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AN
ABRIDGMENT
OF THE
NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE;
AN
INSTRUCTIVE AND ENTERTAINING
HISTORY,
FOR THE USE OF
CHILDREN OF BOTH SEXES.
TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.
Embellished with Thirty-two Cuts.
NEW-YORK:
Printed and published by I. Riley
1811.


Regent L. L. Hustards
10-29-1924
PREFACE.
SOME writers have affirmed that mankind are all born with
the same dispositions, and the same degree of understanding :
and that education, laws, and customs, create all the difference
perceivable between man and man. I confess, I can hardly
bring myself to suppose that education alone produced the wide
dissimilarity which exists between the characters of Thersites
and Achilles, or those of Socrates and Anytus: at the same time
it will ever be an acknowledged truth, that even he who is most
indebted to Nature will reap but small advantage from her gifts,
unless they are improved by mature and judicious cultivation.
The improvement of mankind, as far as it can be effected by
education, has been more attended to in the present age than
ever it was in any preceding one. If the endeavours used to this
purpose have not had all the success that might be expected from
them, they have at least excited the attention, and direeted the
minds of men towards an object, the accomplishment of which,
as it is more or less perfect, has ever a proportionable effect upon
the happiness of families, and, consequently, upon the state of
society in general.
The following work is indebted to the Emilius of the late ce-
lebrated Jean Jacques Rousseau for the form that it bears. Mr.
Campe, the author of it, expresses himself thus: “I never read
the following passage, in the second volume of Emilius, without
the most sensible satisfaction. Nothing upon earth can be so
well calculated to inspire one with ardour in the execution of a
plan approved by so great a genius.
“Might there not be found means," says Rousseau, “to bring
together so many lessons of instruction that lie scattered in so
many books; to apply them through a single object of a familiar
and not uncommon nature, capable of engaging the imitation, as
well as rousing and fixing the attention even at so tender an age ?
If one could imagine a situation in which all the natural wants of
man appear in the clearest light to the understanding of a child,
and in which the means of satisfying these wants unfold them-
selves successively in the same clear, easy manner, the lively and
natural description of such a state should be the first means that
I would use to set his imagination at work.”

PREFACE.
“I have divided the time of my New Robinson Crusoe's re-
maining upon the island into three periods. In the first, he is all
alone and destitute of any European tool or instrument whatso-
ever, assisting himself merely by his hands and invention : in
order to show, on the one hand, how helpless man is in a state of
solitude, and, on the other, how much reflection and persevering
efforts can contribute to the improvement of our condition. In
the second period, I give him a companion, on purpose to show
how much a man's situation may be bettered by taking even this
single step towards society. Lastly, in the third period, a vessel
from Europe is shipwrecked on his island, and gives him an op-
portunity thereby of providing himself with tools and most other
articles necessary in common life, in order that the young
reader may see how valuable many things are of which we are
accustomed to make very little account, because we have never
experienced the want of them.”
For the external form of this little work, it is but just to ob-
serve, that no pains have been spared to embellish it, and that
the addition of thirty-two handsome cuts cannot fail of rendering
it at once more sprightly and intelligible to the young reader, for
whom it is intended. In effect, these little prints serve admira-
bly to afford the child a just conception of the remarkable passa-
ges in a work ; and it may, perhaps, be affirmed, with truth,
that no parts, even of the most interesting stories, make a
stronger or more lasting impression on the memory, than those
which are the subjects of the cuts.
With these advantages, it is hoped the New Robinson Crusoe
will find its way to the studies of the younger class of both sexes,
and afford them at once both innocent entertainment and moral
instruction

NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
FIRST EVENING.
en
az
A GENTLEMAN, of the name of Billingsley,
resided some years at Twickenham, who, having
a pretty large family, and but a moderate fortune,
determined to undertake himself the care of his
children's education. He proposed, by this plan,
on the one hand, to avoid the enormous expense of
keeping them at what are called genteel boarding-
schools, and, on the other, to enjoy the pleasing
observation of their improvement in learning, sense,
and good behaviour. To remark, with silent but
attentive eyes, the gradual advance of his children
towards the perfection of reason and virtue : to as-
sist, with his advice and instruction, their endea-
vours to become more learned, honest, and wise;
and to have the happy consciousness, that he should
one day be considered, what all parents ought, as
the instrument and cause of his children's eternal
welfare: all this, he thought, would be more than
a sufficient reward for whatever cares and fatigue
he should undergo in the course of their education.
He, therefore, laid down for them a regular plan
of study, to which he afterwards strictly adhered.
In this was included a course of reading; and some
book, that was at once both instructive and enter-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
taining, afforded them amusement every evening
for two or three hours before supper. But, as this
exercise was meant by their father solely to in-
crease their fund of knowledge, and enlarge their
understanding, in order that it might appear rather
as a relaxation from their closer studies, than a la-
bour imposed on them, Mr. Billingsley, in general,
undertook the task of reading himself. The follow-
ing History of the New Robinson Crusoe was, du-
ring some weeks, the subject of their evening's
entertainment; and was thus introduced.
Mrand Mrs. Billingsley being seated by the par-
lour fire, together with Mr. Rose and Mr. Mere-
dith, two intimate friends of the family, and all the
children, whose names will appear successively in
the course of the story, being assembled in their
proper places, Mr. Billingsley began his relation
as follows:
Mr. Billingsley. Well, my dear children, I have
a book for your entertainment this evening that
contains a very extraordinary story. Some parts
of it will make your hair stand on end, and others
will perfectly delight you.
George. Ah! but do not let it be too melancholy,
papa.
Harriet. No, my dear papa, not too melancholy;
for then it will make us all cry, you know.
Richard. Hold your tongues; papa knows what
to read, I warrant you,
Mr. Bill. Do not be uneasy, my dears. I will
take care that there shall not be any thing too tra-
gical in it.
There lived in the town of Exeter a person of the
name of Crusoe. He had three sons, the eldest of
whom, having an inclination to serve in the army,
enlisted himself as a soldier, went abroad with his
regiment to Flanders, and was killed at the battle of
Fontenoy.
Richard. Holdhake us all cry, yoroo melancholy;

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
C
. The second entered the University of Oxford,
and made a considerable progress in learning, but
died of a consumption.
There remained, therefore, but the youngest,
whose name was Robinson. In him, as he was now
become their only son, Mr. and Mrs. Crusoe placed
all their hopes and expectations. They loved him
as the apple of their eye, but their love was blind
and injudicious.
Geo. What is the meaning of that papa ?
Mr. Bill. I will tell you. Your mother and I love
you all, my dear children, as you well know; but
for that very reason we keep you close at your busi-
ness every day, and teach you many things both
useful and agreeable, because we know that to be
the best way to make you good and happy, But
Robinson's parents did not act in the same manner.
They suffered their dear child to do whatever he
pleased ; and as this dear child liked better to play
than to work, or to learn any thing, they let him play
almost the whole day long, by which means he
learned little or nothing. Now this is what we
call an injudicious love in parents.
Geo. I understand now, papa.
Mr. Bill. Robinson grew up a stout stripling be-
fore his parents had determined what profession
they should give him. His father was desirous
that he should learn some trade, but the son had
not the least inclination that way. He said he should
like better to travel, to see the world, and become
acquainted with the various objects and customs that
foreign countries afford.
In speaking thus, young Crusoe showed his ig-
norance and folly. If he had begun by laying in a
good stock of learning, it would have been another
matter. But what profit could a raw, ignorant
boy, like him, gain by seeing foreign countries?
When a man wishes to make his way in the world,

UTTO

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
be it in what country it will, he ought to be provi.
ded beforehand with a tolerable share of knowledge;
but this was what Robinson never once thought of.
He was now seventeen years of age. The great-
est part of this time he had misspent in sauntering
about and playing in the streets of Exeter. Every
day he was teasing his father for leave to go and
travel. But his father told him that he would not
hear a word upon the subject. “My dear child,” his
mother would say to him, “ stick to your own
country, and never think of rambling."
One day
Harriet. Aha! now it begins.
Edw. Pshaw! hold your tongue.
Mr. Bill. One day, when, according to custom,
he was strolling about the streets, he met one of
his old playfellows, whose father was captain of a
ship trading to Amsterdam, and who had just come
down from Plymouth to see some of his relations
that lived at Exeter. He told Robinson that he was
to set off with his father in a day or two for Am-
sterdam.
Charlotte. What, papa, by the stage?
Henry. No, Charlotte, but in a ship; for you
must cross the sea to go to Amsterdam. Well, pa.
pa.
Mr. Bill. He asked Robinson if he should like to
go with him. “Yes, very well,” replied he, “but
my parents will not consent to it.” “ Pooh!” said
the other, “come off with me as you are, just for
the frolic. We shall be back again in a month or
six weeks; and as to your father and mother, you
have only to let them know where you are gone."
“ But,” says Robinson, “I have no money in my
pocket.” “You will not want any," replied his
companion ; " but if you should, I'll supply you."
Young Crusoe hesitated a few moments, at last,
slapping his companion's hand, he cries, “ Agreed,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE
my boy! I will go along with you: let us set ofi
this moment for Plymouth.” At the same time he
commissioned one of his acquaintances to let his fa-
ther know (after the expiration of a few hours)
that he was only gone to see the city of Amsterdam,
and that he should be back in a week or two.
Rich. I do not like this Mr. Robinson Crusoe.
Edw. Nor I neither.
Mr. Rose. Why so, Richard ?
Rich. Because he seems to make nothing of leav-
ing his father and mother without their permis-
sion.
Mr. Rose. You are extremely right, Richard; he
committed there a very rash, foolish action, and
we should pity him for his folly. But, thank Hea-
ven, there are not many young persons now so ig.
norant as not to know their duty towards their pa-
rents.
Edw. What! are there other boys then, like Ro-
binson Crusoe.
Mr. Rose. I have not yet found any; but one
thing I know for certain, which is, that no good
can ever come of young people who behave like
him.
Rich. Well, let us hear what becomes of Robin-
son.
Mr. Bill. A short time after Robinson and the
captain's son were got on board, the sailors weigh-
ed anchor and set their sails. The wind blew fresh,
and they cleared out of the harbour, bidding adieu
to Flymouth for a short while. Young Crusoe was
upon the deck with his friend, and almost out of
his wits with joy that he was at length going to be-
gin his travels.
The evening was fine, and the breeze blew so fa-
vourably, that they soon lost sight of the town and
harbour of Plymouth. They were now on the open
sea, and Robinson stared with admiration when he

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
saw nothing before him but the sky and the water.
By degrees they began to lose sight of land, and as
night came on they could see nothing on that quar-
ter but the Eddistone light-house. This also dis-
appeared in a short time, and from that moment,
Robinson saw nothing above him but the sky, nor
before, behind, and all round him, but the sea.
Geo. That must be a prospect.
Mr. Mered. It is not impossible but you may see
such a one before it be long.
Geo. Oh! shall we go upon the sea ?
Mr. Mered. If you will be very attentive while
you are learning geography, so as to know which
course you must take to go from one place to an-
other.
Mr. Bill. Yes, and if by working constantly, and
being temperate in your victuals, you make your
bodies hardy enough to bear the fatigue of such a
voyage, we may, perhaps, some day in summer,
take a boat down the river as far as London, where
some of you have never been yet.
All the Children. Oh! oh!
Mr. Bill. I cannot tell but we may take a trip to
Margate for a few weeks, where you will have as
wide a prospect of the sea as Robinson Crusoe had
when he was sailing out of Plymouth harbour. (Here
they all get up and run about their father. They
hang on his neck, his arms, and his knees, expressing
their joy with caresses, clapping of hands, and jump-
ing about.)
Harriet. Will you let me make one of the party?
Mrs. Bill. Yes, my dear, if you are able to go
so far.
Harriet. But it is very far is it not, papa? Per-
haps farther than Richmond, where Mr. Compton
lives, and another gentleman that has a great house
and a large garden. Oh! so large! a great deal lar-
ger than our garden. I was all through it, was I

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
osa
not, papa? the day that Charlotte and I were gather-
ing cowslips in the meadow.
Mr. Bil. Yes, I remember, and we were looking
at the folks plowing.
Harriet. Yes, and we went into a smith's forge
that was by the road's side.
Mr. Bill. And afterwards up into a windmill.
Harriet. Ah, yes, where the wind blew off my
bonnet.
Mr. Bill. Which the miller's boy brought back to
you again.
Harriet. That was a good boy; was he not papa ?
Mr. Bill. Yes, he was a good boy for being so
obliging as to do us a kindness, though he had never
seen us before.
Harriet. However, you gave him something I sup.
pose.
Mr. Bill. Certainly, my dear, I gave him some-
thing; for every one likes to reward those who are
obliging. But we forget Robinson Crusoe. We
must make haste to overtake him, or else we shall
lose sight of him, for he is going at a furious rate.
For two days they had constantly good weather
and a favourable wind. The third day the sky was
darkened with clouds, the wind blew with uncom.
mon violence, and the air grew every moment dark-
er and darker.
In short, it was a dreadful storm. The rain
came down in floods, and the violence of the wind
tossed the sea about in such a manner that the waves
swelled and rose mountain high.
Then it would have been worth while to see how
the ship went see-saw. One time a large wave car-
ried it, as it were, up to the clouds; another time
it dipped down as if it was going to the bottom of
the deep ; then it rolled to one side and the other,
and lay down so flat that at times its very masts seem-
ed to touch the water.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
What a noise was amongst the ropes! what a
alattering upon the deck! The sailors were obli-
ged, each of them, to hold fast to something or other
for fear of being washed overboard. Robinson Crusoe,
who had never been accustomed to all this, grew
giddy, felt a sickness at his stomach, and was so bad
that he thought he should have vomited to death.
They call it sea-sickness.
Rich. That is what he has gained by running
away.
Mr. Bill. “Oh! my poor parents! my poor fa-
ther and mother!” cried he incessantly; “they will
never see me more! O miserable fool that I am to
have brought this affliction on them !”
Crack! went something on the deck. “Heaven
have mercy on us !” cried the sailors turning as pale
as death, and clasping their hands together. “ What
is the matter ?” asked Robinson, who was half dead
with affright.
“Ah! we are all lost!" answered one of the sea-
yen; “the lightning has shivered our mizen-mast
to pieces,” (that is, the hindmost of the three
masts that are in a ship,) " and the main-mast stands
by so slender a hold that we must cut it down and
throw it overboard.”
“We are all lost !” cried out another voice from
below; “the ship has sprung a leak, and there are
four feet water in the hold.”
At these words Robinson, who was sitting down on
the cabin floor, fell backwards, void of sense and
motion. All the rest ran to the pumps, in order, if
possible, to keep the vessel afloat. At last one of
the sailors came and shook Robinson by the shoul.
der, asking him if he intended to be the only one
who would do nothing for the preservation of the
ship, but lie there stretched at his length while all
the rest of the people worked until they were not
able to stand.

1o
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
one side wis place ar again. On
He tried, therefore, to rise, weak as he was, and
took his place at one of the pumps. In the mean
time the captain ordered some guns to be fired as
a signal of distress to other ships, if there should
happen to be any within hearing capable of assisting
them. Robinson, who did not know the meaning
of these shots, thought the vessel was splitting in
pieces, and fainted away again. One of the sailors,
who took his place at the pump, pushed him on
one side with his foot, and left him there stretched
at full length, imagining that he was dead.
They pumped with all their strength; neverthe-
Jess the water still gained upon them in the hold,
and now they only waited for the moment when the
vessel would sink. In order to lighten her, they
threw overboard every thing that they could possibly
spare, as the guns, bales of goods, hogsheads, &c.
But all that was of no manner of service.
However, another ship had heard their signals of
distress, and, as the storm began about this time to
abate considerably, ventured to send out her boat,
and thereby saved the crew.
They had hardly rowed many minutes, before the
ship, which was still pretty near them, sunk before
their eyes. Happily the storm was now almost to-
tally abated, otherwise the waves would inevitably
have swallowed up the boat, which was then as full
of people as it could hold. After many dangers it
got safe at length to the ship where they were all
taken in.
Geo. Ah! well, I am glad, however, that the
poor people were not drowned.
Edw. I was sadly in pain for them.
Harriet. Well, this will teach master Robinson
never to be so naughty again.
Mrs. Bill. That is just my opinion too. Let us
hope that he will be the better for this danger,
Henry. Well, what became of him after ?

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Mr. Bill. The ship that had taken him and the
vest of the crew in, was bound to London. In four
days she arrived at the Nore, and the next day
came to anchor in the river.
Charlotte. What is the Nore, papa ?
Mr. Bill. The Nore is a small sandy bank at the
mouth of the Thames, where a vessel is constantly
stationed, which hangs up two lights every night
to be a guide to ships that enter the river.
They now landed, and happy was each one to
have thus escaped the dangers of the sea. As to
Robinson, his first care was to see London, and for
this purpose he spent a day or two in rambling all
over the city, where he met with such a variety of
new objects as entirely put the remembrance of
past dangers out of his head, as well as all thoughts
of the future. Happening one day to meet the cap-
tain with whom he had set sail from Plymouth, he
received an invitation to dine with him, which was
very agreeable to Robinson, as he had spent what
little money he had borrowed from the captain's
son. At dinner the captain asked him what parti-
cular motive he had for going to Amsterdam, and
what he intended to have done there. Robinson
answered him frankly that he had nothing in view
but his amusement ; that he had come off unknown
to his father and mother, and at present did not
know what to do with himself.
“Unknown to your father and mother!" cried
the captain : “Good heavens! why did not I know
that before ? Believe me, imprudent young man, if
I had known so much at Plymouth, I would not
have taken you on board of my ship, if you had of.
fered me a million of money.
Robinson sat with downcast eyes blushing for
shame, and unable to answer a single word.
The honest captain continued to represent to him
the folly that he had been guilty of, and told him

12
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
that he never could be happy unless he repented of
what he had done, and obtained forgiveness of his
parents. At these words Robinson wept bitterly.
"But what can I do now?” cried he at length,
sobbing heavily. “What can you do ?” said the
captain : “ Return to your parents, fall on your
knees before them, and, like a sensible and dutiful
lad, implore their pardon for your imprudence;
that is what you can do, and what you ought to
do.”
Harriet. Ah, papa, I like this captain much; he
was a very good man.
Mr. Bill. My dear, he did what every one ought
to do when he sees his fellow creature fall into an
error; he endeavoured to bring this young man back
to his duty.
“Will you take me with you to Plymouth again ?"
said Robinson.
“Who, I?” said the captain : “ Have you forgot,
then, that my ship is lost? It may be a considera-
ble time before I return there in a ship of my own :
but as for you, there is not a moment to lose; you
should go aboard of the very first vessel that sails
for Plymouth, if it were even to-day.”
« But,” says Robinson, “I have no money."
“Well,” said the honest captain, “I will lend
you a couple of guineas out of the little that I have
to spare. Go down to the river, and get aboard of
some vessel that is bound for Plymouth, unless you
rather choose to travel by land. If your repentance
is sincere, God will bless your return, and make it
happier than your outset has been.” With these
words, having made an end of dinner, he shook
Robinson by the hand, and wished him a good voy-
age, who parted from him with many thanks for his
kindness and good advice.
Edw. What, is he going back home again alrea-
dy? I thought the story was only beginning.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Mrs. Bill. Are you not satisfied, then, my dear
Edward, that he should go home to his parents, and
put an end to the sorrow and distress that they suf-
fer on his account?
Mr. Mered. And are you not pleased to find that
he sees his error, and is willing to make amends for
it ?
Edw. Yes--that--to be sure. But I thought to
hear something diverting before it came to that.
Mr. Bill. Well, he is not returned home yet.
Let us hear the remainder of his adventures.
While he was walking down towards the river,
his head was filled with various reflections. “What
will my father and mother say,” thought he to him-
self, “ if I go back to them now? Certainly they
will punish me for what I have done. And then
all my companions and every one else that hears of
it, what game they will make of me for returning
so soon, after seeing only two or three streets of
London!"
This thought made him stop short. One mo-
zent he seemed determined not to go home yet;
again, he reflected on what the captain had told him,
that he would never be happy, unless he returned
to his parents. For a long time was at a loss
what to resolve on. At length, however, he went
down to the river; but there he learned, to his
great satisfaction, that there was not a single vessel
in the river bound for Plymouth. The person who
gave him this information was a captain of a ship
in the African trade who was shortly to set sail fer
the coast of Guinea.
Charlotte. Where is the coast of Guinea, papa ?
Mr. Bill. Henry, can you tell that: he knows
where it lies.
Henry. Don't you remember there is a country
called Africa ? Very well; one part of the coast-.-
Charlotte, Coast! What is that?

THE NOW RUS
ROBINSON
NIW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
enry. The land that lies along by the sea-side.
Hold, here is Sealy's Geographical Dictionary, which
describes all the known world, and contains maps
of every country, to which we can refer from time
to time for fuller information, it being the most cor-
rect and complete work of the kind ever published.
This dictionary is also enriched with a great num.
ber of beautiful views of the most celebrated cities
and towns, &c. in Europe. Look at this map. All
this part of Africa that turns down here is called the
coast of Guinea.
Mr. Bill. And English ships sail to this coast in
order to trade there. The person who spoke with
Robinson, was captain of one of those ships.
· When he found that the young man had so eager
a desire for travelling, and would have been sorry
to return so soon to Plymouth, he proposed to bim
to take a trip to the coast of Guinea. Robinson at
first was startled at the idea: but when the captain
assured him that the voyage would be exceeding
pleasant; that, so far from costing him any thing, it
might turn out a very profitable adventure ; Robin-
son's eyes began to sparkie, and his passion for tra-
velling revived in his breast.
6 But,” said he, “ I have only two guineas in the
world."
“I will lend you five more," said the captain;
" that will be quite sufficient to purchase you
goods."
“And what sort of goods must I purchase ?" said
Robinson
“All sorts of toys and playthings,” answered the
captain.
Robinson forgot, at once, his parents, friends, and
country. “ Captain,” said he, “ I am willing to
go along with you when you please."
* Agreed !" replied the other.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
15
Rich. Well, now it is all over; I shall never have
the least pity any more for such a blockhead as Ro-
binson.
Mr. Bill. No pity, Richard ?
Rich. No papa: why is he such a fool as to forget
a second time his duty to his parents ?
Mr. Bill. And do you think that a man deserves
no pity who is unfortunate enough to forget his pa-
rents? Oh! my dear child, may heaven preserve
us from that most terrible of all punishments, to feel
that we alone have caused our own wretchedness!
All were silent for a few moments; after which
Mr. Billingsley continued in the following words:
Robinson made haste to lay out his seven guineas.
He purchased with them such articles as the captain
had mentioned to him.
After some days, the wind being favourable, they
set sail.
Mrs. Bill. Well, now I think it is high time for
us to set sail towards the land of supper.
Geo. I am not the least hungry, mama.
Harriet. And I would rather hear the story too.
Mr. Bill. To-morrow, my dears, we shall have the
rest of Robinson's adventures. At present we will
put him by.
SECOND EVENING.
The next evening Mr Billingsley continued his
story in the following terms:
Robinson's second voyage began as favourably as
the first. They had already cleared the Channel
without any accident, and were now in the middle
of the Atlantic Ocean: here they met with such


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
contrary winds, that they found themselves driven
towards the coast of America.
One evening the steersman declared that he saw
a fire at a great distance, and that he heard the
firing of guns from the same quarter. All hands
immediately hastened upon deck. The captain exa-
mined his maps, and found there was no land near on
that quarter ; and they concluded that it must be
some ship on fire.
The captain instantly ordered five guns to be
fired as a signal to the people who were on board,
that help was at hand. Scarcely was this order
put in execution, before they saw the ship which
had been on fire blow up with a dreadful explosion.
At break of day they discovered two boats full of
people, tossing about at the mercy of the waves.
They could perceive that they rowed with all their
force towards the ship. Immediately the captain
ordered the colours to be hoisted as a signal that he
saw their distress. At the same time the ship, in
the space of half an hour, happily came up with
them.
There were sixty in the boats, men, women, and
children, who were all taken on board. It was an
affecting scene to behold the actions of these poor
people when they saw themselves so happily deli-
vered.
There was none of the ship's crew, though ever
so hardened, that could help shedding tears at the
sight of these poor people's extravagant behaviour.
Among them happened to be a young priest, who
acted with more firmness and dignity than any of
the rest. As soon as he set his foot upon the deck,
he fell upon his face, and seemed to have lost all sense
and motion. The captain went to assist him, think-
ing that he had swooned away ; but the clergyman
calmly thanked him for his good nature, and said,
* Allow me first to return thanks to my Creator for

18
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
our deliverance; I will afterwards endeavour to
show you how lively a sense l entertain of your ex-
'treme kindness to us."
The priest remained a few minutes in this pos-
ture of humble prostration; after which, rising
cheerfully, he went to the captain to testify his gra-
titude to him for the civility that he had shown to him
and his people. This done, he turned to his com -
panions in misfortune, and said, “my dear friends,
calm the agitation of your minds. The being who is
supremely good, hath youchsafed to stretch out a fa-
ther's hand over you. You should lift up your hearts
to him, and thank him without delay for the unex-
pected preservation of your lives.”
After this the priest gave the captain an account
who they were, and what had happened to them.
The ship that was burnt was a large French mer-
chantman bound for Quebec; and, on her catching
fire, they had barely time to take to their boats, in
which they were only able to take on board some
biscuits and water.
Charlotte. What occasion had they to carry water
with them? They were on the water,
Mr. Bill. You forget, my dear, that the water of
the sea is salt and unfit for drinking.
Charlotte. So, so!
Mr. Bill. In this distressful situation they heard
the guns that were fired by the English ship, and
soon after observed the light of their lanterns.
They passed all that night exerting their strength
to get to the ship. At length, the appearance of
day put an end to their distress.
The people who were saved from the boats had
30w taken some refreshment, when their captain
came up to the ship's captain, and told him that what-
ever money they had been able to save from their
ship he begged bis acceptance of.

THÈ NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
19
« God forbid !” answered the captain ; “ I have
done no more than humanity required of me."
It was now debated where they should land the
people that had been saved. The captain generously
resolved to go a hundred leagues out of his way, and
to carry them to Newfoundland, from whence they
might have an opportunity of returning to France.
To Newfoundland, therefore, they bent their
course; and found several French vessels there
which took on board the people of the ship that had
blown up.
As he had now, therefore, conducted them to
ships of their own nation, he continued his voyage
to the coast of Guinea.
Their course now was mostly directed to the
southward. One day, as they were steering in that
direction, they perceived a large ship making up
towards them. Presently after they heard them fire
some guns of distress, and could discern that they
had lost their foremast and bowsprit.
Edw. Bowsprit ? What is that?
Mr. Bill. Why, surely, you cannot have forgot
what that is.
Edw. Ah! right! It is a lesser mast that does
not stand straight up like the rest, but comes out
sloping, so, from the fore part of the ship.
Mr. Bill. Very well. They steered their course
to the ship in distress, and the people on board of
her cried out, “ For Heaven's sake have compassion
on us, and save our lives! We are at the last ex-
tremity, and must perish if you do not relieve us.”
The captain, therefore, asked them in what con-
sisted their distress; when one of their number an-
swered thus :
“ We are Englishmen, bound for the French
Island of Martinico-We took in a cargo of coffee
there; and while we were lying at anchor, there
arose so violent a storm that our cable was broke,

20
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
and we were driven out from the harbour into the
open sea. The hurricane"-
Geo. What is that, papa ?
Mr. Bill. It is a kind of whirlwind occasioned by
many winds blowing from different quarters, one
against the other.
“ The hurricane," continued he, “ blew furiously
three days and three nights. We lost our masts,
and were driven some hundreds of leagues out to
sea. Unfortunately we are most of us passengers,
with but one seaman and a boy or two on board to
work the ship; so that for nine weeks we have been
driven about at the mercy of the winds and waves :
all our provisions are gone, and many of us are
at this moment dying with hunger."
Immediately the captain ordered out his boat, took
some provisions, and went aboard the ship.
They found the crew reduced to the most deplo-
rable condition possible. But when they went into
the cabin-Heavens! what a shocking spectacle
they beheld! A mother, with her son and a young
maid servant, were stretched on the floor, and, to
all appearance, starved to death. The mother al-
ready quite stiff, was sitting on the ground between
two chairs tied together. The maid servant was
stretched at her length beside her mistress. As
to the young man, he was laid upon a bed, and had
still in his mouth a piece of a leather glove, of which
he had gnawed away the greatest part.
Harriet. Oh? papa, what a shocking account this
is !
Mr. Bill. Right-I had forgot that you did not
wish to hear any thing melancholy. Well, then, I
will pass by this story.
All. O no! O no! Dear papa, let us have the
whole of it now.
Mr. Bill. I must tell you, then, who these poor
people were that lay stretched in this deplorable
manner,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
21
They were coming passengers in this ship from
America to England. The mother was so remark-
Gably fond of her son, that she refused all manner of
tourishment purposely that he might have some-
thing to eat, and this excellent young man had done
the same thing, in order to reserve every thing for
his mother.
They were thouglit to be dead, all three, but, on
examination, appeared to have some remains of life :
for, after a few drops of broth had been forced into
their mouths, they began, by degrees, to open
their eyes. But the mother expired a few minutes
after.
The other two were brought to themselves by the
force of cordials, but when the young man turned
his eyes upon his mother, and saw that she was
dead, the shock made him fall again into a swoon.
However, they were fortunate enough to bring him
to his senses again, and he was, in a short time,
perfectly re-established.
The captain furnished the ship in distress with
all the provisions and stores he could possibly spare;
and gave the crew proper instructions for convey-
ing themselves to Madeira. He bent his course
thither also, on purpose to take in more provisions.
Mr. Bill. At this island the captain cast anchor;
and Robinson went ashore with him in the afternoon.
He could never sufficiently admire the beautiful
prospect which this fertile isle affords. As far as his
cyes coull see, the mountains were all covered with
vines.
They understood from those who were in the
vincyards, that in making wine they did not press
the grapes here in a wine-press, as they do in other
countries.
Geo. How then ?
Mr. Bill. They tumble the grapes into a large

22
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
tub, and then tread them with their feet, or bruise
them with their elbows.
Rich. Now I should not like to drink it, if it were
eyen made with the wine-press.
Charlotte. Why?
Pich. If you were to know all the harm that it
can do them!
Charlotte. Is he in earnest, papa ?
Mr. Bill. Yes, my dear. Children that drink
wine or other strong liquors often, become weak
and silly.
Mr. Bill. You will act very wisely, my dear.
As the captain was obliged to stop here some
time to repair his ship, Robinson's temper wanted
some change.
Just at this interval arrived a Portuguese ship
bound for Brazil, in South America.
Henry. Is it not a country belonging to the Portu-
guese ?
Mr. Bill. The very same.
Robinson got acquainted with the captain of this
ship, and would have given the world to make a
yoyage to Brazil, where he thought he should fill
his pockets with diamonds.
Edw. He did not know, I suppose, that in that
country precious stones are the sole property of
the king of Portugal.
Mr. Bill. And the reason that he did not know
was, because when he was young he would never
learn any thing.
Finding, therefore, that the English ship would
be obliged to stop longer, he could not resist his
desire of rambling. He, therefore, told the English
captain, that he was going to take a voyage to Bra-
zil. The captain was glad to get rid of him. He
agreed to take Robinson's venture for the money
that he had lent him in England.
Robinson, therefore, went aboard the Portu-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
28
guese. They passed pretty near the island of Te-
neriff
Harriet. Where that high mountain is to be seen
called the Peak of Teneriff; eh, papa?
Rich. Ay, ay, don't interrupt.
Mr. Bill. It was an admirable prospect to see the
top of that mountain shine long after sun-set with
the rays of the sun as if it had been all on fire.
For several days the voyage was as fine as possi-
ble; but all of a sudden a violent hurricane arose
from the south-east.
The seventh morning one of the sailors threw
the whole crew into a fit of extravagant joy, by cry-
ing out from the mast-head, land!
The whole crew hastened upon deck to see what
land this was ; but in the very moment their joy was
changed into terror: the ship struck, and all those
who were upon the deck received so violent a shock
as almost to throw them backwards.
Rich. What was the matter?
Mr. Bill. The ship had run upon a sand bank,
and stuck fast, and the foaming waves dashed over
the deck with such violence, that they were all ob-
liged to take refuge in the cabin and between decks
for fear of being carried overboard.
Suddenly some one cried out that the ship had
split. They ran upon deck, lowered the boat as fast
as possible, and all jumped into it with the ut-
most haste.
But there were now so many people in the boat,
that its sides were scarcely four inches above the
water. They exerted their whole strength in row-
ing, and fortunately the wind drove them towards
land. All at once they beheld a wave, mountain
high, rolling towards the boat. The huge wave
strikes the boat, oversets it, and all are at once swal-
lowed up in the deep!


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Here Mr. Billingsley made a stop. At length
Mrs. Billingsley arriving with the news that supper
was ready, put an end to these melancholy ideas.
THIRD EVENING.
GEORGE. Dear papa, is poor Robinson Crusoe
lost?
Mr. Bill. We left him last night in the most im-
minent danger of losing his life, the boat being
overset.
Robinson was swallowed up in the sea along with
the rest of the ship's company; but the same wave,
that dreadful wave, which had buried him in the
deep, at its return drew him along with it, and
dashed him towards the shore. He opened his
cyes, and exerted his strength to gain the top of
the beach. He alone was saved out of the whole
ship's company.
Trembling with fear and joy, he lifted up his
hands towards heaven, and while he shed a flood
of tears, returned thanks for his miraculous preser.
vation.
Rich. But, papa, why did God Almighty suffer
the rest to perish ?
Mr. Bill. Have you not learnt long ago, that God
knows all things better than we poor mortals do?
Since, therefore, God loves all mankind as his chil-
dren, it is impossible but he should do what is best
for our interest.
Geo. Without doubt.
Mr. Bill. Well, my dear Richard, do you wish
now to repeat the question that you asked me just
now.

20
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
IS
Rich. What question ?
Mr. Bill. Why the supreme disposer of things
saved only Robinson Crusoe, and suffered the rest
to perishe? Probably Robinson's life was preserved
to the end that affliction might be a school of wisdom
to him.
Keep this in remembrance, my dear child; and
instead of rashly endeavouring to reason or explain
the seeming inconsistency, say to yourself, “God
knows better than I what is for my good. I am
convinced that his dispensations of good and evil
are ever intended to render us better than we are."
Henry. Did Robinson think so upon that occasion ?
Mr. Bill. Yes, and praying to God for pardon, re-
solved to amend his life. When the joy that he felt
on his happy deliverance had subsided, he looked
about him, but could not perceive, on any side,
the least mark that the country was inhabited.
This was a dreadful necessity imposed upon him.
But his anxiety was still more dreadfully increased
when this reflection occurred to him, “What, if
there should be wild beasts or savages here, so
that I should not be able to live a moment in safe-
Charlotte. What are savages, papa ?
Rich. Savages are wild men. Have you never
heard talk of them, Charlotte ? In countries, a great,
great way off from this, there are men nearly as
wild as beasts.
Charlotte. Do they ever come here?
Mr. Bill. No: the countries where these unfor-
tunate people live are so far off that they never
come here.
Henry. Were there, then, any of those savages
in the country where Robinson Crusoe was thrown
by the storm ?
• Mr. Bill. That he could not tell himself as yet.
But having formerly heard that there were savages

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
in the islands in this part of the world, he thought
it very possible that there might be some on the
particular spot where he now was.
Geo. I do not doubt it.
Mr. Bill Fear, at first, rendered him motionless.
The question was, where he must pass the night?
distress brought tears into his eyes. At length he
resolved to imitate the birds and repose in a tree.
While he slept, his imagination represented to
him the transactions of the preceding day. The
cries of the seamen still sounded in his ears. A cold
sweat broke out all over his body : he cried aloud,
“ I am not lost, my dear parents; I am restored to
you once more :” and with these words he fell out
of the tree.
Harriet. Oh poor Robinson !
Geo. I suppose he is killed now.
Mr. Bil. Fortunately for him, his fall was not
severe. He, therefore, climbed up once more, and
lay quietly till sunrise.
Uncertain what he should do, he came down from
It was impossible now to add to his distress; “ Must
I, then, perish with hunger at last?” cried he.
However, necessity reanimated him with fresh
strength.
He thought of nothing now but of waiting the
approach of cleath. At length he perceived a num-
gerly towards the spot where they were, and his
joy was very great.
Rich. Are there oysters on land then ?
Mr. Bill. Why no, not properly. On the contra-
ry, they belong to the sea, and live in it. There
they fasten themselves to rocks, one upon another,
in immense quantities. Such a heap of them is
called a bed of oysters. Now, the waves, in dash-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ing against this, loosen several of the oysters, and
the tide carries them towards the shore. After-
wards, when the tide ebbs, and it is low water,
these oysters are left on the beach where it is then
dry.
Charlotte. You say when the tide ebbs, papa,
what is that?
Harriet. It is when the water that was so
before, runs back, and grows quite shallow.
Charlotte. What water?
Harriet. Why, the water where the tide comes
Mr. Mered. Charlotte, make your brother Rie
chard explain that to you.
Rich. When the water rises, it is called the flow.
ing of the tide ; and when it falls back, it is called
the ebb.
Mr. Bill. Besides this, you must know that, in
the course of four and twenty hours, the water of
the sea rises and falls.
Robinson was almost out of his wits for joy at
having found something to appease his raging hun
ger.
His greatest uneasiness was next to know where
he should dwell for the future, to be free from ali
dread of savages and wild beasts.
Geo. Oh! I know very well what I would have
done.
Mr. Bill. Well, what would you have done. ?
Geo. I would have built a house, with walls as
thick as that, and with iron gates--so strong! And
then I would have made a ditch with a drawbridge,
and this drawbridge I would have lifted up every
night.
Mr. Bill. Answer me one thing-Have you ever
carefully observed how carpenters and masons go
about building a house?
Geo. Oh! yes.

ZHE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
29
Edw. He had only to make himself a hut with
the branches that he could haye plucked from the
trees.
Mr. Bill. And could a little hut, made (f bran-
ches, have defended him from beasts of prey.
Edw. Could he shoot ?
Mr. Bill. Yes, if he had had only a gun, with pow-
der and ball; but once more I tell you, the poor lad
had nothing absolutely nothing but his two hands
to depend on.
When he viewed his situation, and saw that all
resources failed him, he fell again into his former
despondency.
He exerted his strength, and endeavoured to
find some safe retreat.
But in what part of the world was he? Was he
upon an island or a continent? This was more than
he could tell as yet himself; but he saw a pretty
high hill at a distance, and he walked towards it.
He climbed up to the top of the hill, from which
he could see to the distance of several leagues. To
his great mortification, he perceived that he was
really on an island, within sight of which there ap-
peared only three small islands that rose out of the
sea at the distance of a few leagues.
He continued on the spot, with his eyes fixed to
the ground : at length, however, thoughts more ra-
tional and consoling came to his relief.
Harriet. It was a good thing, however, that Ro-
binson could say his prayers in the time of distress.
Mr. Bill. What would have become of him if he
had not known that God is the father of mankind ?
He came to a little hill, which was as steep as a
wall, and found a place that seemed to be hollowed
in under it.
If he had had proper tools, it would have been
an easy matter to hollow out a complete dwelling
under the rock, but he had none of these tools.
3*

30 T HE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
After puzzling his head some time, he said, “I
will pluck up a number of these young trees, and
will plant them so that they may form a sort of
wall.
This happy thought was immediately put in exe-
cution. His joy was still greater when he saw a
clear spring bubbling out from the side of the hill,
and hastened to quench his thirst at it.
Geo. Was it so warm, then, in the island ?
Mr. Bill. Yes, you may easily imagine that it was
warm.
Robinson now set about plucking up some of the
young trees which he carried to the place he had
destined for his dwelling.
Hunger frequently obliged him to walk down
towards the shore in search of oysters. But where
was his bed ?
That he might not be exposed to the same acci-
dent as had disturbed him before, he took his gar-
ters, and fastened himself tightly to the branches on
which he lay.
Rich. That was wisely done of him to tie himself
TY
90.
Mr. Bill. Necessity is the mother of invention,
my dearest children,
FOURTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. Well, where did we leave Robin-
son last night?
Rich. We left him in a tree to take his night's
rest.
Mr. Bill. To proceed, then; he had no fall, and
slept soundly till morning,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
At break of day, he set off to look for oysters, in-
tending afterwards to return to his work. He hap-
pened this time to go another way, and, as he
walked along, was overjoyed to find a tree that
bore large fruit, some of which he knocked down
and ate.
Geo. What sort of a tree might it be, then?
Mr. Bill. It was a cocoa-nut tree.
Robinson's hunger was now satisfied, yet he did
not omit going down to the shore, to see what
show the oysters made that day.
He had picked up on the beach a large shell,
which served him instead of a spade. A little after
he discovered a plant, the stalk of which was full
of threads, like flax or hemp.
Having some hopes that this plant might be used
in the same manner as flax or hemp, he plucked
up a quantity of it, tied it up in small bundles, and
left them to soak in water.
He then endeavoured to turn the stringy part
of these plants to use by making small cords of it.
It is true they were not so well twisted as those
made by our rope-makers here, for he had neither
wheel nor a second person to assist him.
He then went on with his work very diligently,
and planted tree by tree until he had completely
palisadoed the space before his intended dwelling.
Every morning and evening he watered his plant-
ation; and he had very soon the satisfaction of see-
ing his young trees flourish charmingly.
All this being finished, he considered by what
means he might make the little hollow under the
rock large enough to serve him for a habitation.
He saw very well, that with his hands alone he
should never be able to manage it, and therefore
repaired to a spot where he had seen a great num-
ber of hard green stones scattered on the ground,
and he succeeded to his wish. Laying, therefore, the


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ISOD
velge of the one stone upon the earth and rock, and
striking it with the other, he knocked off several
pieces of the rock.
He had before this plucked up a quantity of grass
which he had spread before the sun to make hay of
it. From this time he was able to sleep like a hu-
man creature, without being obliged to perch upon
a tree.
The following day was Sunday. Robinson dedi-
cated it to rest, to prayer, and meditation.
Harriet. Well, I think Robinson is grown better
than he was.
Mr. Bill. And that he might not forget the order
of days, Robinson thought of making himself an al-
manac.
Rich. An almanac ?
Mr. Bill. Yes; an almanac, by which he was able
to count the days regularly.
Rich. And how did he manage that?
Mr. Bill. Having neither paper nor any thing
else requisite for writing, he chose four trees that
were close beside each other, and pretty smooth
on the bark. On these he made his remarks.
Mr. Bill. Our friend Robinson took care not to
lose the order of time, but to know on what days
the Sabbath fell, that he might keep it holy.
In the mean time, he had used the greatest part
of the cocoa-nuts that he had stored up, and the
shore furnished him with so few oysters, that they
were not sufficient to keep him alive ; he was, there-
fore, compelled by necessity, it possible, to disco-
ver a new stock of provisions. With this intent he
resolved, the following day, to traverse the whole
island.
But in order to defend himself from the exces.
sive heat of the sun, he spent the whole evening
making an umbrella, in the best manner he could.
He bethought himself of trying to make himself

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
a bag that might hold his provision, if he should be
so lucky as to find any in his excursion. He turn-
ed this scheme in his thoughts, and at length suc-
eeeded in finding means to accomplish it, which he
completed, and the happy success of his labour filled
him with so much joy that he was scarce able to
elose his eyes all night.
Geo. I should like to have such a bag as that.
Edw. So should I too, if we had only some pack-
thread.
Mrs. Bill. If you wish to enjoy as much satisfac-
tion from your work as Robinson did from his, you
should try to make the packthread yourselves; but,
as there is neither flax nor hemp at this time of the
year, I will furnish you with packthread.
Geo.-Oh! dear mama, will you be so good ?
Mrs. Bill. Yes, my dear, if you desire it.
Geo. That is delightful.
Harriet. You are doing what is very right; eh,
дара?
Mr. Bil. Well, make a trial.
FIFTH EVENING.
THE next evening, the company being assem.
bied in the usual place, Edward came strutting in
with a pouch of network that he had made him.
self, and which drew the eyes of the whole compa.
ny upon him. Instead of an umbrella, he had bor-
Towed a sieve, and stuck a broomstick through it.
This he held over his head, and marched up to the
table with a great deal of importance.
Mrs. Bill. Bravo, Edward! why I had almos:
taken you for Robinson himself
nard

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
35
Mr. Billingsley, (opening a closet door, and fetch-
ing out an umbrella which he had made himself.)
What say you so this, Mr. Robinson Crusoe ?
Edw. Ah! that is a fine one.
Mr. Bill. I keep it until we come to the end of the
story. Robinson rose before the sun, and prepared
for his journey. He slipped his pouch-string over
his neck, put a strong cord round his waist, in
which he stuck his hatchet, took his umbrella upon
his shoulder, and began his march.
The morning was delightful, and Robinson felt
his heart expand with gratitude. “Even here,"
said he, “doth the Creator of the Universe show
himself the most beneficent of beings!”
As his fear of wild animals was not yet dissipa-
ted, he avoided all forests and thickets, choosing
such grounds as allowed him an open prospect on
every side. At last he observed a parcel of plants,
which he resolved to inspect: they were growing
together in tufts, and formed a kind of little cop-
pice. Some of them were covered with little green
apples.
He eagerly bit one of these apples, but found it
unfit for eating, which so vexed him, that he was
going to fling it away with all his force, when he
perceived a number of round knobs hanging from
the roots. He immediately suspected that these
were properly the fruit of the plant, and therefore
began to examine them.
The fruit was hard and disagreeable to the palate.
Robinson had a mind to throw the whole away ; but
recollected that a thing should not be reckoned use.
less, because we cannot immediately discover the
utility of it.
Rich. I know what these knobbed fruit were ;
they were potatoes. Surely Robinson was stupid
not to know potatoes.
Mr. Bill. It is wrong to be too hasty in blaming

THE NEW ROBINSON C
INSON ?
CRUSOEothers. We should always put ourselves in their
place, and first ask the question if we could have
done better than they. Robinson, perhaps, had
never seen potatoes, which were then by no means
so common in England as at present.
Robinson continued his walk with a great deal of
caution. At length he arrived on the banks of a
rivulet, where he resolved to make his dinner. He
seated himself at the foot of a large branchy tree,
when a noise at a distance threw him in a terrible
fright. He looked round, and, at length perceived
a whole troop of
Edw. Oh la ! savages, I suppose.
Geo. Or else lions and tigers.
Mr. Bill. Neither one nor the other; but a troop
of lamas. Their country is properly that part of
Americ, which is called Peru. The Peruvians ta.
med this animal, and were accustomed to load it,
and use it for a beast of burthen. Of its wool they
made stuffs for clothing.
Rich. Then the people of Peru were not so sa-
avage as the other Americans.
Mr. Bill. No; they lived in houses properly
built; as did also the Mexicans; they had built
magnificent temples, and were governed by kings.
Geo. Is it not from this country that the Spa-
wiards draw all that gold and silver for which they go
every year to America, in their galleons ?
Mr. Bill. The same. Robinson, seeing these
lamas approach, felt a violent desire to eat some
roast meat, which he had not tasted for so long a
time. He therefore killed one of them.
Harriet. Oh fy! how could he do so?
Mrs. Bill. And why should he not, Harriet ?
Harriet. The poor little thing had done him no
warm ; so he might have let it live.
Mrs. Bill. He might so ; but he had occasion
for the Nesh of this animal for his food and nourish-


38
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ment; and God hath permitted us to make use of
animals whenever we have the like occasion.
Mr. Bill. To kill any living creature without ne-
cessity, or to torture it, is cruelty ; but to draw all
the advantage possible from them, and even to kill
them and use their flesh for our nourishment, is not
forbidden.
Rich. Ah! very true; if we had no occasion for
animals, how many of them would be starved to
death in a hard winter ?
Henry. Yes; and they would suffer still more if
they were not killed, because they cannot assist each
other as men do.
Mr. Bill. Again, we must not suppose that their
death causes them a great deal of pain. They are
not sensible beforehand that they are going to be
killed, and the pain, while they are killing is soon
past.
Robinson never thought of asking himself, how
he was to dress the flesh of this lama, until the
moment that he had killed it.
Harriet. Dear me ! could not he boil it or roast it?
Mr. Bill. That is what he would have done, but
he had neither pot nor spit, and, what is worse, he
had not even fire.
Harrict. No fire? Why then all he had to do was
to light one.
Mr. Bill. True, if he had had a flint and steel,
tinder and matches; but he had none of them.
Rich. I know what I would have done.
Mr. Bill. What, pray ?
Rich. I would have rubbed two bits of dry wood
one against the other until they took fire.
Mr. Bill. Robinson had exactly the same idea.
He took up the lama, therefore, upon his shoul-
ders, and turned his steps homewards.
His first business was to skin the young lama.
He stretched the skin in the sun in order to dry it,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
39
because he foresaw that it might be of service to
him.
Rich. Why, what could he make of that.
Mr. Bill. In the first place, his shoes and stock-
ings began to be full of holes. He thought that,
when his shoes were gone, he might make soles of
this skin. Besides, the thoughts of winter troubled
him, and he was glad that he had found a way to fur-
nish himself with fur against the severity of the cold.
It is true, he might have spared himself this un-
casiness; for, in the country where he now was,
there was never any winter.
Geo. Never any winter?
Mr. Bill. The cold of winter is seldom felt in
any of those hot climates between the two tropics.
Rich. But, papa, I think, we read once how very
high mountains, like the Peak of Teneriff, are al-
ways covered with snow.
Mr. Bill. You are right, my dear Richard. Si-
tuations very high and mountainous are an excep-
tion; for upon the tops of these high mountains
there is commonly a perpetual snow. Do you re-
member too what I told you of some countries in the
East Indies, when we were looking over Sealy's
instructive Geographical Dictionary.
Rich. Yes; that in some countries there, sum-
mer and winter are but two or three leagues asun-
der. In the island of Ceylon, which belongs to the
Dutch ; and
Mr. Bill. And also in the peninsula on this side
of the Ganges : for, when it is winter upon the
coast of Malabar, upon the coast of Coromandel it
is summer, and so alternately. The same is the
case also in the island of Ceram, one of the Mo-
luccas, where a man needs only to travel three
leagues to get out of winter into summer, or out
of summer into winter.
After Robinson had skinned the lama, and cut

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
off a hind quarter to roast, his first care was to
provide a spit.
He wanted nothing now but fire. In order to
produce it he cut two pieces of wood, and imm-
diately rubbed so briskly, that the sweat ran down
his face in great drops ; but when the wood was
heated until it smoked, he found himself so fatigued
that he was under an absolute necessity to stop a
few moments; in the mean time the wood cooled,
anıl his whole labour became useless.
Here again he had a lively instance of the help-
lessness of man in a state of solitude, and what
mighty advantages the society of other men affords
US.
Robinson threw away the picces of wood, sat
down upon his bed of hay in a melancholy mood,
and, sighing heavily, cast a look upon the fine joint
of meat, which was likely now to remain on the
spit without roasting. He recollected at length to
have heard that the Tartars put the meat which
they mean to eat under their horses saddles, and so
bake it at full gallop.
He then went to seek two pieces of stone, be-
tween which he placed a piece of meat, and began
immediately to strike upon the uppermost stone
with his stone mallet. After five or six minutes,
the stone began to grow hot, so that in less than
half an hour, the meat was grown quite tender and
fit to eat.
No doubt the taste of it was not so good as if it
had been properly roasted ; but to Robinson, who
had been so long a time without tasting meat, it
was a delicious morsel.
When he had made an end of eating, he deba-
ted in his mind what work would be the most ne-
cessary to set about. The dread of winter made
him think of taking or killing a great number of
tamas, merely to provide himself with skins,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
47
With this hope he went to bed, and a sound re-
freshing sleep repaid him richly for all his fatigues
during the day.
SIXTH EVENING.
MR. BILLINGSLEY continued the story of
Robinson Crusoe in these words :
When he awoke, he was going directly to take
the field against the lamas ; but no sooner did he
put his head out of the caye, than he was obliged
to draw it in again.
Harriet. How was that, papa ?
Mr. Bill. It rained as hard as it could pour. He
resolved, therefore, to wait until the shower was
over.
But there appeared no likelihood of this, as it
grew more and more violent. The earth trem-
bled, and the echoes of the mountains repeated the
thunder so often, that the roar seemed to be with-
out end.
As Robinson had not received a good education,
it was natural enough for him to be afraid of the
storm.
Geo. What, afraid of thunder and lightning?
Mr. Bill. Yes, so frightened, that he did not
know where to hide himself.
Geo. How could it frighten him?
Mr. Bill. I cannot well assign a reason for this
fear. Perhaps it is, that the collection of sulphur,
salt, and nitre, which produces the explosion of
thunder, does sometimes, destroy the lives of those
who are exposed to it.
Rich: Yes; but these accidents are very rare.

Kalau
kcal
i

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Mr. Bill. Besides, how many advantages does
the storm bring with it! It purges the air of sul-
phurous vapours ; renders it much fitter to pro-
mote the vegetation of plants; and presents us
with the most awful spectacle in nature.
Robinson, as you remember, had been ill in-
structed in his youth. This was the reason why
he knew not how great an advantage storms are : he
sat in a corner of his cave, oppressed with most
dreadful anxiety.
Robinson's terror had taken away his appetite;
his imagination was disquieted with the most
frightful ideas.
The time is come,” said he to himself, “ when
God will make me suffer the punishment due to
my transgressions. He has withdrawn from me
his fatherly protection.”
Mr. Mered. I am not pleased with Robinson this
time.
Edw. Why not, Sir ?
Mr. Mered. Had not his merciful Creator done
enough already in his favour, to convince him that
he never forsakes those who trust in him sincerely,
and whose contrition is undissembled.
Mrs. Bill. I am of your opinion, Mr. Meredith;
nevertheless, let us have compassion on the poor
youth. It was impossible for him to have made so
great a progress as one who had studied to become
wiser and better.
Mr. Bill. Your compassion for poor Robinson is
as just as it is worthy of your tender nature. I
begin to have a regard for him, as he has been
some time past in the right way.
While he sat thus desponding, the storm began
to abate. He thought he should now be able to set
out on his expedition against the lamas, when all
at once, he fell backwards quite stunned and sense-
less.
cht he ainst the unned a

4.4
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Rich. Hey-day! What was the matter with him,
then ?
Mr. Bill. It seems the lightning had struck against
the tree which grew on the top of the cave, and
shattered it all to pieces. Robinson remained on
the ground a considerable time. At length, per-
ceiving that he was still alive, he rose up, and the
Dject that he beheld before the door of his cave
was part of the tree which the lightning had torn in
pieces, and thrown drown.
As the rain had now totally ceased, he took cou.
rage to go out; and then what did he see?
That which, in a moment, filled him with grati-
tude towards his Creator, and covered him with con.
fusion for suffering himself to fall into despond-
ency. You must know, the trunk of the tree
which had been struck by the lightning was all on
fire. Thus Robinson found himself, in a moment,
master of that which he had most wanted ; and thus
divine providence had taken particular care of him,
at the moment when he imagined he was entirely
abandoned.
From that time he had fire, without having had
the least trouble in lighting it; and as it had not yet
reached the lower part of the tree, to which his
ladder of ropes was fastened, he could mount in
perfect security. He took a burning splinter of the
tree, descended again into the enclosure before his
cave, and kindled a good fire.
And now he set about performing the duty of a
cook. He tended the fire and turned the spit very
care fully; and during the rest of his life, as often
as he saw or thought of fire, he never failed to say
within himself, " That also God gave me.”.
Mr. Mered. Fire, which preserves all that breathe
on this earth, is the noblest of all elements.
Mr. Bill. Hence it is that the worship of fire

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
45
hath been very common amongst the ignorant pa-
gans.
Mr. Mered. Thank heaven we are better instruct-
ed; and know that fire is a gift of god's bounty, like
water, earth, and air, which he hath created from
the love he bears us.
Mr. Bill. Robinson, during his repast the day be-
fore, had only regretted the want of salt. He hoped,
however, in time, to find some in his island; for the
present he contented himself with going to the shore
and bringing home some sea-water, with which he
sprinkled his meat.
The main point now was how to keep his fire
always.
Geo. That he could easily manage by adding
constantly fresh wood.
Mr. Bill. Very good. But at night, if there came
a sudden shower, what was he to do then ?
Harriet. I would have made the fire in my cave
where the rain could not come.
Mr. Bill. No bad thought. But, his cave was so
small, that it just served him to lie down in: and,
then, chimney he had none; so that the smoke
would have been inconvenient to him.
Harriet. Nay, in that case I do not know how to
assist him.
Rich. What a terrible situation! There must
always happen something to puzzle poor Robinson.
Mr. Bill. This may show you how extremely
difficult it is for one man singly to provide for all his
own necessities. A thousand hands are not suffi-
etent to prepare what each of us wants every day.
Rich. Oh! papa !
Mr. Bill. What! do you think that incredible ?
Well, let us reckon how many things you have
had occasion for this day. In the first place, you
have slept on a good bed.
Rich. With a mattress underneath..

6
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Mr. Bill. Very well. Mattresses are stuffed witir:
horse hair: this horse hair requires two hands to
cut it, two more to weigh and sell it, two to pack
it up and send it off, two to receive it and unpack it,
and, two, again, to sell it to the saddler or up-
holsterer : lastly, the upholsterer's hands find em.
ployment in picking it and filling the mattress with
it. The cover of this mattress is ticking; where
has that been made ?
Rich. At the weaver's.
Mr. Bill. And how?
Rich. In a loom, with thread, and a shuttle, and
paste, and
Mr. Bill. That is enough. How many hands did
it take to make the loom? Let us be moderate, and
say, for instance, 20. Paste is made of flour. What
a number of things must be done before we can
have flour! How many hundreds of hands must
be moved to make every thing that belongs to a
mill, where wheat is ground into flour! But to
return to the weaver: thread is what he principally
uses; where does he get this?
Rich. From the women who spin it.
Mr. Bill. Out of what?
Rich. Flax.
Mr. Bill. And do you know, again, through how
many hands flax must pass before it can be spun.
Rich. Oh yes : in the first place, the husbandman
sifts the flax seed: then the land must be ploughed
twice; after which they Sow, and then harrow.
Next, when the flax begins to sprout up, a number
of women and girls come to weed it. Again, when
it grows to a proper height, they pluck up the
stalks, and ripple them in order to pull off the little
round heads that contain the seed.
Edw. Yes, and then they tie the stalks together
in bundles, and steep them in water.
Henry. And when the bundles have been steep-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ed long enough, they take them up out of the wa-
ter.
Geo. And spread them in the sun to dry.
Charlotte. Then they clear the flax from the hulls
with a break.
Harriet. Not yet, my dear Charlotte; it must be
well pounded first.
Charlotte. Very true, and then they break it, and
then-
Rich. And then they scutch it, and then they
hackle it to separate it from the tow.
Mr. Bill. Now put together all these things, and
you must own I do not exceed the truth in saying
that more than a thousand hands have been employ-
ed in the making of your mattress.
Geo. A thousand hands! It is wonderful, and yet
it is very true.
Mr. Bill. In the next place, consider how many
things you have daily occasion for, and then pray
tell me, should it surprise us that Robinson Crusoe
found himself at a stand, when not another hand in
the world but his own worked for him, and when he
had not a single one of those instruments by means
of which things in this part of the world are so easi-
ly and expeditiously made,
At this time, therefore, what puzzled him was the
finding of some method or other to hinder his fire
from going out. At last he fixed his eyes by chance
on the rock at the edge of his cave, and that mo-
ment the thought struck him how he was to act.
Henry. Eh ! how was that ?
Mr. Bill. There projected out of the rock, about
a yard from the ground, a very large and thick
ledge of stone.
Charlotte. How large might it be?
Mr. Bill. I will suppose it was about as long as
I am ; its breadth and thickness might be a yard
and a half.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
aine
bricks. Acara
in a spot number of
Though it had rained very hard, the ground un
der this piece of the rock was perfectly dry. Ro-
binson saw at once that this spot would answer
every purpose of a fire-place, and therefore resolved
to go immediately to work about it.
With his spade he hollowed the ground. After
that, he conceived the idea of enclosing this ground
with two small walls.
Geo. But how could he make walls ?
Mr. Bill. He had observed a sort of clay in his
island, upon sight of which he immediately said to
himself,“ Perhaps this clay would make good
bricks, if ever I should have occasion to build a
wall."
The rain had made the clay so soft, that he found
no difficulty in shaping it to the form of bricks. After
preparing a pretty good number of these bricks, he
placed them in a spot where the sun shone all day.
He determined to go on with this work the next
day, and in the mean time returned home to eat the
rest of his roast meat.
The repast was excellent. « Ah !” said Robinson,
“ how happy should I be at this moment, if I had
but one single friend to bear me company, whom I
might call my friend. Had I, at least, the happi-
ness of being master of some tame animal, to whom
I might show kindness in order to gain its affection!
But to live thus solitary, as if I were the only be-
ing upon the earth!"- Here a few tears dropped
down his cheeks.
He then recalled to memory the time, when, hav.
ing it in his power to enjoy the sweet society of
his brothers and other companions, he nevertheless
had frequently quarrelled and disputed with them :
- Oh, if I could now begin to pass those days over
again, with what complaisance and good nature
would I behave towards my brothers and other chil-
dren! How patiently would I put up with small
He detens

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
offences, and would I exert myself to charm every
body with my gentleness and good behaviour!
Heavens! why did I not know how to value the hap-
piness of friendship until I had lost that happiness---
alas ! lost it for ever?”
With these words he turned his eyes towards the
had spread its web in a corner. The thought of
lying under the same roof with some living creature
so filled him with joy, that he did not trouble himself
in the least about the species of the animal.
As it was still day, Robinson did not choose to go
to bed yet, and that he might employ the time in some-
what useful, he began to hollow out the ground for
his kitchen. In doing this, he struck upon some-
thing hard, and was very near breaking his spade.
He took it at first for a stone; but what was his
astonishment, when, having drawn out a great heavy
lump of something, he discovered it to be--pure
gold !
Rich. Gracious! Well, he certainly has surpri-
sing luck, this Mr. Robinson Crusoe.
Mr. Bill. Surprising luck indeed! This mass of
gold was so thick, that, had it been coined, it would
have produced upwards of 10,0001. Behold him,
therefore, a man of vast fortune! What a number
of things could he procure himself now ! He could
build himself a fine house; he could have a car-
riage, horses, footmen-
Geo. Ay; but where was he to have all these
things in his island ?
Mr. Bill. Oho! I had forgot. Robinson, however,
did not; so that, instead of rejoicing for the trea-
sure that he had found, he kicked it from him
with contempt, and said, “ Of what use art thou to
me? How willingly would I give thee for a handful
of iron nails, or for some useful instrument !" He

50
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE,
left, therefore, all this precious treasure on the
ground, and scarce thought it worth a look.
Harriet. He did as the cock did.
Mr. Bill. What cock?
Harriet. Oh! do you forget the fable that you
read to us one day? Once upon a time there was a
cock-
Mr. Bill. What next?
Harriet. That scratched upon a dunghill, and
found a-what was it?
Mr. Bill. A pearl ?
Harriet. Ah! yes; a pearl-And then he said,
"Of what use art thou to me with all thy brightness?
If I had found, instead of thee, a grain of barley, it
would have been of much more service to me."
Mr. Bill. Just so did Robinson with the lump of
n
gold.
Night now came on. The sun had for some time
sunk beneath the main-
Geo. What, in the sea ?
Mrs. Bill. So it appears to those who live in an
island, and see nothing around them but water.
The moon rose bright at the other end of the
heavens, and shone so beautifully that it hindered
him from going to sleep.
Harriet. Oh ! look, look, dear papa; our moon
too begins to appear yonder.
Rich. Ob! what an enchanting sight! how mild
her light is ! how pleasing !
Mr. Bill. Well, my dears, Robinson is asleep,
while his fire, kept up by large pieces of wood, con-
tinues to burn slowly. Now, what do you think of
doing in the mean time?
Edw. I think, at least, that I shall hardly sleep
much to night, I am so impatient to know the rest
of Robinson's adventures.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
SEVENTH EVENING.
THE following evening, before Mr. Billingsley be-
gan the continuation of Robinson Crusoe's history,
he expressed himself thus : I hope, my dear chil-
dren, that, in relating this history to you, I do not
detain you from any employment more agreeable
or improving. I would not put the least constraint
on you; so that whenever our friend Robinson
grows tiresome to you-
Edw. Tiresome, papa ? It is impossible.
Mr. Bill. Then I proceed.
As the heat was excessive in Robinson's island
during the day-time, he was obliged, whenever he
undertook any thing laborious, to work at it very
early in the morning, or else in the cool of the
evening. He rose, therefore, before the sun, put
fresh wood to his fire, and ate the half of a cocoa.
nut that he had left the evening before.
He now prepared to set out for the clay-pit; and
worked so hard, that before twelve o'clock he had
prepared as many bricks as he thought he should
have occasion for to complete his kitchen. He
next went down to the beach to look for some oys.
ters; and discovered, to his great joy, another sort
of food, much better than any that he had found yet.
Rich. What was that papa ?
Mr. Bill. A turtle, and so large, that it is rare
to see the like in those parts. It might weigh
100lb.
Geo Why, it must have been a monster of a tur.
tle.

WA
UWA
Whilf
WAMI

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
53
Tower
Mr. Bill. Robinson loaded his s'oulders with his
prize, and marched slowly homewards. When he
arrived at his cell, his first care was to come at the
flesh of the turtle, which he did by cutting open the
lower shell that covered its belly; he then killed it,
and cut off a good part of it to roast.
He considered what he must do with the rest of
the turtle to keep it from tainting. To salt it would
have been the only effectual way, but then he had
neither tub nor salt.
It filled him with concern to think that all that
fine turtle must be unfit to eat the next day. All at
once a thought struck him. The upper shell of
the turtle was shaped like a large bowl. “That,"
said he, “ shall serve me for a trough to salt it in-
but where is the salt ?
“Only think, what a great fool I must be !” cried
he, “cannot I steep this meat in sea-water, and will
not that have nearly the same effect that brine would
have ?"
His turtle was now nicely done. “Ah !” said
Robinson, after he had tasted it, “ if one had the
least morsel of bread with this ! How stupid was I,
in my youth, not to know that we should thank God
for a bit of dry bread !"
While taken up with these reflections, he recol-
lected some potatoes that he had left in the ashes
before he went out in the morning. “Let us see,"
said he, how they will turn out;" and he took up
one of them.
Here was new cause for rejoicing! The fruit
was in effect as agreeable as any European potatoe.
In short, Robinson made a magnificent repast;
after which, he threw himself on the bed to consi-
der what work he should begin when the violence
of the heat was over.
" What piece of work," said he, “ should I un-
dertake at present? The best way, certainly, will

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
C
be to go and kill a couple of lamas. But what am
I to do with such a quantity of meat ? What, if I
should hang up some of it to dry in the smoke of
my kitchen?”
He presently saw that the thing might be done.
It was an easy matter to hang his hams and flitches
up in the smoke of the chimney. This happy thought
he resolved to execute. What would he have
given that his bricks were already hard enough, that
he might begin the grand work that very moment.
While he meditated what was to be done a fresh
thought struck him.
Rich. What was it, then?
Mr. Bill. He resolved, in order that he might
have company, and provide for his subsistence, to
bring up some tame animals.
Geo. Ah! some of the lamas, I dare say.
Mr. Bill. Right. In fact, these were the only
animals that he had seen hitherto.
Geo. I should like to be along with him, to have
some lamas.
Mr. Bill. But pray, George, how would you
contrive it? They were hardly so tame as to let
themselves be caught.
Geo. Then how did Robinson mean to do?
Mr. Bill. Attend, my dear children, to the in-
'structions of an affectionate parent, and never de-
spair of success in any labour or difficulty whatsoe-
yer. Unwearied application, constant reflection, and
a courage that perseveres in spite of every obsta-
cle, have often brought enterprizes to a period
which were at first deemed impracticable.
Robinson soon succeeded in hitting upon a me-
thod to take the lamas alive.
Rich. What was it?
Mr. Bil, He proposed to make a noose upon a
cord, and, hiding himself behind a tree, to throw
the noose over the head of the first lama that
should approach,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
As the place by which the lamas were accustom-
ed to pass, in their way to the water, was pretty
far off, he put off till the next day the execution
of his project : in the mean time he made the pre-
parations requisite for the journey,
He went to the spot where the potatoes grew,
and filled his bag with them. Part of them he put
down in the warm ashes to roast, and the rest he
threw into a corner of his cave. In the next place,
he cut off a pretty large piece of his turtle and
steeped what remained in sea-water.
For the rest of the afternoon, he indulged him-
self with a walk along the sea-side. His eyes tra-
versed with pleasure the immense ocean ; he turn-
ed them fondly towards the part of the world where
his dear country was situated, and a few trembling
tears trickled down his cheeks at the remembrance
of his beloved parents.
“What are they doing now, those poor disconso.
late parents ?” cried he, bathed in tears, and elasp-
ing his hands together. Oh, my dearest, best of
fathers ! my tender, affectionate mother! pardon
ah, pardon your unhappy son for thus afflicting you !
And thou, Oh Heavenly Father, at present my only
father, my only society, my only support and pro-
tector !"-[here he threw himself upon his knees
in a posture of adoration.
At length he rose, and with his knife of fint, he
cut out upon the bark of a tree, the much loved
names of his parents. Over them he placed these
words, “God bless you!” and below, “Mercy to
your lost son!” After that, his lips, warm with
affection, kissed the names which he had cut out,
and he bedewed them with his tears.
Geo. He might now, therefore, return to his pa-
rents, if Providence thought fit.
Mr. Bill. God, who foresees every thing that
will happen, knows best what is for the advantage

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ce
of any man, and will regulate the events of his life
accordingly. It is true, circumstances have kin-
dled a spark of virtue in Robinson's breast, but
who can tell, if he was at this moment taken from
his island, and restored to his father's house, whe-
ther the infection of example and prosperity would
not corrupt him once more ? Oh, my children, how
just is this precept, “Let him that standeth take
heed lest he fall."
While Robinson walked backwards and forwards
on the beach, it occurred to him that he would do
well to bathe himself.
He amused himself with swimming out from
shore towards a neck of land that extended pretty
far into the sea.
Charlotte. A neck of land ? What is that?
Mr. Bill. It is a long piece of land, one end of
which joins an island or a continent, and the other
stretches out into the sea. You understand ?
Charlotte. Oh, perfectly.
Mr. Bill. This thought of Robinson's was very
lucky; for he found that the neck of land was co-
vered, on the ebbing of the tide, with a considera-
ble quantity of turtles, oysters, and muscles, which
were left behind. The discovery of them afforded
him no small degree of satisfaction.
Pleased with these discoveries, he came out of
the water, after having been full an hour in it, and,
after he had dressed himself, returned to his habi-
tation, frequently repeating to himself, “ The Lord
be praised for all things !"
Harriet. Oh, how I should like to see Robinson !
I am very fond of him.
Geo. If papa would only give me paper, I should
like to write him a letter.
Edw. So would I too.
Rich. And it would give me great pleasure to
write to him,
5S
OSO

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE,
57
Harriet. So it would me, if I knew how to write.
Mrs. Bill. My dear, you shall tell me what you
would say to him ; I will write for you.
Harriet. Oh, thank ye, mamma, that will do charm-
ingly!
Mrs. Bill. Come, then, I will give you all paper.
Upon this, they retired to the next room for
about half an hour, at the end of which time they
all returned in great spirits with each a letter in
their hand.
Harriet. Here, papa, here is my letter; pray be
so good as to read it.
Mr. Billingsley reads:
"My dear Robinson,
"Take pains to be industrious and good. You
Bow see how useful it is to suffer a little hardship.
Come some day and see us. I will then tell you
more.
HARRIET.”
Geo. Now mine, papa; here it is.
Mr. Billingsley reads :
“My dear friend,
“We wish you all the happiness possible, and as
soon as I get some pocket money I will buy you
something. And go on, as you have begun, to be
a good lad. I wish you well, dear Robinson, and
am,
Your faithful friend,
GEORGE BILLINGSLEY.
Twickenham, Feb. 8, 1788.”
Edw. Well, here is mine ; but I fear it is too
Mr. Billingsley reads :
« Dear Robinson,
"I am sorry that you are so unfortunate. Wf you
short.

58
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE,
had staid at home, these misfortunes would never
have happened.
So I am, your faithful friend,
EDWARD BILLINGSLEY."
Rich. Now mine. It is my turn next.
Mr. Billingsley reads:
“Honoured Robinson,
"I pity you very much. I wish that you may be
able some day or other to return to your dear pa-
rents. I say, again, take care of your health. I am,
Your sincere friend,
RICHARD BILLINGSLEY.
Twickenham, Feb. 7, 1788."
Henry. Mine I am afraid, is good for nothing.
Mr. Bill. Let us see.
Henry. I only wrote a few words in a hurry,
that I might have done as soon as the rest.
Mr. Billingsley reads :
“ My dear Mr. Crusoe,
“ How goes the world with you yonder in your
island? I am told you have met with a good many
turns of fortune. I understand too, that you have
found a great lump of gold; but there in your
island it is of no service to you. It would have
been better for you, had you found some iron in-
stead of it: you could, then, have made yourself a
knife, a hatchet, and other tools. I wish you well;
and am,
Your faithful friend,
HENRY BILLINGSLEY.
Twickenham, Feb. 7, 1788."
Geo. But now, after all, how are we to send our
letters?
Harriet. We need only give them to some cap.
tain of a ship that is going to South America.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
59
as
Rich. (whispering his father) They are so soft as
to think that Robinson Crusoe is still alive.
Mr. Bill. My dear children, I thank you, in Ro-
binson's name, for the kindness that you show him;
but as to these letters, it won't be in my power to
send them.
Geo. La! why not?
Mr. Bill. Robinson has been long since in hea.
ven.
Geo. Ah! what, is he dead? and but just now he
has been bathing himself!
Mr. Bill. You forget, my dear George, that what
I relate to you concerning Robinson Crusoe, hap-
pened fifty years ago. But I will have your letters
printed in his history.
Harriet. Oh! that will be charming. But in the
mean time , I suppose, papa, you will go on telling
us something of him.
Mr. Bill. With pleasure. Robinson, after bathing
himself, went home to his dwelling-place, ate his
supper, and went to rest contentedly.
And it is time for us to do so too.
EIGHTH EVENING..
MR. BILL. Robinson rose the next morning and
prepared for the chace.
It was very early ; he resolved, therefore, for this
time, to take a round, in order to make himself ac-
quainted with some other parts of his island.
He discovered, in the course of his walk, some-
thing lie on the ground which excited his curiosity,
and found, to his great satisfaction, that it was som
what do you think?

60
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Henry, Pearls, perhaps.
Mr. Bill. What he found was-salt.
Hitherto he had, in some respect, supplied the
want of salt with sea-water; but, after all, that was
not salt. The sea-water has a bitter taste which is
very disagreeable: and, besides, it was a mistake
to think that meat salted in this manner would keep;
because sea-water, as well as that of a spring or ri-
ver, grows stinking after it has stood some time.
Geo. How did that salt come there, papa ?
Mr. Bill. When any sea-water is left upon the
land, after a high tide, or a flood, the sun makes
the water by degrees to evaporate, and what re-
mains on the spot is then salt.
Harriet. Well, that is comical.
Mr. Bill. See with what kindness heaven pro-
vides for us!
Robinson went in high spirits to the place where
he hoped to noose a lama. When he came there,
he saw none; he sat down, therefore, at the foot
of a tree, to regale himself with his roast turtle and
potatoes.
Just as he had finished his meal, the lamas ap-
peared at a distance. Robinson quickly placed him-
self in a posture of attack, when, presently, there
came up one so near to him, that he scarce need-
ed more than to drop the noose to have him fast in
it. He did so, and that moment the lama was his
prisoner.
This lama was a female, and had two young ones,
which followed her, and did not appear to be the
least afraid of him. He patted the pretty little
things, and they just as if they would have beg-
ged of him to let their mother go-licked his
hands.
Geo. Well, then, I think he might have let her
go.
Mr. Bill. But he had occasion for it; and you

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
61
ob
know, my dear George, we are permitted to make
use of animals in case of need, provided we do
not abuse them.
Robinson was transported with joy at having SO
happily attained his object. He dragged the crea-
ture along with all his strength.
On Robinson's arrival at his dwelling, a difficulty
arose how to get the lama into his enclosure; when,
being unable to effect this, he resolved to make up
a little stable just by to keep it in; and fastening
the animal to a tree, he immediately cut down a
number of young trees, and fixed them in the
ground, so close one beside the other, that they
formed a pretty strong wall. While this was do-
ing, the lama laid down through weariness, and the
little ones were sucking quite unconcerned, and
feasting themselves at their ease. .
What a pleasing sight was this to Robinson ! He
then put the lama and her young ones into their
10 new stable, and closed up the last opening with
branches firmly interwoven.
What was his satisfaction now! Besides the com-
pany of the lamas, which of itself was a valuable
thing, he promised himself many other great ad-
vantages, and with much reason.
There wanted still one thing to complete his hap.
piness: he wished to be in the same enclosure with
his dear lamas, that he might have them always be-
fore his eyes, and, therefore, determined to break
down one side of his wall of trees, and to make
another that would take in a larger space.
This work was finished in a few days, and then
Robinson had the satisfaction of being in the same
habitation with his three domestic companions.
This, however, did not make him forget his first
companion, the spider, which he provided every
day with gnats and flies.
The lama, also, and its young ones, soon grew

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE
,
fond of his society. As often as he returned home,
they came jumping to meet him; they would smell
about him, and gratefully lick his hand whenever he
gave them any thing to eat.
After this he weaned the young ones, and then
began to milk the dam regularly morning and eve-
ning:
As his cocoa-nut tree was useful to him in many
respects, he was extremely desirous to find a me-
thod of producing more of them. But how was he
to contrive it? He had often heard of grafting
trees, but the manner in which it was done had ne-
yer excited his curiosity. « Oh," said he to him-
self “ how little is the advantage that I have reap-
ed from the years of my childhood ! Ah! if I had
known my own interest better, should I not have
taken notice of every thing that I saw or heard ?"
But of what use were these wishes ? It was,
therefore, his business to exert himself in supply-
ing, by his own invention, what he wanted in skill:
and this, in effect, was the course that he took.
He cut off the tops of two or three young trees;
in the middle of the trunk he made a small slit, in
which he stuck a young twig from the cocoa-nut
tree; he then covered round with thin bark the
place where he had made the slit, and waited with
impatience for the result of his labour. After some
time the suckers began to bud, and now he had
found a method to produce a whole grove of cocoa-
mut trees, which was a fresh cause for rejoicing.
The old lama and the young ones were also in a
short time grown as tame as dogs. He began, there.
fore, as occasion required, to make them serve for
carrying burthens.
Rich. Ay; but how could he take them with him
when there was no way for them to go out of the
enclosure.
Mr. Bill. I forgot to tell you, that, in the new


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
wall, at a part where it touched a close thicket, he
had left an opening where a lama could barely
squeeze itself out. This hole was not to be seen
from without, and every evening Robinson closed
it up with branches strongly interwoven toge.
ther.
It was delightful to see Robinson coming home to
his habitation and his lama walking before him.
Then was the joy of the young lamas complete ;
they expressed their satisfaction by jumping and
bleating, and would run first to their mother to
welcome her home, then to their master to caress
him also,
Mr. Rose. It must be confessed, there is some-
thing very instructive and affecting in this gratitude
of animals towards a man who has done them a
kindness.
Mr. Bill. There are several examples of it which
are extremely striking.
Henry. Ay; for instance, the lion and the man
mentioned in SANDFORD and MERTON-what was
the man's name?
Rich. Androcles.
Henry. The same. He had plucked a thorn
out of the lion's paw.
Geo. There was a good lion ! He was so fond of
Androcles, who had done him that service; and
ever after, in return, he did the man no harm when
he had it in his power to devour him.
Rich. For my part, I like much better the dog
that belonged to a Swiss.
Harriet. What dog?
Rich. Have you forgot him? The dog that saved
the lives of two men.
Harriet. Dear Richard, tell us that story.
Rich. There was once a man in Switzerland,
where those high mountains the Alps are. Well,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
65
the man climbed up to the top of one of them,
which was prodigious high.
Geo. You leave out one thing, brother; he took
a guide with him.
Rich. Certainly, he took a guide--well, and the
guide took his dog. Now, when they had reached
the top of the mountain
Geo. Yes, and the mountain was covered with
snow-
Rich. Now, when they were almost at the top, the
gentleman slipped, and the guide going to his as-
sistance slipped too, and so then they both slipped
and slid until they were within a few yards of the
edge of the precipice, from which they would have
tallen down almost a mile before they touched the
bottom. But then the good dog seized his master
by the skirt of his coat, and held him fast, so that
he could not slip any farther, and he held the gentle-
man until they both got up.
Geo. Well, now you must tell us what the gentle.
man said.
Rich. He invited the guide to come and see him
as often as he pleased at his house, and charged him
never to forget bringing his dog, as he intended,
whenever he came, to give him a good belly-full,
Harriet. And did the gentleman do so?
Rich. Yes, certainly.
Harriet. That was well done.
Mr. Bill. Well, my dear children, we have lost
sight of Robinson. Shall we stop here for this
evening?
Geo. Oh, dear papa, no.
Mr. Bill. By this time his bricks were hard
enough to be used. He looked, therefore, for some
chałky earth, with which, instead of lime, he intend-
ed to make mortar for his wall. bota
Having finished all the preparatives requisite for

66
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
his masonry, he made his lama bring home the
bricks that he had occasion for.
Rich. But how was he able to put the bricks upon
the lama?
Mr. Bill. Why, he had long observed that it
would be a very great advantage to him to know
something of the useful art of weaving wicker pan-
niers ; and having once succeeded in making an
umbrella by this sort of weaving, he frequently after-
wards amused himself in his leisure hours with
trials of the same kind, till he was able to make a
pretty tight pannier. Two of these he had woven
on purpose for his lama to carry. He fastened
them together with a string, and laid them upon the
lama in such a manner that they hung down one on
each side.
Robinson then fell to his bricklaying. He had
now built up one of the walls of his kitchen, and
laid the foundation of the other, when there hap-
pened something which he had never dreamt of.
Rich. I wonder what that accident was.
Harriet. Oh! I know it. The sayages came and
ate him up.
Geo. Mercy on us! was it that, papa ?
Mr. Bill. No, it was not that; but it was some-
thing that frightened him almost as much as if the
sayages were come to roast him alive.
Rich. Dear me! what was it?
Mr. Bill. It was night, and Robinson, fatigued
with the toils of the day, was fallen into a sweet
slumber, and dreaming, as usual, of his dear parents,
when suddenly- But let us not close this eve-
ning's entertainment with an event so full of terror;
rather let us turn our thoughts to something more
agreeable, that we may end the day in joy and gra-
titude to our good Father who is in heaven.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
67
NINTH EVENING.
MR. BILLINGSLEY having brought the history
of the New ROBINSON CRUSOE down to the end of
the preceding evening, it happened that business
for several evenings successively prevented him
from resuming the story.
The conjectures of the young family were endless.
One guessed this thing, another that.
"But why should we not know the whole ?” said
some of them, in a very piteous tone.
"I have my reasons," answered their father.
The children, therefore, pressed no farther, but
waited with impatience for the moment when the
cause of their father's silence should no longer exist.
Mean time, Mr. Billingsley could clearly perceive
what passed in their minds. “Why does our papa
refuse us this satisfaction? What reasons can he have
for not gratifying our curiosity?" He thought pro-
per, therefore, upon this occasion, to tell them that
he had reasons of importance for not continuing the
story.
“ Prepare yourselves," said he, " to set off to-
morrow morning down the river for Greenwich.
« Down the river? To Greenwich? --In a boat?
What I, papa ? --Shall I go? And I?” asked all
the children with one voice; and a general “ Yes"
having satisfied all their questions, they ran to com-
municate the news to their mamma.
Every thing, therefore, was prepared for the next
day's party.
At length the morning appeared. Nothing was
heard but knocking at each other's bed rooms; so
that they were all very soon obliged to rise and
dress themselves.

68
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
When the whole party, old and young, were as.
sembled, and the former were almost devoured with
caresses by the latter; Mr. Billingsley rubbed his
eyes, and in a tone of voice which breathed most
sorrowful discord to the accents of universal joy, he
said, “ My dear children, if you would do me a
favour, you would excuse me to day from perform-
ing my promise.”
“ What promise ? what promise?”
Mr. Bill. The promise that I made you of going
to Greenwich to-day.
Not one could utter a syllable.
Mr. Bill. I have been thinking last night that we
shall do wrong to go on this party to-day.
The Children. Why so, papa ? ----and they could
hardly speak for sobs.
Mr. Bill. In the first place, we have had an east-
erly wind, which makes the river extremely rough,
and must be very disagreeable to a party that are
going down.
But I have still a stronger reason. You know
Charles and Arthur Stanfield, your first cousins,
are to come out of Cheshire shortly, and spend a
month with us; would it not be infinitely better to
wait for their coming, and take them with us?
Would they not sigh and wish that they had been
theretoo? And, in that case, would the remembrance
of our day's pleasure cause us much satisfaction ?
A profound silence.
Mr. Billingsley goes on. You know, I never broke
my word with you ; so that if you insist upon it, we
shall set off. But if you would, of your own ac-
cord, quit me of my promise, you would do me a
kindness. Therefore speak---What is to be done.
“ We will wait" was the answer; and, conse
quently, the fine party of pleasure was put off till
another time.
It was easy to be seen that this victory over them-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE,
69
ear
selves had cost some of them dear. Mr. Billings-
ley took occasion, therefore, when they were all
assembled, to speak to them in this manner:
“My dear children, what has happened to you to-
day, will happen to you frequently in the course of
your lives.
“The reason which your Heavenly Father will
have to act thus with you, will seldom appear to
you so clearly and distinctly as you have heard my
reasons this morning for putting off our party to
Greenwich ; for God, being infinitely wise, looks
to the most remote futurity; and often, for our ad-
vantage, suffers things to happen, the good effects
of which we do not experience until long after,
perhaps even in another world.
“Now, if every thing were to happen perfectly
to your wish while you are young, and if you always
obtained, at the exact moment, whatever was the
object of your hopes, oh! my dears, how much the
worse would it be for you during the remainder of
your lives!
“In this case, then, what are we to do, my dear
children ?--Accustom yourselves, while you are
young, to deprive yourselyes frequently of a plea-
sure which you would have given the world to enjoy.
“What I have said, will teach you, my dear
children, to interpret many instances of our beha-
viour, which to you appear unaccountable, and which
we, who are advanced in years, commonly adopt
with regard to you. You have, no doubt, often been
surprised at our refusing you a gratification for
which, perhaps, you longed ardently. And why did
we do so? Often merely on purpose to exercise
your patience and moderation, virtues so necessary
to all men, and to prepare you for the subsequent
accidents of your lives.
* You know now, also, why, for these few days

70
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
-
past, I have forborne the recital of Robinson Crusoc's
history.".
Harriet. Because, papa, you had a mind to teach
us patience.
Mr. Bill. Very right!
A few days more passed without any talk of going
on with the story of Robinson Crusoe; but at length,
the hour so earnestly longed for arrived; Mr. Bil-
lingsley went on, therefore, without interruption, in
these words:
It was night, as I told you at my leaving off, and
Robinson was quietly stretched on his bed of dry
grass, according to his custom, dreaming of his pa-
rents, when, all at once, a rumbling noise was heard,
together with dreadful cracks. Robinson jumped
out of bed without knowing where he was going.
At this moment happened a dreadful shock of the
earth, which was succeeded by several others. The
rumbling noise also continued, which seemed to
come from under ground.
Robinson ran out of his cave into the space before
it, and the affrighted lamas followed. Scarce were
they out, when a piece of the rock fell down upon
the bed which Robinson had just left. Fear, now,
lent him wings.
His first intention was to secure himself upon a
neighbouring mountain. He was going to run
thither, when he beheld that very same spot of the
mountain open and vomit forth smoke, fire and a
burning stream of what is called lava.
He ran towards the sea-side ; but here he beheld
a new scene no less terrible. A dreadful whirlwind
had driven together a large quantity of clouds, and
heaped them, as it were, one upon the other. Their
own weight burst thein at length, and the conse-
quence was such a deluge of rain as laid the whole
country under water.
Robinson sayed himself by climbing up a tree;


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
but his poor lamas were carried off by the violence
of the flood. How willingly would he have en-
deavoured to save them, but that the rapidity of the
torrent had already carried them far beyond his
reach!
The earth still continued to shake for a few mi-
nutes, after which there fell, all at once, a dead calm.
Charlotte. What occasions these earthquakes,
рара ? -
Mr. Bill. Tell her, Richard.
Rich. There are a number of great holes under
the-earth, like caverns, and these are filled with air
and exhalations. Besides, there are within the
earth all manner of things that easily take fire, as
sulphur, pitch, nitre, and the like. These begin
sometimes to heat and take fire, when moisture had-
pens to accompany them.
Mr. Bill. I have somewhere read that a man
might make a little mountain for himself that would
vomit fire. If you should like that, we will make
the experiment some day.
The Children. Oh, yes, by all means, dear papa.
Rich. And how is that done?
Mr. Bill. You need only dig a hole in the ground
where it is moist, and put into it some sulphur and
filings of iron. This mixture will heat and take
fire of itself, and then you have a burning mountain
in miniature. We will make a trial of it the first
idle day.
Robinson's situation was, indeed, now, to the full
as miserable as ever it had been. His cave ras a
heap of ruins; his dear and faithful lamas he had
seen carried off by the flood; all his past labours
were demolished, and his plans for the future dis-
appointed! The mountain, it is true, had ceased to
throw up fire, but it was very possible that this
mountain might now continue to be always a vol-
cano.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Overpowered with melancholy ideas, he sunk
under the weight of his miseries, and, instead of
turning himself towards God, he thought of nothing
but his future misery, which appeared to him in-
finite both in weight and duration.
Exhausted with anguish and discomfort, he leaned
against the tree, and uttered sighs, or rather deep
groans, of distress.
Geo. (to Mr. Meredith) I see now that my papa
was right.
Mr. Mered. In what?
Geo. That our Heavenly Father knew every thing
best, and that it was not for us to judge in certain
cases.
Edw. So I think too. I must own, I am far
from liking Robinson now so well as I did some
time ago.
Mr. Bill. Your observation, my dear children, is
perfectly just. It is true, we see plainly that Ro-
binson has not that firm confidence in his maker
which he naturally ought to have; but, before we
condemn him, let us first put ourselves in his
place for a moment, and ask our own hearts if we
should have acted better under the same circum-
stances.
At length the day appeared, and its new-born light,
while it spread joy over all nature, found poor
Robinson still leaning against the tree, in a situa-
tion truly deplorable. At last he set himself in mo-
tion, and arrived at the ruins of his habitation. But
what joyful emotion seized his breast, when his
dear lamas, safe and sound, came jumping to meet
him!
At first he could not believe his eyes, but his
doubts were soon satisfied. The lamas ran up to
him, licked his hands, and expressed their joy at
seeing him again by bleating and skipping about.
Robinson's heart was now awakened. He looked

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE:
V was
at his lamas, then up to Heaven; and tears of re.
pentance for his want of faith bedewed his cheeks.
He now patted and caressed his old friends a thou-
sand times, and went to see what was become of his
dweiling place.
Henry. But how was the lamas saved ?
Mr. Bill. We may suppose that the flood had car-
ried them to some rising ground where the waters
were not quite so deep.
Robinson then stood in the front of his cave, and
found the damage here also by no means so consi-
derable as he had imagined it. The ceiling had, it
is true, tumbled down, and brought some of the
earth along with it; yet, after all, it appeared not
impossible to clear the cave of these ruins; for
when he had more closely examined the spot where
the piece of rock had been suspended, he perceived
it to be surrounded on every side by soft earth, and,
therefore, likely enough to fall down by its own
weight sooner or later. The all wise and good
Creator had so formed the earth, that exactly at
that time, and in that island, there should be such
an earthquake. Even the rumbling noise under
ground, and the roaring of the hurricane, were
circumstances that contributed to save him : for, had
the earthquake come on without any noise, Robin-
son, in all likelihood, would not have awakened,
and then the fall of the rock would certainly have
put an end to his life.
Thus, my children, heaven took care of him at
'a time when he thought himself forsaken, and even
made these dreadful accidents, which Robinson
looked upon as his greatest misfortune, contribute
wholly to his preservation,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE,
TENTH EVENING.
MR. BILLINGSLEY goes on.-Robinson, who
for some time past had used the custom of joining
prayer with his labour, began by throwing himself
on his knees to thank God for his late deliverance;
after which he began to clear his cave of the ruins.
He tried to roll out the smallest of the two pie-
ces, but in vain: the task was too much for his
strength.
Rich. I would have made a lever or a crow, such
as the men had the other day when they rolled a
great beam into the barn-yard.
Geo. What is a lever, or a crow, as you call it?
Mr. Bill. I will explain that to you at another
time : at present listen and hear what Robinson
elid.
After having meditated upon the matter a long
time to no purpose, the idea of the lever struck
him too at last.
This succeeded. In half an hour he rolled the
two pieces of stone clean out of the cave, and then
he had the satisfaction of seeing his dwelling twice
as spacious as before, and, what was of infinitely
more consequence, quite secure.
Edw. But, papa, what was become of his spider
Mr. Bill. I am glad you put me in mind of it,
Poor spider! I had almost forgot it. According to
all appearance, it was buried under the ruins of
the ceiling; at least Robinson never saw it again.
He now ventured to turn his steps towards the
volcano, and was astonished at the quantity of melt-
ed matter that had run from it on all sides.
Having remarked that the principal stream of lava
had taken its course towards the spot where his


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
potatoes grew, he was much terrified at the idea
that this torrent of fire might, perhaps, have laid
waste the whole place. He went, therefore, to the
spot, and found, to his great joy, the whole planta-
tion safe. From that moment he resolved to plant
potatoes in many different parts of his island for
fear of accidents.
Having put this design into execution, he began
again to work upon his kitchen. Here also the
terrible convulsion of nature was the means of pro-
curing him a great advantage ; for the burning
mountain had thrown up a considerable quantity of
lime stones. These are commonly burnt in a kiln ;
but here the burning mountain had already been as
good as a limekiln to them.
Robinson, therefore, had only to gather a small
heap of these stones, to throw water upon them,
and then to stir the heap well about. He then
mixed with it a little sand, and fell to work imme-
diately,
In the mean time Robinson ventured to approach
the gulf. He found the sides and the bottom co-
vered with cold lava; and had reason to hope that
the subterraneous fire was extinguished.
This hope having given him fresh strength and spi-
rits, he turned his thoughts towards laying in a store
of provisions against the winter. With this intent he
caught eight lamas. These he killed, except one
ram, which he kept alive to be company for his
three tame lamas, and he hung up the greatest
part of the flesh in his kitchen to smoke.
Here was a pretty good stock of provisions; yet
still he dreaded lest he should fall short if the win-
ter was severe and lasted long. For this reason
he would have taken more lamas, but he found this
method would no longer answer; for the creatures
were on their guard : so that he was obliged to in
vent some new way of taking them. This he soon

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
found. The lamas, in their fight from their drinking
place, always jumped clean over a hedge, and
landed at the bottom of a hill; and this circum-
stance determined him to dig a deep hole on this spot
that they might fall into it and be taken. His inde.
fatigable labour finished in a day and a half this new
work of his invention. The pit he covered over
with green branches, and the next day two lamas
were taken in it."
He now thought himself sufficiently provided
with meat ; but there yet remained three things
more, which done, he was to count himself fully
guarded and provided against the expected approach
of winter : hay was to be made for his lamas; a stock
of wood laid up for firing; and all his potatoes
lodged in the cellar.
Hay he had collected in a pretty large quantity,
and stacked it up in his court yard; but here expe,
rience taught him a little more of hay making,
though at the expense of some labour and trouble.
He had not taken care to dry the hay perfectly.
Whenever this happens it frequently takes fire.
This was a matter that Robinson had never heard
of; for he had never troubled his head about farm-
ing business; but in his present situation he learn
ed how useful it is to remark every thing, and to
collect as much information as possible.
His surprise was great, indeed, when he saw his
haycock begin to smoke.
He took it down as fast as possible; but was sur-
prised to find no fire, and to see that the hay was
every where extremely hot and moist. He was.
therefore, at last convinced, (as was really the
case, that the moisture alone caused the hay to
heat.
Rich. I must own I find it hard to imagine how
wetness alone can make any thing heat.
Air. Bill. My dear Richard, there are a thou-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
79
sand such effects as this in nature; and human rea-
son, which hath been reflecting on them for many
ages, hath clearly discovered the true causes of
many of them. These useful discoveries are com-
Prised in a science which is called Natural Philoso-
phy.
Robinson then dried his hav afresh, and made it
up into a fresh haycock. To render it still more
secure, he toned it with a covering of reeds.
For some days he employed himself in gathering
dry wood. After this, he dug up his potatoes, and
found them a very considerable stock. Lastly, he
shook the lemon tree, and brought home as much
of the fruit as were ripe; and he now was freed
from all apprehensions of want during the bad
weather.
But though it was almost the end of October,
the cold was not to be felt in the least. Instead of
that it rained so incessantly that the air seemed to
be changed into water. For a fortnight together,
he never put his foot outside of his cave, unless to
go to fetch victuals and water.
How heavily the hours crept on! Nothing to do,
and all alone! If any body could have given him a
book, or pen, ink, and paper, he would have gi-
ven one day of his life for every sheet of paper.
“Oh!” said he "how silly was I in my younger
days to look upon reading and writing as tiresome,
and idleness as agreeable! The most tedious book
in the world would now be a treasure to me."
During this wearisome time, necessity forced him
to have recourse to all sorts of employments. He
had been meditating a long time whether it would
not be possible for him to make some earthen pots
and a lamp. He ran, therefore, to look for potter's
earth, and immediately began to work. He spent
a few days in this manner, his work affording him

80 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
amusement rather than trouble, until, at length, his
pots and lamp were finished completely.
The rain continued, in the mean time, without
interruption. Robinson, therefore, saw himself un-
der the necessity of inventing other domestic la-
bours. His first task was to make a fishing-net.
He had laid in, beforehand, a pretty good stock
of packthread, which came now very seasonably
into use; and he contrived to make a net, which,
for goodness and real service, was little inferior to
our common fishing-nets.
It next came into his head to try whether he
could not make a bow and arrows. With a bow
and arrows he could kill lamas, he could shoot
birds, and what was by far more important with
these he could defend himself in his dwelling-place;
if ever the savages came to attack him. He was
all impatience to see the bow finished, and ran,
notwithstanding the rain and the ward, to look for
the proper wood.
Haying therefore cut a piece of wood which he
found happily proper for the purpose, he carried it
home, and began immediately to work upon it. But,
alas ! how did he then feel the want of a proper
knife! He was obliged to cut twenty times to bring
off as much wood as we could cut at once with a
knife of steel : he had, however, the inexpressible
joy of seeing his bow finished on the ninth day;
and now he wanted nothing but a string and arrows.
If he had thought of it when he killed the lamas,
he would have tried, perhaps, to make strings of
their guts ; for he knew that in Europe it is com-
mon to make them out of sheep's guts. For want,
therefore, of catgut, he twisted a string of pack.
thread, and made it as strong as possible. After
this he proceeded to make his arrows.
What would he have given for a small piece of
iron to point his arrows with!
how did in immediately purpose, he carriba he

THE NEW N
ROBIN
ROBINSON CRUSOE.
By thinking on the subject, he, at length, re-
membered that the savages of some nations make
use of fish-bones and sharp stones to point their
lances and arrows.
He ran immediately to the sea-side, and was
lucky enough to find some fish bones and sharp
fiints, exactly such as he wanted. After this, he
cut a long, straight staff for a spear.
In a few days the spears and the arrows were
finished.
He then tried how his bow would shoot: though
it wanted a number of things, he found it, howe.
ver, tolerably handy for shooting birds, or other
small animals. He did not even doubt but he
should be able, with this bow, to wound a naked
sayage, provided the savage would let him come
near enough.
His earthen pots and his lamp were now suffi-
ciently dry. In the first place, he put into one of
his new pipkins a lump of fat. This fat he intend-
ed to use as oil for his lamp. But he had the mor-
tification to perceive that it soaked through the
pipkin, drop, by drop, so that very little remained
in the pipkin.
What a disagreeable accident! He had made
himself so happy in thinking that he should soon
spend the evenings pleasantly by the light of a
lamp; but now all these hopes seemed to vanish.
He sat down therefore in his studying corner,
(for so he called one of the corners of his cave,
and there he rubbed his forehead. “Whence
comes it,” said he to himself, “that the pots in
Europe do not soak through? - Why, because they
are glazed-Hum! Glazed ? Now how is it done?
--*Aha! I think I know now! Have I not read
somewhere, that sand and several other substances
might be turned into glass by a strong fire ?"
He then kindled a good fire, and put one of the

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
pipkins into the very middle of it. However it was
not long there before it split in pieces.
He sat down again in his studying corner. “Have
I ever met with any thing similar to this before?-
Eh! certainly I haye. In winter-time, when we
have put a tumbler full of cold water on a warm
stove, did not the glass break immediately? --Has
it ever happened that the glass did not break?
Yes, when it was put on the stove before it was
quite hot, or when we put a piece of paper under
it.
This method succeeded rather better. The pip-
kin did not split; but then, it was not glazed !
“How comes this?” said Robinson; " I thought
the fire was hot enough.” After meditating upon
the matter, he thought he had hit upon the reason.
He had made the experiment with a fire which was
not closed up in a stove or oven, but burned in the
upon air. This fire lost its force too soon, and
was too much spread on every side to heat the
earthen ware sufficiently for glazing it. Robinson,
therefore, determined to construct a proper oven like
those in the potteries; but for this it was requisite
that the weather should be more favourable.
For it rained still incessantly; and when it was
absolutely past, Robinson thought that the winter
was going to set in. He could scarce believe his
eyes, when he saw the trees budding, and fresh
flowers beginning every where to blow. The thing
was beyond his comprehension. “This will be a
warning to me,” said he, “never, for the future, to
deny any thing hastily that I do not understand."
Mrs. Bill. Did not he go to bed when he said so?
Mr. Bill. I am not positive whether he did or
not. However, as I find nothing else remarkable
in this day's occurrences, I presume he did go to
bed. And we will do the same, that, like him, wc
may rise to-morrow with the sun.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ELEVENTH EVENING.
GEORGE, Papa, I should like to be in Robin-
son's place now.
Mr. Bill. Would you really?
Geo. Yes; for now he has every thing that he
wants, and lives in a fine country, where there is
never any winter.
Mr. Bill. Robinson knew very well the value
of all these good things, and thanked God for
them; nevertheless, he would have given the half
of his remaining life for the arrival of a ship
that would carry him to his own country.
Geo. Ay! why what did he want still.
Mr. Bill. Many things; an infinite deal of things,
not to say every thing. He wanted those blessings
without which there can be no true happiness be-
low, as society, friends, beings of his own species,
whom he might love, and by whom he might be, in
his turn, beloved.
Besides Robinson was far from having his many
other wants gratified. His clothes were falling by
degrees all to'rags; nor did he know how he was
to have new ones.
Rich. Oh! as to clothes, he might very well do
without them in an island where there was no win-
ter.
Harriet. Oh fie ! Would you have him go naked?
Mr. Bill. It is true, he had no occasion for clothes
to protect him from the cold ; but he had much
Occasion for them to guard his body from the in-
sects with which this island swarmed, particularly
moschetoes.
Edw. What are these creatures, these mosche
toes?


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSO E.
85
Mr. Bill. A sort of fies, whose sting is much
more painful than that of ours. For they produce
as painful swellings as those of bees or wasps do
with us.
- This, together with his longing desire to be-
hold his parents, once more drew many a sigh
from him, when, looking over the boundless ocean,
he could distinguish nothing but the sea and
sky. How did his heart flutter with hope, when he
perceived a small cloud, which his imagination re-
presented to him as a ship in full sail ! And when
he discovered his mistake, how the tears would
trickle from his eyes, as he returned home to his
habitation !
Harriet. He should have prayed for the coming
of a ship ; perhaps his prayers might have been
heard.
Mr. Bill. He did so, my dear Harriet.
Lest a vessel should happen any day to pass near
the island at a time when he was not near the sea.
shore, he resolved to fix a signal by which all who
should come in sight might be informed of his dis-
tress. This signal was a pole, on the top of which
he fastened a banner.
Edw. Ay! Where did he get the banner?
Mr. Bill. His shirt was in such a state that it
was impossible to wear it longer. He took, there-
fore, the largest slip of it, and fixed it on the pole
that he was to stick up.
He would have been very glad to put up also, on
his pole, an inscription. The question then was
in what language the inscription should be. Lucki-
ly he recollected some Latin words, by which he
could express what he wished.
Geo. But would seamen understand that?
Mr. Bill. The Latin language, you know, is com-
mon in all countries of Europe, and most men who
have received any education, know something of it.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Hence Robinson hoped, that, in whatever ship pass-
ed that way, there might be one or two who would
understand his inscription,
Rich. What was it, then ?
Mr. Bill. Ferte opem misero Robinson ! Do you
understand George?
Geo. Yes, papa. Help the unfortunate Robinson :
Mr. Bill. His greatest inconvenience now was
the want of shoes and stockings.
How often did he sit down to think of some way
to cover himself! but to no purpose. He had nej.
ther instruments nor skill to provide himself with
what he wanted.
The skins of the lamas appeared the readiest
means whereby he might clothe himself; but these
were still raw and stiff, and unfortunately he had
never troubled himself concerning the manner in
which tanners prepared the raw hides.
Nevertheless, necessity was pressing. Something
must be done, to hinder him from perishing in the
most miserable manner. I
Robinson took the skins, and cut out of them first
a pair of shoes, and then a pair of stockings.
Of another piece of skin, which was very stiff, he
inade a mask, cutting in it two small holes for the
eyes, and another for the mouth, that he might be
able to breathe.
And, since he had begun this work, be resolved
sot to quit it until he had finished with making him
self a jacket and trowsers of lama's skin.
The jacket was composed of three pieces. Two
of these pieces served for the arms, and the third
for the body. The trowsers consisted of two pieces,
and they were laced at the sides. When the jacket
and trousers were finished, he put them both on,
with the resolution never to dress himself again in
his old European clothes, except upon the birth-days
ost

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
of his father and mother, which he celebrated as
solemn festivals. Tout
His dress was then the most singular that can be
amagined: from head to foot covered in skins;
instead of a sword, a large hatchet of stone by his
side ; on his back a pouch, with a bow and quiver
of arrows; in his right hand a spear, and in his
left a wicker umbrellas covered with leaves of the
cocoa-nut tree ; lastly, upon his head, instead of a
hat, a cap of wicker-work.
He now resumed his potter's work. The oven
was soon finished, and then he had a mind to try
whether he could not produce a glazing on his pots.
He put, therefore, his pipkins into it, after which
he made up so great a fire, that the oven was red
liot. This fire he kept up until evening, being very
curious to know the result of his labour. Put what,
think ye, was the result of it? The first pot that
he took out was not glazed, ner, in short, any of
them. But, at last, in examining one of the pip.
kins, he perecived, that this, and this alone, was
covered at bottom with a real glazing.
Ja This was to him a riddle which he could by no
means solve." What reason could there be," said
he, " why this single pipkin is a little glazed, and
not one of the other vessels, though they were all
made of the same earth, and baked in one and the
same oven ?" He thought and thought again ; at
length, he recollected that there had been a little
salt in this pipkin when he put it into the oven.
Rich. Was it the salt, papa, that produced this
effect.
Mr. Bill. Yes: what Robinson now discovered
by chance has been long known in Europe; salt is
the true cause why many things turn to glass in the
fire: so that he only need have rubbed the earthen
ware with salt water, or barely have thrown a little

88
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
salt in the oven when heated, and immediately all
his pots would have been properly glazed.
This, therefore, he resolved to try the next day;
and some of his vessels he rubbed with salt water,
and put dry salt in others, on purpose to make the
two experiments at the same time, when, in the
midst of his work, he was taken ill.
He felt pains in his breast and head, and
a great weariness all over his limbs, and was
threatered with the most terrible situation that
a man can possibly experience.
“Good Heaven!" said he to himself; “ what will
become of me if I cannot rise out of bed! if there
is no compassionate being to take care of me, and
come to my assistance in my illness! no friend to
wipe off the sweat of death from my forehead, or
offer me any refreshment!"
Sinking under the weight of his distress, he fell
to the ground, quite exhausted.
In this situation he remained in an agony of dis-
tress ; his hands were clasped strongly together;
and, unable to think, he looked stedfastly up to.
wards heaven. “Oh, Lord ! Mercy !” was all that
he could utter, fetching at the same time most heavy
sighs and groans.
He mustered up what strength he had still re-
maining, in order, if possible, to place near his bed.
whatever he should most want for refreshment.
He was barely able to carry a couple of cocoa-nut
shells full of water, and place them beside his bed.
Ile next laid some roasted potatoes there, and four
lemons which he had still remaining, and then he
fell down with weariness on his miscrable bed.
If it had pleased his Maker to take him out of the
world, how contentedly would he have yielded up
his life! He even prayed that it might be so ; but
very soon he reflected that this prayer was not rea-
sonable. "Am I not the work of God's hands? Is

TIE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
89
me not my tender, wise, and Almighty Father? How
have I, then, the boldness to prescribe to him what
he should do with me? Doth he not know best
what is good for me, and will he not act so as to
allot me that which is good ?”
After these words, raising himself upon his knees,
he prayed with all the earnestness possible, saying,
* I resign myself to thee, O my Heavenly Father.
I will bear contentedly whatsoever thou allottest
me; only grant me strength to bear-it is all that
I ask of thee!"
At the same time he was attacked with a violent
ague. This cold fit lasted full two hours, and was
succeeded by a hot fit, which was like a burning
fire through all his veins. He had scarce strength
enough to lift the cocoa-nut shell, with the water
in it, to his mouth, that he might cool his burning
tongue.
It was the worst night that ever he passed in
his life. He had a violent and continual pain in his
head, and could not close his eyes the whole night.
All this weakened him so much, that in the morning
he was scarcely able to crawl towards the heap of
wood to replenish his fire.
Towards evening his illness increased afresh; he
tried again to go as far as the hearth, but for this
time he found himself unable. He was obli-
ged, therefore, to give up all thoughts of keeping in
his fire ; and he now expected death to approach in
a short time,
* This night was as restless as the last. In the
mean time the fire went out; the remainder of the
water that was in the cocoa-nut shells began to
spoil, and Robinson was no longer able to turn him-
Belf in his bed.
He again humbly asked forgiveness of God for his
sins, and particularly thanked him for the afflictions
which had been sent him for his amendment. Last-
8*

90
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ly, he prayed for the happiness of his parents ;
after which, he recommended his immortal soul to
the mercy of his God. He then waited for death
with joyful hope.
And, indeed, death seemed to advance fast : he
suddenly stopped breathing, felt a convulsive shud-
dering, sunk down on his bed, and was deprived of
sense and motion.
All the young company remained silent for a pret-
ty long time, showing by their sorrow the respect
that they bore to the memory of their friend whom
they had never seen--and separated for that evening
rather more quietly and with more appearance of
thoughtfulness than usual.
TWELFTH EVENING.
CHARLOTTE. Well, papa, what will you read
us this evening?
Mr. Bill. What say ye? Shall I go on with the
adventures of Robinson Crusoe?
Charlotte. How! why Robinson is dead.
Rich. Do not be in a hurry, Charlotte. He may
have recovered. Don't you remember that we
thought him dead once before? And yet he was
alive.
Mr. Bill. We left Robinson, after his convulsive
shuddering, more dead than alive : nevertheless, he
came to himself again, and recovered his senses
and faculties.
The Children. Ah! that is right-we are all of us
glad that he is not dead.
Mr. Bill. The first token of his breathing again
was a deep sigh. He opens his eyes, and looks

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
9.1
round him, then falls into a fit of melancholy, and
would have preferred death to life.
He feels himself very weak. The burning heat
is now succeeded by a sweat all over his body.
He was now seized with a violent thirst. The
water that remained was no longer drinkable : lucki-
ly, he thought of his lemons: he put one of them
to his mouth, and found himself greatly refreshed,
For two days past he had taken no notice of his
lamas; they now afforded a moving sight: some of
them looked at him, and seemed to ask if he were
recovered yet. Fortunately these animals, as well
as camels, can do without drinking for several days,
otherwise they would have been very badly off, for
Robinson being yet too weak to fetch them water,
they were likely to be deprived of it still for some
time.
The oldest of the lamas having come up close to
him, he exerted the little strength that he had in
milking her, that she might not go dry. Her milk,
no doubt, assisted Robinson's recovery; for, after
drinking it, he found himself considerably better.
After this, he fell asleep again, enjoyed a most
refreshing slumber, and did not awake until sunset.
This calm sleep contributed so effectually to the
recovery of his strength, that the very next morn-
ing he was able to rise, though he still staggered
with weakness.
He crawled out of his cave into the space before
it. Some beams of the rising sun shone agreeably
on his face, and reanimated him with their pleasing
warmth. He thought he felt new life. "Eternal
source of being !" cried he, “God of my life! what
thanks shall I render thee for giving me to behold,
once more, the wondrous works of thy almighty
hands!”
From these effusions of gratitude towards his
Creator, he naturally passed to the admiration of

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
the creatures. His looks wandered, sometimes.
over the immensity of heaven's azure vault; some-
times over the fresh and smiling verdure of the
trees and shrubs, besprinkled with pearly dew;
sometimes on his lamas, which, by crowding round
him, seemed to caress him and express their joy.
He went at last to examine his new made earthen
ware. As soon as he opened the oven, what an
agreeable surprise! All his vessels were as well
glazed, as if they had been the work of als expe.
rienced potter. In the height of his joy he forgets
that his fire is out. When, at length, recollectina
this circumstance, he stood motionless for a while
fixing his eyes, sometimes on his pots, sometimes
on his fire-place, and ending with heaving a deep
Nevertheless, he was able this time to moderate
his vexation. “The same good Providence," said
he to himself, “which before provided you with fire,
has always more than one way at hand to provide
you with it again.” Besides, though he was accus.
tomed to live chiefly on meat, yet he hoped to bo
able, and not inconveniently, to do without it, and
live upon fruits and milk.
Charlotte. Why, he might have used his smoked
meat for victuals.
Mr. Bill. That is true ; but how was he to have
smoked meat ?
Charlotte. Oh! I forgot that.
Mr. Bill. After all, he was not sorry that he had
made the pots and pans: they were convenient to
frold his milk, and the largest he intended for a very
particular use.
Rich. What was that?
Mr. Bill. He thought, if his potatoes were accom-
panied with butter, he should relish them better than
without.
Rich. I suppose só.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
93
Mr. Bill. Not being able to make a churn of wood,
he had a mind to try whether he could not churn
butter in a large earthen pot. He gathered, there-
fore, as much cream as he thought would be suffi-
cient. He shaped out also a round flat piece of
wood, in the centre of which he made a hole to
receive a stick. This instrument he held upright
in the cream pot, and inoved it with an incessant mo-
tion up and down, up and down, until the butter
was, at length, separated from the butter-milk.
He was now, once more happy in the accomplish-
ment of his design; but recollected that he must
think no more of potatoes, for want of fire to roast
them. Disappointed in his hopes, he finds himself
in danger of wanting every thing. It is true, the
oysters, the milk, the cocoa-nuts, and flesh, either
Paw or dricd in the sun, might afford him nourish-
ment; but was it certain that no accident would
deprive him of these resources ?
What shall he undertake now? He has now be-
come so accustomed to work, that he could not live
without employing his time in some useful occupa-
tion. In the latter part of his life, he would often
say, his reformation was principally owing to this
single circumstance, that he was constrained, when
in solitude, to provide for his wants himself by per-
severing labour; and he would add, “ Constant
employment is the mother of a crowd of virtues,
as habitual idleness is the source of all vice."
Rich. He was very right; when one has nothing
to do, one thinks of nothing but follies and non-
sense.
Mr. Bill. It is even so; and, therefore, young
persons are advised to accustom themselves early
to employment.
Edw. We should apply that to ourselves.
Mr. Bill. Do so, my dear children, and you will
never repent it. Our unfortunate Robinson turned


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
93
and turned again on every side, to try what he
might undertake in order to avoid idleness. At
length he found an employment.
Edw. But how did he intend to employ himself?
Mr. Bill. His thoughts were employed night and
day about building a little boat.
Rich. What use did he intend to make of it?
Mr. Bill. Do you ask what use? To try, by means
of it, to return amongst his fellow-creatures, and
to deliver himself from the solitude to which he was
confined against his will, and which was become
more dismal to him ever since he was deprived of
fire. He had reason to think that the continent of
America was net far off; and he was determined,
if he had a caboe, to face every danger, and land,
if possible, on this continent. Full of this idea, he
hastened out one day to seek, and make choice of a
tree, which he might convert into a boat, by hol-
loving out the trunk of it. With this design he
traversed several parts of the island, and remarked
several plants en which he resolved to make ex-
periments, to find whether they would answer the
purpose of food. Amongst others, he observed
some stalks of inaize, or Indian corn, as it is called.
Edr. Wbat, that sort of corn of which you have
iwo fine ears hanging up in the back parlour ?
si Mr. Pill. The same. lle admired the largeness
of the heads, ot, more properly speaking, the er's
on each of which he reckoned more than two hun-
sred large grains, resembling grains of coral. He
had not the least doubt but this corn might be used
for bread. But how was it to be ground? How
was it to be made into food of any sert, without
the help of fire ? Notwithstanding all these consi-
derations, he carried off some cars of it with him,
intending to sow the grains,

THE CHEN
5
ROBINSC
NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
A little further on he discovered a fruit tree of
a species quite new to him. From this tree hung
vast numbers of large husks, one of which he
opened, and found in it about sixty nuts of a particu-
lar sort. Though they were not very agreeable to
the taste, yet he put one or two of the ripest
husks into his pouch.
Rich. But what fruit might that be?
Mr. Bill. They were cocoa-nuts of which they
make chocolate.
Edw. Ah ! now he may have chocolate for the
future.
Mr. Bill. Not so fast. In the first place, he does
not know that he has chocolate-nuts in his posses-
sion : besides these nuts should be roasted, then
bruised and ground up with sugar, and we all
know, he was as little provided with sugar as with
fire.
At length he came to another tree. The fruit of
it was as large as that of the cocoa-nut tree, and
of an exquisite flavour. This tree was also quite
differently shaped from the cocoa-nut tree. He
learned afterwards that it was the bread tree, so
called because its fruit serves the natives for bread,
sometimes just as it grows, but more commonly
pounded and made into a sort of dough.
He observed, that the trunk of this tree, from
its great age was already a little hollowed on one
side ; and immediately he thought it would answer
for the boat that he had in contemplation ; but then
to cut down so useful a tree, while, on the other
hand, it was uncertain whether he should ever be
able to make a canoe of it !--this thought startled
him. After weighing it in his mind, he marked the
spot, that he might find it again, and went away
without determining upon any thing.
In his walk he found, what he had long wished
for, a parrot's nest. He went towards it without

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
the least noise, and was stretching out his hands to
clap them on the nest, when the young parrots
which were strong and well fledged, took to flight,
and escaped from him all but one, which remained
his prisoner. He hastened, therefore, home to bis
habitation, more pleased than if he had found a
treasure.5 298 S &
Edw. But what great advantage did he expect
from a parrot? DIT
Mr. Bill. He hoped to teach him to pronounce
some words, that he might have the satisfaction of
hearing a voice which imitated that of man. As
to us who live in society, who enjoy the happiness
of seeing men every day, and hearing them, and
conversing with them, we, perhaps, may look upon
it as a very trifling and childish satisfaction which
Robinson promised to himself from hearing the
parrot's chatter ; but if we place ourselves in the
same circumstances with him, we shall easily be
sensible, that what to us, in our present condition,
appears but a shadow of pleasure, must afford
substantial satisfaction to poor Robinson in his state
of solitude, .001
When he came home, he made a cage in which
he lodged his new guest, and went to rest with a
mind as happy as that of a man who had gained a
new friend. sidalsvatud ist
2159Y Y THIRTEENTH EVENING.
to zatie
MR. BILL. I have assembled you this evening
sooner than usual, because, my dears, I intend to
hold a consultation with you before I go on with
the story.

98
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
The Children. Well, papa, we are now all in our
places. What is to be the subject?
Mr. Bill. It is a question that has disturbed Ro-
dinson's mind all night, and has not suffered him to
close his eyes a moment.
The Children. What could it be?
Mr. Bill. It is this. Shall he cut down the
bread-tree, which he saw the day before, or leave
it standing as it is, uncertain whether he should
ever be able to make a boat of it.
Rich. I should be far from meddling with it.
Edw. For my part, I would cut it down.
Mr. Bill. Here are two opposite votes, one for
cutting down, the other for preserving the tree.
Let us hear those who have not spoken yet on the
subject.
Geo. I am of the same way of thinking with
Richard.
Charlotte. And so am I, papa, we must let the
tree stand.
Henry, No; it must be cut down; the unfortu-
nate Robinson must have a canoe.
Harriet. Indeed I think so too.
Mr. Bill. The voices are divided and equal on
both sides. Richard shall speak first, and tell us
why he is for saving the tree.
Rich. Because it bears a valuable fruit, and the
species is rare upon the island.
Edw. It is but an old tree; the advantage of ga-
thering fruit from it will not last long.
Rich. How can you tell that? How many trees do
we see, the trunks of which, though hollow, do
not hinder them from bearing fruit for many years?
Harriet. Let Robinson only graft a few slips of
this tree, he will be sure to preserve the species.
Henry. And is it not better to have a canoe, and
return to the society of men, than to stay in his

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
island, though he were to feed ever so plentifully
upon the bread made of the fruit of this tree?
Rich. Why, ay, if the canoe could be finished so
very soon. But how is he to cut down this tree?
How is he to hollow it out?
Edw. Let him work with perseverance.
Geo. But he has no sail.
Harriet. He may use oars.
Charlotte. A pretty notion indeed! Do not you
remember, when we were in a boat near Putney,
and one of the waterman's oars broke, he was obli.
ged to go ashore and borrow another, as he said we
could not be rowed home with only one ?
Edw. On! that was a large boat, and there were
nine or ten of us in it.
Mr. Bill. My dear children, none of the reasons
that you have mentioned on both sides had escaped
Robinson's attention. He had passed the whole
night in reflecting. Ever since Robinson had felt
the bitter consequences of his resolution to travel,
he had made it a law never to undertake any thing
without first maturely reflecting upon it. Having
turned the question and examined it in every
point of view, he found it came to no more than
this: Whether it be reasonable to sacrifice a slight,
but certain advantage, to a great one, but uncer-
tain? Here he recollected the fable of a dog, which
swimming across a river with a piece of meat in
his mouth, lost it by endeavouring to snatch at the
reflection of it in the water. He remembered, on
the other hand, the custom of husbandmen, who
Sacrifice grain which they might make use of, but do
it with the hope of being richly repaid by a plenti-
ful harvest.
"Yes," said he to himself, “the dog's greediness
was folly ; he catched at a vain shadow, which it was
impossible for him to possess. But the hope of the
husbandman, on the other hand, is well founded,

200 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
and his conduct sensible; he has in view a real ad-
vantage, though, it is true, some accidents may
hinder him from obtaining it.
• Am I not, therefore, in the situation of the farm-
er? With persevering labour, may I not hope to
succeed, at length, in making a canoe out of this
old tree! And if my first undertaking succeeds,
does reason forbid me to expect that I may escape
from this solitary island, and arrive, by means of
my canoe, at some place inhabited by men ?"
This thought made a lively impression on him ;
so that he started up, ran to the tree, and cut into
If ever he undertook a long and troublesome task
it was certainly this; but we have seen already, that
Robinson made it a rule never to suffer himself to
be turned from his purpose; he was, therefore, un-
shaken in his resolution of going through with this
enterprise. From the sun's rising till about noon
he never ceased working, and then his hand could
have covered or filled up the hole that he had made
in the trunk by the thousands of strokes which he
had laid on it.
Being convinced that it would be a work of some
years, he thought proper to divide his time, so that
each part of the day might have its own work allot-
ted to itself. Experience had taught him, that no.
thing helps industry so much as regularity, and a
methodical distribution of the work to the different
hours of the day.
Being provided with whatever was necessary to
his convenience in working, he went down, if it was
low water, to the sea side, where he gathered what
oysters he could find for his dinner; if not, he re-
paired immediately to the tree of which he intend-
ed to make a canoe. His lamas generally follow-
ed him, and grazed about while he was at work.

SC
v
VU
LUN

102
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE
CK.
About ten o'clock the heat was generally so ex-
cessive that he was obliged to quit his work; and
before noon he returned home with his flock,
He now milked his lamas a second time, and then
laid out his dinner, which, being tolerably frugal,
was soon done. He had not so great an appetite in
this country as people have in cold climates; yet, as he
was accustomed to eating meat, he longed for it, and
had recourse to his scheme of drying it in the sun.
At dinner time, he amused himself with his parrot.
After dinner, he commonly reposed himself, for
an hour, surrounded by his lamas, and with his parrot
at his side. Sometimes, he would fix his eyes upon
these animals, and speak to them as if he expected
them to understand what he said. So necessary did
he find it to communicate his sentiments to living
creatures, that he often forgot the impossibility of
his being understood by the animals which surround-
ed him. When his parrot repeated a word distinct-
ly, he would imagine that he heard the voice of a
man. But soon recovering from this pleasing illu-
sion, he would sigh heavily, and breathe forth this
short expression of complaint, “ Poor Robinson !"
About two o'clock-
Edw. How could he always tell what hour it was?
Mr. Bilt. He did as husbandmen sometimes do ;
he observed the height of the sun, and judged
from thence that it was such or such an hour
nearly. And about two o'clock he returned to the
tree to work at his grand design. He continued
two hours each time at this laborious task, and then
returned to the beach to bathe himself again, and
to gather more oysters. The rest of the day he
spent in working at his garden.
Much to Robinson's grief, the longest days was,
in his island, but thirteen hours. In the middle of
summer it was night at seven o'clock. Therefore,

THE NEW, ROBINSON CRUSOE.
103
as night drew on, if he had no other business upon
his hands, he went through his exercise.
Rich. What does that mean, papa!
Mr. Bill. It means that he exercised himself at
shooting with the bow, and throwing the spear, that
he might be able to defend himself if he should
happen to meet with a savage or wild beast. When
night came on, he went home to milk his lamas for
the third time, and took a moderate supper by the
light of the moon or stars.
Lastly, he crowned the labour of the day by me-
ditating at night upon his own conduct. Sometimes
he went to sit upon the top of the hillock, from
whence he could behold the starry vault of heaven,
and contemplate it with admiration. Sometimes,
also, he took a walk upon the sea-side, to breathe
the air freshened by the evening breeze. Then he
would ask himself-_“How have you spent the day?
Having received fresh mercies, have you blessed
the divine source from which they flowed ? In your
trouble have you put your confidence in him ? In
your gratifications have you forgot him? In a word,
are you become really better than you were ?"
- Whenever to these questions his conscience could
testify that the state of his soul was comfortable, he
sung a hymn to the praise of the Supreme Being !
When, on the contrary, he had reason to be not so well
pleased with himself, the thoughts of having thus lost.
a day filled him with sorrow. Whenever this was
the case, then close by the notch that he made every
day upon the tree which served him by way of al-
manack, he made two notches crossing each other;
and this served to put him in mind of his fault, that
for the future he might be better on his guard, and
not fall into the same error.
Thus, my dear children, Robinson laboured to
correct himself, and to become better every day,
Do you also sincerely resolve to form your hearts

104 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
to virtue? I advise you to follow the example that
he now gives you. Like him, reserve an hour
'privately every evening, to give an account to your-
selves in silence of the manner in which you have
spent the day; and, if you find, either in your
thoughts, words, or actions, any thing which your
consciences dare not avow, keep a book wherein you
may mark down the same, that, having before your
eyes the fault of which you have once been guilty,
you may ever afterwards take more care to avoid it.
By thus labouring to improve yourselves every day,
you will also continually increase your own satis-
faction and happiness.
My dear children, I doubt not that you will afford
every proof of your attention and docility, and this
very night begin to put in practice the good advice
which I have just given you.
FOURTEENTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. Yesterday I gave you the particu-
lars of Robinson's manner of living. Three years
passed away, and it was still the same. In ail
that time, he had scarcely cut through half the
trunk of the tree, and it now seemed a matter of
doubt to him whether he could cut down the tree
in less than three or four years more.
bas
In the mean time he never slackened the work.
One day the thought struck him, that as long as
he had lived in this island, he had through fear
seen but a very small part of it. * Had I been less
afraid," said he, " I might have discovered many

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
105
things which would at present be very useful to
me."
This consideration determined him to set out the
very next morning by day-break in order to take a
view of the whole island.
His first day's journey was remarkable for no ex-
traordinary accident. The farther he went the plainer
he could perceive that the situation of his dwelling.
place was settled in the barrenest part of the island.
In many parts he found trees, such as he had never
seen before, which appeared to bear fruits capable
of furnishing him with a nourishment as wholesome
as it was agreeable.
Amongst these trees was one called the paper
mulberry-tree, the bark of which is wrought into a
fine sort of paper by the people of Japan, and makes
a handsome summer stuff for the inhabitants of
Otaheité. Robinson slept the first night in a tree,
and at the first dawn of day he set out again.
He had not travelled far before he found himself
at the southern extremity of the island. In some
places the soil was sandy. He had a mind to walk
out upon a neck of land which extended pretty far
into the sea, but suddenly starting back, he grew
as pale as death. He looked round him in a
tremble, and then became incapable of motion.
Rich. What was the matter with him ?
Mr. Bill. His eyes discovered what he never ex.
pected to find there, the tracks of men's feet imprint-
ed in the sand,
Edzu. What! does that frighten him?
Mr. Bill. I will explain to you the reason of his
fright. Upon his first beholding these tracks, he
did not represent to himself the men, whose steps
left the impressions he saw as civilized, but he
Imagined them to be ready, if they met him, to
devour him : in a word, he did not suppose that
civilized Europeans had been upon the spot, but


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE. 107
SOON
savages and cannibals; that is, men whose horrible
custom it was to feed upon human flesh.
Rich. That idea is enough, indeed, to shock one.
Mr. Bill. It would have been better for Robinson,
had he at this moment, preserved more coolness
and presence of mind.
Rich. But I do not rightly understand how we
can bring ourselves into this temper.
Mr. Bill, By fortifying our bodies with sobriety.
and by preserving our minds by a steady and enlight-
ened piety. Thus fortified, we shall be able to
bear every change of fortune, and look upon danger
with an eye of indifference. Be careful also to
acquire and preserve to yourselves the precious
treasure of a conscience free from reproach, which
assures you of the protection and favour of the
Most High; then, my dear children, you will feel
yourselves possessed of all the strength of body and
mind that your are capable of possessing. The
most disagreeable events may cause you some sur-
prise but will not have power to shake the serenity
of your minds.
Robinson, as you see, had not yet reached that
degree of fortitude so necessary to his happiness and
repose. This may be imputed to the life which
he had led. In a state of constant tranquillity, (mark
well this truth, my dear children,) man never ac-
quires all the courage of which his mind is sus-
ceptible. Nay, too much ease sometimes serves no
other purpose than to render a man vitious. We
ought, therefore, to be thankful for those trials
which Heaven sends us, be they ever so severe,
since they are the means of strengthening our cou-
rage by experience.
You remember into what a consternation the un-
expected sight of some tracks of men's feet threw
the poor affrighted Robinson. He looks round to
every quarter at the noise of every leaf he feels

108
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
fresh terror. In the confusion of his spirits, he
knows not what to resolve on : at last, he takes to
flight, like a man who is pursued; and dares
not even once look back. But suddenly his fear
is changed into horror. Ah! my dear children.
prepare yourselves for the horrible consequences
of man's deprayed state when totally abandoned to
himself, and deprived of all education. He was a
round hole, in the middle of which saw a space
whereon fire seemed to have been kindled, which
presented the horrible remains of an unnatural feast,
where a human body had been devoured.
The Children, How shocking! What, by men ?
Mr. Bill. Can they be called men ? They have
only the outside of men. These were their prison.
ers of war, on whom they made a horrible feast.
in which their savage joy manifested itself by dances
and songs, or rather the howlings of gorged canni-
bals.
Charlotte. Oh! the detestable creatures ! et to
Mr. Bill. Let us, my dear Charlotte, detest their
atrocious manners, and not their persons. If you
had received your birth amongst these savage people,
you would, like them, have run about naked in the
woods, without the least shame, fierce as a brute
beast. Rejoice, therefore, and bless God that you
belong to parents who were born and bred up in
polished society, and pity the uphappy lot of those
men, who, being left to themselves, still lead a
savage life like that of wild beasts in the woods. tite
Robinson turned his eyes away from the hideous
spectacle. As soon as he was a little recovered, he
Red away again with so much precipitation, that his
lama could scarcely keep up with him. Fear had
so taken possession of Robinson's faculties, that he
quite forgot his lama, and, hearing its steps close by
him, as he ran, had not the least doubt but there
was á cannibal, behind in close pursuit of him.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE,
109
Filled with this notion, he fled with redoubled speed,
and in order to be less encumbered in his flight, he
threw away his spear, his bow, his arrows and his
hatchet. In his flight, he forgets whither he is run-
ning. Thus, after he had run for near an hour, it
happened that he made a circuit, which brought himn
back to the very spot from whence he had set out.
Here was new terror! He forgot the place; he
takes it for a second proof of the horrible cruelty he
was endeavouring to avoid. He, therefore, conti-
nues his flight as long as he hath strength to carry
him. At length, quite exhausted, he falls down
without sense or motion. Here his lama, having
overtaken him, lies down beside him, spent with
fatigue. By mere chance it was the very spot where
Robinson had thrown away his arms. Seeing his
arms scattered about on the grass, he imagined
himself in a dream. He could not conceive by
what means they were conveyed there, nor how he
came there himself; so much had his fright dis-
turbed all the faculties of his mind. .
He rose now to leave the place, but his confu-
sion being somewhat abated, he was not so impru-
dent as to forget his arms. He had no appetite for
the remainder of the day, and he never stopped
but once, at a spring to quench his thirst.
He hoped to be able to get home that same day,
but found it impossible. At night-fall he was with-
in a couple of miles of his own dwelling, at a place
which he called his country-seat. The year before,
he had lain there several nights in the summer
time, being grievously tormented with moschetoes
at his old dwelling-place. His strength being quite
gone, he was not able to go any farther. Worn
out with fatigue, he lay down to take some repose ;
but scarcely was he half asleep, when a fresh sub-
ject of terror had nearly deprived him of his senses
once more.

110
T HE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Rich. Poor fellow! to what alarms he is expo-
sed!
Edw. What was the matter, then ?
Mr. Bill. He heard a voice in the air, which very
distinctly uttered these words, “Robinson, poor
Robinson ! where have you been ?”
Robinson started up not knowing what to think.
He ventures to turn his eyes towards the quarter
from which the voice came, and finds --what
think ye?
The Children. Nay, we can't tell.
Mr. Bill. He found that it was the voice of his
own parrot, which was perched upon the branch of
a tree close by.
The Children. Ha! ha! ha! that is droll enough.
Mr. Bill. No doubt the bird was tired of being
left alone, and came thither to seek him.
His fright was now turned to joy at having found
out the cause of the false alarm. Robinson stretches
out his hand and calls “Poll!” The bird flies to
him, crying, “Robinson ! poor Robinson ? where
have you been ?”
Still restless and apprehensive, Robinson scarce
closed his eyes the whole night. When once the
imagination receives a violent shock, to what ex.
tremities does it cause a man's thoughts to wander ?
Robinson thought of a thousand plans for his future
security, every one more extravagant than the other.
Amongst the rest he had formed the resolution of
destroying all the works that he had made. The
copse in which he now lay, and the hedge, were to
be destroyed; his lamas turned loose ; his dwelling.
place to be all demolished. He would not have
the smallest appearance remaining of any thing
that might seem to be the work of man's hands.
Rich. For what reason?
Mr. Bil. That if the sayages should chance to

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
111
pay a visit to this side of the island, they might not
perceive that there was a man there.
Let us now leave him to his apprehensions, and
while we go to rest sheltered from the danger to
which he thinks himself exposed, let us return
thanks to the Supreme Being, that we were born
in a country, where, living amongst men who are
civilized, we may compose ourselves to rest with-
out having any thing to fear from the barbarity of
inhuman savages.
The Children. Good night, papa:
FIFTEENTH EVENING.
My dear children, it is a good proverb which ad.
vises us to consult our pillow before we take any
important resolution.
Scarce had the mild light of morning dispersed
the shades of night, when Robinson saw things in
quite a different view. What he before judged
necessary, appears to him an extravagant project.
In a word, he forms other plans which his judgment
approves.
Robinson now saw that his fright, the day before,
had been carried to an extravagant pitch. “I have
been here,” said he, “a long time, and no savage
has ever yet come near my habitation. It is most
likely that they are inhabitants of another island,
from whence some of them come here now and
then, to celebrate their victories by a horrible feast.
“Why should I not hope that the same Provi.
dence will continue to protect me against all dan-
gers, since I have hitherto been so remarkably pre-
served from the greatest ?" Filled with sorrow

112 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOR.
and repentance, he threw himself prostrate on the
ground, to implore pardon for this new fault. Hav-
ing now recovered his strength, he walked towards
his cave to put in execution the new designs which
he had just formed.
Rich. What did he propose to do?
Mr. Bill. The first thing that he did, was to plant,
without side, at a small distance from the trees which
enclosed the front space before his cave, a thick wood
which might cover it at a distance, and hinder it
from being seen.
With this design, he planted, one after another,
near two thousand slips of that sort of willow which
he had before observed to take root and grow up
in so short a time. He resolved next to dig a sub.
terraneous passage from the bottom of his cave to
the other side of the hill, that, in a case of extre.
mity, he might have a backway to escape by. This
was also a troublesome and a tedious task.
In opening this subterraneous passage, he began
exactly as miners do, who first dig a pit and then
a gallery. I
Geo. What sort of a gallery ?
Rich. The miners first dig into the earth straight
down, and this perpendicular opening they call a
pit. When they are come to a certain depth, they
begin to hollow it out horizontally; and this pas-
sage they call a gallery. Thus they go on from
pits to galleries until they come to the vein or bed
of metal.
Mr. Bill. Very well explained. Observe, that
when they dig thus sideways, or horizontally, the
earth which is over their heads would soon crumble
down, if they did not take care as they went on to
keep it up: this they do by means of cross planks.
Whatever earth Robinson cleared out of it, he
carried close to the hedge, and took care to level

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
113
it. Thus, by degrees, he raised a terrace, about
ten feet high, and almost eight thick.
He seemed now sufficiently secured against a
sudden attack. But, then, if the enemy should be
obstinate, and block him up for some time, what
are to be his resources ?
He thought it, therefore, necessary to provide
also against such an event, and to contrive means
whereby he might avoid the necessity of surrender.
ing for want of provisions. To prevent any such
extremity, he resolved to keep constantly within
the enclosure one of his lamas that gave milk, and
to have, by way of reserve for the support of this
animal, a small rick of hay. He was moreover
resolved to lay up a stock of cheese, fruits and oys.
ters.
For some years there happened nothing worth
relating. I hasten now to an event which had more
influence on the lot of Robinson, than all that had
happened to him in his island as yet.
One fine clear morning, as he was working at
his canoe, he perceived a very thick smoke rising
at a distance.
He hastened to the top of his little hillock to dis-
cover the true cause of the smoke. Scarcely was
he arrived there, when he was struck with con.
sternation at the sight of five or six canoes drawn
up on the beach, and a score or two of savages
dancing round a great fire, with the most fantastic
motions and horrid cries imaginable.
He ran down the hill to put himself in a posture
of defence, took his arms, implored the assistance
of Heaven, and firmly resolved to defend his life to
the last extremity.
Presently his indignation and horror was raised
to the highest pitch, when he beheld them drag
two unfortunate wretches from the canoes towards
the place where the fire was. He suspected, at
10*

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
first sight, that they were going to despatch them.
Some of these monsters kill one of the captives,
and two others fall upon him, no doubt, in order
to cut him into pieces, and prepare their abominable
feast. During this shocking execution, the other
prisoner sat á melancholy spectator of what was do-
ing, in the expectation of very soon receiving the
same treatment in his turn. But while these bar-
barians were busily taken up with the butchery of
his companion, he suddenly starts away, and flies
with astonishing swiftness directly towards Robin-
son's dwelling-place.
Joy, hope, fear, and horror, alternately seized
on Robinson's heart. He felt a joy mingled with
hope, when he observed the prisoner to gain ground
considerably on his pursuers: he was filled with
fear and horror when he saw both parties coming
as straight as possible towards his habitation. They
were separated from it only by a small creek, which
the savage who fled, must cross to avoid falling into
the enemy's hands. As soon as he came to the
bank of it, he threw himself in without hesitation,
and crossed it with the swiftness that he had exerted
in running. Two of those who were nearest to him
threw themselves in after him, and all the rest
returned to their abominable feast. Robinson per-
ceived that these two last were not such expert
swimmers as he whom they pursued. He was
landed before they had half crossed the creek. At
this moment, Robinson was animated with a cou-
rage and zeal such as he had never felt before. He
takes his spear and runs down from the top of the
hillock, and finds himself just between the pursu-
ers and the pursued. He cries to the latter, “Stop!
stop !” but he, turning about, is terrified at the
looks of Robinson eressed up in skins; he takes
him for some superior being, and hesitates whether
to fall at his feet or run away from him. Robinson

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
115
gives him to understand, by signs, that he was his
friend, and then, turning about, and marching to-
wards the enemy. When within reach of the fore-
most savage, he throws his spear at him, and strikes
him to the ground. The other savage fixes an ar-
row to his bow, and discharges it at Robinson. The
arrow struck him on the left breast, but luckily the
skins kept it from penetrating, and it fell at Robin-
son's feet.
Our hero does not give his enemy time to shoot
a second arrow ? he rushes upon him and lays him
lifeless in the dust.
He now turns towards him whom he had pro-
tected, and sees him still on the same spot, motion-
less, doubting whether the action that he had just
been witness to, was meant for his preservation, or
whether he himself must fall, in his turn. The con-
queror calls him; makes him understand, by signs,
that he is to come nearer. He at first obeys, then
stops, walks on a little way, stops again, advances
slowly with evident marks of fear, and in the atti-
tude of a suppliant. Robinson makes him every
sign of friendship possible, and invites him to come
close up to him.
He takes off his mask, and looks at him with a
friendly air. At this sight the savage flies towards
his deliverer, prostrates himself to the ground, kiss-
es the ground, takes one of Robinson's feet and
puts it on his neck, to signify that he was his slave.
But out hero quickly held out his hand to him in
a friendly manner, and endeavoured, by all the
means imaginable, to convince him that he should
be well used. However, there still remained some-
thing to be done.
The first savage was wounded, but not killed.
Being now come to himself, he was gathering
herbs and applying them to his wound to stop the
blood. Robinson made the savage who stood near

-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
him, observe this, who immediately spoke some
Words in return. Though Robinson did not under-
sland them, yet they pleased his ear by their novel-
ly, being the first sound of the human voice that
he had heard for many years. The Indian fixing
his eyes alternately upon Robinson and his hatchet,
pointing to it with his finger, gave him to under.
stand that he desired this weapon to despatch the
enemy. Our hero gives his hatchet, and turns his
eyes from seeing the bloody use that is going to be
made of it. The Indian runs up to his adversary,
strikes off his head at a blow, and returns with the
cruel smile of gratified revenge; then lays at Ro-
binson's feet the bleeding head of the savage he
had killed.
Robinson made signs to him to gather up the bows
and arrows of the slain, and to follow him. The Indian,
in return, gave him to understand, by signs, that it
would be proper to bury the two dead savages in the
sand, that, if their companions should afterwards
come to seek them, they might not find any remains
of them,
Robinson having signified that he approved this
precaution, the Indian fell to work with the assist-
ance only of his hands, and in less than a quarter
of an hour the two bodies were buried.
Charlotte. But, papa, was not Robinson guilty of
murder?
Henry. Ob!those that he had killed were savages.
Charlotte. Yet still they were men.
Mr. Bill. Certainly they were, men, my dear
Hepry; but the question is, had Robinson a right
to take away their lives?
Rich. I think he did very right.
Edw. If he had not killed them, they would have
discovered his retreat, and have toid all their com-
panions of it.
Mr. Bill. Why that is a pretty good reason. Bat

118
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
am I excusable in taking away another man's life
that I may preserve my own?
The Children. Yes, certainly.
I
Mr. Bill. Why so ?
Rich. Because it is the will of our maker that we
preserve our lives as long as it is in our power.
Mr. Bill. Without doubt, my dear children, pro-
vided we have no other means of saving our lives,
than by depriving the unjust aggressor of his
Remember, my dear children, to thank God
that you were born in a country where the govern-
ment has taken proper steps for the security of
our persons as well as properties,
This is enough for to-day. To-morrow evening
I shall, perhaps, find something more to relate to
you.
SIXTEENTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. Robinson's lot, my dear chldren, is
still very uncertain. He went up along with the
savage to the top of the hill behind his dweller,
being both of them exceedingly uneasy as to what
might still befall them.
From the top of a hillock he took a view of the
savages, who, by their extravagant dances and bor-
rid howlings, expressed the joy that they felt after
their barbarous feast. He deliberated how he
should act, whether to fly, or shut himself up in
his fort. In order not to be perceived, he slipped
behind the bushes, crept to his ladder of ropes, and
made a sign to his companion to follow him, and
do as he did, and very soon they were both at the
Dottom.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
119
The Indian, seeing the commodious arrangement
of every thing in his deliverer's dwelling-place, was
seized with surprise.
Robinson endeavoured by signs to make him un-
derstand what they had to fear from the savages,
and that, in case they should come to attack him,
he was resolved to defend himself to the last extre-
mity. The Indian understood him, and imme-
diately, with a resolute air, brandishes the hatchet,
looks with a threatening countenance towards the
enemy, and thus endeavours to assure his deliverer
that he was ready to defend himself courageously.
Robinson armed the Indian with a spear, a bow and
arrows, and placed him centinel at a kind of port-
hole which he had made in his terrace.
About an hour afterwards, they heard dreadful
cries at a distance, which seemed to come from
many savages together. They both prepared for
combat, and, by their looks, mutually encouraged
each other to make the most vigorous defence. The
cries ceased--presently they began again, louder
and nearer--they are succeeded by a deep silence.
--Not long afterwards, quite near at hand shouted
a terrible hoarse voice, which was repeated by the
echo of the hillock. Already our two champions
were in a posture of defence; the first savage that
showed himself must infallibly have received a mor-
tal wound. Here I stop.-
The Children. But why does not papa go on with
the story?
Mr. Bill. To furnish you with a fresh opportu.
nity of exercising yourselves in the art of conquer-
ing your desires. If you absolutely desire it, I am
ready to satisfy your curiosity. But suppose you
were freely to give up the gratification of your cu-
riosity until to-morrow? Speak; do you consent or
not?
The Children. Yes, papa, we agree to it. We


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
121
shall be in some pain about Robinson-but never
mind, to-morrow evening will make amends
Heaven preserve poor Robinson !
Mr. Bill. Your compliance, my dear children,
fills me with joy. Amuse yourselves, for the re-
mainder of the evening, in whatever way is most
agreeable to you.
SEVENTEENTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. We last night left Robinson and his
companion on the watch. They continued on guard
till it was almost night; but having perceived no
enemy, nor heard any voice for some hours, it
seemed very probable, that the savages had returned
to their canoes, and were gone back to their own
island. They laid down their arms, therefore, and
Robinson brought out something for supper
As this day, so perticularly remarkable in the ad-
ventures of our hero, happened to be a Friday, he
resolved to perpetuate the remembrance of it, by
giving to the savage the name of Friday.
Till now, Robinson had scarce time to look at him
with attention. He was a well made young man ;
his complexion was swarthy, his hair black and long,
not woolly like that of the negroes; his nose short,
his lips small, and his teeth as white as ivory. In
his ears he wore various feathers and shells, an or-
nament on which he seemed to lay no small value;
in other respects he was naked.
Robinson, who had a proper regard for decency,
would not go to supper until he had fitted a skin
for his new guest. He then made signs to him to
sit down beside him and eat his supper. Friday,

122
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
as we now shall call him, approaches Robinson ; falls
down on his face before him, and places the foot of
his deliverer on his own neck, as he had done be-
fore.
Robinson, whose heart could scarce contain his
joy on having found at length a companion and a
friend, would have been glad to express it by a
thousand marks of kindness; but, not knowing the
character of his new guest, he thought it prudent
to receive his homage as due to him, and, in a
word, to act as his sovereign for some time. He
made him, therefore, understand by signs that he
would take him under his protection, but on condi-
tion of perfect obedience. While he instructed
him thus by signs, he pronounced the word Ca-
cique. Fortunately he remembered to have once
heard that the savages of South America call their
chiefs and princes by that name.
By this word Friday understood what his master
meant; and, to show that he accepted the condition
of obeying, he repeated the word Cacique several
times with a loud voice, intimating that he applied
it to Robinson, and fell down prostrate at his feet
once more. Robinson, with the dignity of a mo-
narch, held out his hand to him, assuring him of
his protection, and ordered him again to sit down
beside him and eat his supper,
Here, my dears, you may see an example of the
first beginning of kingly power in the world. Men,
who excelled others in wisdom, strength, and
courage, were the first kings. Weak men implored
the protection and help of the stronger, either to de.
fend them from the danger of wild beasts, which
were, in early times, more numerous than at pre-
sent, or to secure themselves against the injustice
of violent men. In return, they promised to sub-
mit entirely to them, and to pay them every year a
certain part of their fruits and focks, that the pro-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
123
was
tectors, not having to provide for their own sub-
sistence, might be wholly at leisure to defend their
subjects.
Robinson was now, therefore, in effect, a king
The island was his kingdom, his lamas and his
fruits were his treasure, and Friday his subject;
his only one, it is true, but a valuable one. His
parrot was the only courtier that he had, and almost
useless in that character.
After supper, it pleased his majesty to give or-
ders concerning every thing that he chose to have
observed in the ceremony of going to bed. It was
not prudent that Friday should so soon repose in
the same chamber with his majesty, He, there-
fore, judged it proper that he should pass the night
in the cellar. How could he resolve to trust his
life, and the secret of the subterraneous passage, to
a stranger?
Robinson Crusoe, king of a whole island, abso-
lute master of the life and death of all his subjects,
did not blush to descend to a servile office. He
went to the lamas, and with his own kingly hands
began to milk them. It was meant for the instruc-
tion of his prime minister, as he intended, for the
future, to commit the care of this business to him.
Friday, with all his attention, could not under-
stand what his master was doing; for neither he
nor his stupid countrymen had ever suspected that
the milk of animals might be proper food for man.
He had never tasted any, and was agreeably sur-
prised at the sweetness of it, when Robinson per-
suaded him to put some to his lips for a trial.
After the fatigues which they had suffered during
the day, they both found themselves in want of re-
pose. Robinson, therefore, ordered his slave to go
to the place of rest which he had pointed out to
him, and lay down himself, blessing Heaven for
baving, in one day, preserved him from so many


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
12
dangers, and given him one of his fellow-creatures
to be his companion, and, perhaps, his friend.
EIGHTEENTH EVENING.
RICHARD. I am curious to know what Ro.
binson will undertake now with his man Friday.
Mr. Bill. My dear children, you will see every
clay more clearly what great advantages man derives
from society.
The first thing that Robinson did the next morn-
ing, was to go with Friday and examine the spot
where the savages had held their abominable feast
the day before. In their walk, they came to the
place where the two Indians were buried, whoni
they had then slain. Friday pointed it out to his
master, and plainly hinted that he was desirous of
digging up the dead bodies and satisfying his un-
natural appetite upon them. Robinson, with a look
of detestation and horror, showed him how much
he disliked such an inclination, and, lifting up his
spear in a threatening manner, signified to him
that he would run it through his body if ever he
touched them. Friday understood his threatening,
and submitted without hesitation to his orders.
They soon arrived at the place of the feast. What
a sight! The ground stained with blood! Bones
scattered about! Robinson ordered Friday imme-
diately to bury these loathsome remains of barba-
vous voracity.
While Friday was at work, Robinson was carefully
stirring the ashes, in the hopes of finding some fire
still amongst them: but to no purpose; the whole
was extinguished, much to Robinson's slissatisfaction,

126
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
who had now scarce any thing left to wish for, ex.
cept a fire. While he looked sorrowfully upon
these ashes, Friday made several signs which Ro-
binson did not at all comprehend; then he snatches
up the hatchet, darts into the wood, and leaves
Robinson in the greatest astonishment possible.
Having followed him with his eyes as long as he
could, “ What can this mean?” said he : “ Can the
ungrateful fellow intend to forsake me? Or would
le have the barbarity to deliver me up by stratagem
to his savage countrymen?"--Horrid thought !
Transported with rage, he sets out in pursuit of the
ungrateful traitor, when suddenly, he perceived
Friday returning. Robinson stops in a surprise ;
he sees, to his no small astonishment, the imaginary
traitor holding a small bundle of dried grass, which
first appeared to smoke, and then to be on fire.
Friday throws it down, and hastily gathers around it
other grass and dry branches, and kindles a bright
clear fire, which fills Robinson with joy and asto-
nishment. Not able to contain his joy, he flies, with
transport, to Friday, and, in his own mind, asks him
pardon for the injurious suspicions that he had
entertained of him.
Edw. But where could Friday have found fire ?
Mr. Bill. He had hastened into the wood on pur-
pose to cut two dry branches. These he had rub-
bed together with such dexterity and despatch, that
they took fire quickly.
Mr. Mered. Here, again, Robinson appears to
me to be very much to blame.
Rich. In what respect, pray ?
Mr. Mered. That, without having any proof of
Friday's treachery, he forms the blackest suspicion
of him.
Rich. He had a right to be upon his guard against
Friday,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
127
Mr. Mered. I do not blame him either for think-
ing it possible that he was betrayed by Friday, or
for running after him. This precaution was neces-
sary, with respect to a person totally unknown to him.
But what I am angry with him for, is, that he never
doubted a moment the truth of his odious suspicions,
and that he suffered himself to be transported with
rage.
Mr. Bill. Robinson was transported with joy to
find his ill suspicions groundless, and hi
more in possession of fire, which he had so long
wished for.
He instantly lights up a large fire, and places
potatoes round it to roast. He next chooses out a
young lama, kills it, and, having cut it up, puts a
quarter of it on the spit, which he instructs Friday
how to turn.
While he is thus employed, Robinson cuts off
a piece from the breast of the lama, and made some
broth.
He had not tasted any for eight years past. You
may guess how much he longed for some.
Friday looked on while all these preparations were
making, but did not understand to what purpose
they were made. He knew not the effect which fire
would produce on a vessel full of water. The pot
began to boil just as Robinson went into the cave
upon some occasion or other. Friday had no idea
what could thus put the water in motion. But when
he saw it bubbling up and boil over the sides, he ima-
gined, in the simplicity of his heart, that there must
be some living creature at the bottom of the pot,
and, therefore, lest it should boil away entirely, he
put his hand in to seize the creature, whatever it
was ; but, instead of finding that, he felt something
which made him roar loud enough to shake the
whole hillock.

123
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Robinson was startled, on hearing him cry out.
His first notion was that the savages had surprised
them. The natural instinct of self-preservation
urged him to escape, and save his life by the secret
passage under ground; but he quickly rejected this
idea, considering how base it would be thus to
abandon his subject, or rather friend. Without he-
sitating, therefore, he firmly resolved to shed the
last drop of his blood, if necessary, in rescuing Fri-
day from the hands of his barbarous enemies.
Mr. Mered. Now I like you my friend Robinson.
Mr. Bill. He springs out, with his spear in his
hand ;-but, to his utter astonishment, finds Friday
all alone, crying, and making a thousand wry faces.
Robinson at length found that all this outcry was
occasioned by poor Friday's scalding his hand.
Robinson had no small difficulty in quieting him.
But that you may know why Friday had made
such a noise, I must first inform you what notions
ignorant people, in some countries, commonly en-
tertain when an accident happens to them of which
they know not the reason.
For instance, in some places, if an ignorant coun-
tryman has either of his cattle fallen suddenly ill,
and cannot guess its disorder, he, perhaps, will be
weak enough to think that soine old person in the
neighbourhood has bewitched the beast; that is,
made it fall sick by means of an evil spirit.
Charlotte. Yes, papa ; just so Nanny, our dairy
maid, said the other day, when one of the cows
went dry all of a sudden.
Mr. Bill. My dear Charlotte, you should try to
convince the poor girl of her error.
If, on the one hand, ignorant people give credit
to these silly notions, there are not wanting, on the
other, impostors who turn such credulity to their
own advantage, and cunningly trick those out of
their money who are so weak as to believe in witch-
went dry: My dear
her error

-

130
TUE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
craft. In proportion as men's understandings are
narrowed by prejudice, and darkened by ignorance,
the more they are inclined to superstition : you may
ceived amongst savage nations, and this was ex-
actly Friday's case.
He had never heard it said, nor discovered by his
own experience, that water could be made to boil?
putting his hand into it; so that he could not con-
ceive whence that acute and sudden pain proceed-
ed, which he felt on touching the boiling water, and
therefore, firmly believed that Robinson was a con-
jurer.
You will often, in the course of your lives, have
occasion to see effects of which you will not be able
to discover the causes. You will meet with jug.
glers, who will frequently surprise you with the
ingenious tricks and devices that they show. For
instance, they will change to all appearance, a bird
into a mouse; they will cut a birti's head off, and
afterwards show it to you alive and well; in short,
they will perform several tricks of the same nature
and you shall never be able to find out the manner
of performing them. If, on such occasions, you
should be tempted to believe that there is witchcraft
in the matter, remember Friday, and be assured
that you are in the same error with him, and take
that for supernatural, which, when explained, ap-
pears perfectly natural and easy.
Robinson, as I told you before, did not easily
succeed in comforting Friday, and persuading him
to take his place again at the spit. He took his
new monarch for a supernatural being, and could
inost timorous respect. What confirmed him in
his opinion was Robinson's ruddy complexion anth
long beard, which gave him an appearance so dir.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE. 131
ferent from that of Friday and his tawny, beardless
countrymen.
Edw. Have the savages of South America no
beard?
Mr. Bill. No; they pluck it up as it grows.
But the broth, and the roast meat, were now
ready. As they had no spoons, Robinson poured
out the broth in two pipkins, but nothing could in-
cluce Friday so much as to taste it; he had not the
least doubt of its being an enchanted liquor; but he
he helped himself to the roast meat and potatoes,
which made him amends.
You may easily imagine how delicious these
nourishing victuals, drest properly on the fire, must
seem to Robinson. Thus Providence, by a flow of
unexpected happiness, cures those wounds which
have been made in our hearts, and which, though
intended for our good, the sense of present pain
makes us ever regard as the most incurable evils.
The meal being finished, Robinson retired to
meditate seriously on the happy change of his situ-
ation. He was no longer solitary; he had a com-
panion, with whom, it is true, he was not able to
converse as yet; but the very company of this man
promised to afford him the most valuable assistance.
Besides, being no longer deprived of fire, he
might enjoy as wholesome and agreeable victuals
as he could wish. “What is there to hinder you
now," said he, “from living contented and happy?
Enjoy in peace the many benefits which you have
received from Heaven." Here an idea occurred to
him which totally changed the complexion of his
thoughts.
“But,” said he to himself, “what if you were
very soon to see an end of all this prosperity? If Fri-
day were to die? If your fire were to go out again?
« And if, moreover, by being accustomed to an
inactive life, you were to render yourself incapable

132
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
of supporting a laborious way of living, such as you
have already experienced.
“To what, then, are you principally indebted for
getting rid of the many faults and weaknesses
which once disgraced you? Is it not to the sober
and laborious life which circumstances forced you
to pursue ? And now, by indulging yourself in sen-
suality and idleness, you would run the risk of lo-
sing that health and strength of body and mind which
temperance and exercise have procured you. Hea-
ven forbid !”- With these words he rose hastily, and
walked about in a thoughtful mood before the mouth
of his cave. This led him to take a resolution as
prudent as it was unalterable.
6 I will," said he, “partake of the gifts of Hea-
ven, but always with the greatest temperance. The
most simple victuals shall be my favourite food. I
will persevere in my labours with the same assidu-
ity, though they will no longer be so necessary to
me as formerly. One day in each week I will live
on the same cold victuals with which I have hither-
to subsisted myself.” Having formed these reso-
lutions of self-denial, he felt the pleasing and pure
satisfaction which ever accompanies the efforts that
we make to attain a higher degree of perfection.
He foresaw the happy consequences of these volun-
tary sacrifices. But he was sufficiently acquainted
with the inconstancy of the human heart, not to be
on his guard against the fickleness of his own. He
thought it best to make some visible mark which
might make him recollect his laudable resolutions
every day. For this purpose he engraved, with his
hatchet, in the rock over the entrance of his cave,
these words--Labour and Temperance.
My dear children, I give you until to-morrow to
reflect upon these instructive particulars.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
NINETEENTH EVENING.
ROBINSON had never been in so happy a situa-
tion since his arrival on the island as he was now.
The only thing that remained to trouble him, was
his apprehension lest the savages should return to
seek for their two countrymen.
Things being, therefore, in this situation, it was
incumbent on him to put himself into a state of de-
fence. He had long been desirous of fortifying
His habitation still more; but, while he was alone,
the execution of this design appeared impossible.
Now, with the assistance of a companion, he thought
himself capable of undertaking it. He resolved,
therefore, on the outside of the barricade of trees
which enclosed his habitation, to dig a broad deep
trench, the inner bank of which should be defended
with a strong row of paling
He, moreover, conceived the design of dividing
the neighbouring rivulet into two branches, that,
in case of a siege, he might not be in want of wa-
ter:
Friday comprehended, by signs, the whole of this
plan; and they both fell to work immediately.
I dare say you can easily imagine that this was
no slight undertaking. The trench, to be of any
use, must be, at least, six feet deep, and eight
Broad; the length might be about fourscore or onc
hundred yards.
To execute such an undertaking as this without
any instrument of iron-no pickaxe—no shovel,
think what a difficulty it must be.
All these obstacles did not discourage our friend
Robinson, who had taken a resolution that was not

13+ THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
to be shaken. By leading a life of temperance and
continual labour, he was master of a degree of cou-
rage which is not possessed by men brought up in
idieness, used to delicate living, and enervated by
effeminacy. With God's help, and with perseverance,
was his motto, in beginning a work of labour and
time.
Friday and he worked every day from sunrise to
sunset; so that they advanced the work surprising-
ly. Fortunately, during two whole months the
savages never appeared ; a contrary wind hindered
them from coming over to Robinson's island.
Robinson, who was earnestly desirous of being
able to converse with Friday, took the opportunity
to teach him a few words of English every day; and
Friday was so attentive, that in a short time he made
a considerable progress. Robinson took the most
natural and easy way to communicate the language
to him: whenever it could conveniently be done,
he placed the object before his eyes, and then pro-
nounced the name of it distinctly; but when it was
necessary to communicate the names of things
which could not be made perceptible in this manner,
Robinson accompanied the name with gestures and
signs so expressive that Friday could not possibly
misunderstand. And, by these means, in less than
six months he was able to explain himself tolerably
well in English
Hitherto Friday had been no better than a dumb
man to him ; now they are able to communicate
their thoughts to each other as friends.
The more he knew Friday the more he liked him.
The young man was good-natured, and had the
greatest affection possible for his master : so that
Robinson made him take share of his cave, that
they might pass the nights together.
In less than two months they finished the trench,
and looked upon themselves, therefore, as sufficient
ly guarded against all danger.

THE NEW ROBINSON 135
CRU
CRUSOE.
.
Robinson and Friday, being one day near the sea-
side upon a rising ground, perceived at a distance,
some islands which appeared like small clouds.
Friday fixed his eyes attentively on that quarter.
All of a sudden he starts up, falls a dancing, and
throws himself into so many extravagant attitudes,
that Robinson thought he was seized with a sudden
frenzy. “Yonder is my country !” said he, almost
breathless with joy; “that is where my people
live!” His countenance expressed the love which
he bore his country, and his desire to see it once
more. Robinson was not at all pleased with this
disposition of Friday's : and, therefore, began the
following conversation, which will show you the ex-
cellent disposition of Friday.
Robinson. Would you be glad, then, to return to
your countrymen, and live amongst them?
Friday. Oh, yes ; I should be very glad to see
them again.
Rob. Perhaps you long to eat man's flesh with
them again?
Frid. No, certainly. I would teach them not to
be savages, but to live on milk and the flesh of ani-
anals.
Rob. But, perhaps, they would eat yourself?
Frid. No, they will never do so.
Rob. And yet they have devoured many men and
will many more stili.
Frid. Ay, but only their enemies.
Rob. Could you make a canoe that would carry
you to them?
Frid. Yes, certainly.
Rob. Well, then, make one, and set out when you
please_How ! you look down! What is the matter
with you?
Frid. Because my dear master is angry with me.
Rob. Angry! What makes you think so?
Frid. Because he wants to send me away.

136
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Rob. Well, but did not you wish just now to be in
your own country?
Frid. Yes; but if my master does not go there, I
will not go-10---10 more.
Rob. Your people would take me for an enemy
and eat me, so that you must go by yourself. But
what is the meaning of this? Why do you draw
the hatchet from my side, and put it into my hand?
Why do you lay down your head, and stretch out
your neck? What would you have me do?
Frid. Kill me : I would rather die than be sent
away from you.
Saying these words he shed a flood of tears.
Robinson was melted with tenderness, and embra-
ced him. Be comforted, my dear Friday ; I love you
too well to wish a separation from you. These
tears of joy and affection which you see me shed,
are pledges of my sincerity.
To dissipate the sorrowful ideas that he had ex-
cited in Friday's mind, he spoke to him again of a
canoe, and asked him several questions upon that
subject. Being satisfied with his answers, he led
him to see the canoe that he had begun some years
ago. Friday, on examining it, laughed heartily to
find the work so little advanced for the time. Row
binson asked him what fault he found in the work.
Friday answered, that a tree like this could be hol.
lowed in a few days with fire, and that much better
than by any other means whatsoever. At these words
Robinson was transported with joy: he fancied the
canoe already finished; he fancied himself already
landed on the continent, and conversing with Eu-
ropeans; and he resolved that the work should be
begun the very next morning by break of day.
Geo. Ah! then, our amusement will soon be at
an end.
Mr. Tidl. How so?
Geo. When he has a boat, and comes home, papa
will have nothing inore to tell us about Robinson.

out

138
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Mr. Bill. And would you not give up that amuse-
ment for Robinson's sake? Besides, who knows
what may happen ? Whether he may not be obliged
to put off the working at the canoe, or his own de.
parture? The future is very uncertain ; and we
often see our best founded hopes disappointed, and
it is the part of wisdom to expect and be prepa.
red for these vicissitudes.
Robinson, who had experienced them several
times already, returned home, perfectly resigned to
whatever a good and wise Providence should order
with respect to the accomplishment of his wish,
being persuaded that his heavenly Father knew
Better thaan he what was for his real interest; and
such, I hope, would be our way of thinking in simi-
Iar circunstances.
TWENTIETH EVENING.
MR. BILL. My clear children, I mentioned to
you last night, that, in the affairs of life, the best
founded hopes frequently vanish and end in dis-
appointment. But I have something farther to
propose to you. It is an exercise of the greatest
utility, and, with your consent, I will mention it.
The Children. Oh, yes, papa! yes, papa!
Mr. Bill. If, then, you desire in the future part
of your lives to labour in strengthening your bodies,
and exalting the powers of your minds, that you
inay be capable of contributing to the happiness of
your fellow-creatures, and thereby enhance your
own, I offer to you, for that purpose, the following
plan.

TIE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE. 139
I will, on my side, read to you, for your instruc.
tion, the writings of the ancient philosophers.
These writings contain the precepts which such
philosophers gave to their scholars, and by the ob.
servance of which their scholars became great men.
Every week I will write down one of these precepts,
and show you how you may acquire the practice of
it. Yet, you must not expect that this can be done
without sometimes costing you a sacrifice ; you
must, at one time, resolve to deprive yourselves of
a favourite amusement; at another, to bear with
things very disagreeable. What say you, my dear
children, to this proposal?
The Children. We agree to it; we agree to it.
Mr. Bill. Very well, then we shall begin the
first convenient day. It is now time to return to
Robinson. What I hinted to you yesterday merely
as possible, did, however, happen in reality.
The Children. What was that, papa ?
Mr. Bill. I said, that, whatever reason Robinson
might have to hope for a probable and speedy de-
parture from his island, there might, nevertheless,
happen some unforeseen obstacle which would
cause him to remain on it longer. This obstacle
appeared the very next day.
On that day the rains began, and set in with
great violence. During this rainy season, which
generally lasted a month or two, it was impossible
to do any work in the open air. He had also ex-
perienced, that nothing was more prejudicial to the
health than to get wet during this season. What
was he to do now? He found it absolutely neces.
sary to have some employment without going out
of his cave.
What a happiness for Robinson, during these wet
days, to lave fire and light, besides the company of
a friend, with whom he might fill up the wearisome

140
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE
US
hours with agreeable employment! Formerly, he
used to pass these dull evenings in the dark ;
whereas, now, sitting with Friday and cheered with
the light of a lamp, he is not afraid of time hang-
ing heavy upon his hands.
He learned from Friday all the methods which
the savages have for procuring themselves any con-
veniency, and Robinson, in his turn, taught him a
thousand things of which savages have not the least
idea. They succeeded in making several small
pieces of work which would have been impossible
to either of them singly.
Of the bark of trees Friday could make mats of
a texture sufficiently fine and firm at the same time
to make a sort of stuff proper for clothing. Ro-
binson, having learned the manner of this work,
made, in conjunction with Friday, a stock sufficient
for clothing them both.
Friday had also the art of making cordage out
of the stringy covering of the cocoa-nut and the
bark of plants resembling flax ; and this cordage
was far superior to any that Robinson could make.
He had, also, a particular method of making nets
with thread.
During these sedentary employments, Robinson
took pains to clear up the darkness of his under-
standing. You will easily judge how great was
Friday's ignorance upon the article of religion, from
the following dialogue between Robinson and him.
Robinson. Tell me, Friday, do you know who
made the sea, the land, yourself, and all living
creatures ?
Friday, Oh, yes, very well. Toufan made every
thing,
Rob. Who is Toufian?
Frid. He that makes the thunder.
Rob. Well, then, who is he that makes the thun-
der?

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Frid. It is a very, very old man, that lived before
any thing else in the world, and he makes the
thunder. He is older than the sun, moon, or
stars ; and all the creatures in the world say O to
to him, (that is, according to Friday's meaning,
worship him.)
Rob. Where do your countrymen go when they
die?
Frid. They go to Toupan.
Rob. And where is Toupan ?
Frid. He lives upon the high mountains.
Rob. Has any man ever seen him upon these high
mountains ?
Frid. None but the Owokakeys (that is, the
priests are allowed to go up to him.
Rob. Do those enjoy any happiness who go to
him after they die?
Frid. Oh, certainly, if they have killed and eaten
a great many of their enemies.
Robinson from that moment laboured to give
his friend juster notions both of the Supreme Being
and of a future state. He taught him that God
alone was the great Creator of all things,
Friday heard the sublime and comforting doc-
trines with attention, and lodged them deeply in his
memory. As the zeal of the master to instruct
was equal to the scholar's desire to learn, the latter
was very soon convinced of the principal truths of
religion. From that moment Friday esteemed him-
self happy in having been transported from his own
country to this island ; nor did the reflection escape
him, that the intentions of providence towards him
were favourable to a great degree.
Ever afterwards Robinson accustomed himself to
pray in Friday's presence ; and it would have been
an affecting sight to see with what devotion the
poor Indian repeated the words of his master's
prayers.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
The rainy season passed away without appearing
heavy to them. The sky now cleared up, the stormy
clouds were dispersed ; Robinson and his com-
puutoin once more felt their spirits enlivened afresh :
they now, therefore, joyfully set about the import-
ant work which they had designed before the rains
came on.
Friday hollowed the trunk of the tree by means
of fire. This method was so expeditious, that Ro-
binson could not help blaming his own stupidity for
never having thought of it. But he satisfied him -
self by saying, “Yet, if I had thought of it, I could
not have made use of it, as I had no fire.”
The boat was entirely completed, with the as-
sistance of Friday, in two months. Nothing was
wanting now but a sail and oars.
Rich. Ay! how could he make a sail ? He should
have cloth for that.
Mr. Bill. He certainly did not know how to make
cloth; nor had he a loom ; but he could make mats
of the bark of trees, and this matting the savages
use for sails.
Robinson finished the oars, and Friday the sail.
But now, though the canoe was finished, it was still
to be launched.
Henry. What is that, papa ?
Mr. Bill. Were not you with your uncle once to
see a ship launched at Deptford ?
Henry. Oh! yes; I remember.
Mr. Bitl. Unfortunately, the place where they
had made the boat was more than half a mile from
the sea-side. Here they were at a full stop.
Edw. Why, Robinson need only have made a
couple of levers, like that with which he rolled two
great pieces of rock out of his cave when he was
all alone.
Mr. Bill. He had not forgot the use that might

16.star

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
be made of so simple an instrument; in fact, he
had recourse to it upon this occasion; but the me.
thod was so tedious, that Robinson expected to be
a month before he should convey the canoe to the
sea-side. Fortunately, he thought of another me
thod.
Robinson no sooner made trial of this method,
but he was highly pleased to see with what despatch
the boat could be moved along, and in two days
time it was launched in the sea. His joy was doubled
when he saw that it sailed with the greatest
steadiness.
It only remained now to make preparations for
their departure. But where were they to go?
Friday's wishes were to return to his native island.
Robinson, for his part, would have been glad to land
on any civilized continent. Friday's island was only
a few miles off; he however knew nothing of the
sea thereabouts, but barely to sail towards his own
island, and was quite unacquainted with the passage
to the continent, and Robinson knew it no better,
having never sailed upon these seas.
At length Robinson's uncertainty gave place
to a desire of seeking to land on some civilized
country. In spite of all Friday's objections it was
determined that they should depart the next morn-
ing, and set sail, with the first favourable wind,
for that quarter where Friday expected the nearest
part of the continent lay.
It is time for us now to make our preparations for

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
TWENTY-FIRST EVENING.
MR. BILL. Robinson and Friday have now put all
their provisions on board the canoe, and the wind is
favourable; so that, my dear children, you have
now to bid them farewell, perhaps, for ever.
The Children. Oh! how sorry we are that they
are going away!
Mr. Bill. Men cannot flatter themselves that
they shall always live with those who are most dear
to them. It is, therefore, wise to prepare one's
self for such partings, which are at times indispensa-
ble.
Robinson, on coming out of his cave for the last
time, indulged meditation, and suffered his compa-
nion to go on before him. He shed tears of joy,
and, lifting up his hands and eyes to Heaven, he
thus addressed the Almighty with the most fervent
devotion :
« Vouchsafe to accompany me, and grant me thy
invisible but effectual safeguard! Watch over my
immortal soul, and strengthen it in the trials to
which it may be exposed ! Preserve my heart
from weakness, impatience, and ingratitude to-
wards thee! Oh, heavenly and eternal object of my
soul's love, my Creator, my Preserver, my all, my
God!”
Here the power of utterance yielded in Robinson
to the force of his feelings. Encouraged, however,
at length, he cast his eyes once more upon the
country which he was going to leave, and which
seemed, on that account, to become more dear to
him. Like a man who is quitting his native land
without hopes of ever seeing it again, his eyes
wandered still with affection over every tree which
13

146
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
had once afforded him an agreeable shade, and over
every one of those works which owed their being to
the sweat of his brow. All these objects seemed
like so many friends from whom he was going to
be separated.
With his arms stretched out towards the
country, « Farewell,” cried he, “ ye witnesses of
my sufferings, for the last time farewell!” Lift-
ing his eyes to Heaven, he went on towards the
sea side. As he went along, he perceived his faith-
ful Poll, which, on being called, comes flying to
hin as swift as an arrow, and rests upon his shoulder.
Robinson now overtook Friday, and they both went
aboard.
It was the 30th of November, at eight o'clock
in the morning, the ninth year of Robinson's stay
upon this desert island, that they set sail, with clear
weather and a fresh and favourable breeze. They
had hardly got a few miles out to sea before they
net with a reef of rocks.
Harriet. Oh! dear, let us know first what a reef
of rocks is.
Mr. Bill. Seamen give this name to a number
of rocks joined together, and either entirely co-
vered with water, or, in some places, rising above
it. This chain of rocks reached from a promontory
of the island more than four leagues out into the
sea; they therefore tacked in order to get clear of
the reef.
Edw. But if the water covered this reef, how
could they know how far it reached into the sea ?
Mr. Bill. They could judge of that by the waves
which they saw break over it; for in places where
there are hidden rocks, the waves rise higher, and
appear whiter with foam. Scarce had they gained
the utmost point of the reef, when their canoe was
carried away with as much rapidity as if they went
before a strong gale of wind. They made haste to


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
furl their sail. But this was in vain ; for the canoe
was carried over the billows no less rapidly than
before; and from thence they concluded that they
were in the middle of a strong current, which forced
them along
It is very ciangerous for small boats to fall into
these currents, because they find it difficult to get
out of them again; so that they are frequently car.
ried out of their course.
Rich. Ah! poor Robinson, what is to become of
you now?
Harriet. Why did he not stay in his island ? I
thought something would happen to him.
Mr. Bill. In undertaking this voyage, he cannot
be accused of rashness. He was moved to it by
reasons of the greatest prudence.
They tried, in vain, to force themselves out of the
current by rowing : an irresistible power carried
them along; and they had now lost sight of the coast
of their island. In less than half an hour they
would lose sight of the tops of the highest hills
upon the island, and unhappily they had no compass
to direct their course; so that they could not re-
cover the island, if once they lost sight of it.
Friday, whose piety was not so firmly establish-
ed as that of his master, was in the height of
despair. Unable to work, and absolutely bereft of
all courage, he rests his oar, looks at his master,
and asks him whether they shall plunge themselves
into the sea, to prevent at once, by a speedy death,
the cruel terrors of that lingering one which seem-
ed inevitably to await them. Robinson mildly re.
proached him for not putting his trust in the wis-
dom of Providence, which disposes of every thing
for the best; and briefly reminded him of all that
he had already taught him upon this subject.
Friday was sensibly affected with the truth of
these observations, and blushed for his own weak-

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
149
ness. He immediately took up his oar again, and
they both continued to row. Robinson said, “We
are but doing our duty; for while we have a spark
of life remaining, we are bound to do every thing
in our power to save it. If we fail, we die with the
assurance that such is the will of the Supreme
Being; and his will, my dear friend," added he,
« is ever wise, even when we cannot interpret it.”
The rapidity of the current continued still the
same: they could now see no more of the island
than the tops of the hills.
But when all human assistance fails, then, my
dear children, comes in aid the powerful hand of
Him who governs all things. This appeared in
the present critical moment. Robinson had lost
all hope of avoiding a speedy death ; but, in a mo-
ment he observed that the water did not appear so
muddy as before; and he farther remarked that
the current parted into two unequal branches, the
largest of which ran violently towards the North,
while the other less rapid, turned short to the south ;
and in this latter the canoe happened to take its
course.
Transported with joy, he addresses himself to his
companion, “ Courage, Friday ! It is the will of
Heaven that we shall be preserved!” Reanimated
with the unexpected hope of escaping from death,
they exerted their last efforts to get out of the
current, and their labour was not ineffectual. Ro.
binson, who was accustomed to let nothing slip his
attention, infurled the sail, which helped, together
with their exertions in rowing, to carry them yery
soon out of the current into a smooth sea. Never-
theless, there remained much to be done. In fact,
they had been carried out to sea so far, that
they could barely perceive their island, like a very
small cloud, in the farthest extremity of the hori-
zon.

150 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Henry. Horizon? What is that?
Mr. Bill. When you are in an open country, does
not the sky seem to touch the ground which way
soever you turn ?
Henry. Yes, it does.
Mr. Bill. Well, then, the circle which thus
bounds our view on all sides is called the hori-
zon. You will soon learn more about this.
Our two sailors rowed with so much perseve-
rance, that they very soon began to see the moun-
tains again. " Come my friend,” said Robinson,
« come, Friday, we are near the end of our toil."
He had scarce finished these words before the
canoe received so violent a shock, that the two row-
ers were thrown from their seats, and the boat,
which now stuck fast, was soon covered with waves
that broke over it.
Mrs. Bill. Well, my dear children, supper is ready
in the next room. Nanny has been twice to tell
me so.
TWENTY-SECOND EVENING.
SEVERAL of the Children at once. Well, papa,
let us know quick what is become of poor Robin.
son.
Mr. Bill. Robipson made haste to feel all round
he canoe with his oar, and finding no more than about
two feet depth of water, and a tolerably hard bottom,
he jumped into the sea. Friday did the same, and
they both recovered their spirits, on finding that
the canoe had not struck upon a rock, but upon a
bank of sand. They united their strength to free
the boat from the sand, and happily got her afloat.

.
WWW
W
U
SH

152
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Harriet. But poor Robinson has wetted his feet.
Mr. Bill. My dear, when a man has strengthen-
ed his constitution by a laborious life, he does not
so easily catch cold.
Rich. We ourselves do not so easily catch cold as
formerly.
Mr. Bill. A proof that your manner of living has
already strengthened you a little.
After they had emptied the boat of the water
that was in it, they resolved to use only their oars
without a sail. They rowed, therefore, to clear the
sand bank, in hopes of soon coming to its end.
Robinson remarked that it reached to the very spot
where he was shipwrecked nine years before, and,
indeed this bank was really the same upon which
the ship had struck.
Henry. Struck, how?
Rich. Oh! you are always interrupting.
Mr. Bill. He does right in wishing to be inform-
ed. A ship strikes, Henry, when it comes full
against a sand bank, or a rock, from which it can."
not disengage itself.
Henry. Thank you, papa.
Mr. Bill. At length, as they were come into a
part of the sea that was open and navigable, they
rowed with all their strength to arrive at the island,
which they now saw pretty near them. They came
up to it just as the sun was setting, and landed,
quite spent with fatigue.
They had neither of them taken any food the
whole day; therefore they sat down upon the
beach, and ate heartily of the provisions that they
had put into the boat. When their meal was ended,
they drew up the boat into a creek. You know,
I suppose, what that is?
Rich. Oh, yes: it is a small opening somewhat
resembling the shape of a bay or a gulf.
Mr. Bill. Yes, but with this difference, that a

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
153
bay is much larger, and a gulf still more so.
They drew up their cance in a creek, and set out
for their habitation, carrying back every thing that
they had before put aboard the boat.
Edw. Come, the story is not quite finished yet.
Mr. Bill. Robinson and Friday are gone to bed.
We might very well do the same, but as it is not
late, I will tell you what happened the next day.
Robinson, at breakfast time, spoke to his compa.
lion thus; “Well, Friday, do you find yourself dis-
posed to make a second attempt like that which we
made yesterday?
Frid. Heaven forbid !
Rob. Then you will spend your days with me
here?
Frid. Ah! if my father was with us!
Rob. Then your father is still alive?
Here Friday shed a flood of tears. Nor could
Robinson contain his, when he thought of his pa-
rents. Lost in the tender recollection of former
scenes, they both maintained a long silence.
Rob. Be comforted, Friday ; your father is probably
still alive. We will go and bring him hither.
This was joyful news for Friday; he falls at
Robinson's feet, but, in the fulness of his heart, he
is not able to utter a word.
Mrs. Bill. Ah, my dear children, what an admi-
rable pattern is this of filial love in a savage, who
has received no instruction from his father; who
is indebted to him for nothing but life, and even
that a life which is really miserable
When the transports of Friday's joy were a lit-
tle calmed, Robinson asked him if he knew the
passage over to his father's island so well as to be
certain, that, if they undertook it, they should not
be exposed to dangers like those which they had
experienced the day before. Friday assured him
that he had sailed it several times with his country-

THE NEW ROBIN SON CRUSOE.
men, when they came to the island to feast after
their victories.
Rob. Then you were amongst them when they
killed men and ate them?
Frid. Certainly.
Rob. And you took your share with them too?
Frid. Alas! I knew not that there was any harm
in it.
Rob. On which side of the island did you gene-
rally land?
Frid. Always on the south side, as being nearest
to our island, and also because cocoa-nuts are to be
found there in plenty.
Robinson then repeated his promise to Friday
that he would shortly cross over with him to his
island, and endeavour to find his father He made
him sensible, however, that this was not to be done
immediately, as the present was precisely the season
for working in the garden. They, therefore, set
about this work without delay, in which each strove
to surpass the other in the art of digging.
Robinson was not content with providing mere-
ly for his wants; he thought of making some im.
provements about his habitation, and by degrees,
of ornamenting it. Such, my dear children, has
ever been the natural consequence of the progress of
the arts. While men were obliged to think of no-
thing but the means of providing for their subsist-
ence and security, they had not the least idea of
cultivating those arts which serye merely to adorn
the objects that surround them, or to procure
them pleasures more refined than those which they
enjoy in common with other animals : but no soon-
er were they assured of their subsistence and safe-
ty, than they sought to unite the agreeable with
the necessary, the beautiful with the useful. Hence
arose, and were gradually brought to perfection,
architecture, sculpture, painting, and all the other

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
155
arts known by the general denomination of the fine
- arts.
Robinson began by improving and ornamenting
his garden.
He and Friday planted potatoes and sowed maize,
and, as the soil had probably lain fallow since the
Creation of the world, whatever they sowed brought
them a plentiful crop.
At times they went a fishing with the nets which
Friday had made during the rainy season, and always
caught more of the finny tribe than they could con-
sume, but made a point of releasing those they
thought superfluous.
After fishing they generally bathed. Robinson
could not sufficiently admire Friday's cleverness in
swimming and diving. He could cast himself
headlong from the top of a rock into the sea, and
by the time that Robinson was become uneasy about
him, he would pop his head up all at once, and
throw himself into a thousand different positions,
On these occasions Robinson reflected with admi.
ration upon the surprising diversity of men's fa-
culties, capable of arriving at any perfection, if
rightly exercised from their infancy.
Whatever superiority Robinson might have over
i'riday with respect to understanding and industry,
the latter, in his turn, was possessed of much skill
and dexterity to which his master had hitherto been
a stranger, but which, however, were of infinite
Service to them. He had the art of making, out
of bones, shells, stones, &c. all sorts of tools,
which he used very dexterously in carving wood.
For instance, having found a long bone, he made a
chisel of it: of a branch of coral he made a rasp;
a knife he made out of a shell, and a file of a fish's
skin.
Friday also informed him of the use of the
chocolate puts, which having formerly found in one

156
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
of his excursions, he had brought home a small
stock of them for trial.
Robinson, who was fond of making experiments,
boiled them with milk. What an agreeable sur-
prise! The moment he tasted it he knew it to be
chocolate.
Henry. Ay!
Mr. Bill. Yes, like our chocolate in every re-
spect, but that he had no sugar with it.
From this time they began to undertake longer
and more frequent excursions all over the island,
particularly when they observed that the wind was
unfavourable for the savages to come over.
When their work in the garden was finished,
they fixed upon a day to go in quest of Friday's
father ; but the nearer the time approached, the
more Robinson's anxiety increased. “What if
these savages should pay no regard to any thing
that Friday could say ? In short, what if I should
fall a prey to their monstrous appetites ?" He
could not help communicating all his apprehensions
to his friend. Friday protested to him that he
knew his countrymen well enough to assure him
that they were incapable of using those ill who
were not their enemies. Robinson, therefore, de-
pended upon Friday's good faith, and resolved to
set sail the very next day.
With this intention they again floated their canoe.
The same evening they prepared provisions, intend-
ing to lay in a stock for at least eight days. Fri.
day showed upon this occasion that he was not ig-
norant in the art of cookery. As they had just
killed a young lama, he proposed to his master a
method of roasting it whole in less time than they
could on the spit, and he engaged that its flesh
should eat more tender and juicy when drest after
this manner. He went to work thus:
He dug a hole in the ground about two feet

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
357
deep; this he filled with several layers alternately
of dry wood and flat stones. Here he made the
fire, over which he held the lama, to singe it, or
burn its hair entirely off: he then scraped it with
a shell, and made it as clean as if it had been scald-
ed in boiling water. With the same shell he cut
it open, and then took out the bowels. In the mean
time the wood was burnt to charcoal, the hole was
completely heated, and the stones red hot. He
took out the wood and the stones as fast as possi-
ble, only leaving as many of the latter as were suffi-
cient to cover the bottom of the hole. On these
stones he spread a layer of the leaves of the co.
coanut-tree, and on these leaves placed the lama,
which he covered again with other leaves; and,
lastly, over these he laid what remained of the hot
stones. The whole was covered with earth.
When they took up the lama after it had lain
there some hours, Robinson found that the meat of
it was more tender, more juicy, and more savoury,
than if it had been roasted on the spit.
Rich. It is exactly the same way that the peo.
ple of Otaheité bake their dogs.'
Mr. Bill, Very true.
Geo. Their dogs! Do they cat their dogs ?
Rich. Certainly. We read of them last winter.
Captain Cook's people tasted some of the flesh of
their dogs drest in this manner, and found it ex-
cellent.
Harriet. Excellent indeed!
Mr. Bill. You know, I suppose, that these dogs
do not feed as ours; they do not eat flesh, but
fruits; so that the meat of them may taste quite
different from the flesh of our dogs.
Well, children, all the preparations for the voy.
age are made. Let our two voyagers rest for this
night, and to-morrow evening we shall see what
may have happened to them.
14

153
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
TWENTY-THIRD EVENING.
ROBINSON and Friday might have been asieep
about half an hour, when the former was suddenly
awakened by a violent storm. The roaring of the
wind was dreadful, and the earth shook with repeat-
ed claps of thunder. “Do you hear this?” said
Robinson to Friday, awaking him. “Heavens!”.
replied he, “what would have become of us if we
had been surprised at sea in such weather ?” Just
at that moment they heard the report of a gun at
a great distance.
Friday thought it was thunder; Robinson was
firmly persuaded that a gun had been fired, and
this belief filled him with joy.
He, therefore, made haste to kindle a fire upon
the top of the hillock, to signify to the people at
sea in distress that they would find a safe refuge
upon that island; for he had not the least doubt
that there was some ship in distress near at hand,
and that the report of the gun which he had heard
was a signal of their danger. But scarce had the
fire begun to blaze up before there came such a
shower of rain as put it out in a moment. Robin-
son and Friday were obliged to hasten to the cave,
for fear of being carried away by the water, which
ran in floods. Robinson thought he could distin-
guish some reports of cannon, yet he doubted
whether they might not be the bursting of thunder
at a distance. However, notwithstanding his doubts,
he indulged himself with the flattering thought that
there might be a ship near at hand, the captain of
which might take him and his faithful Friday on
board, and carry them to Europe.
It was day-break before the storm ceased. As

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
159
soon as it was clear, Robinson went to the sea side
to ascertain whether his conjectures were well or
ill founded. The wind had driven their boat out
to sea. It would have melted any one with com-
passion to be witness of Friday's excessive grief,
when he saw himself disappointed in the pleasing
hope of soon returning to his father. Suddenly
his grief bursts forth in a flood of tears, sobbing as
if his heart would break.
Robinson was touched with Friday's excess of
grief : “ Who knows,” said he, “ whether the loss
of our canoe may not be for our advantage ? Or
who can tell of what service this storm may be
in its consequences either to us or to others ?
“What service !” said Friday tartly ; « it has de-
prived us of our canoe, that is all.”
“ Then because neither you nor I, narrow-minded,
short-sighted beings as we are, can perceive any
other effect of the storm than the loss of our canoe,
do you suppose that God had no purpose in view
when he stirred up this tempest? How can thy
feeble understanding dare to limit the immense
designs of Omnipotence !"
Friday submitted to the decree of Providence.
In the mean time, Robinson did not cease to cast
his eyes round to every part of the ocean that was
open to his view; but in vain. He concluded,
therefore, that what he had supposed to be the re-
port of guns had certainly been thunder.
Nevertheless, his fancy still ran upon a vessel at
anchor near the island. Still vexed and uneasy,
he went to a very high hill, and climbing with all
speed up to the summit, he casts his eyes round the
sea-But heavens! what is his joy when he dis-
covers that he has not been mistaken !
The Children. Oh dear!
Mr. Bill. He sees a ship! He flies to his babi-
tation, snatches up his arms, and, unable to say any


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
161
more to Friday than these words, “There they
are! quick! quick !” he remounts the ladder of
ropes, and sets off again with the utmost precipi-
tation.
Friday supposed the savages to be at hand; ta-
king up his arms, therefore, he followed with all
speed.
Robinson expressed his joy in a thousand dif-
ferent ways.
He endeavoured to make the people of the ship
hear him, but to no purpose, though the wind blew
off the island towards them. He then begged his
friend to make a fire directly, which might be seen
by the people on board. This was quickly done ;
but his expectations were all in vain.
At last Friday offered to swim to the ship, and im-
mediately strips off his clothes of matting, cuts
a branch, and holding it between his teeth, springs
boldly into the waves.
Charlotte. But why the branch, papa ?
Mr. Bill. A green branch is, among the savages,
a sign of peace. He who approaches them with
a bough in his hand, has nothing to fear from them.
Friday arrived safe at the vessel, the size of which
astonished him; but finding nobody on board, he
returned. Robinson concluded that the ship was
fast upon a rock or sand bank, and that the crew
had taken to their boats for safety, but he could not
conceive what was become of them. If they had
Derished, either their bodies or their boats would,
in all probability, have been thrown upon some part
of the shore.
< But what are we to do?” said Robinson.
“Whether the crew have perished, or are only tossed
about by the winds, in either case we can do no-
thing better than unload the ship of whatever effects
we can move." But how are we to attempt this now
that we have no canoe ?"
Rich. I would have made a raft.
14*

162
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Mr. Bill. That was precisely the idea that struck
Robinson at last. "A raft,” said he to himself,
u will be soonest made.”
Henry. Now, what is a raft?
Rich. A raft is a nuinber of beams tied close to-
gether, so that one can walk upon them, and this
will carry you upon the water as well as a boat.
Mr. Bill. It was resolved that one of them should
go to the cave and bring back provisions for a day
as well as all the cordage and tools that he should
find. As Friday was the more active of the two,
he was charged with this business. At his return
they both set to work upon the raft, and continued
to do so without ceasing, till they found themselves
so overpowered with sleep, that they lay down
upon the grass, and gathered new strength in undis-
turbed repose.
TWENTY-FOURTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. Scarce had the ruddy morning ap-
peated when Robinson roused his companion. They
worked so incessantly that the raft was finished that
very evening.
They did not delay a moment in launching it,
that they might have the advantage of the ebb.
They push off, and in less than half an hour come
alongside of the ship.
What were Robinson's feelings when he ap-
proached this vessel! He would have glued his
lips to every part of it if possible. That it was
built, manned, and conveyed thither by Europeans,
were circumstances which could not fail to render
is dear to him, But, alas! these Europeans had


164
THEN
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Save as I
disappeared, and it only remained for him now to
save as much of the goods out of the ship as he
could for his own use.
Geo. But could he take possession of goods that
did not belong to him ?
Mr. Bill. What think you, Richard, could he
do so?
Rich. He might, to be sure, take them out of
the ship; but if the owners appeared, he was obli-
ged to restore them.
Mr. Bill. If he did not take out the goods, they
would be spoiled by degrees; he had, therefore,
some right to the use of them.
Shipwrecked goods are generally divided into
three parts; the first for the owners; the second is
given to those who have saved the goods; and
the last belongs to the sovereign of the country.
When Robinson was a little recovered from
the joy which he felt at the sight of a European
ship, his first wish was that it might not prove to
be damaged, but capable of being set afloat. He
sailed round the ship on his raft, and examined the
depth of water about it, but had the mortification
to be convinced that he must never expect to see it
afloat again.
The storm had lodged it between two rocks, where
it was jammed in so fast, that there was not the
least possiblity of moving it one way or the other.
Disappointed in all his hopes, Robinson hastened
aboard to examine the cargo, and see whether that
was damaged.
Robinson went from deck to deck, and from ca-
bin to cabin, and found everywhere a thousand
things, which, in Europe, one would scarce think
worth looking at, but which to him were of infinite
importance.
Friday was lost in amaze at the sight of so many
objects, all equally unknown to him, and the uses
of which he could not so much as guess.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
165
Robinson considered what he had best carry
ashore in this his first trip, and found some diffi-
culty in making his choice. At length, however,
his choice was fixed upon such objects as might
best serve his purpose.
He disdained to take many articles which in Eu-
Pope 'would have been eagerly seized the first of
all. A barrel of gold dust, and a casket of the
most valuable diamonds, he found amongst the
Captain's effects, but was in nowise tempted to
take them away, as they could not possibly be of any
service to him.
He had employed so much time in examining
the ship, that when all was done, he had only an
bour to spare before the tide would begin to flow
again. They were obliged to take the advantage of
it; for without the flow of the tide, they would
hardly be able to gain the shore. Robinson spent
this hour in dining after the European fashion.
He brought out, therefore, a piece of hung beef,
a few herrings, some biscuit, butter, cheese, and a
bottle of wine, and laid the whole upon a table in
the cabin. Friday and he sat down upon chairs. The
very circumstance of dining at a table, sitting upon
chairs, having plates, helping themselves with knives
and forks; in short, of making a meal with the advan-
tage of so many European conveniences, gave
Robinson a pleasure that it would be impossible to
express.
The tide now beginning to flow, they get upon
the raft, push off, and are carried gently towards the
Island. In a short time they come to shore, and
hasten to land the goods with which the raft was
loaded.
Friday was very curious to know the meaning
of all those things and their uses. To begin to
Satisfy his curiosity, Robinson retires behind a
Dush, and dresses himself in a shirt, stockings, and

166
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
shoes, together with an officer's uniform complete;
then, putting a laced hat upon his head, and a
sword by his side, he shows himself to Friday, who
starts back, doubting whether it were not some
being above the human species. Robinson could
not help laughing at his amazement; he held his
hand out to him in a friendly manner, assuring him
that he was still his friend Robinson. He gave him
a suit of sailor's cloaths, showed him the use of
each part, and desired him also to retire behind
the thicket and change his dress.
Friday-went accordingly; but, how long was he
dressing! and how many trials did he make! He
put on cach part of the dress wrong : for instance,
he put his two legs through the sleeves of the shirt,
ran his two arms into the breeches, covered his
head with the seat of them, and tried to button the
jacket behind. He at length, however, dressed
himself properly at all points.
· He jumped for joy when he saw how well he was
clothed. The shoes alone was disagreeable to him.
He begged leave, therefore, to put them off, and
Robinson gave him full permission to do so.
He also showed him the use of hatchets and
several other tools, with which he was quite de-
lighted. They began to make immediate use of
them, in cutting a mast for their raft, that, with the
help of a sail, they might be able to go to and from
the ship without being obliged to wait for the ebb
and flow of the tide.
Robinson loaded a musket. He proposed to have
the pleasure of surprising his friend with the as-
tonishing effects of gunpowder. An opportunity
soon offering, he says to Friday, “Do you see that
sea-gull ? He shall fall this moment." And so say-
ing, he fires, and the sea-gull falls.
Imagine, if you can, Friday's terror and surprise.
He fell down as if it were himself that had been

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
167
Imi Toutian fused cot upovorido nined to
shot. Immediately his old superstition revived
concerning Toupan, who produces the thunder.
Astonished and confused as he was, he took his
master for Toupan. He got upon his knees, with-
out being able to utter a single word.
Robinson kindly raised him, and explained to him
the nature and effects of gunpowder, showed him
the construction of the gun; and, loading it in his
presence, gave it to him, that he might fire it off.
But Friday was still in too great a fright, and beg-
ged Robinson to try the experiment in his stead.
He, therefore, set up a mark about a hundred yards
off, and fired, while Friday stood by his side.
What he was now witness to, and what he had
seen in the ship, inspired him with a profound
veneration for Europeans in general, and Robinson
In particular. Night coming on put an end to the
agreeable labours of this happy day.
TWENTY-FIFTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. I suppose it will be agreeable to
you, my dear children, if I begin directly upon our
friend Robinson's affairs.
He had not ever since his coming to the island
enjoyed a more agreeable night's rest than the
last; and never was man more touched with love
and gratitude towards his Supreme Benefactor.
How often did he offer up his thanks to the Hea-
venly Disposer of all things for the blessings that
he had vouchsafed him ! Nor was he content with
feeling these sentiments of gratitude himself; he
endeavoured also to communicate them to Friday,
With this view, he taught him a prayer of thanks-

168
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
giving, to the praise of the Universal Father of Na-
ture.
Robinson examined the cargo afresh, to choose
whatever he should think preferable in so great a
quantity of goods.
Amongst other things he resolved to carry away
one of the six small carriage guns that were in the
ship.
Rich. A gun! I think he might have carried
away something more useful.
Mr. Bill. Robinson thought this gun a very ne.
cessary article, were it only for his ease and secu.
rity.
Rich. How so?
Mr. Bill. The part of the shore, where he was
obliged for the present to lodge what goods he had
brought out of the ship, was open on every side,
and unfortunately, at no great distance from the
spot where the savages used to land.
You see, now, my dear Richard, how liable we are
to be mistaken, when we take upon us to give an
opinion concerning the behaviour of other persons,
Besides the piece of cannon, they placed also
upon the raft the following articles: 1st. three
small bags, one of rye, another of barley, and
the last of pease; 2d, a chest of nails and screws;
3d. a dozen of hatchets; 4th. a barrel of gunpow-
der, with balls and shot; 5th. a sail; 6th a grind.
stone.
Rich. Why that?
Mr. Bill. To sharpen knives and other tools.
Rich. Were there no stones upon the island ?
Mr. Bill. Yes, plenty; but none fit for sharpening
their instruments. Have not you observed, that
those stones which are used for that purpose are
of a particular sort, and much softer than most
others ?
Rich. Yes, I have.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
169
Mr. Bill. Well, Robinson had never yet found
upon his island any of that sort of stone; but a
grindstone is not only exceedingly useful, but in-
dispensably necessary to those who make use of
sharp iron tools. He preferred it, therefore, to the
gold dust and diamonds, which he had valued so little
before, and had left behind him in his first trip to
the shore.
Robinson examined the condition of the ship.
He found the leak was gaining ground, and fore-
saw, therefore, that the first gust of wind would
dash the ship to pieces; and concluded that he must
be expeditious if he wished to save much more
of the cargo.
In their way to the shore, Robinson blamed him-
self only for one thing. His way of thinking here
proves him to have been a perfect lover of justice.
Edw. For what did he blame himself, papa ?
Mr. Bill. For not carrying away the gold dust
and diamonds.
Edw. What would he have done with them?
Mr. Bill. He had no view of using these things
himself but he reasoned thus: “ It is not absolutely
impossible," said he “ that the captain of the vessel
may be still alive, and come some day or other to
examine whether he cannot save part of the cargo
Perhaps his fortune, and that of many other per-
sons, depends on this slight instance of attention
which you have neglected to pay them. Robinson !
Robinson !” cried he, highly dissatisfied with him-
self, “ how far art thou still from being as just as thou
oughtest to be !”
Robinson, therefore, returned to the ship, and
was no sooner aboard than he hastened to convey
upon the raft the barrel of gold dust and the casket
of jewels; and, having thus relieved his conscience
of a load which lay upon it, he thought he had now
a right to think of himself.
15

170
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
In this trip he carried away a variety of useful
articles.
Robinson spent the rest of the day in taking a
precaution which he thought indispensably necessa-
Ty. He trembled at the idea, that, were a heavy
shower to come on, he should be disabled from
using his gunpowder. To prevent such an accident
he resolved that very day to make a tent of a large
sail cloth which he had saved, and to lodge his trea-
sure under it, where it would be safely sheltered
from the rain.
As he was now provided with scissors and with
needle and thread, this work was soon finished, and
Friday was not long before he knew enough of it to
be able to assist him.
They finished the tent before sun-set, and Robin-
son had still time to show Friday the effect of a great
gun. He charged it with a ball, and pointed the
imuzzle towards the sea, that the ball might skim the
surface of the water, and Friday might sce distinct-
ly how far the gun would carry.
After nightfall, Robinson put a light in his lan-
tern to cast an eye over the papers that he had sa-
ved, in order to discover the ship's destination, and
to whom she belonged: but, unfortunately, all these
papers, as well as the books, were written in a
language that he did not understand. Here, there-
fore, he had fresh occasion to be sorry for having
neglected the study of foreign languages when he
night have learnt them.
The circumstances, however, which he observed,
gave him some information concerning the ship's
destination, and the object of her voyage. He
found, amongst others, some letters for persons
in Barbadoes, an island in the West Indies, where
there is a great traffic for slaves,
Henry. Traffic for slaves, papa ?
Mr. Bill. I will explain it to you.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
171
In Africa, which is the country of the negroes,
inen, in ignorance and stupidity, do not seem to
differ much from the brutes. Their chiefs or kings,
who are as savage as themselves, treat them accord.
ingly. If any Europeans arrive on their coast,
whole crowds of blacks are offered to them for sale
as we sell cattle here in a market. Even fathers
bring their children, and exchange them for trifles.
Thus the Europeans every year purchase a great
number of negroes, and carry them to the West
Indies, where they are forced to work at the hard-
est labour.
Rich. It is not well done to use human beings in
that manner.
Mr. Bill. Certainly it is very unjust; and we
have hopes that in time this iniquitous traffic of slaves
will be abolished.
Robinson found also, among the papers, an ac-
count from which he gathered that the ship was
bound for Barbadoes, and had a hundred slaves
aboard. Having communicated this circumstance
to Friday, he added, “Who knows if these poor
wretches are not indebted for their liberty to the
storm which occasioned the ship to strike?" Friday
agreed that this conjecture was not wholly im-
probable. «Well then, my friend," replied Robin-
son, with some warmth," could you now repeat the
question that you lately asked me?”
Frid. What question !
Rob. You asked me, of what use could the storm
be that carried away our canoe?
Friday looked down, quite ashamed and con-
founded.
“Oh! Friday,” said Jobinson, « acknowledge,
here, the hand of an all-powerful and all-wise God.
Cast your eyes on all these different articles;
they are such as render life commodious and hap-

asses

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE. 173
py. Whence should we have had them were it not
for the storm ?
Robinson took as much care of the papers which
he had been looking over, as of the diamonds and
gold dust, that, if ever he returned to Europe, he
might, by means of them, discover the persons to
whom he should restore the treasure that he had
saved out of the ship.
For six days successively they made two or three
trips a day to the wreck, and brought to land
every thing that they could possibly convey away.
After they had made eighteen trips, they observ-
ed, as they were on board the nineteenth time,
that a storm was rising very fast. They were
scarce half way towards the shore, when a violent
gale of wind, accompanied with thunder, light-
ning, and rain, swelled and agitated the sea in such
a manner, that the waves, rolling over the raft,
carried off all the goods that were upon it.
At length, the slightness of the raft began to give
way to the fury of the waves. The cordage and
osier bindings, which held the pieces of it together,
being loosened, all the beams of which it consisted
Harriet. Heavens! what will become of poor
Robinson ?
The Children. Softly! have patience !
Mr. Bill. Friday sought to save himself by swim-
ming, and Robinson seized a piece of wood, with
which he was sometimes plunged into the deep,
and sometimes rode upon the ridge of the waves.
His strength now forsook him, and he was almost
insensible ; he utters a weak cry, and sinks down,
oppressed by a huge wave, which carries away
the beam that supported him..
Happily his faithful Friday was not far from
him, and he exerted himself with so much success,
15*

174
THE 1
NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE
that, in a few minutes, he reached the shore with
his master's body.
Friday, who was distracted at his master's pre-
sent condition, carried him up on the beach, hung
over him, rubbed him, and joined his lips to his
mouth to communicate breath to him if possible.
At length Robinson recovered the use of his fa-
culties.
Opening his eyes, he asked, in a weak and trem-
bling voice, “Where am I?” “ In my arms, my
dear master!" answered Friday, with tears in his
eyes. Robinson thanked Friday a thousand times,
and called him his saviour.
My dear children, we cannot finish the account of
that day's adventures with any circumstance more
interesting than this.
TWENTY-SIXTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. Well, my dear children, our friend
Robinson is restored to life once more. The storm
continued the whole night, and he waited, with
impatience, until it was broad daylight, to see what
was become of the ship.
The sun was now above the horizon, and Ro-
binson saw, to his grief, that the ship had disap-
peared.
Robinson and Friday were particularly careful to
gather all the remains of the wreck together on
one spot of the beach. When they had finished
every thing that concerned the wreck, they formed
a regular plan of the employments which were to
take place next.
The object was, at present, to convey all these
goods to their dwelling place ; but they thought it

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
175
dangerous, while they carried one parcel, to be at
so great a distance from the rest. Robinson settled
it, therefore, that they should carry the goods and
stand guard alternately. He loaded the carriage
guns, and pointed them towards the sea. They
kindled a fire, and placed a match beside the guns,
that they might be ready to fire whenever the case
required it.
Robinson, in order to spare his best clothes, had
drest himself like a sailor, and had a cutlass by
his side, and two loaded pistols in his girdle. The
water spaniel, which had never quitted him, was
by no means a useless companion on this journey.
Robinson harnessed him to the wheel-barrow, and
the dog was of considerable service to him in con-
veying the burden forward. He carried also a
parcel in his mouth, which he had been taught to
do by those to whom he formerly belonged.
Robinson brought all his lamas, ready harnessed
for carrying burdens, in order to use them for that
purpose.
So many articles could not all be stowed in Ro-
binson's cellar. He hastened, therefore, to pitch
another large tent in the enclosed ground before
his cave. This was meant as a store tent for the
present, until other means should be contrived for
securing the things.
What agreeable employments have Robinson and
Friday now before them! They scarce know where
to begin. The most important of all was the build-
ing of a storehouse, to shelter the goods more se-
curely than they were under the tent. Here it was
necessary to do the business of a house-carpenter,
to which they had neither of them served an ap-
prenticeship.
But what could be difficult to the industrious and
persevering Robinson, now that he was provided
with all sorts of tools !
The little building, when finished, was not much


THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
177
unlike one of our country cottages. Robinson had
taken care to bring away with him the ship's cabin
windows; they served to give light to the building,
without the inconvenience of holes that would let
in the wind.
When all was put under cover and in proper
order, Robinson thought of contriving for himself a
convenient way of entering his fortress without
weakening it. They first made a gate and a draw-
bridge; and, afterwards, they made an opening in
the terrace and palisade sufficient for the width of
the gate ; then they laid down the bridge in such a
manner, that, when raised, it might lie against the
gate, and cover it. Lastly, they loaded the guns,
and placed them upon the terrace, in such positions,
that two of them should defend the right flank, two
the left, and two the front of their fortification,
When harvest time was come, Robinson made
use of an old hanger, instead of a sickle, to cut
down his maize, and his wooden spade served him
for digging his potatoes.
Henry. Oh! I wish I had been there ! How I
would have worked !
Edw. Nay, you have no occasion to go so far as
Robinson Crusoe's island for work. Papa will find
you plenty, if you are fond of it. There is wood to
be sawed, to be split, and to be carried ; there are
plats in the garden to be dug up ; there is weeding
and watering of the flowers; and, in short, you will
always find enough to do.
Mr. Bill. Why do I set you to work at these
different employments ?
Rich. To accustom us never to be idle, to strength-
en our bodies, and preserve us in good health.
Geo. For my part, I like it, and you shall al-
ways find me, papa, as diligent and industrious as
Robinson himself.
* Mr. Bill. Well, we shall see that. We are very
Sensible that Robinson was the better for it, and

178
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
every one of us also experiences more and more
the happy effects of an active way of life.
When the harvest was gathered, Robinson made
two flails. Friday soon learned the use of them,
and in one day they thrashed all their maize.
He made, by way of trial, two sorts of bread, one of
rye flour, and the other of maize. The rye bread
was by far the better tasted of the two. He, there-
fore, proposed to sew the greatest part of his land
with rye, that he might always have a stock of grain
sufficient to supply them with bread.
There was one article that would have been ex-
ceedingly useful to them, and that was an iron spade.
It is true, Friday had made one of hard wood, but
still they found room to wish for a better. Robin-
son, therefore, who determined, for the future, to
make agriculture his principal employment, con-
ceived the design of fixing up a forge to make
spades himself, and possibly other instruments be-
sides.
This design was not so extravagant as perhaps
you may think it ; for every thing necessary for a
forge was to be found in his storehouse. There
was a small anvil, several pair of pincers, a pair of
bellows, and such a stock of iron as would probably
be sufficient to keep him in work all his life-time.
This plan was, therefore, immediately put in execu-
tion.
Part of this season, therefore, they spent in work-
ing smith's work; and when the spades were finish-
ed, Robinson had a mind to try his abilities at ma-
king a plough; and in this also he perfectly suc-
ceeded.
This plough was very different from ours. It
consisted of a single branch of a tree; one end of
which 'rested on the ground, and was furnished with
a sock, and a handle, by means of which the person
who ploughed might guide it at pleasure. In a

THE NEW KOBINSON CRUSOE.
179
word, this plough was exactly like that in use
amongst the ancient Greeks, at their first under-
taking the practice of agriculture. I can give you
a sketch of it here.
Henry. Really, it is a very curious plough.
Geo. Had it no wheels ?
Mr. Bill. No. All instruments were at first
as simple in their make as this plough. By
degrees men made additions for greater conve-
nience: so by altering and improving they increased
the utility and commodiousness of the tools neces-
sary for their different labours.
Robinson had every reason to be proud of this
invention, for he had never seen a plan of it. By
all that we can learn from history, many ages of the
world elapsed before men arrived at the invention
even of so simple a machine as this piough ; and the
inventors of it were looked upon by posterity as men
of such exalted wisdom, that, after their death, they
were paid divine honours. Richard, you remember
the name of him to whom the Egyptians attribute
the invention of the plough.
Rich. Yes; it was Osiris, whom, for that reason,
they afterwards worshipped as a god.
Edw. Could not Robinson make the lamas draw
the plough?
Mr. Bill. At first he doubted whether they were
fit for this work; however, he determined to make
a trial of them, and the success of it exceeded his
hopes.

180 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
To sow their field according to all the rules of art,
there wanted but one instrument.
Henry. I can guess what that was.
Mr. Bill. What do you think?
Henry. A harrow.
Mr. Bill. You are right.
In the first place, Robinson made as many iron
teeth as he thought would be necessary for the
harrow. After some unsuccessful attempts, he, at
length, succeeded in making a wooden frame in
which these iron teeth were to be fixed. Lastly,
he made as many holes in the frame as it was to
contain teeth, and when he had driven them in, and
clinched them, the harrow was finished.
The rainy season being over, he sowed some rye,
barley, and pease ; and, at the end of five months,
he had the satisfaction to gather a crop more than
sufficient to last them six months. He resolved,
therefore, to have a barn, which might always con-
tain a sufficient stock, in case a crop should happen
to fail.
With this intention they unroofed the storehouse,
in order to add another story to it, which might
serve as a granary, and the work was soon happily
completed.
During these transactions, the goat yeaned two
young ones. The spaniel served as a guard by
night, and Poll, the parrot, amused them at work.
On the other hand, the lamas were become more
valuable than ever; as, besides affording milk, but-
ter and cheese, they assisted in tilling the ground.
In order, therefore, to be perfectly happy, Robinson
wanted nothing now but-guess.
Rich. To be with his father and mother
Mr. Bill. And to have some more companions.
Being only two upon the island, they must expect,
sooner or later, one of them to die before the other.
Yet Robinson looked upon it as a blamable weak-
ness to make one's life miserable by the dread of
To

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
181
evils that are possible, but still concealed in futuri.
ty. “The same power,” thought he, “who has hi.
therto provided for me in all things, will still con-
tinue to operate in my favour.” Thus his life passed
in tranquillity and content. He enjoyed inwardly
peace of mind; and, without, every thing promised
him the most perfect security. Happy state! May
God grant you all to enjoy the same!
“ Amen," said Mrs. Billingsley; and the company
separated.
TWENTY-SEVENTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. Well, my dear children, I have a
great number of things to relate to you this eve-
ning. Prepare yourselves for a fresh scene of hor-
ror, the event of which cannot be foreseen.
Robinson and Friday attempted, one after another,
many different arts, and imitated most sorts of
tradesmen; they imitated them, I say, with so much
success, that they were soon able to make up a
hundred things, for which we indolent Europeans
require as many different workmen. Their strength
increased in proportion as they exerted it, and their
minds, being in a state of constant activity, and al-
ways in search of some useful object, were impro-
ved every day more and more. May not this be
regarded as a proof that we were created for the
same activity, since health, virtue, and happiness
are the necessary consequences of it?
At present the most indispensable parts of the
business were completed, and Robinson was the
first to propose the building of another boat, to go
and seek Friday's father. The work was begun the
16

182
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
very next day, and, with the help of good hatchets,
was finished much better and much sooner than the
first time.
One morning that Robinson was engaged in the
ordinary cares of his hábitation, he sent Friday to
the sea-side for some turtle, which was now be-
come a rarity to them. After a short absence he
came back running at full speed. Out of breath
with running and with fright together, he could but
just stammer out these words, “Here they are !
here they are !"
Robinson, in a fright, asked him hastily whom he
meant. “Oh! master! master!” answered Friday,
six canoes !”
Robinson ran hastily up to the top of the hillock,
and saw that Friday had counted right. He perceiv-
ed six canoes full of savages, just ready to land.
Coming down immediately he bade Friday be of
good courage, and asked him whether, if they
should come to an engagement with the enemy, he
would stand by him faithfully.
“ Yes," answered he, "to the last drop of my
blood;" for, having had time to recover himself, he
feit his courage mount by degrees to its usual
pitch. “Well,” said Robinson, let us endeavour
to prevent these monsters from executing their hor-
rible designs.”
With these words he wheeled down one of the car-
riage guns, took six muskets, two brace of pistols,
and two hangers. Each of them put a brace of
pistols in his girdle, a hanger by his side, and three
muskets on his shoulder, and when they had taken
a sufficient quantity of powder and ball, they har-
nessed themselves to the gun, and with a firm
countenance took the field.
Having passed the drawbridge, they halted. Fri-
day went back into the fort to raise the bridge and
shut the gate, and then, by means of the ladder of


184
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ropes, which always hung to the rock, he came out
again, and joined his general.
Here Robinson explained to Friday the plan that
he had formed. “We will go round the hillock,"
said he, “and when within reach of them, we will
fire the great gun, and the ball passing over their
heads, no doubt, will terrify the barbarians, make
them abandon their prey and take to flight in their
canoes.”
“Thus,” continued Robinson, “ we shall have the
satisfaction of saying the unfortunate wretches
whom they intend to devour, without shedding a
drop of blood. But if they should not take to flight,
then, my dear Friday, we must show that we are
men, by bravely facing the danger. He, from whom
nothing is hid, sees what induces us to endanger
our lives; he will preserve them if it be for our
advantage : therefore, his will be done."
Robinson desired Friday to steal with all possible
circumspection behind a large tree which he showed
him, and inform him whether he could discover the
enemy from that spot. He brought back word that
they were easily to be seen sitting round a large
fire, and picking the bones of one prisoner whom
they had already despatched; that, not far from them,
he saw another lying on the ground, and tied hand
and foot, who seemed to be a white man, and had
the appearance of a beard; and that, in all proba-
bility, he was going soon to share the same fate.
Robinson was startled when he heard mention of
a white man. Having a prospect glass about him
which he had found aboard the ship, he went to the
tree himself, and from thence could discover about
fifty savages sitting round a fire, and could clearly
distinguish the prisoner to be a European
He could scarcely contain himself; his heart
throbbed, his blood boiled. If he were to fall upon
these barbarians at once, it would be the way to

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
185
shed much blood. But, as the blind instinct of
passion should never get the better of reason, he
restrains his transports in order to avoid that un-
pleasing necessity.
As there was a spot farther on equally sheltered
with thickets, he went behind a bush pretty near
the savages, and points his cannon in such a man-
ner that the ball would pass over their heads.
Then he told Friday, in a low voice, to imitate ex-
actly what he should see him do.
He lays down two of his muskets on the ground,
and holds the third in his hand; Friday does the
sarne: he then applies a lighted match to the touch-
hole of the cannon and fires it off.
* At the noise of the report, the savages fell back-
wards on the grass, as if they had been all shot at
once. Robinson and Friday, on their side, prepared
for engaging, if that should happen to be necessary.
In less than a minute the savages rise off the
ground, recovering from their astonishment; the
most fearful run to their canoes, but the boldest
take up their arms.
They had been frightened merely by the noise
of the cannon ; unfortunately, they did not perceive
the fire, nor hear the whistling of the ball. The
fright was, therefore, not near so great as had been
expected. After looking round on every side with-
out discovering any thing that could terrify them
again, they all set up a dreadful yell, and began
their war dance, shaking their weapons with furious
looks and gestures.
Robinson observing that, when the dance was
ended, the savages not only took their places again,
but sent two of their number to seize the unfor-
tunate European, he could not contain himself any
longer. He looks at Friday, and says to him,
“ You take the right, I the left, and Heaven be our
16*

186
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
defence !" So saying, he presents and fires ; Friday
does the same.
The man took inuch better aim than the master;
for on the enemy's left there fell five, and on the
right only three : of these eight, three were killed,
the rest wounded. The consternation with which
those who were not hurt took to flight, cannot be
described. Robinson was going to sally out from
behind the bushes, in order to deliver the unfor-
tunate European, who lay bound hand and foot; but
he saw, with astonishment, a party of the runaways
rally all of a sudden, and stand upon their defence.
He made haste to take up a second musket, and
Friday doing the same, they both fired at once.
At this discharge there fell only two of the ene-
my: but several of them, being wounded, began to
run away, howling dreadfully; presently, three of
them fell down, but still with some remains of life.
Robinson said to Friday in a loud voice, “Now
let us show ourselves;” at the same instant they
both start from their concealment, and appear be-
fore the savages. Robinson flies to the unfortunate
prisoner, to show him that relief was at hand; but
perceives that some of the savages, who before
were running away, now rallied to prepare for
combat. He noticed this to Friday, who fired,
and saw one of the Indians fall.
In the mean time Robinson cut the bulrushes
with which the prisoner's hands and feet were tied,
and asking him in English and Latin who he was,
the man answered in Latin, Christianus, Hispanus ;
that is, a Christian and a Spaniard. His excessive
weakness hindered him from saying any more.
Fortunately Robinson had taken care to provide a
bottle of wine, in case of being wounded. He gave
the Spaniard a little, which revived him exceedingly.
Robinson then furnished him with a hanger and a

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
187
pistol, and, mean time, Friday was ordered to bring
all the muskets that they might be loaded afresh.
The moment the Spaniard was armed with a
hanger and a pistol, he fell furiously upon his ene-
mies, and despatched two of them. Friday advan-
ced to support him, while Robinson was hastening
to load the other five. The two champions found
some resistance at first, and were soon separated ;
for the Spaniard came to close engagement with a
very stout Indian, and Friday pursued, sword in
hand, a whole party of runaways, some of whom
fell beneath his arm, others jumped into the sea to
swim to their canoes, and the rest fled.
But the Spaniard was now hard put to it. He
had, it is true, at first, notwithstanding his weak-
ness, attacked the Indian, and given him two
wounds in the head; but this so enraged the sayage
that with his heavy stone falchion he was near cut-
ting the Spaniard down. Robinson, perceiving the
Spaniard's danger, fired at the savage and killed
him on the spot.
Scarce was the Spaniard raised from the ground
before he seized a loaded musket, and went with
Friday in pursuit of the savages. Robinson thought
it best to remain on the field of battle, and observe
the motions of those who had escaped to their ca-
noes. His two friends were both about to enter one
of the canoes which the savages had left, and to
pursue those who were rowing off to sea; but Ro-
binson stopped them. “My friends," said he, «it
is enough; we have, perhaps, shed more blood than
we ought.”
Harriet. That was well done of Robinson, to spare
the remainder of the savages.
Mr. Bill. It was certainly acting with prudence
and humanity. It would have been too cruel to
kill, without necessity, these unfortunate wretches,
who embraced that deplorable error, which taught

188
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
them that to kill and eat a great number of their
enemies was a very meritorous action.''
Edw. Yet, I think, they ought to have known
that it was not right to do so.
Mr. Bill. My dear friend, how could they have
known it?
Edw. Hey-day! Why any little child knows that
it is not right to kill a man and then eat hini.
Mr. Bill. But how does the little child know this?
Is it not by being early so instructed ?
Edw. Yes, certainly.
Mr. Bill. And if he had never been instructed on
the subject; if his father, his mother, and all those
whom he ought to love and respect, had always
told him that it is a very laudable action to kili
one's enemy, and eat his body?
Edw. Nay, why--to be sure--then---
Mr. Bill. Why, then, a child would never sus-
pect the contrary. He would rather partake, as
soon as he was of age, in the killing and the feasting.
This was the case with those poor savages. Let
us thank God that we were not born amongst them,
but had civilized parents, who early instructed us
in the difference between good and evil.
Our hero shed tears when he traversed the field
of battle to assist those who were still alive. It
was all over with the greatest part of them, and
the rest expired in his arms while he poured wine
upon their wounds, and endeavoured to recover
them.
Harriet. But how came this Spaniard amongst
the savages, papa ?
Mr. Bill. That is more than Robinson himself
has yet had time to be informed of; therefore, let
us restrain our curiosity until to-morrow.
The Children. Oh! then we must stop here,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
189
TWENTY-EIGHTH EVENING.
HARRIET. Well, papa, now for the Spaniard
what brought him amongst the savages?
Mr. Bill. Have a little patience and you shall hear.
Robinson, having a mind to examine one of the two
canoes which the savages had left behind them,
went towards it, and found in it another unfortunate
creature, tied hand and foot as the Spaniard had
been, and looking more dead than alive.
As he was an Indian, Robinson called Friday to
speak to him in his native tongue. Scarce had he
cast eyes on the prisoner, when Friday, all of a sud-
den, like a man beside himself, embraces him, locks
him in his arms, cries, laughs, jumps, dances,
roars, clasps his hands, strikes himself on the face
and breast, and, in short, acts like one that is deli-
rious. It was some time before Robinson could draw
from him this short answer, “ It is my father !"
It would be difficult to describe all the marks of
filial love and affection which this excellent young
man showed upon this occasion. Twenty times he
jumped out of the canoe a pon land, and from the land
into the canoe again. Sometimes he opened his jacket,
and pressed his father's head to his bosom to warm
it; at others, he embraced him again, and covered
him with kisses. Robinson, who had still some wine
in 'his bottle, gave it to him to wash his father's
limbs.
To refresh the old man, Robinson gave Friday
his breakfast, which he had not touched, and Friday
gave it to his father. Scarce had he received it
when his son started out of the canoe in a hurry, and
went off so quick, that before Robinson had time to

INTE
UDENDID
TIR
H
LUTIR
LID

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
say where are you going, Friday was already out of
sight.
He soon appeared again, but did not come back
with quite such expedition. When he was pretty
near, they could see that he had a pitcher of water
in one hand, and some victuals in the other.
Robinson then turned towards the Spaniard, who,
exhausted with fatigue, was lying stretched upon
the grass. He strove to rise, but was not able.
Friday was ordered to sit down beside him, to bathe
his arms and legs with wine, and to take the same
care of him as he had of his father.
It was truly moving to behold this affectionate
son, who, while he attended the Spaniard, turned
his head every moment towards his father to see
how he was. Robinson now had a mind to try
whether he could not, with Friday's assistance, con-
vey the Spaniard to the canoe ; but Friday, who was
young and strong, carried him with ease upon his
shoulders. When they had placed in the other ca-
noe, not only the cannon and the muskets, but also
all the arms of the conquered Indians, Friday
quickly entered the first, and he made such speed,
by dint of rowing, that Robinson, who ran on foot
along the sea-side, could by no means equal the
swiftness of the canoe.
They were now opposite their dwelling-place.
Robinson hastened thither for some planiks and
poles, which he put together in the form of a litter,
to convey the disabled men to his habitation with
more ease. He and Friday carried them up, one
after the other. What a treasure was here for Ro-
binson, who longed for nothing so much as the
happiness of enlarging his company! As the two
invalids seemed to have occasion for nothing so
much as rest, Friday made them up a bed, on which,
when ready, they delayed not to repose them-
selves.

192
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
The two hosts then prepared a good supper.
Friday was ordered to go to the park and bring
home a young lama.
He could not help smiling frequently at the
thought that he should now resemble a king still
more than ever. One circumstance was remarka-
ble, that he counted in his dominions as many dif-
ferent sects of religion as he had subjects. Friday
had adopted his master's religion which was the
Protestant ; the Spaniard was a Roman Catholic,
and Friday's father was an idolater.
« What is to be done in this matter?” said Ro-
binson to himself: “ have I not a right to oblige them
all to embrace that belief which I think best?”
What think ye, my dear children? Ought he to
force his subjects to receive his particular religion,
or ought he not?
The Children. He should not constrain them in
any respect.
Mr. Bill. Why not?
Rich. Because a man's belief or way of thinking
is independent of all the world, provided he be-
haves himself inoffensively in other respects.
Mr. Bill. In fine, my dear children, it belongs to
God alone to be the infallible judge of our belief:
he alone can decide on the truth or falsehood of
our opinions; none but he can know perfectly
whether our search after the truth has been earnest
and sincere, or slight and negligent; nor is there
any but he who can judge how far our errors are
to be imputed to us.
Robinson saw this matter nearly in the same
light. «Far from me,” said he, “be the indiscreet
zeal which endeavours to force men into its belief!
Far from me be the blind frenzy of persecuting and
torturing fellow-creatures, merely because they
have the misfortune to be deceived, or the virtue to
refuse professing publicly that of which they are

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
193
nyot convinced inwardly. In my island, at least,
uch injustice shall never find a place.
He, therefore, resolved, that all, without distinc-
ion, should enjoy the free exercise of their religion,
if it should so happen that they could not agree
amongst themselves upon one single form of reli-
gious worship.
Friday being now returned, they forthwith pro-
ceeded to get ready the supper. Let us cele-
brate this day,” said Robinson, “ as a double festi-
val; on the one hand, we have rescued two fellow
creatures from the voracity of those monsters in
human shape ; on the other hand, you have found
your father.”
The two guests now awoke, and found themselves.
able, with the assistance of Robinson and Friday, to
rise and sit at table. The old Indian seemed as
much struck and astonished at every thing that he
beheld as his son had formerly been on his first
seeing the effects of European industry.
Friday acted as interpreter in the conversation
that his master had with the old man and the Spa-
niard.
Geo. Did Friday understand Spanish.
Mr. Bill. No; but the Spaniard, who had been
six months amongst the savages, could speak their
language. The following is the substance of his
account.
« Our ship was bound to the coast of Africa for
slaves, where we had taken a hundred on board, and
were carrying them to Barbadoes to sell them
twenty of them died on account of our stowing
them too close one upon another. A violent gale
of wind drove us from our course, and carried
us towards the Coast of Brasil. Our ship sprung
a leak, so that we durst not trust ourselves out to
sea again, but coasted along the main land. Sudden-
ly, and in the night, we struck upon some rocks not

194
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
far from an island. We set the blacks free, at
they might assist us in pumping, but the moment
they saw themselves at liberty, they, with oce ac-
cord, seized our boats, being determined to escaped
from their masters.
“What could we do? It was impossible for us
to have recourse to force; we were but fifteen
against fourscore, and, besides, the greatest part of
them were armed. We endeavoured, by our sup-
plications, to prevail on those who had lately been
our slaves, either to remain with us or take us with
them. Though they had received the most rigor-
ous treatment from us, yet they were moved with
compassion, and suffered us to get into the boats,
on condition that we gave up our arms, and the
boats were so overloaded that we expected to sink
every moment. I
“However, we did every thing in our power to
reach the island, but suddenly the wind changed,
and carried us out to sea in spite of the laborious
exertions of the rowers. Our destruction now ap-
pcared no longer a matter of doubt; nevertheless
we were carried to an island perfectly unknown to
us, where the inhabitants, simple and humane, re-
ceived us with the most hospitable benevolence.
“We have lived with them ever since, in the
best manner we could, but still very indifferently.
These poor savages have nothing themselves to
subsist on but fishing, and a few fruits which the
island produces spontaneously.
“Some days ago, this island was invaded by a na-
tion of neighbouring Indians. Every one took up
arms, and we should have thought ourselves want-
ing in the most essential duty of society if we had
not assisted people from whom we had received
such friendly entertainment. I fought by the side of
this brave old man, and had the misfortune to be
made prisoner along with him.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
195
"In this dreadful captivity we passed two days
and nights, bound hand and foot, without receiving
any nourishment. They now and then threw us
pieces of stinking fish.
“This morning, at break of day, we were drag-
ged to the canoes in order to be conveyed to the
place where these barbarians were accustomed to
devour their victims. Providence brought you to
our assistance; generous men! you delivered us ;
so that we have received more at your hands than
ever we shall be able to repay you."
Here the Spaniard was silent; being penetrated
with gratitude, he shed abundance of tears.
The Spaniard, on being asked who owned the
ship's cargo, answered, that the vessel had been
fitted out by two merchants of Cadiz.
Upon this, Robinson took the Spaniard by the
hand, led him to his cellar, then to the storehouse,
and showed him the most valuable effects of the
wreck safely stowed in both places.
'Robinson inquired also in respect to the owner
of the diamonds and the officer's dress. He was
told that they were both part of the effects of an
English officer, who, having resided many years in
the East Indies, was returning to England, but, fall-
ing sick on his way home, he desired to be set
ashore on the coast of Africa, where he died, and
his effects were put on board the Spanish ship to
be conveyed to Barbadoes, whence they were after-
wards to be sent to England.
From that moment Robinson looked upon the
gold dust, chandishie met
gold dust, the diarnonds, and the papers, as a sacred
deposit entrusted to his care.
Night approaching, all parties found themselves
so exhausted by the fatigues and dangers of the
day, that each one had occasion to retire earlier than
usual to seek refreshment in sleep. They did,
therefore, what we shall also do as soon as we have

196
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
returned thanks to God for having this day permit-
ted us to enjoy uninterrupted happiness and tran-
quillity.
TWENTY-NINTH EVENING.
MR. BILL. The next morning Robinson assem-
bled all the strength of his empire, and with their
assistance cut down wood, with which they made a
pile, and burnt the dead bodies of the Indians.
Rich. That was the custom of the Romans.
Mr. Bill. And many other nations besides. Ro-
binson did not choose to imitate the imprudence of
his countrymen, who, at that time, buried their dead
in the midst of towns, and even within their
churches, where, consequently, the living must
breathe an air infected by the disorders of the dead.
Harriet. Hey! why they do so still, papa.
Mr. Bill. Yes, unfortunately, they do so. Let
this example make you sensible how difficult it is
for men to abolish ancient customs, though univer-
sally acknowledged to be pernicious.
Another century and more will elapse before
people will think seriously of abolishing so perni-
cious a customn.
Henry. I wish I were a person in authority! I
should settle that matter.
Mr. Bill. Heaven seems to intend each of you
to be one day of the number of those who are en-
trusted with the power of promoting your country's
happiness. Every thing that is necessary for your
attaining so exalted a trust the goodness of Provi-
dence has bestowed upon you. You are born of en-
lightened and virtuous parents ; you are endowed

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
197
with the happiest qualifications of body and mind;
and, I may venture to affirm that you are receiving
an education which few men have the happiness to
receive. If, as I hope, you should fulfil your ho-
nourable destiny, if you should arrive one day or
other at the rank of those powerful men whose ac-
tions affect the happiness of so many thousands,
make use of the authority entrusted to you to lessen
the evils and promote the good of your fellow-crea-
tures ; scatter round you joy, prosperity and hap-
piness. Remember then, also, what has now given
rise to this paternal exhortation, and, if possible,
prevail upon your countrymen to bury their dead
in places where the stench of their bodies may not
injure the health of the living.
Robinson and his companions, having burned the
dead bodies, returned to the dwelling-place. As the
son was called Friday, Robinson gave the father the
name of Thursday, and thus we shall call him for
the future.
Robinson summoned them all to council, where
Friday still served as interpreter, and his master, as
chief, opened the assembly with the following short
speech :
“My dear friends, all who are present see them-
selves now in possession of whatever can contribute
to render their lives peaceable and commodious:
nevertheless, my heart will never find satisfaction
while I know that there are persons who have a
greater right thereto than I have, and yet languish in
the want thereof. I speak of the Spaniards who are
now amongst the savages. I wish that each of you
would communicate to me his advice and opinion
concerning the properest means for bringing those
unfortunate people hither.”
The Spaniard first offered to go for them, all
alone, in one of the canoes that they had taken from
the Indians. Thursday declared that he was ready
17*

198
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
to undertake the same expedition. Friday was of
opinion, that he himself, who was fitter for the en-
terprise, should accompany the Spaniard. A ge-
nerous contest arose between them all, and Robinson
was obliged to interpose. He pronounced, that
Thursday and the Spaniard should make the pro-
jected attempt, and that Friday should remain with
him.
Charlotte. But why did he not send Friday, papa,
Mr. Bill. The father knew the sea, and could
navigate it better than the son. As to the Spaniard,
there was a necessity that he should go, because, if
he did not, his countrymen, would, perhaps, not ac-
cept Robinson's invitation.
Before their departure, the Spaniard gave a proof
.
binson, but also of his prudence and circumspection.
He represented, that the other Spaniards were, like
himself, no more than common sailors, and, conse-
quently, people without education ; that he did not
know them sufficiently to answer for their beha-
viour; and that, therefore, he was of opinion that
Robinson, as master of the island, should draw out
the conditions upon which they should be received.
Robinson immediately pursued his advice. The
agreement which he drew up in consequence of it,
was worded as follows:
6 All persons who are desirous of residing in Ro-
binson Crusoe's island, and of enjoying there the
must consent,
" In the first place, to conform in every thing to
the will of the lawful master of the Island, and to
submit cheerfully to whatsoever laws and regula-
tions the said master shall judge necessary for the
good of the territory,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
199
6 Secondly, to be active, sober, and virtuous; for
no idle, drunken, vitious person will be tolerated in
this island.
96 Thirdly, to abstain from all quarrels.
6 Fourthly, to join without murmuring, in all the
labours which the good of the community shall re.
quire, and, in case of necessity, to assist the master
of the island at the hazard of their lives.
C" Fifthly, should any person presume to oppose
any one of these just laws, all the other members
of the community shall be bound to unite against
him, either to oblige him to return to his duty, or
to banish him for ever from the island.
“Every one is advised to consider these articles
maturely, and not to sign them (which would be
equal to the obligation of an oath) unless he is
firmly resolved to abide by the conditions of them.
Signed
ROBINSON CRUSOE.”
It was settled that the Spaniard should translate
this agreement into his native language, and take
pen and ink with him, that his countrymen might
sign it before they embarked.
They next chose the best of the canoes, and pre-
pared for their departure.
Geo. But was there room in one canoe for all the
Spaniards.
Mr. Bill. No: they only wanted this canoe to
sail to the other island : for their return they could
use the boats belonging to the Spanish ship, which
were still in very good condition.
When their provisions were laid in, the two depu-
ties set sail, after taking a friendly leaye of Robin.
son and Friday. At the moment of his father's de-
parture, Friday swam to the side of the boat, to
Shake hands with his father, and give him his last
farewell. which was almost stifled with sobs. On
his return ashore he sat down upon a rising ground,

200 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
with his eyes fixed upon the canoe, which scudded
before the wind until he had entirely lost sight of
it.
Robinson, to amuse him, spent the rest of the
day with him in shooting game, and traversing the
hills. They had not gone very far, when the spa-
niel that accompanied them, stopped at the foot of
a rock all overgrown with bushes, and fell a bark-
ing. They went up to him, and observed a hole
in the rock, which a man could not enter without
creeping.
Robinson desired Friday to try if he could get
into the hole, who, in making the trial, had scarce
put his head withinside, before he drew it out again
in a hurry, uttered a dreadful roar, and ran away
with the greatest terror and precipitation, never
once listening to Robinson's voice, who called him
back repeatedly. At length, overtaking him, Ro-
binson asked, with much surprise, why he had run
away. “Ah!" replied he, scarce able to speak,
“ah! my dear master, let us save ourselves with
the utmost speed. In that cave is a most terrible
monster.”
“ I should be curious to see it," said Robinson :
and, therefore, desired him forthwith to hasten to
the dwelling-place and fetch a lantern. In the mean
time, he went back to the rock, and stood sentinel
before the hole, with his musket in his hand.
Robinson said to himself, "What could Friday
have seen to terrify him so? Was it a wild beast?
In that case it would certainly be rash of me to en-
ter the hole. But if there were such animals in this
island, I should have seen some of them long before
now. I will know what it is, were it only to cure
this good young man of his childish aptness to be
frightened.
Friday now arrives, with the lantern lighted. He
endeayoured once more, with tears in his eyes, to


202
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
dissuade his master from exposing himself to dan-
ger. Robinson was a stranger to fear ; exhorting
Friday, therefore, to take courage, he advanced
boldly towards the cavern, with a lantern in one hand
and a loaded pistol in the other,
He perceived an object which really made him
shudder; nevertheless he did not run away. Hold-
ing his lantern farther in, he found it to be a lama
that was dying of old age. Looking round, and
perceiving no other animal but this harmless lama,
he crept entirely into the cavern, and bid Friday
follow him.
As he entered, Robinson said to him, smiling,
“Well, Friday, you see what fear can make us be-
lieve. Now, where are the great blazing eyes that
you saw ?"
Frid. And yet I really thought I saw them ; nay,
I could have sworn it.
Rob. Believe me, Friday, such is the foundation
of all stories concerning ghosts, and I know not
what idle fancies of the same sort. The first tell-
ers of these absurd tales were fearful old women,
or cowardly men of the same stamp.
While they were talking, the old lama expired.
Robinson and Friday dragged it out of the hole, in
order to bury it.
They next more attentively examined the spot
where they were, and found it to be a very spacious
and agreeable cave, which they might in future turn
to advantageous uses.
Robinson resolved to convert it into an agreeable
retreat, where he might enjoy a refreshing coolness
during the hotter part of the day, and also lodge
any of his provisions that were liable to be spoiled by
the heat. Luckily it was no more tlian a short mile
from the dwelling-place, whither Friday presently
repaired, and brought back tools, with which they
both fell to work to enlarge the entrance,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
203
THIRTIETH EVENING.
EDWARD. Every time now that papa sits down
to continue the story I feel a dread over me.
Mr. Bill. What are you afraid of, my dear?
Edw. That it will be the last evening.
Mr. Bill. My dear children, all our pleasures
here below are bounded; this must also have an
end, and you will do well to prepare yourselves be-
forehand for the conclusion of Robinson's adven-
tures.
A week was now elapsed without any appearance
of the deputies. Friday ran twenty times a day to
the top of the hillock or the sea side, and wearied
his eyes to no purpose in looking out for them.
One day Friday came bawling like a madman-
“They are coming !--they are coming!”
At these agreeable tidings Robinson took his
prospect glass, and hastened to the top of the hil-
lock; but when he put the glass to his eye, the joy
that was in his countenance disappeared, and he
said to Friday, shaking his head, “I doubt whether
those are the people that we wish for."
Robinson looked at the object a second time, and
being convinced that they were not his friends, he
communicated his alarms to Friday, who was al.
ready much disquieted.
“My friend,” said he, “it is an English boat with
English sailors in it. Follow me,” added he, taking
the road to an eminence from whence they could
better discover the northern coast. Scarce had they
reached it and looked out to sea, when they per-
ceived, at the distance of about a couple of leagues,
a large English ship lying at anchor.

TIST)

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
205
Surprise, fear, and joy seized Robinson's breast
by turns; joy, at the sight of a ship which might
perhaps carry him to his own country; surprise and
fear, because he could not conceive what had
brought an English ship upon these coasts. It could
not be a storm ; the weather had been quite calm
for some weeks. Nor could the ship's course have
occasioned her to come that way. What reason
could the captain have for sailing towards parts of
the world where the English have neither settle-
ments nor trade? He apprehended, therefore, that
they might be pirates.
Henry. What are they?
Mr. Bill. There are men to be found, who make
no scruple of taking away other people's property,
either by fraud or violence. If they do this on
land, they are called thieves or robbers; if on sea,
they are called pirates, freebooters, and the like.
Edw. But these were Englishmen.
Mr. Bill. So they appeared to be, it is true; but
it was possible that they might be outlaws and pi-
rates, who, having seized upon an English ship, had
dressed themselves in English clothing.
Robinson and Friday posted themselves on a ri-
sing ground, from whence, without being perceiv-
ed, they could have an eye upon whatever passed,
They saw the boat, with eleven men in it, come to
land at about a mile from the place where they were.
The strangers landed; eight of them were armed,
and the other three tied neck and heels. These
they unbound as soon as they were upon the beach.
By the countenance and actions of one of them in
particular, they judged that he was soliciting the
compassion of those who were armed; he fell at
their feet in the posture of a suppliant. The other
two now and then lifted up their hands to Heaven,
as if to implore succour and deliverance.
18

206
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
Robinson, shocked and grieved at this sight, knew
not what to resolve on.
It was not without shuddering that he saw some
of those who were armed, lift up their hangers se-
veral times over the head of him who was on his
knees before them. At last, he observed that the
prisoners were left alone, while the others disper-
sed themselves in the woods.
All three sat down with sorrowful and desponding
hearts on the spot where the rest left them.
This sight reminded Robinson of his own deplo-
rable situation the day he was cast ashore upon the
island, and it inspired him with the resolution of
risking every thing for the preservation of these
unfortunate people, if they should prove deserving
of it. Having thus determined, he sent Friday
home with orders to bring as many guns, pistols,
hangers, and as much ammunition, as he could carry.
Harriet. What is ammunition?
Mr. Bill. Powder and ball. Friday having per-
formed his errand, and all the fire-arms being char-
ged, they observed that the sailors were lain down
in the shade to sleep, during the violent heat of the
noon-day. Robinson, having waited a quarter of an
hour, advanced confidently towards the three prison-
ers, who were still sitting in the same spot with
their backs to him. When Robinson, approaching
them, called out suddenly, “who are you ?” they
* were all three thunder-struck.
Shade te ved that in the fire
noon
but Robinson bade them fear nothing, for he was
come to assist them. “You are, then, sent from
Heaven,” said one of them, surveying him with
the greatest astonishment. “ All assistance comes
from Heaven,” replied Robinson ; but, not to lose
time, tell me in what consists your distress." "I
am captain of that ship,” said one of them; then
pointing to his companions, “this,” continued he,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
207
“ was my mate, and that gentleman a passenger.
My sailors mutinied and seized the ship; their in-
tention at first was to kill me, and these my two
companions ; however, they have at length yielded
to our entreaties, and spared our lives: but this
boon is almost as bad as death itself: they expose us
on this desert island, where, being in want of every
thing, we are sure to perish miserably.”
“On two conditions,” said Robinson, “ I will risk
my blood and my life to relieve you from this ex-
tremity.
“They are these: While you remain upon this
island, you shall conform in every thing to my will;
and, if I succeed in recovering for you the posses-
sion of your ship, you shall give me and my com-
panion a free passage to England.” “We, the ship,
and all that it contains, shall be wholly at your dis-
posal,” replied the captain.
“Very well,” said Robinson. "I put a musket
and a sword into each of your hands, on condition
that you shall not use them until I think proper.
Your assassins are now asleep and dispersed one
from the other : come, let us try and master them
without spilling any blood.”
Friday carried with him the cords which had
been taken off the three prisoners. The first sailor
that they came up to slept so soundly that they
seized him by the hands and feet, and crammed a
handkerchief into his mouth. They tied his hands
behind his back, and commanded him to remain on
the spot without stirring or making the least noise
on pain of being put to death that moment.
The second met with the same treatment. Pro-
vidence appeared on this occasion the protector of
innocence and avenger of villany. Six of them
were now tied, but the two last awoke, started up,
and took their arms. “Wretches !” cried Robinson

208
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
to them, “see where your companions lie! Be as-
sured we are superior to you in force.”
"They threw down their arms, and, in their turn,
fell upon their knees to entreat their captain's pardon.
They were all conducted to the cavern which had
been lately discovered, there to be confined.
After this, Robinson and Friday, with their new
friends, went down to the boat: they drew it up on
the beach, and bored holes in its bottom to render it
for the present unfit for use.
Henry. Why did they do so ?
Mr. Bill. They foresaw, that, when the first boat
did not return, the people aboard would send a se-
cond. They chose, therefore, to put it out of their
power to take back the first.
What they expected happened accordingly. About
three o'clock in the afternoon, they saw another
boat put off from the ship towards the island. Ro-
binson, with his companions, retired to a rising
ground, in order to observe what measures circum-
stances might require them to pursue.
The boat having come to land, the men jumped
out and ran to the first. They looked all round, and
called their companions by their names, but no-
body answered. They were ten in number, all well
armed.
Robinson, being informed by the captain, that,
amongst those whom they had made prisoners,
there were three who from fear alone had joined in
the mutiny, sent Friday and the mate for them im-
mediately. On their appearance, the captain, after
reproaching them a little for their behaviour, asked
them whether, if he should pardon them, they would
remain faithful to him for the future. “To the last
moment of our lives,” they said, trembling, and im-
mediately falling on their knees, and heartily repent-
ing of their folly, shed tears of joy on being forgiven.
The captain gave them back their arms, and desi-
The boon to the first ons by their na

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE. 209
red them to yield a punctual obedience to their
common chief.
In the mean time, the people of the second boat
were firing their guns, with the expectation that
their scattered comrades would hear them. At
last, finding all their researches useless, they put
off, intending to lie at anchor about a hundred yards
from the shore. The captain and Robinson were
apprehensive lest they should go back to the ship,
and the crew should take the resolution of setting
sail without their companions : to prevent which
event, Robinson ordered Friday and one of the
sailors to go behind the thickets, about a mile from
the boat, and answer the men whenever they called,
in order to draw the sailors after them to as great
a distance as possible from shore; and, having done
this, Friday and the sailor were to return as quick
as they could by another way.
This stratagem succeeded completely. No soon-
er did the sailors in the boat hear a voice answer
them, than they hastened to land again, and ran
towards that quarter from whence they heard the
voice, leaving two to guard the boat.
Friday and his companion performed their part
admirably. They drew the sailors after them about
three miles from the shore, and then they hastened
back to join their commanders.
Night now came on, and it grew by degrees
darker and darker. Robinson and his companions
advanced silently towards the boat, unperceived by
the two sailors who guarded it; then they all show-
ed themselves at once, and threatened the two men
with instant death if they dared to stir a step. They
begged for quarter, upon which Robinson's party
went up to them, and tied their hands. This done,
they made haste to draw up the boat to a consider-
able distance from the water, led away their two
prisoners, and concealed themselves behind the
18*

310
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
bushes, to wait for the return of the other sailors,
They came back straggling one after another, and
all exceedingly fatigued with their unsuccessful ex-
pedition. Their astonishment and vexation at not
finding the boat is impossible to be expressed. As
soon as there was five of them together, one of
those who had been pardoned was sent to them to
ask whether they chose to lay down their arms and
surrender that moment; adding, that in case of their
refusal, the governor of the island had posted a de-
tachment of fifty men not thirty yards off, whose
fire could not possibly miss them though it was dark.
At the same time Robinson and his company
made a clattering with their arms, to confirm the
sailor's account of their number. “Can we hope
for pardon?” said one of them. The captain, who
was unseen, answered, “ Thomas Smith, you know
my voice; lay down your arms instantly, and you
shall all have your lives spared, except Atkins."
They all immediately threw down their arms.
Atkins begged for mercy. Then Friday and the
three sailors were sent to tie their hands; and the
other three mutineers, returning at the same time
from their ramble, submitted to be tied with the
rest.
Upon this, Robinson, as one of the governor's
officers, came forward to the prisoners. The cap.
tain, who accompanied him, chose out those whom
he thought capable of a sincere repentance: these
were sent to be lodged near the entrance of the
dwelling place; the others were put into the ca-
vern.
To-morrow evening, my dear children, you shall
have the sequel of this adventure.

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
211
THIRTY-FIRST EVENING.
MR. BILL. My dear children, we now draw
near the conclusion.
The sailors, whose lives had been promised
them, were lodged, as before mentioned, near the
entrance of the dwelling-place; they were ten in
number. Robinson informed them, that their of-
fence being mutiny, they should not receive a full
pardon, but on the condition of assisting their law-
ful commander to recover possession of his ship.
Robinson added, that if they acquitted themselves
properly 'of this just duty, they would save the
lives of their comrades in prison, who, if the ship
was not recovered that very night were all to be
hanged the next morning at break of day.
In the mean time, the ship's carpenter was or-
dered immediately to repair the boat that had been
scuttled ; and as soon as this was done, they launch-
ed them both. It was agreed, that the captain
should command one, and the mate the other. Every
man had arms and ammunition.
Robinson, whose destiny was now going to be
decided, felt an anxiety and agitation of mind that
did not suffer him to rest.
Sometimes he sat down in the cave, sometimes he
walked about upon the terrace, and sometimes he
went up to the top of the hillock, to listen whether
any thing was to be heard from that quarter where
the ship lay. His anxiety was continually increas-
ing, because he expected the signal that had been
agreed upon between them : three guns were to be
the token of the captain's success, and it was al-
ready midnight. He at length seasonably recol-
lected a maxim with which he had, not long ago,

212
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
endeavoured to fortify his man Friday. “ In a doubt-
ful case," said he, “always expect the worst. If
this worst does not happen, so much the better for
you; if it does, you are prepared for it, and have
already destroyed half its power to hurt.”.
Consequently, Robinson considered as indubita-
ble the ill success of the expedition. He now gave
up all hope-whén, suddenly, the deep and distant
sound of a gun was heard. As if he had been
roused out of his sleep, he listensa second re-
port- then a third !
Intoxicated with joy, he throws his hands round
Friday's neck, and bedews him with his tears, una-
ble to utter a single word. “What is the matter,
my dear master ?" said Friday, terrified with all this
hurry and sudden overflow of affection.
“Ah! Friday!" was all the answer that Robin-
son, in the fulness of his joy, could return.
“Heaven have compassion on my poor master's
head!” said Friday to himself, imagining him to
have lost his senses.
6 You must go to bed, my dear master.” Robin-
son, in a tone of voice, which expressed his trans-
port, cried, “Me! me to bed! Friday, at the very
moment when Heaven is crowning the only wish
that my heart has cherished so long ! Did you not
hear the three guns?".
Friday, on being informed of this fortunate event,
rejoiced, it is true, but more on his master's ac-
count than his own. The thoughts of soon quit.
ting his native climate for ever, damped the satis.
faction which he would otherwise have enjoyed.
Robinson waited with impatience for the moment
when broad day-light should give him a full yiew
of the instrument of his deliverance. The moment
comes-Heaven ! is it possible? - Dreadful idea !
He sees, without the smallest room for doubt, that

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
213
the ship is no longer there. He shrieks, and falls
down in a swoon.
Friday ran to him, but was a long time before he
could comprehend what was the matter with his
master.
I see, my dear children, you are divided between
joy and compassion. You all maintain a profound
silence. I will take advantage of it and go on.
Robinson shows us here, by his example, how
careful men should be not to suffer their pas-
sions to get the better of them. If he had not at first
indulged an immoderate joy, he would not after-
wards have fallen into an excessive degree of sor-
row; he would have reflected that Providence has
means to rescue us from distress, even when we
think it impossible. This reflection would have
contributed to restore him to tranquillity.
While Robinson was desponding, and Friday en-
deavouring to comfort him, they were agreeably
surprised to behold the captain coming up the
hillock accompanied by some of his people. Ro-
binson sprung forward to take him by the hand,
and happening to turn himself that way, he per-
ceived the ship at ancher in a creek on the western
side of the island. Judge whether his grief was
banished in a moment.
Robinson was so overjoyed that he could not quit
the captain, who on his side was no less delighted.
The captain related the manner of his becoming
master of the ship without killing or wounding a
single person. The night was so dark that the
mutineers never saw him, and so made not the
least difficulty in receiving those on board who ac-
companied him. The most refractory were going,
it is true, to stand upon their defence, but their re-
sistance would have been vain. “ It is you,” added
he, with tears in his eyes, " it is you, generous man !
who have saved me and restored my ship. It is

214 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
now yours; you shall dispose both of that and me at
your pleasure.”
In the mean time Robinson related his strange
adventures, which more than once excited the cap-
tain's highest admiration. The latter entreated
Robinson to tell him what he should do for him.
« Besides what I stipulated yesterday," answered
he, “I have three things more to desire of you.
In the first place, I request you to wait the return
of the Spaniards and my man Friday's father : 2dly.
To receive aboard your ship, not only me and my
people, but also all the Spaniards, whom you will
land in their own country, sailing to Cadiz for that
purpose: lastly. To pardon the principal mutineers,
and to punish them no otherwise than by letting
them remain here on my island.”
The captain, having assured him that these arti.
cles should be punctually performed, sent for the
prisoners, picked out the most guilty, and told them
their sentence, which they heard with a degree of
satisfaction, very well knowing that by law they
were liable to be put to death. Robinson recom-
mended to them, over and over, to put their trust
in Heaven, to agree together, and to be industrious,
assuring them that the practice of these virtues
would not a little contribute towards rendering their
confinement in this island agreeable.
He was still speaking, when Friday brought the
pleasing news that his father was coming with the
Spaniards, and that they were that moment landing.
Friday flew to the sea-side, and embraced his fa-
ther again and again, before the rest came up.
Robinson saw with surprise, that, amongst those
who came in the boats, there were two women.
He questioned Thursday concerning them, who told
him that they were natives whom the two Spaniards
had married. As soon as these two Spaniards
learned that Robinson intended to leave some sail.

-
העתקצר
ייחודי
, מגוווווווווווווורגוויין
III

216
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ors behind him upon the island, they requested per-
mission to remain there with their wives.
Robinson readily consented to it. He was well
pleased that two men should remain upon his
island, of whom all their comrades gave the most
excellent character, as it was possible that they
might bring back the mutineers, with whom they
were left, to a regular and peaceable life. With this
view he resolved to give the Spaniards a degree of
authority over them.
Those who were to be left on the island were six
Englishmen, and two Spaniards with their wives.
Robinson called the whole together, and declared
his will to them in the following words:
“I hope none of you will dispute my right to do
as I please with the property of this island and all
that belongs to it. I wish equal happiness to all of
you who remain here after me. To secure it there
must be a certain order and subordination amongst
you, which it belongs only to me to prescribe. I
declare, therefore, that I appoint the two Spaniards
as substitutes in my place, and that they shall for
the future be the lawful masters of the island.
You shall all pay them the strictest obedience ;
they alone shall have possession of the little fort
and live there; they alone shall have under their
care all the arms, ammunition, and tools, but which
they will lend you, whenever you have occasion for
them, provided you be quiet and peaceable. Per-
haps one day or other I may have an opportunity of
hearing from you. Perhaps I may even resolve to
come and finish my days in this island, such an af-
fection do I feel for it even at this moment.”
They all agreed to these regulations and promi-
sed the most perfect obedience.
Robinson then took an inventory of the few
goods that he intended to carry away with him.
They were, Ist. The dress of skins that he had

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE217
C
.
made for himself, together with the umbrella and
the mask: 2dly. The spear, the bow and arrows,
and the stone hatchet, which were also his own
workmanship: 3dly. Poll, the spaniel, and two la-
mas: 4thly. Several utensils and pieces of furni.
ture, which he had made while he was alone : 5thly.
The gold dust and diamonds; and, lastly, the lump
of gold, which was his own property.
** All these articles being carried aboard, and the
wind favourable, their departure was fixed for the
next day.
The captain, to contribute in some measure to
the welfare of the new inhabitants of the island,
ordered a quantity of provisions to be brought from
the ship, together with gunpowder, iron and work-
ing tools, all which he bestowed as a present on the
colony.
Towards evening, Robinson made his excuses,
and begged permission to be alone for an hour.
Every one withdrawing, he went to the top of the
hillock; there he revolved in his mind the series
of events that had happened during his abode upon
the island, and his heart, full of the liveliest filial
gratitude, opened itself in thanksgiving to his Su-
preme Benefactor.
The time of their departure being arrived, Ro-
binson affectionately exhorted the colony to be una-
nimous, industrious, and, above all, religious; and,
bearing in his breast a regard for the welfare of the
whole, he recommends them as his brothers to that
divine protection which he had always wonderfully
experienced. He looks round once more with in-
ward satisfaction, and for the last time he bids fare-
well to the inhabitants whom he leaves in the island,
but in a voice scarcely to be heard. At length he
roes aboard, accompanied by Thursday and Friday.
Some of the Children. Now the story is ended,
Rich. Pray, have patience; who knows whether
19

218 THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
some obstacle may not yet happen to hinder his de
parture?
Mr. Bill. The wind was fresh, and blew sofa-
vourably that the island seemed to withdraw from
them very fast. As long as it was in sight, Robinson
kept his eyes fixed upon the spot, which, from his
having lived upon it for 12 years, was become al-
most as dear to him as his own native country.
They had a very fine voyage, and in twenty-four
days cast anchor in the harbour of Cadiz, where they
landed all their Spanish passengers. Robinson
went into the town to inquire for the merchant to
whom the barrel of gold dust belonged which the
had saved from the wreck. He was fortunate
enough to find him, and to learn that the honest
merchant, by recovering this gold, would be extri.
cated from the greatest difficulties.
The barrel of gold dust was more than sufficient
to pay off the merchant's debts. Penetrated with
gratitude, he wished to bestow the remainder upon
his benefactor. Robinson, far from accepting it, de-
clared that he was already too well rewarded in the
satisfaction of having prevented the ruin of an ho-
nest merchant.
From Cadiz they set sail for England. In this
part of the voyage a melancholy event happened.
Thursday fell suddenly ill, and died, in spite of all
the assistance that could be given him. The two
lamas, also, being no longer able to endure the
voyage and the sea air, died soon after.
The ship arrived without any accident at Ports-
mouth. Robinson hoped to find there the widow to
whom he was to restore the diamonds. He found
her, indeed, according to the direction that he had
received for her, but in very low circumstances.
She and her children were reduced to very great
distress; in short, they were almost in rags, and po-
yerty was painted in the countenance of each person

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE. 219
of the family. Robinson, therefore, once more ex-
perienced the satisfaction, so delightful to every
man of benevolence, of being an instrument in the
hands of Providence to dry up the tears of the un-
fortunate. He gave her the diamonds; and, as a
plant that is almost parched in stalk and branches
recovers its strength and verdure after a kindly and
refreshing shower, he saw this family lift up their
heads once more, make a proper figure in society,
and enjoy a happiness, arising from independence,
which they had long since despaired of attaining.
As Robinson found here a small vessel going to
Plymouth immediately, he took leave of his captain,
not choosing to go by land, and hastened with Fri-
day aboard the Plymouth vessel, which set sail that
same evening.
This short passage was soon performed. They
were already in sight of the Eddistone light-house,
when all of a sudden a violent storm arose, which
carried the vessel to the westward. All that skill
and activity could do was put in practice to tack and
keep out to sea, but to no purpose ; a furious gust
of wind rendered all their exertions useless; it
forced the ship upon a sand-bank with such violence
that she bulged.
The people had scarce time to take to their boats,
which was the only resource they had to preserve
their lives.
They fortunately reached shore at a place not far
from Plymouth. Robinson saved out of all his effects
nothing but his faithful spaniel, who swam after the
boat, and Poll, his parrot, which flew upon his
shoulder the moment she saw him leave the ship.
He stopped in Plymouth that night, and the next
day learned, that, amongst the goods saved from the
wreck, were his umbrella and suit of clothes made
of skins. These, being of no use to the finder,
were restored to him by a fisherman for a trifling

220
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
gratuity. As to his great wedge of gold, it was
lost irrecoverably.
Rich. Poor Robinson!
Mr. Bill. He is now exactly as rich as when he
formerly set sail from Plymouth. As to Robinson,
this loss gave him very little concern. Proposing,
as he did, to live all the rest of his days as soberly
and with the same perseverance in labour as he had
whilst upon his island, he found a lump of gold to
ssary in the prosecution of such a
plan.
He now took the coach for his native city Exeter.
He had already learned at Portsmouth that his mo:
ther was dead, and he had bitterly lamented her
loss. At length he stops in Exeter: his heart
beating with joy, he springs out of the coach, and
if it had not been for the numbers of people in the
street, he would have fallen on his face to kiss the
ground of his native city.
Going into the inn at which the carriage stopped,
he chose to send to his father, in order to prepare
him by degrees for the unexpected return of his
son. The man who was charged with this message
had orders to tell the old gentleman, at first, that a
person desired to speak with him, who brought him
agreeable news from his son: he was, after some
time, to add, that his son was coming to Exeter;
and, lastly, to declare that the bearer of these agree.
able tidings was his son himself. Without this
preparation, the good old man might have been seized
with such an excess of joy as would have cost him
his life.
After this precaution, Robinson, who still knew
the streets perfectly well, flies to his father's house.
As soon as he arrived there, in a transport of inex-
pressible ecstacy he throws himself into his father's
arms, who trembled all over. “Oh, my father!"
mm My dear son !"_was all that they could say,

THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
221
Friday, wh suffocated withth their
Throbbing and speechless, they remained some time
locked in each other's arms; at length, a seasonable
flood of tears relieved both their breasts, which
were almost suffocated with joy.
Friday, whom the multitude of different objects
that he saw filled with surprise, was staring about
in silence. His eyes could never have enough.
In the mean time, the noise of Robinson Crusoe's
return and his surprising adventures was spread
rapidly through the city of Exeter. His father's
house was for ever full of people, and Robinson was
employed in relating his story from morning to eve-
ning; in the course of which he never forgot to ad-
dress to the fathers and mothers who heard him the
following exhortation, “ If you love your children,
I pray you teach them, in their early years, to be
godly, sober, and laborious :” and if there happened
to be young persons present, he was careful to give
them this wholesome advice, “My dear children,
obey your parents and your teachers; learn dili-
gently whatever you have a capacity to learn ; fear
God, and be careful-oh, be careful to avoid idleness!
It is the mother of every vice."
Robinson's father was by profession a broker, and
he wished to see his son apply to his own business,
in order to take it up after his death; but Robinson,
long accustomed to the pleasure of manual labour,
begged his permission to learn the trade of a car-
penter, and his father not opposing his inclination,
he put himself, together with Friday, apprentice to
that business, in which they made such proficiency,
that, before the end of the year, they could work
with as much neatness and despatch as any of the
trade in Exeter.
After some time, they opened the business in
partnership, and during their whole lives remained
faithful friends and inseparable companions. In-
dustry and sobriety were so much a second nature

222
THE NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE.
to them, that they could not have passed even half
a day in idleness or loose living. In remembrance
of their former solitary way of life, they pitched
upon one day in the week to live in the same man-
ner as they used in their island, as far as that could
be done. Concord between themselves, indulgence
for the faults of others, beneficence towards those
whom they knew, and humanity to all men, were
virtues so habitual to them, that they could not con-
ceive how any one who neglected the practice of
them could be happy. They were particularly dis-
tinguished by a pure, sincere, and active piety.
Therefore, the blessing of Heaven visibly crowned
all their endeavours. Being always actively em-
ployed about something useful, they reached a very
advanced age in health and peace; and the remotest
posterity will respect the memory of two men, who,
by their example, have shown to the world in what
manner we may best work out our temporal wel-
fare in this life, and our eternal happiness in the
next.
Here Mr. Billingsley was silent; the children
continued sitting some little time longer, in deep
reflection, until this thought, I will endeavour to da
the same, which resulted as a moral from what they
had heard, took root in the breast of each, and ac-
quired the force of an immoveable resolution.
FINIS.