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The further adventures of Robinson Crusoe - The French Clergyman's Counsel

1. Revisits Island

2. Intervening History of Colony

3. Fight with Cannibals

4. Renewed Invasion of Savages

5. A Great Victory

6. The French Clergyman's Counsel

7. Conversation Betwixt Will Atkins and his Wife

8. Sails from the Island for the Brasils

9. Dreadful Occurrences in Madagascar

10. He is Left on Shore

11. Warned of Danger by a Countryman

12. The Carpenter's Whimsical Contrivance

13. Arrival in China

14. Attacked by Tartars

15. Description of an Idol, which They Destroy

16. Safe Arrival in England







Having thus given an account of the colony in general, and pretty
much of my runagate Englishmen, I must say something of the
Spaniards, who were the main body of the family, and in whose story
there are some incidents also remarkable enough.

I had a great many discourses with them about their circumstances
when they were among the savages. They told me readily that they
had no instances to give of their application or ingenuity in that
country; that they were a poor, miserable, dejected handful of
people; that even if means had been put into their hands, yet they
had so abandoned themselves to despair, and were so sunk under the
weight of their misfortune, that they thought of nothing but
starving. One of them, a grave and sensible man, told me he was
convinced they were in the wrong; that it was not the part of wise
men to give themselves up to their misery, but always to take hold
of the helps which reason offered, as well for present support as
for future deliverance: he told me that grief was the most
senseless, insignificant passion in the world, for that it regarded
only things past, which were generally impossible to be recalled or
to be remedied, but had no views of things to come, and had no
share in anything that looked like deliverance, but rather added to
the affliction than proposed a remedy; and upon this he repeated a
Spanish proverb, which, though I cannot repeat in the same words
that he spoke it in, yet I remember I made it into an English
proverb of my own, thus:-


"In trouble to be troubled,
Is to have your trouble doubled."


He then ran on in remarks upon all the little improvements I had
made in my solitude: my unwearied application, as he called it;
and how I had made a condition, which in its circumstances was at
first much worse than theirs, a thousand times more happy than
theirs was, even now when they were all together. He told me it
was remarkable that Englishmen had a greater presence of mind in
their distress than any people that ever he met with; that their
unhappy nation and the Portuguese were the worst men in the world
to struggle with misfortunes; for that their first step in dangers,
after the common efforts were over, was to despair, lie down under
it, and die, without rousing their thoughts up to proper remedies
for escape.

I told him their case and mine differed exceedingly; that they were
cast upon the shore without necessaries, without supply of food, or
present sustenance till they could provide for it; that, it was
true, I had this further disadvantage and discomfort, that I was
alone; but then the supplies I had providentially thrown into my
hands, by the unexpected driving of the ship on the shore, was such
a help as would have encouraged any creature in the world to have
applied himself as I had done. "Seignior," says the Spaniard, "had
we poor Spaniards been in your case, we should never have got half
those things out of the ship, as you did: nay," says he, "we
should never have found means to have got a raft to carry them, or
to have got the raft on shore without boat or sail: and how much
less should we have done if any of us had been alone!" Well, I
desired him to abate his compliments, and go on with the history of
their coming on shore, where they landed. He told me they
unhappily landed at a place where there were people without
provisions; whereas, had they had the common sense to put off to
sea again, and gone to another island a little further, they had
found provisions, though without people: there being an island
that way, as they had been told, where there were provisions,
though no people--that is to say, that the Spaniards of Trinidad
had frequently been there, and had filled the island with goats and
hogs at several times, where they had bred in such multitudes, and
where turtle and sea-fowls were in such plenty, that they could
have been in no want of flesh, though they had found no bread;
whereas, here they were only sustained with a few roots and herbs,
which they understood not, and which had no substance in them, and
which the inhabitants gave them sparingly enough; and they could
treat them no better, unless they would turn cannibals and eat
men's flesh.

They gave me an account how many ways they strove to civilise the
savages they were with, and to teach them rational customs in the
ordinary way of living, but in vain; and how they retorted upon
them as unjust that they who came there for assistance and support
should attempt to set up for instructors to those that gave them
food; intimating, it seems, that none should set up for the
instructors of others but those who could live without them. They
gave me dismal accounts of the extremities they were driven to; how
sometimes they were many days without any food at all, the island
they were upon being inhabited by a sort of savages that lived more
indolent, and for that reason were less supplied with the
necessaries of life, than they had reason to believe others were in
the same part of the world; and yet they found that these savages
were less ravenous and voracious than those who had better supplies
of food. Also, they added, they could not but see with what
demonstrations of wisdom and goodness the governing providence of
God directs the events of things in this world, which, they said,
appeared in their circumstances: for if, pressed by the hardships
they were under, and the barrenness of the country where they were,
they had searched after a better to live in, they had then been out
of the way of the relief that happened to them by my means.

They then gave me an account how the savages whom they lived
amongst expected them to go out with them into their wars; and, it
was true, that as they had firearms with them, had they not had the
disaster to lose their ammunition, they could have been serviceable
not only to their friends, but have made themselves terrible both
to friends and enemies; but being without powder and shot, and yet
in a condition that they could not in reason decline to go out with
their landlords to their wars; so when they came into the field of
battle they were in a worse condition than the savages themselves,
for they had neither bows nor arrows, nor could they use those the
savages gave them. So they could do nothing but stand still and be
wounded with arrows, till they came up to the teeth of the enemy;
and then, indeed, the three halberds they had were of use to them;
and they would often drive a whole little army before them with
those halberds, and sharpened sticks put into the muzzles of their
muskets. But for all this they were sometimes surrounded with
multitudes, and in great danger from their arrows, till at last
they found the way to make themselves large targets of wood, which
they covered with skins of wild beasts, whose names they knew not,
and these covered them from the arrows of the savages: that,
notwithstanding these, they were sometimes in great danger; and
five of them were once knocked down together with the clubs of the
savages, which was the time when one of them was taken prisoner--
that is to say, the Spaniard whom I relieved. At first they
thought he had been killed; but when they afterwards heard he was
taken prisoner, they were under the greatest grief imaginable, and
would willingly have all ventured their lives to have rescued him.

They told me that when they were so knocked down, the rest of their
company rescued them, and stood over them fighting till they were
come to themselves, all but him whom they thought had been dead;
and then they made their way with their halberds and pieces,
standing close together in a line, through a body of above a
thousand savages, beating down all that came in their way, got the
victory over their enemies, but to their great sorrow, because it
was with the loss of their friend, whom the other party finding
alive, carried off with some others, as I gave an account before.
They described, most affectionately, how they were surprised with
joy at the return of their friend and companion in misery, who they
thought had been devoured by wild beasts of the worst kind--wild
men; and yet, how more and more they were surprised with the
account he gave them of his errand, and that there was a Christian
in any place near, much more one that was able, and had humanity
enough, to contribute to their deliverance.

They described how they were astonished at the sight of the relief
I sent them, and at the appearance of loaves of bread--things they
had not seen since their coming to that miserable place; how often
they crossed it and blessed it as bread sent from heaven; and what
a reviving cordial it was to their spirits to taste it, as also the
other things I had sent for their supply; and, after all, they
would have told me something of the joy they were in at the sight
of a boat and pilots, to carry them away to the person and place
from whence all these new comforts came. But it was impossible to
express it by words, for their excessive joy naturally driving them
to unbecoming extravagances, they had no way to describe them but
by telling me they bordered upon lunacy, having no way to give vent
to their passions suitable to the sense that was upon them; that in
some it worked one way and in some another; and that some of them,
through a surprise of joy, would burst into tears, others be stark
mad, and others immediately faint. This discourse extremely
affected me, and called to my mind Friday's ecstasy when he met his
father, and the poor people's ecstasy when I took them up at sea
after their ship was on fire; the joy of the mate of the ship when
he found himself delivered in the place where he expected to
perish; and my own joy, when, after twenty-eight years' captivity,
I found a good ship ready to carry me to my own country. All these
things made me more sensible of the relation of these poor men, and
more affected with it.

Having thus given a view of the state of things as I found them, I
must relate the heads of what I did for these people, and the
condition in which I left them. It was their opinion, and mine
too, that they would be troubled no more with the savages, or if
they were, they would be able to cut them off, if they were twice
as many as before; so they had no concern about that. Then I
entered into a serious discourse with the Spaniard, whom I call
governor, about their stay in the island; for as I was not come to
carry any of them off, so it would not be just to carry off some
and leave others, who, perhaps, would be unwilling to stay if their
strength was diminished. On the other hand, I told them I came to
establish them there, not to remove them; and then I let them know
that I had brought with me relief of sundry kinds for them; that I
had been at a great charge to supply them with all things
necessary, as well for their convenience as their defence; and that
I had such and such particular persons with me, as well to increase
and recruit their number, as by the particular necessary
employments which they were bred to, being artificers, to assist
them in those things in which at present they were in want.

They were all together when I talked thus to them; and before I
delivered to them the stores I had brought, I asked them, one by
one, if they had entirely forgot and buried the first animosities
that had been among them, and would shake hands with one another,
and engage in a strict friendship and union of interest, that so
there might be no more misunderstandings and jealousies.

Will Atkins, with abundance of frankness and good humour, said they
had met with affliction enough to make them all sober, and enemies
enough to make them all friends; that, for his part, he would live
and die with them, and was so far from designing anything against
the Spaniards, that he owned they had done nothing to him but what
his own mad humour made necessary, and what he would have done, and
perhaps worse, in their case; and that he would ask them pardon, if
I desired it, for the foolish and brutish things he had done to
them, and was very willing and desirous of living in terms of
entire friendship and union with them, and would do anything that
lay in his power to convince them of it; and as for going to
England, he cared not if he did not go thither these twenty years.

The Spaniards said they had, indeed, at first disarmed and excluded
Will Atkins and his two countrymen for their ill conduct, as they
had let me know, and they appealed to me for the necessity they
were under to do so; but that Will Atkins had behaved himself so
bravely in the great fight they had with the savages, and on
several occasions since, and had showed himself so faithful to, and
concerned for, the general interest of them all, that they had
forgotten all that was past, and thought he merited as much to be
trusted with arms and supplied with necessaries as any of them;
that they had testified their satisfaction in him by committing the
command to him next to the governor himself; and as they had entire
confidence in him and all his countrymen, so they acknowledged they
had merited that confidence by all the methods that honest men
could merit to be valued and trusted; and they most heartily
embraced the occasion of giving me this assurance, that they would
never have any interest separate from one another.

Upon these frank and open declarations of friendship, we appointed
the next day to dine all together; and, indeed, we made a splendid
feast. I caused the ship's cook and his mate to come on shore and
dress our dinner, and the old cook's mate we had on shore assisted.
We brought on shore six pieces of good beef and four pieces of
pork, out of the ship's provisions, with our punch-bowl and
materials to fill it; and in particular I gave them ten bottles of
French claret, and ten bottles of English beer; things that neither
the Spaniards nor the English had tasted for many years, and which
it may be supposed they were very glad of. The Spaniards added to
our feast five whole kids, which the cooks roasted; and three of
them were sent, covered up close, on board the ship to the seamen,
that they might feast on fresh meat from on shore, as we did with
their salt meat from on board.

After this feast, at which we were very innocently merry, I brought
my cargo of goods; wherein, that there might be no dispute about
dividing, I showed them that there was a sufficiency for them all,
desiring that they might all take an equal quantity, when made up,
of the goods that were for wearing. As, first, I distributed linen
sufficient to make every one of them four shirts, and, at the
Spaniard's request, afterwards made them up six; these were
exceeding comfortable to them, having been what they had long since
forgot the use of, or what it was to wear them. I allotted the
thin English stuffs, which I mentioned before, to make every one a
light coat, like a frock, which I judged fittest for the heat of
the season, cool and loose; and ordered that whenever they decayed,
they should make more, as they thought fit; the like for pumps,
shoes, stockings, hats, &c. I cannot express what pleasure sat
upon the countenances of all these poor men when they saw the care
I had taken of them, and how well I had furnished them. They told
me I was a father to them; and that having such a correspondent as
I was in so remote a part of the world, it would make them forget
that they were left in a desolate place; and they all voluntarily
engaged to me not to leave the place without my consent.

Then I presented to them the people I had brought with me,
particularly the tailor, the smith, and the two carpenters, all of
them most necessary people; but, above all, my general artificer,
than whom they could not name anything that was more useful to
them; and the tailor, to show his concern for them, went to work
immediately, and, with my leave, made them every one a shirt, the
first thing he did; and, what was still more, he taught the women
not only how to sew and stitch, and use the needle, but made them
assist to make the shirts for their husbands, and for all the rest.
As to the carpenters, I scarce need mention how useful they were;
for they took to pieces all my clumsy, unhandy things, and made
clever convenient tables, stools, bedsteads, cupboards, lockers,
shelves, and everything they wanted of that kind. But to let them
see how nature made artificers at first, I carried the carpenters
to see Will Atkins' basket-house, as I called it; and they both
owned they never saw an instance of such natural ingenuity before,
nor anything so regular and so handily built, at least of its kind;
and one of them, when he saw it, after musing a good while, turning
about to me, "I am sure," says he, "that man has no need of us; you
need do nothing but give him tools."

Then I brought them out all my store of tools, and gave every man a
digging-spade, a shovel, and a rake, for we had no barrows or
ploughs; and to every separate place a pickaxe, a crow, a broad
axe, and a saw; always appointing, that as often as any were broken
or worn out, they should be supplied without grudging out of the
general stores that I left behind. Nails, staples, hinges,
hammers, chisels, knives, scissors, and all sorts of ironwork, they
had without reserve, as they required; for no man would take more
than he wanted, and he must be a fool that would waste or spoil
them on any account whatever; and for the use of the smith I left
two tons of unwrought iron for a supply.

My magazine of powder and arms which I brought them was such, even
to profusion, that they could not but rejoice at them; for now they
could march as I used to do, with a musket upon each shoulder, if
there was occasion; and were able to fight a thousand savages, if
they had but some little advantages of situation, which also they
could not miss, if they had occasion.

I carried on shore with me the young man whose mother was starved
to death, and the maid also; she was a sober, well-educated,
religious young woman, and behaved so inoffensively that every one
gave her a good word; she had, indeed, an unhappy life with us,
there being no woman in the ship but herself, but she bore it with
patience. After a while, seeing things so well ordered, and in so
fine a way of thriving upon my island, and considering that they
had neither business nor acquaintance in the East Indies, or reason
for taking so long a voyage, both of them came to me and desired I
would give them leave to remain on the island, and be entered among
my family, as they called it. I agreed to this readily; and they
had a little plot of ground allotted to them, where they had three
tents or houses set up, surrounded with a basket-work, palisadoed
like Atkins's, adjoining to his plantation. Their tents were
contrived so that they had each of them a room apart to lodge in,
and a middle tent like a great storehouse to lay their goods in,
and to eat and to drink in. And now the other two Englishmen
removed their habitation to the same place; and so the island was
divided into three colonies, and no more--viz. the Spaniards, with
old Friday and the first servants, at my habitation under the hill,
which was, in a word, the capital city, and where they had so
enlarged and extended their works, as well under as on the outside
of the hill, that they lived, though perfectly concealed, yet full
at large. Never was there such a little city in a wood, and so
hid, in any part of the world; for I verify believe that a thousand
men might have ranged the island a month, and, if they had not
known there was such a thing, and looked on purpose for it, they
would not have found it. Indeed the trees stood so thick and so
close, and grew so fast woven one into another, that nothing but
cutting them down first could discover the place, except the only
two narrow entrances where they went in and out could be found,
which was not very easy; one of them was close down at the water's
edge, on the side of the creek, and it was afterwards above two
hundred yards to the place; and the other was up a ladder at twice,
as I have already described it; and they had also a large wood,
thickly planted, on the top of the hill, containing above an acre,
which grew apace, and concealed the place from all discovery there,
with only one narrow place between two trees, not easily to be
discovered, to enter on that side.

The other colony was that of Will Atkins, where there were four
families of Englishmen, I mean those I had left there, with their
wives and children; three savages that were slaves, the widow and
children of the Englishman that was killed, the young man and the
maid, and, by the way, we made a wife of her before we went away.
There were besides the two carpenters and the tailor, whom I
brought with me for them: also the smith, who was a very necessary
man to them, especially as a gunsmith, to take care of their arms;
and my other man, whom I called Jack-of-all-trades, who was in
himself as good almost as twenty men; for he was not only a very
ingenious fellow, but a very merry fellow, and before I went away
we married him to the honest maid that came with the youth in the
ship I mentioned before.

And now I speak of marrying, it brings me naturally to say
something of the French ecclesiastic that I had brought with me out
of the ship's crew whom I took up at sea. It is true this man was
a Roman, and perhaps it may give offence to some hereafter if I
leave anything extraordinary upon record of a man whom, before I
begin, I must (to set him out in just colours) represent in terms
very much to his disadvantage, in the account of Protestants; as,
first, that he was a Papist; secondly, a Popish priest; and
thirdly, a French Popish priest. But justice demands of me to give
him a due character; and I must say, he was a grave, sober, pious,
and most religious person; exact in his life, extensive in his
charity, and exemplary in almost everything he did. What then can
any one say against being very sensible of the value of such a man,
notwithstanding his profession? though it may be my opinion
perhaps, as well as the opinion of others who shall read this, that
he was mistaken.

The first hour that I began to converse with him after he had
agreed to go with me to the East Indies, I found reason to delight
exceedingly in his conversation; and he first began with me about
religion in the most obliging manner imaginable. "Sir," says he,
"you have not only under God" (and at that he crossed his breast)
"saved my life, but you have admitted me to go this voyage in your
ship, and by your obliging civility have taken me into your family,
giving me an opportunity of free conversation. Now, sir, you see
by my habit what my profession is, and I guess by your nation what
yours is; I may think it is my duty, and doubtless it is so, to use
my utmost endeavours, on all occasions, to bring all the souls I
can to the knowledge of the truth, and to embrace the Catholic
doctrine; but as I am here under your permission, and in your
family, I am bound, in justice to your kindness as well as in
decency and good manners, to be under your government; and
therefore I shall not, without your leave, enter into any debate on
the points of religion in which we may not agree, further than you
shall give me leave."

I told him his carriage was so modest that I could not but
acknowledge it; that it was true we were such people as they call
heretics, but that he was not the first Catholic I had conversed
with without falling into inconveniences, or carrying the questions
to any height in debate; that he should not find himself the worse
used for being of a different opinion from us, and if we did not
converse without any dislike on either side, it should be his
fault, not ours.

He replied that he thought all our conversation might be easily
separated from disputes; that it was not his business to cap
principles with every man he conversed with; and that he rather
desired me to converse with him as a gentleman than as a
religionist; and that, if I would give him leave at any time to
discourse upon religious subjects, he would readily comply with it,
and that he did not doubt but I would allow him also to defend his
own opinions as well as he could; but that without my leave he
would not break in upon me with any such thing. He told me
further, that he would not cease to do all that became him, in his
office as a priest, as well as a private Christian, to procure the
good of the ship, and the safety of all that was in her; and
though, perhaps, we would not join with him, and he could not pray
with us, he hoped he might pray for us, which he would do upon all
occasions. In this manner we conversed; and as he was of the most
obliging, gentlemanlike behaviour, so he was, if I may be allowed
to say so, a man of good sense, and, as I believe, of great
learning.

He gave me a most diverting account of his life, and of the many
extraordinary events of it; of many adventures which had befallen
him in the few years that he had been abroad in the world; and
particularly, it was very remarkable, that in the voyage he was now
engaged in he had had the misfortune to be five times shipped and
unshipped, and never to go to the place whither any of the ships he
was in were at first designed. That his first intent was to have
gone to Martinico, and that he went on board a ship bound thither
at St. Malo; but being forced into Lisbon by bad weather, the ship
received some damage by running aground in the mouth of the river
Tagus, and was obliged to unload her cargo there; but finding a
Portuguese ship there bound for the Madeiras, and ready to sail,
and supposing he should meet with a ship there bound to Martinico,
he went on board, in order to sail to the Madeiras; but the master
of the Portuguese ship being but an indifferent mariner, had been
out of his reckoning, and they drove to Fayal; where, however, he
happened to find a very good market for his cargo, which was corn,
and therefore resolved not to go to the Madeiras, but to load salt
at the Isle of May, and to go away to Newfoundland. He had no
remedy in this exigence but to go with the ship, and had a pretty
good voyage as far as the Banks (so they call the place where they
catch the fish), where, meeting with a French ship bound from
France to Quebec, and from thence to Martinico, to carry
provisions, he thought he should have an opportunity to complete
his first design, but when he came to Quebec, the master of the
ship died, and the vessel proceeded no further; so the next voyage
he shipped himself for France, in the ship that was burned when we
took them up at sea, and then shipped with us for the East Indies,
as I have already said. Thus he had been disappointed in five
voyages; all, as I may call it, in one voyage, besides what I shall
have occasion to mention further of him.

But I shall not make digression into other men's stories which have
no relation to my own; so I return to what concerns our affair in
the island. He came to me one morning (for he lodged among us all
the while we were upon the island), and it happened to be just when
I was going to visit the Englishmen's colony, at the furthest part
of the island; I say, he came to me, and told me, with a very grave
countenance, that he had for two or three days desired an
opportunity of some discourse with me, which he hoped would not be
displeasing to me, because he thought it might in some measure
correspond with my general design, which was the prosperity of my
new colony, and perhaps might put it, at least more than he yet
thought it was, in the way of God's blessing.

I looked a little surprised at the last of his discourse, and
turning a little short, "How, sir," said I, "can it be said that we
are not in the way of God's blessing, after such visible
assistances and deliverances as we have seen here, and of which I
have given you a large account?" "If you had pleased, sir," said
he, with a world of modesty, and yet great readiness, "to have
heard me, you would have found no room to have been displeased,
much less to think so hard of me, that I should suggest that you
have not had wonderful assistances and deliverances; and I hope, on
your behalf, that you are in the way of God's blessing, and your
design is exceeding good, and will prosper. But, sir, though it
were more so than is even possible to you, yet there may be some
among you that are not equally right in their actions: and you
know that in the story of the children of Israel, one Achan in the
camp removed God's blessing from them, and turned His hand so
against them, that six-and-thirty of them, though not concerned in
the crime, were the objects of divine vengeance, and bore the
weight of that punishment."

I was sensibly touched with this discourse, and told him his
inference was so just, and the whole design seemed so sincere, and
was really so religious in its own nature, that I was very sorry I
had interrupted him, and begged him to go on; and, in the meantime,
because it seemed that what we had both to say might take up some
time, I told him I was going to the Englishmen's plantations, and
asked him to go with me, and we might discourse of it by the way.
He told me he would the more willingly wait on me thither, because
there partly the thing was acted which he desired to speak to me
about; so we walked on, and I pressed him to be free and plain with
me in what he had to say.

"Why, then, sir," said he, "be pleased to give me leave to lay down
a few propositions, as the foundation of what I have to say, that
we may not differ in the general principles, though we may be of
some differing opinions in the practice of particulars. First,
sir, though we differ in some of the doctrinal articles of religion
(and it is very unhappy it is so, especially in the case before us,
as I shall show afterwards), yet there are some general principles
in which we both agree--that there is a God; and that this God
having given us some stated general rules for our service and
obedience, we ought not willingly and knowingly to offend Him,
either by neglecting to do what He has commanded, or by doing what
He has expressly forbidden. And let our different religions be
what they will, this general principle is readily owned by us all,
that the blessing of God does not ordinarily follow presumptuous
sinning against His command; and every good Christian will be
affectionately concerned to prevent any that are under his care
living in a total neglect of God and His commands. It is not your
men being Protestants, whatever my opinion may be of such, that
discharges me from being concerned for their souls, and from
endeavouring, if it lies before me, that they should live in as
little distance from enmity with their Maker as possible,
especially if you give me leave to meddle so far in your circuit."

I could not yet imagine what he aimed at, and told him I granted
all he had said, and thanked him that he would so far concern
himself for us: and begged he would explain the particulars of
what he had observed, that like Joshua, to take his own parable, I
might put away the accursed thing from us.

"Why, then, sir," says he, "I will take the liberty you give me;
and there are three things, which, if I am right, must stand in the
way of God's blessing upon your endeavours here, and which I should
rejoice, for your sake and their own, to see removed. And, sir, I
promise myself that you will fully agree with me in them all, as
soon as I name them; especially because I shall convince you, that
every one of them may, with great ease, and very much to your
satisfaction, be remedied. First, sir," says he, "you have here
four Englishmen, who have fetched women from among the savages, and
have taken them as their wives, and have had many children by them
all, and yet are not married to them after any stated legal manner,
as the laws of God and man require. To this, sir, I know, you will
object that there was no clergyman or priest of any kind to perform
the ceremony; nor any pen and ink, or paper, to write down a
contract of marriage, and have it signed between them. And I know
also, sir, what the Spaniard governor has told you, I mean of the
agreement that he obliged them to make when they took those women,
viz. that they should choose them out by consent, and keep
separately to them; which, by the way, is nothing of a marriage, no
agreement with the women as wives, but only an agreement among
themselves, to keep them from quarrelling. But, sir, the essence
of the sacrament of matrimony" (so he called it, being a Roman)
"consists not only in the mutual consent of the parties to take one
another as man and wife, but in the formal and legal obligation
that there is in the contract to compel the man and woman, at all
times, to own and acknowledge each other; obliging the man to
abstain from all other women, to engage in no other contract while
these subsist; and, on all occasions, as ability allows, to provide
honestly for them and their children; and to oblige the women to
the same or like conditions, on their side. Now, sir," says he,
"these men may, when they please, or when occasion presents,
abandon these women, disown their children, leave them to perish,
and take other women, and marry them while these are living;" and
here he added, with some warmth, "How, sir, is God honoured in this
unlawful liberty? And how shall a blessing succeed your endeavours
in this place, however good in themselves, and however sincere in
your design, while these men, who at present are your subjects,
under your absolute government and dominion, are allowed by you to
live in open adultery?"

I confess I was struck with the thing itself, but much more with
the convincing arguments he supported it with; but I thought to
have got off my young priest by telling him that all that part was
done when I was not there: and that they had lived so many years
with them now, that if it was adultery, it was past remedy; nothing
could be done in it now.

"Sir," says he, "asking your pardon for such freedom, you are right
in this, that, it being done in your absence, you could not be
charged with that part of the crime; but, I beseech you, flatter
not yourself that you are not, therefore, under an obligation to do
your utmost now to put an end to it. You should legally and
effectually marry them; and as, sir, my way of marrying may not be
easy to reconcile them to, though it will be effectual, even by
your own laws, so your way may be as well before God, and as valid
among men. I mean by a written contract signed by both man and
woman, and by all the witnesses present, which all the laws of
Europe would decree to be valid."

I was amazed to see so much true piety, and so much sincerity of
zeal, besides the unusual impartiality in his discourse as to his
own party or church, and such true warmth for preserving people
that he had no knowledge of or relation to from transgressing the
laws of God. But recollecting what he had said of marrying them by
a written contract, which I knew he would stand to, I returned it
back upon him, and told him I granted all that he had said to be
just, and on his part very kind; that I would discourse with the
men upon the point now, when I came to them; and I knew no reason
why they should scruple to let him marry them all, which I knew
well enough would be granted to be as authentic and valid in
England as if they were married by one of our own clergymen.

I then pressed him to tell me what was the second complaint which
he had to make, acknowledging that I was very much his debtor for
the first, and thanking him heartily for it. He told me he would
use the same freedom and plainness in the second, and hoped I would
take it as well; and this was, that notwithstanding these English
subjects of mine, as he called them, had lived with these women
almost seven years, had taught them to speak English, and even to
read it, and that they were, as he perceived, women of tolerable
understanding, and capable of instruction, yet they had not, to
this hour, taught them anything of the Christian religion--no, not
so much as to know there was a God, or a worship, or in what manner
God was to be served, or that their own idolatry, and worshipping
they knew not whom, was false and absurd. This he said was an
unaccountable neglect, and what God would certainly call them to
account for, and perhaps at last take the work out of their hands.
He spoke this very affectionately and warmly.

"I am persuaded," says he, "had those men lived in the savage
country whence their wives came, the savages would have taken more
pains to have brought them to be idolaters, and to worship the
devil, than any of these men, so far as I can see, have taken with
them to teach the knowledge of the true God. Now, sir," said he,
"though I do not acknowledge your religion, or you mine, yet we
would be glad to see the devil's servants and the subjects of his
kingdom taught to know religion; and that they might, at least,
hear of God and a Redeemer, and the resurrection, and of a future
state--things which we all believe; that they might, at least, be
so much nearer coming into the bosom of the true Church than they
are now in the public profession of idolatry and devil-worship."

I could hold no longer: I took him in my arms and embraced him
eagerly. "How far," said I to him, "have I been from understanding
the most essential part of a Christian, viz. to love the interest
of the Christian Church, and the good of other men's souls! I
scarce have known what belongs to the being a Christian."--"Oh,
sir! do not say so," replied he; "this thing is not your fault."--
"No," said I; "but why did I never lay it to heart as well as
you?"--"It is not too late yet," said he; "be not too forward to
condemn yourself."--"But what can be done now?" said I: "you see I
am going away."--"Will you give me leave to talk with these poor
men about it?"--"Yes, with all my heart," said I: "and oblige them
to give heed to what you say too."--"As to that," said he, "we must
leave them to the mercy of Christ; but it is your business to
assist them, encourage them, and instruct them; and if you give me
leave, and God His blessing, I do not doubt but the poor ignorant
souls shall be brought home to the great circle of Christianity, if
not into the particular faith we all embrace, and that even while
you stay here." Upon this I said, "I shall not only give you
leave, but give you a thousand thanks for it."

I now pressed him for the third article in which we were to blame.
"Why, really," says he, "it is of the same nature. It is about
your poor savages, who are, as I may say, your conquered subjects.
It is a maxim, sir, that is or ought to be received among all
Christians, of what church or pretended church soever, that the
Christian knowledge ought to be propagated by all possible means
and on all possible occasions. It is on this principle that our
Church sends missionaries into Persia, India, and China; and that
our clergy, even of the superior sort, willingly engage in the most
hazardous voyages, and the most dangerous residence amongst
murderers and barbarians, to teach them the knowledge of the true
God, and to bring them over to embrace the Christian faith. Now,
sir, you have such an opportunity here to have six or seven and
thirty poor savages brought over from a state of idolatry to the
knowledge of God, their Maker and Redeemer, that I wonder how you
can pass such an occasion of doing good, which is really worth the
expense of a man's whole life."

I was now struck dumb indeed, and had not one word to say. I had
here the spirit of true Christian zeal for God and religion before
me. As for me, I had not so much as entertained a thought of this
in my heart before, and I believe I should not have thought of it;
for I looked upon these savages as slaves, and people whom, had we
not had any work for them to do, we would have used as such, or
would have been glad to have transported them to any part of the
world; for our business was to get rid of them, and we would all
have been satisfied if they had been sent to any country, so they
had never seen their own. I was confounded at his discourse, and
knew not what answer to make him.

He looked earnestly at me, seeing my confusion. "Sir," says he, "I
shall be very sorry if what I have said gives you any offence."--
"No, no," said I, "I am offended with nobody but myself; but I am
perfectly confounded, not only to think that I should never take
any notice of this before, but with reflecting what notice I am
able to take of it now. You know, sir," said I, "what
circumstances I am in; I am bound to the East Indies in a ship
freighted by merchants, and to whom it would be an insufferable
piece of injustice to detain their ship here, the men lying all
this while at victuals and wages on the owners' account. It is
true, I agreed to be allowed twelve days here, and if I stay more,
I must pay three pounds sterling per diem demurrage; nor can I stay
upon demurrage above eight days more, and I have been here thirteen
already; so that I am perfectly unable to engage in this work
unless I would suffer myself to be left behind here again; in which
case, if this single ship should miscarry in any part of her
voyage, I should be just in the same condition that I was left in
here at first, and from which I have been so wonderfully
delivered." He owned the case was very hard upon me as to my
voyage; but laid it home upon my conscience whether the blessing of
saving thirty-seven souls was not worth venturing all I had in the
world for. I was not so sensible of that as he was. I replied to
him thus: "Why, sir, it is a valuable thing, indeed, to be an
instrument in God's hand to convert thirty-seven heathens to the
knowledge of Christ: but as you are an ecclesiastic, and are given
over to the work, so it seems so naturally to fall in the way of
your profession; how is it, then, that you do not rather offer
yourself to undertake it than to press me to do it?"

Upon this he faced about just before me, as he walked along, and
putting me to a full stop, made me a very low bow. "I most
heartily thank God and you, sir," said he, "for giving me so
evident a call to so blessed a work; and if you think yourself
discharged from it, and desire me to undertake it, I will most
readily do it, and think it a happy reward for all the hazards and
difficulties of such a broken, disappointed voyage as I have met
with, that I am dropped at last into so glorious a work."

I discovered a kind of rapture in his face while he spoke this to
me; his eyes sparkled like fire; his face glowed, and his colour
came and went; in a word, he was fired with the joy of being
embarked in such a work. I paused a considerable while before I
could tell what to say to him; for I was really surprised to find a
man of such sincerity, and who seemed possessed of a zeal beyond
the ordinary rate of men. But after I had considered it a while, I
asked him seriously if he was in earnest, and that he would
venture, on the single consideration of an attempt to convert those
poor people, to be locked up in an unplanted island for perhaps his
life, and at last might not know whether he should be able to do
them good or not? He turned short upon me, and asked me what I
called a venture? "Pray, sir," said he, "what do you think I
consented to go in your ship to the East Indies for?"--"ay," said
I, "that I know not, unless it was to preach to the Indians."--
"Doubtless it was," said he; "and do you think, if I can convert
these thirty-seven men to the faith of Jesus Christ, it is not
worth my time, though I should never be fetched off the island
again?--nay, is it not infinitely of more worth to save so many
souls than my life is, or the life of twenty more of the same
profession? Yes, sir," says he, "I would give God thanks all my
days if I could be made the happy instrument of saving the souls of
those poor men, though I were never to get my foot off this island
or see my native country any more. But since you will honour me
with putting me into this work, for which I will pray for you all
the days of my life, I have one humble petition to you besides."--
"What is that?" said I.--"Why," says he, "it is, that you will
leave your man Friday with me, to be my interpreter to them, and to
assist me; for without some help I cannot speak to them, or they to
me."

I was sensibly touched at his requesting Friday, because I could
not think of parting with him, and that for many reasons: he had
been the companion of my travels; he was not only faithful to me,
but sincerely affectionate to the last degree; and I had resolved
to do something considerable for him if he out-lived me, as it was
probable he would. Then I knew that, as I had bred Friday up to be
a Protestant, it would quite confound him to bring him to embrace
another religion; and he would never, while his eyes were open,
believe that his old master was a heretic, and would be damned; and
this might in the end ruin the poor fellow's principles, and so
turn him back again to his first idolatry. However, a sudden
thought relieved me in this strait, and it was this: I told him I
could not say that I was willing to part with Friday on any account
whatever, though a work that to him was of more value than his life
ought to be of much more value than the keeping or parting with a
servant. On the other hand, I was persuaded that Friday would by
no means agree to part with me; and I could not force him to it
without his consent, without manifest injustice; because I had
promised I would never send him away, and he had promised and
engaged that he would never leave me, unless I sent him away.

He seemed very much concerned at it, for he had no rational access
to these poor people, seeing he did not understand one word of
their language, nor they one of his. To remove this difficulty, I
told him Friday's father had learned Spanish, which I found he also
understood, and he should serve him as an interpreter. So he was
much better satisfied, and nothing could persuade him but he would
stay and endeavour to convert them; but Providence gave another
very happy turn to all this.

I come back now to the first part of his objections. When we came
to the Englishmen, I sent for them all together, and after some
account given them of what I had done for them, viz. what necessary
things I had provided for them, and how they were distributed,
which they were very sensible of, and very thankful for, I began to
talk to them of the scandalous life they led, and gave them a full
account of the notice the clergyman had taken of it; and arguing
how unchristian and irreligious a life it was, I first asked them
if they were married men or bachelors? They soon explained their
condition to me, and showed that two of them were widowers, and the
other three were single men, or bachelors. I asked them with what
conscience they could take these women, and call them their wives,
and have so many children by them, and not be lawfully married to
them? They all gave me the answer I expected, viz. that there was
nobody to marry them; that they agreed before the governor to keep
them as their wives, and to maintain them and own them as their
wives; and they thought, as things stood with them, they were as
legally married as if they had been married by a parson and with
all the formalities in the world.

I told them that no doubt they were married in the sight of God,
and were bound in conscience to keep them as their wives; but that
the laws of men being otherwise, they might desert the poor women
and children hereafter; and that their wives, being poor desolate
women, friendless and moneyless, would have no way to help
themselves. I therefore told them that unless I was assured of
their honest intent, I could do nothing for them, but would take
care that what I did should be for the women and children without
them; and that, unless they would give me some assurances that they
would marry the women, I could not think it was convenient they
should continue together as man and wife; for that it was both
scandalous to men and offensive to God, who they could not think
would bless them if they went on thus.

All this went on as I expected; and they told me, especially Will
Atkins, who now seemed to speak for the rest, that they loved their
wives as well as if they had been born in their own native country,
and would not leave them on any account whatever; and they did
verily believe that their wives were as virtuous and as modest, and
did, to the utmost of their skill, as much for them and for their
children, as any woman could possibly do: and they would not part
with them on any account. Will Atkins, for his own particular,
added that if any man would take him away, and offer to carry him
home to England, and make him captain of the best man-of-war in the
navy, he would not go with him if he might not carry his wife and
children with him; and if there was a clergyman in the ship, he
would be married to her now with all his heart.

This was just as I would have it. The priest was not with me at
that moment, but he was not far off; so to try him further, I told
him I had a clergyman with me, and, if he was sincere, I would have
him married next morning, and bade him consider of it, and talk
with the rest. He said, as for himself, he need not consider of it
at all, for he was very ready to do it, and was glad I had a
minister with me, and he believed they would be all willing also.
I then told him that my friend, the minister, was a Frenchman, and
could not speak English, but I would act the clerk between them.
He never so much as asked me whether he was a Papist or Protestant,
which was, indeed, what I was afraid of. We then parted, and I
went back to my clergyman, and Will Atkins went in to talk with his
companions. I desired the French gentleman not to say anything to
them till the business was thoroughly ripe; and I told him what
answer the men had given me.

Before I went from their quarter they all came to me and told me
they had been considering what I had said; that they were glad to
hear I had a clergyman in my company, and they were very willing to
give me the satisfaction I desired, and to be formally married as
soon as I pleased; for they were far from desiring to part with
their wives, and that they meant nothing but what was very honest
when they chose them. So I appointed them to meet me the next
morning; and, in the meantime, they should let their wives know the
meaning of the marriage law; and that it was not only to prevent
any scandal, but also to oblige them that they should not forsake
them, whatever might happen.

The women were easily made sensible of the meaning of the thing,
and were very well satisfied with it, as, indeed, they had reason
to be: so they failed not to attend all together at my apartment
next morning, where I brought out my clergyman; and though he had
not on a minister's gown, after the manner of England, or the habit
of a priest, after the manner of France, yet having a black vest
something like a cassock, with a sash round it, he did not look
very unlike a minister; and as for his language, I was his
interpreter. But the seriousness of his behaviour to them, and the
scruples he made of marrying the women, because they were not
baptized and professed Christians, gave them an exceeding reverence
for his person; and there was no need, after that, to inquire
whether he was a clergyman or not. Indeed, I was afraid his
scruples would have been carried so far as that he would not have
married them at all; nay, notwithstanding all I was able to say to
him, he resisted me, though modestly, yet very steadily, and at
last refused absolutely to marry them, unless he had first talked
with the men and the women too; and though at first I was a little
backward to it, yet at last I agreed to it with a good will,
perceiving the sincerity of his design.

When he came to them he let them know that I had acquainted him
with their circumstances, and with the present design; that he was
very willing to perform that part of his function, and marry them,
as I had desired; but that before he could do it, he must take the
liberty to talk with them. He told them that in the sight of all
indifferent men, and in the sense of the laws of society, they had
lived all this while in a state of sin; and that it was true that
nothing but the consenting to marry, or effectually separating them
from one another, could now put an end to it; but there was a
difficulty in it, too, with respect to the laws of Christian
matrimony, which he was not fully satisfied about, that of marrying
one that is a professed Christian to a savage, an idolater, and a
heathen--one that is not baptized; and yet that he did not see that
there was time left to endeavour to persuade the women to be
baptized, or to profess the name of Christ, whom they had, he
doubted, heard nothing of, and without which they could not be
baptized. He told them he doubted they were but indifferent
Christians themselves; that they had but little knowledge of God or
of His ways, and, therefore, he could not expect that they had said
much to their wives on that head yet; but that unless they would
promise him to use their endeavours with their wives to persuade
them to become Christians, and would, as well as they could,
instruct them in the knowledge and belief of God that made them,
and to worship Jesus Christ that redeemed them, he could not marry
them; for he would have no hand in joining Christians with savages,
nor was it consistent with the principles of the Christian
religion, and was, indeed, expressly forbidden in God's law.

They heard all this very attentively, and I delivered it very
faithfully to them from his mouth, as near his own words as I
could; only sometimes adding something of my own, to convince them
how just it was, and that I was of his mind; and I always very
carefully distinguished between what I said from myself and what
were the clergyman's words. They told me it was very true what the
gentleman said, that they were very indifferent Christians
themselves, and that they had never talked to their wives about
religion. "Lord, sir," says Will Atkins, "how should we teach them
religion? Why, we know nothing ourselves; and besides, sir," said
he, "should we talk to them of God and Jesus Christ, and heaven and
hell, it would make them laugh at us, and ask us what we believe
ourselves. And if we should tell them that we believe all the
things we speak of to them, such as of good people going to heaven,
and wicked people to the devil, they would ask us where we intend
to go ourselves, that believe all this, and are such wicked fellows
as we indeed are? Why, sir; 'tis enough to give them a surfeit of
religion at first hearing; folks must have some religion themselves
before they begin to teach other people."--"Will Atkins," said I to
him, "though I am afraid that what you say has too much truth in
it, yet can you not tell your wife she is in the wrong; that there
is a God and a religion better than her own; that her gods are
idols; that they can neither hear nor speak; that there is a great
Being that made all things, and that can destroy all that He has
made; that He rewards the good and punishes the bad; and that we
are to be judged by Him at last for all we do here? You are not so
ignorant but even nature itself will teach you that all this is
true; and I am satisfied you know it all to be true, and believe it
yourself."--"That is true, sir," said Atkins; "but with what face
can I say anything to my wife of all this, when she will tell me
immediately it cannot be true?"--"Not true!" said I; "what do you
mean by that?"--"Why, sir," said he, "she will tell me it cannot be
true that this God I shall tell her of can be just, or can punish
or reward, since I am not punished and sent to the devil, that have
been such a wicked creature as she knows I have been, even to her,
and to everybody else; and that I should be suffered to live, that
have been always acting so contrary to what I must tell her is
good, and to what I ought to have done."--"Why, truly, Atkins,"
said I, "I am afraid thou speakest too much truth;" and with that I
informed the clergyman of what Atkins had said, for he was
impatient to know. "Oh," said the priest, "tell him there is one
thing will make him the best minister in the world to his wife, and
that is repentance; for none teach repentance like true penitents.
He wants nothing but to repent, and then he will be so much the
better qualified to instruct his wife; he will then be able to tell
her that there is not only a God, and that He is the just rewarder
of good and evil, but that He is a merciful Being, and with
infinite goodness and long-suffering forbears to punish those that
offend; waiting to be gracious, and willing not the death of a
sinner, but rather that he should return and live; and even
reserves damnation to the general day of retribution; that it is a
clear evidence of God and of a future state that righteous men
receive not their reward, or wicked men their punishment, till they
come into another world; and this will lead him to teach his wife
the doctrine of the resurrection and of the last judgment. Let him
but repent himself, he will be an excellent preacher of repentance
to his wife."

I repeated all this to Atkins, who looked very serious all the
while, and, as we could easily perceive, was more than ordinarily
affected with it; when being eager, and hardly suffering me to make
an end, "I know all this, master," says he, "and a great deal more;
but I have not the impudence to talk thus to my wife, when God and
my conscience know, and my wife will be an undeniable evidence
against me, that I have lived as if I had never heard of a God or
future state, or anything about it; and to talk of my repenting,
alas!" (and with that he fetched a deep sigh, and I could see that
the tears stood in his eyes) "'tis past all that with me."--"Past
it, Atkins?" said I: "what dost thou mean by that?"--"I know well
enough what I mean," says he; "I mean 'tis too late, and that is
too true."

I told the clergyman, word for word, what he said, and this
affectionate man could not refrain from tears; but, recovering
himself, said to me, "Ask him but one question. Is he easy that it
is too late; or is he troubled, and wishes it were not so?" I put
the question fairly to Atkins; and he answered with a great deal of
passion, "How could any man be easy in a condition that must
certainly end in eternal destruction? that he was far from being
easy; but that, on the contrary, he believed it would one time or
other ruin him."--"What do you mean by that?" said I.--"Why," he
said, "he believed he should one time or other cut his throat, to
put an end to the terror of it."

The clergyman shook his head, with great concern in his face, when
I told him all this; but turning quick to me upon it, says, "If
that be his case, we may assure him it is not too late; Christ will
give him repentance. But pray," says he, "explain this to him:
that as no man is saved but by Christ, and the merit of His passion
procuring divine mercy for him, how can it be too late for any man
to receive mercy? Does he think he is able to sin beyond the power
or reach of divine mercy? Pray tell him there may be a time when
provoked mercy will no longer strive, and when God may refuse to
hear, but that it is never too late for men to ask mercy; and we,
that are Christ's servants, are commanded to preach mercy at all
times, in the name of Jesus Christ, to all those that sincerely
repent: so that it is never too late to repent."

I told Atkins all this, and he heard me with great earnestness; but
it seemed as if he turned off the discourse to the rest, for he
said to me he would go and have some talk with his wife; so he went
out a while, and we talked to the rest. I perceived they were all
stupidly ignorant as to matters of religion, as much as I was when
I went rambling away from my father; yet there were none of them
backward to hear what had been said; and all of them seriously
promised that they would talk with their wives about it, and do
their endeavours to persuade them to turn Christians.

The clergyman smiled upon me when I reported what answer they gave,
but said nothing a good while; but at last, shaking his head, "We
that are Christ's servants," says he, "can go no further than to
exhort and instruct: and when men comply, submit to the reproof,
and promise what we ask, 'tis all we can do; we are bound to accept
their good words; but believe me, sir," said he, "whatever you may
have known of the life of that man you call Will Atkin's, I believe
he is the only sincere convert among them: I will not despair of
the rest; but that man is apparently struck with the sense of his
past life, and I doubt not, when he comes to talk of religion to
his wife, he will talk himself effectually into it: for attempting
to teach others is sometimes the best way of teaching ourselves.
If that poor Atkins begins but once to talk seriously of Jesus
Christ to his wife, he will assuredly talk himself into a thorough
convert, make himself a penitent, and who knows what may follow."

Upon this discourse, however, and their promising, as above, to
endeavour to persuade their wives to embrace Christianity, he
married the two other couple; but Will Atkins and his wife were not
yet come in. After this, my clergyman, waiting a while, was
curious to know where Atkins was gone, and turning to me, said, "I
entreat you, sir, let us walk out of your labyrinth here and look;
I daresay we shall find this poor man somewhere or other talking
seriously to his wife, and teaching her already something of
religion." I began to be of the same mind; so we went out
together, and I carried him a way which none knew but myself, and
where the trees were so very thick that it was not easy to see
through the thicket of leaves, and far harder to see in than to see
out: when, coming to the edge of the wood, I saw Atkins and his
tawny wife sitting under the shade of a bush, very eager in
discourse: I stopped short till my clergyman came up to me, and
then having showed him where they were, we stood and looked very
steadily at them a good while. We observed him very earnest with
her, pointing up to the sun, and to every quarter of the heavens,
and then down to the earth, then out to the sea, then to himself,
then to her, to the woods, to the trees. "Now," says the
clergyman, "you see my words are made good, the man preaches to
her; mark him now, he is telling her that our God has made him,
her, and the heavens, the earth, the sea, the woods, the trees,
&c."--"I believe he is," said I. Immediately we perceived Will
Atkins start upon his feet, fall down on his knees, and lift up
both his hands. We supposed he said something, but we could not
hear him; it was too far for that. He did not continue kneeling
half a minute, but comes and sits down again by his wife, and talks
to her again; we perceived then the woman very attentive, but
whether she said anything to him we could not tell. While the poor
fellow was upon his knees I could see the tears run plentifully
down my clergyman's cheeks, and I could hardly forbear myself; but
it was a great affliction to us both that we were not near enough
to hear anything that passed between them. Well, however, we could
come no nearer for fear of disturbing them: so we resolved to see
an end of this piece of still conversation, and it spoke loud
enough to us without the help of voice. He sat down again, as I
have said, close by her, and talked again earnestly to her, and two
or three times we could see him embrace her most passionately;
another time we saw him take out his handkerchief and wipe her
eyes, and then kiss her again with a kind of transport very
unusual; and after several of these things, we saw him on a sudden
jump up again, and lend her his hand to help her up, when
immediately leading her by the hand a step or two, they both
kneeled down together, and continued so about two minutes.




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