The Further Adventures of Robinson Crusoe

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