U. vere ſuchen, 2) tracten, fic
mebren, wadren, the bemúben.
water encreaſed. : Endleſs udj. endlos, uns
Encreaſe S. der Zuwachs. endlid.
End S. das Ende, to put to Endow (ſp. endau) V.
an end to a thing, ein 4. begaben , endowed
Ende machen, 2) die 20. with reaſon, mit Vers
fidht, Endzwed 3) Bez nunft begabt.
ſiimmung, to anſwer to Endure V. 4. ausbals
this end, erfüllen, 4) ten, erdulden.
on end, your hair will Enérvated. Adj. Part. ents
ſtand on end, die Hag. nervt entfråftet.
re werden Eud zu Ber: Enemy S. ein Feind.
ge ſteben.
to Enfeèble ». A. entfråfo -
to End . 4. endigen, ten, row.cben.
beendigen, zu Ende brinto Engàge V. 4. verbins
gen, 2) V. N. fich endi: den, verbindlich madeni
gen, 3) aufhören zures 2) bewegen.
den, Here the father Engagement S. Gefecht.
ended , fier fchloß der Engliſh 01. engliſch, an
504
engliſh man, ein Enge ben (mit dem Accuſ.) to
lånder, S. Prur. the enter the Atlantic ocean,
Engliſh, die Engländer. in das Atlantiſde Meer
to Engràve-V. 7. eingra. fahren, 2) V. N. mit
ben, einſchneiden. into. They enter'd iqto
to Enhánce V. A. im Preiſe the open ſea, fie fuhren
erhoben. Den Webrt ers in die offenbabre See,
höhen, ſteigern.
ins Offne Meer.
to Enjóy V. 4. genießen. Entérred. interred und in-
Enjoyment S. der Bes tered. part. vergraben
nuß, dub Vergnügen. eingegraven.
to Enlarge W. 4. vergröfs to Entertain V. 4. unters
rern, erweitern. . balten (mit Geſpråden,
to Enlift (inlift) V. 4. · Geſchäften, oder mit
anwerben, he got him Speiſen.)
ſelf enliſted, ließ ſic ene Entertaining Part. Zeitver:
rolliren.
treibend, beluſtigend,
to Enlighten V. . eps unterhaltend, angenehm.
bellen.
Entertainment S. jede Art
Enough Adv. genug, there der Unterbaltung. (r.
is room enough. Das Verb.)
to Enquire ». A. fic ers Entire, intire adj. gang.
fundigen, after one. Entirely udv. gånglich.
to Enràge V. A. erzúrnen, to Entitle V. 4. berechti:
gornig maden.
gen.
to Enfùe V. N. erfolgen, Entrails S. Plur. das Eino
folgen, a filence enſued. geweide.
to Entangle ». X. vermifs Entrance S. der Eintritt,
feln, the hair were en- 2). der Eingang. '
tangled.
to Entréat V. 4. bitten,
to Enter V. A. bineinges erſucher.'"
505
Entréaty S. die Bitte, error.
das Gefuch.
Eruption S. der Uusbruch.
to Entriift. V. A. anvere to Eſcàpe V. A. entgeben,
trauen (aud intruft). a danger, einer Gefahr
Epidémick Adj. anſtecend entgeben, to eſcape
epidemiſo).
death. dem Tode ent:
Equal. Adj. gleid, gleichs geben i V. N. entwis
förmig, of equal length, roben, die Flucht nebs
von gleicher Långe, 2) men.
billig.
Eſcape S. die Fluot, to
Equally adj. auf gleiche make his eſcape, die
Weiſe, even ro.
Flucht ergreifen.
Equanimity S. Gleich: Eſpécially 2100. vornehm-
muth).
lid, insbeſondere.
Équinox S. die Nadts to Efpy V. 4. entdeden,
gleide, das Hequinocs unvermuthet ervliden -
tium.
2) 4116(påben.
to Equip V. H. Ausrüſten, EMay 5. der Verſuc.
mit dem Nothwendigen Eſénciel adj. weſentlich.
verreben.
to Eſtábliſh V. A. vers
Équipage S. Ausrüſtung/ ordnen, feſtlegen.
Ausgierung the odd Eftábliſement. S. die
equipage die wunderſide Einridtung, Anord-
Ausſtaffirung.
nung.
Équitable Udi, billig, equi- Efieem S tie Achtung.
table laws.
Werthſchågung
10 Erect. V. A. errichten. to Eleèm D. ¥. podacos
Eréct Adv. aufrecht, to ten.
ſtand erect,
Eftimable ydi. Foyidbar. -
Érrour, Error, S. der to Éfiimate V. A. Iohaten,
Irrthum, to be in an würdigen.
506
Éftimate 6. die Würdi, mit recten Dingen zus
gung, Soitung.
geben.
Èvil S. das Uebel.
Etérnal adj. ewig.
Europèari 40j. Europdilo
Eternally adj. ewis i in 2) S. ein Europåer.
Ewigfeit. . Exact adj. genau.
Even Adi, eben, glatt, Exactly udv. auf eine gen
on even ground, auf Daue, vůnctliche Art.
ebrer Erde.
Exáctneſs S. Genauigfeit.
to Even V., 4. ebnen, Examination S. Unterſus
gleich machen.
| chung.
Even, e'en 200. rogar, to Exámine V. 4. unter.
2) even then, even at ſuchen.
that time, grade damals. Example S. ein Beiſpiel.
Evening S. der Abend. to Exceed V. 4. úber.
Evént S. der Ausgang, foreiten.
Erfolg.
· Exceeding Part. excee-
Ever udv. jemals, 2) im ding high ausnehmend
mer. for ever, auf im Bod.
mer, 3) ever lo ſhort, Exceedingly adv. auſſers
nocy ſo furg, ever ſo ordentlich.
little, nur einigermaßen. Excellence S. Vortreflichs
Everláſting Adj. ewig, ims feit."
merwährend.
Excellent adj. Udv. vor:
Every Adj. Pron.) jeder, trefid).
jede, jedes. every one, Excellently udv. vortref,
ein jeder , 2) every lid.
where , allenthalben. to Excépt. º. 4. ausness
Evil, ill Udj. úbel, vore. men.
It muſt be done by evil Excépt (Excepted. Part.)
means, das fann nicht ausgenommen.
507
Exception S. die Uus: bringen, ausfübren.
nabme.
to Exémp. V. 4. befreyen,
Excéls Š. Ueberinaß, to freyſpreden, ausnehmen.
love one to ſuch an Exerciſe S. Uebung, bo:
excels, Jemanden ro dily, exerciſes , fórporlis
übermäßig, ro übertrie- che, Leibesübungen.
ben lieben, 2) Unmäſo to Exerciſe V. 4. úben.
ſinfeit.
to Exert. V. A. volbrin:
Excélfive udj. sibermäßig. gen. 2) anſtrengen. -
Excéllively udv. übermäſs Exértion S. die Anftren.
figi libertriebenz.
gung.
to Exciie V. 4. erregen, Exhalation S. die Ausi
erweden, rege maden. duntung Plur. die
Exclamation S. Xusruf. Dinſte.
to Exclude V. 4. aus. to Exhale V. N. quodůn.
rdlielſe11. - fen, aushauden.
Excluſive ausgenommen, to Exhauſt V. 4. erichia
auffer. excluſive of — pfen.
mit Ausnahme. to Exhort V. 4. ermuns
Exciiifion S. ein Streifs tern, ermahnen.
jug, Streiferey , Er: Exhortation S. die er:
curfion.
munterung, Ermahnung.
to Excuſe V. . entroul to Exílt P. u. vorbanden
digen.
reyn, eriftiren.
Exquiſe S. die Entſchuldi: Exílience S. das Daleyn,
gung.
die Eriſieną.
to Execute 3. 4. 248. to Expéct V. 4. erwarten.
úben, vollziehen. Expectation S. die Ers
Execution S. die Ausfüha martuig, 2) die Auss
. rung. to put in execu- ficbt, Hoffnung.
tion, in Ausführung Expedient Adj. uglio
508
beilſam.
to Expire V. N. den Geiſt
Expedient S. ein ſchicklis aufgeben, verſcheiden.
des Mittel.
2) zu Ende geben. (von
Expedition S. die Eils der Zeit) verſtreichen.
fertigfeit.
to Explain V. N. erklären,
Expeditious udj. ſchnell, erläutern.
burtig.
· Explanation S. Erflårung.
Expeditiously adv.ronell, to Explore V. 4. erfors
burtig.
fchen, unterſuchen.
Expenſe S. Ausgaben, Exploſion S. der Inal.
Soften. I'll pay your to Expoſe V.4. auslebent,
expenſes, ich wil, did to be expoſed on an Iſ-
frey balten. atº the ex- land. Ausgereßt werden
penſe of others, auf an, an einer Inſel. 2) der
derer Leute ftoften don't Gefahr auslegen, to
put yourself to any ex expoſe his life.
penſe. (laßt 08 Eud to Expreſs V. 4. ausdrúf.
nichis foſten), Seyd uns fen, an den Tag legen.
befůmmert, Spart Euch Expreſſion S. der Nuss
die Mübe!
druof.
Experience S. die Erfab- Expréſfive udj. Ausdrud83
rung, by his own ex-. voll, bedeutend.
perience, aus eigner Er's Exquiſite adj. vortreflich,
fabrung.
ausgeſucht.
to Expérience V. A. ers Extaſy S. Entzüden, Ers
fabren, aus Erfahrung taſe.
wiſſen.
to Exténd V. N. fic er,
Expériment S. der Ver: ftrecfen, 2) V. A. auss
rud.
debnen. a ſpider had
Expiration S. Ende einer extended her web, eine
Zeit, Verlauf.
Spinne batte ihr Ger
509
toebe ausgeſpannt.
ben.
Extenſive 4dj. ausgedehnt. Extreme Adj. das repte,
extenfive Circle. Der - duſſerfte...
weite freis.
Extrémity S. das äuſſers
to Extinguiſh P. 4. quos fie Ende.
Torden: .
to Extricate V. 4. to extri-
Extraórdinary Adj. unge: cate himſelf, fich bers
möhnlich, auſſerordent: auswiffeln.
lib.
to Exult V. N. frohlof,
Extravagance, Extrava. fen.
gancy, S. die Ausa. Eye S. das Auge, to caſt
schweifung.
his eyes down, die Au.
Extravagant 101. uibertries gen niedercolagen.
F.
Fable S. eine Fabel. gen etwas zu thuit, Fas
Fàce S. das Geſicht, 411. bigfeit, Straft der See
gefidt.
Te , vorzugl. im Plur.
to Face V. A. fic entges. faculties, Seelenfräfte.
genstellen, to face a dan- to Fåde v. 9.
ger ; to face the ene- to Fàil V. N. febleit, mans
my, dem Feinde die gelli, ') V. A. unter:
Spille bieten.
lafen, ermangeln, I
10 Facilitate V. A. erleid. ſhall not fail.
tern.."
Fain Adv. gern.
Facility S. die leidtig. to Fåint V. N. Ohnmads
feit.
tig werden, in Don.
Fáct. S. die Ebat. in fact macht fallen. he fainted
würflich.
away.
Faculty S. das Vermos Faint adj. matt, fraftlos,
610
romado.
paffion, in Leidenſchaft
Fàintneſs S. Dünmacht. gerathen, to fall into a
Fair 40j. rohin, 2) giine (woon, ohnmáttig wers
ftis, the wind is fair den, in Obemacht fala
3) gelinde, ſanft, by len. to fall aſleep, pino
fair means, in der Gite. riafen, 10 fall in with
Faith S. der religioſe one, jemand antreffen,
Glaube, Glaubensbes benennen. 4) worüber
fenntniß, 2) Treue, Era berfallen - es mit Eis
gebenbeit.
fer anfangen, He fell a
Faithful Adj. treu, faith working. the dog fell
ful to his reſolution, a barking der Hund fing
ſeinem Vorſake treu, beftig an zu bellen. 5)
2) getreu, ergeben, the anheimfallen. It falls to
faithful maid-ſervant; - the ſhare of the Lord
the faithful dog
of the country.
Tàithfully udv. gewiſſen. Tall S. der Fall, 2) at
baft, pünktlich.
night - fall, bep Anbrud
to Fall (fp. fabl) P. N. der Nacht.
fallen, herabfallen, He Falſe Adj. falſch.
fell from the tree , 2) Famíliar Adi. bauslich,
bineinfallen, von Fleißen zur Familie gehörend 2)
gebraucht. where the vertraut, vertraulic.
Elb falls into the ſea, Familiárity. S. Vertraus
fällt, ſich ergießt, 3) in lidkeit. an air of fami-
einen Zuſtand gerathen, liarity ein vertrauliches,
beware of falling fick, zutraulices Weren.
Húte did, franf zu wers Family S. die Familie,
dent, to fall into great the father and mother
miſery, in großes Elend of the family, der Haus.
geratben. to fall into a vater und die Hauss
C
511
mutter.
tohl, aud Fare wel.
Fámiſhed Part. to famiſh, Farewell S. Der Abfdied.
verhungern.
He took his laſt farewell.
Fáncy S. die Einbildungs- Fármer S. ein Landmann,
fraft, 2) ein Einfall, Landbauer.
He took a fancy, pr be: Fárther Adv.- weiter, fer-
fam, gerieth auf den ner.
Einfall.
Fártheſt Sup. at fartheft.
to Fáncy V. N. ſich eine aufs booſte.
bilden. 2) V. 4. to fan- to Fáſt V. A. faften, fich
cy himſelf in onés pla- der Speiſen enthalten.
ce. fic in jemandes Fáft S. the break- faſt ,
Stelle denken.
Frubſtiid (gleidram der
Fáng S. teeth with long Brud des Faſtens.)
fangs, Zábne mit langen Fáft Adj. und Adv. feft,
Wurzeln.
to be in a faſt ſleep,
Fantáſtick adj. eingebil oder to be faſt alleep,
det, grillenbaft.
in einem tiefen Schlafe
Tár Ady. 4. adj. weit, reyn.
* entlegen, 2) (bis zu ei. Fáſt udv. burtig, as faſt
nem gewiſſen Grade) as they could, foronel
the day was far advan als ſie konnten.
ced, es war foon hoch to Fáſten V. 4. befeſtigen,
(weit) am Tage.
anbeften. I'll faſten (fix)
to Fare. V. 4. einen ges the map againſt the
wiffen Fortgang baben, tree, 2) feft verfolieſs
this time he fared bet- fen, 3) feſt auf etwas
ter, diesmal gelangs ibn .beften, to falten his eyes
beffer, (fuhr er beſſer). upon a thing.
Fare well (Imper. von Fálting S. das Faſteni ,
to fare , u. well.) Red How do you like fa.
512
fting ? wie gefällt euch Faulty. Adj. fehlerhaft.
das Faſten?
to Favour V. U. gemogen
Fát adj. fett.
reyn, wohlwollen, be:
Fát S. Das Fett.
glinftigen, if fortune fa-
Fatal #dj. unglüdlid, ges vour us ever ſo little ,
fåhrlich.
wenn uns das Grid nur
Fate S."dan Echidral, einigermaßen begünſtigt,
Verhängniß.
2) to be favour'd with
Táther S. der Vater, the a thing, wodurd) erfreut
father of the family, werden, 3) Jemanden
der Hausvater.
durd etwas ein Vera
Fátherly Adv. våterlidh. gnügen machen, ibm das
Fáthom S. ein Langenis mit einen Gefallen tbun.
mgaß von 6 Fuß, eine Favour S. die Gunſt, das
Stlafter, ein Faden.. Bohlwollen, 2) Bea
Fatigue (ſp. fatihg') 5. günſtigung, By the fa.
Ermüdung, Mattigkeit, vour of the night, mit
2) ſchwere Arbeit , Bes Hilfe, unter Begúnſti:
rohwerde, Strapaben. gung der Nacht, 3) ei,
to Fatigue V. . ermů - ne Gefälligfeit. Do me
den, müde macen. they the favour, tpu mir den
were greatly fatigued, Gefallen.
r. waren rebr erfoöpft, Favourable adj. giinftig,
ernattet.
favourable wind.
Fault (ſp. falt) S. ein Tavourite Adj. 4. S. vors
Fehler. It was not his suglio geliebt, Liebling,
fault, es war reine my favourite diſh, mein
Schuld nidt, 2) Mans Lieblingsgeridt.
gel, for fault of fire, Fear Š. die Furcht, Bes
in Ermangelung deb forgniß, I was in great
Feuers.
fear for them , ich war
513
iþretwegen sehr beſorgt. Féll Imp. von to fall.
for fear of falling, qus to Féll V. 4. niederbauen,
Beſorgniß zu fallen, um umbauen, to fell trees,
nicht zu fallen.
Båume fållen.
to Fear V. 4. fürdten, Féllow S. ein Gefährte,
V. N. fid fürdren play-fellow Spiel: Cac
Fearful 40;. furchtſam. merad, 2) im gering:
Fearfully adv. auf eine robåtenden oder veracht.
furchtſame Weiſe, ångſts liden Sinne, a poor
lid.
fellow, ein armer
Féaft S. ein Sonaue. It Soelm, a ſimple fel-
was a feaſt for mm. low, ein einfältiger
to Fèaft V. N. romauſen, Burſd - ein dummer
to feaſt on his meat, Junge, wird mit ande:
fios wohl romeden laſ ren Subſtantiven vers
ſen, fic redyt was zu bunden, überregt duro
Gute thun.
Mit - . B.
Féather. S. die Feder. Fellow - Citizen S. Mit.
February. S. der Februar búrger.
Féd Imp. von to feed. Fellow - Combatant S.
Feeble adj. rawach, matt. Mitſtreiter.
to feed ». U. filttern, Fellow- créature S. Mite
ſpeiſen.
geſchopf.
Feed S. das Futter, die Félt Imp. von to feel.
Nabrung.
Female udj. 1. S. weibs
· to Feel V. N. u. 4. fühe lid, ein Weibden, a
len, empfinden.
female Lama.
Fèeling S. das Gefüll, to Fermant V. N. in Gib.
die Empfindung.
rung gerathen, gåfren.
Feet plur. v. foot. Fermentation S. die Gäbe
Felicity. S. Gludſeligteit rung.
(33)
514
Ferocious Adj. wild, raubs Fiction S. die Erdichtung.
gierig.
Tíctitious adj. erdichtet,
Terócity S. Wildbeit, erſonnen.
Grauſamkeit.
Fie Interj. pfui!
Fértile adj. fruchtbar. Field S. das Feld, Uder,
Fertility-S. Frugtbarfeit. the field of battle, 086
Férvency S. Hiße des Solatfeld, der Stampfs
Gemiths, Inbrunft. plak.
Férvent dj. beiß, ins Tierce Udj. wild grimmis,
brünſtig, fervent thanks, 2) bibig, ungeſtiim.
his fervent wiſh , . Tiery udj. feurig, fiery
feuriger Wunſch, his eyes bligende Augen ,
fervent prayers, rein in: 2) erbitt.
brünſtiges Gebet. Fife S. eine Pfeiffe,
Térvently Adv. inbriinſtig. Duerpfeiffe, with file
Férvor S. die Inbrunſt. and, tabor...
Téſtival S. ein feſtlicher Fifteen Adj. funfaebn.
Tag.
Tíſleenth 4dj. der funf:
Felívity S. ein Freuden: zehnte.
feſt.
Fifth edi. der fünfte.
to Fétch Ý. 4. bolen, 2) lífthly 5fend, zuni fünften.
he fetch'd a deep figh, Fifty funfzig.
er bolte einen tiefen to Tight V. N. fecten,
Seufzer.
2) V. 4. bekämpfen,
Fétter V. A. Ferrein. fit mit jemand fola,
Fever S. das Fieber. gen, to fight the enemy.
Fov (pp. fju) Adj. wenige Figlit S. ein Treffen, Gps
a few, ein wenis, wes fecht.
nige:
Figure S. die Geſtalt,
Fibrous Adj. falis, fares Figur.
ris.
to Figure V. 4. to him-
515
Loll.
ſelf. figure yourſelves – Fine Abj. fein, 2) auser:
Stellt eucy vor. -
Teren, foón, vortreflid,
Tilament S. der Faden, 3) auch ironiſch, oh
2) die Faſer.
fine! 0, vortreflich!
Ile S. Sie Feile.' Finely Adv, auf eine feis
Filial 90j. Findlid, with ne, jierliche Uit, 2)
filial repentance.
auch ironiſo You have
Filings S. Plur. Feilſpås hit it finely, das baſt du
me, Feifftaub, filings of foon getroffen.
iron, Eiſenfeil. Fínger S. der Finger, the
to Till V. U. füllen i the fore- finger, der Zeiges
wind filled the ſail, finger.
rowellte die Segel, 2) to finiſh V. U. endigen,
to fill up, ausfüllen, gu Stande bringen.
aud fig. his time, reine Fire S. das Feuer, to be
Zeit ausfüllen.
on fire, brennent.
Fíll S. die Fülle, to eat to l'ire P. 4. anzünden,
his fill, fich ratt effen. 2) V. N. obne Subſtans
Tín S. Floßfeder der Fiativ, Feuer geben, loss
(che (Finne.)
ſchießen, feuern. He
Finally adv. endlid, jus fired, 3) fig. fired with:
left.
ipdignation, von uns
to Find. V. A. finden, willen angefeuert.
2) fid befinden, he found Fire-árms S. Schießges
himſelf weary, er füllte webr.
fic ermüdet, 3) to find Fire - bránd S. ein Feuer:
ausfindig maden 4) Hebrand.,
could not find it in his Fire. héarth S. der Feus
heart, Ertonnte es nidt erbeerd.
ribers Herz bringen. Fire - lóck S. das Feuers
Fine S. in fine, endlich geweht, Flinte.
516
Fire - fione S. 'ein Feuero Fiſh S. ein Fiſd.
ſtein.
to Fílh V. 8. firden.
Fire-tóng Seine Feuer: Fiſh-bone S. eine Firdi.
gange.
gråte.
Fírm Adj. feft, a firm Fiſherman S. ein Filder.
wall, 2) a firm reſolu- Fiſhing S. das Fiſmen,
tion,' ein ſtandbafter, Fildfang.
fefter Entroluß ,. firm Tiſhing-net ein Fildernes.
confidence, unerſcut: Fit S. der Paroxisnius
terlides Vertrauen. einer Stranfbeit , Cold
Firmament S. der Hims and hot fits ſucceeded
mel, das Firmament. each other, falte und
Firmly 903. feſt , tanda bitzige Anftiße folgten
baft, he was firmly re aufeinander , 2) eine
ſolved.
plötliche Veränderung,
Firmneſs S. Feftigfeit, in ein Anfal , 'in a fit of
regard to firmeels , in deſpair , in einem ans
Hinſicht auf Feſtigkeit, falle von Verzweifelung,
2) Standhaftigkeit, Bes in a fit of joy, in einem
ſtåndigfeit, firmneſs of Ausbruche der Freude,
mind , Standhaftigkeit 3) Donmadt. He feil
der Seele, Feſtigkeit into a fit.
des Geiſtes.
Fit 4dj. bequem, geſchickt,
Firſt Adj. der erſte. at the dienlich brauchbar mit
firſt fight , beym erſten for.
Blide, 2) Adv. zuerſt, to Fít . H. zubereiten,'
anfänglica i aud mit zuriten 2) V. N. mit
at. what they at firft ſup- dem Acc : einer Sade
poſed , was ſie anfangs gemäß ſeyn, ſich dazu
lid vermutheten.
foidfen. It would not
Fitfily udp, erſtlich. fit the circumſtances, es
517
mollte nicht paſſen zu den er ſchlug fich vor dit
Umſtanden.
Stirn.
Five Adj. fünf.
Flálh S. ein pionliges
to Fix V. 4. befeſtigen, lidt, of the powder ,
le fixed a mark , ho das obligaen des Puls
fixed a flag to a ſtick, vers, of lightning, ein
2) Ferreten , to fix a . Bligftrabl.
day, fixed upon", bes to Flálh V. 4. losblißen
soloſſen.
aufjemand, Feuer geben.
Flág S. eine Flagge, to Flát adj. u. Adp. filach,
hoiſt a flag, Pine Flagge platt, he laid himſelf
quffleden.
Hat down, a flat noſe.
Flail S. ein Dreſd flegel. to Flátter V. A. Tomeia
Flame S. die Flamme, deln, to flatter himſelf
das Feuer.
' with a hope.
to Flame V. 4. in Flam: Flax S. der Flads.
men ſtehen, lodern. Fláxy gewoonlicher Flaxen
Flaming Part. lichterlob. Udja fido fig, wie Flachs.
brennend.
Fléd Imperf. u. Part. von
Flánk S. die Flanfe, to flee.
Streid webre, two can- to Flèe V. N. flieben.
nons commanded the Fléſb S. Fleiro, 2) Fleiro-
right flank, gwey Sta: fpeiſe.
nonen beſtrider die rechs Flew Impf. von to fly.
te flanke.
Flexible adj. biegſam.
Fláp S. a fly-flap, eine Flight S. die Fludt.
Fliegenflappe, ein Flie, to Fling V. 4. werfen,
genwedel.
Pohleudern, 2) to fing
to Fláp V. U. mit einem down, zu Boden werfen,
Aachen Störper rolagen gerſtören, einreiſlen.
he Dapped his forehead, Flint ein Feuerſtein.
518
to Tloat . N. Ichwimmen, flieben, entfliehen, 3)
von Fahrzeugen ges to let fly , abrohießen,
braudt, ihe boat was sosbrennen , 4) to fly
floating. .. up, in die Luft fliegen,
Float S. aboat,' flott, auffliegen.
rowimmend, to get the fly S. die Fliege."
Chip afloat, és flott nias Tly- flap S. fliegenwedel,
den.
Fliegenflappe.
Flóck S. die Heerde. Flying Part, v. to fly, a
Flood (ſp.flodd) S. die des flying fiſh, ein fliegen,
berrowemmung, Fluth, der Fird.
Strohm.
to Foam V. N. fd åumen,
Floor (fp. flohr) S. der the foaming billows.
Fußboden. . . Todder Š. das Futter.
Flour. (fp. flaur) S. feis Fóe S. der Feind.
les mehr.
to Föld V. X. falten, fold
to Flouriſh (p. florill) his hands.
V. N. blúben.
Folk Cip. fohk) S. Men:
to Flow (fp. Aloh) V. N. rchen, Leute , young
fließen, berfließen. , folks , junge Leute, it'ins
Flower (ſp. flaur) S. die der.
Blume, 2) feines Mebl, to Follow ». U. folgen.
fp. flour. : : Tolly S. Eborbeit.
Flower-bed ein Blumens Tónd Adj. auf eine thos
beet.
, rigte Art verliebt, 2) to
Flower - Garden, ein Blus be fond of a thing,
mengarten.
übertrieben begierig nach
Tlown Part. you to fly. etwas renni (im guten
Fling Part. 4. Imp. von' und böſen Verſtande.)
to fling.
to Fúndle V. 4. romdi-
to Fly P. N. Riegen, 2) Qeln, liebforen.
Det
519
Tóndling S. ein Liebling. art, on this footing,
Food (ſp.fulid) S. Speis auf dieſen Fuß.
re, Nabrung, a well Foot-man S. ein Bediens
taſted and wholeſome ter, a running foot man,
food, eine woblidmet: ein Läufer.
fende und geſunde Nabs Foot - ſtep S. der Fußſtas
run 4.
pfen.
: -
Tool S. ein Thor, Narr. Fór Conj. Denn.
Fooliſh 401. tbörigt, 11års Fór Prep. für he left him
‘riſd), 2) poſſenhaft. for dead, er ließ ihn als
Fooliſhly Adv. auf eine (für) todt liegen, for
nårriſdie Art It was foo fear, aus Furcht. he
liſhly ſpoken. of the would for his life-have
young man, das war gone to B. Er molte
ein albernes Geſchwille für ſein Leben gern -
von Seiten dieſes jun. und ſollte es ihm das les
gen Menſchen.
ben foſten. for my part,
Foot (fp. futt) S. der Fuß was mich betrift. a ſhip
bey Menſchen und Thie: bound for Jamaica, ein
ren, 2) der Fuß, oder nad Jamaica beftimini,
der untere Theil anderer tes Sdiff. for ever, auf
Dinge, the foot of a immer. I was in great
hill, of a tree , 3) ein fear for him, reineties
Fuß --- all fångenmaß gjen febr beſorgt. for a
von 12 Zoll, da es denn while, auf einige Zeit.
im Plurali, vorzüglich but for - wenn etwas
wenn noch ein Adjectiv nicht wire, for all that,
dabey ftebt, wie im Deut: des allen ungeachtet.
schen, nicht verändert to Forbéar (Tp. forbaer)
wird.
V. N. unterlaſſen, ſido
Túoting $. die Lebens: entbalten, to forbear
520
from quarrels, fich aller Forenoon S. der Vors
Bånfereyen, Streitigs mittag.
feiten enthalten. Forepart S. der vordere
to Forbíd V. U. unterſas Theil den Raum nad),
gen, 2) God forbid ! 2) der erſte Theil der
Bebite Gótt ! das rey Zeit nach.
ferne!
Forelaw Imperf. von 10
Fórce S. die Stärfe, foreſee.
Straft.
to Foreſay V. 4. vorber.
to Fórce V. U. zwingen, fagen.
nöthigen to be forced to foreſee V. A. vorber:
into the conſpiracy. reben.
Fórcibly' adv. Heftig, auf Foreſight S. die Vorſorge.
eine gewaltſame Wriſe. Fóreft S. der Wald.
Fore Adj. das Vordere, to Fórfeit V. A. his life,
the fore part, dad, der rein Leben verwirken.'
Vordertheil, der vors Forge S. eine Somiede.
dere Ebeil.
to l'orgét V. vergeſſen.
Foreſinger S. der Zeiges to Forgive V.4. vergeben.
finger.
Forgiveneſs S. die Vers
Forego V. N. foregoing, gebung.
Part vorhergebend. Forgót Imp. v. to forget.
Forehead S. die Stiri. Fórk S. eine (größere
Fóreign Adj. auslåndiſin, oder kleinere) Gabel.
in foreign regions, in Fórky Adj. wie eine Gas
fremden Ländern. bel geſpalten, gabelig.
Foremoſt adj. u. udv. two forky branches ,
der, die, das Vorder: gabelförmig.
fte. on the fore moſt pen. Forlórn. Forlorn Crea-
inſula , auf der Halb: ture, verlaſſenes, bülfio:
inſel diſfeit des Ganges. res Geſchopf! forlorn
521
condition bulfebedürftis Fortiéth Adj.der vierzigfte.
ge Lane.
Fortification S. die Fes
Fórm S. die Form, Ge: ftung, Scanze.
ftalt, 2) die Art und to Fórtify, V. 4. befefti:
Weiſe, ir due form, gen, mit Fellungswers
auf die geborige Art. fen verſehen, 2) beſtår:
to Fórm P. 4. bilden, fen, in ſeinen Entſoliers
to form an Idea, fid ei. fungen befeſtigen, 3)
ne Vorſtellung machen, aufniuntern.
to form a conjecture, Fórtitude S. Mutb, Das
eine Muthmaſung was pferfeit.
gen. 2) ausmachen. Fortnight contr. aus four-
Fórmer 40j. der vorige teen nights , viergebn
vorerivihnte. 2) der er, Dage.
ſtere.
Fórtreſs S. ein befeſtig.
Fórmerly udv. ebedem, ter Ort, Feſtung.
vormals.
Fórtunate Adj. glüdlid.
Fórmidable adj. furchtbar, Fortunately Adv. glidlis
fürderlich.
. cher Weiſe.
to Forſake V. 4. verlaſſen. Fórtune S. die Glúdos
Forfóok Imp. D. to for- gottin, das Gliid, Sdifs
ral. If fortune favour
Fórth Udv. vorwirts, der us ever ſo little , 2) ein
Zeitnad. from this time guter uder böſer Zufall,
forth, fortbin , 2) bere a good fortune, ein
vor, to come forth, Glúd, an ill fortune.
to ſend forth, bervors by fortune , von unger
bringen. to ſally forth, febr, 3) Vermogen,
fic auf den Weg machen. Güter.
to take forth, berfries Fórty adj. Vierzig.
gen.
Fórward , forwards Adp.
fake.
522
vorwärts, to go back- Fourth 210j. der Piirte.
wards forwards , bin u. Fowl (ſp. fau'l) Si ein
· bergeben, 2) von der Vogel, 2) Federvieh
Zeit, from this time iberhaupt.
(day) forward, vonjekt Fràilty. S. Sdwide, Ges
an, von dem Lage an. brechlicfeit, Mangels
to Fórward V. U. beforeus baftigteit.
nigen, befördern. Frame S. ein Rahm, Gea
Fórwardneſs-S. Voreilige ſtelle, a frame of beams.
feit, unbeſonnenbeit. the frame of the har-
Fought (pp. fåht) Imp. row, 2) die fórperliche
v. to fight."
Geſtalt. His whole fra-
Foul Udj. unrein, ſchmutig. me trembled, er zitterte
Found Imp. 4. Part. v. am ganzen Leibe, 3)
to find.
frame of mind, Bes
Foundation S. der Grund. mthsſtimmung.
to Founder V. N. Zu 'to Fråme V. 4. bilden'to
Grunde gehen, the ſhip frame a judgment eilt
would founder, das Urtheil fållen, abgeben.
Schiff wollte finfert. Fránce S. Frankreich.
Fountain S. die Quelle. Tránkly Ady..frey beraud.
Four (ſp. fohr) Adj. vier, Fraternal 401. brúderlid.
to creep on all fours, Fraud (Tp. fra'd) S. ein
auf Händen und Fißen Betrug.
trieden Cauf allen Dies Free 40;. frey) to ſet free
ren.)
in Freyheit reten.
Four- lands S. Die Vier: to Tree V. 8. befreben,
lande, ein Theil des (from), in Freybeit.
Hamburgiſchen Gebiets. Pellent.
Fourteenth adj. der Vier: Freely Adv. frey beraus ,
gebinte.
2) freywillig.
523
El.
French adj. Franzilifo, to Fright v. A. erſdrefs
french beans, tirtiſche fen, Furdt einjagen.
Boonen, Virobohnen. Fright S. ein Schreden,
Frénch S. der Franzoſe. Fördt, to put one in a
to Frequént °. N. Buraims fright, jemanden ein
menfummen, fich ver: Schreden einjagen, pis
rammeln.
fdreden.
Frequént adj. Bäufig. to Frigliten V. A. fchrediit,
Fréquently Adv. båufis erſchreden, frightened
inehrmahls.
to death, todt vor Sørefe
Freſh adj. friſo, freſh fen.
water, freſh air, fill, Frightful adj. erſchredlid,
2) neu, friſd, freſh - furchtbar.
wood. to take freſh con- Frightfully Adv. auf eine
raġe, 3) munter, 4) et foredlide, furchtbare
was lebbaft, a freſh Art. .
gale, ein friſcher Wind. Frón Pråp. von (das ge-
Trélhneſs S. die ft'rible. wobnlide Zeichen des
Friction S. das Heiben, Ablativs). from on high,
Friction.
von Oben berab, aus
Friday S. der Freitag, der Hibe from thence
2) der Name des Geſello daher. from without,
roafters. unfers Robins von Uuſien her. from fúr
0118.
.
out, aus, bey gewiſſen
I'rièd v. to frý, gebraten. Verbis wird es auch 1100
Friend (fp. frend) S.der durch andere deutide
Freun8.
. Prepoſitionen überſent.
Friendly adj. 1. Adv. 3. B. to hinder from,
freundlid, woblwollend an etwas u. r. w...
Friendſhip S. die reunds Trúnt G.die vordere Seis
foaft.
te, die Fronte.
524
Frozen Part. 8. to freeze, Full Adj. voll , (mit of)
frieren, the frozen ſea, to have (eat) his belly
das Eismeer.
full, fich ſatt effen, to
Frugal Adj. ſparſam, 2) fall at full length, der
måfis.
gangen Långe nad.
Frugálity Sparſamkeit, 2) Full udv. vállig, full as
Maßigkeit.
good, völlig ro gut.
Fruit S. die Frucht. Fully udv. völlis, gång:
Fruitleſs udj. vergeben18, licy. He was fully con.
Fruit - tree S. ein Obſts vinced, völlig überzeugt.
baum.
fully reſolved, feſt ents
to Frúlirate V. 4. verei: roloffen.
telli, to fruſirate one's Fulſome Adj. efelbaft,
hopes, to be fruſtrated widrig.
in his hopes, in reinen Fur S. Pelz, Pelzwerf,
Hoffnungen getäuſcht wrapped up in fur, in
werden.
Pelzwerf eingehüllt.
to Fry V. A braten, bafo Furious adj. wütend. 2)
fen, 2) to fry out, ; ungeſtům, the furious
berausfiefern, durddrine waves.
Furiously. Adv. wütend,
Foying - pan eine Brats raſend.
pfanne.
to Fúrl v. 4. zuſammena
Fuel. S. alles was dem wideln. to furl a Cail
Feuer Nahrung giebt, ein Segel einreffen.
Feuerung.
Frírnace S. der Ofen.
Fugitive udj. flichtig. to Furniſh V. 4. verſes
Fugitive S. ein Flüchts ben mit dem Notbwens
ling.
digen.
$0 Fulfill V. A. erfüllen, Furniture S. Hausgeråth,
2) befriedigen.
2) Gerator@aft ubers
gen.
525
baupt.
auf8 Hoofte. the furtheft
Further Compar. . Forth, point, die Äuſſerfte
adj. 1. Adv. weiter, Spizie.
ferne. kill a further or Fury S. die Wuth.
der, bis auf weitern Fùture S. die Zukunft,
Befehl. Let us hear, for the future, in Zus
what further happen'd funft.
to him.
Future #dj. fünftig.
Furthelt , Fortheſt Sup. Futurity S. Die Zufunft,
von forth, at fortheft, in the remoteſt futurity,
auf das ſpäteſte, långſter in die fernſte Zufunft.
to Gàin V. A. gewinnen. Gárdening S. der Gartens
to Gain his end. reine Ab- bau, die Gärtnerey.
licht erreichen.
Gárden - work S. Gars
Gainer S. einer der ges tenarbeit.,
winnt to be a gainer, Gárter S. das Strumpfs
gewinnt.
· band.
Gàle S. ein friſoer Wind. Gåce S. eine große Tour,
Sturm.
ein Thor. not far from
Gállant Adj, brav, tapfer. the gates of Hamburgh,
Galleon S. eine Art großer nicht weit von den Tbo.
Soiffe, eine Gallione. ren Hamburgs.
Gárbe. Stleidung, Puß. to Gáther V. 4. fammeln,
Gárden S. der Garten. verſammeln.
Gárdener S. der Gårt: Gàve Imp. D. to give.
Gaùts (ſp. gahts) S. R.
Garden - ground S. das das Gebürge Gates,
Gartenland.
auf der Halbinſel dieſ.
ner.
526
frit des Ganges. phiſch, in your geogra-
Gècle Plur. B. Gooſe. phical leſons, beym lins
Geeſe - green S. eine terricht in der Erdbes
Ganſeweide.
ſchyreibung.
Géneral S. das Ganze, Gérman udi. Deutro.
Algenceine. In general Germany S. Deutſbland.
liberhaupt, 2) der Ge: Géfure S. die Geberde.
neral, Oberbefehlshaber. to Get V. A. erhalten, bes
Génerally 400. gewi111 fommen, annehmen, he
lih, gemeiniglid, 2) got ſight of it, er ber
überhaupt.:
Fan's zu Geſichte - mas
Generation. S. die zu pis den dnb etwas geldiebt,
ner Zeit lebenden Mens . etwas thun laſien. He
roei. (Zeitalter), Bes got himſelf enliſted, er
neration.
ließ ſich anwerben, 3)
Generóſity G. Grosmith, durd Arbeit und Mube
Edelmuth.
erhalten, ſich erwerben.
Génerous adj. edelmüthige to get an houelt lively-
grosmithis.
hood, lid ein ebrliches
Génerously adv. großmu: Ausfommen vendaffen.
thiger Weiſe.
Clich redlich nábren) 4)
Gentéel 901. geſittet, are ale Belohnung erhalten.
tig. a genteel education, Now he got his deſerts,
eine feine Erziehung. Nun bekam er ſeinen
Géutle adj. ranft, mild verdienten Loon. 5) to
Géneleman S (Pill Mann *get out, herausbringen,
von gutem Stande) ein to get through zu Stans
Berr.
De bringen, fertig wers
Gentle udv. auf eine ſanfs den. to get bold of one,
te, leutſelige Art. jemand faſſent, ergreifa
Geographical Adj. geograe fen, 6). Als ein Neu:
527
trum, fid fortbewegen. Girdle S. ein Gürtel.
he got up, er ſtand aufr Girl S. ein Mädchen.
to get under fail, unter to Gíve V. U. 1) geben,
Segel geben, 7) gelan: 2) to give way, nech.
ge11, the fire had got to geben to give himſelf
the powder - room, bat: up to one, ſich einem
te die Pulverfammer er, ergeben.
reidt, 8) 10 get the bet- Gíver S. der Geber.
ter of etc. esmas befie: Glád Adj. froh, I am glad
gen, libertrefferl.
of it, ich freue mid dars
Giddy u0j. rohwindelnd, úber.
2) leichtſinnig, fame Gládly Adv. mit Freuden,
giddy young man. 3) sern.
in einem hohen Grade Glaſs S. das Glas, romol
für etwas eingenommen als Materie , als das
reyn. I will lave his daraus perfertigte Ols
head turn giddy. Ich fiß.
wvůnſitje feine Seele mó, Glaſs - bead Glasperle,
ge sanz vou davon fern. Glascoralle.
Gift S. die Gabe, das to Glaze V. A. mit einer
Geichent.
glasartigen Dberflåde
to Gild V. 4. vergolden. überzieben, glaſuren,
2) gleiðſam alb auf ein glaſieren.
nem Goldglanze echels to Glitter V. N. (minis
Ten, the ſun gilded the mern, blinfon a glittering
tops of the mountains. thing, ein ſchimmerndes
Gimlet (ſp. gimlet) S. Ding.
ein Bobrer.
Globe S. die Erdkugel i
Gín (ſp. dfhin) S. cine 2) eine fünſtlide Erd,
Solinge.
oder Himmelsfugel, ein
to Gird V. 8. gürten. Globus.
528
1
Gloom S Dunfelheit, feit, Frammisfeit. We
2) Traurigkeit. Gódly adj. gottſelig. god.
Gloomy udj. dunfel.gloo ly actions, fromme, gotte
my ſhades, 2) traurig, gefällige Handlungen.
mißvergnügt.
Going Part. v. to go. be
Glorious adj. beiter, berrs was going to ſee etc.
lid, it was a glorious Er war im Begriffe zu
night.
reben..
Glóve S. ein Handſchuh. Gold (fp. gobld oder
to Glow V. N. glúben, guhld) S. Gold. Gold-
(im eigentlichen und duft, Goldrand. Gold.
figürlichen Verſtande). coin, eine Goldmünze.
Griat S. eine* Múde. Golden 401. golden, for
to Gnàw V. 4. magen, wohl wurflich als rdeins
abnagen.
var.
to Go V. n. geben, if Góne Part. v. to go, the
he would go along with mother was too far go-
him. 2) im Begriffe ne, ju rehr entfråftet,
reyn etwas zu thu11, He ju obnmächtig. .
was going to ſee the Good Adj. u. udv. gut,
world. 3) mit about, 2) braudbar, to be good
eine Sache unternehs for a thing , wozu taus
men, vornehmen. 4) go gen, núten. Your um-
afiray , in der Jrre ger brella is good for no-
ben, fic verirren. 5) thing , dein Sonnens
the ſun goes down, roirm taugt midts ,
geht unter. 6) to go on, 3) berrådtlich. a good
fortfabren, fortføreiten. while, eine beträchtliche
Goat S. die Ziege. Zeit, eine gute Weile,
Gód S. Sott.
a good deal, ein Bea
Gódlineſs S. Gottſelig trådtlides, ein Anſebne
529
lides. 4) to be as good fenfen, 2) beherrſdent.
as his word, rein Wort Government S. die res
balten.
gierung, Regierungs-
Good S. ein Gut, das art.
Gute. It would do no Governour, Governor S.
good, es murde niots der Beberrider, 2) der
belfen. 2) das Beſte, Statthalter, Gouver..
for our good , fu un, neur.
Perm Beſten. You'll find Grace S. Gnade, Gunſt,
much good by it, Ihr 2) Pardon, Begnadia
werdet euch rebr mohl das gung.
bey befinden. 3) Goods Gràcious Adj. gnådig ,
Plur. Güter, Waaren. buldreid.
Good - natured 901. guty Good gracious ! (im Auss
muthig, ein gutes Her ruf) guter Gott! Him-
babend.
mel!
Goodneſs S. Gúte, das Gràciously Udv. auf eine
Gute, Gútinfeit. the buldreide Art.
: goodneſs of his confti. Gradually Udv. ſtufenmei:
tution, feine gute Ges re, allmåblig nach und
fundheit.
nac.
Gooſe S. die Gans. to Gráft Þ. ¥. pfropfen,
Gooſe- berry S. die Stas reifern.
chelbeere.
Gráft S. ein Pfropfreis.
Gooſe berry - buſh S. ein Gráfling S. das Pfropfen.
Stadelbeerftrauch. Gráfting - wax S. Baum:
Gót Imp. (u. Part.) 1. wachs.
to get.
Gràin S., der Samen von
Gótten Part. 0. to get. Getraide, Storn. 2) jes
to Govern V. A. regieren. Des Gelåme 4. Saamens
to govern the boat, furn, 3) jedes andere
(34)
530
Storn. grains of ſhot, Grátis Adv. unentgeldlich,
Schrootforner.
umſonſt.
Gránary S. eine Scheuer. Grátitude S. die Danf-
Gránd - papa S. der Groß- barfeit
vater.
Grave Adj. ernſtbaft, fepers
to Gránt" V. 4. bewillis lich.
gen, vergleiden, ge: Gràve @. das Grab.
wibren. God grant, Gråvely ado. auf eine
Gott gebe God will grant ernftbafte, fenerliche Art.
you a faler return. tg to Gràze V. N. graſen,
grant grace. begnadigen. :meiden.
yon ſhall have your li- Gréat Adj. groß. a great
ves granted. Es ſoll many, eine große Mene
Eud das Leben geſchenft ge a great deal, vict.
werden.
*2) groß, von der Zeit:
Gràpe S. eine Weintraube. dauer, a great wliile ,
to Gráfp V. 4. greiffen, eine geraume Zeit.
ergreiffen.
Gréatly Adv. in einem bo:
Graſs S. das Gras. ben Grade, rebr. great-
Gráſs-plot oder Graſs-plat ly rejoiced, bod er:
S. der Raſenplar. freut.
Gratificàtion S. die Be: Grèedineſs S. die Gierin:
friedigung. .
Grateful adj.dankbar, er's Greek S. Der Griece.
fenntlid.'
Green Adj. grún.
Gråtefully udv. auf eine Grèen S. das Grúne (gri.
dankbare Weiſe,
ne Waare), Strauter,
to Grátify . 4. jemanden Studenfråuter.
willfahren. one's curio. Grèw Imp. v. to grow.
fity. P. Neugierde bes Grief S. der Gram, Mums
friedigen..
mer.
531
to Grieve . 4. befúm: Ground floor S. 098 Erds
mern, frånfen. it grie- geſchoß.
ves me...
to Grow V. N. madren,
Grievous adj. verdrieß: aufwachſen. 2) werden,
lich, frånfend.
it grew dark.
Grievously Adv.' auf eine Grown Part. v. to grow.
(dmerzbafte Art.
grown people , erwad.
Grind V. 2. gerreiben, rene Leute.
mablen. to grind his Growth S. das Wadiens
corn.
der Wadstoum.
Grind - ſtone S. ein to Grub V. 4. ausgraben
Soleifſtein, Webſtein mit der Wurzel..
to Groàn V. 4. Ådzen, Guánako S. ein Sids
reufzen.
amerifaniſches Thier,
Gróan S. ein Seufzer, aud fama genannt.
das Hechzen.
to Guárd ». U. Bewaden,
Groom S. groom of the båten, 2) louißen, bez
chamber, ein Stammers ſchůßen.
diener.
Guárd S. die Wade, 2)
Grótto S. eine Grotte. to be on his guard, auf
Ground Imp. und Part. ſeiner Hut reyn.
von to grind.
Guardian Adj. rahugend.,
Ground S. der Grund, guardian care, der
Boden. he fell on the Souß, die Dübut.
ground, an elevated to Guéfs . . . N.
ground, eine Anhöhe. muthmaßen, vermutben,
2. der Grund, Beweiß. 2) rathen, erratben.
grund.
Guéft S. der Saft.
to Ground Ý. U. grúns Guidance S. die feitung,
den. well grounded, Führung.
feſt gegründet. to Guide P. M. feiten,
532
führen.
eine engliſde Münze,
Guide S. ein Wegweiſern von etwa 6 Thaler am
Fibrer.
Werthe, eine Guinee.
Guile S. Argliſt, Betrug. Guill S. eine Art Servis
in whom there was no gel, die meve.
guile, in dem Fein Falldy Gulph. S. der Abgrund.
war.
Gun S. ein jedes Feuer-
Guilt S. Die Sduld, das gewehr, es rey groß
Verbrechen.
oder Flein, als fianunen
Guilty Adj. eines Verbres und Flinten.
dens duldig. which 1 Gun-powder S, Scießs
have been guilty of, die pulver.
ich mir babe zu Souls to Gúſh V. N. mit Hefs
den fommen laſſen. tigkeit fließen ; a tear
Guínea (ſp. Ginni) S. die guſhed down his checks.
Landſchaft, guinea , ani Gúſt. S. a guſt of wind
der Werftifte von 'fris' ein Windſtoß.
ca, a guinea - trader, Gut S. ein Darm, plur.
rin Guinee - Fabrer, 2) die Eingeweide.
H.
Hábit S. die Gewohnheit, Hád Imp. 4. Part. 3. to
an eaſy habit.
have.
Habitàtion Si die Wobs Hảil S. der Hagel.
nung.
Hair S. das Haar. your,
Habítual Adj. zur Fertig: hair will ſtand on end,
feit geworden. ange. die Haare werden Euco
moont.
,
zu Berge fteben.
Hackle S. die Hedel. Hálf udj. u. 400. balb.
to Hackle . 4. bedeln. Halloo Int. quo ! das Aufs
533
>
munterungsgeldrey. 2) anmuthig, artig.
to Halloo. V. 4. N. qurus to Hang V. 4. hången,
fen, aufidreven.
to hang out, Qushåns
to Hált. (Tp. halt) Halt gen. to hang down,
machen.
niederlaſſen. 2) benken.
Hámmer S. der Hammer. 3) V. N. bangen, to
Hánd S. die Hand. His hang down , berunters
hand is in, er ift damit bangen.
beſchäftigt. Winter is at to Háppen V. N. von uns
hand, der Winter iſt gefähr fid zutragen. let
vor der Thür. before us hear, what happen'd
hand, zum voraus, to R., wie es ihm ging.
vorher.
a ſhip that happen'd to
Hándful S. eine Hands , be near, welches. etwa
vou.
in der Näbe renn mögte.
Handicraft S. ein Hand: 2) zufällig auf etwas ges
werf. Handicraftsman; rathen. . .
ein Handwerker. Happily Adv. glücklicher.
Hándkerchief S. ein weiſe.
Sonupftuc, Halstuch. Háppineſs S. die Glúdre:
Handle S. die Handhabe, ligkeit.
Handgriff Heft, Stief. Happy Adj. glúdlid.
to Handle V. 4. Bandha- Háralled Part. ermüdet er's
ben, how to handle a fopft.
knife wie er mit einem Hárbour S. ein Hafen.
Meſſer umgeben (es balo to Hárbour V. a. bebera
ten) route.
Bergen. 'to harbour a
Handmill S. eine Hande fufpicion, einem Vers
mille.
dachte Raum geben.
Hlándſome (ſp. hanſſom) Hárd Adj. adv. hart, feſt,
adj. Bequem, dienlio: 2) lawer mühſam, a hard
534
conteft, ein Powerer rirr.
Kampf. to work hard, to Ilárneſs . 4. anſchirr
múbfam arbeiten. 3) bef: ren.
tig, it rain’d very hard. Hárrový S. eine Egge.
to Hárden V. N. bart 'wers to Hírrow V. 4. eggen.
den, fid bårten, 2) V. Harry S. der verfirzte
4. bartmaden 9 befeſtis Name v. Henry, Heins
gen, abharten. To har- ric.
den his conſtitution , Hárſh Adj. berbe.
reine Geſundheit ftårs Hárveles. die Hernte.
fen, fid abbårten, Hálp S. ein Riegel, zum
Hárdly Adv. rowerlich, vorroieben.
Faum.
. * Halie S. die Eiffertigkeit,
Hárdſhip S. Beſchwerden Eile, in halte, eilig.
Ungemad
to make halte, eilen,
Hárm. S. Beleidigung. . fortnaden.
It had done him no to Hàfie, Haften V. N. eis
harm, Et hatte iom len. to hafie away , 2)
nichts zu Seide gethan. P. 4. beſchleunigen, bes
2) Sdaden, what harm treiben, to halten a
wine does etc. wie ſchids work.
lich der Wein iſt. Hàfiily Adv. eilfertig, burs
Hármleſs adj. unſchädlich. Stig.
theſe harmleſs animals, Hàfty Adj.eilig. with haliy
dieſe unſchuldigen Tbies ſteps, mit ſchnellen
re."
Sdritten.'
Harmonious Adj. übereins Hát S. der Hut.
ſtimmig, barmoniſch. Hátchet S. ein Beil his
Hármony S. Uebereins fione hatchet, rein ſtei:
ſtimmung, Harmonie. nernes Beil.
Hárnels S. das Pferdege, Hateful adj. perhaßt.
535
nuß.
to Have V. A. baben. mine is an excellent one,
lláving Subſt. Part. (v. Vivat mein Kopf! 4)
: to have) das Haven, Hauptpunft, Hauptlar.
ber Beſis.
Hauptgefidtspunft. to
· to Haul (ſp. hahl) D. 4. unite them under one
ziehen, roleppen. they Common head.
hauled the boat to the Head - ach. Head - åke. S.
ſhip.
die Stopffomerzen.
Hiy S das Heu.
Head- long Udv. mit dem
Hay-rick S. der Heuſchos Stopfe voran, 2) über
ber.
Hals und Stopf.
Hazel - nut S. ein Harela to Heal V. 4. Beilen.
Health S. die Geſundheit,
IJé Pron. Perſon. Er, 2), Wohlfahrt.
ein mannlides Deſen Healthy Adj. geſund.
bey den Thieren. a He Heap S. ein Haufe.
Lama, ein Lamabod. to Heap v. 4. båufen,
a He one.
aufbaufen.
Iléad S. das Haupt, der to Hear V. N. 8. bören.
Stopf. head over heels, to Hearken V. N. borden.
über Hals und Kopf, they hearkened to him
2) die Spige, der Gi: with great attention ,
pfel. 3) Verſtand und ſie bórten ihm aufmerks
Willensfråfte. It came ram zu.
into his head, he put Heart S. das Herzi (io-
it into his head, wo wir wol eigentlich als figúrs
aud im Deutſchen das lic.) with all my heari,
Wort Stopf gebrauchen von Herzen gern. He
it r'an through his head. could not find it in his
Ed.ging ibm durch den heart. Er konnte es
Stopf. This head of midt ubers Herz brin.
536
gen. He took heart, ger horen.
er faßte Mutb). 2) Ge Héaven S. der Himmel,
dächtniß. to know by 2) das hodie Weſen.
heart, auswendig wifs Heavenly udj. dimmliſc.
ren. 3) foi his heart, our heavenly father. .
für rein Leben gern. Héavily Adn. auf eine ben
Hearts - eaſe S. at his ſchwerlide Art.
hearts-eaſe, nach Herzens- Heavy udj. rower. 2)
.. wund.
trås, langſam time ap.
Hearth S. der Herd. pears heavy to him. die
Heartily Adv. von Herzen, Zeit dåudt ihm lang.
berzlic.
weilig..
Héarty Adj. lebhaft, ſtarf. Hédge S. ein Zaun, Hede.
a hearty ſhake, ein der. Hèed. S. Sorge, Aufe
ber Stoß.
merffamfeit, Vorſicht.
Heat S. die Hiße. 2) Let him who ftandeth
Heftinfeit, Lebhaftirfeit. take heed etc. mer mobi
In the heat of his joy, fent rebe zu, daß er
in der Hiße feiner nicht falle!
Freude.
Hèel S. die Ferſe am Fuße,
to Heat V. 4. beißmaden, at his heels. head over
erbigen.
heels , über Hals und
Heathen S. ein Heide. Stopf.
Heating S. das Spitzen, Hèight. (ſp. heit, oder
2) das Erbilen.
heht) S. die Hofe. 2)
to Heave V. 4. aufbeben, boder Grad, in the
in die Hobe beben, ber's height of his joy, im
aufziehen to heave on Taumel reiner Freude.
ſhore' 2) aus der Bruſt when the fire was burn-
beben. to heave a deeping at its height, wenn
high, einen tiefen Seuf: · das Feuer hodaunloderte.
537
to Hèighten (f. heit'n) V. Henceforth 400. fünftis,
4. erhoben, in die Hoz ins Stúnftige.
be beben.
Hénry S. Heinrich.
Heir (ſpr. ehr) S. der Hér Pron. Perſon, und
Erbe i
Poteßi fie , ibr. f. die
Héld Imp. 4. Part. von Gramm.
to hold.
Da man die Schiffe ,
to Hély V. A. Delfen, (vornehmlio wenn ſie in
benfteben. 2) hindern, Bewegung find) im
abbelfen. We can't help Engl. als Generis Fóm.
it, wir können's nicht anſieht, ſo wird es im
hindern, fönnen nicht · Deutſben oft durds
davor, (dafür). He Neutr. úberreßt, a wave
could not help but carried her 'up to the
er konnte midt umhin. [kyo While ſhe lay
He could not help ſhed on one ſide. - :
ding a tear, er fonnte Hérb S. eine Pflanze, ein
ſich der Chránen nicht, Straut. ' . . ,
enthalten. 3) verhelfen. Hérd S. Heerde.
to help himſelf to a Hère Udv. bier.
thing. - +) bey Tiſde. Hère - about you. in die:
einem vorlegen, bedies ſer Gegend, bier bera.
nen.
um.
Hélp S. die Hülfe: Hère - after Adv. fünftig,
Hélper S. der Hilfer. dereinft.
Helpleſs adj. bilflosi in Hère - by udv. hierdurch
his helpleſs condition. durd dicres Mittel.
Hem Interj. Si, ad ! Hère - in Adv. bierin,
Hémp S der Hanf. darin.
Hénce Ady. von bier, von Hère - of adv. biervon,
daber.
davon,
538
Hère - on Adv. Hierauf, deuslich.
bieran.
High Adi. und udv. hod.
Here - to 903. bierzu. on high, in die Hobe.
Hèreupon adv. bierauf. from on high, von oben
Hérmit S der Einſiedler, berab, 2) beftig. the
Eremit.
wind blew high. -high
Hèro, Fèroe S. ein Held. winds, ſtarfe Winde.
Heróical 901. beldenmů: Highly Adv. He was highe
thig, heroiſd.
ly delighted, Pr war
Hérring S. ein Hering. Boderfreut.
to Hélitate V. N. uns High - water S. die Fluths
ſchlüßig reyn. He, he- zeit, bohes Waſſer.
fitated a few moments, Hill S. ein Hügel.
er bedachte einige Aus Hím (von he) ibm, ihn.
genblide. . Himſelf Pron. er, ihn
Heftation S. die unſolüſs felbite - he was beſides
figkeit. without any himſelf, er war auſſer
heſitation, obne Bedente · fid). to live by himſelf,
fen.
allein leben.
to Hew V. 4. bauen, fål. Hind Adj. das bintere.
len 2) behauen. I the hind part, der bin,
Híd Part. und Imp. v. tó tere Tbeil a lind quar-
hide.
ter, ein Hinterviertel.
to Hide V. 4. verbergen, Hinder vi hind 1. das vor.
verſteden. he hid him. on his hinderlegs , auf
ſell behind a tree. ſeinen Hinterbeinen
Hide S. die Haut eines to Hinder V. A. bildern
Thiers, Fell
(mit from , an etwas.)
Hídeous adj. båßlich, Hinge S. die Tbúrangel.
rdeuslid. ** Hint S. ein Wert, eine
Hideously udv. båßlid Anſpielung.
539
His Pror Port rein, reis a boat, ein Both aus:
11e, im Sing. u. Plur. heben, ausleben.
Hiſtory S. die Gerdichte. to Hold v. 4. bälten. hold
hiſtory of travels, Nieis out, binhalten, ausfiref:
rebeldreibung.
fen. to hold a conver-
Natural hiſtory S. Naturs ſation, eine Unterredung
beforeibung (Naturges balten.
ſchidyte)
Hold S. It has no hold
to Hít Þ. 4. treffen. he' 8 bat feinen Halt. -
hit the mark, er traf 2) to lay bold, take
- das Ziel, das Weiſſe. hold , get hold of a
to hit upon a notion, thing, etwas ergreiffen,
gerathen auf die Gedano falſen, erwiſden. 3) der
fen. hit upon angedeus unterſte Raum in dem
tet, hingewieſel. 2) ers Schiffe, der Raum, der
rathen, You have hit Kielraum ; there is four
it, ihr babt's getroffen. foot water in the hold.
Hit S. ein Sdlag, Streich, Hole S. eine Hoble, 2)
Wurf. 2) ein Zufall. a ein foci. .
Jucky hit, ein glúdlis Hóllow udj. bobl. the
der Zufall.3) ein Einfall. tree was hollow with
Hítherto udy. bis jeßt age, war vor Alter bolla
bis bierber. . to Hóllow V. 4. böblen,
Hobgoblin S ein Geſpenſt. aushihren.
Ilógshead , rein Drthoft, Hóllow S. eine hohlung,
jedes große Faß.. eine Hible, 2) die Bere
to Hóift V. A. in die Hd. tiefung.
be beben. to hoiſt the Holy Udj. heilig.
fail, die Segel aufzies Hóly-day S. ein Feſttage
ben. to boilt a Hag, die Feyertag.
Flagge aufſteden. to bioft Hómage S. der Eid der
540
Treue, der Huldigung. 30nt, Geſichtsfreis.
to do him homage, ihm Horizontally udv. auf eis
buldigen.
ne borizontale, wage:
Home Subſt. das Haus. rechte Art.
at home, zu Hauſe. 2) Hórn S. 098 Horn.
die Hermath, to leave Hórned adj. gehörnt. the
his own home.
horned monſter.
Home udv. heim. to go Hórribly Adv. ſchrecklich,
home, nach Hauſe ges entreprid).
ben.
Húrrour S. ein Schauer,
Hóneft adj. ehrlid, redits Graufen.
fdhaffenó an honeſt man, Hórſe S. das Pferd.
ein braver Ma1111. Hórſe-hair. S.Pferdebaar.
Hónefiy S. die Rechtſchaf- Hoſpitality S. die Safts
fenheit, Ehrlidhkeit. freundidaft.
to Hónour V. A. ehren, Holi S. der Wirth.
beebren. honour'd R! Hófile (fv. hofiil) 201.
Hudgeehrteſter Herr R. feindlich. in an hoftile
Honour 5. die Würde, manner, auf eine feinds
Ehrenſtelle, 2) die Ehre. relige art.
Iónourable udj. ehrenvoll. Hót adj. beiß. red hot ,
10 Hóp V. N. hüpfen. glübend beiß.
hopping about.
Hour S. die Stunde. 2)
Hope S. die Hoffnung. Die Glode.
to be in hopes, hoffen, Houſe S. das Haus. a
in der Hoffnung leben. ftore houſe , ein Vors
to Hope V. . boffen. rathshaus, Magazin.
Horizon (imgemeinen Les Houſe - hold S. die Haut-
ben ſpridt niani horèis'en baltung, 2) Hausgeråth.
in der Poeſie aber hor- How udv. auf was Art,
èis aus.) S. der Horia mir.
541
However Udv. indeß , Your moſt humble fer-
nichts deſto weniger, auf vant! geborſamer Die-
welde Art es molle.. ner.
However great - ſo groß to Hiimble V. 4. demais
er aud reyn mag. thigen, erniedrigen.
Howl S. das Gebeul. . Humbly Adv. demnithiger,
to Howl V. N. heulen. Weiſe.
howling hurricane, ein Humility S. Demuth, lin:
beulender Orfan (iſt in terperfung.
der engl. Prore ein un- Himour S. in good hu-
gewöhnlicher Uusdruck.) mour, in guter Laune.
Howling S. das Geheul, Hríndred hundert.
Setore.
Hiing Imp. u. Part. von
to Hviddle v. N. licy in to hang
Eilfertigkeit rammeln. Huínger S. der Hunger.
to Hug V. 4. umarmen. Hvíngry Udi. bungrig.!
Huge Adj. febr groß, un to Hunt V. A. N. jagen.
geheuer.
Hvínter Jäger. a hunter'se,
Iliiman (ſp.juínımen) Adj. pouch, bag, eine Jagos
menſolid). a human crea- tarohe.
tnre , ein menſclides Hunting S. das Jagen,
Werem. human life. die Jagd. this day lie
Humane (ſp. junéhn) Adj. did not go a hunciny
freundlich, lieblich, men, an dieſem Tage ging ec
roenfreundlid, menfaa nidt auf die Jagd.
lid.
Hunts-man S. ein Jäger.
Humanity S. die Menſch: Hurricane (fp. hórrikan).
heit. 2) Menſalimfeit; S. ein heftiger Sturm,
Freundlichkeit, Men: ein Drfan.
roenliebe.
to Húrry V. N. eilei.
Humble , Adj., demitvig. Hurry S. die Eile, Eils
542
fertigkeit. in the great- Huſband-man S. ein Lands
eft hurry.
mann.
to Hurt D. À. verleggen, Huſbandry S. Landwirths
beſchädigen. it was not ſchaft, Feldbau.
in the lesit hurt'; gång Kuish Conteri. ftill! 'ft!
unberoddigt.
to Hülh P. N. ftill, rubin
Huut . die Verlosung I renn. the form was
Berdådigung.
huſhed, bat ſich gelegt.
Hurtful adj. roadlid,
nachtbeilig.
Hvíſk S.die Hilſe, Schali.
Huſband S. Ebemann, Hvit S. eine Hütte.
Semable her deceaſed Hymn (fv. hinim) S. ein
haſband, ihr verſtorbe: Geſang, Lobgefang, auch
ner Mann, 2) Haue: a hymn of praiſe.
wirth. as a good hul- Hypochóndriack Adj. by:
band, als e. guter Hauss pocondriſo, milfůd
bilter.
tig.
I. Der Vocal.
Einige mit Im, und In anfangenden Wörter fing
den ſid) unter e,
1 Prun. Perr. Id. : ganz untbåtis, müßig
Idèa (fp. eidíae) S. eine da ſißen.
Vorſtellung, Begriff, Idleneſs S. Faulbeit, 2)
· Idee. I have an idea. Mulig gang.
Ich megne. From an Íf Sunj. wenn, 2) ob.
idea in der Meynung. Ignorance S. Unwiſſens
Idle udj. tråge, faul, 2) beit.
müßig. to fit quite idle, Ignorant 4dj. unwiſſend.
543
to be ignorant of a thing, I'mitable 281. nachabs
etwas nicht wiſſen.
mungswürdig. 2) nach:
I'll fatt I will.
ahmlich.
I'll 40. Udv. robledht, úbel, to Imitate . 4. nadans
boſe. 2) frant. ,to be men, nachmaden.
taken ill, frant werden. Imitation S. die Nadah:
3) ill fortune , Mißges.mung.
Toid.
Immediate adj. unmittels
illneſs.fblechte Biroufs bar. for his iminediate
fenbeit, 2) Stranfbeit. ule, zu ſeinem augens
Illuſion S. Cáuſdung. blicflichen Gebraudz.(fp.
Imaginable adj. denkbar. immíjaedly) Adv. Fus
Imáginary Udi. eingebiſs gleich, fofort.
Det. nidhi ivůrflid. Immenſe adj. unermelid.
Imagination S. die Eins the im nsenſe ocean, das
bildungsfraft. 2) ein He's unbegrenzte Weltmeer.
griff, Vorſtellung. Imininent 20j. vor Augen
to Imágine V. A. fic in itivebend. an iniminent
Bedanken vorſtellen. It dauger, eine drobende
is 110t to be imagin'd. Beiabr.
Man fann fios nidt Immódera'e 20. unmißig.
denten, einbilden. 2) Immortal Adj. unſterblid.
erfingen , erbenfen. Imrnortálity . die Uns
to Imbárk, embark V. A. ferblid Feit.
N. pinfoiffen.
Immoreable adj.unbemegs
to Imbélliſh V. 4. zieren, lid.
pomiden.
to Impair V. 21. rowdten.
Imbelliſhment S. die zier, to Impárt V. 4. mittheilen.
de, der Sohniuc. Impatience S. die Unges
to Imbitter V. 4. verbits duld.
tern.
Impatient Adj.ungeduldig.
544
Impàtiently Adv. ungeduls Impoſſible adj. unmöglich.
digermeiſe.
Impoſſibly udv. auf eine
to Impede, B. A. hemmen, unmögliche Art.
hindern.aufhalten. Impófior S. ein Betrüger.
Impédiment S. ein Hin- Impófture S. ein Vetruſ.
derniß.
Impréſtion S. der Ein.
to Impél V. a. antreiben. drud. it made a deep
Imperceptible adj. un impreſſion on his heart.
merflich 2) unbegreiflict. Improbable adj. unwahrs
Imperceptibly adv. une robeinlich.
merflicherweiſe. Inpróper adj. unſchidlid,
· Impérfect 401. unvoukom uneigentlich.
men.
to Improve V. 4. beſtern,
Imperfection S. Unvous verbeſſern. 2) V. N. ficts
fommenbeit.
. verbeſſern, zu nehmen.
Impétnous Adj. ungeſlům. to improve in an art,
Impetuófiry S. der Unge. Fortſdritte maden.
phim, die Heftigfeit. Improvement S. das zu.
to Implánt V. 4. einpflans nehmen, Wachstbum,
jen.
Zuwachs.
Implement S. ein Werf: Imprudence S. Unvorſic's
geug.
tigfeit.
Importance S. die Wich. Imprudent Adj. unweiſe,
tigfeit. to be of impor- unbedachtſam, unbenuta
tance, von Bedeutung. ram.
Important 4dj. widtig. Inpuille S. der Antrieb.
to Impoſe V. A. auflegen. In Pråp. in, wird zur Bes
2) on one, jemand bee geidnung von Drt, Zeit
triigent,'
und Zuſtand, durch mens
Impoſſibility S. die uns rere andere Deutſche
möglichkeit.
Prápoſit. úberfekt. in
545
I tr.
the country, auf dem of the weather.
Lande in doing nothing, Inclination S. die Neis
mit Nidts tfun. In the gung, to travel, Luft zu
day time, ben Tage. in reiſen, to work, iu ar
body., dem Leibe nach. beiten.
In all likelihood, aller to Incline V. N. fid seio
Wahrſdeinlidh feit nach. gen, 10ozu geneigt ſeyn.
In Adv. 111. while his hand daber, befitließen.
was in, da er einmal Incloſure auch encloſure
dabey war. to come in, S. die Eingäunung, lims
to get in, bereinfoin dunung.
to Incluide V. 4. eins
to Inable V. 4. fåhis mas roljeffen.
chen.
to Incómmodate V. A bes:
Ináctive Adj. unthätig. Powerlich reyn.
Inadvertently Adv. unacht: Incomprehenſible #dj. ult.
ſamer Weiſe.
begreifidh.
Incapable 40j. unfibis Inconſideracy. S. Unbes
untidrig.
dachtſamfeit (nicht rebr
Incapacity S. Unfähigkeit, gebräudlich.)
untüchtig feit.
Inconſiderate adj. unbeo
Incéllant Adj. unaufbór: ronnen, unberlegt. in-
lic, ununterbrochen. conſiderate behaviour.
Incéllantly udv. unaufhör: Inconſiderately Udv. auf
lidh.
eine unbeſonnene Art.
Inch Š. der zwölfte Tbeil Inconſiderateneſs S. Uns
eines Fußes, ein zoll. beſonnenbeit, Uebereis
four inchies above water. ſung.
Incident. S. ein Zufall, Inconfiftent. adj. einem
Uniſtand.
andern Dinge nidt ges
Inclémency S. Raubbeit. måß, nicht übereinſtims
(35)
546
mig, daber ungereimt. Indeed Adv. in der That,
widerſinnig. inconfiftent wirflid), in Wahrheit.
with reaſon.
2). /war.
Inconſolable adj. untröſta Indefatigable adj. uner:
lic.
müdet. indefatigable in-
Incónfiancy Šo die Unbes dufiry , nnermüdlider
ſtåndig feit. inconftancy Fleiß.
of human heart, Walls Indefátigably udv. auf eis
felmuth des menſchlichent ne unermüdete Art.
Herze118
Independent 20j. unats
Inconvenience, Inconvéni. Hängig.
ency S. Berowerlidh feit Indian Adj. Indianiſo.
Unbequemlidfeit.
S. ein Indianer.
Inconvénient udj. Iaftig, to Indicate V. 4. anzei:
unbequem.
. gen.
Inconveniently udv. auf Indies S. PI. Indien.
eine berdwerliche e låſti- eaſt - weſt Indies, Dite
::ge Art.
Weſtindien.
to Increaſe . N. zunelyIndifferent 40j, gleidgids
men, lid vermehren. 2) tig.
V. 4. vergrößern, vers Indifference S. Gleichgil:
mehren.
tigfeit. a matter of in.
Increaſe S. der Zuwachs, difference, eine gleid,
Verinebruna.
Bültige Sade.
Incrédible Udj. unglaubs Indigence S. Mangel,
Dürftigkeit.
Incrímbrance auc encum- Indigent 901. bedürftig.
brance S. Hinderniß , Indignation S. unwille,
Zwang. freed from their Verdruß. fired with in-
incúmbrance.
dignation, vor Zorn ents
Incurable adj. unbeilbar. brannt.
tid.
547
Indiſpenſable adj. unums Indulgence S. Zürtlio feit,
Dänglich.
2) Nadfidit mit den Feb.
Indiſpenſably Adv. unums forn anderer.
gånglider Weiſe. Indulgene udj. gútig, onde
Indiſpoſed Part. adj. uns dig, nachlichtig. .
påßlid
Indúfirious Yoj. Heißig.
Individual. S. ein einzel- induſtrious life, ein ars
nes Ding ſeiner Art, einbeitſanies Leben.
Individuunn.
Induſtry S. Fleiß, Einſig,
Indolence S. Iragbeit, feit, Unverdroffenbeit.
Faulbeit. .
Inéſtimable adj. uniors
Indolent adj. ſorgloß, bar.
tråge. ; . Inévitable Adj unvermeids
to Indice ». 2. vermos lid.
gen, bewegen, verleiten. Inexhaufiible Udi. uner:
to Indulge V. 4. nadges Schopflim.
bon. to indulge his gra. Inexperience S. die uns
titude, feiner Danfbars erfalrenheit.
feit freyen Lauf laſſen. Inexperienced Adj. uner:
to indulge himſelf, fich fahren.
dem Wobleben überlaſe Inexpréſfible Udi. unaus.
ren, fic verwohnen, he ſpredlid. with inex-
indulged himſelf ſo far prellible joy mit unbe.
as , er that fic fo førriblicher Freude.
gútlich. to indulge a Infállible Udj. unfehlbar,
thought, einem Gedans untrüglid.
fen nadbangen., to in. Infancy S. die stindbeit.
dulge his joy reiner Infant Udi., jugendlid,
Freude frepen Lauf lafs jung.
ren. ſich derſelben übers to Inféct V. A. anſteden,
laſſen.
the air, die Luft verpe.
WA
548
ften, vergifteit.'
biervon war ic benach:
to Infèeble, enfeeble ». ridrigt. .
4. rohmåden. . to Infringe V. 4. Gereke
to Infér V. 4. foließen. brechen, verletzen.
Infèriour Adj. niedriger to Infiſe V. . ein floßen,
Der Stelle, der Würde eingeben.
und ganzen Beſchaffen: Ingenuity S. Edarfſinn,
beit nach. he was infe- 2) Offenherzigkeit.
riour to him in know- Ingratitude S. die Una
ledge. Er fam ibn an dankbarkeit. .
Kténntniſſen nicht gleich, to Inhábit V. 4. bemons
ſtand unter ilmin Kennt: fen. if the island was
miſſen.
inhabited.
Inferiour. S. ein Unter: Inhábitant S. ein Einwobe
gebener.
ner. .
Infidélity S. Untreue , Inhuman 20j. unnende
Ereulofiofeit.
lid, grauſam, barbas
Infinite Adj. unendlich. riro.
Infinitely Adv. in einem Inhumanity S. Grauſam-
fehr hohen Grade , ut feit, unmenſolidfeit ,
endrid. infinitely more Barbarev.
wile, unendlich weifer. Initial Adj. anfänglid,
Infirmity. S. Schwader urſpringlich.inilial ideas.
Korånflido feit.
Elementar: Begriffe.
Inflámed Port entflammt. Injury S. Unredt, Ben
angefeurt, erbißt.
leidinusa.
Influence S. Einfluß. Ink S. die Dinte.
to Infórm $. 4. of a to Inliſt, enliſt Þ. 4. zu
thing. Nadricht von ets Striegedienſten annebs
was ertheilen. of this I men, he got himſelf in-
was alſo informed, que lifted, Er ließ fic an-
549
Werben, enrolliren. lid.
Inmoft Subſt. 098 Inner's Inſenſibility S. Unem
fte. from the inmoſt of pfindlichkeit.
his heart, aus dem Ins Inſenſibly Adv. unmerflid.
nerften feines Herzens. to Inſert V. A. einſdal:
adj. with inmoſt plea- ten. .
fure, mit innerlidem Inſide S. die innere Seite.
Vergnügen.
the inſide of the wall ,
Innate adj. angebobren. 2) 098 Eingeweide.
laner 40j. inver, inwens Inſignificant adj. unbe:
dig. . .
deutend.
Innocence S. die uns Inſípid udj. geſchmadlos.
fould.
Inſólvent Adj. unfibig,
Innocent adj. unſchuldig. reine Schulden ou bes
Innoxious Adj. unſddds sablen, inſolvent, *
lid.
to Inſpire V. A. ein:
Innumerable adj. unzibl: fößen.
Bar.
Infiance' S. dringendes
Innumerous Adj. ungablo Bitten. 2) ein Beyſpiel ;
bar:
for infiance, jum Bep.
to Inóculate V. 4. Ocus ſpiel.
lieren.
Inſtant Adj. augenblidlids.
to Inquire, enquire V. A. Inſtant S. ein Augenblic.
nad erwas fragen, ſich Inſtantly Adv. Pogleich.
erfundigen.
Inftéad Pråp. anstatt (mit
Inquiry S. die Erfundis of.)
gunin.
to Inftill V. A. einfóßen.
Inſcription S. eine. Ino Inftitution S. eine Eins
.chrift, Aufſchrift.
richtung.
Infect S. ein Infect. to Inftrúct V. 4. unters
Inſenſible adj. unempfind ridten, unterweiſen. he
550
laſſen.
did not like to be in- Kimmel für ihn bits
Structed, er mogte fid ten.
nicht gern unterrichten Intereli S. der Vortheil,
. das Beſte.
Inſiruction S. UnterrichtInterefing. udj. interef=
fehren. 2) Porrorift. rant.
Inſtructive Udj. unterrich: Interin. S. In the In-
tind, belebrend. an in- irim 1) unterdeſſen. 2)
ſtructive converſation, einſtweilen...
ein belebrendes Ges Intermediate adj. [pace,
fprach.
der Zwiſdenraum.
Inſtructor S. der febrer. Intermillion S. das Auf:
Inſtrument S. Das Werf: boren, Unterlaß, un:
feug. . . . terbredung.. without
Inſtrumental Adj. bebülf: any intermiſſion , un
lich, mitwirfend. aufhörlic. .
Inſupportable unerträglic. to Interpoſe V. A. fich ins
Intélligible adj. verſtande Mittel ſchlagen.
lich, begreiflich. Intérpreter S. der Dolls
to Inténd V. A. vorhaben. metſder.
to intend a work, im toInterrupt D. H. unterbre,
Sinne baben, willen doen.
reyn. to intend come Interview S. eine linter-
miſchief to one, etwas redung.
Böres gegen jemand im Interweave . 4. durch:
Sinne baben.
flechten. which he in-
Inténtion S. die Ablidt, terwove with branches.
das Vorhaben. Intimate adj. vertraut. .
'to Intercède V. N. Ver: to Intimate V. 2. andeur
mittler ſeyn. – to with ten. The intimated by
Heaven for him. Den figns, fie gab vurd. Zei:
.
den zu verſteben.
bung-
Litire dj. Balla, unges Inventor: 7. Inventer. .
Tbeilt.
Inventory S. ein Vers
Intirely udv. gänzlich. Beichniß.
Intitle entitle. to V. 4. béo Inveſtigation. 5. Erfors
redtigen.
foung, Unterſuchung.
Into Prop. in, auf die Inviſible Adj. unſichtbar.
Frage wonin?
Invitation S. die Einla-
Intolerable Udj. unertrags dung.
| ti. .
to Invite V. 4. einladen.
Intolerably adv. unertrago Inward adj. innerlich.
liderweiſe.
Invólve V. U. verwideln,
Intrèaty S. P. entreaty. in difficulties.
Intrinſick Adj. innerlid. Iron S. Eiſen, Plur. die
the intrinſick value, der Ferfeln. to be put in
innere Werth.
irons, in Feffeln gelegt
to Introduce V. U. eins werden.
fübren in einen Ort, Iron adj. von Eiſen, ris
2) redend einführen. rern.
to Intrift V. 4. anvers Iron bar S. eine eiſerne
trauen.
Stange.
Inundation S. die Hebere Irrégular Adj. ohne Drds
rowemmung. : nung, wordentlich.
to Invade V. 4. feindlid Irrefifiible Udi, unwider.
anfallen, the iſland was feblich.
invaded', angegriffen, Irréſolute Udi. unents
überfallen.
foloffen.
Inváluable adj. unfodobar. . 3 Perp. Singl. Prár.
to Invent ». 4. erfinden. · von to be.
Inventer S. der Erfinder. Island (iv. eilaend) So
Invéncion S. die Erfin: die Inſel.
552
inue S. der Ausgang, ít Pronom. es.
das Ende.
Itſelf Pron. recipr, --- felbft.
to iſſue' V. N. berguage: impoſſible in itſelf, an
hen, berauslaufen, ber- fiď ſelbſt unmöglich, abs
vorſtromen. a burning ſolut unmöglich.
matter iſſued.
Ivory 6. Elfenbein.
J. Der Conſonant.
Jáck S. Jatob.
Spaß geweſen.
Jácket S. pin Wammes , Journey S. die Reiſe,
eine Jace.
{agreiſe. 2) eine Reiſe
Jánuary S. der Januar. Ju Lande (voyage ben
Japaneſe S. ein Japaner. deutet eine Reiſe zur
Jaws S. Pl. der Rachen. See.)
Jenny S. Hanndjen. Jóy S. die Freude.
eine Juwele
lich.
Jólin S. Johannes Jóyfully udv. frob, vers
to Jóin V: A. binzufügen. gnügt.
2) verbinden, vereini: Judge S. der Nichter. .
gen. 3) V. n. fich trefs to Judge . 4. N. urs
fen mit jemand , to join theilen, entſcheiden. 2)
his maſter, ihn einbo. beurtbeilen.
len 3) fic verbinden. Judgement S. das Ge:
To join in another's ridti vorzüglich das gött:
work, arbeiten helfen lice Gerichte 2) Heberles
Joiner S. ein Tiſdler. gung, Urtheil. a ſound
Joking 6. das Scherzen. judgement.
there would have been Jing S. ein Strug. an ear.
no joking, Es wäre fein then jug. ein irdener
553
· Waſſerfrug.
Juſt Adv. genau , eben.
Juiggler S. ein Taiden: Juſt as, eben als. Juli
ſpieler, liftiger Betrus now, eben jeßt, grade.
ger.
Juſtice S. die Geregtigs
Juice (ſp. ſchuus) S. der feit. to do jutiíce, Ges
Saft aus Gewedren. rectigfeit miederfahren
Juicy Adj. faftig.
laſſen. 2) die Juſtige
July S. der Monat Jus officers of juſtice , OP
lius.
ridtsdienser.
to Jump Ý. N. ſpringen, Juífily Adv. gerecht. Thou
búipfen.
dealeſt juſtly with me,
Jump S. ein Sprung. du bandelft geredt mit
June S. der' Monat Ju: mir.
mius.
to Juít V. N. hervorragen,
Juſt 2001. gerecht, 2) ors hervorſtehen. a fione jut-
dentlid.
ting out etc.
.
K
to Keep V. A. baltert. to rchluſſe beharren. to keep
keep pace, Scritt fald at a place, irgendwo
ten ; bebalten ; unters fteben bleiben. It would
balten. to keep a fire ; keep good, es würde
erhalten. to keep from, fich halten. to keep cloſe
abholteni, verwalren vor to a thing, ſich auss
etwas. to keep up, er: rdließlich mit etwas bes
balten, unterbalten. V. caftigen.
N. to keep near the Keeping S. der Verwahr.
ſhore, fid nabe am Ufer Képt Imp. 4.. Part. v.
halten. to keep to a re- to keep.
olution, bey einem Elits Kérnel S. der Stern der
554
Frichte.
reide, freundliche Art.
Key (ſv.Kih) Sein Schlüſs Kindneſs S. Gútigfeit.
rel, aud figúrſ. this is the Woolwollen, Gefällige
key of that conduct, der feit.
Aufſchluß über dieß Bes King S. der Stónig.
tragen, der solufelgu Kingdom S. das Stånin,
dieſem Betragen.
reich.
to Kick V. A. mit dem to Kils: V. X. füſten.
Fuße ftoßen.
Kiſs S. der Stuß.
Kick S. ein Stoß mit dem Kitchen . die Striche.
Fuße.
Knáck 5. der Handgriff.
Kíd S. Das Junge einer
the right knack, der
Ziege.
watre flunſgriff
to Kill V. U. tódten. 2)
ſchlachten.
to Knead V. 4. fndten.
Kílu S. ein Ofen. a lime-
Knèe S. das Stuie. He fell
kiln , Stalfofert.
on his knees.
Kind S. das Geſchlecht.
to kneel V. 4. niederfnien.
mankind, das menſch
Knew Imp. von to know.
lidhe Gerdylecht. 2) die
Knife S. das Meffer.
Urt, Gattuna. a kind Knob. S. der Sinollen,
of fruit 3) die Art und Wurzelknollen.
Weiſe. In that kind , to Kouck V. 4. rolagen.
auf dieſe Art.
to knock down, au Boo
Kind Adj. liebreich, freunds den rolagell.
lid, gútig.
Knót S. der Kinoten.
to Kindle V. N. anzünden. to Know V. 4. N. wiſs
Kindly Adj. milde. a kind- ren ,. 2) fennent.
ly beam , 'ein milder Knowledge S. die Stennt:
Strahl.
niß. a great ftock of
Kindly 20j. auf eine liebe knowledge, viel Stents
555
niſſe. 2) Willen. without Known Part. y.to know.
the knowledge of your Knuckle . der Sindchel.
parents , ohne Wiſſen Kracking ſ. Cracking das
Eurer Heltern.
Straden.
Laborious Adj. arbeitſam. Frauenzimmer, eine
Laboriousneſs 5. die Ar: Dume.
beitſamfeit.
Laid Part. v. to lay.
Labour S. die Arbeit. ' Lain Part. 3. to lye.
to Labour V. N. 4. ar. Låke S. ein See.
beitet.
' Lama S. ein Lama, Sdaaf-
Labourer S. ein Arbeits: fameel.
mann, Togelibner. to Laménı V. N. 4. fla.
Lace Š. die Sonur. 2) gen, beflanen.
die Solinge.
Lamentable Adj. fláglid.
to Làce . X. fanúren, lamentable looks, voice.
furonúren.
Lámentably Udv. auf eine
Laced adj. mit Treſen jämmerliche, flåglide
beſest. a laced hat, ein Weiſe.
Treffenbut.
Lamentation S. Weblla:
Lád S. der finale. my se, Winrein.
Jad, mein lieber Junge! Lámp. S. eine Lampe.
2) ein Jüngling, junger Lánce S. eine Lange.
Monro.
Lánd S. das Land, das
Ladder S. die Leiter. a fefte Land.
ropeladder, eine Strids to Lánd. V. n. landen,
leiter.
. an Land geben.
Låden Part. beladen. Landing S. das Landen.
Lady S. ein vornehmes Language S, die Spradla
556
his own language, reine Láva S. die Lava.
Mutterſprade. Landable adj. (obenemůro
to Lánguiſh V. N. ſchmach: dig, růlmlich.
ten.
to Lavigh (ſp. laf) V. N.
Lánthorn, Lantern S.* lachen, at, über etwas.
eine Laterne.
Laughter (ſp. lafter) S.
Lárge Udie groß (vezeich das Gelddhter.
net meit bit but bet • toLaunch (fp. to lauth) 23.
nung nach auen Seiten.) 4. von Stapel laffen.
Láſi 901. sept. laſt night, to launch a veſel.
ani vorigen Abend. at Làw S. das Geſek. the
laft, zulegt, endlid. laws of wrack and fal.
Laſt Udv. neulid, vor vage, das Strandrecht.
furiem.
Lawful Adj. recimasis.
to Lált V. . dauern. Lày Imp. v. to lie, ich
Lálily 40v. julegt. 2) vor lag.
furởº mỏ neutic. to Lay 23. 2. (egen. to lay
Låte udj. ebmablig. 2) hold, sand an etwas
neulid. his late misfor- legen, ergreifen. to lay
tune, rein neulides Une in proviſions for the
glid. -
winter, Vorrath auf den
Laie Adr. ſpåt. 2) por Winter zuriidlegen.
furzem, aud of late. Láy S. ein lird, a more
Litely Adv. vor kurzem, ning lay.
neulid. it was but la. Layer S. eine Smidt,
tely, erſt ſeit Eurzem. eine Lage. 2) a brick-
Láth S. die Latte.
layer, ein Maurer.
Lálin Udi. lateinifd. the Lazineſs Si Trågheit. ·
* latin tongue, die latei: Lazy udj. faul, tråge.
nilde Sprade. . to Lead V. 4. leiten,
Lácter Conipar. von late, fübren. to lead a ſpring,
557
eine Quelle berleiten. Lèaft udv. am wenigſten.
Leader S. ein Lehrer, Uno at lealt, wenigſtens, zum
fúbrer.
mindeſten.
Leaf S. ein Blatt. he Leather S. das Leder.
trembled like an aſpen Lćathern udj. ledern. a
leaf, er zitterte wie des leathern glove, ein lea
ſpenſaugi
derner Handduh.
League S. eine Meile. Leave S. Erlaubniß: with-
Lèak S. ein Kiß. The hout their leave, 2) der
ſhip has ſprung a leak, Abſchied. take his leave
das Shiffbat einen Led to Leave V. 4. Fasten,
befommen.
. verlaffen. 2) aufhören,
to Lian V. N. lehnen auch to leave off.
to lean his back,den Rie: Léaven S. der Sauerteig.
ten anlehnen. 2) fid Leaves Plur. 3. leaf, die
ſtúden.
Blatter.
to Leap V. N. büpfen, Léd Imp. V. to lead.
ſpringen.
Léft Imp. 4. Part. . to
Leap S. der Sprung. leave.
to Learn Þ. 4. N. lernen. Léft adj. fint. the left
2) erfahren, erreben. hand, die linke Hand.
Learning S. 098 Lernen, Lég E. der Scenfel,
- diligent in learning, 2) das Bein úberhaupt..
die Gelebrſamfeit. he Légged Adj. two legged,
applied to learning, Er zweybeinigt.
wollte ein Gelehrter wer: Lègion S. eine Legion,
den, legte fid) auf die eigentlid 5000 Mann,
Wifenſchaften.
berhaupt jede große
Lealt Sup. pon little, der Soaar.
die , 098 Seleinſte. 2) Leiſure (einige ſpreden
geringfter the leaft noiſe. léshur andere Aſchur)
558
S. Muße. in leiſure ie, deſto weniger.
hours, in frenen Stune to Léllen V. 2. verfleis
den; 2) Gemåolidfeit. nern, mindern, kleiner
at his leiſure. , maden. 2) V: N. flei,
Lémon S: dil Citrone. ner werden.
Lémon-juice Sitronenſaft. Léllon S. eine Lection.
Lémon-tree S. der Ci: In your geographical
tronenbaum
leſſons, beym Unterricht
to Lénd V. 4. Teiben. to in der Erdberdreibung.
lend money , Geld vor: 2) eine Regel des Vers
foießen, vorfireden. 2) balteng. He gave him
to lend affiftance, Hiilo many good leſſons into
fe, Beyftand leiſten. the bargain, er gab ihm
Léngth S. die finge. at noch manche gute Lebren
full length, der Långe in den Kauf.
nadh, ausgeſtredt. 2) Left Conjunction, damit
Dauer. the months are · nicht. lelt he fall, daß
not all of equal length, er nicht falle.
die Monatbe ſind nicht to Lét Þ. 4. laffen. Let
alle gleich lang. 3) at us fit down. Let us have
lenght, endlich, julebt. it all. · In dieſen und
to Léngthen V. 4. låns onliden Redensarten
ger machen, verlängern, bezeichnet es eine Aufs
ausdehnen.
munterung und dient
Lént Imp. 4. Part. yon dazu, den Imperativ zu
to lend , the money he maden. 2) zulaſenie zus
had lent him.
geven. my parent will
Léſs der Comp. 0. little. not let me go, werden
Adj. fleiner, geringer. mich nicht geben laſſen.
Léľs udv. in einem gerin- Létter S. pin Brief.
gern Grade, the leſs, Léttuce (ru. Lettüs) S.
559
teis.
Lattic, Salat. Life S. Das Leben. for
Lével Adj. eben, gleich. his life, für rein Leben
Lével S. ein Richtſcheit gern, ſo lieb er das Les
der Maurer.
ben hatte. the life to
to Lével V. 4. eben mas come , das fünftige,
den. 2) to level a can-
non, eine Canone rids Lifeleſs udj. eblos.
ten.
to Lift V. A. beben, auf:
Léven , leaven S. Sauer: Deben, erheben.
Ligature S. Band, Vera
Léver S. ein Hebel, He: bindung.
bebaum.
Light adj. leicht.
Lévity S. Leichtigkeit, 2) Light Adj. belle, lidt.
Pridtſinn.
Light S. das Licht. the
Liable adj. unterworfen; day - light.
ausgeregt. liable to be to Light D. A. anziinden.
ſpoiled; mas verderben a fire, a candle.
fann.
to Lighten P. N. bligento
Liar S. pin Lügner. wetterleuchten.
Liberal Adj. the libere to Lighten V. A. erleid.
al arts, die freyen Künſte. tern. in order to ligh-
Liberty S. die Freibeit. ten the Chip, um es
to ſet at liberty, in leichter zu machen. ents
Freibeit leben. liberty laden.
of conſcience Dent: Lightening S. das Bligen
Glaubensfreibeit. der Blitz. a flaſh of
Library. S. die Bibijo: ligthtening, ein Blik:
tber
ftrabl.
to Lick V. 4. leden. Like udi. åbnlich gleich.
Liè S. die Lauge.
like this Cruſoe, ro wie
to Lie liegen P. Ly. dieſer C. like our Elbe.
560
The like of which he Er hatte feine Luſt dazu.
had never heard, dera Límb S. da. Glied.
gleiden er nog nie ges Lime S. der Stall, ſlaked
bört batte, and the like, lime, geldroter Kalf.
und dergleichen und ru Lime- kiln S. ein Staffs
weiter. 2) mit he und Ofen.
have, biennabe. he was - Lime - fione S. ein Kalf-
· had like to - -, et mis pein.
re, båtte beynabe. to Límit Þ. ¥. begrán:
Like udv. auf eben dies gen. he limits grief , er
pelbe Art, me gledwie. reßt dem Summer reint
to Like V. A. Gefallen an Ziel.
etwas finden. I like to Limitation S.Die Gränze.
ſee it, ich rebe es gern, Límon, Lemon S. eine
etwas fpiden mageri. I Citrone.
don't like this R. How Line S. eine Linie. 2)
do you like the bath, eine Sonur. 3) die li:
wie gefällt dir das Bad. nie, der Aequator...
I ſhould like , id Línen , Linnen Adj. lei,
wünſchte.
nen. S. die Leinmand.
Likelilood (Likelyhood) clean linnen, reine Wis
S. Die Wahrſcheinlich robe.
feit. in all likelihood, Línen - weaver ein Leina
aller Babrrdeinlidofeit weber.
nach.
Líne - ſeed, beffer Linſeed
Likely AD. . Adv. wabr: S. Leinſamen.
ſcheinlich.
Lion S. der Lowe.
Likewiſe udv. auf glei: Líp $. die Lippe.
de Weiſe, ebenfalls. Liquor (ppr. likkör) S.
Liking S. die Neigung gebrannte, abgezogene
- he had no liking to it, Waſſer. ftrong liquors,
561
bißige, geiſtige Ges honeſt livelyhood , lic
tränte.
ehrlich, redlich ernábren.
Liſbon S. fiffabon in Por: Livelineſs S. Lebhaftig
tugall.
Feit, Munterfeit.
to Líften V. N. horchen, Lively adj. febbaft, muns
zuhören (mit to.) . ter.
Líterally Udv. budofteblich. Lively adv. auf eine lebe
Líterary adj. zur Gelebra bafte, muntere Art.
ſamkeitgebårig, gelehrt. imagination:
Literary elements. gelebrs Lives Plur. v. life, das
te Vorfenntniffe.
Leben.
Little 910j. flein. little Living Part. a living cre-
folks, junge feute, Stins ature, ein lebendiges Ges
der. 2) menis.
roopf. 2) Subſt. Die leo
Líttle Udv. wenig. by bendigen.
little and little, nad Líving S. das Leben. 2)
und nach. He little des Lebensunterhalt.
thought, Er dachte an Lò! Interj. fiebe!
nichts meniger, als daß?c. Load S. eine Bürde, Laſte
to Live V. N. leben. 2) Tradt.
wohnen. where Mr. CI. to Load V. 4. beladen. 2)
lives. 3) to live on, a gun, ein Gewehr la:
upon a thing, fico mos den.
von nåfren, wovon les Loading S. die Ladung, .
ben. 4) áls V. 4. durch. Lart. there was no ſhip
leben. He lived three in loading. Es lag fein
whole years, one day Soiff in Ladung.
like the other -- Load - ftone S. der Maga
Livelihood, Livelyhood met.
S. der Unterhalt das Loaf S. ein Brod.
Husfommen. to get an Loath (ſp. wie lang o)
(36)
562
20j. abgeneigt.
zen, mißis geben. He
to Loath V. 4. N. Edel was loitering about the
empfinden. You loath a port.
meat, ein Geridt edelt Loneſome Adj. einſam eins
euc. an. :
ſiedleriſch.
Loathſome adj. edelhaft, Lóng Adj. u. udv. lang
abſcheulich.
von der Ausdehnung.
Loàves Plur. von Loaf. 2) lang, von der Zeit.
Lóck S. ein Solob. a long while , long
to Lóck V. 4. versoliero fince, lange ſchon.
ren. to lock up, eins to Lóng V. N. verlangen.
robhlieffen, zuſchlieffen. I long, mid verlangt.
to Lodge V. 4. beberbere ſich ſehnen - mit for
gen. 2) V. N. an einem und after – he longed
Drte reyn. where the for reft , er reynte fich
heart is lodged, wo das nach Kube he longed for
Herz fikt.
new ſcenes, es verlanga
Lodging S. die Wohnung, te ihni nad neuen Yufs
: 2) der Uufenthalt. 3) tritten.
das Nachtlager. his firſt Lónging S. die Seuns
night's lodging.
fucht, das Verlangen.
Lófty. Adj. boch. a lofty Lónging adj. Part. lon-
mountain.
ging eyes, (dmadtende
Lóg-wood S. Campede: Äugen.
borze eine Art Fårbeholg to Look V. N. (chauen,
aus dem ſüdligen Ames um zu ſehen. Wenn der
rica. Logwood tree. Gegenſtand nahe iſt, ro
Loin das Lenden oder braust man on oder at;
Nierenſtůd eines ges iſt er abweſend, for ;
fchlachteten Ihiers. und wenn er entfernt
to Loiter v. N. faullen iſt, after; in dieſen beya,
563
thunder
im
clouds the
den lebten Fällen fann to Love V. X. lieben.
man das Verbum aud Lóve S. die Liebe.
duro fu den überſegen. Loving Part. liebreich.
we were looking for Low (ſp. loh) udj. und
fine pebbles, wir ſuos adv. niedrig. 2) niot
ten bubre Steinden.' tief. low water, die
2) It looks ſo hne, es Ebbe, .3) untere, the
fiebt ro roon aus. lower part.
Look Interj. ſiebe! rebt to Lowr, (p. lau'r) lour,
da, eigentlidy der Ima lower. V. N. trübe,
perat. pon to look. dunkel repn. thunder
Look S. ein Blic. 2) im clouds that lowr, fintre
Plur. Minen, Gebehr. Donnerwolfen..
den.
Lúck S. ein Zufall, good
Looking - glaſs S. ein luck , ein Glúdsfall,
Spiegel.
Glück.
Loom S. ein Weberſtubl. Luckily Adv. glüdlicher
Loole S. Freibeit.
Weiſe.
Looſe Adj. 108.
Lúcky udj. gledlich.
to Looſen V. U. offnen, to Lúll V. A. N. in den
losmaden, auflöſen. Solaf fingen. who lul.
Lord S. der Oberberr, led my mind I wer bes
Herr.
rubigte mein Gemüth.
to Löfe V. 4. verliebren. Lump S. pin Slumpen.
Lófs S. der Verluſt. 2) lump of gold, ein Golds
to be at a loſs, verres 'flumpen.
gen regn.
to Lurk, V. N. verborgen
Loft Part. 1. Imp. von liegen, lauern to lurk
to loſe.
in the dark. im Finſtern
Loud Adj. laut.
foreiden. :
to Lour f. to lower. Luſtre S. ein Soimmer,
564
Glang.
Luxuriance , Luxuriancy
S. Ueberfluß, Lurus.
Luxuriantly udv. üppig
wadſend.
Luxurious adj. ſchwelges
riſch, lppig.
Liixury S. Heppigfeit,
Schweigeren.
to Ly, Lie V. N. liegen.
M
:
Mád udj. wahnſinnig. Stónigen und Saiſern
Made Part. 4. Imp von gewöhnlide Titel. His
to make.
majeſty, Seine Majes
Mád - man S. ein Raſens ftat.
der, ein Doller. Main dj. das vornehms
Magazine (ſpr.'Maggafihn) fte, größte. the main
S. ein Vorrathsbaus, ſea, das bobe Meer.
Managin.
Main S. das feſte Land,
Magnanimous udj. groß, aud the main land.
müthig.
Main maſt der größte
Magnétic Adj. the magne. Maft, der Mittelmaſt.
tic needle, bie Ragnet: to Maintain 9. 9 era[s
nadel.
ten, unterhalten.
Magnificent Adi. prachtig. Maize (ipr. Mähs) S.
Máid S. die Magd. a türkiſd Storn, túrtiſder
dairy maid, eine Milds Weißen.
magd. a maid ſervant, Make V u machen. to
Pine Dienſtmagd. make halte , vilen. to
Majelick Adj. majeftås make his prayers, beteit.
tiſd).
to make a journey. pine
Majeſty S. die höchſte Reiſe thuit. to make his
Würde und Große, die eſcape, fid davon mai
Majeſtát. 2) der den den. to make all fails ,
565
alle Segel aufziehen. to theyfchiff) a man of war,
make ſhipwreck, Sdiffs ein Striegsrdiff.
brud leiden. 2) to make to-Mánage V. A. fübren.
bedeutet in der Sees to manage a boat, 88
fahrt, zu einem Orte (enfen, regieren.
fomment. They made the Management S. die Ber
mouth of the Thames, arbeitung. the manage-
fie erreichten die Mün: ment of the fields.
dung der Themſe. to Man-cater ein Menidens
make the neareſt land, freffer,
das nächſte Land erreis to Mángle P. A. Czerreiſs
der to make the ſhore. Pen, gerfleiſdyen) vers
3) laſten. He made him ſtimmeln.
ſuffer, er ließ ibn lei: Manifold Adj. mannigfalo
den. 4) ». N. to make tig vielfach.
up to one, auf jemand Mankind S. das inenfos
zugehen. to make up to liche Geldledt. all man-
a ſhip, auf ein Soiff kind, das ganze Mens
guſteuern, auch to make idengeſchlecht.
towards a Chip. Mánly adj. inannlid. he
Making S. das Machen. behaved manly, er bes
an umbrella of his own trug fidh männlic. the
making, ein von ihm felbft manly reſolution.
verfertigter Schirm. Manner S. die Art, Weis
Malícious adj. boshaft. ſe. in the ſame manner,
Mállet S. ein Solågel. in ſuch a manner, ders
Mán S. der Menſch , 2) geſtalt.
eine Mannsperſon, ein Mány Adj. viel.
Mann. 3) ein Soiff. Mány S. eine Angabi,
a merchant - man, ein Menge a great many
Kauffabrer. (Stauffar's of them, ibrer viele.
566
Many • times Adv. oft, Máls S. die mane. to ftir
mehrmals.
the mals, die Maſſe
Máp S. eine Landkarte., umrühren.
Seefarte (legtere auc Máſt S. der Maſtbaum.
Sea - map.)
Máſter S. der Herr. her
Márch S. der Marſo. maſter and miſtreſs ,
to Márch V. N. marſdies ihre Herrſchafft. 2) der
ren. to march off. Meiſter 3) der Captain
Márch (das ar in dieſem eines Stauffahrers.
und den folgenden Wors to Máſter V. A. fich be-
tern lautet wie im'Deut: meiſtern einer Sache, 2)
rchen.) S. der Mårzi110s beberrſchen.
nat.
Mát S. eine Matte. baſs
Marínes (ſp. Marihns) S. mat, Matten von Baft,
. ein Seemann, Matroſe. Baſtmatten.
to Márk V. 4. zeidnen ,, Mátch S. ein Schwefels
bezeiconen.
holzdhen, Sowefelfaden,
Márk S. ein Zeichen. 2) eine Lunte. he clapt
Márket S. der Martt, the burning match to
Marktplaß.
the touchhole , brachte
Marmótto (auch Marmót) die brennende kunte aus
S. ein Murmelthier. Zindlod), Er rolug auf.
Martial adj. friegeriſch'; 3) der Dadt in einer
mariial exerciſes.
Lampe.
„Marvellous adj. wunder: Mátch S. ein Wettftreit.
bar, erſtaunlic. to Match V. 4. gleich ſeyn.
Máſh S die Marde (rid: to match one in ſwim-
tiger Melh.)
ming , Jemanden ini
Márk S. eine Maste. Schwimmen beyfon:
Maſon (ru. Mehl'on) S. men.
ein Maurer,
Mate Sider Steuermann1.
567
the firſt mate, Obers Máxim S. ein Grundraß.
fteuermann.
I May. pin defectives Auri:
Material adj. wefentlid. liarverbum.) ich mag.
Metèrials S. Plur. Ma: 2) id fann (in Bezie-
terialien. materials for bung auf einen vorbers
writing, Schreibmates gebenden Ratb, Wunſo,
rialien.
Erlaubniß) Freibeit und
Máthew S. Mathias Vermogen etmad zu thun.
(Matthäus.)
You may begin , ibc
Mátraſs oder Mattreſs S. fónnt anfangen. You may
eine Matrazge.
eaſily think. may be,
Mátter S. die Materie. (nemlid it). vielleidt.
the melted matter, die 3) ato Hülfsmort den
geſchmolzene Maſie. 2) Conjunctiv zu bilden;
der Gegenſtand. on this It was probable there
matter, über dieſe Mas might be more good
terie. what's the mat- children. 4) einen
ter, was giebts ? he Wunſo auszudrůden.
made it a matter of Mày S. der Maymonath.
conſcience, er madote Mè Pron. (von I.) mir,
fidis zur Gewiſſensſa: mio.
che. it is no matter Meal S. ein Mahl, eine
of doubt, es iſt nicht Mallzeit.
zweifelhaft. what was Mèan. Adj. geringe , nies
the matter with him, drig.
wie es mit ibm fånde, Mèan S. das Mittel, (ne.
wie es ihm ginge, was wolnlid im prur., 00,
ihm feble.
gleich das Pronom im
Maturely Adv. reiflic. ma Singl. febt.) By this.-
ture!y conſidered , reif- means, by that means ,
lid überdacht, überlegt. auf dieſe, jene Yrt. by
I
568
all means, vor allen Dins proper medicines, durd
gen., by no means, durdis gehörige Arzneymittel.
aus nicht. by means of, Meditation S. das Nacho
vermittelſt.
finnen, die Betradtung.
to Mèan Þ. ¥. meynen. Meekneſs S. Sanftmutb.
what do 'yon mean, was to Meet V. #. antreffen.
meynt, denft ibr. 2) to meet one, als V. N.
im Sinne baben.
mit with. He met with
Meaning S. die Meinung one of his comrades.
der Sinn. what's the Er begegnete einem reis
meaning of that? was nerCammeraden. to meet
will das Panen? 2) die an adventure, auf ein
Abſicht, Gefinitung. Abendtheuer ftoßen.
Méafure S. das Maaß. Meeting S. das Zuſamo
in ſome meaſure, ges menfommen der Vers
wiſſermaßen, einigers fammlung.
maßen. 2) – Plur. Maßs Mélancholy udj. traurig,
regeln. to take his mea ſchwermútbig.
ſures.
to Mélt V. 4. romerzen,
Meat S. Fleiſch – (ros fuißig werden. melted
fern es zur Speiſe bes matter, seromolzene
ſtimmt iſt.) roaſt - meat, Materie
- ein Braten. 2) eine Member S. das Glied.
jede Speiſe.
2) Mitglied.
Mechánick 401. mechas Mémorable udj. merkwürs
miſch. S. ein Mechanis dig.
fus, Handwerker, Hands Memorial S. ein Dent:
arbeiter.
mal.
Médicine (ſp. Méd.di-libn) Mémory S. das Gedächt:
in 3 Sylben. S. eine niß. 2) das Anderifen.
Arzney, Medicin. by Mén plur. von man.
569
to Ménd P. A. bestern lich.
beſſer machen. 2) P.N. Mérry 9d;. fröhlid, lis
beſſer werden, ſich beſo ftig, aufgeräumt. 2)
fern.
furiweilig.
Mental Adj. zum Verftan- Méſlenger S. ein Bothe.
de Behörig. mental fa- Mét Imp. v. to meet.
culties , GeiſtesFråfte. Métal (ſp. mett'l) S. Mes
to Méntion V. 4. Nacha tall.
richt von etwas geben, Méthod S. die Methode,
melden. above mentioa Ordnunge
ned, oben erwähnt. Méxican S. ein Merifas
Mérchant (ſp.Mér tſchent) ner.
nicht mar - S. ein Middle Adj. in der Mitte
Staufmann.
befindlid, mittel.
Mérchant - man S. ein Middle S. die Mitte, der
Stauffahrer, ein Hans mittlere Theil.
delbrobiff
Mídge S. die Múde.
Mérciful Adj. gnädig, Míd-night S. die Mits
barmherzig.
ternadt.
Mércy S. Gnade, Barm- Mídft S. die Mitte. In
berzigkeit. Heaven have the midſt of – mitten
mercy upon us, der in.
Himmel rey und gnadig! Might Imp von I may.
Mère Adj. dies und nichts Might S. die Macht, Ges
anders, blos. mere good walt, Stárfe, with all
neſs , lauter Gunde. might, aus allen Strafe
Merely you. blos und als ten. .
lein.
Mighty Adj. madrig, ſtarf.
Mérit S. das Verdienſte Mild udj. milde, lieblich.
to Merit V. A. verdienen. 2) ſanft. with a mild
Meritorious Adj.verdienft: voice, init ſanfter, lies,
570
reider Stimme.
danken.
Mildly Adv. auf eine ranfs to Mind V. 4. auf etwas
te, milde Art.
merfen, beobachten. to
Mildneſs S. die Milde, mind his way, Ucht ges
Sanftmuthy.
ben auf den Weg, mind
Military adj. militäriſch. me! bört mir zu, gebt
the military life, das Udytung ! 2) fidh befů m-
Soldateníeben, der Sole mern um etwas, Rúds
datenſtand.
ſicht auf etmas nehmen.
Mílk S. die Milch. to mind his own plea-
to Mílk V. A. nelfen. fure only, blos auf rein
Mill S. die Mühle. the eignes Vergnügen bes
wind- mill, a handmill. dacht reyni - Never
Miller S. der Müller, the mind ! dadt midts !
miller's boy, der Müls immerhin ! Meinetwe:
lerenecht.
gen!
Million S. eine Million, Mindful adj. eingedenf.
jede. große Zahl.
2) aufmerkſam.
Mind e. das Gemůth, Mine Pronomen , mein.
2) Geſinnung, Neigung. this head of mine, die:
to have a mind, Luft fer mein stopf.
baben. it went entirely Mine S. eine Mine, Erzs
to his mind, 88 ging grube.
ganz nach reinen Sin: Miner S. ein Bergmann.
ne, Wunſche. 3) Erina Miniature S. in miniatu.
nerungsfraft, Gedicts re, im Kleinen.
niß. to put in mind, Miniſter S. a miniſter of
erinnern. 4) die Seele ftate , ein Staatsmini.
5) Gedanke, Vorſtel, ſter.
lung. In his own mind Minute (ſpr. miniit. im ges
bey fic felbft. in Ger meinen Leben; ronſ min
591
jut) S. die Minute. De für die andere halo
Minutely Adv. bis auf den ten. he miſtook it for --
fleinſten, Zheil, genau, Er bielt es irrigerweiſe
þaarflein.
für. - 2) Ý. N. fic
Miracle (fp. Mírrakl) S. irren, aud to be miſta-
ein Wunder.
ken. In this he was mil-
Miraculous adj. murders taken, darin irrte er..
bar, wunderthätig. Miftake 5. det* Irrthum.
Miraculously adv. auf eis to be under a miſtake ,
ne wunderbare Weiſe. ſich irren.
Mirth S. Freude, Frób. Miſtook Imp. . to miſ-
ligkeit, fuſtigfeit.
take.
Miſcarriage Crp. Miſkär- Mílireſs. S. eine Haus.
ridſh) S, verſeben. frau. · her miſtreſs and
Miſchiel S. ein Unglüc. maſter, ibre Herrſoaft.
2) Unfug', Sdade, to Mix V. 4. miſden,
Nachtheil.
mengen.
Miſerable adj. unglüdlich, Móderate adj. gemäßigt.
elend.
' 2) berdeiden.
Miſerably Udv. auf eine to Móderate V. 4. már-
jåmmerlide Weiſe. Rigen, mildern. to mo.
Miſery S. das Elend. derate his grief, f. Stums
Miſfortune Co. das Un mer mildern, mißigen.
Blúc, ein Unfall. Móderately udv. auf eine
to Míls V. 4. entbehren, måßige, gemäßigte Art.
vermiſſen. he miſſed the Módeft Adj. beroeiden.
falt. 2) verfedren nicht Módeſty S. Berd ridens
treffen ; he milled the beit. `2) Sittramfeit,
mark. -
Sdambaftigfeit. one of
Mili S. der Nebel. our R's principal rire
to Miftake V. 4. eine Sa tues was modeliy:
572
Moiſture S. Feuchtigfeit. More adj. (Comparat v.
to Molélt. V. 4. belowe Much) mebr. more ti-
ren, beunruhigen. me, långer.
Multiccas S. die Molufs More 400. mehr. – gur
fen, pine Inſelgruppe Bildung des Compara-
im Indirøen Oceant. tius einiger udjectiven.
Moment. S. der Augens more ſenſible , gefúblo
blick.
poller. 2) nod fix Gui.
Mónarch S. ein Beberr- neas more, nos reche
roher, Monarch.
Guineen.
Móney S. geprägtes Geld, More over ydv. Ferner,
Můnge. engliſh money. weiter, überdies.
Engliide Münge. Mórning S. der Morgen.
Mónkey, Monky S. ein Adj. the morning - light,
Uffe.
das Morgenlidt.
Mónfier S. ein Ungeheuer. Mórrow S. der morgende
Monſtrous dj. ungeheuer, Tag. udv. to morrow,
fürchterlid). the ſame morgen. to morrow.
monſtrous wave morning, morgen früh.
Mónth S. der Monath. Mórſel S. ein Billen,
Mónthly adj. monatólid. ein Mundvoll. .
Mónument S. ein Denf: Mórtal 40%. Berblid. 2)
mal.
tidlich.
Mood S. die Gemüthgo Múrial S. ein Sterblis
ftimmung.
cher. we poor ſhort-
Moon C. der Mond. fighted mortals, wir ar.
Móral #dj. moralird, ſitts-, me kurzſichtige Sterba
lic.
i liche.
Morálity S. Sittlichfeit, Mórially Adv. todtlid.
Moralitat 2) die Dos mortally wounded,
Mórtar S. der Mörtel,
ral.
573
Mauerfalk.
4. bewegen, in Bewes
Moſchito oder moſchetto gung reben, wegbewe-
Cly. Moſkíto) S. der gen, erſchüttern. 2) fig.
Spaniſche Name einer rühren. 3) V. N. in Bea
Art rebe böſer Muiden
wegung regn. we move
in America. Musfito. alone in thee! wir les
Moſt Adj. Superlat. V. ben nur in Dir..
much , Comp. more, Moving Part. a moving
meiſt. the moft part, der light, ein rúbrender
meiſte Theil. Gleich ram Anblick.
als Subſt. mneift. moft Mould (fp. mohld) S.
of them, die meiſten von die lodere Erde, der
ihnen. moſt of his time, S utt he ſoon got ont
reine meifte Zeit. the mould – er fihaffte
Mof Adv. in einem hohen den Soutt bald ber's
Grade, febr. moft ex- aus. looſe mould. -
cellent, ganz vortrefflic. to Mount (ſp. maunt)
Es wird einigen Adjec: V. N. fid in die Hibe
tiven vorgefert, um den bewegen, lid) erbeben,
Superlativ gubilden freigen. 2) V. 4. erſteis
the moſt dreadful , der sen. to mount a hill.
ichredlidifte.
Mountain S. ein Berg.
Móther S. die Mutter. Mountainous lloj. bergig,
Morion S. die Bewegung. gebúrgig. Mountainous
Motionleſs ydj. unbewegs countries, Berggegens
lid.
den.
Motive S. der Bewes to Mourn (ip. Mohrn) B.
sungsgrund.
N. trauren, betribt reynt.
Mótto S der Wahlſprud), Mournful adj. traurig.
das Motto.
Mournfully udv. auf eine
to Move (fp. Muhw) V. traurige, flågliche Art.
574
Mouth S. der Mund, das der Perſon).
Maul , (von Menſchen Muſcle S. eine Muldel.
und Thieren) 2) die a muſcle · Chell, eine
Mündung eines Fluſſes. Muſchelldale.
the mouth of the Tha- to Muſe v. N. einer Sas
mes.
che nadſinnen, in tiefen
Mouth - ful S. ein Mund- Gedanfen ſeyn.
voll.
Muling - Corner. S. ein
Múch adj. viel. with Denfminfel.
much ado , mit vieler Muſic, Muſick S. die
Můbe. 2) Adv. viel. in Muſik.
so much. in ſolchem Muſket S. eine Musfete.
Grade..
. a muſket - ball, eine
Mid. S. der Schlamm. Flintenfugel.
Mulberry S. die Mauls Mullin S. Neſſeltuchy.
beere. Papermulberry- Múft Verb. Defect. muſs
tree, der Papier maula ren (iſt unveränderlich in
beerbaum. morus papy- allen r. Perbåltniſſen.)
rifere Lin.
Mitineer S. ein Aufrůby-
to Múltiply V: A. vermeh- rer, Rebell.
ren. 2) V. ». fic vers Mūtiny S. ein Aufruhr,
mehren.
Aufſtand.
Multitude S. der große to Mùtiny V. N. fic em.
Haufen.
poren.
Murder S. ein Mord. Mitual Adj. gegenſeitig.
to Murder ». A. morden. mutual affection wed-
Muírderer S. ein Mörder. Felseitige Liebe. Bartlid.
MurmurS..das Gemurmel feit.
to Muírmur V. N. murs Muzzle S. die Mündung
ren. (mit at por der Sas eines Geſchibes.
che und mit againſt vor My (ſp. Mi, auſter, wenn
575
es den Naddrud hat, Myſelf Pron. ich ſelbſt.
wo 18 Mei lautet.) 4. f. w.
Pron. Poſt mein, meine.
Nail S. ein Nagel.
way of living. 2) natu-
to Nail V. 4. nageln. ral Philoſophy, die Na-
Naked Adj. nadet, unbe: turſebre, die Phyſif.
fleidet.
Natural hiſtory. Natur-
Name S. der Name. what beſchreibung (Naturges
in the name of wonder, ſchiote),
mas in aller Welt. Naturally Adv. natürlis
to Name V. 4. nennen. cherweiſe.
Nameleſs adj. nahmenloß. Nature (fp. Nehtſchur).
Nánny Anna, Hannden. S. die Natur. 2) die eis
Narration S. die Ergåbs nem Dinge eigentbums
lung.
liche Beſchaffenbeit, die
Nárrow Adj. rdmal, enge. Art.
a narrow paſſage. Nåtured Adj. good-natu-
Nárrowly adv. mit ger red, gut, artig.
nauer Moth
Návigable adj. fediffbar.
Nåtion S. die Nasion, the navigable way, das
Bölferſchafft.
Fabrwaffer.
Native Adj. his native cli- Navigation S. die Sdifo
mate, reine vaterländis fabrt.
fde Gegend.
Návigator S. der Sess
Native S. ein Eingebohrs mann, Seefabrer.
ner.
Này udv. Nein. 2) eine
Natural 401. natürlid, Conjunction um eine
niot fünftlid. a natural Steigerung zu bezeids
576
nen, ſogar, ja nay, if etwas nothig haben,
he had been diligent in aud : to ſtand in great
learning, ja, wenn er need of a thing; to have
1100 -
need.
Near Pråp. nabe. 2) udv. to Need V. 4. nöthig ha-
nabe, bey.
ben, bedürfen. 2) V.
Near 401. nabe. the nea. 4. Grund, Urſache bas
reſt way, der nådſte ben zu etwas. He nee-
Weg. 2) udv. faſt, bens ded not – er brauchte
nahe. near as good. not nidt. Der Infinitivus
near ſo great , ben weis bey dieſem Verbo, ſteht
tem nicht ro groß. bald mit, bald ohne to.
Nearly udv. bernabe, uns Needful adj. nothwendig.
gefähr.
Needle S. die Nadel. the
Neal Adj. zierlid, nett, Magnetick needle , die
rauber.
Magnetnadel.
Néceſſaries S. Plur. die Needleſs adj. unnotbis.
Bedürfniſie, die Notho Needs. Adv. nothwendi-
durft.
gerweiſe.
Néceſſary adj. nothwene to Nèglect . A. vernad.
dig.
låßigen.
Necéſity S. die Notó: Négroe (iv. nigro) S. ein
wendigkeit. 2) das Bes Mohr, Neger.
dürfniß, der Mangel. Neighbouring (fp. nell
Néck S. der Hald, der boring) Adj. benachbart.
· Naffen. 2) a neck of Neither (ſp. nihder) Conj.
land, eine Erdgunge, weder. 2) auch nicht; nor
Erdenge. ' I neither, ich auch nicht.
Need S. die Notb. with- Neither Pron. feiner.
out need , ohne Notb. Néft S. ein Neft.
to be in need of a thing, Nét S. Neß.
577
Nétling S. das, was wie Nimble adj. geſchwind,
ein Net gemacht iſt. burtig.
Filet.
Nine neun.
Nét - maker S. ein Nets Nineteenth der neunzehnte.
ftrider.
Ninth der neunte.
Nét- needle S. eine Filets No Adv. Nein. 2) nicht.
Nadel.
no more, no longer.
Nét-work S. Neßwere No adj. fein. no body,
Néver udv. niemals.never fein Menſch, Niemand.
once, nicht ein einzigede by no means, durchaus
mal wieder.
nicht. . ;
Névertheleſs Adr. nidts NobleU0ji erbaben, it
deſto weniger.
looks ſo noble, es fiebt
Nèw udj. neu.
ro berrlid nus.
Nėw. Foundland S. Neus to Nód V. N. mit dem
fundſund, Terreneuve. Stopfe winfen, nicen.
Newly Adv. neulid, reits Noiſe S. das Gerduſo.
por Eurzen.
Nóne Adj. feiner. It is
News S. Pl: eine Nach: none of my faults, es
richt. 2) Neuigfeit. iſt meine Sould. nidt.
Next Adj. ndoft. the pext Nonſenſe S. Unſinn. one
day, der folgende Lago thinks of nothing but
Nice Adj. ausgeſucht, let: nonſenſe, man denft nur
fer. a nice piece. 2) efel an dummes Zeug..
in reiner Wall, ein Noon S. Mittag. fore-
Ledermaul.
noon; after noon, Vor,
Nícolas, Nicholas S. Nis . und Nachmittag 2) Adj.
colaus.
mittågig. the noon-ſun,
Night S. die Nacht, der die Mittagsfonne. Noon-
Abend. at night - fall, day. Mittagszeit.
beym Anbrud der Nacht. Nór Conj. noo.
(37)
578
Nórth S. Die mitternacht: hand of providence.
liche Weltgegend, Nors Nouriſhment S. die Nab-
den. 2) udj. gegen Nor:- rung, das Nahrungs
den gelegen, the north- mittel..
ſea. . . Now adv. jest, nun. 2)
Noſe S. die Naſe. ? now and then , dann
Nót Udy. nicht.'...
und wann , quweilen.
Nótch S: die ſterbe, der
every now and then ,
· Einſchnitt. . . zu wiederbortenmalen.
Nothing Adv. nid ts. to "Now - a day's béut zu
be good for nothing, Sane.
nidts tausen. it is no Nowhere 2100. nirgend.
· thing to me. Es geht Nowiſe 2dr. feineswes
mich nichts an. .
808... :
Notice S. Beobachtung i Noxious adj. roadlid.
Bemerfung. to take no.
Nuímbed. Part. v.to numb.
tice of a thing, es bei
erftarren.
merfen.
Niímber S. die Zabl. 2)
Notion S. die Vorſtel-
die Anzahl, Menge. in
lung, - der Einfalt.
number an der Bahl.
Notwithſtánding Conj: una
geachtet, dennoch. in Numberleſs udi ungüblig.
Nóvice S. ein Anfänger, Numerous adj. zahlreich.
Lehrling. .
Nur S. die Nuß. Cocoa-
to Nóuriſh V. 4. ernáns .nut, stofus. Nuß. Hazel.
ren. the all nouriſhing nut, Harel Nuß.
-
o Interjection o!
O' ftatt of.
O’aken Adj. von Eiden.
oaken-bark, Eichen
579
Rinde.
toObſcure V. A.Verdunkeln.
Oar S. das Ruder.
Obſervation S. die Wahrs
Oath S. der Søwur, der nebmung, Beobachtung.
Eid.
2) die Bemerfung. .,
Obedience (das o wiro to' Obſerve V. u beobada
deutlid ausgeſprochen) ten..."
. der Geborſam. Obſerver C. ein Beobacz
Obedient adj. geborſam. ter. .
Obediently adv. auf eine Obſolete. Udj. veraltet.
geborſame Weiſe.. verjahrt. . ..
to Obey V. 4. geborden. Obſtacle S. ein Hindernis.
to Object Þ. N. Einwens to Obtain V. 4. erbalten,
dungen macen. againſt befommen.
a thing. to a thing. Obvious adj. leidt einians
Óbiect S. ein Gegenſtand. reben. for two obvious
Objection S. die Einwells reaſons, aus zwer, rebe
dung, der Einwurf.
begreifliden Urraden.
Obligation S. die Vers Occaſion S. eine zufällige
bindlidfeit, Verpflids Veranlaſſung. on this
| tung.
occaſion, bey dieſer Ges
to Oblige (rollte oh
legenheit. 2) to have
bleihdſch ausgeſproden occaſion for etwas nos
werden, jedoch iſt oh. thig baben, bedürfen.
lihdich modiger) V. 4. to Occaſion Þ. ¥. peran,
verpflichten, verbindlich laſſen, verurſachen.
machen. 2) jemanden eis Occaſionally udv. zufällia.
ne Gefälligteit erzeigerte gerweiſe, gelegentlic.
gefällig reyn. 3) to be Occupation S. die Bes
obliged, genótbist reyn, roaftigung.
muſſen.
to Occuir V. A. begegnen
Obſcure Adj. dunkel, 2) lid ereignen. there
586
occurred ſo many oc weit von, wird mehre-
cupations, es traten .so ren Berbis nadsereßt.
viele Geſoefte ein. 3) to come well off, gut
fic dein Gedächtniſſe, davon fomme. to be well
der Aufmerkſamkeit dars off. 2) off. in der Schifs
ſtellen. a new thought ferſprache: auf der Hibe.
occurred to him, to his they arrived off lizze-
mind, ein neuer Ge biittel, fie famen auf der
danfe fiel ibin ein. Hobe von Ridgebüttel,
Ocean S. das Weltmeer, bey R. an.
: der Ocean. the Arlantic to Offénd V. 4. beleidia
Ocean , jas atlantiſite gen.
Meer.
Offénded Part. adj. bes
Odd udj. etwas über eine Iridigt. his offended pa-
gerade Zahl. ſome odd rents, reine gefrånften
minutes , einige Minus Eltern.
ten darüber. ungemobne Offén ſe Š. die Beleidi,
lid, auſſerordentlid. gung. .
odd geſtures , nårriſde to Offer P. A. anbieten,
Gebebrden. that's very darbieten. to offer his
odd, ſonderbar!
prayers to God rein Ges
Odour S. der Geruch. bet verridten. 2) Neutr.
Of (ſp. ow.) Prdp. bildet fico unterſtebeni. offer to
den Genitiv the ties of make refliance, es wa-
nature, die Bande der gen Wideritand zu thun.
Natur. 2) von of it, Office S das Amt.
davon í von demſelben. Oflicer S. ein Dificier. 2)
3) auß. conſiſting of officer of juſtice, Ge:
young folks. 4) of late, ristediener.
kürzlid), neulich. Offſpring S. ein Nach:
Off (ſp. aff.) udv. wes fémmling. Abfómmling.
581
Often Adv. oft.
On Adv. Ferner, and ſo
Often - times Adv. oftmals. on, und ſo weiter. 2)
Oh nterị 0 , a! fort. to go on, fortfahs
Oil S. das Del.
ren. to work on , fort.
Oilet - hole S. ein Schnürs arbeiten. 3) an. he put
loc.
his cloaths on, 308 1.
Old Adj. alt.
Stleider an.
to Omít V. A. übersehen, Once (ſp. uons') Adv. qu
auslaſſen. unterlaſſen. einer gewiſſen Zett. there
Omnipotent edi. almad was once, es war eina
tig.
mal. 2) nur einmal. 3)
Omnipréſent adj. alger zu eben derſelben Zeit.
genwartig.
at onco, auf einmal. 4)
Omniſcient adj. almiſs vormale.
rend.
One udj. zur Bezeichnung
On Pråp. an, (von der einer beſtimmten oder
Seit) on a fine ſummer's unbeſtimmten Einheit,
evening, an einem ſchde ein. evory one, ein je.
nen Sommer-Abende. der. 2) als Zablwort.
(vom Orte) on board, is one of them, ift eis
an Bord, du Soiffe. 2) nes davon. 3) in Bes
aufa on the graſs • plot, diebung auf ein vorbera
auf dem Grasplaße. ón gegangnes Nennwort,
deck, auf dem Derdede. wo es denn im Deut-
on his way, auf ſeinem foen nidtůbeſſert wird.
Wege. he fell on his the only ſurviving one.
knees. 6) on fire , im (fcil. fon) der einzige nod
Feuer 7) on it, on't, übrige (Soon.) a young
davon. daran. – 8) on one, ein Junges. 4) als
a ſudden, plötzlid). on eine unbeſtimmte Pers
purpoſe, mit Fleiß, fon und Sade. if one
582
the
has nothing to do, wenn fen. his oppreſſed breaft,
man nichts zu thun hat. reine beflenimte Bruſt.
one time or other, ir: oppreſſed with grief,
gend einmal.
niedergeſdlagen vor
Only Adj. einzig, allein. Kunner. oppreſſing ,
itheir only child, ihr drúdend.
einziges stind.
Oppréllion S. Unterdrüfs
Only Adv.nur. there only fung. 2) Niedergerbla.
remained, Es war nur genbeit.
nod übrig.
Óption S. die Wahl,
On't f. n. t. on. , das Gutbefinden.
to Open V. iiffnen. Or Conj. oder.
Open 20j. offen 2) unbe: Orchard S. der Baunis
gránst. now they en- Barten.
ter'd into the open ſea, to Ordàin V. A. beroliero
in die offenbare See. ren, anordnen.
the open air, die freye Order S. die Ordnung.
Luft. :
2) ein Befehl. 3) in ore
Opening S. die Deffnung. 'der to , um zu, in der
Operation. S. Unterneh, Abſicht.
mung.
to Order P. A. anordnen,
Opinión S. die Meinung. Veranſtalten, cinridten.
Opportunity S. die bes 2) befehlen.
queme Gelegenheit. Orderly Adj. regelmäßig,
Óppofite udv. (Prip?) ordentlich.
gegenüber. oppoſite to Orderly Adv. auf eine or.
each other..
dentlide Weiſe.
Oppoſite udj. gegen über. Ordinary (im genieinen
the oppoſite (hore, die Leben ord'näry qushes
gegenüberliegende Stufte. (procen) adj. regels
Oppréſs V. Å. unterdrüfs mabig ordentlich. 2)
583
gewöhnlid.
to Overcharge V. 4. über.
Ordinarily Adv. auf die laden..
gewobnliche Art. to overcome V. A. übers
Ore (Оar) S. Erz. wältigen. to overcome
Original. adj. urſprüngs all difficulties; alle
lic. Original hiſtory. Schwierigkeiten ubers
Originally Adv. urſprüng: minden...
lid.
to Overflow V. N. über.
Origine &. der Urſprung. fließen.
Otáheite S. die Inſel Ta- to Overgrow V. A. bes
biti (Otabeit) im Süds wachſen, überwachſene
meere.
the ground was ſo over-
Other Adj. ein andrer. grown with graſs.!
Other wiſe Adv. auf eine to Overheat V. U. zu febr
andere Art, anders. 2) erbitent.
.
ſonſt.
to Overload V. A. úberla.
Oven (ſp. ovv'n) S. ein den.
Backofen. . to Overlook V. A. úber:
Over Präp. über.
reben, durdreben.
Over Udv. uber, überhin, to Overpower V. 4. úbers
binuber a trip over to waltigen.
England, over againſt, to Overlèe B. 4. berſes
gegenüber. 2) vorüber, bell.
vorbey. it is over. 3) to Overſét v. 4. umfal:
in einem boben Grade. len. the boat overſet,
f. die init over zuſams ftúlpte um."- 2) V. A.
mengelegten Verba. umwerfen.
Over - affected Part. übers to Overſpréad V. A. übers
trieben geziert.
fireuen, the ſea was all .
Over-board Udv. über overſpread with dark-
Bord.
neſs , Finſterniß dedte
584
Das Meer.
Outery S. ein Aufſorey,
Overftrained Port. geo Sorey.
dehnt. an overſtrained to Outriin. V. 4. im Laus
Style.
fen übertreffen – 'his
to, Overtake ». A. einho: purſuers ſeinen Verfols
len.
gern im Laufen überles
Overtook Imp. von over- gen. .
take.
. Ont- fide S. die äuſſere
to Overtúrn V. 4. ums Seite, die Aufienfeite.
werfen, umfebren. Outward adj. äuſſere, the
to Overwhelm V. 4. un outward (hell, die duſ-
terdrüden, uiderwålti: rere Scale.
gen; überſchütten. over to Outwear V. A. abtras
whelmed witli grief, gen, abnußen, his cloaths
om Stumner sibermals were worn out. Cout-
tigt.
worn.)
Ought (ip. Åht). V. Des to Owe (pp. Oh). V. A.
fect mit to vor dem da- rihuldig reyll. the mo-
bey ftehenden Infinitivo. ney he owed him. 2)
múſien, chuldig reyn. zu verdanten haben.
Our Pron. Pont. unfer. what they owe to their
Ourſelves Pron. wir ſelbſt, parents, welde Ver.
1118 pelbſt.
· bindlicleiten fie ifren
Oùt adw. aus. he cried Eltern haben. to hiin
out, er rief aus. he they owed the preſer-
went out, Er ging aus. vation of their lives ,
to keep the fire from ihm hatten ſie die Ers
going out.
haltung ibres Lebens zu
Out Pråp. hat jederzeit of dangen.
bey ſid. out of door, to Own V. N. zugebo:
aus der Ebur.
rei.
585
Own Adj. eigen. as their mer.
own children, wie ihre Óx S. ein Ochs.
eigne Kinder. to have Oylier S. eine Auſter.
his own will, reinen
' Oyſterbed S. eine Auſters
frepen Willen haben.
his own country. rein Dant.
Vaterland.
Oyfterſhell S. eine Auſters
Owner S. der Eigenthiis rohale.
P.
gen.
Pace S. Der Søritt. Schmerzen, Stummer,
Paced udj. thorough pa- 3) Unruhe. 4) Plur. Ars
ced huſbandman, ein beit, Mühe, Berdhwe're
ausgelernter landwirth. den. he took pains, Gr
to Pacify V. 4. befànfti bemihte fid. to give
pains, Můbe machen,
to Pack Þ. 4. paden. to Painful adj. ſchmerzlid,
pack up, einpacen. peinlid. 2) múbram.
Pack - thread S. Bindfas Painfully adu. mübram,
den.
berowerlich.
to Páddle V. Ni plåtſchern. Paint S. die Sominfe.
Pàgan. S. e. Heide, Una Painting S. das Mahlen,
Criſt.
die Mahleren.
Pàge S. die Seite eines Pàir S. zwey guſainmen.
Blatts in einem Gude. geborige Dinge, ein
on the following page, Paar, a pair of breeches,
auf der folgenden Seite. ein Paar horen. Im
Paid Part 4. Imp. von to Deuiſden wird es oft
pay. .
nicht ausgedrůdt, d. B.
Pain S. Die Sirafe. 2) a pair of bellows, ein
586
Blasebalg. 2) ein mann. berry- tree, Papiermaulv
lides und ein weibli beerbaum.
dhes Geldhopf Einer Art.' Párcel S. ein kleines Búns
Pálace S. der Pallait. del, ein Pafet.
Pálatable adj. wohlrihmef- Párdon S. die Vergebung,
fend, romaffaft. a pa Verzeibung.
latable food.
to Párdon V. 4. verge:
Pálate @. der Gaum. 2) ben, verzeihen. 2) die
der Geſchmack.
Strafe erlaffen.
Pale udi blag to look pale Parents S. Pl. die Els
as deathi, blaß ausſehen, tern (Aleltern.)
mie rine Leide. Párrot S. ein Papagey.
Paliſade Š. ein Spitfahl, to Párry V. 4. ausparis
Paliſade.
ren. a blow.
Pallace f. palace.
Párt S. einl Theil. in
Pålm, (Tp. Palım) Palm- part, zum Theil. 2) Uns
Tree S. die Palme, der theil. 3) for my part,
Palmbaum.
was inic betrifft. 4) die
to Pálpilate V. N. how Rolle eines Schauſpie.
his heart palpitated, wie Pers. to act the part of
flopfte ihm das Herz. one jemand vorſtellen.
Pán Š. eine Pfanne. a to Párt v. 4. theilen. 2)
frying pan; eine Brate V. N. trennen. to part
pfanne. 2) jedes boble with one , ſich von jes
Gef&ß. A milk pan eine mand trennen. 3) Yuso
Milordaale.
einander geben.
Pánther S. ein Pantber. to Partåke V. 4. Theil an
thier.
etwas nehmen.
Paper S. das Papier. a Partàker. S. Theilnehmer.
llieet of paper, ein Bo: Párticle S. ein ffeiner
gen Papier. Papermula Ibeil, ein Theilden,
537
Partifelchen.
Meerenge bevy Calais
Particular Udj. beſonder; geregelt. they paſſed the
nicht allgemein. a parti- channel. fie paffirten den
cular walk, ein einſa: Canal. 4) zubringen. he
mer Spaziergang, ein palled his days. – he
abgelegener Gang, Weg paſſed this night, auch
2) umſtändlid. a parti- nit away.
cular account, ein unis Páſſage S, die Reiſe,
ſtåndlider Beridt. 3) Durdsana, Ueberfahrt.
ganz beſonders , ausges 2) der Ausgang, Deffo
geidnet, à particular nung, a narrow paſſage
pleaſure.
under the ground. 3)
Partícular S. ein Umſtand. eine Stelle in einem
in this particular, in Buche.
dieſem Stilce. Páſenger S. ein Reiſents
Particularly Adv. umftand- der, Paſſagier. they
lid. 2) inſonderheit were pallengers etc.
vorzüglich.
Pálfion &.die Leidenſdaft.
Pártly Adv. theils... Pálfionate Udi. Beftig,
Párty S. eine Partbey leidenſchaftlich. He uſed
ein Haufen. . the moſt pallionate geftu.
to Páſs V. N. vorbeyge: rès. gebehrdete fic rebe
ben. I'll paſs over this leidenſchaftlich.
part of the hiſtory, ich Páft ftatt paſſed. Part. von
will dieſe Stelle lipopri to paſs, vorbey, vers
übergebent. 2) vorber gangen. the palt, das
reyn. 3) als V. 4. duro Vergangene.
oder über etwas geben, Påfie S. der Kleiſter,
fahren. they had paſſed Mejlfleiſter.
the ſtraights of Calais, Páftime S. ein Beitver's
ſie waren durch die treibi
1
L
588
Paternal Adj. väterlich. Pico von Teneriffa.
Páth S. der. Pfad. Peaked Adj. zugeſpißt.
Patience S. die Geduld. a peaked baſket, ein
Patient Adj. geduldig. fpißzugebender Korb.
Patiently udv. mit Ge: to Peal V. 4. fdhalen.
duld.
· Péarl S. die Perle.
Paiſe S eine Pauſe, Péarled Part. pearled over,
@tilſtand.
beperlt, gleidſam mit
to Pauſe V. N. innebals Perlen tiberſtreut.
ten, fille ſtehen. after Peale S. Erbſen.
having pauſed a little, Pebble S. Kieſelſtein.
nachdem er ſich ein we: Peculiar 28j. beſonders,
nig bedacht hatte eigenthůmlid. peculiar
Paw S. die Tasse, Prote. care, porzigliche Sorgs
to Pay V. 9. zablen, bes falt, Gegenſtand der
zahlen. I'll pay your ex- Aufmerkſamkeit.
pences, ich will für dio Pên 6. eine Søreibfeder.
bezahten, will dich frens Penetrate V. 8. N. duros
balten. 2) to pay a viſit. Dringen, eindringen. 2)
einen Beſuch abſtatten. ergründen. to ponetrate
to pay divine worſhip, into a matter.
als göttlid verehren. Penínſula (ſp. penninſchu-
to pay obedience, es la) S. eine Halbinſel.
borſam beweiſen. to pay the fore- moſt Peninſu.
attention. aufmerfen. la, die Halbinſel dieſs
Peace S. der Friede. Peits des Ganges.
Peaceful adj. friedlid, Penſive adj. nachdenfend,
ruhig.
tieffinnig. 2) rowermus
Pèack (Peak) S., der Gi, thig.
pfel eines Berges. the People (pp. pihpl) S. ein
Peack of Teneriff, der Dolf, eine Nation. 2)
589
. der große Haufe, das niß.
Voll. 3) Leute über: to Permít D. U. zulaſſen,
baupt. -- aud wird das erlauben 'o be permite
deutſche man oft Qurd ted, Erlaubniß baben.
dieſes Wort ausgedrůdt. Pernícions Adj berderb:
to Perceive V. A matrnens lich, rebr rifadlich.
men, bemerfen, fpiiren. Perpendí nlar!y Adv. renfo
Perceptible adj. fichtbar, redt, fonurgerade.
merflid.
Perplexity S Verlegens
to Péroh V. N. fiben wie beit.
ein Vogel auf einein Ate. to Pérſecute V. 4 vers
Perfect adj. vollkommen. folgen. -
Perféction S. die Poll: Perſecution S. die Vers
fommenheit.
. folgung
Perfectly Adv. voufom: Perſeverance S. das Aus,
men, villig, ganzlich. barren, Ausdauern bep
to Perfórm V. A. bewerkseiner. Sade.
ftelligen, verrichten, 'to Perſevère V N. bes
vollziehen.
: barren, anbalten. per-
Performance. S. die Bes levering induſtry, ans
werfiteligung. Augs faltender Fleiß. .
übung.
Perſpective glaſs. S. e.
Perháps 900. vielleimt. Fernglad..
Péril S. die Gefahr. at to Perlift V: n. verbare
the peril, mit Gefahr: ren, bebarren, worauf
Périod 6. der Zeitraum. besteben. perfift in a rer
aud Zeitpunft.
fuſal, auf einer Weiges
to Périſh V N. umfoma rung: “ ..
men. with hunger, Pérſon 6. die Perſon.
Hungers ſterben. to Perſuade V. A. libero
Permálfion S. die Erlaubo reden, bereden.
590
to Pertàin V. N. zu et: phyficks, die Naturlehre.
was gehören.
to Píck. V. A. guſammen-
Perii S. Peru, ein großes ſammeln, aufleren.
Land im fidlichen Umies to pick up, aufſammeln.
rica.
to pick out, auseinan.
Peruſal. S. das felen derpflúden, ausfuden.
durchieren... ; Pick-axe eine Bide, eine
Periívian Adj. Peruaniſch. ſpizige Art.
peruvian fheep. - to Pickle V. 4. einpófeln,
10 Pervért . 4. verfüh: einſalzen.
reni verderben. ; Pico ſ. Peack.
Pélt S. die Peft. fig. je: Picture S.' das Gemåbide
des große Uebel.
Abbildung.
Péſilence S. die Peſt. Pièce S. ein Stud. 2)
to Pétrify V.' 4. verſtei- eine Canone', auch wohl
nern. petrified , figürl. piece of cannon. 3) a
verſteinert, vor Schrefa piece of work, ein Stúd
fen. :? : Arbeit.
Pewter S. Binn. Pièce - meal llop. ſtúd:
Phenomenon plur. Pheno. weiſe. . .
mena S. eine Erfoeis to Pierce V. 4. duroſte-
- nung.
- Qen, durobohren, durch
Philoſophy S. natural grgben. -2) fig. duros
philoſophy, die Naturs dringen.
lebre, Phyfil. ..! Pierced Part. gebohrt.
Phyſical Adj. zur Naturs Pièty (ſp. peieti) S. Froms
lehre gehörig, phyſiſch. migkeit, Gottesfurcht.
phyſical faculty. pbyſis 2) die Liebe zu f. An:
des Vermogen: sebörigen. filial piety,
Phyſician S. ein Arzt findlide Liebe
Phylick S. eine Arznep. Pike 6. die Pife.
592
f
Pile . ein Taufe. 2) ein thing, etwas wiblen,
Holzſtoß, Soeiterbaus ausſuchen.
fen.'
Píteous (fp. pitll'os) 40.
Pillow S. das Kopffiffen. flåglid, traurig.
to adviſe with his pil- Píteously Udv. erbärmlich,
low, etwas im Bette auf eine flågliite Art.
überlegen, es befolafen. Pítiful Udj. flüglich, ers
Pín S. eine Nadele Stedts bermlich, armilelig,
nadel. 2) ein ieder duris elend, jammerlid
ner ſpißer Prod.'
Pity S. das Mitleidetta
to Pine. V. un fich über 2) die Ursace des Bes
etwas gråmen. to pine Dauerns. It were a pity,
away his life. rein Les es ware Soade it is a
ben perſeufzen.
great pity, es iſt ewig
Pious 401. fromm, gute Schade.
tesfürchtiq. 2) žårtſid. to Pity P. A. bedauern,
Piously. Ydv. auf e. from: Mitleiden baben.
me, Bottesfiirchtige Urt. Placo S. der Ort, Plaß.
Pípkin S. ein gópfden. 2) in the firſt place,
Pirate S. ein Sarduber. erillich, zuvorderit. 3)
Píliol S. ein Piſtol. Ehrenſtelle. places of
Pít S. ein Buch in der truft, wichtige Efren.
Erde, eine Grube.
Pit - fall. S. eine Fall. to Place V. 4. ftellen,
grube. Wolføgruve. reßen.
Pítch S. das Ped. Plague (ſp. pleghk) S.
to Pítch V. 4. to pitch a eine Plage. 2) Seude.
tent. ein Zelt aufſchla: 3) die Peft.
sen 2) B. N. fit für Plain Adj. 1. adv. plått,
etwas beſtimmen ; mrit flach. 2) flar, dertlid,
upon, to pitch upon a Pernebmlich.
592
Plain S. eine Ebne, Flåde. me – Wein Vater ſo
Plainly adv. deutlic). 2) gut repn wollte mir zu
. unverſtellt, unverbolen. geben - if God would
he plainly told him, pleaſe to forgive him ,
ragte ihm frey heraus. wenn ihn Gott verge:
Plán S. ein plan, Ent. ben wollte. His majeſty
Turf.
was pleaſed – geruh..
Plane S. eine ebne Fläche te - 3) to be pleaſed,
P. plain. 2) ein Hobel. zufrieden. reyn. I am
Plánk S. eine plante, not at all pleaſed with
Dides Bret, Koble. him.
Plánt 5. eine Pfange. Pleaſing Part. pleaſing hoa
to Plánt V. A. pflanzen pes, ſchmeichelbafte Hoffs
to plant a garden, be: nungen.
piangen.
Pleaſure S. das Vergnú:
Plantation S. die Pflans gen. for pleaſure , zum
zung, Pflanzgarten. 2) Vergnügen. 2) Gefala
eine Colonie, Nieders len, Belieben. after his
Taſſung.
good pleaſure, nad rei-
Plate S. ein Deller. nem Wohlgefallen.
to Play V., N. ſpielen. Plentiful Adj. reidlich,
Play S. das Spiel, Spies ciberflüßig.
: Plenty S. Ueberfluß. in
Play- féllow S. ein Spiels plenty, reídlid.
cammerad , Geſpiele. Pliable Adj. bienfam.
Pléaſant Adj. angenehm. Plót S. ein kleiner Plak.
to Pleaſe V. A. u. N. gee the graſs plot, der ras.
fallen. 2) Gefallen an plaß.
etwas finden, fich an ets Plough, S. der Pflug.
was vergnügen. If Papa to Plough V. 4. pflügen.
would pleaſe to give Plough-man S. ein Aders-
len.
593
mann.
pointing to the map.
Plough-fhare S. die Pflugo the magnetick needle
foar.
points to the north ,
Plow P. Plough.
zeigt nad Norden..
to Phuick V. A. ausreiſſen. Pointed Part. pointed
Plímmet S. das Bleys pofts, poles, zugeſpiste
loth, die Selwage. Prable.
to Plunge V. 4. N. uns Poiſon S. das Gift.
tertauchen, fid ins Waſs Poiſonous Adj. giftig, an,
rer ſtürzen.
ſtedend.
to Ply v. 2. ernfilich, eifs Pole S. ein Pfabl. 2) eis
rig arbeiten an einer ne Stange...
Sade. to ply his oars, topóliſh V. U.glänzend mee
aus allenriften rudern. cen. 2) gefittet machen.
Pócket S. eine Tarde. Póliſhed Part. (vom vor:)
Pocket-money S. Taſchen glänzend. poliſhed file
ver. 2) geſittet i vers
Pód S. die Hülſe, Soote, feinert. poliſhed nations.
Eapſel.
Polite Adj. gefittet. -,
Point S. die Spite eines Poll. Si das zuſammens
Dinges. of the fork. 2) Acogene Wort Parrot
ein Punft. 3) ein bes als Name gebraust.
fonderer Zeitpunkt on Poll! Papden!
the point of. im Be: Pond S. ein Teid.
griff. 4) ein beſonderer Poor Adi, arm, dürftig..
Gegenſtand. point of 2) verådtlid, armſelige
view. Gefiotspunit to Poorly Adv. armſelig. he
carry his point ſeine Ub: was but poorly inftruc-
ficht durcleßen.
ted, er war nur ruled
to Point V. A. u. Ni piz unterrichtet worden. .
aig maden 2) zeigen. Pore . ein Soweißloo..
geld.
(38)
594
pau!
Pork S. friſches, unges fartoffel.
radzenes Someinefleiſch. Potion S. ein Trane. be-
to pickle his pork. witching potion, ein
Pórringer S. ein Napf Zaubertranf.
tiefe Souffel, Beden. Pótter S. ein Tópfer.
Port S. der Hafen. Pouch S. ein Beutel,
Portion S. ein Theil, Anı - eine Earche a hunter's
tbeil.
pouch. a pouch full ,
to Ponéis V. A. beſigen. eine Tarde poll.
Polféllion Š. der Befix. Pound S. ein Pfund.
Pollible adj. móglid. to Pound V. 4. in einem
Polibly Adv. möglichers Mörſer foßen, germals
weiſe. he could not pol. men.
fibly judge, Er fonnte to Pour. (Man ſpridt
unmöglich urtheilen. pau'r und pohr. erſteres
Poft S. ein Pfoften, Pfabl. iſt befier) V. 4. roútten,
2) der Poſten des Sols ausſbútten , figúri. to
daten. 3) das Amt, der pour his ble'lings on
Poften.
one, Jemand mit Ses
to Poft P. 4. ftellen, Pos gen überſchutten. 2) V.
ftiren.
4. fließen, ftromen. to
Poftérity S. die Nachfoms pour forth – his praiſes
men, die Nachwelt.. to God fid in Dank, in
to Poſtpone V. 4. ver: Lob, gegen Gott ergie.
fchieben, ausſehen ren. the rain poured
Póſture S. die Lage, Zus down like a torrent ,
ftand. 2) die Stellung der Regen fiel in Stro:
des Leiben, die Poſitur. men berab.
Pót S. ein Topfo a wate- Powder S. jedes Pulver.
ring pot , eine Gießfans 2) *Shießpulver , quo
ne. 2) ein Strug, gun powder.
Potàtoe (fp. Potáto) S. Powder - room S.die Puls
595
verfammer.
fay his prayers , ſein
Power S. die Madt, Ger Gebet verridten.
walt.
Precaution S.Die Dorfidt
Powerful 40;. mächtig. Behutſamfeit.
Práctice S. die Art und to Precède V. N. vorbers
Weiſe etwas zu thun, geben. - what prece-
das Verfahren.
ded this narration, was
to Práctiſe ({p.präcktis wie vor dieſer Erzablung bers
das Subſtant.) V. A. N. sing.
etwas üben, aus Fer: Précept S. Vorførift,
tigkeit thún.
Gebot.
Praiſe S. Rubm, Preis. Précious adj. fddobar,
a hymn of praiſe, ein koſtbar.
Loblied." -
Précipice S. der Abgrund.
to Praiſe V. 4. preifen , to Precipitate B. A. bers
loben. 2) Danfragen. abſtürzen.
to praiſe God.
Precipitation. S. Eiffere
Pràiſe - worthy S. prejse tigkeit, Eile.
würdig.
Préface S. die Vorrede,
to Pray V. N. . beten. Der Eingang.
to pray to God. 2) bit: to Prefér V. 4. vorgieben.
ten.
Préſerence S. der Por.
Prảy – eine Form der ges zug.
rellſoaftliden Hönich: Préjudice S. das Vorur.
feit, um jemanden eine theil.
Frage oder Bitte vors Prejudicial Adj. nadtbeis
gulegen, etwa, erlau. lig, dadlid.
ben Sie, oder regn Sie Preparacion S. die Dors
ro gut, wenn ich bits bereitung. -
ten, fragen darf. to - Prepare V. A. vorbe.
Pràyer S. das Gebete to reiten. 2) B. N. fid jus
596
bereiten, in Bereitſchaft behüte und davor. the
fefen.
preſeryed people, die
to Prepoſéſs' prepolelled geretteten feute.
with a thing', einges Preſérver S. der Retter
nommen ſeyn für oder und Erhalter.
wider- etwas. - with to Préſs . A. drůden,
a fooliſh fear, eine thon preften, the wine is not
richte Furcht haben. preſſed, mird nicht aus:
to Preſcribe V. 4. pors gepreßt, gefeltert. to
foreiben.
preſs down. - 2) Mit
Préſence S. die Gegen: Widermårtig feiten drúfs
mart, Anweſenheit. of fen. preft with grief ,
mind. Saſſung, Geiſtess gebeugt vom Stummer.
gegenwart.
3) nórbigen, mit Bitten
Préſent udj. gegenwärtig in jemand dringen. He
dem Orte oder der Zeit preſſed the Captain. 4)
nad at preſent, ießt. V. N. to preſs upon
Préſent S. die gegenwärs one, auf jemand eine
tige Beit. for the pre- dringen beym Gefecte.
ſent, Fúr jeßt. 2) ein Préſs S. eine Preſſe, tel.
Geldenk.
ter.
to Preſént V. 2 darſtelo Prélfing Part. dringend
len. 2) rohenfen, geben. the molt preſſing wants.
Préſently Udv. rugleid ,' to Preſume D. 4. n.
im Augenblid.
muthmaßen 2) fic bers
Preſervation S. die Ers ausnebmen, fich erfúbs
'baltung.'
nen.
to Preſerve P. 2. erhals Preſúmtion S. die Vers
ten, aufbewahren, roúg: muthung. 2) Rolse Eine
zen, berabreit. God pre- bildung.
ſerve us from it, Gott Preſúmtuous adj. ftola,
597
vermeſſen, übermüthig. Prickles of thorns, Sta.
to Preténd V. A. vorges meln von Dornbůrden.
ben. 2) fich einbilden. Prièft S. ein Prieſter.'
2) V. N. fid einfalen Prínce S. der Fürſt, obers
Saſſen, f. erfühnen, fic fie Landberr. a prince's
anmaßen.
. feaft, ein fürplides
Pretty udj. nett, zierlich. Mahl.
Pretty 4dv. ziemlich. Pret- Principal Adj. das vors
ty far , ziemlid weit. neomſte the principal
pretty good, pretty high. truths, die Hauptwafes
to Prevail V. N. die Ober: beiten. -
hand bebalten; 2) berr. Principle S. der Grunds
rden. Silence prevailed ratz.
throughout nature. 3) 10 Print V. A. druden,
to prevail on one , jes abdruden.
mand bereden, ihn wo. Print S. a print of human
bin bringen.
foot, Fußſtapfen von
to Prevent ». U. bindern, Menſchen...
verhindern, werhüten. Priſon S. das Gefängniß.
Prèvious adj. vorausge. Priſoner S. ein Gefang-
bend, vorläufig, vorher. mer. to take priſoners.
Prey S. Raub, Beute. zu Striegsgefangenen ma-
a bird of prey, ein Raubs den.
vogel.
Private Adv. verborgen,
to Prèy. V. N. mit on geheim.
verwåſten, zu Grunde Privately Add: auf eine ges
richten, zerítóren. beime, verborgene Art.
Price. S. der Preiß, webrt Prize S. (aud price) der
at the ſame price.. Preis, Gewinn, Glúd.
Prickle S. ein Stachel, 2) Lohnt.
Dorn an den Pflanzen. Probability S. die Wabr-
598
feinlichkeit. in all pro- Prodigious adj. erfaun-
bability, aller Wabr. lich, ungewöhnlid, un.
rdeinlidfeit nad.
gebeuer.
Próbable 40j. waltſcheins to Produce V. 21. bervors
, lic.
• bringen, verurſachen.
Próbably Adv. wabrí eins Production S. Erzeugniß.
· licherweiſe.
Productive. adj. mit of
Próbity S. Redlichfeit, fruchtbar, wirfram, bers
Redtſoaffenbeit.
vorbringend.
to Procèed . N. fortfah: to Proféls V. 4. Offentlich
ren fortgeben, forts befennen. a religion. 2)
foreiten. he proceeded verſidern, betheuern.
with his work ; he pro. Profitable Udj. eintråglid,
ceeded on his jour. vortheilhaft, nuklid.
ney, - machte Forts Profound Adj. tief. a pro.
foritte, repte fort. 2) found filence. eine tiefe
berfommen, berrúbren. Stille.
Proceeding S. das Ver. Progreſs S.der Fortſäritt,
fabren.
Fortgang.
Proceſs S. der Fortgang. Progreſſive adj. junens!
"In proceſs of time, in mend.
der Folge.
Project S. ein Vorhaben,
Proclaim V. 4. öffentlid unrolag, Entwurf. to
befannt maden, ver: drop a project, aufges
fündigen.
ben.
to Procure V. 4. verfdafs to Project V. 4. entwer's
fen.
fen, erſinnen. to project
Procuration S. Befors a ſcheme. Plan entwers
gung, Beförderung. fen.
Pródigal Adj. verfowen: Prolix Adj. weitſchweifig.
deriſa.
to Prolong. V. 4. verläns
599
gern.
Properly ydy. eigentlid,
Prómile S. das Verſprer gebórig.
doen.
Property S. die Eigens
to Promiſo V. 4. verſpres (chaft, Beſchaffenbeit.
den, angeloben.
2) das Eigenthul.
Promontory S. ein Vors Prophecy. (ip. próffel) S.
gebürge.
die Prophezeibung.
to Promote V. 4. befórs to Própbely (ſp. próffeſey)
dern, bewürfen.
D. . porperverfündis
to Prompt ». . antreis gen, prophezeihen.
ben, anreißen" nötbi: Proportion S. das Bere
gen, verpflichten. Hu- båltniß. In proportion
manity prompted mé a8 , in dem Maaße,
to it.
wir.
to Pronounce V. 4. aus. Proportionable adj. vers
ſprechen.
båltnismäßig.
Proof S. eine Probe. 2) Propoſal S. der Vorſchlag,
Beweiß.
Antrag.
Proof adj. geſdúkt gegen Propoſition S. P. d. por.
etwas to be proofagaioft Propriétor S. der Eigens
wind and weather, thümer.
Wind und Wetter trog, to Proſecute V. X. forts
Ben Fonnen.
setzen, verfolgen a work
to Próp V. 4. tuben. eine Arbeit fortführen.
to Própagate ». A. forts Próſpect S. die Ausſict,
prangen, vermebren. der Anblid. .
Próper Udi. Pigen, eigents to Próſper ». N. glúflich
lid, geborin, zutraglich. renn, ſein Glud maden.
the proper reaſon, die Proſpérity S.Glúd, Wool-
wahre urface. 2) eis ftand.
genthümlid.
Próſperous xdj. günſtig.
600
2) glücklic.
to Provide V. 4. mit ets
to Próſtrate . 4. him was verſehen, verſorgen;
'ſelf. — niederfallen, ſich mit of oder with von
zu Boden werfent. der Sache. 2) für etwas,
Proſtration S der Fußfall. für jemand ſorgen, mit
after an humble proftra. for.'
tion nachdem er demüs Providence S. die Vor:
thig niedergeknieet. rebung. divine Provi.
to Protéct V 2. ſchůgen dence.
beſchuiten.
Proviſion S. ein Vorrath.
Protéction S. der Schuß. 2) im plur. Lebensmits
Protéctor Sider Berouder. tel, Proviant.
Próteftant S. ein Prote: Prudent adj. Flug vors
frant.
fictig.
Proud adj. eingebildet, to Prüne . 4. ein Ge-
von ſich eingenommen. wächs beſchneiden. He
to prove V. U. beweiſen. pruned the hedge. "
1) prüfen, verſuchen. 2) Publick. S. das Publis
V. N. durd die Erfah, cum.
rung befunden werden. Publication. S. Befannt,
ſhe proved to be the machung - of a book
mother - es fand ſich die Erſcheinung, Nuss
daß ſie die Mutter war. Babe eines Buchs.
3) daber blos : feyn, Públickly adv. offentlid.
worden. the wind pro- Pudding S. eine Wurſt.
ved favourable ; lo in a fried pudding , eine
. deed they proved; if he Bratwurſt. i
ſhould prove , & trai- to Pull V. 4. sieben, reiſ-
tor. -
fen. to pull down, inje-
Próvérb S. ein Sprüche derreiffen einreiffen.
wort.
to pull off his 'cap,
601
reine Mute abnehmen. fortſeken.3) als ein Mu.
to pull off his cloaths, fer befolgen, denſelben
fich entfleiden.
nactabmen.
Pulſe S. der Puls. Purſùer S der Verfolger.
Prímp S. die Pumpe. to Puſh . U. 1106en,
to Pump. V. 4. pumpen. fo.leven, treiben. ein-
Pumpkin S. pin Ftürbis. ftopfen.
to Puniſh V. 4. ftrafen, to Puil U. Pellen, legen,
beſtrafen.
ſtellen. His ftomach put
Pupil. S. Lebrling, Zog: him in mind, erinnerte
· ling. :
ihn. 2) in Verbindung
to Purchaſe V. 4. Faufen mit Adverbiis bat es
Pure udj. rein, belle. 2) noch beſondere Bedeus
unvermiſcht.
- tungen z. B. to put off
to Piirify V. U. reinigen. bis cloaths, fic auszie.
Pírpoſe (ſp. pörpos). S. ben. to put off; verſole.
die Solidt, ver Zwed, ben. to put on his
das Vorhaben. for that cloaths , fid anziehen.
purpoſe, zu dem Ende to put out a fire, es
on purpoſe, mit Fleiß auslöſchen. to put up
abſichtlid. to anſwer the with a piece of bread,
ſame purpoſe gleide fic begnügen mit einein
Zweife erfüllen. to no Stúde Brodt.
purpoſe. umſonſt, vers Putrefáction S. Fåulniß.
" gebeng.
Putrid Adj. faul, verfault.
Purpoſely adv. abfightlich, Puzzle V. A. in Verlegens
mit Fleiß. . ::: beit fellen. It puzzled
Purſe S. ein Beutel, Gelds his brains, verwirrte
beutel.
iom den Stopf. Er ser,
to Purlie V. A. feindlid brad ſich den Kopf dars
verfolgen, nachreben. 2) über. His underlianu
602
ding was puzzled , reiit Pyramid 6. eine Pyra.
Nerſtand ſtand fille mide.
0.
Quálity (ſp. Kualliti). S. quarter, Er batum
die Eigenſchaft, Berdhafs. Quartier, Pardon.
fenheit.
to Quénch V. 4. löſchen.
Quálmiſh (ſp. kwamiſch.) to quench his thirſt.
adj. Uebelteit empfinden. Quéftion S. die Frage.
He grew qualmilh, ihm
2) der Gegenſtand der
. mourde übel.
Rede. in queſtion - die
vorliegende Sache.
Quántity (ip. Kuantiti) .
Quick Adj. und Adv. Hurs
· die Menge, Größe eines
tis, lebhaft, munter.
Dinges, Quantitat.
Quickly Adv. gefowind,
Quárrel (ip. Kuarrl) S.
gleich.
Streit, Zanf.
Quickneſs S. Hurtigfeit,
Quarter (p. Kuart'r) S. Geſchwindigkeit.
der vierte Theil eines Quiet adj. rubig, fil..
Dinges, das Viertel. a Quiet S. die Rube, Stille.
hind quarter, ein Hins to Quiet V. A. berubigen.
terviertel. 2) eine der Quietly Adv. fille, rubig.
Himmelegegenden. a to Quit D.A. to quit the
wind blowing from all iſland, die Inſel vers
quarters. 3) Frifung des laffen.
Lebens. He begged for Quite Adv. gånglio, gang.
603
Race S. das Wettrennent. Råke S. ein Reden.
h. l. der Lauf, die Laufe to Rálly (fo. ralli) B. N.
бар.
' fid) wieder in Ordnung
Ráft S. eine Froße, eine ftellen, fid ſammeln.
Holandge, (gewóbnlid, Rám. S. ein Bof.
aber unridtig: Fióbbola, Rámble S. das Herums
meldes etwas anders bes ftreifen, Herumirren,
deutet).
Streiferex, Streifzug.
Ráfter S. ein Balfen, Rámbier S. ein Herum-
Querbalfen.
freider, Herumſdwår:
Rấg 6. ein $appery ºut: ter..
-
pen.' . '. Rámpart S. der Wall.
Råge . die Wuth. 2) die Random S. das Ungefábr.
Heftigieit. ... atrandom, auf gut Glid,
to' Rage V. N. wüten. the aufs Geratbewohl.
raging ſea, die tovende Rapacious Adj. räuberiſo,
Sep.
: taubgierig.
Rágged Adj. gerriffen, ger's Rápid adj. ſchnel, les
lúmpt.. : :
Tuwinde. a rapid tore
Ràin S. der Regen!.
rent, ein reiſſender
to Ràin ». N. regnen.
Strohm. ,
to Raiſe V. 4. in die sobe Rapidity S. die Schnels
beben, aufbeben - eps, ligfeit.
beben. -2) wedelli Auf: Rápidly Adv. foned.
weden...:
Rápture S. das Entzüts
Ráiſin (gewoonlich ſpricht fen, Begeisterung.
man rähl'n, comale Rare Adj. ſelten, unges
ribſn) S. eine Rofime.. mibniid.
604
Ráſcal S. ein Böſewicht erreichen fonnte.
Ráſh adj. rard, voreilig. to Read V. 4. leren.
a raſh action, eine uns Reader S. der Refer.
beſonnene Handlung. Readineſs S. die Bereits
Rálhneſs G. die unbelon: Tchaft.
nenbeit, Hevereilung. Reading S. 098 Leren.
Rálp S. eine Karpel. Réady udj. fertig. 2) bes
Plàte. S. der Wehrt, Preis. reitwillig, willig. 3) bey
at this rate um dieren der Hand, in der Nähe.
Preis.
Real Adj. wirklich. a real
Ráther Adj. vicimebr. 2) nut, the real cauſe, die
lieber. he chuſe rather, eigentliche wahre Ur.
er wollte lieber.
rade.
Rávelin S. Navelin. Ein Réality 5. die Wirflids
Feſtungswerf. welches feit. in reality , in der
aus zwey Faßen und eis hat.'
nem Winfil beſteht. to Reap V. X. drndten ,
Råven S. der Rabe einårndten.
Rávenous Udj.raubſichtig, to Rear V. U. in die sobe
gierig, gefråßig. bringen, erzieben. he
10 Ráviſh V.U. entzúffen. reared a flock, - er 308
Fiaw Adj. robi ungefocht. cine Heerde auf.
raw fleſh. 2) von der Reaſon B. die Vernunft.
Haut, wund.
inconſiſtent with rea-
to Reach V. A. erreichen. ſon, unvernünftig 2) der
2) darreiden. 3) V. N. Grund.'
ſich erſtreden.
to Reaſon V. N. Vernunfts
Reach S. die Weite in rolüſſe maden, ſchliefs
welder man etwas er's ren. 2) nad Grinden
reiden fann. within his fragen, raiſonniren.
reach, po nabe daß er's Reaſonable adj. vernünfs
605
tig, 2) der Billigfeit 3) himſelf , fid faſſen,
gemaß, billig.
fic befinnen, wieder zu
Reaſonably adv. ſ. D. vor. fich fommen.
Reaſoning S. das Schlieſs to Recommend V. 4. eme
ren, Urtheilen.
pfeblen. ;
Rébel S. ein Aufrůbrer, to Record V. 4. nieder,
Rebel.
foreiben, aufzeichnen,
to Rebound V. N. zurid: 'Przählen.
pralen.
Recourſe. S. Zuflucht. to
to Recall V. A. qurucru: have recourſe feine Zus
fen.
Audt nehmen.
to Receive V. 4. empfans to Recóver V. Ao etmas
gen, annehmen. 2) eine wieder erlangen. his
Perfon aufnehmen. he' ſhip. fid reines Schiffes
received him with great wieder bemådtigen. es
hoſpitality.
einnemen. to recover
Receptacle S. ein Behålt: his ſeules , his ſpirits.
niß. 2) der Ort wo man fid wieder ervolen, zu
etmas aufnimmt. fic relort fommen. his
Sammelpiar.'
liberty. reine Freyheit:
to Réckon V. A. reonen erhalten to recover him-
zuſammenrednen. he ſelf.
reckon'd over, er über's Recovery S. Wiederbers
rednete.
ftellung.
to Reclaim V. . wieder to Récreate V. A. erguife
fordern.
fen, erfrijden.
to Recline V. N. ſib lebs to Recrùit . y. himſelf.
nen, luben.
neue Stråfte befommen,
to Recolléct V. N. tpie: fic erholen.
derſammeln. 2) erinnern. Réd udj. roth. red. bor,
Do you recollect ? – glúbend.
606
to Rédden V. 4. roto ma: to Refreſh v. U. erquit:
chen, róthen.
fen, erfriſchen.
Réddiſh adj. röthlich. Refreſhment S. die Ers
to Redouble ». U. vero quidung, Erfriſdung.
doppeln. . to Refuſe V. A. N. fich weis
to Redìce V. A. wieder gern, etwas abſolagen,
zu etwas bringen to re- qusſdragen.
duce to obedience, 2) Refuſal S. Weigerung.
bezwingen, erobern. to to Réfuge V. 4. in Soup
be reduced by hunger. nehinen.
Rèed S. Robr, Soilfs to Regàin V. 4. wieders
robr.
erlangen, wiedergewins
Rèel S. eine Garnwinde, nen.
ein Haſpel.
Règal adj. königlich.
Reference S. die Bezies to Regárd V. 4. etmas
bung.
adten. 2) Rúdfiot auf
to Refít V. A. ausbefs etwas nehmen. 3) in P.
rern, (beſonders von Obhut nehmen.
Soiffen gebrauct.) Regárd S. der Blic. 2)
to Refléct V. 4. U. N. qu: die Beziehung auf ete
ricwerfen. to reflect the was with regard to ,
light. 2) etwas betrach in Rudlicht, in Bes
ten, erwägen, naddens trachtung.
fen, mit on oder upon. Règion S. die Gegend.
Reflection S. das Nach: Regrét S. Stummer, Bes
denfen, die Betracs trübniß.
tung. .
to Regrét V. 4. beflagen,
to Refrain V. n. fic eis bedauern.
ner Sade mit Gewalt Régular udj. regelmäßig
enthalten, - fic im ordentlic.
Baum balten. . Régularly Adv. auf eine
607
regelmäßiger ordentliche Linderung.
Art.
to Reliève . 4. lindern,
to Régulate V. , anords erleichtern. 2) eine
nen, einridten.
Schildwade ablöſen.
Regulation S. die Unords Religioni S. die Religion.
nung, Einrichtung. Religious adj. religios. 're-
to Rejéct V. 4. verwers ligious Sects, Religionss
fen.
parthegen.
to Rejoice W. N. friblic to Relinquiſh V. A. vers
reyn. to rejoice in a laſten, etwas fabren lara
new day, in a truth, ren, aufgeben.
fid über einen neuen Réliſh S. der Woblges
Tag, über eine Wabr: foomadf.
beit freuen.
Réliſhing Udi. Ichmachaft,
to Relapſe V. U. zurúdfal: woolroomedend.
Ten, in eine vorige stranke Rehícrance S. der Widers
heit oder in den vorigen wille, die Abneigung.
Fehler.
to Rely v. n. fid auf
to Relate V. 4. erzählen. etwas verlaſſen, mit on.
Relation S. die Erzdblung. to Remain V. N. übrig
2) ein Verwandter. 3) reyn, brig bleiben.
Beziebung. to bear re- Remains S. P. der Uer
lation to our happineſs. berreſt, das Ueberbleib.
Relative. adj. fich bezies fel.
hend. Bezug babend. Remainder S. f. das vor.
Relaxation S. das Nach: Remark. S. Bemerkung.
laften. 2) die Erſchlafo Anmerfung.
Remarkable adj. merfruits
Releaſed. Part. entlaſten & dig.
aus der Haft begnadigt. Rémedy S. ein Arzneps
Relici . Erleidterung, mittel. 2) jedrs Mittel
fung.
608
geben.
gegen ein Uebelo : thun an error. einen Jrr.
to Remember V: A. fic thum Fabren laſſen, auf:
an atma's erinnern.
Remémbrance S. das An. Rént Part. v. to rend,
dellfen.
rent to pieces, in Stúf.
to Remind V. A. an et ten gerriffen.
mas erinnern.
to Repair V. X. ausbeſo
Renúnftianae S Vorſtels Pern. 2) ſich begeven V. N.
lung, Ermalnung, War- Repair S. der Aufenthalt.
11011g.
Repáft S. eine Mahlzeit.
Remórfe @. der Gemif: to Repeat V. 4. wiederhos
rendbiß, die Gewiffeniss len, etwas noch einmal
ang ft.
thunt.
Remote Udj. entlegen, Repeatedly adv. miebre
entlegen, entfernt von malo , ofter.
Zeit und Ort. into the to Repént V. N Krummer
remoteft futurity, in über etwas empfinden,
die fernſte Zufunft. etwas bereuen, mit of.
to Remove V. 4. forts He repented of his
ſchaffen, wegſchaffen. wrongs , bereuete rein
wegnehmen, entfernen. Unrecht. If you fincere-
to, Rénd V. U. zerreiffen. · ly repent, wenn deine
to Render ». A. wieder's Reme aufridtig iſt.
gebell. 2) machen. to Repentance S. die Reue.
render himſelf unwor. Repéntans Adj. reuevoll ,
thy of a thing. . bußfertig.
to Renèw . U erneuern. to Reply V N. antworten,
to Renounce V. A. einer erwiedern.
Sache entfagen. to rę. Reply S. eine Gegenant
nounce a pleaſure, auf wort, eine Einwendung.
un. Vergnügen Verzicht Report S. die Sage, Qas
609
Gerücht. 2) der stnal. ben, aufbewahren, aufe
the report of the gun. ſparen.
Repole S. die Rube, der Reſérve S. Vorrath auf den
Schlaf.
Nothfall. 2) Vorbehalt.
to Repofe V. N. ausruheni. to Reſide V. N. wohnen.
to Repreſent V. 4. vor: to Reſign V. #. himſelf
ftellen.
ſich obne Murren und
Reproach S. der Vor: Widerwillen unterwers
wurf, der Verweif. fen. with reſigned for-
to Reprove V. I tadein, Litude, mit geduldiger
einen Verweiß geben. Standbaftigfejt.
Requéft S. eine Bitte, Reſignation S. Ergeben..
Geſuch.
beit, Unterwerfung. ;
to Requeſt V. A. bitten, to Relift. V. . widerter
erſuchen.
ben.
to Require V. A. fordern, to Refólve V. 4. beſchlies
verlangen. 2) erfordern, ren. to reſolve upon, .
nöthig madien.
the voyage was reſolved
Réquiſite adj. erforderlich, upon.
unentbehrlich.
Réſolute adj. entrdloffen,
to Requite V. 4. vergelo beberzt.
teil.
Reſolution 6. der Ente..
to Reſcue V befreyen, foluß, Dorras. 2) Ent
erretten.
fololienbeit, Standbafe
Reſemblance S. die Uebnis tigkeit.
lichfeit. to bear fome Reſource S. Hilfsmittel,
reſemblance , Uebnlic. Húlfaquelle
frit baben.
Reſpéct S. Ehrerbietung..
to Reſemble V. N. &b115 2) Beziebung, Rúdſigt.
lid reyn, gleiden. In ſome reſpect, gemiro
to Reſérve D. 4. gurbes ferniaßen. with reſpect
(39)
610
to, in Rüdlicht, Hin, halten, abhalten.
lidt auf -
to Reſuilt. V. N. entſprins
Reſpectable Adj. Achtungs- gen, woraus berporge:
wehrt.
ben, folgen.
Reſpectfully adv. bochac: Reſult. S. Folge, Reſultat.
tungsvoll.
to Refùme V. 4. etwas
Reſpiration S. das Atbem unterbrochenes wieder
holen.
vornehmen. the father
Réſpite (Tp.réſpit) S. der reſumed his ſtory, fing
Aufidub Stilſtand, wieder an. he reſumed
Sriſt.
his air of familiarity.
Réft S. das Ueberbleibrele nabm feine freundliche
der Reft. for the reft, Miene wieder an.
übrigens. all the reſt to Retàin V. 4. behalten.
of us, wir übrigen alle. 2) im Geddatniß bebal.
Réft S. die Rube, der ten, nidt vergeſſen.
Solaf. His mind was to Retåke V. 4. von neuem
never at reſt, reine nehmen, wieder nebo
Seele war nie in Rube. men.
to Réf V. N. ruben, auss Retinue (einige legen den
ruben.
Uccent auf die erſte, an-
Réfleſs Adj. unrubig, raſto dere auf die zweite Syls
los.
be. Die Analogie, bes
to Reſtore V. A. wieders günſtigt die erſte Weiſe.)
berſtellen, wiedergeben. S. das Gefolge.
reſtore to life, ins Les to Retire V. N. fid 34.
ben zurüdbringen. refto- ridsieben, ſich wegbes
ro to vice, wieder las geben.
fterhaft machen. a reſto- Retired Adj. einfam.
red friend.
Retreat S. ein Zuflucts.
to Reftràin Þ. ¥. zurůd, ort, Frepſtåtte. 2) ein
612
einſamer Ort. 3) Eins dię rohredlide Naturber
ſamfeit.
gebenbeit.
to Retreat V. N. fic au. to Reward V. 4. Beloh
růdziehen.
nen, vergelten.
to Petriève V. U. wicder: Reward @. die Bergele
erlangen. to retrieve his tung, der Sohn.
younger days, reine gu: Ríband (fp. ribben) S. ein
gendjahre zuriidbringen, ſeidenes Band,
r. nod einmal leben. Rice S. der Reiß.
to Retuúrn V. N. wieder Rích udj. reid.
zurůdkommen, umfeb: Ríches S. der Reidthum.
ren., 2) V. 4. gurúdge: Ríchly Adv.reidlid, übers
ben, wiedergiben. to flüßig.
return thanks , danken. Rick* S. ein Haufen. his
Return S. die Wieder: hay rick, f. eu dos
funft, die Zuriidkunft. ber.
to Reveal V. 4. entdeffen. Ríd Part. vom folgen.
Réverence S. die Ehrer: den V.
bietung.
to Ríd B. 4. befrepen. to
Reverſe S. (die Rüdſeite.) get rid of one, jemana
and ſo the reverſe, um den {os werden.
gefehrt, wedſelsweiſe. Riddle S. ein Räthrer,
Révery S. Träumérer. überhaupt, jede uners
to Revive V. N. wiederaufe flårbare Sache.
leben 2) V. 4. bereelen. to Ride V. N. 4. A. reis
to Revólve V. . ermde. ten.
gen. he revolved in his Rídge S. ein Bergrúden,
mind. Er überdadte ber eine Reihe Berge.
fich.
Riding-breeches S. Reit.
Revolution S. the great boren.
revolution of nature, Rigging 6. Das Laus und
612
Tafelwert eines Schiffe , 2) der Urſprung:
die Tafelage.
to Riſe V. N. aufſtehen,
Right Adj. gerade. 2) rich. fid erheben 2) ſteigen.
tig, redt. You are right, Rifing - ground S. eine
Ihr babt Recht 3 the Unyibe.
right hand, die rechte to Ríſk V. 4. etwas wa:
Hand.
gen.
Right Adv. redt, richtig. River S. der Fluß.
very right, ganz richtig. River - water S. Flußmaſ.
Right S. das Recht. 2) rer, fließend Waffer.
You are in the right , Road S. die Landſtraße,
Ihr habt Rect.
der Weg. near the road-
Righteous (ſp. reitſchjos) fide, am Wege. -- what
adj. redtraffen, tus roads to keep, wel,
gendhaft.
den Weg man eindlas
· Rightly Adj. rechtmäßig, gen, nehmen muß.
dem Rechte gemäß, mit to Roam V. N. berum:
Recht.
ftreifen, umberíowårs
Rind Š. Die Kinde. . men.
Ring, leader S. der Rås to Roar V. N. brüllen.
i delsfibrer. .
2) brauſen als der
Ripe udj. reif, zeitig. Sturm oder die See:
to Ripen V. ». reif wer: Roar S. das. Brauſen.
dell.
Roaring p das vor.
to Ripple » 4. den Flachs to Roalt V. #. braten.
raufen.
Roaft Part, v. to roaft,
Ripple - comb . S. die Gebratenes, der Bras
Rauffe.
ten. roaſt meat.
Riſe . das Wufftebn. the to Rób V. A. rauben, ber
riſe of the Sun. Sun- rauben.
riſe, Sonnenaufgang. Róbber S. ein Råuber.
613
Róck S. eine Klippe, Fels. to Rove ». N. berum
Rúcky Adj. poller Felſen, ſomårmen. to rove abouts
Strippen..
the woods.
to Roll V. 4. 4. N. wiſs Rough (ſp. roff) Adj.rauh.
zen, rollen. the ſhip rol. Roùod S. der Cirkel .
led up and down, Streis. .
rowanfte auf und nieder. Round Adj. rund.
ſome years rolled over Round-about, a'round-
es verftriden einige about way, ein Umwege
Fabre.
to Roule . 4. vom Sola-
Roller S. eine Walze. fe weden, aufweden,
Roman (ſp. römän) 40j. ermunitern.
Rómifo. a Roman, Ca. Row S. eine Reibe.
tholick.
to Rów V. 2. rudern.
Roof S. das Dad. Róyal Adj. föniglio.
Room S. der Raum. here Kóyalty S. die Königlide :
is room enough, bier Würde.
iſt Plaß genug. 2) ein to Rub v. 4. reiben.
beſtimmter, abgeſonders Rubbiſh. S. der Soutt,
ter Plan. powder-room, Trúnimer.
die Pulverfammer. Rudiment S. die Anfangos
Root S. die Wurzel. grunde einer Wifelis
Rope S. ein Tau, Seili (chaft 2) der erſte uns
Strid.
terridt.
Rope- maker S: ein Seis Ruffled v. to ruffle, ge.
Ter. .
fråuſelt, fraud, von der
Roſe Imperf. ll. to riſe.' See gebraudt, die nur
Rófin S. Harz, (6. Erds leidt fich bewegt.
ped.)
Ruin S. der Untergang,
Rotten Part. v. to rot, Zerſtörung. the ruins,
verfault.
die Trümmer.
614
to Ruin V. 2. zerſtören. to Ruilh . N. ronell,
Rule S. eine Regel, Vora mit ungeftúm laufen,
fchrift.
Plößlich bervorſdießen.
Rúmbling S. das Raſſeln, to ruſh down, berabs
Gepraſiel.
Tirgen. the blood ruſ-
to Rún' V. N. rennen, hed in his face, das
laufen, to run into glaſs. Blut ſoos ibm ins Geo
Running Part. v. to run, fict.
a running foot - man, Ruſtling S. das Raurden.
ein fåufer.
of the leaves.
Rural Adj. låndlich. Rye, S. der Roden -
Ruſh S. die Binſe, eine eine befannte Getraides
Art von Sumpfgras. Art.
,
Sacred Adj. heilig. by all Safety S. die Siderheit.
that is ſacred , bey als Said (fr. led) Impf. u.
lem was heilig iſt. Part. v. to ſay.
to Sacrifice D.U. zum Opfer Sail S. das Segel.
bringen, opfern, wids Sail- cloth. S.Segeltuchy.
men.
.: to Sail ». N. 4. A. ree
Sád udj. traurig., the ſad geln, diffen. .
conſequences.
Sailor S. cin Seemann,
Sáddle S. der Sattel. Matroſe..
Saddler S. der Sattler. Såke S. die End: Bewer
Safe Adj. glüdlid, ficher. gungsurſache. for our
ſafe and ſound, woblbes fake, um unſertwillen.
halten und geſund. for ſport's fake , zum
Safely udv. fider, ohne Zeitvertreiber zum
Sefabr, glüdlic : Spaße.
615
Sale S. der Verfauf. Sát Impf. D. to Gt.
Sállied Impf. v. to ſally. to Satiate (ſ. Téhſhiät) V.
10 Sálly V. N. he fallied A. fåttigen. he could
forth, er maďte ſich auf not ſatiate his eyes , er
den Weg, er zog ab. fonnte fid nidt ratt ſes
Salt (ſp. ſahlt) S. 098 ben.
Salg.
Sátisfaction S. die Be:
Salt Adj. falzig, geſalzen. friedigung, das Vers
ſalt- herrings.
gnúgen.
to Sąlt V. A. Paljen i eins to Satisfy P. . befriedis
falgen. to ſalt herrings, aen, aeniaen.
Heringe einbófeln. Saturday S. Sonnabend.
Sálvage S. die Bergeren,
Savage Udj. wild. S. ein
Rettung verunglúdter
Soiffe. the laws of 2
Wilder.
wreck and ſalyage, das to Save V. 4. bewahren,
Strandredt.
erbalten, retten. Co ſave
Salutary udj. beilfani. himſelf, fid retten. 2)
Same 20j. daffelbe. the erſparen. to ſave of his
very fame, eben daſſelbe. pocket-money , von feie
Sample S. ein Muſter, nem archengelde zurüd.
eine Probe.
legen.
Sánd 5. der Sand. Saving S. die Errettung,
Sánd - bank S. die Sand: Rettung.
banf.
Savour S. Wohlgeſchmad.
Sándal S. Soub obne Sàulage (pp. Cahſedſch) S.
Dberleder. Sandale. eine Bratwurſt.
Sándy udj. randig. Såw Impf. v. to ſee.
Sánguine. adj. lebbaft. Såw S. die Ságe...
Sanguine wiſhes frurige to Sàw V. A. fågen.
Wunde.
to Say V. 4. und N. ragen.
616
tis faid, man ſagt. (dhaftlich.
Saying S. ein weißer Sciſars Š. P. die Steere.
Spruch, Sprichwort, to Scoop V. 4. aushib-
Senteng.
len.
to Scáld v. A. mit beißem to Scorch V. 4. ſengen,
Waffer breinen, Orůben. verbrennen. the ſcor-
Scarce udy. Equm, mit ching heat, rengende,
genauer Noth.
romelzende Hibe.
to Scàre V. 4. in Furcht to Scórn V. 4. 1. N. ver.
repen. ſcared out of his ſpotten. 2) veragten,
ſenſes , vor Furcht nichts verſomdhen.
reben und nichts bören. to Scramble V. N. und U.
Scarlet S. der Scharlad, flettern. to ſcramble on
Adj. Qarlac fårbig. [hore. to ſcrambledown.
to Scatter V. 4. berum: to Scràpe V. 4. foaben,
ſtreuen. '2) V. N. ſich abroaben.
gerſtreuen aboud the to Scratch V. A. fraßen,
woods: in den Wildern · roarren.
uniber ſich gerſtreuen. to Scream V. N. laut auf
Scène (ip. lihn) S. der foreven. to ſcream out,
Schauplaß. 2) ein Aufe einen lauten Sørey
tritt, eine Scene. Fa- tbull.
mily ſcenes.
to Screen V. 4. fchuben,'
Scheme. S. Plan, Ents foirmen, mit from,
wurf.
vor etwas.
Schólar S. ein Schüler , Screw (ſp. ſkru) S. eine
Erhrling.
Søraube.
School S. eine Schule. Scruple S. eine Bedenks
Science (pp. Sceiens) S. ficfeit.
die Wiſenbaft. to Scruple ». N. Bedena
Scientífick. Adj. wiſſen: Een tragen, ein Gewijs
617
fen woraus maden. gehörigen Zeit geſchiebt,
Scull S. der Hirnſchidel. paſſend, tidlid.
Scrillion S. der Kú;ens Seaſonably Udv. zu geleges
junne.
ner Zeit, fortlich.
Sculpture S. die Bild. Seat Pin SIB.
bauerfunft. ; to Scat V. 9. feßen. to be
Scutching ſtock. S. (ets ſeated, fißen. .
ma?) die Bode (eigent: Second 001. der zweite.
lich ſagt man the lax is Sécondary 4dj. unterges
pounded.)
ordnet a Secondary in-
Sea S. die See.
tention.
Sea - coaſt S. die Serbüfte. Secondly Adv. zweitens.
Sèa - man sein Seefall Sècret Adj. verborgen, uns
rer, Seemann, Mas bekannt. ſecret reaſons,
trore.
beimliche Gründe. -
Sea - map S. eine Sees Secret S. ein Geheimniß.
farte.
Secìre (pp. fikjuíbr) Adj.
to Search V. 4. durchſus fider, beſchüßt...
Qen. 2) V. N. mit af- to Secure V. 4. fidern,
ter, nach etwas ruden beſchůben.
nadforrden. . Security S. Sicherbeit.
Search S. Jas Durchſus to Sèe V. u. reben.
den, die Durchſuchung. Sèed S. der Saame. to
Sea - fick 401. leefrank.. take the ſeeds of the
Seaſon Si eine der vier flax, die Samenkapſeln
Jahreszeiten. 2) eine abnehmen.
Zeit überhaupt. the fiſh- to Seek V. N. nùit after
ing - ſeaſon, die filos und for. nad etwas lus
zeit.
den.
to Sèaſon V. A. Wirzen. to Seem D. N. Coheinen.
Seaſonable adj. IPAD ZUL Sècn Part. p. to ſee.
618
to Sèize V. U. ergreifen, the ſenſe of ſhame. 3)
erharden. 2) als eine Begriffe Verſtand.com.
· Krankheit oder Gemüthor mon ſenſe, der geſunder
bewegung überfallen. he gemeine Menſchenver,
was ſeized with a head. ftand.
ake. 3) V. N. he fei- Senſeleſs S. der Empfins
zed on him. - pacte dung beraubt, finnlos.
ihn.
2) der Vernunft be:
$éldom Adv. Pelten. raubt, unvernünftig, uns
Sélf Pron. Pelbft. one's verſtandig. •
ſelf, ſich relbſt. from it- Senſibility S. Empfinds
ſelf, von relbſt.
ſamkeit.
Self-defence S.die Selbſt- Senſible adj. empfindram.
vertbeidigung.
2) empfindlich, romerzo
Self - denial S. die Selbſt: baft. 3) merflid. fen-
verleugnung.
lible relief, merflide
Self-denying S. . das Erleichterung. 4) to be
vor.
ſenſible of a thing von et,
to Sell V. A. verfaufen. was überzeugt reyn. 5)
Sélves V. ſelf. their own. begreiflich. to make the
ſelves, ficb felbſt.
animal ſenſible, dem
to Send V. A. N. renden, Thiere merflich maden,
ſchiden. to ſend compli- iom zu verſtehen geben.
ments, grüßen laſſen. 2) Sénſibly Adv. auf eine
to fend forth , berpor: merfliche, füblbare Art.
bringen, verurſachen. Sént Part. und Impf. v.
Senſation S. die Empfin- to ſend.
bung,
Sentence S. der Ausſpruch
Senſe S. der Sinn, (Sinn des Ridters, das Ur-
Werkzeug.) 2) die Em: tbeil, die Senteng.
pfindung, das Gefübl Séntiment S. die Meis
619
NIM
nung, Geſinnung. to Sérve P. A. und N.
Sentimental. Adj. empfinds dienen, bedienen. 2) ge:
ram empfindelnd. nug reyn. it would not
Sentinel S. die Søild ſerve liis turn , es ges
wade.
núgte ihm nicht. 3)
to Séparate V. 4. trennen, wozu dienen, nißlich
theilen, abſondern. 2) feyn gu etwas. 4) die
V. N. fict trennen, Stelle vertreten. It
roeiden. ſeparated from would ſerve him as a
all mankind, geſchieden. cellar. 5) behandeln. I
Séparately udv. getrennt, am rightly ſerved, mir
abgeſondert, beſonders. Derdiebt ganz recht, ich
September S. der Seps erbaſte meinen verdiens
tember.
ten fobn. 6) die Spei.
Serène udj. beiter, bell, ren auftragen.
flar.
Sérvice S. Der Dienſt.
Serenity E. Heiterfeit, Sérvile udj. félavird
ſomohl des Himmels als Fnechtiſch, friechend.
des Gemüths.
Sérvitude S. die Sklaves
Séries (ſp! firiis' S. die rey, Strechtfdaft.
Reibe.ſeries of thoughts, Sélfion S. die Sißung.
Gedankenreibe. to Sét V. 4. reßen, ftel-
Serious adj. ernſthaft, Sen. to ſet ſail, unter
feperlich.
Segel, geben. 2) in eis
Sèriously adj. auf eine nen gewiſſen Zuſtand
ernſthafte Art
verreben. to ſet free ,
Sérpent $. eine Solange. Befrepen, in Freibeit
Sérvant S. ein Dienſtbos reßen. to ſet on fire,
te. man - ſervant , ein anzünden, in Brand
Bedienter. maid-ſervant, fteden. 3) mit einigen
eine Dienfimagd.
Adverbiis: to let about
620
a thing, eine Sache vors Severely Adv. auf eine
nehmen, unternehmen. ftrenge, empfindliche
to ſet up a cry, ein Ges Urt.
Fohren erheben. 4) 18 Sevérity S. die Strenge,
Neut. untergeben von Hårte, Schårfe.
Getirnen. the ſun ſets... to Sew (ip. [so.) P. 4.
to ſet out, fich auf den nåben.
Weg machen, aufbrechen. Shảde S. der Schatten.
to ſet to work, ein Ge: to Shade V. u. berinatten.
ſchaft anfangen.
2) idattiren.
Sét S. ai fun - ſet, bey Shadow S. der Schatten.
Untergang der Sonne. to Shadow V. A. berdats
to Séttlé V. 4. feftfeßen. ten.
to ſettle matters , etwas Shady Adj. roattig.
. nusniachen.
to Shake V. 4. foutteln.
Séttlement S. eine Nie: he ſhook his head , er
derlaſſung, Colonie. 2) routtelte den stopf. to
ein Vergleid, Vertrag. Shake off, abſojúttellt.
Séven Udv. ſieben.
to Chake hands, fid eine
Séyenteen ſiebengebit. ander die Hände geber,
Séventeenth udj. Der fiebs beſonders um ubrdied
sebnte.
! pon einander zu nehmen,
Séventh Adj. der febente. (ftatt der, bei andern
to Séver. V. 4. trennen, Nationen üblichen Ums
theilen, abſondern 2) V. armung )
N. Severed alunder. quos Shake S. die Erroüttes :
einander gegangen. rung. 2) ein Stoß. a
Several adj. verroieden, hearty ſhake, ein ders
unterrieden;
ber Stoß.
Severe adj. bart, ftrenge. Shall (ſp. ſchäll) V. des
upon one, gegen jemand. fect. I ſhall, als Hálfds
621
wort des. Futuri', ich bemeffer.
werde. 2) befugt feyn. She pron. fil. – Da man
ſhall we? Dürfen wir? - im Engl. Die Soiffe,
3) rollen.
vorneomlid, wenn fie in
Shallow adj. reidt. Bewegung find, als
Sháme Š. die Sdant. 2) weiblichen Ger@lechts
die Shamhaftig feit. betrachtet, ſo wird ſhe
Shameful adj. fdimpflid, in dieſer Beziebung
dåndlic.
durd es überſetzt were
to Shape V. 4. bilden, den müſſen.'
formen. ·
to Shéd V. A. ausgießen,
Shape S. die Geftalt, vergieffen ; to ſhed tears,
Bildung.
to ſhed blood.
to Shåre V. N. mit in , Shéd S. ein Wetterdad,
Theil an etwas babent. Souppen.
Share S. Der Antheil. Sheep S. das Soaaf, die
Sharer S. eine Perſon, Sdaafe..
die an etwas Theil Sheet S. ein Blatt a ſheec
nimmt; Tbeilbaber, of Paper, ein Bogen
Tbeilnehmer.
Papier.
Sharp Adj. (charf. 2) gus Shell S. die Soare. 2)
geſpillt.
Hülſe.
to Sharpen V. 4. (chårfen. to Shell V. 4. aushülſin.
2) zuſpiben. .
to ſhell peale.
to Shátter V. 4. zerfomets Shelter S. der Schuß,
tern, zertrimmern. Die Bededung. 2) eine
Shaving S. das Schaben. Herberge, Woonung.
the ſhaving-beam, der to Shélter V. 4. foußen,
Schabebod, Sdabeo berdutzen.
baum Der Odrber. Pha- Shew f. flow.
ving-knife, 048 Schas to Shift V. A. Andern. to
622
ver.
ſhift the fails, die Ses Sdiffézimmermann,
gelumſeßen, anders ftels Schiffbauer.
len. 2) V. N. lio år: Shírt S. das Hemde.
dern. the wind ſhifts. Shivering S. das Schau:
3) fich au helfen ſuderi. ern, ein Sdauer.,
by Chifting for himſelf. Shock S. der Stoß.
Shift S. ein mit Mübe to Shóck V. 4. an etwas
verbundener Perſudy, to noßen.
make a ſhift, lid ben Shócking Part. anitobig.
miben.
garſtig a ſhocking fight,
to Shine V. N. rorinen. ein empórender Unblid.
the ſun ſhines. 2) glån: Shoe S. ein Sduh.
zen, ſchimmern. they Shoemaker, S. ein Sdubs
ſhone like poliſhed file mnacher, Souſter.
Shóne Part. 1. Impr. v.
Shine S. der Sdein, to ſhine.
Glanz. Sun • ſhine. Shook Impf. v. to Chake.
Moon ſhine.
to Shoot V. U. (dießen
Shining Part. glänzend. 2) V. N. a beam ſhot
Ship S. das Schiff. through, — ein Strabit
Ship builder S. ein Schiffe fchoß duro.
·bauer.
Shóp S. eine Werfſtatt.
Ship - building S. der a ſmith's ſhop, eine
Schiffbau.
Schmiede.
Ship-wreck S. der Schiff Shore S. das Seeufer ,
'bruc).
die Stufe. to go on
to ſhip - wreck. V. N. Chorc - an Land geben,
Soiffbruch leiden. Chip anden.
wrecked ein Schiffbrüs Short adj. 1. Adv. furg.
diger.
In a ſhort time, in furs
Ship • wright S. ein sem. to ſtop ſhort ,
A
623
fille fleben. .in ſhort, mein sc.
furg.
to Shoirt (ſp. ſchaut) V.
to Shórten . A. fúrgen, N. laut aufførepen por
abfúrgen, verkürzen. 2) Freude, jauchzen.
V. N. fúrger werden, Shout S. das Jaudogen,
abnebmen.
Freudenger@rep.
Shortly 908. in furzer Shouting S. wie das oor:
Zeit. Bald.
to Show (fp. ſchoh) V.
Short - fighted Adj. furze . zeigen, weiſen, res
fidtig - Don Geſicht u. ben laſſen.
Verſtande.
Shower (fp. Schau'r) Š.
Shót Part. 4. Impf. 4. ein plöhlider Regen,
to ſhoot.
. ein Sdauer, Guß.
Shót S. der Souß, das shown Part. D. to Chow.
Sdießen. 2) das 96: to Shrink V. N. ſich zu:
Beldorfene, als Kugeln, fammenzieben. 2) fid
Scroot, letteres beißt vor etwas entreten. to
ſmall ſhot.
ſhrink back, qurückweis
to Shóve V. A. fchieben. Den vor Entſeßen.
Shóvel S. eine Sbaufel. Shrub S. eine Staude,
to Shóvel V. 4. mit der ein Strauch.
Scaufel werfen, roaw. Shrúnk Impf. D. to ſhrink.
i to Shudder V. N. einen
Should Impf. 9. Chall, Schauder empfinden,
route. I ſhould, id wurs chaudern.
de. we ſhould, wir to Shuín V. A. meiden,
wurden.
Rieben.
Shoulder (ſp. ſchohlder). to Shut V. U, gumaden,
S. die Soulter. 2) das verfoließen. to ſhut up,
Vorderviertel, der Bug verſperren.
bep Soafen, Håms Shy adj. fapew.
feln.
624
Sick adj. frant, bel, blide. To get fight of
nicht wohl, to fall fick, áthing, etwas zu Ge.
franf werden. he grew fichte befommen. to loſe
fick , xeş wurde ibm åbel. fight of a thing, etwas
Síckle S. die Sidiel. aus dem Geſigte, aus
Sickly. Adj. frånflid, den Augen verliehren.
romachlids.
to have a full fight of a
Síckneſs S. die Stranfheit. thing, etwas ganz über.
Side G. die Seite eines reben fónnen.
Dinges. the ſide of a Sighted. ſhort fighted ,
hill, der ubhang. Sea kurzfidtig.
fide, die Stiiſte. near the Sign S. ein Zeiden.
road. fide, om Wege, to sign V. U. zeidinen,
an der Landſtrafe. 2) bezeidnen. 2) unters
die entgegengeſetzten Beidhnen, unterſchreiben.
Ibeile. on both fides, Signal S. ein Signal, die
auf beiden Seiten. - Soſung.
Siège (ſp. fihdſch) S. die Signification S. die Be
Belagerung.
deutung.
Siève cip. fiw) S. ein to Signify V. X. andeus
Sieb.
ten.bedeuten. the points
to Síft V. A. Rieben, vers fignify the ſand - banks,
mittelft des Siebes reis what does it fignify?
nigen.
. ..was bedeutet das?
to Sigh (ſp. ſey) V. N. Silence S. das Stilfohweis
reufzen.
gen. 2) die Stille. a
Sigh S. der Seufzer.. deep ſilence. 3) Silen.
Sighing S. das Seufzen. ce ,' als Interjection.
Sight Sidas Gefidt. 2) Still! Soweig!
das Seben. at the firſt silent adj. roweinend. 2)
light, beym erſten uns ftil.
625
Silently Adv. in der Stils abrengen.
le, ohne Geräuſc. Single 2dj. einzig. 2) eins
Silly Udj. einfältig, dumm. deln.
Sílver S. Silber t o Single (out.) V. U abs
Símilar adj. åbnlich.
fundern.
Simple adj. einfade, eins Singular Adj. einfad. 2)
3e1n. 2) funftlog
Wunderlid, feltrama
Simpleton. S. ein einfülls Singularift S. der Sons
tiger Tropf. ein Pinſel. Derling.
Simplícity S. die Einfalt. Singulárity S. die Son-
Einfachbeit.
derbarfeit, Seitenbeit.
Sin S. die Sünde. 10 Sink Þ. N. ſinfen. bis
Since Adv. reit dem. 2) ſoul was 'ready to ſink
vor. long ſince, roon witbin him. Das Herz
lange. ſome time ſince, wollte ihm breden.
vor einiger Zeit. Sír S. ein ebrerbietiger
Since Conj. weil, indem Ausdruf um eine männ,
da.
lide Perſon anjureden,
Sincere adj. aufridtig Herr !..
redlid.
to Sít V. N. figen. to fit
Sincéitely Udv. auf eine down, ſich niederleben.
redlide art. If you fin. Situated Adj. gelegen,
cerely repent, wenn deis fregend.
ne Reue aufridtig ift. Situation S. die Lage. 2).
Sincérity S. die Aufrido der Zuſtand.
tisfeit.
Síx adj. redos.
to Sing V. 4. 4. N. fin. Sixteenth 401. der re$$.
gen. the birds ſung their debite.
morning-lays, he ſung Sixth Adj. der rediste.
with a loud voice. Sixty Adj. ſechzig.
to Singe V. 4. ſengen, Size S. die Große, Lange
(40)
626
2) die Gefialt
folagen
Skétch. S. ein Entwurf, to Sláp V. 4. mit der flas
Pine Zeichnung.
den and rolagen.
Skill S. die Geldidlich. Slàve S. ein Sklave.
Feit, Fertigkeit in einer Slavery S. Silaverep.
Sade.
to Slay V. A. todirolagen,
to Skim P. N. leicht über erſchlagen. ,
etwas binfahren. the to Sleep U. N. rolafen.'
ball ſkimmed along the 2) V. 4. verſchlafen.ro
ſurface of the water, ſleep away the ſultry
die Stugel ſtreifte siber hours.
die Oberflåde din. Sleepy Adj. rahldferią.
Skin S. die Haut. 2) die Sleeve S. der Uermël.
Baut.
Slénder adj. dúnn, bieg
to Skín V. A. die Haut ram, ſchlanf.
abziehen.
Slept Impf. 4. Part. V.
Skinner S. ein Weisger: to ſleep.
ber.
Slice S. eine Schnitte,
Skírt S. der Scooß ei- ein abgefdnittenes fila-
nes Kleides. 2) das En: des Stúd.
ide, Peúſierfte eines je, Slight Adj. důnife. 2)
den Dinges. the ſkirt rawach, unbedeutend.
of a wood. 'Das Vors Slightly adp. obenbin,
bolj.
unbedeutend..
to Skream ». f. (cream. to Slip V. N. ausglit:
Sky S. der Himmel, der foen, bis foot llipt, er
* Luftraumi - Glitrate quo.
to Sláck auch to Slake ». Sloop S. eine Sdaluppe,
2. löſchen. lime, Stall eine Art fleiner " See:
Torden.
. ſehiffe.
Slain Part. yon to llay er. Slow Adj, langſam.
687
Slowly Adv. auf eine langs Smooth j. ebet, glatt.
Some Urt i lanafam. listo Smooth V. A. glatt,
work went ſlowly an, eben naden.
batie feinen ſonderliden Snare S. eine Siblinge.
Fortgang.
10 Snatch V. A. ergreifen,
Sluímber 5. der Soluins ervaſchen, erwilden.
mer i leiſe Soluf. Snow. S. der Schnee as
Sly Adj. ſchlau, verfolas driven fuow. wie der
gen.
i gefallene Schnee..
Småll adj. Fleirt. 2) u11s Snuff S. Der eonupfto:
bedeut: nd, gerinn.
barf.
Small - [hot S. Corot So Adv. ro. why ſo ? war's
zum Schießen.
um das ?
Smáttering S. eine reichte to Soak V. N. wriden.
geringe Stenntniß. he to Soar V. N. fid in die
had gotten a linattering Hine erheben, obre
of the engliſh, Er bat: merflide Brmenung der
te einen flrinen Anfang Fligel : wird birr von
mit dem Engliſden ge: dein Flume der Riegen:
miact
den Firme gebraudt:
to Smell V. 4. u. N. ries they ſoar above the wa.
chen.
ter.
Sméli S. der Berud. to Sób V. N. laut wei:
to Smile v. N. ldcbeln. nend feufgen, fdluds
Sniling S. das Licheln. gen.
Smith S 0. Somid. Sober Adj. mäßig.
Smoke S. der Raud. Sobrtery S. Mäßigfeit,
to Smoke, Smoak V. N. Nüchternbeit.
rauchen. 2) Tobad raus Sociableneſs S. Geſelliga
cen. 3) V. 4. raus feit.
dern. to ſmoke meat. Social adj. geſellig, ges.
628
rellſchaftlid.
gende Bitte.
Society S. die Geſellſchaft. Solícitous udj. ångſtlid
Sódi S. der Raſen. 2) befiimmert, unruhig.
die Erdrholle.
Sólid udj. feft, dauerhaft.
Sóft Adj. weich, ranft. 2) dicht. Solid gold ges
to Sóften V. 4. weid), diegenes Gold.
ranft machen. 2) mil. Sólitary udj. abgelegen,
dern, belånftigen, vera einſani. a ſolitary walk.
ruißen.
Sólitude S. die Einſanis
Sóſtly Adv. ſanft, gelinde. feit
Sóftneſs' S. Milde, Sanft: Sóme udj. einiges, einige.
muth. 2) Weichlichfeit. ſome hundred miles. In
Sóil S. der Boden, der ſome meaſure, gewiſſer's
Grung.
blaßen.
to Sólace V.4. erguiden. Sóme - body Jemand.
he ſolaced himſelf. Sóme-how udv. auf irs
Soldier (ſp. lohldſcher) gend eine Art.
5. ein Soldat. Sóme-thing S. Etwas.
Sole S. die Sobre, ſo. Sóme-times Adv. zuweilen.
wobl am Fuße als am Sóme-what etwas, eini-
Sdube.
ses.
Sole adj. einzis, allein. Sóme-where udv. irgend
Solely Adv. einzig, allein. wo.
Sólemn Adj. feyerlic. Són S. der Sohn.
Solémnity S. die feyerli- Sóng S. ein Gefang, lied,'
de Wirde, der Ernſt, Gedicht.
Soon Adv. furz nadber,
to Solícit (ip. fohliſlit) V. bald, geſchwinde.
4. anhaltend bitten, Soop S. eine Suppe,
verlangen.
... Brube.
Solicitation S. die drins to Sooth . 4. verſüßen,
629
2) beránftigen.
Sound S. der Kilang,
Sorcerer S. ein Heren: Soall, Ton.
meiſter, Zauberer. to Sound P. A. fondiren,
Sorcereſs S. eine Here, unterſuchen.
Bauberinn.
to Sound P. N. lauten,
Söre Adj. wund. ſore eyes. fallen, Flingen, tonen.
bore, rolimme Augen. Soitr udj.' fauer, lour
Sorely Adv. romerzbaft. milk. :
Sorely grieved romerzs Source (fps. ſohrs) S. die
lid betrübt.
Duelle.
Sórrow S. Stummer, Bes South S. die mittågige
trübniß.
Gegend, Süden.
Sórrowful u0j. traurig, South Adj, the South-ſea,
betrübt, elend.
das Sudmeer, das fille
Sorry 40. befümmert. Meer,
I am ſorry of it, es iſt South-eaſt Südoft.
mir reyd. He was not South - weſt Súdweſt.
ſorry, Es verdroß, ges to sow V. 4. fåen, bes
reute ihn nicht.
ſåen.
Sórt S. eine Art, Gato Space S. der Raum.
| tung
Spacious 40j, geräumig.
Sovereign S. der falls Spade S. ein Spaden,
desberr.
ein Grabfcheit.
Saught (pp. ſaht) Impf. Spíniard S. ein Spaniet.
4. Part. D. to ſeek. Spániel S. ein Pudel,
Soul (fp. fohl) S. die Waſſerbund.
Seele.
Spaniſh adj. ſpaniſd.
Sound (ſp. ſaund) adj. ges to Spåre V. ¥. ſparen,
ſund: 2) ridtig, ver: erſparen. 2) fchonen,
nünftig. a ſound jud. Verſdonen, Spare his
gement.
life, Leben friſten. 3)
630
erübrigen. I could have He was ſpent with fa-
fpared ſo much time. tigue. 3) Zeit verwens
4) etwas entbehren fón:
nen. He ſpared it from he fpent eight days at
his own mouth, er ent: this work. lie ſpent liis
309":28 reinem eigenen time n running about,
Munde.
mit Herumlaufen.
Spark S. ein Funke. Spónt Part. 4. Impf. v.
Lo Sparkle V. N. funfelll. 10 fpend.
Spatter daslies S. Pl. les Spice S. das Gewürz.
derne Camaiden. Spider S, die Spinne.
10 Speak v. 4. N. (pres to Spill V. A. vergieſſen,
den.
verroutien.
Spear S. ein Spieß, lo Spín V. 4. fpinnen.
Speer.
Spinner S. der Spinner,
Spécies S. die Art, Gats die Spinnerinn,
tung – of my own ſpe- Spirit (ſp. (pirrit) S. ein
cies – ein Weſen mei: Geiſt, ein Geſpenſt. 2)
ner Art.
im Plur. die Lebensgeia
Spécification S. ein Ver's Ber.
zeichniß, gliventarium. Spíritleſs "01. muthios,
Spéciacle S. ein Soau: niedergeldlagen. :
ſpiel, Anblick.
Spit S. ein Bratſpieß.
Spectator S. ein Zu: to Spít V. A. an den
rihauer. -
Bratſpieß ſteden.
Speed S. die Hurtigkeit, Spite S. in ſpite of, trobe
Eile, Eilfertigfeit. to ungeastet. in ſpite of
make ſpeed. eileli. their united firenght.
to Spend V. 4. verzebren, Splendour S. der Gla!!
erropfen 2) abmatten, Prad)t. Silinmer.
an fträften críodpfen. to Split D. 4. ſpalten.
631
Split S. eine Spalte, Ribe. ground. 2) V. 4. to
to Spóil V. 4. N. verders ſpring a leak, eine Led
ben.
befomnieni, led werden;
Spoke Impf. 3. to ſpeek. von den Soiffen.
Spoken Part. D. to ſpeak. Spring S. der Frühling.
Spoon S. ein Löffel. 2) eine Quelle.
Sport S. ein Spiel, eine Spring - Water S. Quells
Luſtbarfeit. for ſport's waſſer.
ſake, zur Luft, qum Zeit: to Sprinkle V. 4. ftreuen.
vertreiber zum Spaß. the ſprinkled his meat
Sportingly adv. fderobafs over witli Salt, er te.
terweiſe.
firructe f. Fleild mit
Spót S. ein Plaß, Ort, Salgo
Stelle. upon the ſpot. Spring Part. u. Impf; to
auf dem Plafe.
ſpring
Spout S. eine Ribre í Spín Part. 4. Impf. D.
Rinne. 2) a water (pout to ſpin. ?
ein Wolfenbrud. Spur. S. ein Sporn. fig.
to Spràwl V. N. jappeln. Antrieb. Nei.
he laid him (prawling to Spy V. A. entdeden,
in the ſand.
wahrnehmen. 2) aus,
to Spread V. A. ausbreis fundraeften, ausſvů.
ten, qusdebneni qus: ren.
einander ſtreuen, mit Square udj. vieredig.
abroad u.out. 2) V. N. Squire Sorin Winfelwias.
ſich ausbreiten, fic vers to Square V. 4. vieredig
breiten.
maden, behauen, -
Sprightlineſs Munterfeit. 8. 6. einen Balken. -
Lebhaftigfeit.
to Square bricks.
to Spring V. N. ſpringen. to Squeeze V. 4. quets
to ſpring out of the iden, preſſen, auspreſ:
632
ren, ausdricen. ren Augen reben, ftar-
to Stágger. V. N. taumeln. ren.
Staid Impf. D. to ſtay. Starry (Tp. fiary) adj. mit
to Stàin . u. beneden. Sternen berert. the ſtar-
ſtained with blood. mit ry canopy of heaven,
Blut befudelt.
daß geſtirnte Himmels-
Ståke. S ein Pfahl. gewilbe, der geſtirnte
Stairs S. plur. eine Trep. Himmel.
pe, Stufe.
to Stárt V. N. ſtůben. 2)
Stalk (fx. ftahk) S. der mit up, plóklid) auffah-
Stångel, Stiel, Helm. ren, aufſpringen. 3)
Stall S. der Stall,
plotzlid bervorſoieſſen.
to Stámp V. A. ftampfen a tear ſtarted from his
mit den Füßen, eine eyes. 4) fick erheben,
Steule, Stampfe oder fich zeigen. ſome new
andern Werfzeuge. they obſtacle fiarts in view,
ſtamp it out with their ein neues Hinderniß
elbows.
zeigt ſich.
to. Stand V. N. ftehen. to to Startle. V. N. ftudis
ſtand on end, zu Ber: werden, erfahreden. 2)
ge ſtehen. 2) rich in eis V. 4. roreden, in
niem gewiſſen Zuſtande Furot repell. .
befinden. to ſtand in to Stárve V. N. with
need of a thing, etwas hunger, verhungern.
nothig baber, bedürfen, State S. der Zuſtand, die
brauchen. 3) a ſhip liands Berdaffenbeit. 2) drin
in for an Illand. ein Staat. miniſter of ſtate,
Sdiff regelt auf eine der Staatsminiſter.
Inſel zu.
to Siày V. N. in einem
Stár (ſv. liar) S. der Stern. Orte oder Zuſtande bleis,
to Stare V. N. mit ftar: ben, verweilen. to fiay
633
with his parents“, ben · ſtep to a place, he fiept
reinen Weltern bleiben. out, up, back, behind
he could not ſtay in it, the hedge etc.
er konnte es nicht darin Stép S. ein Scritt, Tritt.
aushalten.
2) die Stufen einer
Stay S. der Aufenthalt. Treppe. 3) Der Fußfias
Suéad laft Adj. feft, unbes pfen.
weglich.
Stépt Impf v. to fiep.
Steadfaſily adv. unerſchüts Stérn S.der hintere Theil
terlid. his eyes were des Schiffes wo ſich das
• fteadfaſily fixed, feſt ges Steuerruder befindet,
beftet.
der Stern, a ftern. von
to Sičal V. . ſteblen. hintenber.
Steel S. Stall. 2) ein Steward (ſp. Stjuörd) S.
Feuerſtall. . : Haushofmeiſter. High-
Steep Adj. ſteil, jibe' fteward of the house
to Steep. » 4. einweichen. bold, Dherhofmeiſter.
Stèeple. S. der Stirds Stick S. ein Stað, Stefs
tburni, Glodenthurm. felli, Stange. 2) Stúd
to Stèer V. N. ſteuern. Baubolz. 3) ein Steds
2) V. 4. mit dem Accuf. ling von einer Pflange
to fiear his courſe, reis to Stick V. u. teden. 2)
nen Lauf nehmen. V. N. Neder, it ſtuck
Stèerage S. der vintere ſo faſt, es ftedte ro feſt.
Tbeil eines Sdiffes , Stiff adj. ſteif, unbiega
wo das Steuer iſt, der fam , ftarr.
Steuerraum, Sterii. to Stifle (fp. ſteiff'l) V.
S:óm 6. per $ta than, a. erft raten to tiiffo
Sténch. S. der Geſtanf. the blood, das Blut
to Stép V. N. geben im fiüenj.
Schritte, loreiten. 10 Still 40. bio jet 100,
634
noo, immer.
ror had taken away his
Suíll Adj. ftil, 1) ohne ftomack , batte ihm den
Bewegung. he ſtood fiill, Appetit benommen..
2) ohne Gerdurch, rubig. Stone S. ein Stein. a
Stillneſs S. die Stille, precious fione, ein
Nube. the ſtillneſs of Edelſtein.
the night.
Stone 4dj. feinern.
to Sting V. 4. Recen. Stone - knife ein feinernes
Suing S. der Stachel. Meſter.
to Sur ». A. regen, in Stone - wedge ein ſteiners
Bewegung reßeiz. to fiir mer steil.
a maſs , umrühren. 2) Stood (ſp. fiudd) Impf.
V. N. fid regen, ſich v. to ſtand.
rühren. he did not ftir to Stóp. V. 4. hemmen,
from the place, er aufhalten. he diopt him
rubrie șidi nidyt von der from falling down, er
Stelle. .
hinderte ibn am Faden.
Stóck S. ein Stod, Blod. 2) flopfen, verſtopfen.
the ſcutching-liocks, die 3) V. N. stille tieben,
Bode, Flacho. Hanfs fieben bleiben. he fiopt
bode. (prov. - flatt Short, - he fiopt here,
Bodmible. 2) ein Vor: bier bielt er inne, bir:
rath. a great linck of te auf.
knowledge. (große Ge: Stóp S. Stillſtand to
lebrſamfeit) viele It'ennt. make a ſtop, file bals
niſſe.
ten. to put a ſtop to a
Siócking S. der Strumpf.' thing, einem Dinge pin
Stole Impf. . to fteal. Ende machen. :
Stómach S. der Magen. Stópped das reg. u. ftópt
his empty ſtomach. 2) das irregul. Imperf von
Luft zu eſſen. ihe ter- to fiop.
635
Store S. eine Menge to Stránd V. Ni auf den
ein Vorrath. a fiore Strand gerathen, frans
houſë, ein Magazin. den.
Stórn S. der. Oturm. 2) Strange Udj. ſeltſani, rons
fin. to lake liis calile by derbar, auſſerordentlid.
form, ed. miit fúrmen: Strànger S. ein Fremder.
der Hand, mit Sturm, to be a ſiranger to fear.
einnebmen.
feine Juridt fennen.
Stórmy 401. ftúrmild to Strángle . 4. eritifs
Stúry S. das Stofwerf. fen, erdrotein.
Sivry 6. ſtatt hifiory, die Stráragem S. eine Striego:
Geluidte, dui Be: lili.
raidroen, Erzählung. 10 Sirèam V. N. ftromen,
Stout 401. ſtart, rúltig. a rinnen.
fiunt young fellow, Streer S. die Straße.
ein junger, rúſtiger Stréngbi S. die Stirfe ,
Burrde.
Straft.
Suure. S. pin Stubenofen. to Sirénghtien V. 4. När:
LU tuw. V A. an den ges fell
origen Ort legen. to Stretch D. 4. ftreden,
to Strággle V. N. umber: ausſtrecken. his wearied
ſtreifell.
limbs, i. milden Stie:
Strággling S. das Her: der aufſtrecfen, his hand..
umitreifen. :
2) to liretch out, als
Stràight Adj. Gerade, V. n. fic erſtreifen.
rolanf.
Strict adj. geriau firict
Straight oder
obedience, ftrenger Se:
Suait. S. die Enge' borfam.
Sirait of Calais. Stride S. ein Soritt,
Struud o der Strand , to Strike D. 4. filagen,
die Stufte.
. flopjen. he dick hus
656
meat , bauen. with his Strongly udv. fråftig,
hatchet. to ſtrike hands, nachdrúcflid.
fic die Hand woraufges Strove Impf. . to ſtrive.
ben. 2) V. N. rolagen. Strick Impf. 16. part. v.
the lightening firuck in to firike. with Confu-
to the tree. 3) to ſtrike fion, beſchåmt. with an
upon a Canit-bank, von idea. proglich auf einen
Schiffen, auf den Sano Gedanken fommen.
gerathen, ſtranden. to Struggle V. N. ſich zer:
String S. ein Sonur, arbeiten. 2) ſtreiten.
ein Band.
he firuggled with death,
to String v. 4. to ſtring fåmpfte mit dem Dode.
beans, Bobnen abzieben Struggle S. der Stampf,
(prov.)
Streit der Neigung. 2)
to Strip V. A. die Bes Widerſetzlich feit. with-
dedung nemen, 2) rid out firuggle, ohne Wi:
auskleiden mit off. 3) derſtand.
der Schale berauben. Stuck Impf: v. to fiick.
he fiript off the bark , to Study V. N. auf etwas
rollte die Rinde ab. donfen, finnen.“
ped linen.
- der Stoff.
to Strive V. N. ſtreben, to Stuff V. 4. ſtopfen.
reine Kräfte anſtrengen. to Strin V. 4. betduben.
Stroke S. ein Streid. 2) beftiirst maden.
Solag. a ſtroke of for- String Impf. y. to fiing.
tune, Unglücksfall. Stupefaction S. Betdu.
to Stroke V. 4. ſtreicheln. bung, Beſtürzung.
Strong udj. ſtarf, måcha Stupid udj. dumm.
tig, firong liquors, bißis Stupidity S. die Dummis
ge Getränke.
beit.
63.7
to Stutter V. N. ftottern. Siibftitute. S. Stellvers
with a ſtuttering voice, treter.
mit ſtotternder Stimme. Subterráneous 20. unters
Subject Adj. unterworfen. irdiſc.
subject to error, dem to Succeed, V. N. folgen.
Irrthum unterworfen, one another ,, nac fola
febibar.
gen. 2) in etwas glücks
Subject S. der untertban. lid feyn. he ſucceeded
Subjection S. die Unter: in his endeavours. 3)
werfung. .
gelingen. it ſucceeded.
Sublime adj. body, erha: Succeſs S. ein Erfolg,
ben.
glúdiider Ausgang.
Submiſſion 5, die unter: Succeſsful adi glúdlich.
werfung, Ergebung in Succeſſion S. die Folge.
den Wilen eines ans of the days. der Ver.
dern.
folg der Tage. .
to Submít v. 4. unter: Succéſfive adj. in' their
werfen. 2) V. N. fid ſucceſſive order, nad
unterwerfen. to the will der Reibe.
of Providence.
Succeſſively adv. auf ein,
to Subſide B. N. the wa- anderfolgend, eins nach
ters ſubſided, das Wass dem andern.
Per fiel, nabm ab, vers Suích Pron Polch. Such a
noiſe. -
to Sublífi V. N. befteben. to Srick V. A. 4. N. ſaus
2) zu leben baben. to gen. to fuck out, aus.
ſublift on a thing, fich raugen.
wovon nifren. Sudden Adj. proglid, uns
Subliſtence S. die Forts erwartet.
dauer. 2) der Unterbalt, Suddenly du: plötlich!
die Lebensmittel. unpermutbet.
lief.
630
d) en.
to Suffer Ý. U. N. Teiden, to Suit V. N. rašten, an.
ausſieben. 2) ertragen, gemelten, reichlich reyn.
erdulden. 3) geſchenen 2) V 4. mit dem Accus
laffen. which he ſufo ratiro. to ſuit one's pa-
fer’d to periſh, weldie late, iemandes Gaumen
er umfom.men ließ. (uf argprehin reyn, ihm
fer io think.
romecfen. it ſuited their
Sullerance S. Schmerzen) firength, mar ihren
ingemad.
Stråfren angemesen.
Suífferer S. ein leidender. Suitable adj. paßlich, gu's
theſe poor fullerers , miß.
dieſe armen Unglücklis Sillen adj. unglücklid,
i foddlich.
Suíffering S. das Leident, Sultry Adj. rawúl.
Ungemad, Comerzen. Sum S. die Summe. ,
10 fuffice V. N. bintang. Summer S. der Sommer.
lid) ſeyn, zureichen. Suímmer-clothes S. Soni:
Sufficient adj. hinlänglich, merileider.
zureichend.
Summit S. der Giufel.
Suflíciently udy. rattram, to Srímmon V. . 011
binlånglid.
up, auffordern. helam-
Sügar (ſp. ſchujär) S. dein moned ' up all bris
Zucer.
ftrength, er bot alle .
Sugar - càne S. das Zuk: Strofte auf.
ferrobr. '
Sun S. die Sonne.
to Suggéſt. V. A., in den Sun - beam S ein Sons
Cinn neben, eingeben, nenſtrabl
bendringen.
Színday S. Sonntas.
Siit (ſp. ſjuht) S. ein Sring Impf. w to ſing,
stleid. sa ſuit of clothes, Svín - riſe s. der Aufgang
ein ganger Anzus. der Sonne.
639
Suín - Chine S. der Sons to ſupply a want, einen
; nenſchein
Bedúriniife abbelfen 2)
Superfluity S. der Ueber pines andern Dinges
fluß.
Stelle vertreten. to ſup-
Supérfluous 40;. iber: ply his place. 3) daro
flubig..
reiden, geben.
Superior Adj, dober. 2) Support S. die Stüße,
überlegen, mit to. Unterſtügung. 2) der
Superior S. ein Vorges Unterhalt, die Noobs
refter, Oberer.
durft.
Superiority S. die Uebers to Support V. 4. unters
legenbeit. 2) Herts ftißen, beygteben. 2)
roaft, Gewalt.
ernáhren, unterbalten.
Supernatural adin übernas Supportable adj. ertrags
türlich.
fid, Iridlid.
Superſtition G. der über: Supporter Š. die Untres
glaube.
ftigung, Beyſtand.
Superftitious adj. abers to Suppoſe V. A. etmas
gläubig.
als wahr annehmen,
Suípper S. die Abendmahls vorausſeßen. Suppoſe !
geit, das uuendeſen. gerett! — 2) glauben,
Supplicant S. ein demüthig meynen - Vermuthen. his
Bittender, ein Suppli- ſuppoſed happineſs, rei-
cant.
ne vermeynte. Glice:
to Suípplicate V. 4. Alem figfeit. .
hentlich bitten. in a Suppoſition S. die Vors
fupplicating, poliure, in auslegung.
einer bittenden Stels to Suppréſs' V. 4. unter:
lung.
drůden, niederdruiden.
to Supply V. A. den Mans ſupprefi by griefe de:
gel einer Sade erregen. beugt von Kummer:
640
Supreme Adj. der höchſte, Surpriſingly Udv. quf di:
vornebinfte.
ne überraſchende wun:
Sire adj. gewiß. I am, derbare Art.
ſure, ich bin verſidert. to to Surrender V. N. ſidy
be ſure ! gewiß, ja ergeben.
freilid. 2) be ſure to to Surroind V. 4. umges
truſt in God, vertraue ben, einſchlieffen.
vor allen Dingen auf to Survey (pp. Curweh)
Gott.
; V. 4. überleben.
Sùre . gewiß, obne to Survive V. A. N. ůber
Zweifel.
leben.
Surely adv. gewiß, fiders Surviver S. der Ueberle:
lid.
vende.
Siirety S. die Siderheit. to Suſpect V. &. argwöls
Surface S. die Dverflåche. nem's befirdten, ein
Surmiſe S. die Vermius Mißtrauen in etwas
tbung.
regen.
to Surmount . . úbers Suſpected Adj. verdidtig.
ſteigen. ,
Suſpenſe S. die Ungewißs
to Surpaſs V. 4. übertref- beit.
fen.
Suſpicion S. der Args
Surpriſe S. Beſtúrzung, wohn, Verdadır.
Soreden, Heberra: Suſpicious adj. argwobs
rdung.
niſch. 2) verdidrig.
to Surpriſe P. . überra: to Suftain V. A. erfalten,
ſchen. 2) erſtaunt mau unterbalten.
den, in Erſtaunen reben. Suíftenance S. die Unters
to be ſurpriſed, erſtau fißung, Unterbaltung,
nen.
Ernährung Unterhalt.
$urpriſing adj. erſtaunlid), to Swallow (ſp ſwallo) V.
wunderbar.
41. berunterſchluden, vers
641
foludest. ſhe could not Swiftneſs S. die Schnelle,
[wallow any thing, ſ. Hurtigkeit, Belohnine
fonnte nidts berunter's digfeit.
bringen. 2) mit up, to Swim ». N. owym-
von einem Abgrunde, men.
verfølingen. ſwallow'd Swimming S. DAB
up by the waves.
Shwimmen.
Swám Impf. von to ſwim. Swízzerland S. die
10 Swéar V. N. ſchwören. Soweiß.
Svéat Sider Schweiß. the Swollen Part. . to ſwell.
deadly ſweat, der 20: Swoon (ip. [wuhn) S.
desſchweiß.
die Dinmacht. he fell in.
to Sweat V. N. rd wißen. to a (woon.
2) powißend machen. to Sword (ſp. fohrd) 5. das
[weat the ſkins, die Gemert. Der Denen.
Håute zum Schwißen Swore Impf. v. to ſwear.
bringen.
Syllable S. eine Silbe:
Sweepings S. Plur. daß Sympathiſe ». N Mitleis
Stebridit, die ausgefego den empfinden.
ten Saden.
Sweet 20. ſüß, angenehm. Sympathy S. das Mitges
full, Mitleiden, Soms
to Swéll V. N. rowellen,
aufrorrellen. 2) P. 2. Patbie.
aufrowellen maden. Symptom (ſp. fimmton)
when the wind (welled S. ein Zufall in einer
the fails, als der Wind Stranfbeit. 2) ein Zei.
die Segel fchwelte. den, eine Anzeige.
Swift 201. onell, hurtig. Sympton of life.
Sampathy S. das Mitges
(41)
642
Table (ſp. tehb'l) S. ein It will take up much
Diſeb. 2) eine Tafel time, es mird viel Zeit
zum Schreiben. . wegnehmen. to be taken
Tail S.rder Somang. with a thing, womit
Tailed #dj. a long tailed beſchäftigt ſeyn, ſich ſebyr
ape ein langeſch mång: worin vertiefen.
ter Uffe.
* Tale S. eine Erzállung,
Tailor S. ein Schneider. Gerdichte, Mården.
to Taint V. N. anfangen to Talk (ſp. talik) V. N.
--Bu faulen. the meat was ; reden, ſprechen, fchwag-
already tainted. war zen, plaudern.
ſoon in Fåulniß über: Tall Tp.tahl) adj. lang,
gegangen.,
vod, groß.
to Tàbe V. U. nelmen, Tállow. S. Talg. Thiers
wegnehmen. to take lea- fett.
ve, Abrabied nehmen. Táme udj. zahm.
he took his aim, er to Tame V. 4. zdhmen,
zielte. to take a walk , zahm maden.
a tour, a journey, ein Tán S. Gerberlohe. (zers
Spaziergang, Reife vors ftoßene Baumrinde.) :
nehmen. to take place, Tánner S. ein Longerber.
Statt finden. to take a Tán-pit S. die Lobgrube,
thought, einen Gedan: Sowißgrube. .
Pen faffen. to take fire, to Táp. V. A. einen fanfo
Fever fangen. to be ta- ten Schlag mit der Hand
ken ill, frank werden. geben. -
to take the advantage , Tártar S. ein Tartar.
den Vortheil, die Ges' (aſiatiſches Voll.)
legenheit wahrnemen. Tálk S. Arbeit, Beſchäfs
:
643
tigung.
Tėdiouſneſs S. Verdruß,
to Tàfte V: 4. värſuden, lichfeit, Langweilig feit.
foſten. 2) V. N. vineri Teeth plur. v. tooth.
Gerdmad babeni romel, Téleſcope S. ein Fernrohr,
fen. .
Telesfop:
Tàfte 5. der Geſihmad. to Téll D. 4. n. fagen,
Täfteleſs udj. geſchmad: erzählen...
los, unromacbaft. Témperance S. Måßig-
Taught (ſp. taht) gmpf. Peit, Enthaltſamfeit.
u. Part. von to teach. Témperate adj. mäßig,
Tawny adj. gelb , lobs gemäßigt. .
farbig. 1). von der gelbs Témpeft. S. Der Sturm,
braunen Geſichtsfarbe Ungewitter.
der Einmobner der weſt. Témple. S. ein Tempel.
· indiſden Inſeln. to Témpt V. A. reißen, .
Tax. S. eine Auflane. . verſuchen, in Verſus
Tea Cip.tib) Si der Thee. dung führen. to be
a diſh of tea, eine Taſſe tempted to imagine bei:
Thee.
· nabe auf den Gedanken
Tèa - Cup S. eine Ehees gerathen.
talle..
i Temptation S. die Ver.
to Teach V. U. lebren, ſudung.
unterrichten.
Tén Adj. gebn.
Teacher S. ein febrer. Ten times zehnmal.
Tèar S. die Zbrane. to Ténd V. N. zielen, ab.
to Téar V. 4. zerreifen, zielen.
reiſſen. to tear to pieces. Tender Adj. mirbe. 2)
to Téaſe V. 4. qudlen, gart. from his tender
beldftigen überlaufen. youth, von jarter finds
Tedious adj. langweilig, ". beit an.
låſtig.
Tenderly udv. gårtlid.
6444
2) weichlich. tenderly fungen).
brought up, weichlich Téxture S. das Gewebe.
erzogen.
Thames S. die Ehemre,
Ténderneſs S. Sanftbeit ein Fluß in England.
Tenerif 8, bie ft Ce: Thán nga đem Somparat.
neriff im Weſten von ald.
Afrifa.
to Thánk V. 4. danfen.
Tént S. ein Zelt. ThánkgewohnlicerThanks
Ténth S. der Zehnte. S. der Danf. to give
to Términate V. A. ens hearty thanks, berzlich)
digen, begrånzen. danken.
Térrible adj. ſhredlid Thánkful adj. dankbar,
fürdterlid.
erfenntlich.
Térribly Udv. auf eine Thánkfully udv. dankbar:
fürchterliche Art.
lid.
to Térrify V. 4. forefs That Pron. Dieſer, diere,
fen.
dieſes jener, fene,
Térritory S. ein Stúd jenes. 2) ftatt which ,
fandes, Gebiet , Tere welder
ritorium.
That Conjunct., daß da:
Térror S. die Furcht, der mit. .
Schreden. firuck with Thatch S. ein Strohdach.
terror , von Schreden The, der beſtimmte Ar:
ergriffen.
tifel, der, die, das.
Télify V. N. 4. Bezeu: 2) bep Vergleichungen:
gen, beftdtigen, Zeuge je, deſto. the more -
reyn.
je mehr - defto.
Téſtimony S. das Zeuge Thee Pron. Perſon im
niß.
Dat. u. Acc. dir , dice
Text. S. der Tert. (im Thèir Pron. ihr, ibre.
Gegenſatz der unmers Thém Pron. Perf. in Dat.
645
1. Acc. fie, ihnen. . Etwas,, wird auch, opie
Thémſelves Pron. ſie relbſt im Deutſden, beym
fic ſelbst.
Ausdrude des Mitleids
Thén udv. dann. 2) denn, oder der Verachtung ger
daber. .
braudt. the poor thing.
Thénce 900. pon da, pon to Think P. N. denfen,
dort. from thence, das mit on 4. of an jemand,
her.
an etwas. -
Thère Adv. da, dort. There Thinking S. das Denfen.
was once, es war eins Third Adj. der Dritte.
mal.
Thirdly Adv. drittens.
Therefore Adv. deswegen. Thírfi S. der Durft.
Thereof. Adv. davon, Thirſty Adj. Durftig.
Thèreupon Adv. darauf. Thirteenth Adj. der Dreps
Thèſe Pron. Demonſtr. gebnte.
Plur. von this, dieſe. Thirtieth 30j. der drey).
Thèy Pron. Perfon. Plur. Bigfte.
fie.
Thirty adj. Dreißig.
Thick adj. did, dicht. This Pron. Demonjt. dies
Thícket S: ein dictes es fer, diere, dieſes.
buro, Didig. . Thíther adv. dorthin.
Thickneſs S. die Dide. Tho' abgefürzt flatt
Thief S. ein Dieb... though, obgleid.
Thigh (fp. igh wie ei) S. Thórn S. ein Dorn.
das Difbein, derSchen. Thórough Adv. durdigans
fel. the thigh-bone, der gig. thorough - paced
Scenfelfnoden.
husbandmen, volfortina
Thín udj. dünn, ſowac. ne, ausgelernte, geübte
Thine Pron. Dein, das Landwirtbe.
Deinige.
Thoroughly Adv. gånglio
Thing S. ein Ding, ein durdaus.
646
Thoſe Pron. Demonft. , Adv. durchaus i gang
Plur. von that, jene. hindurch.
Thou Pron. du. I to Throw V. U. werfen.
Though Eonj. obgleich, it threw him into a
doch.
conſumption, er Befam
Thought Imperf. und die Auszéttung davon,
Part. yon to think.' 2) ftoßen...
Thought S. der Gedanfe. to Thríſt' V. 4. ſtoßen,
Thoughtleſs Adj. gedana treiben, eindringen.
fenlos, unbedachtram. Thruſt. S. ein Stoß,
Thouſand adj. tauſend. Stich.
Thread S. ein Faden, der Thumb Si der Daumen.
Zwirn.
Thunder S. der Donner.
Thrèat S. die Drohúng. to Thiinder V. N. dons
to Thrèathen V. 4. Sro: 'nern.
ben, bedroben.' Thunder - clap S. ein
Three Udj. drey.
Donnerſchlag.
to Thraſh (auch 'Trach) Thunderer S. der Don:
V. 4. dreſden, auss nerer:. .
Dreſden
Thursday S. der Don.
Threw Impf. von' to nerstag. 2) als Nomen
Throw. i" Proprium von freitags.
Thrice adv. dreymal. Bater.
Thro' ftatt through Thiis 400.ro alfo..
Throat S. der Solund, Thý Pron. Dein, das Deis
die Kreble.. . nige.
Through Pråp. Durity, vers Thyſelf Pron. du ſelbſt.
i mittelſt. 2) Udv. durchs Tide S, die Fluth, das
aus', . thorough. ihon periodiſihe Anfowellen
rough paced.
der Meers, im Gegen:
Throughout Prấp. .und fab' der Ebbe.
647
Tidings S. PI. die Nach, den. . måde: machen,
ricten, Zeitung. mide werden. Tired
to The D. 4. binden, fnús Part. mit of, einer Gas
pfen, befeſtigen.
de úberdrüßige ibret
Tie S. das Band. the múde ſeyn.
ties of nature, die Dans Tireſome Adj. múbram,
de der Natur, (Verbins berowerlic.
dung unter Blutsver. 'Tis fiatt it is.
wandten.)
Title S. ein Titel.:
Tiger S. ein Tiger. To 34. to day, heute. to
Tight 40j. dict, felt morrow, morgen. 2)
ſtarf.
es dient zur. Bezeidnung
Tile S. ein Ziegelſtein des Infinitivs der Zeits
Dachſtein.
wörter und wird oft im
Till Conj. bis. till now, Deutſden nicht überfekt.
bis jellt.
Together, udo, zuratnmen.
Time S. die Zeit, the Token S. ein Zeiden,
- time to come, die zu: Merfnial.
funft. 2) nach Bahls Told Imperf. 4. Part. von
wörtern wird es durd to tell.
mal überret. tree times, Tólerable adj. erträglich,
dreymal. an hundred ci. leidlich.
mes, bundertmal. ſeve- Tolerably adv. erträglid.
ral times, verſchiedene: to Tólerate V. 4. dulden,
male.
ertragen.
Tímidity S. die Furat: Tone S. der Don. .
ramfeit, Sdůchternbeit. Tongs S. Pl. die Zange,
Tímorous 4dj. furdtiami Feuerzange.
verzagt.
Tongue S. die Zunge. 2)
Tinder S. Zunder. - die Sprade. .;
to Tire V. A. 4. N. ermů. Too 400. ju, noch dazu,
648
aud.
berabgeſchleudert.
Took Impf: 6..to take, Tólipart.u. Inipf.v.to toſs.
Tool S. ein Werfzeug. Totally udv. gånzlich i
Tooth S. der Bahn, Plur. durchaus.
teeth, the wind blew in to Touch (io.ou, wie ö)
their teeth , war ibnen . 4. berühren, anrühr
entgegen. I
ren. 2) růbren, in
Tóp S. das oberſte Ender Rührung verſehen. 3)
die Spige. the top of V. N. anſloßen, bangen
the hill, the top of his bleiben. feſtlißen.
cavern, die Dede reis Touch - hole S.das Zund:
ner Hobre
lody.
Tore Impf. v. to tear. Touch - ſtone S. ein Pro.
to Tórment ». A. quälen, bierftein.
beurtubigen. 2) inſtån: Tongh (ſp. töff) adj. záh,
dig bitten, einem 346 fteif. 2) anhaltend ber
reken.
rowerlich, låftig. a tough
Tórn Part. 3. to tear, piece of work, ein
Tórrent S. ein Wafers mübrames Stúd Arbeit.
guß, Strom. the rain Tour (ſp. tur) S. eine
ruſted down like, a fleine Reiſe. to take a
torrent, der Regen ſtürzs tour. eine Landpartoie
te ſtromweiſe berab.
maden. ;
Tórtoiſe S. Schildfrote. Tow (fp. toh.) S. Werg,
(Landroildfrote, die das Material zu den
Seeſchildfrote beißt eis Lauen i Striden %6.
gentlid turtle.). Towards Pr&p. gegen,
to Tóls V. A. beftig bes bin zu etwas.
wegen. the ſhip was Towards Adv. nahe bey,
toft up and down. das Towel (ſp. tauel) S. das
Soiff wurde hinauf und Handtuch.
649
Town S. die Stadt. tritt, die Hebertretung.
Toy S. ein Spielzeug. Tránſitory udj. vorüber:
Trace S. die Spur. gebend, Eurzdauernd.
Tráct S. a 'tract of land, to Tranſlàre Ø. 4. uber-
cin Strich Landes... reßen aus einer Sprache
Tráctable adj. leidyt zu in die andere.
lenfen. a tractable ani. Tranſlation, S. Ueberſeja
mal, ein gelebriges, jung.
folgrames Thier. Tranſpiration S. Ausdúns
Trade S. der Handel. 2) fung, Soweiß.
die Bercbaftigung, to Tranſplant V. 4. vers
Handtbierung. :
pflanzen.
to Trade V. N. bandeln, to Tranſpórt V. 4. vere
Handlung treiben. regen, entrůcen.
Tràder S. ein Handelde Tránſport S. of joy, froc
mann. a Guinea-trader, be Enteúdfung.
ein Guinefabrer.. Tràve S. die Erave, ein
Train S. ein Zug.:. raiffbarer fluß in Hols
Traitor S. ein Verråther. ftein, an welchem fiis
he proved & traitor, bed liegt, da wo er fid
wurde treulus.
in der Ditree ergießt,
Tránquil Adj, rubig, uns liegt der Ort Trave's
geſtort.
münde.
..
Tránquility S. Rube, Ges to Trável Ø. N. reiſen.
Saſſenheit.
Trável S. die Reiſe.
to Tranſcribe D. 4. ab: (gewoonlid bezeidnet man
ſchreiben. .
durd dieſes Wort eine
to Tranfgreſs V. A. úbers Landreiſei eine Seereiſe
fobreiten, übertreten, beißt denn voyage.)
(eine Borrorift, Geſell.) Tráveller S. ein Kriſen:
Tranſgreſſion S. der soll der.
650
Trày 6. Pin Crog, Cutte. a tear trickled down.
Tréacherously udv. treuTrifle S. eine Kleinigkeit.
lorerweiſe ;
mere trifles , Spieler
to Tréad V. A. ftampfen, regen, Spielſachen.
treten they tread the Trilling Udi. unbedeus
juice out with their tend, unwidtig. S. eis
feet. . ... ne Kleinigkeit.
Treaſure S. ein Sdaß. Trigger. S. der Abdrüder
to Treat V. 4. behandeln, an einem Feuergewehr.
bewirthen, tractiren. 2) Trinket S. Spielſachen.
V. N. to treat of a mat- Trip S. eine fleine Reiſe.
ter, von einer Sade to take a trip over to
bandeln.
England.
Treatiſe S. eine Abhands Trivial #dj. gering, un.
lung.
.. bedeutend.
Trèe S. der Baum. Triumph S. der Sieg,
10 Trémble V. N. sitterni der Triumpb, Frohlof.
beben.
fen...
Tremendous adj. fchred. Triumphant udi. triun.
lid, furchtbar. .. vbierend, fiegreid.
Tréncher S. ein völzerner Tród, trode Impf. von
Deller. a wooden tren- to tread.
cher.
Troop f. troup
Trial S. ein Verſuch. Trophy S. Siegeszeichen,
Triángular dreiedig. Trophäen. ,
Tribute S. Abgabe, Trio Tropic, Tropick S. der
vut.
Wendefreis.
Trice S. ein Augenblic. to Trouble ». A. beunrus
- in a trice, mit einem Bigen, fören. 2) to
Sprunge.
trouble himſelf about a
to Trickle W. N. trópfelit. thing, ſich um etwas be:
651
fümmern, ſich etwas an: trauen reken. truſt in
gelegen regni faſſen. to. Ĝod, Gost vertráuen.
trouble his head, fio den Truftèes. pin Vertrauter.
Kopf gerbrechen.
dem etwas anvertraut iſt
Trouble S. die Unruhe, Depoſitir.
Stohrung, Verwirrung. Trůth S. Treue, Redlichs
without the leaſt trou- feit. -2) Wabrhett.
ble, ohne die geringſte to Try V. 2. N. verſus
វៃe.
chen; einen Verſuc mas
Troubled Part. troubled den.
'Water, trúbes Warer. Túb S. ein Faß, Zuber.
Tróubleſome adj. beuns Trift. S. ein Buſch, eine
ruhigend, berowerlid, Staudengruppe. ..
Iuftig.
to Tumble P. N. fich wils
Troup. Troop S. ein zen , fid ſtürzen. the
Kaufen ; Trupp.
ftorm made the rocks
Trowel S. eine Maurer..tumble down.
Felle.
Tumult S. die Verwir:
Trie (fp. tru) Ubj. treu, rung, Unrube. a tumult
dot, wahr. it is true, of joy, ein Freudentaus
es iſt wabr, freylid mei.
allerdings.
Tùne S. ein Don, es
Truly Adv. treulid, wabra fang. I'll teach you the
lid.
tune of it, id) will euc
Trúnk S. der Stamm eis die Melodie dazu lebren.
nes Baunis.
to Tine V. 4. ftimmen.
Truſt S. Vertrauen i 3114 Tune thou my heart to
verſiot. 2) das Amt godlineſs.
places of truſt, Ehrens to Túrn V. 4. wenden,
Åmter. . ' dreben. he turned his
to Truſt V. N. 'fein Vers eyes upwards, ridtete
652
die Augen gen Himmel. frote.
to turn the ſpit, den 'Twas fatt it was , és
Bratſpieß drehen. 2) war,
ridten. to turn to ſome Twelfth Adj. der zwölfte.
ule, etwas benußen, Twélve udj. zwölf.
Wozu anwenden, vers Twentieth udj. der gwan:
wenden. '3) P. N. fic igfte.
indern, verwandelt wer: Twenty Ádj. zwanzig.
den. turned into duſt, Twice Adv. Gwenmal.
in Staub verwandelt. to Twig S. ein Zweig.
turn a farmer, ein lands to Twilt V. A. dreben. to
mann, Defonom werden. twift ropes, Seile,
4) fic wenden, drehen. Stride dreben. 2) flech.
" he turned back.
ten, he twiſted a kind
Túrn S. die Richtung. of roof.
when it would come to Two (ſp. tuh) adj. zwey.
his turn, wenn die Reis twolegged, jweybeinidr.
be an ibn fommen wür: Tyger, Tiger S. ein Iis
de. 2) Henderung, turn ger.
of fortune, ein Glückss Tyranny S. Grauſamkeit,
'wedrel. by turns. wedos Ipraidey.
Felsweiſe.
Tyrant S. ein Wútrich ,
Túrtle S. eine Meerſchilds Tyran.
1.
.U.
Umbrella S. ein Sonnen, vollendet, unvollfoms
rohirm.
meni.
Unable adj. unfähig, uns Unacquainted adj. under
fråftig, ſchwach.
fannt, unerfahren.
Unaccompliſhed udj. uns Unálterable Adj. unverin-
653
li.
Derlin.
fümmert, gleichgültig.
Unánimous Cip. jun anni. Undamaged 401. unbes
mos) Adj. einſtimmig, foldigt.
einmüthig.
"Undaunted Adj.unerforof.
Unánimously Adv. einmús fen.
thig.
to Undeceive V. 4. Jes
Unavoidable adj. unver's mand den Irrthum, Idus
meidlich. 2) ununigång: fchung benehmen. he was
undeceived, er rab reis
Unavoidably Udv. unvere nen Irrthum ein.
, meidlid, nothwendigers Under Pråp. unter. to be
weiſe i
under the ſad miſtake ,
to Unbend V. N. erſchlafo den traurigen Irrthum
fen, rohlaff werden. 2) begen.
losbinden.
to Undergó V. 4. entrar
Unbúrried. (ip Önbörri'd) gen, eroulden, überftes
Udj. unbegraben, uns ben, erleideni.
beerdigt.
Underneath Adv. unten,
Uncertain Adj. ungewiß. in der Liefe, unterwärts.
Uncertainty S. die unges Underpárt S. der untere
wißheit.
Tbeil.
Unchàngeable Udj. unveri to Underfiánd V. . Bers
ånderlid, unwandelbar. Riehen, begreifen.
Uycívilized adj. ungebil: Underſtanding S.der Ders
det, roh.
ftand.
Uncle S. Der Ontel. Underfood Impf. u. Part.
Uncommon 401. unges . to underfiand.
woonlid, ſelten. to Undertake V. U. un.
Unconceivable Adj. unbee ternebmen, verſuchen.
greiflid.
Undertaking S. Unternet,
Unconcerned #dj. unbes 1498, Perſo.
654
Undertook Impf. 6. to eine unerwartete Weiſe.
undertake.
Unexperienced Adj, uner:
Underwood, S. niedriges fahren, ungeibt.
Qebirib. Unterholz. Unfaithful of. untreu /
Undeſcribable adj. unbes verrätheriſc). s
rohreiblics. (gewinnlider Unfèeling adj. gefühloß
ragt mian not to be del- unempfindlich.
cribed.)
Unfiniſhed udj. unvollen.
Underérmined adj. unbe: det, ungeendint.
ftimmt, unentſdieden. Unfit. Adj. unfähig. unfit
Undiſémbled Adj. unvers for uſe untauglic.
Bellt.
Unforelèen Adj. unvorbers
- Undiſturbed 20. urges geſeheni. .
fort.
Unfortunate udj, unglüd-
Undóne. Part. v. to Undo. lich.
unglücklich.
Unfortunately Adv. un.
Undoubtedly Adv. ohne Olüdliderweiſe..
Zweifel.
Unfriendly adj. unfreund:
to Undréſs . 4. entfleis fic, unbarmherzig...
den.
Unfruitful Adj. unfruota
Unèaſy udj. unbehaglich .. bar.
unruhig. about a thing, to Unfurl V. 4. entwife
befümmert um etwas feln, entfalten to unfurl
Unemplóyed adj. unbes a ſail, ein Segel 108:
roeftigt, mißig.
wideln.
Unèqual adj. ungleich. Ungrateful adj. undanf:
Unèven Adj. uneben, un: bar, unerfenntlich.
gleid.
Ungråtefully you. auf eis
Unexpécted Adj. unerwars nie undanfbare Art...
tet.
Unháppily udv. unglúc.
Unexpéctedly udv. auf lidermeiſe, zum Unglüd.
655
Unhappineſs S. Unglüd, mäßig, gereswidrig.
Greno.
Unleſs Conj. wenn nidt,
Unhappy dj. unglüdlich. po rey denn. Unleſs he
Unhéard Adj. ungehört, mended, wofern er fido.
unbemerkt. thy cong is nicht beſſerte.
not unlieard, du bleibft Unlike Adj. ungleid, un,
nicht ungebort.
shnlid. 2) unwabra
Unhurt adj. unverlenta ſcheinlich.
unberchidigt.
Uolíckily Adv. zum un.
Uniform udj. einförmig, glúd, ung!icflicherweiſe.
regelmäßig.
Unlucky Adj. unglüdlid.
Uninhábited adj. unbes Unmanned Udj, unbenannt.
woont, wuſte.
an unmanned ſhip.
Uninterruipted adj. ununs Unnéceſſary Adi unnötbia.
terbroden.
Unnoticed Adj. unbemerft.
to Unite (ſp. juneit) V. Unobſerved Adj. unbes
2. vereinigen, verbins merft, unbeobadtet..
den. to be united by to Unpack Þ. 4. umpafs
the ties of nature, durch fen. auspaden.
· natürliche Bande vereis Unpáralelled #dj. unvers
. nigt regn.
gleidlid , unübertreff.
Unity S. die Einheit. 2) bar.
die Eintradt, Einig. Unpolluted Adj. unbes
· feit. to live in perfect fledt, reill.
unity.
Unprovided 40j. unver,
Univerſal adj. allgemein. Porgt.
Univerſe S. das Ganze, Unreaſonable adj. unpers -
das Weltall.
nünftig, vernunftwi.
Unknown Adj. uobefannt. drig.
fremd.
Unreaſonably Udv. auf ei.
Unlawful adj. ungeſeks ne unpernünftige Weiſe,
Trio.
656
to act unreaſonably, thóUp Adv. auf. Rob. grew
rigt bandeln.
up, wuchs auf. They
Unſale udj. unſicher, des came nearer up with
fåhrlidi.
her , fie tamen nåber
Unſhátter'd. Adi. unbe: auf das Spiff zu. up
roddigt.
to the ſky, bis zu den
Unſpeakably udv. auf eine Wolfen.
unausſpredliche Weiſe. Up Pråp. auf.
Unfiéady dj. unfieady to Uphraid V. 4. berduls
on his legs, unſicher auf digen, anflagen. he
reinen Füßen, fowan: uphraided himſelf, er
fend.
machte ſich Vorwürfe.
Unſucceſsful Adj: ohne Er: Upholſterer S. ein Tape.
full , verunglüdt.
sierer.
Untaught 401. unbelehrt, to Uplift V. 4. aufbeben.
ungeübt, ungereidt. with uplifted hands,
Until 400. bis, bis — 34. mit aufgefobenen Hån.
Untó f. to.
den.
Untried udj. unverſucht. Upón Pråp. auf. upon ſo.
Unvaluable adj. unidåt me buſineſs, Gerdafte
bar.
balber, in Geſchäften.
Unwárrantable Adj. uns 3) one lives upon the
verantwortlich. 2) un other, einer lebt von
verbúrgt.
dem andern. upon
Unwholeſome adj. unges which, bierauf.
ſund, ſchädlich. Upper Adj. the upper
Unwilling Adj. abgeneigt. part, der obere Theil.
he was unwilling to do the upper ſhell, die
that, er that es ungern. obere Sdale.
Unworthy 40j. unwürdig, Uppermoli udj. der hoofte.
nidtswürdig.
Uproar S. der Lärm. Alufo
·
657
rubr. all nature ſeemed gewohnt.
to be in an uproar, die Uſeful Adj.mutlich brauci
ganze Natur fcien in bar. ,
Verwirrung zu reynt. Uſefulneſs S. Brauchbare
Upward. Upwards Adv. feit, Nüblidfeit.
to Urge V. A. reißen, an: Uſeleſs udv. unnút, uns
treiben. urged by hun- brauchbar.
ger, vom Hunger ges Uſual Adj. gebräuchlid
trieben.
gewöhnlic.
Us Dativ u. Accufat. von Uſually 400. gewo
we, u118.
Weiſe.
Ùle S. die Benutung, Utenfil (ſp. juténssil) S.
der Gebrauch. to be of Gerdthe, Geſchirr.
ule, von Nutzen repih. Utility S. Braudvarfeit,
to Uſe V. U. benutzen, Nugen.
gebrauchen. 2) getdbs Utmoſt (pp. Ottmohſt)
nen. 3) V. N. gewoont udj. duſſerft. the utmoſt
reyn, pflegen. 4) auss verge, der dufferfte Rand.
üben. he uſed geſtures er 2) doft, im böchſten
sebebrdete fic. - Grade.
Uled, not uſed to all this, to Útter V. 4. laut mera
an dieſes alles nicht ges den laſſen. to utter a
wobnt, - des allen nicht word, bervorbringen.
V
Vàin ydi. eitel, unbedeurs Stammerdiener.
tend. in vain, umſonſt, Valiant adj. tapfer, mus
vergeblio.
thig.
Válet S. ein Bedienter. Válley (fp. valli) S. ein
Válet de chamber; ein Tbal.
(42)
658
Válour S. Lapferkeit'Vàult S. eine Wölbung,
.; Heldenmuth. , ein Gewölbe.
Váluable 201. rchatzbar. Vehemence S. die Hefa
Válue S. der Preis, der tigfeit, der Ulligeftúmni.
Wehrt.
Vehicle S. ein Fuhrwerf.
to Válue V. 4. fchåpen, Vein S. uder, Blutader.
adten.
Velocity S. Schnelligkeit,
Vanilla S. ein, unter dem Geldwindigfeit.
Namen Vanille bes Vénerable adj. ehrwürdig.
Fanntes ftarfes Gewürz. Véut S. Die Defnung,
to Vániſh V. N. verlowins Abzug, Ausgang...
den, unſichtbar werden. to Vént V. U. auslaſien.
Vánity S. Die Eitelfeit, to vent lighs, Seufger
Nidtswirdigkeit.
Bören laſſen, ſeufzen,
to Vanquiſh V. A. bezwins ftoonen.
gen, beſiegen.
to Vénture P. 4. wagen,
Vapour S. Dunſt, Dampf. Muth baben. 2) to ven.
Variable Udj. veränderlid, ture from his habitation,
unbeſtåndig.
to venture out, ſich bers
Variety S. die Verroies auswagen ſich entfernen.
denbeit., Mannigfaltige Verdure S, das Grune,
feit.
die grine Farbe.
Various 4dj. verſchieden. Vérge S. die Gränge, der
various colours, bunte Rand, das äußerſte Ens
Farben.
de the utmoſt verge.
Váſal S. ein Varali , Vérſe S. ein Vers.
Dienſtpflichtiger, Dienſt: Véry udj. 4. Udv. wabr,
maiin.
wirflid, das nábmlider
Váſt adj. weit, wüſte. a daſelbe. at that very
vaft quantity, eine uns time, gerade zu der Zeit.
gebeure Menge.
for that very reaſon,
659
aus eben der Urface. vittels) S. Lebensmittel.
with the very firſt ſhip, to Vie P. N. wetteifern.
mit dem allererſten
to View (ſp. wiuh) V. 4.
Schiffe. the very fame,
beleben, beſidrigen.
eben der, gerade der.
very right , gang redt. View S. die Auslidt. 2)
(in den meiſten Fällen die Anſiot, der Blid. to
dient es 0108 zur Vers take a view , einen Blick
ftárfung des udjective
tbun. 3). das Seben,
und Adverbs.
Gefidt. a new obſtacle
Véllel S. ein Gefäß a
ſtarted in view, ein
milk veſſel, 2) ein Fabra
neues Hinderniß zeigte
zeus, Sdiff. by the very fich ihm , ftellte fid iom
firſt veſel, mit dem er: entgegen.
ften beſten Schiffe. Vigorously adv.mit Kraft,
Vice S. DAS Laſter. 2) je mit Munterfeit, Luft.
der zur Gewoonbeit ges Village S. ein Dorf.
wordene Fehler , Untu. Villain S. ein Boreridt,
gend.
Bube.
Vícions, Vitious 40j. las Vine S. der Weinſtod.
ſterbaft.
Vineyard S. der Wein:
Vicíllitude S. Abwechſes berg..
fung der Wedſel. - Violence S. Hoftin feit.
Victim S. ein Dpfer, Ge'maltthårigfeit.
Solachtopfer. Violent adj. gewaltſam,
Víctor S. der Sieger, beftig.
Ueberwinder.
Violently. Adv. heftig ,
Victorious Adj. ſiegreid. gewaltſam.
· Victory S. der Siegi Virtue S. die Dugend,
Triumph
moraliſche Geſinnung.
Víctuals , Vittuals (ſp. 2) dieEigenfoaft. Straft.
660.
Virtuous 40j. tugendhaft. eine fage.
Víſibly Adv. auf eine ſichts Voluntary 20j. freywillig,
bare Art, augenreins ungezwungen.
lid, Offenbar.
Volume S. Bud. Der
Vílit S. der Beſuch. to einzelne Theil, Band
pay a viſit, eineli Bes eines Werfs.
ruch abſtatten, machen.
Vítreous 401. glåſern,
to Vómit V. N. fich ers
verglaſet, glasartig.
brecen, fid übergeben.
Víttuals f. Victuals.
2) V. ¥. qusſpeien. to
Vogue (ſp. vohg') . es vomit ftones. -
wohnheit. to be in vo. Vómiting S. das Erbres
gue, in Schwange ges chen, Auswerfen.
ben; üblich, gewobn: to Vow (rp. wau) V. 4.
lid reyn.
N. geloben, feyerlid
Voice S. die Stimme, verſprechen, betheuren.
der Ton der Stimme. Voyage S. die Reiſe, vors
Volcánó S. ein feuerſpei: nehmlich zur See. the .
ender Berg, Vulkani. hiftory of voyages, die
Volley. S. eine Ladung. Reiſebeſchreibung.
W.
Anmerking. Das á iſt in den meiſten der hier folgenden Wör:
tern breit auszuſprechen, und das uu (w) hat eine leire
Aspiration.
to Wade ». N. waden, Wager S. die Wette, for
durcwaben. (durchs a wager, um die Wette.
Waſſer geben ohne zu to Wail V. N. flagen,
føwimmen.)
webflagen.
to Wág V. 4. bewegen. Wàifi S. der linterleib.
he wagged the tail, er to Wait V. 4. warten.
wedelte mit dem Supper waits ! (der Ges
Schwanze,
wohnliche Ruf, ou Tilde
recomanae. mit
661
zu fommen) zu Diſde!
2) V. N. warten, mit
for, auf etwas warten.
to Wake P. N. wachen.
2) V. 4. weden.
we have many wants ,
to be in want of a thing,
etwas nothis baben,
brauden. 2) der Mangel.
for want, aus Mangel.
•
geben, wandeln. Wárd S. der Wådter,
Walk S. der Spaziergang, Berchúter.
das Spazierengeben. 2) War-dance S. der Kriegs.
der Spaziergang, Gang. tang wilder Völfér.
Wall S. eine Mauer, Wárlike (ſp. Uarleik) Adj.
Wand.
friegeriſ.
to Wander (das a lautet Warm Adj. warin.
wie im deutſden in dies to Wárm V. N. wärmen.
Ten und mebrern folgene to Wárn V. 2. warnen,
den Wörtern) V. N. wan: erinnern.
dern. his eyes were to Warp V. A. bey den
wandering, P. Augen, Webern die Stette oder
durchliefen, littwärmten den Aufzug machen. Das
umber. -
ber warping - bar, der
to Wánt V. 4. bedürfen, Weberbaum. (gewohna
nothig baben, brauchen. lider warping-loom.)
ber. what do you want, ein frieger.
was fehlt euch. 3) V. Was Jmperf. von to be,
n. Den entbehrten Beo war, wurde.
fit einer Sache wünſøen. to Waſh (ſp. Uaſch.) 0.-
I wanted to have one , A. waroen. 2) to be
- it wiindte einen zu waſhed over board, liber
baben.
Bord geſpült werden.
Wánt S. das Bedürfniß. Wálp S. eine Weſpe.
662
Wáli 2 Perſ. S. Impf. freye Hand haben. 4)
v. to be. du warſt. die Art und Weiſe. Our
to Watch V. bewachen. way of living', unſre
2) V. N. waden. Urt zu leben in the
Watch-man Si ein Wid wrong way, auf eine
ter i eine Schildpade. verfehrte, unrechte Art.
Watch - room S. das our way of killing ani-
Wachzimmer, die Wass mals, unſre Art die
'Rube. :
Thiere zu tódten. 5)
Water S. das Waſſer. andere Redensarten ſind
to Water V. 4. wäſſern. nod: to give way, nads
bewd Tern. to water the laſſen, nad geven. this
plants, die Pflanzen bea or that way, ſo oder fo.
gieſen. 2) V. N. his (f. N. 4) to be in one's
mouth watered, der way, iemand im Wege
Mund waferte ibm. ſtehen, binderlich reyn.
Wátering - pot S. eine to make his way. rein
Gießkanne.
Glúd madien.
Wyáter - ſpout S. ein Wols Wè Pron. Perf. wir.
fenbrud, eine Wafers Weak Adj. (owach, fraft's
hoſe.
10s.
Wave S. die Welle, Wo: Weakneſs S. Sdwiche,
Straftloſigkeit.
Way S. der Weg. this to Wean V. 4. entwób:
way, bieber. by the men - von der Mutter:
way , unterwegs. 2) bruſt nebmen.
Mittel. by this way, Weapon S. (ip. ùepp'n)
durd dieſes Mittel, dies der Waffe.
durd. 3) die Handlunges to Wear V. 4. tragen,
art. You ſhall have your an ſich baben. 2) V. N.
own way, ibr ſollt Abnehmen, nbnutzen,
se.
663
gewobynlid mit out, he wågen. 2) aufheben. to
was ſo worn out, er wéigh anchor, die uns
war ſo entfråftet, ers fer lichten. 3) V. N.
roopft. his clothes were wiegen. .
worn out, abgenußt, Wéigit $. ein Gewicht.
abgetrageli.
of near one hundred
Wearied udj, ermattet, weight, von beinabe
ermudet. :
hundert Pro. ſower.
Wearinels S. Müdigfeit, Welfare S der Wohlftaiid,
Matrigkeit.
Wohlfeyn, Glück,
Wiary udj. ermüdet, mů. Well S. die Quelle ter
de, matt. 2) diberdrůſrig. Brunneri.
to Weary V. 4 N. ermuis Well Adv. gut, wohl. 2)
dent to weary his eyes Gut! Nun! als Inter:
. fid mide rchen.
jection.
Weather S. das Wetter, Wént Impf. v. to go.
die Witterung.
Wépt Impf. v. to weep.
to Weave V. 4. weben. Wére Impf: v. to be. as
Weaver S. ein Weber. it were. gleid ram.
Web S. das Gewebe. Welt-Adj. weſtlid, gegen
Wedge S. ein ffeil. Weſten gelegen.
Weed S. Das Unfraut. VVéliern Adj. weſtlich.
to Weed V. A. Unfraut Weſtward Adv. weſtwärts.
ausreifien, jaten. Wét Adj. feuďt, 2) nas.
Week S. die Woodc. in Whåle - bone S. Walle
three weeks time, in fiſchbarden, Fifobein..
Zeit von drep Woden, What Pron. was, weldes,
innervalt dreveč Bos was? 2) Interi. wie,
den.
was, welch?
to Wiep.V. 4. weinen. Whatever pron. was nur
to Wéigh v. uel) V. 4. inimer.
664
TN
Wheat S. Wéiten. it worth his while, es
Wheel S. ein Rad.
der Mube webrt balten.
Wheel - barrow S. ein not yet a while, nod
Sbiebfarren.
. lange nicht, ben weitem
Vyhèel - wright S. pili nidt.
Rademacher, Wagner. While udv. wihrend des,
When Adv. ald, wenn. 2) indeß.
warum?
.. Whilli udv. indeſſen, uns
Whénce udv. toner. terdeſſen, daß.
Whenever 2100. ſo oft als. Whím S. der Einfall,
Whére (. uehr.) Udv. da die Grille, Laune.
10. 2) wo?
to Whine V. N. winſelil.
Whère - about Adv. wo to Whirl V. A. fchnell.
mo herum.
berumdrehen. 2) V. N.
Where - ás Udv. da hinges fic fchnell im Wirbel
gen.
dreben. to whirl away,
Where - óf udv. wovon.. a whirling - ltorm, a
Whére - upón 200.worauf. whirl- wind. pin Wir:
to Whét V. 4. weßen, belwind..
dreifen.
to Whiſper V. N flüftern.
Whéther udv. 06., White Adj. weiß.
Whét • ftone ein Soleife Whither Adv. wobin.
ſtein.
Whitiſh udj. weißlich.
Whích Pron. melder , Who (Tp. hu) Pron. wery
welche, weldes.
welcher.
While S. die Zeit, Weis Whoever Pron. wer nur,
le. a while, eine Zeits ein jeder der.
lang. all this while, Whole (fp.hohl) adj. al.
dieſe ganze Zeit über. les, gang, vóuig.
mcan while, inzwiſchen, Whole S. das Ganze,
mittlerweile, to think Alles.
665
Whole-ſome 401. heilſam, Willing udj. geneigt.
nůßlid, vortheilhaft. 2) Willingly udv. gern.
der Geſundheit zutråg: Willow S. die Weide
lico, gefund.
(eine Pflanzenart.) a
Wholly Adv. gänzlich. willow-tree.
Whòm (Tp. huhm) der Wind (pp. ùind. obgleich
• Acc. S. u. .pon who. man aud veind aus,
Whoſe der Genit. von ſpridt.) S. der Wind.
who.
to Wind (fp, ùeind.) V..
Why udv. wie, warum? 4. Oreben, wenden. 2)
2) Si! nun dalin ! wwwinden. 3) V. N. ſich
Wicked udj. laſterhaft, drehen, fic wenden,
gottlos.
winden, ſich frummen.
Wickedneſs S. Unſittlid: winding down this
feit, Gottloſigfeit. way, was ſich bier
Wide Adj. weit, ausge: frumm berumzielt.
dehnt.
Wind- mill S. eine Windo
to widen V. 4. erweitern, müble.
großer maden.
Window S. das Fenſter.
Widow S. eine Wittwe. Wine S. der Wein. a
Wife S. eine verbeyras wine preſs. S. eine
topte Frau, ein Weil. Stelter.
Wild Adj. wild.
Wing. S. der Flügel.
Will S. der Wille. Jie had Wink S: das Winfen mit
his own will, er batte den Augen. He could
reinen freyen Willen. not get a wink of ſleep,
to Will V. 4. wollen, er fonnte fein Auge zu
begeben. 2) als Hilfe thun. no wink of ſleep
mort bildet es das Fus befriended his eyes,
turum in der Conjugas fein Schlaf fam in fois
tion 4. beißt: werden. ne Augen.
666
to Wink V. N. winfen, not know what to do
zuminfen. ' with himſelf for fear,
Winter S. der Winter. er wußte vor Furdt vidt
Winter was at hand, der zu bleiben; nicht, was
Winter' war vor der er anfangen route.
Thúr.
to Withdraw-V. U. weg:
to Wipe V. 4. abwiſden, gieben. to withdraw his
troofnen.
hand, reine Hand all
Wire S. der Drath, Mes sieben. 2) V. N. rid
tallfaden.
tvegbegeben.
Wiſdom S. die Weisbeit. Withe (ſp. uils) S. die
Wife Adj. weiſe, flug. Wridenruthe.
· Wiſely ady. weislid, mit to Wíther V. N. verdors
Klunbeit.
ren. a wither'd tree ,
Wiſh S. der Wunſo, das ein abgeftandener dúrrer
Verlangen.
Baum.
Wiſh V. N. U. wunſchert. to Withold V. #. gurúd,
Wiſhed for udj. erwünſcht. baltest.
the long wilhed for day Withín Prép. u. Adv. ills
light, das ſångit ere nerhalb within himſelf,
wünſchte Lageslicht. bey ſich reluft. .
Wit S. der Wiß, Vero Without Pråp. ohne. 2)
ftand. to be out of his auffer, Ruſterbalb. 3)
wits, von Sinnen regn. 40v. from without ,
Witch S. eine Zauberinn, von auſſem.
Here.
to Withſtand V. A. mis
Witch craft S. Hererey derſtehen. the tempta-
Zauberer:
tion, der Verſudung
With Pråp. mit. 2) bey. widerfteben.
with him, with us. ber Withſtanding S. der Wi-
ibm , uns. 3) He did derſtand.
667
Witneſs S. das Zeugniß. Wónderfully udv. auf ein
2) der Zeuge..
ne munderbare Art. .
Wives Plur. v. Wife. Wóndrous adj. erftaunis
Weiber. Frauen.
lich, bewundernswehrt.
Wizard S. ein Beſchwise Wón't zuſammengezogen
rer, Zauberer, Hexena aus will not.
meiſter.
Wood (ſp. ùudd) S. der
Woe! (fp. ùoh) Interj. Wald. 2) das Hola.
well!
Wooden Ndj. bölzern, von
Woeful Udj. traurig, bes Hors.
trübt , jåmmerlid. Wood - louſe · S. eine
Wólf (fp. uulf) S. der Wandlaus (ein Inſect.)
Wolf.
Wood - worm S.ein Holza
Wónan S. das Wrib. wurm. .
Wómaniſh 210. meibiſch. Woody 20j. waldig, bolsa.
Wómen (pp. uimmen) .reid.
Plur. v. Woman, old Woof (ſp. ùuf) S. das
women ftory, ein alt Gewebe, bep dell Wes
Weibermåbyrden.
bern der Einſcolag.
to Wonder P. N. erſtau: Wool (ſv.uull) S. Wolle.
nen, fich wundern, mit Woolly Adj. wollig, wie
at, worüber;
Wolle, woolly hair.
Wóuder S. die Verwuns Vyórd S. DNB Bort. In
derung, das Erſtaunen. a word, mit einem
2) das Wunder, dadjes Borte. 2) Nagrict. to
nige worüber man fic bring words to one,
wundert. 3) wliat in jemand Nadridt geben,
the name of wonder, ihn etwas miſſeri lajien /
was in aller Welt! : ibin melden.
Wonderful adj. wunder. Wore Imperf. oon top
bar, bewundernswert. wear.
668
to Wórk V. N. A. arbéis ditionalis. what he
tell, in Thårigfeit reynt. would be good for,
* His brains worked, er moju er taugen wirde.
gerbrad fich den stopf, 2) bat es die Bedeu:
er ftrengte ſich ani. to tung: pflegen i BP,
work out a hollow mobiit ſeyn (weil
place, ausarbeiten od. dieſes ein beftindiges
ausbauen. to work on, Wollen in ſich roließt)
fortarbeiten.
the father would tell
Work S. die Arbeit, Be: them hiftories, pflegte
fcdftigung, Werf. ihnen Geſchichtchen zu
World S. die Welt. erzahleit.
Wóım S. der Wurm. Wound (die Ausprache
Wórn Part. v. to wear. und iſt blider als
Wórſe Compar v. bad, aund.) S. eine Wunde.
rahliminer.
to Wound V. 2. veriruna
Wórſhip S. Ehre, ud. den.
tung. to pay divine Wound (fp, jaund) Impf.
worſhip, göttliche Ebre v, to wind.
erzeigen.
Wráck, Wreck S. 1) Schiffs
10 "Vórſhip. V. A. götte brud. [hip-wreck 2)
lich verebren.
die Sdiffétriimmer, das
Wórft S. das Sdlimmſte. Wraf.
Wórth Adj. webrt, wur: to Wrap V. A. zuſammen,
dig. to think it worth rollen, zuſammenwits
his while, es der Mühe felu; Nimmt gewibnlid
webrt barten. . - up 311 fich: wrapt up
Wórthy adj. würdig. eingehüllt.
Wóuld (fp ùudd) Impf. Wreck f. Wrack.
v. to will, als Huilfs- to Wreſt V. A. mit Ges
wort bildet es den Cons walt abnebmen. he wror
669
fted the ſword out of the father' wrote it
his hand er wand, dres down, fohrieb es auf.
beté ihm den Degen aus Writing S. eine Sorift.
der Hand.
the writings, die Par
Wretch S. ein unglidflis piere.
cher, Elender. 2) ein Written Part yon to write.
Taugenidts, Nidtswürs - Wrong S. das Unredt.
diger.
. 2) der Irrthum.
Wrétched udj. elend, uns Wrong u0j. unrecht, falſo.
glücklid. your wretclied in the wrong way, auf
ſon. euer unglüdlicher eine verfehrte Art.
Soon. wretched tools, to Wrong V. A. frånfen,
elende, jåmmerſide Beleidigen.
Werfzeuge.
Vyrote Impf. v. to write.
to Wring V. 4. ringen. Wrought (fp.raht) Impf.
winden. to wring his v. to work.
hands. 2) aus den Hån: Wrıíng Impf. v. to wring.
den dreben, winden. Wry udj. a wry face, ein
to Write V. 4. Pohreiben. finſteres Geſicht.
Yacht (ſp.jatt) S. ein fleis 'to Yawn P. N. donen.
nes Fahrzeug, eine Jacht. Ye fatt You, ibr.
Yård (fp. yard) S. ein ein. Year S. das Jahr.
geſchlofener Plat neben to Yéll. D.N.laut (oreyen,
einer Wohnungder beulen.
Hof, Hofraum. 2) ein Yéllow Adj. gelb.
Maas von 3 Fuß, eine Yes udv. ja.
englirde Elle
Yéfterday S. der geſtrige
Yarn S. Garn.
Tag, Beſtern.
.670
'Yéfternight 5. geffern binſon the younger,
Abend.
zum Unterſdied von dla
s oni. Dennod, doch t ern Erzählungen dieſes
pleidwol..
Namens.
Yét 200. noch not yet, Your (wird bald långer
noch nicht 2) annoch. as bald 'fürger ausgeſpro-
yet, vorjeft.'
chen, je nachdem man
to Yoke D. 4. an das Joch den Nachdrud darauf
ſpannen, anjoden, ans rest oder nict.) Pron:
fpannen...
euer.
Yoke e. das goch. Yourſelf Pron. ihr, eudo
Yón, Yonder Udv. dort, relbſt. (von einer, youre,
in der gerne.
ſelyes, von mehrern Pers
You Pron. ihr, eud. fonen.)
Young #dj. jung a young Youth S. die Jugend,
· man, ein Jungling. das jugendliche Alter. 2)
Younger udj. junger. Ro' ein Jüngling.
2.
'Zeal S. der Eifer, die leis zeal, mit brennendeni
denſchaftliche Neigung - Eifer.
für etwas. with fervent Zealous. Adj. eifrig.
Drude in 8 Mapier von E. {.. Brede in offen Bad.
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”主骨yf
:
一些
​是了​:P
.
是
​1
七
​,
。
生产
​,
因此
​..
.
4,4,
年十
​人们
​,
,
之中
​}
-
,
如此
​。
等
​,
等
​事
​年代的中
​,
-
,
特性
​。
出
​这
​Air
”,
二十​。
一
​:
为了
​14
**;
,
是一定
​A
各种接
​说
​,
建
​事事
​上了車
​,
管
​注
​*
*
;
st.,
》:“
:
;
(入
​其
​找出路
​“
:
多年
​看书
​:
于是
​n
工作​:
十
​.
A
.
经
​!
4
世上最长的
​大学
​步
​年​,
中共十
​Fi,
:
共
​这是
​设为
​HAVEG
《
·
A
,,
岁
​.
其中​:
进步和
​广
​“对了​,
:
S
4
EL中​,
.
兰博
​容
​