The Life and Most Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Mariner (1801)

I must confess I was so confounded at this discourse, that I could not tell how to answer him. "Sir,' said he, feeling me in disorder, 'I shall be very sorry if I have given you offence." No Sir, said I, I am rather confounded; and you know my circumstances, that being bound to the East Indies in a merchant ship, I cannot wrong the owners so much, as to detain the ship here, the men lying at victuals and savages on their account. If I stay aboard several days, I must pay 3l. sterling per diem demurage, nor must the ship stop above eight days more; so that I am unable to engage in this work, unless I would leave the ship, and be reduced to my former condition. The priest, though he owned this was hard upon me, yet laid it to my conscience, whether the blessing of saving seven and thirty souls was not worth venturing all that I had in the world? Sir, said I, it is very true; but as you are an ecclesiastic, it naturally falls into your profession: why, therefore, don't you rather offer to undertake it yourself than press me to it? upon this he turned about, making a very low bow, "I most humbly thank God and you, Sir, (said he) for so blessed a call; and most willingly undertake so glorious an office, which will sufficiently compensate all the hazards and difficulties I have gone through in a long and uncomfortable voyage."

While he was thus speaking, I could discover a rapture in his face, by his colour going and coming; at the same time his eyes sparkled like fire, and all the signs of the most zealous transports. And when I asked whether he was in earnest? Sir, said he, it was to preach to the Indians I consented to come along with you; these infidels, even in this little island, are infinitely of more worth than my poor life: if so that I should prove the happy instrument of saving these poor creatures' souls, I care not if I never see my native country again. One thing I only beg of you more is, that you would leave Friday with me, to be my interpreter, without whose assistance neither of us will understand each other.

This request very sensibly troubled me; first, upon Friday's being bred a Protestant; and secondly, for the affection I bore to him for his fidelity: But, immediately the remembrance of Friday's father coming into my head, I recommended him to him as having learned Spanish, which the priest also understood; and so was thoroughly satisfied with him.

When we came to the Englishmen, after I had told them what necessary things I had done for them, I talked to them of the scandalous life they led, told them what notice the clergyman had taken of it, and asked them if they were married men or bachelors? They answered, two of them were widowers, and the other three single men. But, said I, with what conscience can you call these your wives, by whom you have so many children, and yet are not lawfully married? They all said that they took them before the governor as such, having nobody else to marry them, which they thought as legal, as if they had had a parson. No doubt, said I, but in the eye of God it is so: but unless I am assured of your honest intent, never to desert these poor creatures, I can do nothing more for you, neither can you expect God's blessing while you live in such an open course of adultery. Hereupon, Will Atkins, who spoke for the rest, told me 'That they believed their wives the most innocent and virtuous creatures in the world; that they would never forsake them while they had breath; and that, if there was a clergyman in the ship, they would be married to them with all their hearts.' I told you before, said I, that I have a minister with me, who shall marry you to-morrow morning, if you are willing; so I would have you consult to-night with the rest about it. I told him the clergyman was a Frenchman, and knew not a word of English, but that I would act as clerk between them. And indeed this business met with such speedy success, that they all told me, in a few minutes after, 'that they were ready to be formally married as soon as I pleased;' with which informing the priest, he was exceedingly rejoiced.

Nothing now remained, but that the women should be made sensible of the meaning of the thing; with which being well satisfied, they with their husbands attended at my apartment the next morning; there was my priest, habited in a black vest, something like a cassock, with a sash round it; much resembling a minister, and I was his interpreter. But the seriousness of his behaviour, and the scruples he made of marrying the women, who were not baptized, gave them, an exceeding reverence for his person: nor indeed would he marry them at all, till he obtained my liberty to discourse both with the men and women, and then he told them, 'That in the sight of all indifferent men, and in the sense of the laws of society, they had lived in open adultery, which nothing new, but their consent to marry, or final separation, could put an end to; and even here was a difficulty with respect to the laws of Christian matrimony, in marrying a professed Christian to a heathen idolater, unbaptized; but yet there was time enough to make them profess the name of Christ, without which nothing could be done; that, besides, he believed themselves very indifferent Christians; and consequently had not discoursed with their wives upon that subject; and that unless they promised him to do so, he could not marry them, as being expressly forbidden by the laws of God.'

All this they heard attentively, and owned readily.

But, Lord, Sir, said Will Atkins to me how could we teach them religion, who know nothing of it ourselves? How can we talk to our wives of God, Jesus Christ, heaven, and hell? Why they would only laugh at us, who never yet have practiced religion, but on the contrary all manner of wickedness. Will Atkins, said I, cannot you tell your wife she is in the wrong, and that her gods are idols, which can neither speak nor understand; but that our God, who has made, can destroy all things; that he rewards the good and punishes the wicked; and at last will bring us to judgment; cannot you tell her these things? That's true, said Atkins, but then she'll tell me it is utterly false, since I am not punished and sent to the devil, who hath been such a wicked creature. These words I interpreted to the priest. "Oh!" said he, "tell him, his repentance will make him a very good minister to his spouse, and qualify him to preach on the mercy and long suffering of a merciful Being, who desires not the death of a sinner, and even defers damnation to the last judgment; this will lead him to the doctrine of the resurrection and will make him an excellent preacher to his wife." I repeated this to Atkins, who being more than ordinary affected with it, replied, I know all this, Sir, and a great deal more; but how can I have the impudence to talk thus to my wife, given my conscience witnesses against me? Alas! said he (with tears in his eye, and giving a great sigh) as for repenting, that is for ever past me. Past you! Atkins, said I, what do you mean? You know well enough, said he, what I mean, I mean it is too late.

When I told the priest what he said, the poor affectionate man could not refrain from weeping; but recovering himself "Pray, Sir," said he, "ask him if he is contented that it is too late; or is he concerned, and wishes it were not so?" This question I put fairly to Atkins, who replied in a passion, How can I be easy in a state which I know must terminate in my ruin? for I really believe, some time or other, I shall cut my threat, to put a period both to my life, and to the terrors of my conscience.

At this, the clergyman shook his head, "Sir," said he, "pray tell him it is not too late; Christ will give him repentance, if he has recourse to the merit of his passion. Does he think he is beyond the power of Divine mercy? There may indeed be a time when provoked mercy will no longer strive, but never too late for men to repent in this world." I told Atkins every word the priest had said, who then parted from us to walk with his wife, while we discoursed with the rest. But these were very stupid in religious matters; yet all of them promised to do their endeavours to make their wives turn Christians; and upon which promises the priest married the three couple. But as Atkins was the only sincere convert and of more sense than the rest, my clergyman was earnestly inquiring after him: "Sir," said he, "let us walk out of this labyrinth, & I dare say we shall find this poor man preaching to his wife already." And indeed we found it true; for coming to the edge of the wood, we perceived Atkins and his savage wife sitting under the shade of a bush, in very earnest discourse; he pointed to the sun, to the quarters of the earth, to himself, to her, the woods, and the trees. Immediately we could perceive him start upon his feet, fall down upon his knees, and lift up both his hands; at which the tears ran down my clergyman's cheeks; but our great misfortune was, we could not hear one word that passed between them. Another time he would embrace her, wiping the tears from her eyes, kissing her with the greatest transports, and then both kneel down for some minutes together. Such raptures of joy did this confirm in my young priest, that he could scarcely contain himself: And a little after this, we observed by her motion, as frequently lifting up her hands, and laying them on her breast, that she was mightily affected with his discourse, and so they withdrew from our sight.

When we came back, we found them both waiting to be called in; upon which he agreed to examine him alone, and so I began thus to discourse him. "Prithee, Will Atkins," said I, "what education have you? What was your father?"

W.A. A better man than ever I shall be; he was, Sir, a clergyman, who gave me good instruction, or correction, which I despised like a brute as I was, and murdered my poor father.

Pr. Ha! a murderer!

[Here the priest started and looked pale, as thinking he had really killed his father.]

R.C. What, did you kill him with your hands?

W.A. No, Sir, I cut not his throat, but broke his heart by the most unnatural turn of disobedience to the tenderest and best of fathers.

R.C. Well, I pray God grant you repentance: I did not ask you to exhort a confession; but I asked you because I see you have more knowledge of what is good than your companions.

W.A. O Sir, whenever I look back upon my past life, conscience upbraids me with my father: the sins against our parents make the deepest wounds, and their weight lies the heaviest upon the mind.

R.C. You talk, Will, too feelingly and sensibly for me; I am not able to bear it.

W.A. You bear it, Sir! you know nothing of it.

R.C. But yes, Atkins, I do; and every shore, valley, and tree in this island, witness the anguish of my soul for my undutifulness to my kind father, whom I have murdered likewise; yet my repentance falls infinitely short of yours. But, Will, how comes the sense of this matter to touch you just now?

W.A. Sir, the work you have set me about, has occasioned it; for talking to my wife about God and religion, she has preached me such a sermon, that I shall retain it in lasting remembrance.

R.C. No, no, it is your own moving pious arguments to her, has made conscience fling them back upon you. But pray, Atkins, inform us what passed between you and your wife, and in what manner you did begin.

W.A. I talked to her of the laws of marriage, the reason of such compacts, whereby order and justice is maintained; without which men would run from their wives and children, to the dissolution of families or inheritances.

R.C. Well, and what did she say to all this?

W.A. Sir, we began our discourse in the following manner, which I shall exactly repeat according to my mean capacity, if you think it worth you while to honour it with your attention.

The DIALOGUE between WILL ATKINS and his Wife in the wood.

Wife. You tell me marriage God appoint, have you God in your country?

W.A. Yes, child, God is in every nation.

Wife. No; great old Benamuckee God is in my country, not yours.

A. My dear, God is in heaven, which he made; he also made the earth, the sea and all that is therein.

Wife. Why you no tell me much long ago?

A. My dear I have been a wicked wretch, having a long time lived without the knowledge of God in the world.

Wife. What, not know great God in own nation? No do good ting? No say O to him? that's strange!

A. But, my dear, many live as if there was no God in heaven for all that.

Wife. Why God suffer them? why makee not live well?

A. It is our own faults, child.

Wife. But if he is much great, can makee kill, why no makee kill when no serve him? No be good mans, no cry O to him?

A. That's true, my dear, he may strike us dead, but his abundant mercy spareth us.

Wife. Did not you tell God thanked for that?

A. No, I have neither thanked him for his mercy, nor feared him for his power.

Wife. Then me not believe your God be good, nor makee kill, when you makee him angry.

A. Alas! must my wicked life hinder you from believing in him?

Wife. How can me tink your God lives there? (pointing to heaven.) Sure he no ken what you do here.

A. Yes, my dear, he hears us speak, sees what we do, and knows what we even think.

Wife. Where then makee power strong, when he hears you curse, swear de great damn?

A. My dear, this shows indeed he is a God and not a man who has such tender mercy.

Wife. Mercy I what you call mercy?

A. He pities and spares us: as he is our great Creator, so he is also our tender Father.

Wife. So God never angry, never kill wicked, then he no good, no great mighty.

A. O my dear, don't say so, he is both; and many times he shows terrible examples of his judgment and vengeance.

Wife. Then you makee de bargain with him; you do bad ting, he no hurt you, he hurt other mans.

A. No, indeed, my lips are all presumptions upon his goodness.

Wife. Well, and yet no makee you dead; and you give him no tankee neither?

A. It is true, I an ungrateful, unthankful dog, that I am.

Wife. Why, you say, he makee you, why makee you no much better then?

A. It is I alone that have deformed myself, and abused his goodness.

Wife. Pray makee God know me, me no makee him angry, no do bad ting.

A. You mean, my dear, that you desire I would teach you to know God: alas! poor dear creature, he must teach thee, and not I. But I'll pray earnestly to him to direct thee, and to forgive me, a miserable sinner. (Hereupon he went a little distance, and kneeling down, prayed earnestly to God to enlighten her mind, and to pardon his sins; when this was done, they continued their discourse thus.)

Wife. What you put down knee for? For what hold up hand? Who you speak to?

A. My dear, I bowed in token of submission to him that made me, and prayed that he would open your eyes and understanding.

Wife. And can he do that too? And will he hear what you say?

A. Yes, my dear, he bids us pray, and has given us promise that he will hear us.

Wife. When did he bid you pray? What I do you hear him speak?

A. No, my dear, but God has spoken formerly to good men from heaven; and by divine revelation they have written all his laws down in a book.

Wife. O where dat good book?

A. I have it not now by me; but one time or other I shall get it for you to read. Then he embraced her with great affection.

Wife. Pray tell a mee, did God, teachee them write that book?

A. Yes, and by that rule we know him to be God.

Wife. What way, what rule you know him?

A. Because he teaches what is good, just, and holy; and forbids all wicked and abominable actions that incur his displeasure.

Wife. O me fain understand that, and if he do all things you say he do, surely he hear me say O to him; he makee me good if I wish to be good, he no kill me if I love him; me tink, believe him great God; me say O to him, along with you, my dear.

Here the poor man fell upon his knees, and made her kneel down by him praying with the greatest fervency, that God would instruct her by his Holy Spirit; and that God by his providence would send them a Bible for both their instructions. And such was the early piety of this new convert, that she made him promise never to forsake God any more, lest being made dead, as she called it; she should not only want her instructor, but himself be miserable in a long eternity.

Such a surprising account as this was, proved very affecting to us both, but particularly to the young clergyman, who was mightily concerned he could not talk to her himself. "Sir," said he, "there, is something more to be done to this woman then to marry her; I mean that she ought to be baptized." To this, I presently agreed: "Pray," said he, "ask her husband, whether he has ever talked to her of Jesus Christ, the salvation of sinners, the nature of faith, and redemption in and by him, of the Holy Spirit, the resurection, last judgment, and a future state;" but the poor fellow melted into tears at this question, saying, that he had said something to her of these things, but his inability to talk of them, made him afraid, lest her knowledge of them should rather make her contemn religion, than be benefited by it; but that if I would discourse with her, it would be very evident my labour would not be in vain. Accordingly I called her in, and placing myself as interpreter between the religious priest and the woman, I entreated him to go on; but surely never was such a sermon preached by any clergyman in these latter days, with so much zeal, knowledge, and sincerity; in short, he brought the woman to embrace the knowledge of Christ, and of redemption by him, with so surprising a degree of understanding, that she made it her own request to be baptized.

He than performed his office in the sacrament of baptism, first, by saying some words over to himself in Latin, and then asking me to give her a name, as being her godfather, and pouring a whole dish-full of water upon the woman's head, he said, "Mary, I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost;" so that none could know of what religion he was. After this he pronounced the benediction in Latin. Thus the woman being made a Christian, he married her to Will Atkins; which being finished, he affectionately exhorted him to lead a holy life for the future; and since the Almighty, for the convictions of his conscience, had honoured him to be the instrument or his wife's conversion, he should not dishonor the grace of God, that while the savage was converted, the instrument should be cast away. Thus ended a ceremony, to me the most pleasant and agreeable I ever passed in my life.

The affairs of the island being settled, I was preparing to go on board, when the young man (whose mother was starved) came to me, saying, that as he understood I had a clergyman with me, who had married the Englishmen with savages, he had a match to make between two Christians, which he desired might be finished before I departed. Thinking that it was he himself that had courted his mother's maid, I persuaded him not to do any thing rashly upon the account of his solitary circumstances; that the maid was an unequal match for him, both in respect to substance and years; and that it was very probable he would live to return to his own country, where he might have a far better choice. At these words, smiling, he interrupted me, thanking me for my good-advice; that as he had nothing to beg of me but a small settlement, with a servant or two, or some new necessaries, so he hoped I would not be unmindful of him when I returned to England, but give his letter to his friends; and that when he was redeemed, the plantation, and all its improvements, however valuable, should be returned to me again. But as for the marriage he proposed, that it was not himself, but that it was between my Jack-of-all-trades and the maid Susan.

I was indeed agreeably surprised at the mentioning this match, which seemed very suitable, the one being a very ingenious fellow, and the other an excellent, dexterous, and sensible housewife, fit to be governess of the whole island; so we married them the same day; and as I was her father, and gave her away, so I gave her a handsome portion, appointing her and her husband a convenient large space of ground for their plantation. The sharing out of the land I left to Will Atkins, who really divided if very justly, to every person's satisfaction; they only desired one general writing under my hand for the whole, which I caused to be drawn up, signed, and sealed to them, setting out their bounds, and giving them a right to the whole possession of their respective plantations, with their improvements, to them and their heirs, reserving all the rest of the island as my own property, and a certain rent for every particular plantation, after eleven years. As to their laws and government, I exhorted them to love one another; and as to the Indians who lived in a nook by themselves, I allotted three or four of them plantations, and the rest willingly chose to become servants to the other families, by which means they were employed in useful labour, and fared much better than they did before. Besides the savages thus mixed with the Christians, the work of their conversion might be set on foot by the latter, in the clergyman's absence, to our equal satisfaction. The young priest, however, was a little anxious lest the Christians should not be willing to do their parts in instructing these poor Indians; I therefore told him we should call them all together; that he should speak to the Spaniards who were Papists, and I to the English, who were Protestants, and make them promise that they would never make any distinction in religion, but teach the general true knowledge of God, and his son Jesus Christ, in order to convert the poor savages. And this, indeed, they all promised us accordingly.

When I came to Will Atkins's house, I found his baptized wife, and the young woman newly married to my Jack-of-all-trades, were become great intimates, and discoursing of religion together. O, Sir, says Will Atkins, when God has sinners to reconcile to himself, he never wants an instructor; I knew I was unworthy of so good a work, and therefore this young woman has been sent hither as it were from heaven, who is sufficient to convert a whole nation of savages. The young woman blushed, and was going to rise; but I desired her to sit still, and hoped that God would bless her in so good a work; and then pulling out a Bible (which I brought on purpose in my pocket for him.) Here Atkins, said I, here is an assistant that perhaps you had not before. So confounded was the poor man, that is was some time before he could speak; at last turning to his wife, My dear, he said, did I not tell you that God could hear what we said? Here's the book I prayed for, when you and I kneeled under the bush: God then heard us, and now has sent it. The woman was surprised, and thought really God had sent that individual book from heaven; but I turned to the young woman, and desired her to explain to the young convert, that God may properly be said to answer our petitions, when, in the course of his providence, such particular things came to pass as we petitioned for. This the young woman did effectually; but surely Will Atkins's joy cannot be expressed; no man being more thankful for any thing in the world, than he was for his Bible, nor desired it from a better principle.

After several religious discourses, I desired the young woman to give me an account of the anguish she felt when she was starving to death with hunger; to which she readily consented, and began in the following manner:

"Sir," said she, "all our victuals being gone, after I had fasted one day, my stomach was very sickly, and, at the approach, of night, I was inclined to yawning and sleepy. When I slept upon the couch three hours, I awaked a little refreshed: three hours after, my stomach being more and more sickly, I lay down again, but could not sleep, being very faint and ill. Thus I passed the second day with a strange variety, first hungry, then sick again, with reachings to vomit: that night I dreamed I was at Barbadoes, buying plenty of provisions; and dined heartily. But when I awaked, my spirits were exceedingly sunk, to find myself in the extremity of famine. There was but one glass of wine, which being mixed with sugar, I drank up; but for want of substance to digest upon, the fumes of it got into my head, & made me senseless for some time. The third day I was so ravenous and furious, that I could have eaten a little child if it had come in my way; during which time, I was as mad as any creature in Bedlam. In one of these fits I fell down, and struck my face against the corner of a pallet bed, where my mistress lay; the blood gushed out of my nose, but by my excessive bleeding, both the violence of the fever, and the ravenous part of the hunger abated. After this, I grew sick again, strove to vomit, but could not; then bleeding a second time, I swooned away as dead; when I came to myself, I had a dreadful gnawing pain in my stomach, which went of towards night, with a longing desire for food. I took a draught of water and sugar, but it came up again; then I drank water without sugar, and that staid with me. I laid me down on the bed, praying God would take me away: after I had slumbered, I thought myself a-dying, therefore recommended my soul to God, and wished somebody would throw me into the sea. All this while my departing mistress lay by me: the last bit of bread she had, she gave to her dear child my young master. The morning after, I fell into a violent passion of crying, and after that into hunger. I espied the blood that came from my nose in a bison, which I immediately swallowed up. At night I had the usual variations, as the pain in the stomach, sick, sleepy, and ravenous: and I had no thought but that I should die before morning. In the morning came on terrible gripings in my bowels. At this time I heard my young master's lamentations, by which I understood his mother was dead. Soon after this, the sailors cried, A sail! A sail! hallooing as if they were distracted for joy of that relief, which afterwards we received from your hands."

Surely never was a more distinct account of starving to death than this. But to return to the disposition of things among my people, I did not take any notice to them of the sloop that I had framed, neither would I leave them the two pieces of brass cannon, or the two quarter-deck guns that I had on board, lest, upon any disgust, they should have separated, or turned pirates, and so made the island a den of thieves, instead of a plantation of sober pious people: but leaving them in a flourishing condition, with a promise to send them further relief, from Brazil, as sheep, hogs, and cows (being obliged to kill the latter at sea, having no hay to feed them) I went on board the ship again, the first of May, 1695, after having been twenty days among them: and next morning, giving them a salute of five guns at parting, we set sail for the Brazils. The third day, towards evening, there happening a calm, and the current being very strong, we were drove to the N.N.E. towards the land. Some hours after, we perceived the sea covered as it were with something very black, not easily at first to be discovered: upon which our chief mate ascending the shrouds a little way, and taking a view with a perspective glass, he cries out, An army! An army! You fool, said I, what do you mean? Nay, Sir, said he, don't be angry. I assure you, it is not only an army, but a fleet, too, for I believe there are a thousand canoes paddling along, and making with great haste towards us.

Indeed every one of us were surprised at this relation; and my nephew the captain could not tell what to think of it, but thought we should all be devoured. Nor was I free from concern, when I considered how much we were becalmed, and what a strong current set towards the shore; however, I encouraged him not to be afraid, but bring the ship to an anchor as soon as we were certain that we must engage them. Accordingly we did so, and furled all our sails, as to the savages we feared nothing, but only that they might se the ship on fire; to prevent which, I ordered them to get their boats out, and fasten them, one close by the head, and the other by the stern, well manned, with skeets and buckets to extinguish the flames, should it so happen. The savages soon came up with us, but there were not so many as the mate had said, for instead of a thousand canoes there were only one hundred and twenty; too many indeed for us, several of their canoes containing about sixteen or seventeen men.

As they approached us, they seemed to be in the greatest amazement, not knowing what to make of us. They rowed round the ship, which occasioned us to call to the men in the boats, not to suffer them to come near them. Hereupon they beckoned to the savages to keep back, which they accordingly did; but at their retreat they let fly about fifty arrows among us, and very much wounded one of our men in the long-boat. I called to them not to fire upon any account, but handing them down some deal boards, the carpenters made them a kind of fence to shield them from the arrows. In half an hour after they came so near astern of us, that we had a perfect sight of them; then they rowed a little farther out, till they came directly along-side of us, and then approached so near, that they could hear us speak; this made me order all our men to keep close, and get their guns ready. In the mean time I ordered Friday to go out upon deck, and ask them in his language what they meant. No sooner did he do so, but six of the savages, who were in the foremost canoes, stooping down, showed us their naked backsides, as much as to say in English, Kiss our-: but Friday quickly knew what this meant, by immediately crying out they were going to shoot; unfortunately for him, poor creature, who fell under the cloud of three hundred arrows, no less than seven piercing through his body, killing one of the best servants, and faithfullest of companions in all my solitudes and afflictions.