ROBINSON
YOUNGER
R THE USE
YOUNG PERSON
- Mr. ). H. CAMPE
FROM THE GERMAN
REVISED AND CORRECTED TO WHICH IS ADDED
DULCH EX
ANATION

ARTES
1837.
SCIENTIA
VERITAS
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
PLURIOUS UNI
UNUM
TUEBOR
"SIQUÆRIS PENINSULAM-AMⱭINAM
CIRCUMSPICE
GIFT OF
REGENT LLHUBBARD

Hubbard
Imag. Voy.
PT
1832
.C8

R73
1816a


ROBINSON

22/997
THE
- 1158562
YOUNGER
FOR THE USE OF
YOUNG PERSONS
BY
MR. J. H. CA M P E.
PE.
TRANS I AT ED
FROM THE GERMAN
REVISED AND CORRECTED, TO WHICH IS ADDED
&
▲ DUTCH EXPLANATION OF THE WORDS,
}
ZUTPHEN,
PRINTED BY AND FOR H. C. A. THIEME.
18 16.


VOORBERIGT.
Aay Ak.
Figent && Hubbard
8-2-38
De
e Robinſon van CAMPE is algemeen met lof
bekend. De belangrijkheid van het onderwerp en
de bevalligheid van deszelfs voordragt, zalke we-
zenlijke vereischten in een leesboek voor jonge
lieder, hebben dat werkje tot eene geliefkoosde
lektuur gemaakt, niet flechts voor de Duitfche
jeugd, maar ook voor die van andere volken.
Van hier de overzettingen in de meeste levende
talen, en de bijzondere graagte, waarmede die
vertalingen, over het geheel, ontvangen zijn.
Slechts eene overzetting van CAMPE'S Robin-
fon in het Engelsch bleef nog eene behoefte. Het
zij vooringenomenheid met den Engelfchen Ro-
binfon Crufoe, of andere redenen, CAMPE'S
werkje bleef in Engeland onbekend, en het is
op het vaste land, dat eene vertolking van het-
zelve ondernomen is. De uitgever was voorne→
om zelf in die behoefte te doen voor-
mens,
zien,
en had de taak tot dat einde reeds aan
een kundig man opgedragen, toen hij vernam,
dat er in Duitschland zoodanig eene overzetting
beflond, welke, na onderzoek, bleek, vrij wel
uitgevoerd te zijn.
De-
VOOR BERIGT.
Deze overzetting is in den tegenwoordigen En-
gelfchen druk gevolgd, maar nagezien en verbe-
terd, daar waar de zin van het Hoogduitsch cene
andere, meer eigenaardige, omzetting in het En-
gelsch vorderde. Verder heeft men de, onder
elke bladzijde geplaatfte, phrafeologie vervangen
door een woordenboekje, achter aan het werkje
gevoegd: iets dat ter aanwakkering van de vlijt
der jonge lieden, op het voetfpoor der leesboe-
ken van den beroemden GEDICKE, oneindig veel
gopaster is.
Dat, voor het overige, dit Leesboek, hetwelk
benevens het Engelsch leesboek van GE-
DICKE (waarvan bij den Uitgever dezes een twee-
de verbeterde druk uitgegeven is), als leesboe-
ken voor eenen eerften curfus der Engelfche taal,
inzonderheid gefchikt zijn, en met veel voordeel
door de jeugd, in hunne oefening van het En-
gelsch op de fcholen, moge gebruikt worden,
is de hartelijke wensch van den
Uitgever.
PRE-
PREFACE.
If the different intentions, which I had in com-
posing these sheets, do not entirely prove abor-
tive, the book which I here present to the pu-
blic, will be useful in more than one respect.
I'll display these intentions in a few words, that
every one may be enabled, to compare them with
the execution, and this will likewise be advanta-
geous in shewing to inexperienced instructors the
which according to my wishes should be
use
made of this work.
In the first place, I intended to entertain my
young readers in as agreeable a manner as possi
ble; well knowing, that the hearts of children
are always open to receive useful instructions.
they are chearful and gay,
when they are
nor do I
doubt, but I have tolerably attained this my
first view.
In the second place, I designed to annex to
the thread of the narration, which forms the ba-
sis of this book, so much elenrental knowledge,
as was consistent with my first view. By elemen-
tal knowledge I do not mean literary elements
but such as ought to precede literary or scienti-
fic elements; viz, all those initial ideas of things
* 2
QC-
4
PREFACE.
occurring in domestic life, in nature, and in the
extensive circle of ordinary human activity, with-
out which every other instruction resembles a
building without foundation.
Thirdly, I intended occasionally to insert ma-
ny necessary rudiments of natural history, be-
cause I found them in my way. For, why in-
stead of the fictions, with which the original his-
tory of Robinson is filled, might I not rather
take real objects, real productions and phoeno-
mena of nature
relative to the part of the
world in question
as I could have them both
at the same price, and they answer'd the same
purpose? This is one reason, why I could make
no great use of old Robinson's history, in
composing mine. Many others will he found
hereafter.
My fourth and most important view was, to
arrange the circumstances and adventures so, as
to be productive of many moral remarks and na-
tural occasions for pious and religious sentiments,
adapted to the understanding and the minds of
children. This often put me under a necessity
to create materials, and. to deviate from the ori-
ginal history.
"
To use this book therefore only as an exercise
in reading for young children, (which generally
is not their most agreeable occupation) would
highly frustrate my most sanguine wishes; viz,
to
PREFACE.
5
to sow the seeds of virtue, piety and resignation
in the ways of divine providence, into the minds
of children. Grown people, who love the con-
versation of children, are to read it to them •
and give it into the hands of those children onl
wo have already acquired a competent fluency in
reading.
g
My fifth view had reference to the now raging
epidemic, mental disease, which for some years
has caused such dreadful depredations on all our
bodily and mental faculties, to the visible dimi-
nution of the sum of human joys in life. I mean
that fatal sentimental fever. Though heaven
be praised the rage of this moral disease has
in so much abated, as to be no longer a pesti-
lence that destroys at noon day, because no one
dares any longer boast of affected sensibility; but
nevertheles it remains to the present day, a dis-
temper lurking in the dark, and like other shame-
ful distempers, is preying on the health of
the human soul. Nothing affected me more than
to see, how some authors were endeavouring to
infuse the sweet flattering poison of this sickness
into our offspring, which would have render'd
the next generation just as sickly in mind and
body, as enervated, as dissatisfied with them-
selves, with the world, and with divine provi-
dence as the present. Whilst I was considering
what migt prove the most efficacions antidote
* 5
against
6
PREFACE.
:
against this contagion, my mind was struck with
the idea of a book, that might be an antipode
to the over- affected sentimental books of our
times; a book that might reclaim the minds of
children from that chimerical Arcadia, which
exists no where, and to which they are allured
by some and bring them back to that world we
really inhabit, and from thence to the original
state of humanity, from which we have deviated:
a book, which might rouse and strengthen many
a dormant, physical and moral faculty of man;
a book, indeed as entertaining and attractive as
any other, though not like so many others,mere-
ly for idle contemplations and trifling emotions,
a book
but might lead to immediate activity;
that might direct the inclination,
which young
children have to imitate every thing they sce
or hear, which inclination is the first that ari-
ses in us) towards those objects, which proper-
ly belong to our destination, I allude to inven-
tions and occupations to supply our natural wants;
a book, which might shew the contrast between
these natural wants of man, and those that are
only artificial and imaginary, between the true
relations, things bear to our happiness, and
those that are merely santastic, a book, in
fine, in which young and old might grasp as it
were felicity of social life notwithstanding all its
wants and unavoidable limitations; a book, which
might
>
PREF AGE.
饰
​";
might encourage every one to be satisfied with
his condition, to exert every social virtue, and
to show his inmost gratitude to divine providence.
Whilst I was reflecting upon such a book, and
anxiously looking about for a man that might
give it us; I recollected, that Rousseau (pea-
ce be with his great departed soul!) once wish-
ed for such a book and
a book and how did my pulse
beat! had partly discovered it. Instantly I
ran for the second volume of his Emile, looked
for the hint, and found it again in these words:
Should there not be some means, to con-
centrate so many different books, and to unite
them under one common head easily to over-
looked, usefully pursued, and apt to serve as
a spur, even to the present age? If a situation
could be found, in which all the natural wants
of man,
were displayed and seen in a manner,
utable and adapted to the infant mind, and in
which the means of supplying these wants were
by ingenuity and a lively imagination hit upon
and discovered; the natural and animated des-
cription of such a situation would give a child
occasion to exert the power of his imagination.”
Zealous philosopher, I see your imagination
already inflamed; don't put yourself to any ex-
pence; this situation is found, is described al-
ready,
and without depreciating your merit
much better than you would have done, at lerst
"
with
PREFA C E.
with more truth and simplicity. As we need have
books, there exists one, which in my opinion,
is the most successful treatise of a natural edu-
cation. This will be the first book that my
Emile shall read; it will for a long time be
his whole library and always have a considerable
place in it. It will be the text, to which all
?
our conversations of natural sciences will serve
as a commentary. It will serve as a touchstone
to our imagination and as long as our taste
be uncorrupted, the perusing of it will always
delight us. What then,
What then, may this wonderful
book be?
It is Aristotle, Pliny, Buffon?
No, it is Robinson Crusoe."?
Robinson Crusoe, alone in his island,
without the least assistance of any instrument of
Art *), is nevertheless occupied in providing for
his subsistence, for his preservation, and even
procures himself a very comfortable state of life.
This is an important object for every age, and
there are a thousand means of rendering it agree-
able to children: imperceptibly, we give a real
existence to the desert island,
served me as a comparison only.
which at first
This situation,
I must confess, is not that of a social man, and
pro-
*In this Mr. Rousseau is mistaken. Old Robinson had saved a
umber of tools from the wreck, whereas our younger Robinson had no-
thing but his hands and his head, to provide for his subsistence.
PREFACE.
9
probably will never be Emile's: but he is to
make a true estimate of all other situations from
that helpless condition. The surest means of rai-
sing one's self above any prejudice, and of
framing one's judgment according to the true
proportions of things, is, to place one's self in
the situation of an individual, and to judge of
every thing so, as such a man would have done
with regard to his own interest."
""
This novel then, disencumbered of all its
superfluities, beginning at Robinson's ship-
wreck
his island,
near
and ending with the
arrival of the ship he embarks in, will during
the time in question here, be Emile's amu-
sement and instruction. I'll have his head turn
giddy with it, see him busied with his castle,
goats and plantations, I'll have him learn mi-
nutely, not from books, but from the things:
themselves what to do in the like situation.
Let him fancy himself in Robinson's place,
cloathed, like him, in skins, wearing a great
cap, a broad sword by his side, with all the old
equipage of the picture, even to the umbrella,
which he'll never want, I'll have him be anxious
about the measures, he is to take, in case he should
come to want one or the other of these things;~ I'l
have him examine the conduct of his hero, exa-
mine whether he has not neglected any thing
whether he might not have arranged some things
* 5
het-
10
29
PREF A C E.
FAC
better; I'll have him be a strict observer of all
Robinson's faults, and learn how to avoid them,
were he in the same situation. For there is not the
least doubt of his forming such a plan to himself.
This is the true castle in the air, of that happy
age, in which no other happiness is known, than
to possess what is necessary and to enjoy freedom.”
What resources this fiction affords to an able
man, who invented it only for the most laudable
purposes! The child, forced to make a storehouse
for his island, will be more eager in learning, than
master in teaching. He will be desirous of knowing
all what is and may be useful, and desire no more.
There will be no need of leading him any longer,
but only to check him in his way. The perfor-
mance of the natural arts, to which one man alone
will be sufficient, leads to the investigation of those
arts of industry and skill, which require the con-
currence of many hands,'
ވ .
Thus far Rousseau.
And has this wonderful book, we hitherto seem-
ed to want, been in the world these many years?
Yes! and no! According as either the general
idea, or the execution of such a book be meant.
The former (which Rousseau speaks of), does
exist, has long existed, and its title is Robin-
son Crusoe; but alas the latter is still wanting.
For I think it is needless to observe, that so much
prolix, superfluous chat, that fullsome overstrain-
ed
PREFACE,
11
ed style, and that obsolete and often faulty lan-
guage of old german translations, are by no means
desirable qualities in a book for children, no more
than its defects with regard to morality.
Besides this, we find something in the history
of old Robinson, which destroys one of the
chief advantages, that might have been attained
by that history; I mean Robinson's being pro-
vided with all the necessary european instruments,
to procure him many of those conveniencies, so-
cial life affords among civilized people. By this,
the great advantage of giving a young reader a
striking picture of all the wants of a solitary man,
and of the many blessings of society, is entirely
lost. This is another reason, why I thought fit to
deviate from the original Robinson.
I therefore divided the whole history of my
young Robinson's stay in his inland, into three
periods. In the first, I would have him quite alone,
without any of the european utensils, shifting for
himself, by the only means of his understanding
and hands, to show how helpless a solitary man is ;
is;
and then, how much thinking and continued en-
deavours are able to contribute to the amendment
of our situation. In the second, gave him a com-
panion, to shew, how much the situation of man,
may he improved by society alone. Finally in the
third,
an european ship is cast away upon his
shore, to provide him with utensils and most of
the
12
PREFACE.
...
the necessaries of life, to enhance the value of so
many things, which we consider as trifles, because
we never felt the want of them. This first volume
then, contains the solitary life of young Robin-
son, and the second the continuation and conclu-
sion of the history.
Before I leave my readers, I take the liberty of
making young instructors attentive to a secondary
intention, which in the execution of this work seem-
ed very important to me, viz: to give beginners
in the art of education, by true family scenes, an
interesting example of the relation between parents
and children, and which ought likewise to subsist
between the instructor and his pupil. When this
relation, is once well established, many of these
obstacles, usually attending on education will dis-
appear of themselves: but when it is not, recourse
must be had to the compass of education, the de-
viations of which are so manifold, and not yet all
sufficiently ascertained by observations. Lastly,
this is the reason why I rather chose to introduce
real than fictious persons, and to transcribe real
than compose artificial dialogues.
ROBINSON
THE YOUNGER.
There was 1) once a numerous family, consisting 2) of
young and elderly people. These were 3) closely united
together, partly by the ties of nature, and partly by mutual
affection. The father and mother of the family loved them
all as
their own children, tho Charlotte alone, the least
of them, was their daughter; and two friends of the
house, R. and B., did 4) the same. They resided in the
country, not far from the gates of Hamburgh.
The motto of this family was: Pray and work! and none
of them knew 5) any other happineſs but what resulted
from the accomplishment of this precept. But during their
daily toils and after they were accomplished, all desired to
hear something, that might 6) contribute, to render them
more sensible, wiser and better; then the father would
7) relate them histories, tales etc. and the young folks
hearkened to him with great attention.
The following history of Robinson the younger, is one
of those evening tales. As it was probable, there might be
more good children, desirous of hearing or reading this
remarkable history, the father wrote 8) it down and two
thousand copies of it were printed.
A
The
1) to be. 2) to consist. 3) to be. 4) to do. 5) to know. 6) may
7) will. 8) to write.
2
The book, my good child, you now have in your
hands, is one of them >
and you may therefore directly
-
begin at the following page, if you chuse it.
But I had 9) almost forgotten 10) what preceded this re-
lation. Will you not tell us something, father?" said
Theophilus, on a fine summer's evening. With all my
but it were a pity, to pafs so
heart," was the answer;
"
fine an evening in doing nothing, but looking through
the windows. Come, let us sit down on the grafsplat!"
Oh that's fine, very fine! they all cried, running hasti
ly out of doors.
g) to have. 10) to forget,
FIRST
FIRST EVENING.
Theophilus. Here, Papa?
Father. Yes, here under this apple tree.
Nicholas. Oh, excellent!
All. Excellent, most excellent!
(Jumping about and clapping their hands.)
Father. But what do you intend to do, whilst I am tel-
ling you a ſtory; I dare say you will not sit there quite idle?
John. No, if we had but something to do..
Mother. Here are 11) pease to shell! Here are french
beans to string who will have any?
All. I INI!I!
Theophilus. I and my Charlotte, and you Frederic wilk
shell pease, shall we not?
Charlotte. No! I thank you, I must first make the braid-
stitch, Mama shewed me.
Theophilus. Well, we two thent come Frederic! sit down.
Friend R. 1'll 12) work with you.
(Sitting down by them on the graſs.)
Friend R. And I with you; you have no objection, I
dare say?
Dick. Oh no! no! here is room enough. That's excel.
lent! Now we will see, who can string most!
Father. Place yourselves so, that you can see the sun
go down, it will be a glorious sight this evening.
A 3
3x) to be. 12) i. e. I will.
They
4
(They all seat themselves and commence their work.)
Father. Now, my children, I will tell you a very won.
derful story at times your hair will stand on end, and then
your hearts will beat with delight.
Theophilus. Oh, but don't *) let it be too melancholy!
Charlotte. No, not too melancholy, d'ye †) hear, Pa-
pa? otherwise it will certainly make us cry, and then we
can't 5) help it.
John. Well, give over! Papa will know what he is to tell.
Father. Fear nothing, my children; I'll take care, that
it shall not be too mournful.
There was once a man in Hamburgh, whose name was
Robinson. He had three sons. The eldest, who had a
mind to be a soldier, inlisted, and was killed in a battle
against the French.
The second applied to learning; one day being overhea
ted, he drank d) a cold draught, which threw e) him into
a consumption and carried him off.
The youngest, who was called Crusoe, I don't know,
on what account, was the only surviver. In him Mr. and
Mrs. Robinson placed all their hopes, as he was now their
only child; they loved him to excefs, but their love was
in consistent with reason.
Theophilus. What's the meaning of that, Papa ?
Father. You shall hear. We love you also, you know;
but for that very reason we encourage you to work, and
teach you many agreeable and useful things, because we
know, it will render you good and happy. But Crusoe's
parents did f) not so. Their darling son had his own will
as he rather chose to
in every thing he did, and now,
play, than work and learn, he was allowed to play almost
the
*) i. e. do not. †) i. e. do you. 5) i. e. can not. d) to drink.
e) to throw. f) to do.
5
the whole day and so learned little or nothing. This is,
what sensible people call unreasonable love.
Theophilus. Ah! now I understand it.'
Father: Thus, young Robinson grew g) up, and nobody
knew, what he would be fit for. His father wished he
might apply to commerce, but he had no liking to it. He
said, he would rather travel through the wide world, that
he might daily see and hear many new things.
But this was inadvertently spoken h) by the young man.
Nay, if he had been i) diligent in learning, it would have
done! But what could an ignorant boy, like this Crusoe,
do in the wide world? If a man intend to make his way
in foreign regions, he must first acquire a sufficient stock of
knowledge and that was, what he had not yet thought ) of
·
He was now already seventeen years of age, and had spent
1) most of his time in running about. Every day he was teas-
ing his father, to give him permission to travel : his father
answered he was a fool, and that he would not listen to
him. Son! son! his mother would cry, stay in thy country
and get an honest livelihood.
One day
Charlotte. Now we shall hear it!
Nicholas Oh! silence!
Father. One day, when according to his custom, he was
loitering about the port, he met m) with one of his com-
rades, who was son to a captain of a ship, and just ready
to go with his father to London.
Frederic. In a coach?
{
Dick. No, Frederic! to go to London they must croſs a
large water, on board of a ship, which water is called the
North - Sea.
Well Papa?
Father. His comrade asked him, if he would go along
•
A 3
with
g) to grow. h) to speak, i) to be. k) to think. 7) to ſpend.
m) to meet.
6
with him? With all my heart; answer'd Crusoe, but my
parents will not permit me. Why, replied the other, come
along with us, for sport's sake! We shall be back again
in three weeks time, and you may inform your parents of
what is become of you.
59
"'
He
But I bave no money about me!" said Crusoe Ne
ver mind," answered the other;,, I'll pay your expences."
Young Robinson hesitated a few moments; took n) bis
comrade by the hand and cried out: ;, Done! I'll go with
you, my boy! come let's o) go quickly on board!"
then found p) some person, to tell his father some hours
after, that he had only taken a trip over to England and
would soon be back. And now these two friends went q)
together on board.
John. Fie! I don't like this Robinson,
Nicholas. Nor I neither.
Friend B. But why not?
John. Why, because he can go away from his parents,
without their permission.
Friend B. You are right, John! it was indeed very
stupid of him, and we must pity his stupidity. Happily,
there are not many young folks, so filly as not to know.
their duty towards their parents,
Nicholas. Are there any more such, do you think?
Friend B. I, for my part, never met with any; but what
I know for certain, is that such young simpletons, who for
get, what they owe to their parents,
can never prosper in
the world,
weighed
John. Well, let us hear, what became of Robinson.
Father. The sailors or the ship's crew
anchor, and hoisted the sails, and when the wind filled
them, the captain took his farewell of the town by firing
#) to take. ) i. e. let us. p) to find. g) to go. r) to be,
six
7
six guns. Young Robinson, being on deck with his friend,
was almost out of his wits with joy, that he was at last
going to see the world.
The day was very fine, and the wind so favourable, that
in a short space of time they lost s) sight of the town of
Hamburgh. The next day they arrived off Rittzebuttle,
where the Elb falls into the sea,
the open sea.
and now they entered into
when he saw t) nothing but
The land, he departed from,
degrees. Now he could see
How Robinson was amazed,
sky and water before him!
began u) to disappear by
nothing more of it but the large beacon; which Hamburgh
keeps on the island of Helgoland. This also disappeared
in a short time, and now he saw nothing but the heavens
above him and water on all sides.
Theophilus. What a prospect that must be!
Friend R. Perhaps you will enjoy it in a short time.
Theophilus. How so?
Friend R. If you be very attentive in your geographical
lessons, and learn, what roads to keep, in going from
one place to another
Father. Yes, and if by working and temperance in eat-
ing and drinking you harden your constitutions every day
that you may be able to bear the fatigue of such a jour.
ney, we may one day or other make a tour to Trayemund
80,
on the Baltic sea
All Oh! Oh!
Father. There we go on board a ship, and sail a cou
ple of miles out at sea.
(Here they all sprung up from the ground, embraced
the father's neck, arms and knees,
arms and knees, expressing their
joy by caresses, clapping with their hands, hopping
and jumping about.) ·
s) to lose. f) to see. %) to begin.
A 4
Mo-
8
Mother. Will you not take me along with you?
Charlotte. Ay, if you can walk so far!
ry far
But it is ve-
is not it, Papa? perhaps farther than Wans-:
beck, where Mr. Claudius lives, and another gentleman,
who has a large house and garden oh, so large, so
large! much larger than our garden; I have been there al-
ready, have n't I, Papa? when we were looking about
the fields for fine pebbles and
Father. Where we saw how the people plough'd
Charlotte. Ay, and where we went) into the smith's
shop, by the road-side
Father. Ay, and where we mounted up to the wind-
mill
Charlotte. Ah, yes! where the wind blew my hat off
Father. Which the muller's boy brought back to you.
Charlotte. That was a very good boy, was not he Papa?
Father. A very good boy, indeed, who was so ready to
do us a favour, altho' he had never seen w) us before!
Charlotte You gave x) him something, did y) not you,
Papa ?
-L
Father. To be sure, 1 did! Every one likes to oblige
and reward good people, who behave kindly towards us.
But we forget our Robinson; we must make haste to over-
take him, otherwise we shall lose sight of him. For his
ship sails exceedingly fast.
Weather and wind continued fine and favourable for two
days. On the third the sky became z) cloudy. It grew a)
darker and darker, and the wind began to blow very violently.
Now it lightened so, as if the sky was on fire; then it
grew again as dark as at midnight, and the thunder did
The rain fell down in torrents,
not cease to roar.
*)
and a
most
*) to go. *) to see. r) to give. y) to do, z) to become, a)
to grow.
9
most dreadful storm agitated the sea in such a manner, that
the waves went b) mountains high.
There you should c) have seen how the ship rolled up
and down! One wave carried her up to the sky, another
precipitated her again as it were into an abyfs; a while
she lay d) on one side, then again on the other.
What a noise in the rigging! what a cracking in the
whole ship! The people were obliged to hold themselves,
for fear of falling every moment. Robinson not used to all
this, grew dizzy, began to vomit and grew so sick, that
he thought e) he should have died. This they call sea -
sickness.
John. Now he got f) his deserts!
Father. Oh
**
my
dear parents! my poor parents," he
now cried by turns, "you will never see me again! Oh
what a wretch I was, to afflict you so!" Crack! crack!
went the ship all of a sudden. Heaven have mercy upon
us!" cried the sailors, turning as pale as death, and
wringing their hands in despair. ,, What's the matter?"
cried Robinson, almost frightened to death.
"
•
Alas! we are undone!" they cried,,, a flash of ligh
ting has split our foremast, and. our mainmast is quite loose
too, so that it must be cut away, and flung g) over board."
We are lost!" cried another voice, from the hold,
, the ship has sprung h) a leak, and there are already four
feet water in the hold!"
n
Robinson who was sitting in the cabin on the floor, at
these words, fell i) down. All hands were called to the
pumps, if possible, to keep the ship above water. At last
a sailor came to him and gave him a hearty shake and
cried :
What will you alone lie idle here, while all the
rest of us are working ourselves to death?
b) to go. c) shall. d) to ly. (lie.) e) to think. f) to get. g)
to fling. h) to fpring. i) to fall.
10
He then got k) up, weak as he was, and went to one
of the pumps. In the mean time the captain ordered some
guns to be fired, as a signal of distress to any vessel, that
might happen to be near. Robinson, who knew not the
reason of it, thought the ship had burst, and fainted away
again. A sailor, who took ) his place, thrust him aside
and lest m) him for dead.
They pumped with all their strength, but the water in
the hold augmented so much, that every moment it was
thought, n) the ship would founder. In order to lighten
her, they flung every thing they could spare over board,
as the guns, bales, casks etc, but all to no purpose,
In the mean time another ship had heard the signal of di-
strefs, and sent o) a boat, to save the crew, if possible.
But the boat could not come near the ship, because the
waves rolled too high, by which it was so violently tost p)
about, that it was in the greatest danger of being overset ?
yet these good-natured people chose rather to venture their
own lives, than leave their fellow creatures without assistance.
Nicholas. These people were certainly from Hambro' too?
Father. What makes you think so?
Nicholas. Because they were so ready to assist this Ham
burg-Vessel, and even ventured their lives for her sake!
Father. Must we then assist our country-men only? su20
re that is not your meaning, dear Nicholas! suppose a
man from America should just now fall into our pond:
should we wait and ask him first, where he came from?
should we not all rather run to save him? Well the
people in the boat had the same humanity, tho' they were
neither Hamburghers, nor Europeans, nor Christians, but
Turks from Smyrna, which place is situated in Asia.
John.
k) to get. ) to take. m) to leave. a) to think. o) to send. p)
to tofs.
TI
John. I did not think Turks to be so good a people!
Father. Dear John! there are good people among all
nations and in all countries, the same as there has now
and then been a wicked fellow among all nations and in
all countries.
These brave people strove q) a long while in vain against
those high rolling mountains of water, which every moment
threaten'd to swallow them and their boat. At last however,
they came so near a stern, that by means of a rope, they
hauled the boat to the ship, and then every one of the ship's
company jumped in: Robinson, unable to stand 募 ​was
thrown r) in by some compassionate sailors.
They had scarce roved four cables length from the ship,
when they saw s) her founder. Happily for them, the storm
began now to abate a little: else the boat with all the peo-
ple in it would certainly have been swallowed up by the
waves. At last, after many dangers, they reached the
ship, where they were all taken on board.
At last
Theophilus. Oh, I am very glad, the poor people are
lot drowned!
Frederic. I was in great fear for them.
Charlotte. This will teach master Robinson to be more
rudent for the future,
Mother. 1 think so too, now he will grow wiser.
Dick. But what became of him, now he was on board
of the other ship?
Father. The ship, which had received him and all his
comrades on board, was bound t) for London. In four days
hey made u) the mouth of the Thames and soon after they
ast anchor at London.
Frederic. Pray, what is the mouth of the Thames?
Friend R. The Thames is a river, like our Elb, falling
into
4) to strive.) to throw. s) to see, t) to bind. ) to make.
12
into the sea not far from London. The place, where a ri-
ver falls into the sea, is called the mouth of that river.
Father. They now all went ashore, and every one was
greatly rejoiced to have come off so well.
Robinson's chief business now was, to see the great city
of London, and he was so taken with it, that he forgot
w) the past and the future. At last his stomach put him
in mind, that to live in the great city of London, he must
also eat and drink. He therefore went to his captain and
begged his leave to dine with him.
This man received him with great hospitality. At dinner,
he asked our Robinson the proper reason of his coming to
London, and what he now intended to do there?
Robinson then frankly told x) him, that he was only co
me for pleasure, and even without the knowledge and con-
sent of his parents, and that he did not know what to do
with himself.
!
Without the knowledge and consent of your parents?"
cried the captain in a fright, whilst the knife dropt y) from
his hand. Good God, why was not I sooner apprized
of this! Believe me, imprudent young man," continued
had I known this, at Hamburgh, I would not ha
ve taken you on board, if you had offer'd me a million
for your passage ! "
be,
"2
All this while Robinson sat z) quite abashed with his eyes
cast down.
The honest captain continued to represent to him, how
very wrong he had acted, saying, he was assured that he
could never prosper, till he mended and had obtained the
forgiveneſs of his parents. Robinson shed bitter tears.
But what can I do now? said he at last, sobbing.
w) to forget. x) to tell. y) to drop. ≈) to sit.
"
Do?"
13
,, Do?" answered the captain; „ why! you must re-
turn to your parents, embrace their knees, and with filial
repentance, beg their pardon for your inconsiderate behaviour.”
Charlotte. That was a good and honest man, that cap-
tain; was he not, Papa?
Father. He did what every one
sees his fellow-creature go astray:
man of his duty.
"
Will you take me with you,
Robinson.
ought to do, when he
he reminded the young
to Hambro' again?" said
[?" answered the captain, " have you then forgot,
that my ship is lost? a) I shall not return there before I
have gotten ) another, and this will take up more time.
than you are allowed to stay here. You must return to Ham.
burgh, by the very first vessel, that saile thither, and that
the sooner the better."
you
But I have no money!" said Robinson.
Here," answered the captain,
are some guineas for
Theophilus. Pray, what are guineas?
Father. English money, my dears gold coin, like 's
Louisd'or, of about six dollar's value; I'll shew you one
when we go in.
John.
Oh, but let us continue!
Father. Here," answered the brave captain,
59
"
are
some guineas for you, which I'll lend you, tho' I am in
great need of money myself. Take them and go to the har-
bour, and bespeak a place on board a ship. If you sine
cerely repent, God will grant you a safer returu,
voyage hither has been." Upon which he shook c) him
heartily by the haud, and wished him a safe return.
than our
Robinson went away
B
a) to lose. b) to get. c) to shake.
Ni
14
Nicholas. Oh now he is returning home against i thought
d) we were to have some adventures first!
Mother. Are you not glad, dear Nicholas; to see him
returning home to his parents, who probably are in great
trouble for him!
Friend R. And don't you rejoice to see him repent of
his wrongs and that he promises to mend?
Nicholas. O yes, I do; but I thought the most entertai
ning part was yet to come.
Father. He is not yet at home; let us hear, what fur-
ther happened to him!
35
"
On his way to the harbour, an hundred thoughts came
into his head. What will my parents say?" thought he,
when I come home again. They will certainly punish me,
for having run away! And as to my comrades and play-
fellows, how will they laugh at my returning so soon, when
I have seen no more than a couple of streets in London!"
He stopt e) short in his walk, his head filled with re-
flexions.
He now thought, he would not return yet; but then he
recollected again, what he captain had told f) him, that
he would never be happy; unleſs he returned to his parents
and obtained their pardon. He was for a long while at a
lofs what to resolve upon. At last, however, he went to
the barbour.
There he heard, to his inexpressible joy, that there was
then no ship in loading for Hamburgh. The man, who
informed him of this, belonged to a Guinea-trader
Frederic. What is a Guinoa-trader?
Father. Let Dick tell you, he knows, what it is.
Dick. Don't you remember, there is a country, called
Africa? Well, one sea coast of it
to think. ) to stop. f) to tell
Fre
$5
Frederic. Coast!
Dick. Yes, or the land close to the sea — Look, I ha*
ve just my little maps here! This tract of land, winding
down this way, is called the coast of Guinea,
Father. And the ships, that sail thither, are Guinea
men. And the man, Robinson spoke g) with, was cap
tain of such a ship.
This captain liked Robinson's conversation, and invited
him to drink a dish of tea with him on board; which Ro-
binson consented to.
John. Could that captain speak German then?
Father. I forgot to tell you, that Robinson had gotten
h) a smattering of the English already in Hamburgh, which
as he was now in England, proved very useful to him.
The captain hearing of his great inclination to travel, and
that he was loath to return home so soon, proposed him,
to sail with him to Guinea. Robinson at first started at the
idea. But when the captain assured him, that the voyage
was very pleasant, and that he should go as a companion
with him, without paying any thing, and that possibly he
might be a gainer by this voyage: the blood rushed into
bis face, and bis desire of travelling became ) so violent,
that he forgot k) all the good counsel, which the honest
Hamburgh captain had given him, and what a few minu
tes before he himself had resolved to do.
,, But," said he, after having paused a little,,, I have but
three guineas. What can I buy for so little money,
de with at the place we are going to ?"
""
to tra.
I'll lend you six guineas more," answered the captain.
For this money you may buy as many goods, as will be
sufficient for you to become a rich man in Guinea, if fortu
ne favour us ever so little,"
) to speak. h) to get. i) to become. ) to forget.
1 And
16
And what shall I then buy for my nine guineas?" said
Robinson.
The captain answered; mere trifles,
all sorts of toys
glassbeads, knives, cisars, hatchets, ribands, firelocks etc,
And the blacks of Guinea are so fond of all these things,
that they will give you an hundred times the value of them
in gold-dust, ivory and other valuable things."
دو
Now Robinson could withftand no longer, he forget his
parents, friends and country, and joyfully cried out: I'll
go with you, captain." Agreed!" answered the other: and
so they struck k) hands, and the voyage was resolved upon.
John, Well! now I'll have no more compassion with this
stupid Robinson, tho' he should be ever so miserable.
Father. No compassion, John?
John. No, Papa; why is he so stupid, as to forget his
duty to his parents again? God Almighty must certainly pu-
nish him again for such wickedneſs.
Father. And do you think that such an unfortunate person,
who can so forget his parents, and whom God Almighty
must correct by punishments, deserves no compassion? I
grant that he is the cause of all he is going to suffer again;
but is he not the more unfortunate for it? Oh, my son, God
preserve you and us all, from the most dreadful of all suf-
ferings, which is, to be conscious of having been the cause
of one's own misery! But when ever we hear of such a
wretch, we will reflect, that he is our brother, our poor
deluded brother, and we will shed a tear of compassion
and intercede with heaven for him.
All remained filent for some moments, when the father
pursued in these words. -
Robinson made now all possible speed to town with his
nine guineas, for which he purchased the things, the cap
tain had advised him, and sent ) them on board.
k) to strike. 7) to send.
A
17
A few days after, the wind proving favourable the cap.
tain ordered the anchor to be weighed, and thus they sail
ed away from London.
Dick. What way were they then to take, in order to
sail for Guinea?
mes,
-
Father. You have your little maps there; come I will shew
you! Look here, from London they sail down the Tha-
into the Northsea; then they steer westwards thro'
the straits of Calais into the Channel. From thence they en-
ter the Atlantic Ocean and continue their course, steering
here by the Canaries, and there by Cape Verd islands,
till at length they come to this coast here, below which is
that of Guinea,
Dick. But what place will they land at?
Father. Perhaps there near Cape - Corse, which belongs
to the English.
Mother. But I think, it is also time for us to sail,
1
and
to steer to table. The sun has been down a good while.
Theophilus. I am not at all hungry yet.
Charlotte. I would rather hear the story continued.
Father. To morrow, to morrow! my children, you shall
hear what further happened to our Robinson. Now to
supper.
All. To supper! to supper?
SE-
B 3
SECOND EVENING.
The following evening, when all te company was assemb
bled and was again seated in the same place; the Father
resumed his story as follows:
This new voyage again proved very prosperous at first. They
had already without any accident passed the Channel and we-
re now in the Atlantic Ocean. Here the wind blew m) for
many days so contrary, that they were continually driven n}
towards America.
Look, children, I have brought o) a large map with me;
on this you can see more plainly than upon a small one,
what way the ship was to steer and whither she was driven
by contrary winds. Here down this way they intended to
sail, but the wind proving contrary, they were, against
their will, driven to were you see America, I'll fix the map
against that tree
so that, if necessary, we may easily,
at a
great
and
distance,
at the
cast an eye upon it.
One evening the mate cried, that he saw p) a fire
same time they
heard some guns fired. All ran now upon deck, saw
the fire at a distance, and likewise heard the report of
several guns more. The captain examined his sea- - chart
and found, q) that there could be no land, within an hun.
dred miles distance; therefore they all were of opinion that
it was a ship on fire.
They
m) to blow. to drive. ) to bring. p) to see. g) to find.
5.
19
They immediately resolved to lend these unfortunate peo-
ple all possible assistance, and directed their course towards
them. They could soon very distinctly see, what they at
first had supposed; for they now beheld z) a large vessel
all in a blaze.
The captain ordered five guns to be instantly fired, to ac
quaint these hapless sufferers, that a ship was near, and
hastening to relieve them. The guns were scarce fired,
when, with terror, they beheld, the burning ship fly up
into the air, with a dreadful explosion and soon after all
was sunk s), and the fire extinguish'd; for the flame had
got ) to the powder room of the ship.
What was become of the unhappy people, was yet a
mystery. It was possible, that they had saved themselves in
their boats, before the ship blew u) up; therefore the cap-
tain continued firing his guns all night, to let the poor peo-
that wished to re-
ple know, where about the ship was,
lieve them. He also ordered all the lanthorns to be hung v)
out, that they might see the ship.
At break of day they
actually discovered by means of their perspective glasses two
boats full off people, tossed up and down the waves, ro
wing towards the ship with all their might, the wind blow-
ing in their teeth. The captain immediately ordered a flag
to be hoisted as a signal of their being seen by the ship,
which hastened to their relief, and making all the sail she
conld joined them in half an hour.
These unhappy, consisting of sixty people, men, women
and children, were all received on board. It was an effec.
ting scene to behold these poor people, when they faw
themſelves in safety? Some wept w) aloud for joy; others
roared for fear, as if the danger was but beginning; some
B 4
we.
r) to behold, s) to sink.) to get. ) to blow. ) to hang
w) to weep.
were seen jumping about the deck like madmen; others pa-
le as death, were wringing their hands; some were laugh-
ing, dancing and shouting like insensate people; others on
the contrary, stood x) dumb and lifelefs, and were unable
to pronounce a word.
Now some of them fell y) on their knees, lifting up their
hands to heaven, and thanked God Almighty aloud, whose
providence had fo miraculously preserved them.
Then they jumped up again, hopped about like children,
tore their garments, wept, a) fainted away and could
Scarce be recalled to life. Even the most unfeeling sailor
could not help shedding a sympathising tear at this sight.
Amongst these unfortunate people there was also a clergy-
man, who of all others behaved the most manly and with
the greatest dignity. At his first step upon deck, he laid
himself flat down upon his face, and seemed quite lifeleſs.
The captain, believing him in a fit, stept b) up to his as-
sistance: but the clergyman with the greatest composure
Give me
thanked him for his compassion, and said:
leave to thank my Creator first for our preservation; and
then I shall also tell you how much I acknowledge your
compassion with the warmest thanks." The captain respecte
fully withdrew c).
"
Having remained for some minutes in that posture, he
chearfully arose, d) went up to the captain and heartly thank.
ed him too. Hereupon he turned to his companions, ex-
horting them to make their minds easy, that they might the
better raise their thoughts unto the Lord, as their bountiful
preserver, to whom they owed the unexpected preservation
of their lives; and his exhortations had a good effect on
many of them,
Ho
a) to stand. y) to fall. ) to tear. a) to weep. b) to step.
e) to withdraw. d) to arise,
21
He then related, who they were, and what had happen.
ed to them.
The
Their ship had been a large french merchantman, bound
for Quebeck look here for this place in America
fire had broken e) out in the steerage, and had burnt
with such violence, that it was impossible for them to
tinguish it; they even had scarce had time enough to fire
some guns, and to save themselves in their boats.
ex.
In this situation none of them knew what would be their
fate at last. It was most probable, they should all be bu
ried in the waves by the least storm, or be starved for want
of provisions, because they had only had time to provide
themselves with bread and water from the burning ship, for
a couple of days.
Frederic. What need had they to take in water, being
surrounded with it on all sides?
Father. You have forgotten, dear Frederic, that sea-
water is so salt and bitter that no body can drink it.
Frederic. Yes! Yes!
Father. In this dreadful situation they had heard the
guns fired from he english ship, and foon after perceived
the lanthorns hung g) up. They had spent h) the whole of
this dismal night between fear and hope, being continually
driven farther away from the ship, in spite of the utmost
exercition of their united strength, to come nearer up with
her. At last the long wished for day-light put an end to
their misery.
Robinson all this while struggled with terrible ideas.,, Hea-
veus!" thought he, if these people, among whom there
are certainly many good souls, must suffer such misfortunes,
what am I, who have been so ungrateful to my parents,
expect for the future!" This thougt lay like a heavy burthen
e) to break. f) to forget. g) to hang. h) to spend.
to
-on
22
on his heart; he sat i) pale and speechless, like one tor
mented by a bad conscience, in a corner, wringing his
hands, scarce daring to pray, because he thought it im
possible for God to love him any longer.
Mother. See, what it is to be conscious of wicked aci
tions! Then we find no comfort in God; then we always
because we feel, that we deserve to be
that is a woeful condition..
fear the worst,
miserable. Oh!
Father. Very woeful indeed! God preserve us from it
and all our fellow-creatures.
When these poor sufferers, who were greatly harassed,
had refreshed themselves with victuals and drink, the chief
of them went up to the captain, holding a large purse of
money in his hand, telling him: this was all they had
been able to save from the ship; and offered it to him as
a small boon of the gratitude, they all owed him, for sa
ring their lives,
95
God forbid," cried the captain, I should take any
thing from you! I have done no more,
than what huma.
nity prompted me to do, and what I should expect to re-
ceive myſelf from you or any other, when in the fame cir
cumſtances.
him to
where
To take
In vain did the grateful man prefs the captain, to accept
his present, he persisted in his refusal and begged
say no more of it. After this, the question was
these preserved people could be set on shore?
them along to Guinea was not advisable for two obvious reas
sons. For, in the first place, why should these people
make a voyage to so distant a country and where they had
nothing to do? and then, they had not provisions enough
on board for so many people to live on, in such a long
voyage.
i) to sit.
At
23
At last our brave captain resolved to sail back a hundred
leagues and more, for the sake of these poor people, to
Newfoundland, where they might easily find an opportuni-
ty of returning to France by some vessel or other employed
in the codfishery.
Charlotte. What sort of fish are they?
to the
John. Have you forgotten, what Papa told k) us about
cod, how they come down from the frozen sea,
banks of Newfoundland, where they are caught /) in such
great quantities ?
Charlotte. Yes, now I remember..
John. Look, this is Newfoundland here above, close
by America, and those points there signify the sand
banks! well, now the people that catch them, are callęd
codfishers.
Father. Thither they steered, and it being just then the
fishing season, there were many french vessels, who wil-
lingly took m) these poor wretches on board, and their
gratitude towards the good captain is not to be described by
words.
As soon as they were delivered into good hands,
the
captain returned with a fair wind and continued his voyage
for Guinea. The vessel cut the waves with more rapidity than
a bird does the air, and in a short time they had again ma-
de some hundred miles. Now this was an unspeakable plea-
sure for our Robinson, who could never go fast enough,
because his mind was never at rest!
After they had been steering for some days westward
they suddenly discovered a large sail making towards them.
Soon after they heard some guns fired as in distrefs, and
then perceived she had lost n) her foremast and bowfprit.
Nicholas. Bowsprit?
•
k) to tell. 7) to catch. m) to take. n) to lose.
Fao
24
Father. Sure you know, what that is?
Nicholas. Oh yes, I remember, it is the. [mall mast,
that does not stand erect like the rest, but lies down on the
fore part of the vessel sticking out like a beak.
-
Father. Very right. They now likewise steered towards
this damaged ship, and when they were near enough to be
heard, the people on board of her screamed out to them,
with uplifted hands and lamentable looks:
Oh, good folks! rescue a ship full of people, who must
all perish, if you have no compassion with them."
/
Upon which, they were all questioned of what nature
their misfortune was, when one of them gave the following
account:
""
We are englishmen, bound for the island of Jamaica;
(look children, here in the middle of America) to fetch a
eargo of sugar. Whilst we lay at anchor and were just rea-
dy to take in our loading, our captain and first mate went
on shore upon some businefs. But in their absence there
arofe o) such a terrible tempest, that our cable broke p)
and we were driven out to sea. The hurricane
Theophilus. What is a hurricane?
Father. A most violent whirling storm. which arises from
the vehemence of several winds, blowing from different
quarters against each other
"
The hurricane continued for three days and three nights;
successively we lost our masts and were driven away many
hundred miles. Unhappily for us, we have not one man
on board that understands navigation: so that we have been
tossed about these nine weeks, without knowing where we
or what will become of us. All our provisions are ex-
and most of us half famished"
are,
hausted,
**
The generous captain immediately order'd the boat to be
hoist.
•) to arise. p) to break,
25
hoisted out, and having taken in some provisions, he and
Robinson went on board of the distressed ship.
There they found a) the whole crew in the most
wretched situation. All their faces looking pale and star
ved, and many were unable to stand. But when they
entered the cabin God! what a dreadful sight! there
lay a mother with her son and a young maid-servant, in all
appearance starved to death. The mother sat b) stiff on
the ground, between two chairs fastened together, with
her head leaning against the ship's side; the maid lay by
her at full length, clasping one foot of a table with one of
her arms; but the young man lay on a bed, with a piece
of a leathern glove in his mouth, which he had been
guawing.
1
Charlotte. Oh, dear Papa! why do you make it so
mournful?
Father. You are right; I forgot that you don't like to
hear such things, so I'll e'en paſs over this part of Robin-
son's history
All. O no! no, dear Papa, let's have it all, pray!
Father. Well if you chuse to have But previously I
must tell you, who these poor people were, that lay there
in such a dreadful situation.
were come with this
and had been obliged to
because the young man's
They were
who
passengers,
vessel from England to Jamaica,
remain on board for some days,
mother was taken ill. The whole crew said, they were
very good sort of people. The mother had loved her son
to such an excefs, that she would no longer eat a bit, but
spared it for her beloved son. And that dutiful son had done
the same again for his dear mother. Even the faithful
C
maid.
a) to find. b) to fit.
1
6
maid servant had been more concerned and anxious for her
Mistress and Master than for herself.
Every one thought c), they were really dead all the three,
but on a nearer examination some symptoms of life were
discovered in them. For after having poured a few drops of
broth into their mouths, their eyes began to open by de.
grees. But alas ! the mother was too far gone d) to swal-
low any thing, and after having intimated by signs to take
all possible care of her son, she really expired,
The young man and the maid were, by proper medici
nes, brought e) to themselves again, and being yet young,
the captain succeeded in his endeavours to save their lives.
But when the young man cast his eyes upon his mother, and
perceived that she was dead, he was so affected. that he
relapsed into a swoon, from which he was recovered with
great difficulty; however, by wholesome remedies and pro-
per care, he as well as the maid were perfectly restored to
life again.
The captain then provided them with as much provisions
as he could spare; his carpenters repaired the broken ƒ)
mast as well as they could; he also instructed them how
to steer in order to make the nearest land, which were the
Canaries. He now directed his course the same way, in or
der to take in fresh provisions.
One of them you know is Madeira,
Dick. Yes, that belongs to the Portuguese.
John. Where the fine Madeira - wine grows!
Theophilus. And the sugar canes!
Charlotte. And where there are so many canary birds!
Father. The same. At this island then the captain lan-
ded,
He could not satiate his eyes with the glorious prospect,
and Robinson went on shore with him.
c) to think. d) to go. e) to bring. f) to break.
which
27
which this fertile island afforded. As far as his eyes could
see, he saw the mountains all covered with vines. How
his mouth watered at the sight of the delicious grapes that
hung g) there in thick clusters! and what a feast for him,
when the captain had procured him leave, to eat his fill.
From the people in the vine-yards they learned, that
the wine was not made there by means of a prefs, as they
do in other countries.
Theophilus. And how then?
Father. They put the grapes into a large wooden vessel,
and then they either tread the juice out with their feet, or
stamp it out with their elbows.
Charlotte. Fie! I like not to drink Madeira wine!
John, Nor 1! if it were even made with the wine- prefs.
Frederic. But why not, pray?
John. Oh you were not here yet, when Papa explained
to us, that wine was not good for young people. You
would be surprised to hear what harm it can do them.
Frederic. Is that true, Papa?
Father. It is indeed, my dear Frederic. Children who
often drink wine and other strong liquors become weak and
stupid.
Frederic. Then I will never drink wine any more.
Father. You will do very well, my child!
2
The captain being obliged to stay here some time, to re-
fit his ship, which had suffered a little, our Robinson grew
h) tired of the place in a few days. His uneasy mind lon-
ged again for new scenes, and he wished to have wings
that he might fly through the world.
In the interim a portuguese ship arrived from Lisbon,
bound for Brazil in America.
Pointing to the map.) To this country here,
C 2
Dick.
g) to hang. h) to grow.
be.
lon.
28
longing to the Portuguese, where so much gold- dust and
diamonds are found; it is not, Papa?
Father. The very same Robinson made i) acquaintan-
ce with the captain of that ship, and when he heard him
talk of gold and diamonds, he determin'd by all means to
go to Brazil
that he might fill his pockets with such fi
ne things.
Nicholas. Then he had never heard, I suppose, that no
body is allowed to pick up any gold or diamonds there,
they all being the property of the king of Portugal.
Father. The reason of this is, because he did not like
to be instructed, when he was young Finding therefore
that the portuguese captain was disposed to take him there
gratis, and that the english ship would at least remain a
fortnight longer, he could not withstand the temptation,
and plainly told his friend the english captain, that he was
going to leave him, in order to sail for Brazil. This worthy
who but lately had heard from Robinson himself,
that he was travelling without his parents leave, was glad
to get rid of him; he made him a present of the money he
had lent him in England, and gave him many good lessons
into the bargain.
man,
Having bade j) an adieu to the english captain, Robin.
son went k) on board of the portuguese vessel, and they
presently got under sail for Brazil. They steered by Tene,
riff, on which they saw the high conic mountain,
Charlotte. I thought they called it the peak of Teneriff?
John. Why, that is the same thing; a peak is a conic
mountain. Well Papa!
Father. It was a glorious prospect in the evening, long
after sunset, and the sea all overspread with darkneſs
to see the top of this mountain, one of the highest in the
whole
i) to make. j) to bid. k) to go.
20
whole world, still glowing with sunbeams as if it were
on fire.
Some days after they had another very agreeable sigt upon
the sea.
A great number of flying fish rose above the sur-
face of the water, that shone ) like polished silver, so
that they caused a lustre like that of a burning candle.
Frederic. Are there any fish, that can fly?
Father. O yes, I think we have seen one already.
Theophilus. O yes, when we were lately in town, but
that had neither feathers nor wings.
Father. But it had long fins, these they use like wings,
and rise with them above the water.
Their voyage was very prosperous for many days; but
suddenly there arose a violent storm, from the south-east.
The foaming billows rose m) as high as mountains, whilst
the ship was tossed up and down by them. This: dreadful
storm continued six days and nights without any intermis-
sion, and the ship was so far driven from her course, that
neither the mate nor the captain knew where they were;
however they thought n) themselves to be near the Carib-
bee-islands (hereabouts)
On the seventh day, just when it began o) to dawn, one
of the sailors cried out: land! to the inexpressible joy of ali
the company.
Mother. Land! land! the supper is ready, to morrow
you shall hear more.
Theophilus. Oh, dear Mama, let us first hear, how they
went on shore, and what happened to them there! I would
willingly put up with a piece of bread, if we could but stay
here, and Papa would please to continue his story,
Father. I think so too, my dear, we had best eat our
supper here on the grafsplot.
C 3
1) to shine. ) to rise. m) to think. o) to begin.
Mo-
30
Mother. Just as you please; so, children, let me not de-
tain you from listening to your story, while I am preparing
things for supper.
All. Oh, that's charming, that's excellent!
Father. Now they all ran on deck, to see what land they
had made, but that same moment their joy was changed
into the greatest terror.
The ship began to crack, and all that were on deck,
got such a violent shock, that they fell p) flat down.
John. What was the matter?
Father. The ship had struck q) upon a sandbank, and
in that moment stuck r) so fast in it, as if she had been
nailed to the ground. Presently after the sea broke over her
in such a manner, that they all ran to the steerage and ca-
bin, to avoid being washed over board.
Now there were such lamentations heard among the ship's
crew, as would have excited compassion in the hardest
heart! Some were praying, others crying, some were wrin-
ging their hands as in a fit of despair, others stood stiff
and as immoveable, as if they had been dead. Robinson
was among the latter, more dead than alive.
All of a sudden one cried, the slip had split! which
dreadful news recalled all into life. They quickly returned
upon deck hoisted out the boat, and in the greatest hurry
jumped all into it.
!
But their number was so great, that, after they were all
in, the boat was scarce five inches above water.
They were yet at a great distance from the land, and the
storm was so violent, that every body thought it almost an
impossibility to reach the shore. However they plied their
oars, with the utmost diligence, and very luckily had the
wind with them.
pl) to fall. g) to strike. r) to stick.
Pre-
31
Presently they saw a wave like a lofty mountain rolling
after them. At this dreadful sight, they all stiffen'd
with terror, and dropts) their oars. Now the frightful
moment aproached! The monstrous wave reached the
boat, overset it and they all sunk t) down into the ra
ging sea!
(Here the father stopt u); the whole company remained
silent and many of them heaved a sigh of compas.
sion. At length the mother appeared with a rural
supper, and put an end to these moving sensations, )
s) to drop. #) to sink. a) to stop.
THIRD
THIRD EVENING.
Theophilus. Is Robinson now really dead then, dear Papa?
Father. We left v) him last night in the most imminent
danger of his life. When the boat was overset, he and all
his companions were w) swallowed up in a moment.
But the same monstrous wave bore x) him along towards
the shore, and dashed him with such violence against a
piece of a rock, that the pain of it roused him from the
slumbers of death, which had already seized on him. He
opened his eyes, and finding himself, contrary to what he
expected, on dry land, he used all his efforts to clamber
up the cliffs of the shore.
He succeeded, and being then quite tired and almost
spent, he sank y) down and remained a good while on
the ground without knowing any thing of himself.
At last however his eyes opened again, and he arose to
look around him. Good God, what a sight! There was
nothing to be seen, neither the ship, the boat, nor his
companions, except some planks, which the waves had
washed on shore. He, only he, had escaped death.
Trembling with joy and terror he fell on his knees, lifted
up his hands to heaven, and with a loud voice and flood
of tears, he thanked the Lord of heaven and earth, who
so miraculously had preserved him. —
ne,
John. But why did God Almighty preserve Robinson alo-
and why did he suffer all the rest to perish?
>> to leave.
w) to be. a) to bear. y) to sink.
Fa
33
Father. My dear John, are you always able to discover
the reasons, why we grown people, who love you hearti
ly, make you sometimes do one thing and sometimes
another?
John. No!
Father. For instance lately, when the weather was so
fine, and we all so desirous to make an excursion to the
Four-lands z), what did I then?
John. Why, then poor Nicholas was obliged to remain
at home, and the rest of us went to Wansbeck, and not
to the Four-lands ? as we wished.
Father. And why was I then so severe upon poor Nicho
las, that I would not suffer him to go along with us?
Nicholas. Oh, that I know very well! Bromley, our
clerk, came soon after to attend me to my parents, whom
I had not seen for a long while.
Father. And was not that a greater pleasure for you, than
going to the Four-lands?
Nicholas. O much greater! much greater!
Father. I knew a) before hand, that Bromley was to
come and attend you to your parents,
red you to stay.
in Wansbeck?
and therefore orde
And you John,
whom did you meet
John. My dear Papa and Mama, who were gone &)
thither.
Father. Of this also I was informed, and for the same
reason, desired you to go to Wansbeck, and not to the
Four-lands. My arrangement then did not please you,
be.
cause you did not know my reasons. But why did not I
tell them you?
John. To afford us an unexpected pleasure, by meeting
our parents, without knowing of it before.
Fa-
s) A fertile plain some miles from Hambro'. a) to know. b) to go.
24
Fathers Very right.
Now, my children, do you not
think that God Almighty loves his children, that is, all
mankind, as much as we love you?
Theophilus. O much more, surely!
Father. And have you not long since learnt, that God
knows every thing much better, than we poor short sighted
mortals do, who so seldom know, what is proper and
good for us?
John. O yes! God is omniscient, and knows all that is
to come; and that's what we can not.
Father. Thus God Almighty, loving all mankind so ten-
derly, and being at the same time so wise, that he alone
knows what is proper for us, should he not always do the
best for us?
Theophilus. O yes, certainly!
Father. But can we always know, why God disposes of
us this way, and not otherwise?
John. If we knew that, we should be as omniscient as
he is himself!
Father. Now, dear John, have you a mind to repeat your
last question once more?
John. Which?
Father. Why God preserved only Robinson and suffered
the rest to perish?
John. No, Papa.
Father. Why not?
John. Because I now perceive, that it was an unreasona
ble question.
Father. Why unreasonable?
John. Because God knows best, why he does a thing,
and that we cannot know!
Father. Undoubtedly, then God Almighty had his wise
and good reasons for suffering the whole crew to perish,
and singling Robinson out to be saved; but we cannot con-
ceive
35
ceive these reasons. We may indeed form some conjectures,
but we must never imagine to have hit upon them.
God might, for instance, have foreseen, that in prolon.
ging the lives of those, whom he suffered to be drowned,
they would fall into great misery, or even become vicious
and wicked; and therefore he removed them from this
world, and conducted their immortal souls to a place, where
their condition is better than here on earth. He proba
bly spared Robinson, that he might be mended by sufferings
and misery. For as he is always a very kind father, he
endeavours to mend us by sufferings, if we will not do so
of our own accord, when he is bountiful and indulgent to us.
Be mindful of this, my good children, and always think
of it, when in your future days any misfortune befalls you,
and when you cannot conceive, why your good heavenly
Father has ordered it so. Then recollect, that God best
knows, what is good for us, and suffer willingly, what
he has ordained! He certainly makes us suffer, to render
us better than we are; we will therefore suffer patiently and
God will grant us happier days again.
Dick. Did Robinson imagine so now?
Father. Yes, now that he was rescued from losing his
life, and that he saw himself without the assistance of any
human creature; now he felt c), from the inmost of his
heart,
the wrong he had done; now he fell on his knees
and begged pardon of God for the sins he had committed;
be now firmly resolved to mend and never to do any thing
again, which he knew to be wrong.
Nicholas. But, what did he do now?
Father. When the joy he felt for his preservation had
subsided, he began to reflect on his present situation; he
looked around, but he discovered nothing bat bushes and
trees
c) to feel.
36
trees without fruit! He saw nothing from which he might
conclude that this country was inhabited.
It was indeed a frightful thought to him; now to live
quite alone in an unknown country. But his hair stood d)
on an end, when he reflected how he should live? if there
were any wild beasts or savages, for which he could not
be safe one moment.
Frederic. But are there really any savages?
John. Why, yes! did you never hear of them? there are
far, very far from here, men, who are as wild as brutes!
Theophilus. Who go almost naked, what do you think
of that,
Frederic!
Dick. Ay, and who know scarce any thing in the world,
who can build no houses, have no gardens, and cultivate
no fields!
Charlotte. And who eat raw flesh, and raw fish; I rea
member it very well. Papa, didn't you tell us of them?
John. Ay! and what d'ye think? these poor people are
entirely ignorant of their Creator, because they never had
an instructor.
!
Dick. For that very reason, they are so barbarous! only
think, some of them even eat man's flesh!
Frederic. Oh, what shocking people!
Father. What unhappy people, you should say! These
poor wretches are unhappy enough, to have grown up in
such stupidity and brutishneſs.
Frederic. Do any of them ever come here?
Father. No; the countries, where these poor people
live, are
so distant from here, that none of them ever
Their number also lessens, because other ci
vilized men, who go to their country, take pains, to in-
struct and civilize them.
come to us.
d) to stand.
Dick,
37
Dick. But pray, were there any in that country, where
Robinson now was?
Father. That he could not know as yet. But having once
heard, that there lived such people in the islands of this
part of the Globe, he thought it probable, there might be
some, and this put him so much in fear, that all his limbs
trembled.
Theophilus. Indeed! there would have been no joking,
if there had been any!
Father. At first he had not the courage to stir from his
place, for fear and terror. The least noise frightened and
startled him.
At last he grew so thirsty, that he could bear it no lon-
ger. He therefore saw himself forced to look about for so-
ine fresh water; and very luckily he found a fine clear
spring, at which he might quench his thirst. Oh what
a blessing is a draught of fresh water for him, who suffers
thirst!
Robinson thanked God for it, hoping, that he would also
afford him something to eat. He that feeds the fowls of the
air, thought he, will not suffer me to perish with hunger!
Indeed he was not yet very hungry, because fear and ter
ror had taken away his appetite: but he longed the more
for rest. He was
so worn e) out with all he had suffered
of late, that he had scarce strength enough left, to stand
on his legs.
But where should he paſs the night. On the ground un.
der the canopy of Heaven? But then savages and wild
beasts might come and devour him! As far as his eyes could
reach, he saw neither house, hut or cave. He stood a
while quite comfortlefs and knew not what to do.
At length he resolved to pafs the night on a tree like a
bird.
D
e) to wear.
38
bird. He soon found one, the boughs of which were thick
enough, that he might commodiously sit upon one and lean
his back against some others. He climbed up this tree,
made his fervent prayers to God, placed himself as well as
he could and fell asleep directly.
In his sleep he dreamt f) of all he had suffered the day
before. He thought he saw his parents, weeping, sighing,
wringing their hands for him, in the greatest affliction and
their hearts almost broken g) and all on his account! A
cold sweat broke out at every pore. He cried aloud: Here
I am! Here I am, my dear parents! and thus crying, he
was going to throw himself into his parents arms,
motion in his sleep, and fell miserably down from his tree,
Charlotte. Oh poor Robinson!
.
Theophilus. I suppose he is killed by his fall?
made a
Father. To his good fortune, he had not been very
high, and the ground underneath was so overgrown with
grafs that he did not fall very hard. He only felt a slight
pain in that side, on which he had fallen; which, and as
he had suffered much more in his dream, he did not value
much. He then climbed up again into the tree, and remain-
ed there till sunrise.
He then began h) to reflect, where he might get some
thing to eat. He had none of those eatables we have in
Europe. He had no bread, no meat, no vegetables, no
milk; and tho' he had any of these things to boil or roast,
he yet wanted fire, spit and pots. All the trees he had
hitherto seen were what they call Campechio trees (Log-
wood trees), which bore i) nothing but leaves.
John. What sort of trees are they?
-
Father. Trees, the wood of which dyers make use of
for different purposes. They grow in some parts of Ame
ƒ) to dream. g) to break. h) to begin. f) to bear,
rica
39
rica, and are brought j) in great abundance to Europe.
This wood, when boiled, gives the water a dark red co-
lour, and this the dyers use, to shade other colours with,
But let us return to our Robinson!
He came down from his tree, without knowing what to
do. As he had eaten nothing all the day before, he began
to feel a most violent hunger, which made him run about
some thousand steps, to see whether he might not discover
some eatable things, but all to no purpose, he found no-
thing but trees without fruit and graſs.
Being now in the greatest anxiety, he cried out, I shall
starve with hunger, and wept aloud to heaven. Necessity
however gave him strength and courage to run along the
shore, in order to see if it were not possible to find some
eatables at last.
But all in vain! nothing but Campechio- trees, nothing
but grafs and sand every where! Tired and exhausted he
flung k) himself with his face to the ground, cried aloud,
and wished he had been drowned rather than to perish now
so miserably with hunger!
He had already resolved, to wait for a slow and dreadful
death in this distressful situation, when turning accidentally
his eyes upwards, he discovered a gull flying with a fish
thro' the air. He instantly recollected to have read some-
where:,, That God who feeds the ravens, will not suffer man
to starve." He now blamed himself, for having had so little
confidence in God's providence; he then jumped up from
the ground, with a firm resolution, to walk and seek about
as long as his strength would permit him. So he now con-
tinued walking along the shore and looking about on all sides
for something to eat.
At last he found some oyster-shells lying on the shore. He
1) to bring. k) to fling.
Da
eagerly
10
eagerly ran towards them and carefully examined the spot in
hopes of finding some real oysters, and to his unspeakable
joy he found some.
John. Do oysters lie so on the shore?
Father. It is not their proper place. Their abode is in
the sea, where they cling to one another against the sides
of rocks, so as to form small hills, which are called Oy-
sterbeds, but many of them are washed away by the wa.
ves, and carried on shore by the tide, and when the sea
begins to ebb they remain on the dry land.
Frederic. Pray, what is the tide ?
Charlotte. Don't you know? why, when the water rises.
and falls again.
Frederic. What water, pray?
Charlotte. Why, the water of the sea?
Friend R. Frederic, let your brother John explain that to
you, he will be able to give you an idea of it.
John. Who? I? Well, I'll see! Have you never ob.
served, that the water in the Elb sometimes rises higher
than usual, and sometimes after falls again, so that you may
then walk, where the water was before.
Frederic. O yes, that I have seen very often!
John. Well, now when the water swells so, as to cover
the shore, they call it high water; but when it runs off
again so as to leave the shore dry, they call it ebb or low
water.
Father. Now I must tell you Frederic, that the water in
the sea thus rises and falls twice in the course of twenty
four hours. It continues swelling on for six hours and some
odd minutes, and is sinking again for a little more than six
hours. The former they call high and the latter low water;
do you underſtand it now?
Frederic. I do, but pray, what makes the water swell and
sink again?
The
41
Theophilus. Oh! that I know very well. It is the moon,
that attracts the water so as to make it rise.
Nicholas. Oh we have heard that so often! Let Papa con-
tinue his story.
Father. Another time, Frederic, I'll tell you more of this
matter,
Robinson was now out of his wits for joy, at having
found something to allay the violence of his hunger. It is
true, the oysters he found were not sufficient to satisfy him
fully, but he was glad to have found something.
His greatest concern was next, where he should live for
the future, so as to be secured against savages and wild
beasts. His first night's lodging had been attended with so
many incoveniencies, that the very thought of it made him
shudder.
Theophilus. I know very well, what I should have done,
Father. Well, and what would you have done?
Theophilus. Why, I would have built 1) a house, with
very thick walls and thick iron doors. I would have made
a ditch all round with a drawbridge, which I would have
drawn up every night; and then I am sure, the savages
could not have hurt me in my sleep.
Father. Oh clever! it is great pity you were not there
to assist poor Robinson with your good advice!
But,
now I think of it: did you ever observe with any attention,
how carpenters and bricklayers set about building houses.
Theophilus. O yes! very often. The bricklayers begin
with preparing the lime, and mixing it with sand; they then
lay one brick upon the other, and with their trowels put
mortar between, so as to made them keep fast to one ano.
ther. This done, the carpenters square the beams with their
hatchets and make them fit together. After this they draw
D 3
up
1) to build.
42
the
up the beams by a pully and fix them upon the brickwork.
Then they saw boards and laths which they nail upon
rafters to fix the tiles upon; and then
Father. I see, you have been a very attentive observer of
house building. But as the bricklayers want lime, trowels,
bricks or stones which must first be squared, and as the car
penters want batchets, saws, gimlets, nails,
squares and
hammers, where would you have got all these things, had
you been in Robinson's place?
Theophilus. Nay, that I don't know.
Father. Nor Robinson neither, and tho' his desire of
building a real house was very srong, he was obliged to
give up the scheme. He had no other tools but his two
hands,
and with them alone he could not build such a
house as we live in.
Nicholas. Why, then he might at least have made him-
self a hut of branches, which he might easily break from
the trees.
Father. And could such a hut of branches have secured
him against serpeats, wolves, panthers, tygers, lions and
other wild animals ?
John. Oh poor Robinson! what will now become of you!
Nicholas. But could he not shoot them?
Father. Oh yes, if he had had a gun with powder and balls!
But the poor fellow, we know, had nothing of all this,
nothing at all, except his two hands!
Reflecting now on his forlorn condition he again relapsed
into his former despondency. What does it avail me, thought
he, that I have escaped dying of hunger, when I am likely.
to be devoured by wild beasts at night.
These afflicting thoughts work'd so forcibly upon him,
that he really thought, he saw a fierce tyger standing be
fore him, with his jaws open and shewing his large pointed
teeth; then falling upon him and seizing him by the throat.
In
43
oh my poor parents!
In this terrible fright he cried out:
and then sunk m) motionleſs to the ground.
Having lain n) a while in this sit of anxiety and despair,
he recollected, what he had often heard his pious mother
sing, when any sad accident had befallen her. The hymn
begins thus:
رو
"
"
29.
15
Whoever places all his trust
And confidence on God the Lord,
When he is suffering in the dust,
The Lord will him relief afford;
Whoever trusts his mighty hand,
Has not his hope built on the sand.
This was
a real cordial for him! He repeated this fine
hymn twice, or thrice, with great devotion, then he sang
o) it aloud, rising at the same time from the ground, to
look about for some cavern, that might afford him a safe
retreat.
Where he properly was, on the continent or an island
of America? he could not know as yet. But seeing a
hill at some distance, he went towards ita
On his way, he made the melancholy observation, that
this country bore p) nothing but unfruitful trees and graſs.
You may easily guefs, what were his reflections on seeing
such a barren place.
With great difficulty be at last climbed up this pretty high
hill, and then took a view of the country for many miles
round him. He then beheld with terror, that he was in an
island, and as far as his eyes could reach, he saw no land
at all, except some small islands, which lay at some distance.
Forlorn creature, forlorn creature!" he cried, his hands
auxiously folded and lifted up to heaven.
Is it then true,
that I am debarred from all communication with mankind,
رو
D 4
m) to sink. s) to lie. o) to sing.) to bear,
for.
44
forsaken by all, and no hopes left me of ever being deli
ver'd from this dreary desart? Oh my poor afflicted parents!
Am I then never to see you again! shall I never be able
to beg your pardon for my offence! shall I never hear
again the comfortable voice of a friend, of a man! - But
I am rigtly served," continued he. Oh Lord, thou dealest
justly with me! I have no right to complain. My fate is
such as I deserve!
"
Absorbed in these desponding cogitations and as in a dream
he remained motionleſs in the same place, his staring eyes
fixed to the ground, Forsaken by God and men!" was all
Happily for him he at last recollected
he could utter
>>
another verse of the same beautiful hymn:
"
""
When prest with grief do not despair,
Nor think God has forsaken thee:
Or that he's God's peculiar care
Who liveth in prosperity!
Time often changes here our fate
And limits grief, however great!
With servent zeal he now fell on his knees promised
patience and resignation in his sufferings, and begged for
strength to support them.
Charlotte. It was very lucky for Robinson to know such
Ene hymns, that could comfort him now in his distress.
-
Father. Certainly it was very lucky! What would now
have become of him, if he had not known, that God is the
merciful, almighty and omnipresent father of all mankind.
He wou'd have been overwhelmed with anguish and despair,
if he had not been taught q), to think so of God. But this
very thought of his heavenly father, afforded him always
comfort and courage, when his misery seemed to encrease,
and made him entirely submit to the will of Providence.
Char-
1) to teach.
45
Charlotte. Pray, Papa! will you give me some more
instructions about God Almighty, as you have done to the
rest ?
Father. With great pleasure, my dear girl! I shall not
fail, to teach you more and more of our Almighty God
every day, as you grow more sensible. You know, I am
never more pleased, than when I speak of him, who is so
good, so great and so kind.
Charlotte. Oh fine; and I never have any greater plea.
sure, than when you entertain us of God Almighty. I really
long to hear you talk of him again.
Father. You have good reason for it, Charlotte! For
when you come to be better acquainted with God, you will
double your endavours to become good, and you will then
enjoy much greater happiness than you do now.
Robinson now felt r) himself greatly strengthened, and
began to scramble about the bill. His endeavours to find
out some secure retreat, for a long time, proved unsuccefs-
ful. At length he came to a small hill, the side of which
was as steep as a wall. Upon a nearer examination of that
side, he found a hollow place in it, the entrance of which
was pretty narrow.
Had he had a pickaxe, a chisel or any other iron instru-
ments, nothing would have been easier than to work out
this hollow place, which was partly a rock, to enlarge it,
and make it convenient for him to live in. But alas! he
had none of these instruments! Now the question was
what to do to supply their place.
After having puzzled his brain a long while about it, he
said to himself: The trees, I here see, resemble the
willows of my own country, which may easily be transplan-
ted. I will grub up a great many of those young trees, with
my
r) to feel.
46
my hands, and plant them round about this hole, so close
together as to form a wall of them; and when they grow
thicker and higher, I shall then be as safe within them
as if I were in a house: for froin behind 1 shall be shelter-
ed by the steep rock; and these trees will secure me on
the other side."
He was greatly rejoiced at this happy thought, and di.
rectly ran s) to put it in execution. To his great delight,
he perceived a clear spring, bubbling out of the rock just
by this place; he made up to it in order to quench his
thirst, being very dry from the scorching heat of the sun
and his running and scrambling about the hill.
Theophilus. Was it then so very warm, in his island?
Father. That you may easily imagine! Look here (poin-
ting to the map) are the Caribbee - Islands, of which that,
Robinson now lived in, probably was one.
Now you see
these islands are not very far from what is called the Line,
where the sun stands sometimes perpendiculary over the
people's heads. It must therefore be very warm in those.
quarters.
With a great deal of trouble, he at last pulled up some
young trees from the ground with his hands, and carried
them to the place he had chosen t) for his habitation. Here
he was obliged to make holes with his hands, in order to
plant them; and as his work went on but very slowly;
night came on, when he had planted no more than five
or six of his trees.
Urged by hunger, he again returned to the sea shore, to
look for some oysters. But unluckily for him, the tide was
up and consequently he found noue, and was obliged, to
lay himself down that night with an empty stomach.
But where could he lie down?
s) to run. ) to chose.
He had resolved, to
con
47
continue sleeping on the tree, till he had made himself a
securer habitation. Thither he now went.
But to prevent the same unlucky accident, that happened
to him the night before, he fastened himself with his gar-
ters to that branch, against which he leaned with his back,
and having recommended himself to his Creator, he fell asleep.
John. That was well done!
Father. Necessity teaches us a great deal, which in other
circumstances we should never have the least idea of. For
that same reason God has disposed the world and ourselves
so, that we have many wants, which we are obliged to
satisfy, by reflection and ingenuity. And these very wants
make us wiser and more sensible. For if we found every
thing ready made and prepared; if houses, beds, clothes,
victuals, drink and all the rest, we want for the preser-
vation and conveniency of life, grew of their own accord
ready made and prepared, out of the ground; we certainly
should do nothing but eat, drink and sleep, and then we
should remain as stupid as brutes to the day of our death.
Nicholas. God Almighty has then done very wisely, not
to let every thing grow thus ready made prepared out of
the ground.
But
Father. Just as he ordered every thing throughout the
whole creation with infinite goodnefs and' wisdom.
behold! yonder the beautiful evening star! how friendly it
sparkles above us.
This too our heavenly Father has cre.
ated, and we will go and give him our heartly thanks for
the agreeable day he has granted us,
Come, my chil
dren! let us hand in hand walk to yon bower!
FOURTH
FOURTH EVENING.
Father. Well, my good children, where did we leave
our Robinson last night?
John. He had climb'd into his tree again to sleep there,
and
Father. Very right, I know it!
better he did not fall down again,
untill the next morning.
This time he fared
but slept u) soundly
At dawn of day he first ran to the sea shore, to look for
oysters, and then he returned to his work. This time be
took another way, and had the pleasure of discovering a
tree with large fruits. It is true, he did not know what
fruits they were; but he flattered himself with the hopes,
that they would be eatable, and in that confidence knock'd
down one of them.
as big as a child's head. The
It was a triangular nut,
outward shell was fibrous, as if made of hemp. The second
shell on the contrary, was as solid and as hard as turtle
shell; and Robinson soon conceived that he might use it as
a bowl, this shell being so spacious that a certain little
longtailed american ape, called Saccawinka, can live in it.
The kernel was exceedingly juicy and tasted like a hazel-
nut, and in the middle of it, which was hollow, he
found a
sweet juice which was very refreshing. The juice
may be let out by means of three holes, nature formed in
them, without breaking the hard inner shell:
a very
wise contrivance, without which most of this wholesome
juice
49
juice would be spilled. This was
This was a very delicious meal for
our half starved Robinson! His empty stomach was not sa-
tisfied with one nut only; he knocked down a second and
a third, which he ate u) with as good an appetite, as he
had done the first. A grateful tear started in his eyes for
joy at this discovery.
The tree was pretty high, and without branches, like
the palm trees; but had only a crown consisting of long
leaves in the shape of a broad-sword.
Theophilus. And pray, what sort of tree might that be?
There are none such here.
*
Father. It was a cocoa tree, which are chiefly found
in the East-Indies, and here in the islands of the South-
I
sea. How this tree might come into Robinson's Island,
cannot tell; it is not usual to find them in the American
islands.
John. I should be glad to see a cocoa- nut!
Father. Should you?
Well, stay; I can show you
something, that looks very much like one.
(The father luckily had receiv'd one as a present a
short time before. He went to fetch it. At his return
with the large nut in his hand, they all flew v) to
him with exclamations of surprise, uncertain, whether
they should believe their eyes).
Father. Well, what do you think this to be?
John. Why, I suppose this is a real cocoa. nut?
Father. As real a one, as ever grew in the Indies.
All. Indeed!
Nicholas. And, pray Papa, where did you get it?
Father. You all know, I have not been in the East
none
indies; and that there are none to be sold w) here in
Hamburgh. If I had not had some friend, to present me
E
#) to eat. v) to fly, w) to sell.
with
50
with one,
we should not have the pleasure of seeing this
remarkable fruit, so rare in this country.
Mother. Look, how good it is, that people do not
mind their own pleasure only, but are likewise solicitous
for that of others! If the good gentleman, who gave us
this, had only minded himself, he would have eaten it,
and we should not have seen it. But be has generously
spared it from his own mouth, to please us, most of whom
he never saw.
Theophilus. And who is this good gentleman?
Father. Our friend Captain Muller, whom you saw
two years ago, when we were at Stade.
Nicholas. Oht aye! the good-natured gentleman, . who
came to see us at York?
Father. The same
him as he made it us;
open the shell.
-
May this evening be as happy to
inean while let us try, if we cannot
After much ado the outward fibrous shell was opened,
and the nut taken out. Hereupon they opened one of
the three small holes in the inner hard shell and a
whole tea cup full of juice ran out. This milk was
not found so agreeable as it is generally described;
perhaps, because the nut was too old or had been
taken from the tree before it was quite ripe. At last
the nut was cut open with a saw, to get in the white
kernel, which every one found more agreeable, than
the sweetest hazelnut. This was a delicious feast for
the young folks).
Dick. Blefs me! what a deal of trouble it must have
given to poor Robinson, to open that hard shell!
Father. That you may now judge, having seen how
much pains it cost us, tho' we have sharp knives and a
which Robinson had not. But what difficulty can be
great for an hungry man, who has the hopes of eating
his fill.
saw,
Tho'
51
Tho' Robinson had now satisfied his hunger, yet he ran
to the seashore, to see, if he cou'd find any oysters.
He indeed found some, but not enough to make a good
meal of He had therefore good reason to be thankful to
God Almighty, for letting him another kind of food; and
this he really did with an affected heart.
The oysters he had found, he took along with him for
his dinner, and now he returned to his work with renewed
courage.
On the shore he had found a large muscle-shell, which
served him instead of a spade, and rendered his work much
lighter. A short time after he discovered a plant, the stalk
of which was fibrous like flax or hemp. At any other period,
he would not have minded. this; but now nothing was in-
different to him; he examined every thing, and considered,
whether he might not convert it to some use or other.
In hopes, that this plant might be employed like flax or
hemp, he pulled up a great deal of it, tied it up in smal
bundles and laid them in water. Some days after, when
he perceived that the coarse part of the stalk was soaked,
enough, he took the bundles out again, and spread them
abroad in the sun. As soon as they were sufficiently dry,
he made a trial whether they might not be broken x) li
ke flax, which he tried to do with a great stick and he
succeeded.
After this he tried to twist thin ropes of this flax. It is
true, he could not make them so firm, as those made by
our rope-makers; because he neither had a wheel, nor any
body, to assist him. However they were strong enough to
tie his large muscle-shell to a stick, by which means he
got an instrument, not much unlike a spade.
·
He now vigorously prosecuted his work, and planted his
a) to break.
E. 2.
trees
52
trees close together: till at last he had 'encompassed the
small space before his future dwelling. But as one row of
thin trees did not seem a sufficient shelter for him, he
took the trouble to plant a second. These two rows he af
terwards interwove y) with green twigs, and at last he con-
ceived the idea, of filling up the space between them with
earth This now formed so solid a wall, that to break
through it, would have required a considerable force.
Every morning and evening he watered his little planta
tion, from the neighbouring spring. His cocoa-shell ser-
ved him instead of a watering pot. He soon had the hap-
pineſs of seeing his young trees budding and becoming
green; a charming view to him!
Having now almost compleated his hedge, he employed
a whole day in twisting ropes, and making himself a lad-
der of them, as well as he could,
Dick And for what purpose?
Father. You shall hear. He intended to have no door
at all to his habitation, but even to fill up with trees the
opening he had left.
Dick. But how could he get in and out then?
✔
Father. By means of this ladder. The rock above his
habitation was about two stories high. On the top of it
there was a tree, to this he fastened his ladder, and let
it hang down to the ground. Then he tried, whether it
were strong enough for him to get up and down, and it
succeeded to his wish.
Having accomplished all this, he began to consider, by
what means he might scoop out the hollow within the hill,
in order to make it large enough for his habitation. His
bare hands wou'dn't do, that he foresaw; but what then
cou'd he do? He was obliged to look about him for so.
mething to serve his purpose.
y) to interweave.
With
53
With this view he went to a spot,
great number of hard green stones.
where he had seen a
Whilst he was very
carefully looking among them, he found one, the sight of
which made his heart palpitate for joy.
This stone was exactly shaped like a hatchet,
>
one end of
it quite sharp and on the other there was a hole in
which he might fasten a handle. Robinson instantly saw,
that he should be able to make a tolerable hatchet of it, if
he could only make the hole a little larger. This after much
trouble, he at last happily effected by means of another
stone; and by means of the cords of his
fastened it to a strong handle as firm,
nailed to it.
own making he
as if it had been
Then he tried, whether he could not cut down a young
tree with it, which succeeded to his unspeakable joy. You
might have offered him a thousand dollars for this hatchet
and he would not have taken them, such were the advanta
ges he expected from it.
Searching again among these stones, he espied two others,
that likewise promised to be of great service to him. One
had the form of a maller, such as masons and joiners use;
the other was shaped like a short club,
and sharp at one
took'em z) both,
end like a wedge. Robinson full of joy,
and ran a) to his habitation, where he directly fell to work.
He succeeded most excellently. He placed his stone-
wedge against the rock, struck b) on it with his mallet and
by that means knocking off one piece after the other, he
enlarged his cavern. In a few days he was so far advanced,
that he thought it spacious enough to serve him as an ha.
bitation to sleep in.
He had, sometime before this, been pulling up with his
hands a great deal of grafs and spread it in the sun to dry.
E 3
z) i. e. took them, a) to run. 6) to strike.
This
54
This grafe being now sufficiently dry he carried it into his
cavern, and made himself a commodious bed of it.
And now nothing hindered him from sleeping again as a
human creature, after having past above eight nights perch-
ed upon a tree like a bird. Oh, what comfort it was for
him, to stretch his weary limbs upon a soft bed of hay !
He thanked God for it, and thought within himself: Oh,
did my countrymen in Europe but know, what it is to paſs
so many nights sitting on a hard branch; sure they would
think themselves very happy, because they can stretch them-
selves on
a soft and secure bed, and they would not for-
get every night to return thanks to God Almighty for this
benefit.
The next day was a sunday, which Robinson devoted
to rest, to prayers, and reflexions
and reflexions on himself. He lay
whole hours on his knees, his eyes full of tears lifted
up to heaven, praying to God Almighty to pardon his ma-
nifold sins, and to blefs and comfort his poor parents. Then
with tears of joy he thanked God for the miraculous assis-
tance, he had grant him in his forlorn condition, and vow-
ed to amend daily and promised filial obedience for ever.
Charlotte. Now Robinson is become much better, than
he was before!
Father God Almighty knew very well, that he would
mend, when he should come to be in distrefs, and there-
fore made him suffer. The ways of our heavenly Father are
always such with us. He makes us sometimes suffer, not
from anger but from love, and because he knows, that we
should not mend otherwise.
Now Robinson bethought c) himself of making an alma.
nack, that he might not forget the succession of days and
when it was sunday,
e) to bethink,
John.
55
John. An almanack!
Father. It was indeed not one so exactly printed upon
paper, as those made use of in Europe, but one which
enabled him to count the days.
John. And how did he make it, přay?
a
Father. Having no paper, nor any other materials for
writing, he pitched upon four trees that had a smooth
bark, and stood d) together. In the largest of them, he
made a notch every evening with a stone, to signify that a
day was past. Now, when he had made seven notches,
week was ended, and then he made another notch in the
next tree,
to signify that a week was past. Whenever he
had made four notches in the second tree, he made one
in the third, to signify that a whole month was past
and when he had at last made twelve of these monthly not-
ches he made one in the fourth tree, to signify that a
whole year was expired.
>
Dick. But the months are not all of equal length! Some
have thirty and some have one and thirty days. How did
he then know how many days every month has?
Father. That he could count on his fingers.
John. On his fingers!
Father. Yes; and if you will, I'll shew you how?
All. Oh yes! yes! dear Papa!
Father.. Now mind me! --- Look, he closed his hand
in this manner; then he pointed with one finger of his right
hand to the first knuckle of his left, then in the hollow
between this and the next knuckle, and so on naming the
months in their successive order. Every month, that falls
on a knuckle, has one and thirty days, and those months
that fall between, have only thirty, February excepted,
which has never thirty, but only twenty eight, and every
E 4
fourth
d) to stand.
56
fourth year twenty nine days; thus pointing to the knuckle
of the forefinger of his left hand, he named January as the
first month of the year, and how many days has that month?
John. One and thirty.
Father. Now I will continue to count the months in this
and you John, you may tell the number of the
days; 60, in the second place, February.
manner,
John. Should have thirty, but has only twenty eight
and sometimes twenty-nines
Father. March
John. One and thirty、
Father. April,
John. Thirty.
Father. May.
John. One and thirty.
Father. June.
John. Thirty
Father. July
John. One and thirty.
Father. August.
(Pointing to the knuckle of the thumb.)
John. Thirty-one.
Father. September
John. Thirty?
Father. October.
John Thirty-one.
Father. November.
John. Thirty.
Father. December.
John. One and thirty days.
Father. Did you observe in the almanack, if it were right?
Dick. Yes, Sir, I did; it was all just to a hair!
Father. Such things, as these, ought to be well obser
red, because we have not always an almanack about us,
and
57
and yet it may sometimes be of importance for us, to know
how many days are in every month.
John. O! I shall not forget it again.
Dick. Nor I; I have taken good notice of it!
not to lose
Father. In this manner Robinson took care,
his account of time, that he might always know, which
day was sunday, and celebrate it like a christian.
Now he had consumed the greatest part of the cocoa-nuts
of his single tree, and the sea afforded him so few oysters,
that he could not subsist on them alone. He therefore began
again to be concerned, on account of his future sustenance.
For fear of encountering wild beasts or savages, he had
hitherto not dared to venture far from his habitation, But
now necessity forced him, to take courage, and to look
a little farther about him in the island, in order to disco-
ver new provisions. He therefore resolved with the assis
tance of God, to make a tour the day following.
To screen himself from the scorching heat of the sun, he
employed that evening, in making himself an umbrella.
Nicholas. And where did he get the linen and whale.
bone for it?
+
Father. He had neither linen, nor whalebone, nor knife,
nor scissars, neither needle or thread,
do
and yet
you think he set about making an umbrella?
Nicholas. Nay, that I don't know!
how
Father. He took some willow twigs and twisted them inte
a kind of a roof, in the middle of which he put a stick
which he fasten'd with packthread of his own making; then
he fetch'd some cocoa-leaves, which he fastened over his
twisted roof with pins.
1
John. With pins! and pray, where did he get them?
Father. Can't you gueſs?
Charlotte. Oh I know! he certainly had found them
among the sweepings, and between the boards on the floor;
there I find some very often!
John.
58
John. Oh, you have hit it finely! as if pins were to be
found, where none were ever lost! And how could Ro-
binson have any boards or sweepings in his cavern?
Father. Well, who can gueſs it? How would you
have done, if you had had any thing to fasten with pins
and you had none?
John. I should use prickles of thorns.
Theophilus. And those of gooseberry bushes.
Father. That's something. However 1 must tell you,
that Robinson used neither the one nor the other, because
he had never seen any thorns or gooseberry bushes in his
island.
John. Well, and what did he use then, pray?
Father Fish- bones. The sea now and then threw dead
fish on shore; and after they were either rotten or eaten
by birds of prey, the bones remained on the shore. Of
these, Robinson had gathered the strongest and sharpest &
to use them instead of pins.
By means of these bones, he made himself so close an
umbrella, that the sun beams could not penetrate it. When
ever he succeeded in any of the like undertakings, he felt
an inexpressible joy, and then he used to say to himself:
,, What a fool was
in my youth, to spend most of my
time in idlenefs! Oh, if I were now in Europe and had
those instruments, which are so easily to be had there
how many things would I not make! What a joy it would
be for me, to make myself most of the things I should have
Occasion for!
As it was not yet very late, it came into his head try,
to whether he should not be able, to make himself a kind
of pouch, to carry some provisions with him, and to bring
back whatever eatables he should by chance discover. Ha
ving a while reflected on the means, he was at last so hap
py as to find them.
Ha
59
Having already a good stock of packtbread, he resolved
to make a net of it, and then to form it into a hunter'spouch.
This he did in the following manner. He fastened his pack
thread to two trees, about a yard distance from each other,
and every thread as close as possible under the other; this
was to be the Warp, as the weavers call it. This done, he
began to fasten and to tie his threads from the top to the
bottom very close, making a knot on every cross thread he
met e), just as the net-makers do. These threads going
up and down were consequently the Woof. And thus he soon
made himself a net, not unlike a fishing-net. He then loosed
the ends from the tree, fastened them together on one side
and at the bottom, leaving the upper part open. And thus,
he had a kind of a hunter'spouch, which he flung f) about
his neck, with a small cord, made of packthread, fasten
ed to the upper end of it.
He could hardly sleep that whole night, for joy at the
happy succefs of his undertaking.
Theophilus. Oh, I should like to make myself such a bag too!
Nicholas. And so should I; if we had but packthread.
Mother. To be so delighted with your work, as Robinson
was with his, you must make the packthread yourselves,
and also prepare the flax and hemp with your own hands.
But as this is not ripe enough yet, I'll give you some packthread
Theophilus. Oh, will you, dear Mama!
Mother. Most willingly, if you desire it. Come along,
we will fetch some.
Theophilus. Oh, that's excellent!
Charlotte. You do very well, to imitate these things. For if you
should happen one day or other to be cast on such an uninhabi
ted Island, you will know, how to manage. Is it not true, Papa?
Father. Very right, do so! Now we will let our Ro-
binson sleep till to-morrow! ---
In the mean time I'll see,
if I cannot learn of him the art of making an umbrella.
e) to meet. f) to fing.
FIFTH
FIFTH EVENING.
The next evening, when the company were again assem-
bled in their usual place, Nicholas appear'd with a hunter's
bag of bis own making, by which he drew g) the eyes of
all present upon him. Instead of an umbrella, he had bor-
rowed a sieve from the cook, which he carried on a stick
above his head. His whole deportment was grave and majestic.
Mother. Bravo, Nicholas, that's well done. I had almost
taken you for Robinson himself.
John. I could not get my pouch ready, otherwise you
should have seen me so too!
Theophilus. This is just my case.
Father. It is well, that one of you at least has finished
one; -now we see, that it is possible, to make such things.
But your umbrella, Nicholas, is good for nothing!
Nicholas. Nay, I only wanted to have one for to-day,
and I could not have a better one in so short a time!
Father. Taking one of his own making from behind
the hedge.) What do you say to this, Friend Robinson?
Nicholas. Oh, that's a fine one!
Father. I'll keep it, till we end our story, and he,
who then can make most of those things, that Robinson
made, shall be our Robinson and have this umbrella.
Theophilus. Must he also make himself a hut?
Father. Why not.
g) to draw.
All.
61
All. Oh, that is excellent! that is delightful!
Father. Robinson could scarce wait till day-break; he
rose hy before the sun, and prepared himself for his journey.
He put his pouch about his shoulders, girded a rope round his
waist, hung i: his hatchet in it, instead of a sword, then took
his umbrella on his shoulder, and walked off very cheerfully.
He first went to his cocoa - tree, to fill his bag with one
or two nuts; then to the sea-shore, to get some oysters,
and having provided himself with both and taken a draught of
fresh water for his breakfast, he set cut on his journey.
It was a charming morning, the sun was just then rising
in all his lustre as out of the ocean and gilding the tops of
the mountains and trees. A thousand small birds of various
coulours were singing their morning lays, and rejoicing at
the return of light. The air was as pure and as refreshing,
as if it was just issuing out of the hands of the Creator;
and herbs and flowers diffused their sweetest odours,
"
Robinson's heart dilated with joy and gratitude to his God.
Here again," said he to himself, God shews Himfelf
as the most bountiful!" He then mixed his voice with
those of the birds, and sung k) with a loud voice as follows:
My strengthen'd soul be thy first care
To praiſe the mighty Lord;
To praise thy God, my soul, prepare
Thy song is not unheard.
To guard myself too weak indeed,
I slept in peace reclin'd;
Then who protected me in need?
Whose power lull'd my mind?
'Twas Thou, o Lord, 't was Thou alone,
We move alone in Thee;
F
h) to rise. i) to hang. k) to sing.
Thou
Thou savest all, and Thou hast shewn
Thy mercy new to me.
Praised be hou, o Lord of might,
Thy guardian care be prais'd,
That has protected me all night,
And now from sleep has rais'd.
Grant me Thy choicest blessings still
And guide me in Thy way;
Teach Thou me, Lord! Thy holy will;
And teach me to obey.
Deign Thou my life here to regard;
My soul on Thee does call;
In danger deign to be my ward,
My helper when I fall.
Tune Thou my heard to godliness;
Let me love all mankind;
Let my heart still true happineſs.
In Godly actions find.
That I as Thy obedient child,
May virtue's path explore;
And not with stormy passions wild
My soul to vice restore.
That I may to all men be kind;
To help them ne'er be slow;
Let others wellfare warm my mind,
Their virtues make it glow.
That while I ftill enjoy life's space
May thankfully amend;
And that, at Thy decree; my race
With cheerfulneſs may end.
Theophilus. My dear Papa, will you give me a copy of
that hymn, that I may read it every morning, when I rise?
Father. With great pleasure.
Friend
-63
Friend R. And I will teach you the tune to it; and
then we may sing it before morning prayers.
Nicholas Oh! that's fine; it is an excellent hymn!
Father. As Robinson was still greatly afraid of wild
beasts and savages, he avoided thickets and woods as much
as possible during the course of his journey, and rather
chose those parts of the island, where he had a free pro-
spect on all sides.
But these were the most barren parts of
the island. He therefore had proceeded a great way, with-
out discovering any thing from which he could derive any
advantage.
At last he spied a plant, which he thought deserved a
closer examination. These plants stood together in small
tufts. Some had reddish, others whitish blossoms, and
others again bore ) small green apples, about the size of a
cherry.
He immediately pulled one off, and tasted it; but find.
ing it not at all eatable he with indignation pulled a whole
bush out of the ground, and was going to fling it away,
when, to his great astonishment, he discovered a great num.
ber of large and small round knobs at the root of it. He in,
stantly supposed these to be the proper fruit of the plant,
and began to examine them a little nearer.
He put one between his teeth m) and when he found it
hard and tasteless, was going to fling it away, but happi-
ly he recollected, that they might be good for something,
though he could not directly discover for what. So he put
some of them into his pouch, and proceeded on his journey.
John. I know, what they were,
Father. Well! and what then?
John, Why potatoes! they grow just so as you describ
ed them.
F 2
b) to bear. m) the tooth.
Dick.
64
Dick. And originally they come from America !
thence!
Theophilus. Yes, Sir Francis Drake brought n) them from
But Robinson was very stupid, not to know them.
Father. And pray! how come you to know them?
Theophilus. Why, because I have often seen and eaten
them; they are my favourite dish!
Father. But Robinson had never seen or eaten any before.
Theophilus. No?
Father. No; because in his time they were not at all
known in Germany. They came to us about forty years
ago, and it is above two hundred years,
son lived.
Theophilus. Nay then
since our Robin
Father. You see, dear Theophilus, how wrong it is to
censure other people so inconsiderately? We must first place
ourselves in their condition and reflect, whether we should
have acted better than they? Had you never seen any po.
tatoes, and never heard how they are dressed, you would
not know, what to do with them, any more than Robin.
son. Let this caution you for the future, never to think
yourself wiser than other people.
Theophilus. Kifs me, dear Papa, I shall never do so
any more.
Father. Robinson continued his journey, but slowly and
with precaution. The least rustling of the wind in the trees
and bushes frightened him, and made him lay hold of his
hatchet, to defend himself in case of need; but to his
great joy, he always found, he had been terrified without
reason.
At lenght he came to a brook, where he determined to ta-
ke his dinner. Here he sat down under a thick shady tree,
and had already begun to eat very heartily when all of
4) to bring.
a
65
a sudden, he was terribly frighten'd by a distant noise. He
looked fearfully round him, and discovered a whole drove
Nicholas. Of savages, to be sure!
Theophilus. Or Lions and tigers.
Father. Neither of them! but a whole drove of wild a-
nimals, bearing some resemblance to our deer, except that
their necks were much longer, which made them look some
what like camels, and their heads something like our
horses; as for the rest, they were not much larger than our
sheep.
If you desire to know, what animals they were, and how
they are called, I will tell you.
John. Oh yes, do!
:
Father. They are called Lamas (Llamas) and sometimes
Guanaokas. Their proper country is this part of America,
(pointing to the map) which belongs to Spain, and is called
Peru for which reason they are also called peruvian sheep,
tho', the wool excepted, they have nothing common with
the sheep. The Americans here, before they were discove-
red by the Europeans, had tamed this animal, and used it
like an aſs, to carry burthens. Of their wool they uſed to
make stuffs for cloathes.
John. The Peruvians then must not have been so savage
as the other inhabitants of America were.
:
Father. Not, by a great deal! They, as well as the
Mexicans (here in North America), lived in houses regularly
built, had magnificent temples, and were governed by kings
Theophilus. Is not that the country, from which the
Spaniards get so much gold and silver, and send it home in
their gallions, as you have told us?
Father. The very faine! When Robinson faw theſe
animals, which we also shall call Lamas, he felt a great
appetite for a piece of roast meat, which he had not tasted
F 3
66
a good while, and he greatly wished, to kill one of them,
To this end he placed himself behind a tree with his stone-
hatchet, in hopes, that one or other of them should come near
enough, so that he might strike it on the head and kill it.
He succeeded. These harmleſs animals, which, no doubt
had never been disturbed here, passed the tree, behind
which Robinson had hid o) himself, without any fear, and
one of them, a young one, coming within his reach, gave
it such a violent ſtroke on the neck with his hatchet, that
it immediately fell dead on the ground.
he
Charlotte. Oh fie! how could he do so? The poor
little sheep!
Mother. And why should be not?
Charlotte. Why, the little animal had done him no harm
and so he ought not to have killed it!
Mother. But he wanted the flesh of this animal for his
sustenance, and don't you know, that God has allowed
us to make use of animals, to whatever purpose we need
them?
Father. To kill or torment a poor innocent animal without
nesessity, would be cruelty; and no good man will ever do so.
But we are allowed to use them, to what they are good for,
and to eat their flesh. Have you forgot, what I explained to
you the other day, that it is even good for animals, that we
use them so?
John. Oh, yes! And if we did not make use of animals,
and
we should not take the trouble, to provide for them,
then they would not be near so well off, as they are now,
and many of them would be starved in winter.
Dick. And they would suffer a great deal more, if we
'did not kill them, but let them die of sicknefs and old age;
because they are not able to help each other, as men can、
Fa.
⚫) to hide.
67
Father. And then we must not think, that our method
of killing animals is so painful to them, as it seems to us.
They never know before hand, that they are going to be
killed, and so are very easy and contented till their last
moment. And the sensation of pain, while they are killing
is no sooner felt p), but it is over.
Robinson had scarce knocked down the Lama, when he
began to consider, how he should be able to drefs its flesh?
Charlotte. Why, could he not boil or roast it?
Father. That he would most willingly have done; but
unluckily for him, he wanted all conveniences for this pure
pose. He had neither pot nor spit, and what was still
Worse
he even had no fire.
Charlotte. No fire! why could he not make some?
Father. To be sure, he might, if he had had a ſteel
and tinder, - a flint and matches! But, alas! he had no-
thing of all this!
John. I know, what I should have done!
Father. And what?
?
John. I should have rubbed two pieces of dry wood one
against the other, till they had taken fire at last, as we
read one day in the history of travels, that the savages did.
Father. Our Robinson recollected the same method; he
therefore took his dead Lama on his shoulders, and made
the best of his way back to his habitation.
On his return he made an other discovery, no lefs agree-
able to him; for he met 9) with six or eight lemon trees
under which he found some ripe lemons: these he care-
fully gathered, marked the place, and then,
with great
satisfaction, hastened back to his dwelling.
Being arrived there, his first busineſs was, to skin the
young lama. This he did by means of a sharp stone, which
F 4
he
p) to feel. 4) to meet.
68
he used instead of a knife. He spread the skin in the sun
-.
as well as he could in order to dry it, because he foresaw
r), it would one time or other, be very useful to him,
John. And pray, what could he do with it?
Father. He might use it several ways. In the first place,
his shoes and stockings began to wear out; and he thought
in case of need, he might make himself soles or sandales.
of that skin, and tie them round his feet; that he might
not be quite barefoot. Besides he was greatly afraid of the
winter, and therefore very glad, to be provived with furs,
and by these means secured from perishing with cold.
It is true, his fear was needlefs, because there never is any
winter in this country.
Theophilus. Never any winter?
Father. No! There is never any winter in all those hot
climates here between the tropics, as I lately explained to
you. But instead of that, there are long continuing rains,
during two or three months. But Robinson knew nothing
of all this, because he had not been properly instructed in
his youth.
John. But, Papa! I think, we once read, that the Pico
of Teneriffa, and the Cordilleras in Peru, are always cover-
ed with snow? Thero consequently it must be always win.
and yet they are all situated between the tropics.
ter,
Father. You are right, my dear John; but very high
mountainous countries are exceptions: for the tops of such
high mountains are always covered with snow. Do you re-
member, what I told you of some countries in the East-In-
dies, when we lately took a voyage thither on the map?
John Oh yes! That in some parts there summer and
winter are only a few miles asunder! As on the isle of Cey
lon, in the Indian Ocean, and where
pray, where is it?
r) to forefee.
Fa.
69
on the
Father. On the foremost peninsula. When it is winter
on this side of the Gauts on the coast of Malabar, it is
summer on the other side of these mountains,
coast of Coromandel; and so the reserve. The same is said
to be observed in the island of Zeram, one of the Moluc
cas, were one needs only go three miles, to come from
the cold of winter into the heat of summer, and again from
a hot into a cold country.
But we are again at a great distance from our Robin.
son. Only see how our mind can in a trice transport it.
self into countries and places many thousand miles distant
from one another! From America we flew s) to Asia and
ΠΟΥ mind me! hush, and lo!
and lo! we are back again in
America, in our friend Robinson's island. Is not that
wonderful?
Having skinned his Lamas and taken out the entrails, he
cut off a hind quarter to roast it, and then his next care
was to make a spit. For this purpose he took a very young
slender tree, stript t) it of the bark, and sharpened it at
one end. Then he looked for a couple of forky branches,
to lay his spit on. These he also sharpened, and knocked
them into the ground, opposite to each other, spitted his
meat, placed the spit on the forks, and was not a little
rejoiced, to see how well he could turn it.
he cut
Now the most necessary of all was still wanting, I
mean fire. In order to produce it by friction,
two pieces of wood from a withered tree, and fell t)
a working directly. He rubbed till the sweat rolled down
in great drops from his face, but all to no purpose,
for just when the wood was so hot that it smoked, he
found himself so tired, that he was obliged, to stop a
little, in order to recruit himself, in which time the
s) to fly.) to strip. #) to fall.
wood
70
wood always grew cold again; and all his labour proved.
fruitlefs.
the
He now again felt v) in the most sensible manner,
helpleſs condition of a solitary life, and the many advanta
ges, afforded to us by the society of men. Had he but one
person to continue rubbing, when he was fatigued, he
would certainly have made the wood burn. But being quite
alone, it was impossible for him.
John. And yet I think, that the savages make fire by
rubbing the wood in the manner you say.
Father, So they do. But those savages are generally
stronger, than we Europeans, we are too delicately brought
w) up; and then they know much better, how to set a-
bout such things. They take two pieces of different wood,
one hard and the other soft. The former they rub with great
quickneſs against the latter, which takes fire. Or else they
make a hole in one, and sticking the other into it, turn
it so very quickly in their hands, till it takes fire at last.
Robinson ignorant of this method, could not succeed.
Quite dejected at last, he flung x) the two pieces of
wood down to the ground, and laid himself on his couch.
There he lay in a very melancholy mood; his head leaned
on his hand, and with a deep sigh he often cast a look
on the fine piece of meat, which, for want of fire, he
could not eat. But when he reflected on the approaching
winter, and what then would become of him, if he had no
fire, he fell into such an agony of grief, that he jum
ped up from his couch and walked about, to recover him-
self a little.
As his blood was now in great agitation, he grew very
dry and went to the fpring to fetch a draught of fresh wa.
ter in his cocoa-shell. This water he mixed with some le-
v) to feel, w) to bring. ) to fling.
mon-
71
D
mon juice, which made it a fine cooling drink, and was
very acceptable to him in this situation.
But still his mouth watered after a piece of roast meat,
of which he would gladly have eaten a slice. At last he re
collected to have once heard, that the Tartars, human cre.
atures as well as himself, put the meal they intend to eat,
under their saddles, and then ride on it till it is tender.
This, argued he, might possibly be done in another man.
ner, and he resolved to set about instantly. To this end he
went y) and fetched two pretty smooth broad flat stones
of the same kind his hatchet was of; between these he laid
some meat, without bones, and began to strike vigourous-
ly on the upper stone with his mallet. He had scarce done
80, for ten minutes, when the stone began to grow hot.
He now redoubled his blows, and in leſs than half an hour
the meat was become so tender, by the heat of the stones,
caused by his incessant beating upon it, that it was become
perfectly eatable.
It is true, it was not so palatable, as if it had been pro
perly roasted. But for Robinson, who in so long a time
had tasted no meat at all, it was a great delicacy.
Oh
ye nice countrymen of mine!" cried he,,, who so often loath
the best victuals, because they do not suit your dainty pa-
lates:
were you but for eight days in my place, you would
be very well pleased afterwards with whatever food God Al.
mighty should send you! You would take care, never to
be again ungrateful to the all nourishing bounty of provi
dence !"
In order to highten the savour of this dish, he sqeezed
a little lemon juice upon it, and then made such a meal,
as he had not done a long while. Neither did he forget to
addrefs his very fervent thanks to the giver of all good things.
y) to go.
When
72
When his dinner was ended, he began to consider what
was now the most indispensable occupation for him to do?
The fear of the winter, which this day had grown so strong
within him, made him resolve, to spend some days in kil
ling a great many lamas, and make a store of their skins.
As they seemed to be so very tame, he hoped, to obtain
his wish without much trouble.
Full of these hopes he went to rest, and a soft refresh-
ing sleep richly rewarded him for all the fatigues of
that day.
SIXTH
SIXTH EVENING.
(The father continues.)
Our Robinson slept a) that time, till the day was far
advanced. When he awoke b), he was surprized to find
it was already fo late, and hastily jumped up in order
to set out in search of lamas. But heaven had ordained it
otherwise.
For just when he had put his head out of his hole, he
was forced to draw it quickly back again.
Charlotte. And why so?
1
Father. The rain poured down with such violence, that
it was not possible for him to stir out: he therefore resolved
to stay, till the shower was over.
But the rain did not abate, on the contrary, it still
encreased with violence. At times there came such flashes
of lightning, that his dark cavern seemed to be all in fire;
and then such violent claps of thunder followed, as he had
never heard before. The earth trembled with the most ter
rible rumbling, and the mountain sent c) forth such many.
fold echoes, that the frightful noise seemed to have no end.
As Robinson had received a bad education
possessed with a foolish fear of lightning.
Theophilus. Of thunder and lightning!
G
a) to sleep. b) to awake. c) to send.
ર
he was pret
Fa
74
Father. Yes, they frightened him so much, that he did
not know, what to do with himself for fear.
Theophilus. That is something so majestic! why then
was he afraid of it?
Father. Nay, that I can't tell; probably, because so-
metimes houses are set on fire, and now and then a person
is also killed by it.
John. Yes, but that happens so very seldom. I have now
lived a good while, and yet I don't remember, that ever
a man was killed by lightning.
,
Theophilus. And if there were why one dies so
quickly, and then we go to God Almighty, and what does
it signify then?
Dick. Ob, what a fine sight is it, to see the lightning!
it cools the air finely, and it is so awful a spectacle, when
the lightning darts from the black clouds!
Charlotte. Oh! I like to see it! Won't you take us out
again, dear Papa, when it lightens, that we may see it?
Father. Oh yes, I will! Robinson, you know, had
been poorly instructed in his youth, and therefore he was
ignorant how beneficial thunder is; how it purifies the air.
how it makes every thing grow well in the fiels and garden;
how men and animals, trees and plants, are so agreeably
refreshed by it!
He sat d) now in a corner of his cavern, frightened to
death with his hands folded, in the mean while the rain
poured down in great abondance, flashes of lightning shot
e) thro' the air, and claps of thunder succeeded each other
with redoubled violence. It was almost noon, and yet the
violence of the tempest had not in the least abated.
He did not feel any hunger, for the terror, he was in,
did not suffer him to think of it. But his soul was the
d) to sit. e) to_shoot,
more
75
more tormented with frightful ideas:
The time is come,"
he thought,, that God will punish me for all my past
transgressions! He has withdrawn his paternal hand from
me; I must now perish, and shall never see my poor pa-
rents again."
Friend R. Now, I must own, I am not at all pleased
with our friend Robinson!
Nicholas. And why not, pray?
Friend R. Why? has not God. Almighty done already
80 much for him, that by his own experience he might
very well know, that God does not forsake any body that
confides in him, and endeavours to mend? Had he not
already saved him from the most imminent dangers? Had
he not already helped him so far, that he had no need to
fear any longer to die with hunger; and yet he was de
jected! fie! that is impardonable ! -
}
"
but let us have:
Mother. I am of your opinion dear R.
compassion on the poor fellow! It was but lately he bad
begun f) to reflect, and consequently it was impossible for
him, to be so perfect as one, who from his earliest youth
has been endeavouring to amend,
Father. You are right, my dear! Give me your hand!
and take this kifs for your compassion on my poor Robinson,
who, some time since is become very dear to me, because
I perceive him to be in a good way.
Whilst he was thus sitting in fear and apprehension, the
tempest seemed at last to abate. In proportion as the vio-
lence of the thunder and rain seemed to lessen, hope by
degrees revived in his soul. Now he thought he might at
last venture out, and was just going to lay hold of his
pouch and his hatchet, when all of a sudden
you think? he fell senselefs on the ground.
Ga
what do
John.
f) to begin
76
John. Well! and what ailed him then?
Father. Rrrrrr bounce! it went over his head;
the earth trembled and Robinson fell down as dead. The
lightning had struck g) into a tree, which stood on the top
of his cave, and rent h) it to pieces, with so dreadful a
noise, that poor Robinson lost i) sight and hearing, and
thought he was himself struck dead.
He remained a long while on the ground without knowing
any thing of himself, At last, perceiving that he was still
alive, he rose up, and the first thing he discovered at
the entrance of his cave, was a piece of the tree, that had
been rent and flung k) down by the lightning. This was a
new misfortune to him! What could he now fasten his
ladder to, if the whole tree, as he thought, was struck
'down?
The rain and thunder being now entirely over, he at last
ventured out, and what do you think he saw?
Something which instantly filled his heart with thanks and
love to his bountiful Creator, and with the greatest sense
of shame at his former despondency! He saw the trunk of
the tree, into which the lightning had struck, all in a
blaze. He now found himself in possession of what he wan
ted most, and divine providence had most visibly provided
for him at that very time, when in his great anxiety he
thought himself forsaken!
▸
Mother. How wonderful! What Robinson looked upon
as his greatest misfortune, now proved to be his greatest
happiness. But divine providence has always such wise
and beneficial designs, when it suffers any evil to happen
in the world.
Father. Providence does the same with us, as I did to
day with a wood-louse,
to strike. h) to rend. ) lose. k) to fling.
Mo-
77
Mother How so?
Father. I was cleaving wood; and just when I was about
to strike with my hatchet, I perceived a wood-louse sit-
ting in a split, into which I was going to strike. Why kill
the poor thing without need, thought I, and blew ) it
three paces from me, as if it had been whirl'd away by a
storm. Now I reflected, how the little short sighted fool
might reason on this accident. ,, What an unfriendly tyrant
39
"
"
that huge two legged creature must be!" it might think,
to make such a violent hurricane, which flings me head
,, over heels out of my house! and what does it avail him?
I really believe, he did it only, to see me, poor worm,
whirl'd thro' the air!" Thus it might have reason'd, if
animals could reason properly; it little thought, I suppose,
that I did so merely out of kindneſs; and yet I really did.
Let us, my dear children, always think of this wood
louse, whenever we are tempted to judge so unreasonably
and ungratefully of the dispositions of Providence of which
we know as little, as the wood-louse did of my intention.
With inexpressible sentiments of joy and gratitude, Ro
binson lifted up his hands to heaven, and thanked the
bountiful, the all directing Father of mankind, who in the
most dreadful accidents has always the most wise and kind.
est intentions: Oh!" cried he with a loud voice and tears
of joy in his eyes:,, what is man! that short sighted worm
who dares to murmur at what God, the wise ruler of the
world is doing, and what he can not comprehend!"
"
Now he had got fire without the least trouble, and it was
easy for him to keep this fire, and he needed not to be so
concern'd about his future sustenance in this desolated is-
land. That day he did not go a hunting, as his inten-
tion first was, because he would immediately take advan-
G 3
1) to blow.
tage
3078
tage of the fire, and roast his meat, which had been spit.
ted since the day before.
•
As the lower part of the burning trunk, to which his
ladder was fastened, was yet unhurt, he might safely
mount. He did so, took a fire brand, got down with it
to the place, which he had inclosed before his habitation
and made an excellent fire, to roast his meat. After which
he got up again to the burning tree, and put out the fire.
All this being done, he performed the business of a scul
lion, in keeping up the fire and turning his spit with great
diligence. His fire was an object of uncommon joy to him,
and greatly affected him. He considered it as a very valua❤
ble gift of God, which he had sent him down from the
clouds, and whilst he was reflecting on the great advanta
ges, it might afford him, he often lifted up his eyes with
gratitude to heaven. And afterwards, whenever he saw any
fire, or only thought of it, his second thought always was a
This God Almighty has granted me also.
Friend B. No wonder, that some people thought, that
fire, by which all that lives on earth is preserved, was
God himself!
Jonh. Did some people believe so?
Friend B. Yes, John! God be praised that we are
better informed, and know, that fire is not God, but
only a gift of him, created for our sake, the same as wa
ter, earth and air!
Father. Robinson had, at his last night's supper missed
the salt in the taste of his meat, and hoped for the future,
to find some in his island. For this time. he ran to the sea-
shore and fetch'd a cocoa-shell full of sea-water. With
this he basted his meat several times, and by that means
seasoned it in some measure.
At last it seemed sufficiently done, and he, who like
Robinson has not tasted a mouthful of welldressed meat in
four
79
'
four weeks, and given up all hopes of ever tasting any
again, may describe the joy he felt, when he cut the first
piece of meat and put the first morsel into his mouth.
Now the great question was, how to prevent the fire
from going out.
Theophilus. Oh, that he might very easily, by putting
always fresh wood to it.
Father. Very well; but if a shower of rain should hap-
pen to fall in the night time, when he was asleep, what
then?
→
Charlotte. I'll tell you what, Papa! I should have ma-
'de a fire in my cavern, where the rain could not come.
Father. Very well imagined! Bnt unluckily for him, his
cavern was so very small, that it was only large enough for
him to lie in, and as it had no chimney, he could not
have staid in it for smoak.
Charlotte. Why, then I can't help him!
other to
John. There must always be something or
puzzle him. One is often apt to think him completely hap
py: but, your humble servant! some new obstacle always
starts in view!
Father. By this we see, how infinitely difficult it is for
any single man, to provide himself with all he wants, and
how great the advantages are, which social life affords
Oh, my children! we should be but poor wretched crea-
tures, if every one of us were forced, to live by himself,
and if no body had the comfort of his fellow creatures as
sistance! A thousand hands are not sufficient to prepare,
what a single man wants every day!
John. Oh, Papa!
Father, Don't you think so, my dear John? Well! let
us see what you have eat, drunk and wanted to day.
In the first place you have slept till sun rise in a good
commodious bed, have not you?
G4
'John.
80
John. On a matrafs.
Father. Right!
These matrasses are filled with horse-
hair. These have been cut by two human hands, weighed
and sold m) by two others; they have been packed up
and sent away by two more; two received and unpacked
them; two again have sold them to the saddler or uphols-
terer. These hair, which were entangled, were pickt
out by the hands of the upholsterer, who put them into a
matrals. The covering of the matraſs is made of striped li
and whence does that come?
nen,
John. It has been made by the linen weaver.
Father. And what does he want, to make it?
John. Why, a loom, and yarn, and a reel and warping
bars, and paste, and
Father. Very well! How many hands were required, to
make a weaver's loom? We'll only suppose a few
twenty! The paste is made of flour. How many hands are
there not required, before we can get flour! How many
hundred hands must not be employed, to make all what is
necessary for a mill, in which the corn is ground! But
weavers chiefly want yarn, and where do they get that?
John. That is spun n) by women.
Father. Out of what?
John. Out of flax.
Father. And do you know, thro' how many hands the
flax must pals, before it can be spun?
John. Oh yes, that we have lately reckoned over! In
the first place the husbandman must sift the linseed, to clean
it from the seeds of weeds; then the land must dunged and
ploughed a couple of times, before the seed is sowed and
harrowed in. When the young flax grows up, a great num
ber of women and girls come to weed it. Being at its full
growth,
1
m) to sel, n) to spin,
81
growth, it is pulled out by the roots, and drawn o) through
the ripple comb, to take the seeds off.
..
Nicholas. Yes! and then it is tied up in small bundles,
and laid in water!
Dick. And when it is soaked enough, it is taken out
again.
—
Theophilus. Then they spread it in the sun, to dry it
Frederic. And then it is broke p) on the brake.
Charlotte. I beg your pardon, Sir; first it is dried in the
oyen! Is not it, Papa?
Frederic. Yes! And then it is broke, and then
Charlotte. Then it is hackled on the hackle, which is
full of sharp wires, to take out the tow.
see
Dick. And then they do something else with it
let me
I know it. Oh, I'll tell you directly! — Then
they scutch it, on the scutching stocks.
Father. Now take this all together and consider, how
much is to be done, before we can get linen; consider at
the same time, how much work all the instruments require,
which the husbandman, the flax cleaner and the spinner
stand in need of: and you will allow, that I do not say
too many, when I assure you, that more than a thousand
hands have been employed, in making only the matrals,
on which you sleep so softly.
Theophilus. Astonishing! a thousand hands!
Father. Now consider, how many other things you daily
want, and then tell me, if it is to be wondered at, that
Robinson was for ever in want of something or other, as no
other hands, excepting his own, were working for him?
And as he had not one of all those tools, with which things
are so easily made among us?
A
Now he was at a lofs, how to prevent his dear fire from
G 5
o) to draw. p) to break.
going
82
going out. He rubbed his forehead, as if he wanted to
rub some lucky thought out of it; then he walked with
his arms acroſs and hasty strides up and down in his in-
closure, and for a long time he did not know,
what to
resolve upon. At last casting his eyes on the steep wall of
the hill, be directly knew, what he had to do.
Dick. How so?
Father. About a yard above the ground, there was a
very large and thick stone, jutting out from this wall,
Frederic How large might it be?
Father. I could never get an exact description of it; but
I suppose, it was near my length, and about a full yard
in breadth and thickneſs.
Though it had rained very hard,
this large stone was not in the least
yet the ground under
wet, but as dry, 20
if it had been covered with a roof. Robinson directly con-
ceived, that this spot might serve as good and secure fire-
place. But his observations did not stop here. He percei
ved that it would be very easy for him, to make a proper
kitchen, fire.hearth and chimney in this place, and he res
solved, to set about it directly.
With his spade he dug 7) a hole about a yard deep just
under this large stone. Then he resolved, to make a wall
on each side up to this large stone.
Theophilus. But how could he make a wall, pray?
Father. As he now observed every thing, he met r)
and saw s), with the greatest exactneſs, and always asked
himself: what may that be good for? he had not left ),
a particular sort of clay unnoticed, which he had seen in
one part of his island; on the contrary he directly conceived
the idea, that it might serve him to make bricks to build
a wall,
9) to dig. r) to meet. s) to see. ) to leave.
This
83
This he now recollected again, and having almost dug
the hole for his kitchen, he took his spade and stone-
knife, and went to the place, where this clay was to be
found u), in order to set about the work directly.
As it had rained very much, the clay was so soft, that
he could get it out without any great trouble; he then for
med it into square- bricks and smoothed them with his kni-
fe. Having in a short time got a considerable number of
them ready, he placed them in rows, where the sun could
shine on them the whole day. He resolved to continue this
work the next day and now went home again, to eat the
remainder of his roast meat, for his diligent labour had
procured him a very good appetite. Now that he might on
such a joyful day make a prince's feast, he indulged him、
self so far, as to take one of the few remaining cocoa-nuts
along with him.
•
This meal was most excellent. -- Ah! said Robinson,
sighing with joy and with an affected heart Ah! how
happy should I be now, if I had but a single friend, only
one of my own species, nay the most miserable beggar
for my companion, whom I might tell, that I loved him,
and who could tell me again, that he loved me! Were Ibut so
happy, to have some tame animal
2
be kind to, and gain its affection!
to be so debarred from all living
of grief trickled down his cheeks.
a dog or a cat - to
But so quite alone
creatures!
Here a tear
He now remembered the time, which he used to spend
in disputes and quarrels with his brothers and other compa⚫
nions, and reflected on it with the bitterst remorse. Ah!
said he to himself, how little did I then know the great
value of a friend, and how indispensably necessary the af
fec
#) to find.
84
fection of other men is to our happineſs! Oh that I could
retrieve my younger days! How friendly, how kind, how
indulgent would I be to my brothers and other children!
How willingly would I suffer trivial offences, and force all
mankind, by my goodneſs and friendly conduct, to love
Good God! Why did I not know the high value of
that happineſs, which friendship affords, untill it was lost
2) for me lost for ever!
me!
he
Then casting accidentally his eyes towards his cavern,
perceived a spider, that had extended her web in a corner.
The thought of sleeping with some living creature under one
roof, seem'd so comfortable, that is was quite indifferent
to him now,
what kind of animal it was. He resolved to
catch flies every day, for his spider, to make this creatu-
re sensible, it was in a safe and friendly place, and if
possible to tame it.
As it was still broad day, and the air, which had been
cooled by the thunder, so very refreshing, he resolved
not to go to bed yet; and to spend his time with some
thing useful, he took his spade, and went on to clear his
kitchen from the mould. Whilst he was digging, he hit
upon something so yery hard in the ground, that it almost
broke his spade.
He thought w) it was a stone. But how great was his
astonishment, when, on taking out the lump, he discover
ed, that it was -
solid gold.
Theophilus. Good
son is!
gracious how lucky that Robins
Father, Very lucky, indeed! The lump of gold was so
large, that it might have produced a hundred thousand
dollars if coined. Now he was at once become a very rich
man; and how many things could he not buy now? He
could
v) to lose. w) to think.
J
85
could get a palace built a ), keep his own coach, servants
running foot-men, apes, monkies: nay,
apes, monkies: nay, he could even
Theophilus. Aye! But pray, where could he get all these things
in his island, there being nobody, who had any thing to sell?
Father. Why! Aye, I did not think of that! But
our Robinson thought of it directly. Instead of rejoicing
at the treasure he had found, he kicked it away with con.
tempt, saying: Lie there, miserable lump, which men so
much dote on, and covet. Of what use art thou to me?
Had I found a good piece of iron instead of thee, I might
have made myself a knife or hatchet of it! How willingly,
would I now give this gold for a handful of iron-nails,
any other useful tool!" and so he left b) the precious trea-
sure with contempt, and whenever he afterwards past c】
by, he scarce deigned to cast a look upon it.
or
Charlotte. I'll tell you what, Papa; Robinson did just
as the cock.
Fatner. What cock?
Charlotte. Why! have you forgot the fable you once told
us? There was once a cock
Father. Well?
Charlotte. That was scratching on a dunghill, and found
what do you call it?
Father. A diamond.
Charlotte. Oh, aye! it was a diamond, and he said: Of
what use art thou to me, thou glittering thing? had I found
a barley - corn, instead of thee, I should have been better
pleased. And so he left the diamond and troubled himself
no more about it.
Father. Very right; Robinson did just so with his lump
of gold.
Now, night was coming on, the sun had long since sunk
d) into the sea -
H
a) to build. b) to leave. ´c) to paſs. d) to sink,
The
86
Theophilus. Into the sea?
Father. So it appears to those, who live in an island,
.or on the seashore towards the west. There it seems to
them, as if the sun was sinking down into the sea, when
he sets,
and for, that reason it is sometines customary to
say so, as if he really did.
Now the friendly moon rose on the opposite side of the
sky, and darted her friendly beams into Robinson's cave,
so agreeably, that at first he could not sleep, for this de
lightful spectacle,
Charlotte. Oh, look, dear Papa, yonder is our moon
coming too!
John. Oh, aye, how glorious she looks!
Frederic. Why does Papa pull off his cap?
John. (Whispering.) Frederic, I believe he is praying
to God.
Frederic. (Whispering to John.) And why, pray?
John. (Whispering.) I believe he is returning thanks to
God, for having created that glorious moon.
Father. (After a pause.) Now, my children, Robinson
is asleep, while his fire is slowly burning on, kept e) up
by some pieces of wood; what do you intend to do in the
mean time?
Nicholas. Oh! shall we not go to our arbour, before we
go to bed?
Theophilus. Oh yes, to the arbour!
Father, Well, come along, my children, we will sing
a hymn of praise to our Creator, by the light of his glo-
n, for the joys of the past day.
rious moon,
And thus they all went joyfully to the arbour.
c) to keep.
SE-
SEVENTH EVENIN G.
The following evening John, Nicholas and Theophilus
pulled the father out of the door of the house by his arms
and the skirts of his coat; and as they cried for help, the
rest came also running up,
and so they dragged him out of
the house, without any further ceremony.
Father. Well, where are you going to drag me to, with
such violence?
John. To the graſs-plot under the apple tree!
Father. What do you want with me there?
Nicholas. Oh, our Robinson! pray! pray!·
Theophilus, Oh aye, Robinson! and you shall be my
best, my dearest Papa!
Father. Yes, yes, that's well enough; but I fear, my
Robinson will not delight you any more!
John. Not delight us? Who can say so? pray!
Father. No body; but if I am not mistaken, I saw so-
me of you yawning last night, and that is generally a sign,
that people don't find themselves well entertained.
•
Theophilus. Oh no, certainly not! that was only be
cause we had been digging so much in our garden. No won.
der one grows a little sleepy, after having dug f) the whole
afternoon..
H. a
Ni-
f) to dig.
88
Nicholas. To day we have only been weeding and wate
ring the lettuce plants, and we are not in the least tired.
Charlotte. No, not in the least fatigued. Look how I
can jump.
Father. If you'll have it so, I will continue; but you
must tell me, when you begin to grow tired of my history.
John. Oh yes! well?
Father. As the heat in Robinson's island was so very in-
tolerable in the day time, he was forced to do the work,
he intended, in the morning and evening. He therefore
got up before sunrise, put fresh wood to his fire and
breakfasted on half the cocoa-nut, which he had left the
day before. He was now going to spit another piece of his
lama, but he found, that the meat was already tainted;
on account of the great heat. He was therefore compelled
to paſs that day without meat.
When he was ready to set out for the place, where he
had made his bricks, and putting his hunter's bag over his
head, he found those patatoes in it, which he had acci.
dentally picked up two days before on his return home. The
thought struck him to put them in some hot ashes near the
fire, and see how they would be, when roasted? After
which he set out.
He so vigorously prosecuted his work that, before noon,
he had made as many clay bricks as he thought sufficient to
make the wall round his kitchen; then he went to the sea.
shore, to look for some oysters. But instead of oysters
of which he found but very few, he discovered to his great
joy another kind of food, which was much better.
John. And what was that, pray?
Father. It was an animal, which he had indeed never
tasted himself; but he had often heard, that the flesh of
it was very palatable and nourishing.
John. Well, and what was it then?
Fa.
82
Father. A turtle, and so very large, that the like of it is sel
dom seen in this country. It might weigh near hundred pounds.
Theophilus. Oh, that must have been a prodigious lar
ge turtle Are there really any so large?
John. Oh, there are soine much larger yet. Don't you
remember, what Papa once read to us in our history of
voyages? Those, that were caught g) by the travellers in
the south-sea? Why, those were of three-hundred weight.
Theophilus. Three-hundred weight! Why that is asto-
nishing
and
Father. Robinson took his turtle on his shoulder,
made a shift, to get home with it as well as he could. Here
he struck h) with his hatchet on the lower shell, till it
broke ). Then he took the turtle, and killed it, and cut
off a large piece to roast. This he spitted, and being very
hungry by working so much, he waited with impatience,
till it was done.
Whilst he was turning the spit, he considered, what he
should do with the rest of the turtle, to preserve it from
putrefaction? To pickle it, he wanted a tub and salt.
Charlotte. Pray, what do you call, to pickle?
Father. It is, to lay meat, which one wishes to pre
serve, into a tub, and sprinkle it over with salt; didn't
you see, how Mama pickled her pork. this winter?
Charlotte Oh, yes!
John. This art was invented by William Bökel, to salt
herrings,
Oacher. Robinson then saw with great concern, that his
whole turtle, which might have served him a fortnight and
longer, would be quite spoiled by to morrow; and yet he
knew no means how to salt it But a new thought occurred
to him. The upper shell of the turtle was hollow like a
H 3
tray.
g) to catch. ) to strike. i) to break.
yo
tray. This he thought he might use instead of a tub. But,
where could he now get salt?
"
What a blockhead am I?" said he to himself, slap-
ping his forehead. Can not I pour sea-water upon it,
which will be near as good, as if I salted the meat? Oh
,,excellent! excellent!" cried he for joy, and turned his
spit with more cheerfulneſs than before.
Now his meat was done. Alas!" cried Robinson, af-
ter having tasted a nice piece of it with great delight,„, had
1 but a bit of bread with it! How stupid was I in my
youth, not to know, what a great value a piece of dry
bread is! Then I would never eat it without butter and
sometimes cheese besides! Oh, what a fool I was! Had
I but a piece of brown bread now, such as they used to
bake for our garden. dog, how happy should I think my-
self!"
25
During these exclamations he recollected the potatoes,
which he had that morning put into the ashes.
I'll see,"
said he,,, how they are ;" and so he went to fetch one of them.
But what new cause of joy! The hard potatoe was now
so tender, that, when he broke it, there arose k) such
an agreeable smell from it, that he did not hesitate a mo-
ment, to put a piece of it into his mouth. And the taste
of it was so pleasant, so pleasant as
who will help me
now to make a comparison?
Friend B. So pleasant, as the taste of a potatoe!
Father. That is expressing the matter at once! SO
the taste of this roasted potatoe, was so pleasant, as the
taste of a potatoe, and Robinson immediately perceived to
his great satisfaction, that this root might serve him instead
of bread.
He therefore made a most excellent meal, After which he
laid
k) to arise.
91
"
"
laid himself down for a while on his couch, on account of
the scorching heat of the sun; and during the time he
could not work, he gave himself up to all sorts of reflections.
What am I to do next?" thought he The bricks
must first be hardened in the sun, before I can begin my
wall. It will therefore be best for me, to go a hunting
in the mean time, and kill a couple of lamas.
But
what shall I do with so much meat? What,
trived my kitchen so,
"
"
if I con-
as to be able to smoke meat in it?
excellent!" cried he, jumping up from his couch and
stepping to the place, where he intended to make his
kitchen, to consider how to execute this design?
}
He soon found, that it would do very well. He only
needed to make a couple of holes, in the two side-walls,
put a stick through and hang his meat upon them to smoke it.
His head was almost giddy with joy at this lucky thought.
What would he not have given, if his bricks had already
been hard enough, to set directly about this important work?
But what could he do? He was obliged to wait, till the
şun had hardened his bricks.
But, what should he do this afternoon? While he
was reflecting on this, a new thought occurred to him
which in excellence was greatly superior to all those, he
had hitherto conceived. He was quite astonished at his stu*
pidity, not to have thought of it before.
John. And, what was it?
Father. Nothing leſs, than to tame some animals, for
his company and entertainment!
Theophilus, Ab, some Lamas, to be sure!
Father. Very right! Hitherto he had not yet seen any
other animals. As these lamas seemed to be very tame, he
hoped to be able, to catch some of them alive.
Theophilus. Oh, that will be charming! I should like
to be with him to catch one for myself too,
Oa.
92
Father. But in what manner would you catch them, dear
Theophilus? I suppose,
they were not so tame, as to be
taken with your hands.
Theophilus But, how would Robinson set about it then?
Father. That was the question now, and he resolved.
in his mind many different schemes for that purpose. But
if a man earnestly desires to do a thing which is not im
possible in itself, and he continues reflecting on it, very
few will be found too difficult for his understanding and as-
siduity. So great and manifold are the faculties, with which
our bountiful Creator has endowed us!
Mind this, my children! and you will never need to
despair of success in any difficult undertaking, if you have
but resolution enough, not to desist, till you have carried
your point. Persevering industry, continued reflections, and
indefatigable courage have often brought things to bear,
which before were deemed impossible. You must therefore
never be deterred by any difficulty, you meet with in any
thing; but rather reflect, that the greater your efforts are
to accomplish any thing, the greater will be your joy, when
finished.
Our Robinson too succeeded in a short time, in finding
the means, how to catch some lamas alive.
John. Well!
Father. He resolved to contrive a rope in such a man.
ner, 2.8 to make a snare of it; then to hide himself be.
hind a tree, and to fling it about the neck of the first la
ma, that happened to come within his reach.
With this view he twisted a pretty strong rope, and in a
few hours his gin was ready. He made some trials with it
whether it would draw together, and it succeeded
to see,
to his wishes.
As the place, where the lamas used to frequent, was
at some distance, and as he did not know, whether they
would
93
would come in the evening, because of late he had found
them there at noon: he put off the execution of this plan
for the next day, and in the mean time made the necessary
preparations for his journey.
First of all he ran to the place, where he had found the
potatoes, and brought a whole pouchful home. Some of
them he put into the embers to roast, and the rest in a
corner of his cavern, to keep them for the next day. Then
he cut off a pretty good piece of his turtle for his supper
and for the day following, and poured on the rest some
sea-water, which he bad brought with him for that pure
pose.
ر
Upon this he dug a hole in the ground, to serve as a
cellar. Here he placed his turtle shell, with the meat ho
had salted, together with the piece, he had cut off, and
cover'd the whole with boughs.
་
The rest of the afternoon he devoted to cheer his mind
by a pleasant walk along the sea shore; whence the res
freshing east wind blew, and agreeably cooled the sultry
air. He indulged himself with the sight of the immense
ocean, which then was but little ruffled and moved in small
waves. He cast a look of affection to that side, where his
beloved country was situated, and a tear started from his
eyes at the thought of his dear parents.
rents?"
99
What may they be doing now, my poor grieved pa
cried he wringing his hands and with tears in his
eyes. If they have survived the bitter sorrow, I caused
them, alas! how mournfully will they pafs each day! They
will be sighing and wailing, because they have no child
left; because their last and most beloved son proved a trai-
tor, and forsook 1) them for ever! Oh my dearest, best
of fathers, oh my dearly beloved mother, oh, pardon your
H 5
poor
7) to forsake,
94
J
wretched son, who could cause you such grieft And thou,
my heavenly
and no
my only father! my only compa
nion, my only helper and protector!" After an humble
prostration he continued: Oh, my Creator! pour down
thy most precious blessings, and all the joys, thou hadst
destined for me,
and which I have rendered myself un-
worthy of; oh pour them all down on my beloved and
much offended parents to make them some amends for
the grief, they suffer on my account! Alas, I am ready
and willing to undergo, whatever thy wisdom and love shall
think fit to impose on me for my amendment, if my poor
parents are but happy!
He remained for sometime in this posture, looking to
wards heaven in silent anguish, and his eyes full of tears.
At length he rose, and with his stone-knife cut the names
of his dear parents on the next tree; above which he carved
the following words: God bless you! and underneath :
Pardon your unlucky son! Then he kissed the dear
names, and bathed them with his tears. In procefs of time
he engraved these dear names on a number of trees in other
parts of his island, and afterwards he used to offer his
prayers under one of these trees, and never forgot to inclu
de his father and mother
Theophilus. Oh, now Robinson is very good!
Father. He is now in a very good way, to become a
very good man; and this he owes to the wisdom of divine
providence, that brought him into this island.
Theophilus I think, God Almighty might now save him
and carry him back again to his parents!
{
Father. God Almighty, who alone can foresee, what is
to come, and what is good for him, will order his fate
accordingly. It is true, Robinson is now in all appearance
in the best road to daily amendment, but who knows,
what would become of him, if he now were on a sudden
de-
95
delivered from his island, and carried back to his parents!
how easily do men relarse into their former vices! Oh, my
children it is a very true saying: Let him, who standeth,
take heed, lest he fall!
Whilst Robinson was thus walking about along the sea-
shore, he thought, that it would not be amifs,
to bathe
himself. He therefore stript m); but, how great was his
astonishment, when he saw, in what ragged condition his
shirt was,
the only one he had. As he had already worn
n) it so very long in such a hot climate, it was scarce per.
ceptible, that the linen had ever been white before. He
therefore made it his first business
his first busineſs, to wash his shirt as
well as he could, before he bathed himself, and having
hung o) it on a tree, he jumped into the water.
that
In his youth he had learned to swim, and so he diver-
ted himself with swimming to a small neck of land
lay pretty far in the sea, and where he had never been yet.
Frederic. A neck of land, what is that?
Father. So they call a narrow track of land, which from
an island or continent is running into the sea. Look! if
yon bank of our small lake which runs into the water, we
re a little longer, it would be a neck of land. Do you un
derstand me now?
Frederic. Oh, yes!
Father. This thought of our Robinson's proved also very
lucky. He found, that this neck of land was under wa
ter, when the tide was in, and when it ebbed, the sea
left a great many turtles, oysters and muscles on dry ground.
For this time he could take none with him; neither was he
in want of any, because his kitchen was yet well provi
ded, but he heartily rejoiced at having made this new dis
covery.
m) to strip. ») to wear. o) to hang.
Whe.
96
Where he swam p), the sea was so very full of fish,
that he could almost catch them with his hands; and if he
had had a net, he might have taken them by thousands. It
is true he had no net as yet, but as in all his undertakings
hitherto he had so well succeeded, he hoped, that for the
future he should be able, to make himself a net too,
Happy at this agreeable discovery he went ashore,
having been an hour in the water. The warm air had quite
dried his shirt, and now he enjoyed the pleasure of putting
on clean linen.
after
But the thought, how long this joy would last, and how
soon this only shirt, which he was obliged to wear conti.
nually, would be worn 9) out," and what he should do
then? This thought greatly damped his joy. However
he soon took courage again, and having dressed himself,
he went home singing: Whoever places all bia
trust etc.
пог
John. 1 am glad to find him no more so dejected, and
that he now begins to trust in God.
Charlotte. O! I wish Robinson would come to us, I
like him very much now.
Theophilus. Nay! If Papa would please to give me so-
me paper, I should like to write him a letter.
Nicholas. And so would I.
John. I should be glad to write him a letter too.
Charlotte - And so would I, if I could but write.
Mother. You may tell me what you would write him,
and I'll write for you.
Charlotte. Oh, that's fine!
Mother. Well, come along with me! I'll give you
some paper.
p) to swim. g) to wear.
all
About
97
About half an hour after, they came one after another
running in, to shew, what they had been writing.
Charlotte. Here, dear Papa, here is my letter! Read
it, pray!
Father. (reading). S)
My dear Robinson!
:
Endeavour to be very industrious and good, that will
please the people and your parents too. I send you many
compliments. Now you see, how useful adversity is! The-
ophilus and John send their compliments to you, and s
do Dick and Nicholas. Come and see us once, and I'll give
you better instructions.
Charlotte.
Theophilus. Now mine, dear Papa! here is it
Father. (reading).
My dear Friend!
•
We wish you all possible happineſs and as soon as I
get some pocket money; I'll buy something for you. And
pray continue, as you have begun, to be a good lad. I
send you hereby a bit of bread; beware of falling sick. How
do you do now? Fare well dear Robinson. Without know,
ing you, I love you very much and am,
Hamburgh,
the 7th Febr. 1779.
Your faithful Friend
Theophilus.
Nicholas. Here is mine! I made it but very short.
Father, (reading).
Dearest Robinson !
I am grieved, that you are so unhappy! If you had staid
I
with
$) These letters and many questions and answers are
literally such, as were made and written a) by the
children.
a) to write.
98
A
with your parents, that misfortune would never have befal-
len you, Fare well! return soon to your dear parents. Once
more fare well.
Hamburgh,
the 7th Febr. 1779.
I am
Your faithful Friend,
Nicholas.
John. Now mine!
Father. (reading).
Honoured Robinson!
I pity you, that yon are quite separated from all living
creatures. I believe, that you now repent your inconfide-
racy. Fare well! I heartily wish, you may safely return
one day to your parents. Be sure, to trust in God for the
future, and he will certainly provide for you. Fare well
once more. I am
Hamburgh,
the 7th Febr. 1779.
Your faithful Friend,
John.
Dick. Oh, mine is good for nothing!
Father. But come, let's hear it!
Dick. I wrote a) it down in haste, that I might soon
be back again.
Father. (reading).
Dear Mr. Robinson!
How do you do in your island? I hear, you have under-
gone b) many misfortunes. I suppose, you don't know as
yet,
whether your island be inhabited or not? which I
shou'd like to know. I have also been informed, that you
found c) a large lump of gold; but, that will be of no
use to you in your island.
(Father. You might have added: neither does a great
# to write. b) to undergo. ♦) to find.
deal
-29
deal of gold make men better and happier here in
Europe),
It would have been better for you, had you found iron
instead of it, of which you might have made yourself a
a hatchet and other tools. Fare well! I am.
knife,
?
Hamburgh,
the 7th Febr. 1779.
Four friend,
Dick.
Theophilus. But how are we to send our letters now?
Charlotte. Why, we may give them to the first cap.
tain, who sails for America; and by him we may send
him something too! I will send him raisins and almonds i
dear Mama
dear Mama, won't you?
you will give me some,
John. (Whispering to the father). They really believe,
that Robinson is still alive!
៖
Father. My dear children! I thank you in Robinson's
name for the great friendship you show him. But as for
the sending these letters that can not be done.
Theophilus. And why not?
Father. Why not? Because Robinson's soul is long
since in heaven, and his body moulder'd into dust,
Theophilus. Alas! he is dead then? Why he has just
now been bathing himself,
Father. You forget, dear Theophilus, that what I told
d) you of Robinson, happened above two hundred years
ago. He is dead long since. But I will have your letters
printed in the history, which I am writing of him. Who
knows, but he may hear in heaven, that you love him so
much and that will no doubt, give him great satisfaction
even there.
d) to tell,
:
I a
Char-
100
Charlotte. But won't you tell us something more of
him?
Father. Oh yes, I can tell you a great deal more of
him, which will be as agreeable to you, as what you have
already heard. But I think, we have heard enough of him
to - day. Robinson, after having bathed himself, went
home singing, ate his supper, said his prayers, and went
joyfully to rest.
And we will do the same now.
EIGHTH
EIGHTH EVENIN G.
Frederic. Mama, mama!"
Mother. What do you want, Frederic?
Frederic. John begs, you would send him another shirt.
Mother. Why another shirt?
Frederic. Why, otherwise he can not come out of the
bath.
Mother. Why so? Can not he put that on again, which
he had on to- day?
Frederic. No, Mama, he has washed it, and it is not
dry yet. He would do like Robinson !
Mother. Well, I will give you one.
Take this, and
make haste, to come back again. Papa is going to conti
nue the story.
Mother. (To John, who is coming with the rest.) Well,
friend Robinson, how do you like the bath?
John. Very well! But I could not
Father. You didn't consider get my shirt dry again.
this country,
that it is not so warm in
as in Robinson's island. But, where did we
leave off yesterday?
Dick. Where Robinson went to rest and the next mor-
ning
Facher. Oh, now I recollect!
1 3
The next morning
Ro
102
Robinson rose e) very early and prepared for the chace. He
filled his pouch with roasted potatoes, and a good piece of
roasted turtle, which he had wrapped up in cocoa - leaves.
Then he put his hatchet into his girdle, tied the cord
which he had twisted the day before, about his waist,
took his umbrella in his hand, and thus equipped mar◄
ched forth.
It was yet very early; he therefore resolved, to take
some round about way for this time, in order to make
himself acquainted with some other parts of his island.
Among the great many birds, that were sitting on the trees
he espied several parrots of the most beautiful colours. How
great was his desire, to have one of them, that he might
tame it, and have it for his companion. But the old ones
were too cunning, to be taken with the hand, and he
could no where find a nest with young ones. So he was
obliged to defer the accomplishment of this wish to ano
ther time.
But instead of that, he discovered in the progrefs of his
walk something more necessary than a parrot. When he
was getting up a hill,
a hill, near the sea, and looking down
between the cliffs, he saw something, that excited his.
curiosity. He therefore scrambled down,
ry great satisfaction, he found, that is was
you think?
and,
to his ve!
what do
John. Nay, that would not have rejoiced him much!
I suppose it was iron.
Nicholas. Why, have you forgotten, that iron is not
to be found in those hot countries? Perhaps another
lump of gold!
Charlotte. You have hit it finely! Could that have been
any cause of joy to him, think you? Why he could make
no use of gold.
✔) to rise.
Fas
103
Father. I perceive, you won't be able to gueſs it; So
I'll rather tell it you. What he found, was salt.
He had indeed hitherto in some measure supplied the
want of it, by sea water, but after all that was no salt.
Besides this, sea water has a bitter taste, which is very
disagreeable; and moreover it was a mistake, to think,
that meat would keep in it, because sea-water grows pus
trid as well as river water, when it comes to stand still in
a vessel. He therefore thought himself very happy in fin-
ding real salt, and now he filled both his coat pockets
with it for immediate use.
→
-
Theophilus. But how did that salt come there?
Father. You do not remember, I dare say, what I once
told you of the origine of salt ?
John. Oh yes, I know it!
earth,
some is boiled from salt
Some is dug f) out of the
water, which springs out
of the ground, and some is also made of sea - water.
Father. Very right! Now salt is boiled out of sea-water
not only by men, but also by the sun,
Theophilus. The sun?
Father. Yes, when any sea-water is left g) on shore,
after a high tide or an inundation, the sun dries it up by
degrees, and what then remains, is salt.
Charlotte. Why, that is very odd!
Uather. So bountifully has God Almighty provided for
us, that those things, which we are most in need of, re-
quire the least preparation by art, and are found in the
greatest abundance,
Now Robinson went quite
he expected to catch a lama.
satisfied to the place, where
When he arrived there, he
saw none, but it was not noon as yet. So he sat down
under a tree,
to feast in the mean time on his roast meat
f) to dig. g) to leave.
14
and
104
and potatoes! Oh, how much more relishing was this meal
now,
as he had some salt, to eat with it!
八
​Just when he had done eating, he discovered some lamas
capering about at a distance. -
Robinson put himself quickly in readinefs, and waited for
them, with his snare open. Several had already passed him
beyond his reach: but lo! now one came so near him,
that he had. no more to do, than to drop his hand, to
get it into his snare. He did so, and from that moment
the lama was in his possession!:
It was going to bleat, but his fear, that the rest might
be frightened by it, made him draw the snare so close,
that the poor creature was not able to utter a sound. Then
he drew a) it as fast as possible into the wood, that the
rest might not see it.
The captive lama proved to be the mother of two young
ones, which, to Robinson's great. joy, followed her of
their own accord, and seemed not at all afraid of him. He
stroked the pretty little creatures, and they licked his hand,
as if they would beg him, to set their mother at liberty.
::
Theophilus. Oh, then he ought to have let her go!
Father. He would have been a very great fool, if he had.
Theophilus. Ay, but the poor creature had done him
no harm!
Father. But he wanted her; and you know, my dear
Theophilus, we are allowed to employ animals for our use,
if we do not abuse them.
Now Robinson was highly delighted, too see his wish so
happily accomplished. He dragged the captive animal, not-
withstanding her violent struggles, with all his strength along.
with him, the two little ones following of themselves. The
shortest way was now the best for him, and so arrived at
his habitation at last.
a) to draw.
But
105
But now another difficulty started. How was he to get
his lama into his yard, which as you know, was well en
compassed with trees on all sides?
on all sides? To let it down from
the top of the rock, was not adviseable, because the poor
thing would have been strangled by the way. He therefore
resolved to make a small stall, on one side of his yard,
and keep the lama with her young ones in it, till he could
find out some better contrivance.
He fastened his lama to a tree, whilst he was making a
stall for her. He cut a good many young trees with his
hatchiet, and planted them so close together, as to make
a pretty strong wall. The tired lama had in the mean time
laid herself down and the young ones, not knowing that
they were captives, lay by her sucking at their ease.
Oh, how delightful was this sight to our Robinson! More
than ten times he stopped to look at the little animals, and
thought himself now very happy, to have some living erea-
tures about him for his companions! From this moment his
life seemed no longer quite solitary to him, and the satis-
faction he felt b) at it, gave him so much strength and
sprightlineſs, that his stall was finished in a very short ti
me. After which he put the lama with the young ones into
it, and carefully closed the opening with twigs.
How greatly was he now delighted! Oh, it can not be
expressed! Besides the company of these animals which
of itself was invaluable to him, he expected many more
advantages from them, and that he justly might! Of their
wool, he could in time learn to make himself some cloa-
thes, he could drink their milk, or make butter and cheese
of it. It is true, he did not know as yet, how to set
about all this, but he had already sufficiently experienced,
15
that
b) to feel.
106
that we ought not to despair of our abilities, if we have but
inclination and industry enough to work.
One thing still was deficient in compleating his happineſs.
He wished to have his creatures within the same enclosures
about him, that, when at home, he might always see
them, and have the satisfaction to accustom them to his
company.
For a long while he puzzled his brains, how to execute
this intention, without coming to any resolution. However
at length he resolved to break down one side of his wall,
to take out the trees, and to plant others in a greater cir-
cumference, in order to enlarge at the same time his yard
a little. But he wisely resolved not to pull down the old
wall, before he had every thing ready to make a new one,
that he might in the mean time live safe in his habitation.
By his indefatigable industry the work was finished within
a few days. And now Robinson had the great satisfaction
of living with his three companions in the same habitation.
However he did not forget the pleasure which his first com-
panion the spider had given him, when he first discovered
it; and he continued daily to feed it with flies and midges,
That insect too, soon perceived his friendly intention to-
wards it, and grew so intimate with him, that he no soo.
-ner touched the web, but it came down to receive the fly
from his hand.
The lama also and her young ones, in a very short time
used themselves to his company. Every time he came home,
they jumped to meet him, smelled about him, as if they
expected, he had brought something home for'em c) and
gratefully licked his hand, whenever he gave them any fresh
grafs or young boughs.
6) e. i. for them.
Af
107
After this he weaned the young ones from the mother,
and began to milk her regularly every morning and evening.
His cocoa-shell he used instead of a small milk-pan and his
turtle - shell as a large one: and the milk he used partly
sweet, and the rest he left to grow sour. All this greatly
contributed to increase the pleasures of his solitary life.
·
As the cocoa tree proved so very useful to him, he wishe
ed for his life, to multiply it! But how could that be
done? He had indeed heard, that trees might be grafted
or inoculated, but he had never troubled his head about
the manner of doing it. He would often cry out, sighing:
how little did I know my own good, when I was young!
Oh, that I had been more attentive to every thing I saw or
heard, what a great deal might I have learned of other
people! Oh, could I grow young again, how attentive would
I be to every thing, that the hands of men, and human
skill can make! There should be no mechanick, handicrafts -
man or artist, whom I would not learn something of.
Though he had known the art of grafting ever so well.
yet it would have been of no use to him, because the co-
coa-tree has no twigs nor boughs, but only a crown of
large leaves. But when people intend to graft they must
have a graft of that tree, which is to be multiply'd: this
graft must then be placed in the split, made in a young
tree, after the crown is cut off, and the place must be
filled up with grafting wax, and wound d) round with a
rag or bafs. In this manner the graft grows fast to the stem,
and afterwards produces the same kind of fruit as the tree,
from which it was taken,
"
Robinson saw no other means of multiplying the cocoa-
tree, but by planting some of the nuts. He resolved to do
so, however unwilling he was, to sacrifice such delicious
and
d) to wind.
108
and rare food; and in a short time, he had the pleasure
of seeing his hopes fulfilled and some young cocoa-trees
growing up.
The old lama with her yonng ones, were in a short time
become as tame, as dogs are with us. He therefore began,
by degrees to use them for his conveniency, to carry bur-
thens, whenever he had any thing to fetch home which
was too heavy for him to carry at once.
John. But how could he take them out, as they were
inclosed in his yard?
Father, I forgot to tell you, that he had left an opening
in his new side wall, just large enough for a lama to creep
thro'. This place he covered with thick bushes, so that it
could not be seen from without and every night he carefully
closed it up with boughs.
It was delightful to see him come home with his lama
loaded and walking up before him. She knew the way back
as well as he, and as soon as she came to the little door,
she stopt, that he might first take off her load, then she
crept o) thro' the hole and Robinson followed the same way.
The return of the old lama was a great festivity for her
young ones! They expressed their joy by capering and bleat
ing, by running to their master, whom they caressed:
and Robinson was so delighted with all their demonstrations
of joy, as a father can be with those of his children, when
after an absence of some days, he returns home again, and
embraces them.
Friend B. It is very remarkable, that animals are so
very grateful to those persons, who do them good,
Father. We have a great many remarkable instances of
that gratitude, so that we should almost be tempted to ima-
gine, that they had human understanding, did we not know
from other reasons, that this is not the case with them.
⚫) to creep.
109
Dick. Oh yes, the
and the man
ol,
lion, I read of in our little book,
what is his name?
John. Androclus!
Dick. Oh yes.
lion's paw!
He, who drew a thorn out of a
Theophilus. That was indeed a very good lion! He loved
Androclus so much for this relief afforded to him, that so.
me time after, when he was to tear him to pieces, he did
him not the least harm Nay, if they were all so, I
should like to have a lion too.
John. But I like that dog much better, which a certain
man had in Switzerland.
Charlotte. What dog was that?
John. Don't you remember? the same that saved the
lives of two men.
Charlotte. Oh, dear John, tell us that story!
John. There was once a man in Switzerland:
Charlotte. Oh yes, from whence the marmottos come?
John. Even there. This man climbed up an enormous
high mountain, so high nay, I dare say, ten times as
high, as St. Michael's steeple!
Theophilus. You forget something, dear brother! He
took a guide with him.
John. He did so indeed!
Well, and the guide took
his dog along with him. Now when they came to the top
of the mountain.
Theophilus. Ay, and the mountain was quite covered
with snow.
John. Nay, be quiet!
Yes the mountain was quite
covered with snow; now being almost come to the top,
the gentleman's foot slipt u) and the guide, who was going
to help him, slipt likewise, and so they were both rolling
down.
K
%) to slip.
110
down, and just, when they were but a few steps from
the brink of a precipice, above a mile deep, the faithful
dog got hold of the skirt of his master's coat, who then
held a) the gentleman and stopt ) him from falling down,
so that they both got upon their legs again.
Theophilus. Ay, but now you must tell us too, what
the gentleman said! I know it yet very well.
John. And so do I! He desired his guide to come and
see him now and then at his house, and by all means to
bring the dog along with him, for whom he would always
have a fried sausage.
Charlotte. Did the man do so then?
and never
John. Oh yes! Whenever the guide came to see him,
he always entertained him in the best manner,
failed to treat his dog with fried sausage.
Charlotte. That was right.
Father, Well, my children, we have quite forgotten our
Robinson; shall we have done with him for to-day?
Theophilus. Oh no, dear Papa! Let us hear a little
more of Robinson.
Father. His bricks were now hard enough for use. He
therefore looked about for some clay, to build his wall,
because he had no lime, and he soon found some. Then
he made himself a trowel of a flat stone, and to compleat
all, what is requisite for a bricklayer, he even made him.
self a level and a plummet as well as he could. I suppose
you know these things?
Nicholas. Oh yes, we have seen them pretty often.
Father. Having now made all these necessary preparations
for his work, he took one of his lamas, and brought a
sufficient number on her back home,
a) to hold. b) to stop.
John.
III
John. But how could he put the bricks on the lama's
back?
Father. You'll hardly guefs, how he contrived that, and
so I'll tell it you directly.
He had long perceived, how very advantageous it would
be for him, to know something of the useful art of basket-
making. But in his youth he had never thought it worth
his while, to observe a basket maker with attention, when
be was at work, so that he knew no more of this very
easy art, as of all the rest.
•
But as he had already been succeſsful in making himself
an umbrella of basket work, and having afterwards employ
ed many leisure hours in this kind of work, he had by de.
grees so much improved in it, that at length he was able
to make a pretty strong basket. Now he had made two of
these baskets for his lama. These he tied together with a
rope, which he laid across the lama's back, so that there
was on each side.
Theophilus. Oh, Papa, I should like to learn to make
baskets too!
Father. And so should I, dear Theophilus; and I will
therefore, on the very first opportunity, desire a basket
maker to give us some instruction.
Theophilus: Oh fine! Then I'll make a pretty neat little
basket for my Charlotte.
Charlotte. And I'll learn it too! shall not 1 Papa?
Father. Oh yes! It will do you no harm. We often
want to be employ'd, while I am telling you stories; and
basket-making will then suit us very well,
→
Now Robinson began to build his wall, in which he suc
eeeded pretty well. He had already finished one side wall
of his kitchen, and laid the foundation of the other: when,
all of a sudden, there happened something, which he had
not foreseen, and which caused a very great impediment to
his work.
John.
Ка
112
John. What could that be?
Charlotte. Oh, I can gueſs it! Certainly the savages
came, and devoured him alive.
Theophilus. God forbid: Is that so, Papa?
Father, No, not so: but it was something, that frigh
tened him almost as much, as if the savage had come to
roast him alive.
John. Well, and what was it then?
Father. It was night, and Robinson lay e) on his couch,
with his faithful lamas at his feet. The moon shone ƒ) in
her full lustre; the air was serene and hushed, and a pro•
found silence prevailed over all nature. Robinson tired with
the fatigues of the day, was lying in a sweet slumber and
dreaming, as he often used to do, of his dear parents,
when suddenly but no! we will not conclude this eve-
ning with so frightful an accident. We might dream of it
in the night, and then our sleep would be very restless.
All. Oh, poor Robinson!
Father. Let us rather turn our thoughts to something mo-
re agreeable, that we may also close this day with joy and
thanks to our heavenly father. Come, my children, We
will first pay a visit to our flower beds, and then to our
arbour.
e) to lie. f) to shine,
-
NINTH
NINTH EVENING.
The father having brought the tale so far as we have seen
at the end of the last chapter, there occurred so many oc
cupations, that evenings passed on, before he could resume
hi narration.
However the young people of the house were not a little
concerned about poor Robinson, and curious to know what
might have befallen him, they would willingly have given
their best toy, may something more valuable, if they could
have been inform'd what had happened to him that night,
which was last mention'd. But no person but the father
could tell it them; and he thougt proper not to mention
it to them, till he had sufficient time to pursue his story
regularly.
This created continual conjectures among them, and great-
ly puzzled their brains, whilst the father continued in this
disagreeable silence. One guessed this, another that; but.
nothing would intirely fit the circumstances, with they had
already been told of the unknown adventure.
But why are we not to know it yet" said some of them,
with a very piteous aspect.
1 have my reasons,"
answered the father.
As the children were accustomed to be satisfied with this
answer, they pressed him no farther, and with modest
impatience waited for the hour, when the reasons of this
K 3
si.
114
"
silence should cease. However, as grown persons can easi
ly look into the hearts of children, and gueſs all their
thoughts, it was not very difficult for the father to read in
the countenance of some of them: But what may those
reasons be, that detain him so lorg from gratifying our cu-
riosity." He therefore thought it once more necessary on this
occasion, to convince them that it was not for want of good
will to oblige then, but that his reasons, for acting in this
must be of importance.
manner,
,, Prepare," said he to them, to set out early to mor
row morning, on your long wished for journey to Trave
mund on the Baltic!"
To Travemund?
To the Baltic? To morrow mord
ning? Shall I go too, dear Papa? was the general cry,
and when the father, without excepting any one, answered
all their questions in the affirmative, there arose g) such
shouts of joy, as have certainly not been heard of late, nor
will be heard again in a short time.
"
To Travemund! to Travemund! where is my stick ?
Jenny,
where are my half boots? quick the brush! the
comb! a clean shirt! To Travemund! oh quick! quick!
And these exclamations resounded through the whole
house.
They were now preparing every thing for the next day's
journey; and our little travellers, in the height of their
joy, asked a thousand questions,
questions, without waiting for an
answer. They were with difficulty prevailed on to go to
bed that night, because they were so impatient, that they
could not wait for the return of day-light, and the begin.
ning of their journey.
Ar the first dawn of the day the whole house was in mo-
tion. The drum was beaten before every bed - chamber
and all were obliged to rise,
g) to arise.
And
115
And now when all, young and old, were in readineſs,
and the latter almost devoured by the kisses and caresses of
the former: the father rubbed his eyes and said in a tone,
which in the general voice of joy made a dismal disharmony:
,, My children, you would do me a great favour, if you
exempted me to day from my promise!"
"
What promise?” cried every mouth, and remained
half open with anxious expectation and affright.
Father. From my promise of going to day with you to
Travemund.
Now their terror was complete; not one of them was able
to utter a single syllable.
Father. I have considered during the last night, that
we should act very inconsiderately, if we began our journey
to-day.
"
The Children. But why so?" (with an interrupted
voice and a suppressed tear).
Father. I'll tell you why, and then leave the decision of
the matter to yourselves. In the first place, we have had
a continual west-wind for some time past, which drives the
water of the Trave with such impetuosity into the sea, that
not a single ship can get to and from the harbour of Trave
mund, because then the water is too shallow at the mouth
of the river, and you know, we should all of us be glad
to see both, when we are once there.
1
The Children. „Oh, it is possible the wind may change
to day!"
Father. Besides I have reflected, that if we wait four
weeks longer, it would be just about the time, when the
herrings come in great numbers from the Frozen - sea into
the Baltic. Then the sea is quite full of them up to the
very mouth of the Trave, where the fishermen catch them
without any great difficulty. That we should like to see too,
shoud not we?
K 4
The
116
The Children. Yes
"
but
Father. But now comes my strongest reason! What would
our new friends Mathew and Ferdinand think, who will be
here in a few weeks, if we had taken this journey before
their arrival? would they not sigh and be sorry, whenever
we should happen to speak of the pleasure, we had on this.
journey, and could then the remembrance of it be agreeable
to any of us? No certainly, we should always silently ma
ke ourselves reproaches for not having done to them, what
we should wish, they had done to us, if we were in their
place, and they in ours --- well, what do you say to that?
A dead silence.
*
Father. You know I always keep my word; so that, if
you insist upon it, we shall set off; if not, you do me, and
our future friends and yourselves a particular service. Speak
now? what shall be done?
19
We will wait;" they all answered, and thus the fine
journey was deferred to another time.
It was very plain, that this self-denial was very hard to
many, neither were they half so well disposed, as they
used to be, for the rest of the day. This gave the father
occasion to speak to them in the evening in the following
manner.
,, My good children, the disappointment, you experienced
to-day, will often happen to you in the course of your life.
You will sometimes expect this or that earthly happiness;
your hopes will appear to be built on a firm basis and your
desire of it will be very eager. But the very moment in
which you are going to become master of that supposed hap-
pineſs, you'll find yourselves suddenly disappointed by the
wisdom of divine providence, and all your hopes frustrated.
The reasons, why your heavenly father acts so towards
you, will seldom appear to you so clearly as those which
hindered us this morning from going to Travemund. God
being
117
being infinitely wiser than I am, looks into the 'remotest
futurity and often suffers some accident to befall us for our
good, the happy consequences of which we do not disco-
ver but a good while after, nay perhaps not before the life
to come, whereas I only foresaw the consequences of four
weeks."
"
Now if every thing had succeeded to your wishes in your
youth, and had you always obtained the things you hoped
for,
at the time you expected them, oh, my children! how
sad would be the consequences in your older days, how
would it pervert your hearts! and how unhappy would this
perverted heart make you, when, in your future life, the
time will come, that every thing does not go entirely to
your wishes! And such a time will certainly come, my
children, for you as certainly as for other people; for there
was never yet a man on earth, who could say that every
thing turned entirely out to his wishes."
""
What then is to be done, my dear children? No-
thing but this you must early accustom yourselves to re.
nounce those pleasures, which you would willingly have en-
joyed. This often repeated selfdenial will strengthen you,
strengthen your minds and hearts and enable you,
to bear
with resigned fortitude, whatever our wise and most boun-
tiful maker has decreed for your good."
>>
This, my children, is the key to that conduct, which we
grown people sometimes make use of towards you, and
which to you may seem to be a riddle! You will remem.
ber, that we often refused you a pleasure, which you would
willingly have enjoyed. Sometimes we told you the reasons
of our refusal, that is, when you could conceive them, and
we thougt proper you should know them, and sometimes we
did not, and why did we so? Very often, it was to
exercise you in patience and moderation, virtues so very ne▪
cessary to all men, and to prepare you for the rest of your
lives!"
Now
K 5
118
Now you also know, why I would not tell you any
more of our Robinson all these days past. I might easily
have spared so much time, as was requisite to explain you
at least the circumstances, which I lately concluded with,
and about which I left you all in so disagreeable an uneer.
tainty. But no, I did not tell you a single word more of
it; notwithstanding your entreaties, and tho' I am very
averse from refusing you any thing." And why did I 80,
Charlotte?
Charlotte. It was to teach us patience.
Į
Father. Right! And certainly, if you hereafter have any
obligations to me, it will be for accustoming you to renoun
ce the possession of a thing, you greatly valued and longed
for, without much regret.
Thus some days more passed without any mention of Ro-
binson. At last the long wished for hour arrived, when the
father was no longer hindered from satisfying their curiosity.
He therefore continued his interrupted story in the following
manner:
It was night, as I have already told you before, and our
Robinson lay quietly on his bed of hay, with his faithful la
mas at his feet. A profound silence prevailed through all na-
ure, and Robinson was dreaming as usual of his parents,
when suddenly the earth began to tremble in an unusual
manner, and a strange rumbling and roary was heard under
the earth, as if many thunder storms were breaking out at
one time. Robinson awoke r) with terror, he started up,
without knowing what was the matter, or what to do. That
same moment several dreadful shocks succeeded each other,
the tremendous subterranean rumbling continued ;
same time there arose a howling hurricane, that broke d)
the trees,
tore e) them up by the root, made the rocks
r) to awake. d) to break.) to tear.
at the
tum
119
tumble down, and so agitated the sea, that it roared aloud
from the deepest abyfs. All nature seemed to be in an ups
roar, and to draw near her dissolution,
Robinson terrified to death, rushed out from his cave,
into the yard, and his frightened lamas did the same. They
were scarce got out, when the rock over his couch fell down
upon it. Robinson scared out of his senses, fled t) through
the opening of his wall, with his terrified lamas follow-
ing him.
*
His first intention was, to get upon a neighbouring hill,
on one side of which there was a plain without wood, that
he might not be crushed by the falling trees. He was just
going to ran thither, when all of a sudden,
when all of a sudden, to his great
astonishment and terror, he beheld that very same spot of
the hill open into a wide gulph, from which smoaking
flames, cinders, stones and burning matter, called Lava, is,
sued. He was scarce able to save himself by flight, because
the burning Lava poured down like a torrent, casting large
stones, like a shower of rain, on all sides.
He ran
ters,
to the sea-shore. But here a dreadful scene
awaited him. A violent whirlwind blowing from all quar-
had driven a great many clouds close together, from
which such a dreadful torrent came down at once that the
whole island disappeared in a moment, and seemed to be
chang'd into sea. Such an unusual torrent from the clouds is
commonly called a water spout.
Our Robinson could scarce save himself, by climbing up
into a tree; but his poor lamas were carried off by the vio-
lence of the water. Oh, how his heart was pierced at their
lamentable bleatings and how willingly would he have saved
them at the peril of his own life, had the violence of the
torrent not carried them already too far off!
) to flee.
This
720
This earthquake continued for some minutes, when every
thing was calmed all of a sudden. The wind abated; by
degrees the mountain ceased to vomit forth the fire; the
subterranean rumbling was hushed, the sky became serene
again, and all the water subsided in leſs than a quarter of
an hour.
Theophilus. With a deep sigh.) God be praised; it
is over. Poor Robinson and the poor lamas !
Charlotte. This has horribly frightened me.
Frederic. Pray, what is the cause of an earthquake?
John. Papa has told us that long ago, before you ca.
me here.
Father. Explain it to him, John!
John. There are many large and wide cavities in the carth,
like so many cellars, which are full of air and vapours. Be-
sides there are all sorts of combustible matters in the earth,
such as brimstone, pitch, rosin and the like; these some-
times are heated and begin to burn, when any dampnefs co-
mes to them.
Theophilus. Dampnefs? Can wetnefs produce any heat?
John. To be sure, it can! have not you seen when
brick-layers pour cold water on lime stone, how they begin
to boil directly, as if they were over a fire; and yet there
is no fire all near them! Well in the same manner,
those matters begin to burn in the earth, whenever any wa
ter gets to them; and when they are once burning, the
air which is inclosed in these large cavities, spreads abroad
so excessively, that at length there is no more room left for
it. Now it seeks for a vent, shakes the earth, till at last
it makes an eruption somewhere or other, from which it
then issues like a torrent, and carries a great deal of burn.
ing and melted matter along with it.
Father. And this matter consisting of melted stones, me.
tals and the like, is called lava. I have read somewhere,
that
120
that a small volcano may be imitated; if you have a mind
we will make a trial some day or other..
All. Oh yes! Oh yes, dear Papa!
John. And how is that done?
Father. We only need bury a pretty large quantity of
brimstone and filings of iron in some damp place: this maſs
heats and catches fire of itself, and then we have in minia.
ture, what is called a volcano. We will shortly make a
trial of it, if every one will save so much of his pocket
money, to pay for the expences.
Ail. Oh yes! Oh yes, dear Papa!
ne,
Father. Of this more at another time.
Robinson, now getting down from the tree, on which
he had taken his refuge, was so dejected at the misfortu
that had befallen him, that he never once remembe
rod, to return thanks to HIM who so visibly had saved him
from death. His situation, indeed, was again as miserai
ble as ever; the only secure retreat, he had hitherto found,
was in all probability ruined; his dear, faithful lamac care
ried off by the torrent, all his former labours rendered use.
lefs, and all his fine schemes for future times baffled! The
hill indeed had ceased casting forth fire, but still there an
rose a thick black smoke from the gulph,
sible, that it might remain a volcano ever after;
did, how was it possible for Robinson, to be
easy? had he not every day a new earth-quake, or a new
explosion of the mountain to apprehend?
and it
was pose
and if it
a moment
These melancholy thoughts grieved him sorely. He was
overwhelmed with sorrow and instead of applying to the
true source of comfort to God, his thoughts were only
employ'd with the misery of his future condition, which pre-
sented itself to him as infinitely great and unspeakable.
Spent with anguish and oppression, he was leaning against
the tree from which he had got down, and his oppres
"
L
sed
123
#ed breast vented incessant sighs. In this comfortlefs situas
tion he remained, till the dawn proclaimed a new day.
Now I see, that Papa was
Theophilus. (To friend R.)
right.
Friend R. In what?
Theophilus. I lately imagined, that Robinson was beco
me quite good, and that God might now deliver him from
his island; and Papa then answered: that God Almighty
knew that best himself, and that we could not judge of it.
Friend R. And?
Theophilus. And now I see very well, that he had not
placed so much confidence in God as he ought, and that
God Almighty was in the right, not to deliver him yet.
Nicholas. I think so too. And now I don't like Robin-
son half so well.
Father. Your observation, my children, is perfectly
sensible. We see indeed very well, that Robinson was yet
very far from having that firm, unalterable filial confidence
in God, which he ought to have had after so many proofs
of his goodnefs and wisdom, as he had experienced. But
before we condemn him, let us first put ourselves in his
place and ask our own hearts, if we should have acted bet.
ter if in his place? What do you think, Nicholas, would
you have been easier in Robinson's place?
>
Nicholas, With a low and doubtful voice.) I don't
know.
Father. Remember the time, when you had a blister
laid on your back, on account of your sore eyes, and
which was painful to you. Do you still recollect, how de
jected it sometimes made you? And yet, it was but a trif
ling, transitory suffering, which lasted only two days! I
know,
, you would now, on a similar occasion, shew much
more fortitude. But whether you would have resolution
enough, to bear all the sufferings of Robinson, with a
pious
125
pious and filial mind
I not doubt of that?
what do you think, my lad, may
Your silence is the best answer to this question. You cans
not know yourself, how you would behave in that case,
because you never were in it. All we can do now,
is to
accustom ourselves to turn our eyes to God, and to be
always patient and resign'd, when any such trivial and in.
significant evils befall us. That will strengthen our hearts
from day to day, and enable us to bear greater sufferings
whenever God shall please to send them..
The new day approached, and the rising joyful light
found poor Robinson in that comfortleſs situation, in which
we have seen him leaning against the tree. His eyes had not
been comforted with sleep, and no other thought entered
his soul, but the dismal, melancholy question : What
will now become of me?
At last he set out and like a dreamer reeled towards his
destroy'd habitation. But, how great was the joyful surprize
that seized him, when near. his yard what do you think?
his dear lamas came safe and sound jumping to meet
him! At first he could not believe his eyes; but all his
doubts were soon dispelled, when they came up to him,
licked his hands, and expressed their joy by leaping about
him and bleating.
In that moment Robinson's heart, which hitherto had
Beemed to be dead, recovered. He looked on his lamas
and to heaven. by turns, and a tear of joy, gratitude and
repentance of his despondency, trickled down his cheeks,
Then he loaded his restored friends with joyful caresses;.
and accompanied by them, he went to see, what was be
come of his. habitation ?
Dick. But in what manner had the lamas saved them.
selves?
Father. It is probable, that the torrent had carried them
L 2
to
124
to some rising ground, where they could stand on their
legs; and the water, subsiding as fast, as it had poured
down from the clouds, they soon returned to their habi.
-tation.
Robinson now stood before his cavern and again to his
shame he found, that the damage was not near so great,
as in his despondency he had imagined. The top of his
cavern consisting of a rock, had indeed fallen in, and in
its fall had torn down an adjoining piece; but it did not
seem impossible, to get all these ruins out of his cavern a
gain, and then it would be twice as large as it was before.
Another circumstance again painly showed, that divine
providence had not done this to punish Robinson, but ra
ther to shew him her kinduefs. Upon viewing the place,
whence the piece of rock had tumbled down, he found to
his astonishment, that it had been surrounded with loose
mould on all sides. Therefore nothing was more probable,
than that sooner or later, it would have fallen down of it-
self God, by his Omniscience, had foreseen this, and
that it might probably fall at a time, when Robinson was
in his cavern. But as his wisdom and goodneſs had desti
ned him a longer life, he had so ordered the earth,
the beginning of the world, that just about that time there
should be an earthquake in that island. Even the sub-
terraneous rumbling, and the howling of the storm,
ever dreadful in the ears of Robinson, contributed to save
him. For if this earthquake had happened without any
noise, Robinson would probably not have been awakened,
and then the falling rock would certainly have crushed him,
and put an end to his life.
from
how.
Look, my children, thus God had again provided for
hin,
at the very time he thought himself forsaken; and
saved him, by that same dreadful accident, which Robin.
son, at first, had considered as his greatest misfortune.
And
125
And this, my dear children, you will often have occa
sion to experience in your future life. If you will but duly
mind the ways, which divine providence shall please to lead
you, you will always observe two things, in all the me
lancholy accidents of life, that will happen in your future
days, viz: r.)
First: That men always consider the misfortunes, that
befall them, greater than they really are.
Secondly: That all our sufferings are sent us from God,
for wise and good purposes, and in the end always turn to
our advantage,
Yes, my children; and rejoice in this comfortable truth i
There lives a God, who loves his work!
This all nature does us proclaim:
The mist that makes the sky look dark,
The clearest sun shine does the same.
•
'Tis seen by thunder clouds, that low'r,
And woods and mountains move;
'Tis seen by the refreshing show'r,
Which pours down from above.
We see it now in happineſs
With joy, delight and pleasure;
We may see it too in distress,
When suff'ring in some measure.
r) to wit.
TENTH
L3
TENTH EVENING.
Robinson,
(The father continues his story).
accustomed some time since to join prayers and
labour together, prostrated himself in order to thank God
for this new preservation, then joyfully fell to his work,
which was
to clear his habitation from the rubbish. The
mould he soon got out, but a large piece of the rock lay
at the bottom, which, tho' sever'd asunder, seemed
10 require the strength of more than one man, to be re-
moved.
He attempted to move the least of them, but in vain t
He found, that this work exceeded his force; he now stood
a) regarding them both in deep reflection, not knowing how
to proceed.
John. I know, what I should have done!
Father. Well what then?
John. Why, I should have made a lever, as we lately
did, when we rolled the large piece of wood out of our
yard.
Theophilus I was not here to see it; and what is a
lever then?
John. A strong, long stick; one end of which is put
a) to stand.
uh.
127
under the beam or stone, that is to be removed: and then
a stone, or a piece of wood is placed under the lever, but
close to the beam; then one takes hold of the other end
of the lever and presses it down on the small piece of wood
underneath it, by which means the beam is easily lifted up
and rolled away.
Father. How this is done, I'll explain to you another
time;
hear now what Robinson did.
After many long and fruitless reflections, the same exne.
dient at last presented itself to his imagination. He recol.
lected, that in his youth he had often seen workmen do
in removing heavy burthens, and he hastened to make
a trial of it.
so,
the two stones,
men,
He succeeded in his attempt, and in half an hour's time
which could not have been stirred by four
were rolled out of his cavern; and now he had the
satisfaction of seeing his habitation twice as large as before,
and in all appearance perfectly safe. For now the walls ag
well as the vault over head consisted of one single sto
in which there was not the least crack.
ne,
Nicholas. And what was become of his spider?
Father. It is well you put me in mind of it, I almost
forgot it. But indeed I can tell no more of it, than that
in all likelihood it was buried in the ruins; at least Robin.
son never saw it again, and his other friends, the lamas,
made him ample amends for this lofs.
from
Now he ventured to take a walk to the volcano,
which a black smoak still continued to issue. He was ásto»
nished at the great quantity of melted matter, which had
run about on all sides, and which was not yet cooled. For
this time he observed the dreadful and majestic spectacle of
the smoking abyfs, only at a certain distance; because his
fear as well as the hot lava hindered him rom approaching
nearer.
nea
LA
When
128
When he perceived that the torrent of the lava had taken
its course towards the place, where his potatoes were grow-
ing, he was not a little frightened, lest it should entirely
have ruined this whole place, and he could not be easy,
till he had convinced himself of the contrary. He therefore
ran to the spot, and to his great joy found the whole plan.
tation unhurt. From that moment he resolved to plant po•
tatoes at random in different places of the island, in order
to prevent the misfortune of losing this excellent fruit by any
accident. Tho', according to opinion, winter was at hand,
yet he thought, these roots might be of a nature to keep
good the whole winter in the earth.
After having executed this resolution, he began to work
at his kitchen, in which the dreadful revolution of nature,
he suffered, had procured him great advantage. The vol
cano had among many other things thrown out a vast quan-
tity of lime stones, which must first be burnt in a lime-
kiln, before they can be made into slak'd lime. There was
no need of that now, because the volcano had acted the
part of a lime-kiln.
All, that was left for Robinson now to do, was, to dig
a hole in the ground, and to throw lime stones into it,
then to pour water on them, and to stir the maſs, by
which means the lime was slaked, and made fit for use. He
then mixed it with a little sand, fell to work, and had
good reason, to be satisfied with his skill.
During this time the volcano had ceased smoking, and
Robinson ventured to examine it. He found the sides and
the bottom covered with cold lava, and when he saw, that
not the least smoke issued from any part of it, he had
reason to hope, that the subterraneous fire was quite ex-
tinguish'd and that he had no further eruption to fear.
Encouraged by these hopes, his thoughts were
bant
129
ex.
bent e) on laying in provisions for winter. For this purpose
he caught f) eight lamas, one after another, in the same
manner as he had doue the first. All these he killed
cept´a ram, which he kept g) as a companion for his three
tame lamas; most part of the meat he hung h) up in his
kitchen, to have it smoked. But before he did so, he sal-
ted all the meat, and left it in the salt for a couple of
days, because he remembered, to have seen his mother do
so at home.
This was indeed a pretty provision of meat; and yet he
feared, it might not be enough, in case the winter should
prove severe and long. He therefore wished to catch some
more lamas; but in this he was not succeſsful for these
animals were at last sensible of his persecution, and were
on their guard, so that he was obliged to invent some new
method of seizing them.
:
This way he soon found out; so inexhaustible is the un-
derstanding of man, if properly exerted, in finding out
means to promote its happinefs! He had observed that the.
lamas, when they got i) sight of him near the spring, al
ways ran away in great haste over a small hill, into the
neighbouring wood. The other side of this hill was covered
with small bushes in the form of a hedge, behind which
there was a steep wall, about two yards high. He had ob-
served that the lamas always jump'd over these bushes and
down the wall at one leap, and this observation was suffi•
cient for him,
He resolved therefore, to make a pit fall, that is to say,
to dig a deep hole that the lamas, when they jumped down,
might be caught ) in it. His indefatigable industry finished
this work in a day and a half; and he covered the hole
with
L 5
e) to bend. f) to catch, g) to keep. h) to hang. ) to get, k)
to catch.
130
with boughs, and the next day he had the satisfaction of
seeing two pretty large young lamas jump into it, so that
he got them.
Now he thought himself sufficiently provided with meat.
He would have been at a lofs, how to preserve it the who
le winter, if heaven had not by the earthquake provided
him with a convenient cellar; for, close by his cavern
another piece of ground bad sunk u) in, of about two fa.
thoms deep, with now formed a second cavern, the en-
trance of which was also in his yard. Thus he now had an
habitation, cellar and kitchen together, just as if they had
been made on purpose and by arte
Now he had three things more to do, in order to be
sufficiently provided for the whole supposed winter. The
first was to provide hay for his lamas, then fuel, and fi.
nally to dig up his potatoes and put them in his cellar.
•
In his yard he made a hay rick, in the form of a pyra-
mid, of the hay he had gathered, as country people do
with us,
and as often as he added some hay to it, he
trod v) it so close together, that the rain could not easily
soak into it. But here he gave another instance of ignoran
ce and inexperience, which cost him dear.
He had not had the precaution to dry his hay thoroughly.
When this is not well observed, and the hay is pressed
close together, it begins to grow hot; and heats to such
a degree, that it begins to smoke and even to burn at last.
This was a matter he had never heard any thing of in his
youth, because he never troubled his head about husban-
dry; but in his present situation he learned, how good it
is, to observe every thing, and to acquire as much know.
ledge as possible, tho' we can not foresee, of what use it
may be to use
u) to sink, v) to tread.
He
IZI
He was therefore not a little surprised, when he saw his
hayrick began to smoke; but his astonishment still encrea-
sed, when, on putting his hand into it, he found the hay
burning hot. He could not but think, some fire had got
into it, tho' he could not conceive how.
So he began directly to shake out the hay, but to his
astonishment he found no fire at all, but only that the hay
was hot and damp. At last he was so happy, as to hit ou
the true cause, and supposed the moisture must have heat-
ed it, tho' he could not gueſs the reason.
John. But in what manner can mere dampneſs heat any
thing?
Bes,
Father. Dear Johnt There are a thousand such pheno.
mena in nature, and human understanding, which, for
many hundred years has been searching after their true cau.
has been so successful as to discover many of them.
These causes are taught g) us in a science, the name of
which is still unknown to you. It is called natural phi
losophy, or Physicks. This science gives an account
of this remarkable circumstance, as well as of many other
surprising things in nature; and if you are very diligent in
learning, what we now treat of, we shall also begin this
science with you, and it will give you inexpressible pleasu
re. For the present it would be to ne purpose, to speak
of it; because you would not be able, to understand what
I should say about it.
Robinson dried his hay anew, and made another hay
rick, that was proof against wind and weather. For its
greater security he made a thatch of reeds over it, which
was very little inferior to our thatches with regard to
firmness.
The following days he employed in gathering as much dry
wood,
g) to teach.
152
wood, as he thought necessary. Then he dug o) up his
potatoes, of which he got a considerable quantity. These
he laid up in his cellar. At last he shook p) off all the ripe
lemons, in order to keep them up for winter, and having
done all this, he was quite easy with respect to provisions.
for the winter - season.
But this supposed winter never came, tho' it was alrea
dy the end of October. Instead of which it began to rain,
and rained so incessantly, as if all the air had been chan.
ged into water. Robinson did not know, what to think of
it. During a whole fortnight he had not been able to step
out of his habitation, except to his cellar, his hay. rick
and his well, to fetch provisions for himself and for his
lamas. The rest of his time he passed like a prisoner
Oh, how tedious and long did that time seem to him! To
have nothing to do and to be quite alone! My children,
you have no idea of what a man suffers under such circum.
stances! Could any body have procured him a book, pen,
ink and paper, he would willingly have given a day of his
life for a single sheet. He would often sigh and cry: Oh,
what a fool was I in my youth, to think writing and rea
'ding so tiresome, and idleness on the contrary so agree-
able! The most tedious book would now be a treasure for
me; and a sheet of paper with pen and ink, would be a
kingdom!
During this tedious time, necessity forced him to apply
to many occupations, which he never thought of before.
He had long since conceived a thought, whether it would
not be possible for him to make a pot and a lamp, two
things which would considerably improve his condition. He
therefore ran, notwithstandig the great rain, to fetch some
clay, and then he began his work.
e) to dig. 7) to shake.
It
133
It is true, his labour did not succeed directly; he was
obliged to make many a fruitless esfay; but as he had no-
thing better to do it was a pastime for him
a pastime for him, and fo he
amufed himſelf with breaking his work to pieces, when he
did not find it quite perfect, and made it all over again.
Thus he passed some days in very agreeable occupations,
till at length after many essays and miscariages, he had his
pot and lamp made, and so well, that it would have been
a folly to break them again. He now placed them in his
kitchen, not far from the fire, to dry by degrees. Then he
continued to make more pots, pans and pipkins of several
forms and sizes, and the more he worked, the more dex.
terious he grew q) at it.
Meanwhile these heavy rains continued. Robinson there-
fore saw himself obliged, to invent fome other domestic
occupations, that he might not feel the tediousnefs of time.
His next business was, to make a net for fishing. He had
before that time spun r) a considerable deal of pack thread,
which now was very useful to him. Having now time and
patience enough to try his work ten times and more, which
at first he could not bring to bear, he at last found out the
right knack of making the knots, and acquired such a
dexterity in it, as the Ladies with us in netting. He had
likewise invented a wooden instrument, which he made
with his knife, in the form of a net-needle. By these means
he compleated a net, which was but little inferior to those,
used by our fishermen.
1
Then it came into his head, to try, whether he should
not be able, to make a bow and arrows. Oh, how his brains
worked, when he resolved the great advantages, such a
bow might procure him! With a bow he might kill lamas
birds and what was still more defend himſelf in his
r) to grow. r) to spin.
M
has
134
habitation, in case he should ever be attacked by any savages.
He was so impatient to have his bow finished, that in ſpite
of the rain and wind, he ran out to fetch the necessary wood.
Every sort of wood was not fit for his purpose. He want
ed some, that was hard and tough at the fame time; such
as would bend, and yet ſtiff enough to unbend again.
John. That was elaſtick, I suppose?
Father. Right! I did not think, you had minded the
signification of that word, and for that reafon I would not
make uſe of it.
Now after having found and cut this wood, he carried
it home, and fet about it directly. But alas! how fensibly
did he now feel the want of a proper knife! He was oblig
ed to make twenty cuts and more, before he got off so
much, as we do in one,
we do in one, with our ſteel-knives. He ſpent
s) eight whole days at this work, tho' he kept t) close to
it all the time. I know fome folks, who would not have
had patience so long-
Theophilus. (to the rest) Papa means us!
Father. Right, Theophilus! and don't you think I am
in the right?
Theophilus. Oh yes, but for the future I will always
work on, without any intermission, whenever I have once
began u) a thing.
Father. You'll do very well; Robinson at least found it
fo. On the ninth day his bow was finished to his unspeakabl
joy, and now he wanted nothing but a ſtring and arrows
If he had thougt of it when he killed his lamas, he might
have tried whether it was not possible to make ſtrings of
their entrails, because he knew, that in Europe they were
made of the entrails of sheep. For want of which he now
twi-
) to spend. ) to keep. #) to begin,
135
twiſted a cord, as ftrong as he possibly could; and then
proceeded to make arrows.
What would he not have given now for a fmall bit of
iron, to make points to his arrows! but this wish was in
vain. - Whilst he was thus meditating at the entrance of
his cavern, what to take to ſupply the iron, his eyes acci
dentally fell on the lump of gold, which was still lying on
Away, faid he, kicking
the ground as a contemptible thing.
it aside, thou uselefs thing, and become iron, if thou wilt
be esteemed by me i After which he did not deign to look
at it any more.
Having reflected a long while, he at length recollected,
to have once heard, that the savages use the bones of large
fish, and sometimes sharp stones to make points for their
daris and lances. In this he resolved to imitate them, and
at the same time to make a lance: and this he executed
immediately. He went to the sea shore, and was so lucky
as to find some fish-bones and sharp flints, just as he wish
ed them. He then cut down a long strait pole for a lance,
and returned home, wet to the skin with rain,
In a few days his lance and arrows were finished. At the
end of his lance he fastened a pointed flint; and on the one
end of his arrows sharp fishbones, and on the other fea
thers, which, as you know, makes them fly the better.
Now he tried the usefulness of his bow, and found, that
notwithstanding its imperfection for want of iron, it would
be useful enough to kill birds and other ſmall animals; nay,
he did not in the least doubt, but he would be able to
wound a naked savage in a very dangerous manner, if he
could but come near enough; and as to his lance he had rea-
son to be still more satisfied with it.
Now his pots and his lamp seemed sufficiently dried, he
therefore proceeded to make use of them. First he put a
lump of tallow, which he had taken from the entrails of
M 2
the
136
the lamas, he had killed, into one of the new pipkins, in
order to melt it down, and to use it in his lamp as oil; but
he perceived to his great dissatisfaction, that the tallow, as
foon as it melted, foaked through the pipkin, and was
frying out again on the outside, so that but very little re-
mained in it. From this he concluded, that his lamp and
pots would have the same fault, and consequently be of
and so indeed they proved.
little use:
A very disagreeable circumstance this! He had been greate
ly rejoiced at the thoughts of passing the evening by a
light, and to make himself some warm broth, and now all
these pleasing hopes vanished at once!
Dick. That was indeed very mortifying.
Father. Indeed it was so! And certain folks would
have thrown away the whole. But Robinson had now pretty
well accustomed him felf to patience and had once for all
resolved to leave nothing unfinished, where there was the
least appearance of bringing it to perfection.
He therefore placed himself into his musing-corner (80
he called a corner of his cavern, where he used to sit,
whenever he was contriving any thing), and rubbed his fore
head; What may be the reason, faid he to himself,
""
that the pots in Europe, which are also made of clay, are
so much more folid, that they let nothing paſs through?
Ha! I believe, I have it! It is because they are glazed
glazed? hm! what may that be then, and in what manner
may that be done?
Ha! I believe, I know it! Ay, it
Didn't I read once, that several matters,
as sand and also clay are vitreous, and may by a strong fire.
be changed into real glaſs? They must place the pots into
a red hot furnace; and when the clay begins to melt, they
take them out, to prevent their running entirely into glaſs.
That I must imitate."
must be fol
Ay, ay, so it is!
He really did fo.
He made a large fire in his kitchen, and
when
137
when it was burning at its height, he put one of his pip.
kins into the midst of it. But a moment after it went →→
crack! and the pipkin broke to pieces.
·
"
Oh deart"
"
39
What in
cried Robinson,,, who could have thought that?
He therefore returned to his musing corner.
the name of wonder," thought he,,, may be the reason of
that? Did I ever see any thing like it? Yes, to be
sure, I did! When in winter time we placed a glaſs of
cold water,
or beer, on a warm stove,
se crack ?
And when did it not?
on the stove before it was quite hot.
didn't that likewi.
when it was placed
Very well, now I
have it! Ay, ay, it is so; the vesfel must not at once be
put into the heat, but be warmed gradually 1 must al-
so take care, to give the whole the same degree of heat."
"
This head of mine is an excellent one!" he cried,
jum.
ping up with joy and going to make a second trial.
This time he fucceeded much better. The pipkin didn't
burst, but yet it would not become glazed.
And what can be the reason?" thought Robinson again.
,, The fire, I think, was strong enough what can there
yet be wanting?' After having for a long while me
ditated upon the matter, he thought, he had hit the point
at last. The experiment he had made, had been in an open
fire, and not in a furnace, He thought the heat had been
diſperſed too much on all sides, which prevented the clay
from running into glaſs. Faithful to his refolution, to leave
nothing unfinished, he resolved to make a proper furnace.
But he was obliged, to defer setting about this work, till
the weather was become more convenient.
It still continued to 'rain, and the sky did not clear up
for two months. Now Robinson thought that winter was
coming, and behold, the winter was already past. ) He
M1 3
could
1) to paſs,
138
could scarce believe his own eyes, when he saw, that the
power of animating spring made new grafs, new flowers and
branches grow; and yet it was really so. This seemed in-
comprehensible to him; and yet he saw it with his own
eyes. ,, This," cried he, shall for the furure teach me
to deny nothing, what I can not conceive!"
3)
Mother. And did he not go to bed, when he had said so?
Theophilus. Why, Mama! we are not at all sleepy yet!
Father. I have no authentic account of it; however as I
find nothing more recorded for this day, in the relation of
his abode in the island; I am apt to think, that he went
to bed, after having said so. And we will do the same,
that, like him, we may rise to morrow with the sun.
I L E-
ELEVENTH EVENIN G.
Theophilus. Father, now I should like, to be in Robin-
son's situation.
Father. Indeed?
Theophilus. Yes, now that he has all those things, which
he was formerly destitute of, and lives in a fine country.
where there is no winter.
Father. Every thing he needs?
Theophilus. Why, has he not potatoes, meat and salt
and lemons; and fish, and turtles, and oysters, and can
be not make butter and cheese of the milk he gets from his
lamas.
Father. All that he has really had for fome time already;
I only forgot w) to mention it.
Theophilus. Why he has also a bow, arrows and a lan-
ce, and a good place to live in, and what can he want
more?
Father. Robinson knew very well the value of all this
and thank'd God for it Nevertheless he would have given
half of his future life, if a ship had come, to take him
back to his native country.
Theophilis. Yes, that I allow, but what could he wanı
befides this?
e)
g) to forget,
Fa
140
Father. Much, very much! not to say every thing. He
wanted that blessing without which there is no real happi-
nefs on earth; he wanted company, friends, beings of
his own species, whom he might love, and by whom he
might be loved in his turn. Far from his parents, whom
he had so greatly offended; far from his friends, whom he
could never hope to see any more; singled out from the
enjoyment or company of all mankind
alas! what joys
could he have in this deplorable, lonesome situation,
though he had possessed the greatest abundance of all the
earthly blessings. Try it, my young friends, try it for once,
stay but a single day alone, in a solitary place, and you'll
then feel, what it is to live in solitude.
Besides this, Robinson was yet very far, from baving
every thing, he might still want for the future. All his
cloathes were worn x) out in useless rags, and he could
not yet foresee the possibility of making himself new ones.
John. Why, I think, he might have done very well
without in his warm island, where there was no winter.
Charlotte. Fie! then he would have been obliged to go
naked.
Father. He wanted no cloathes indeed to shelter himself
against the inclemency of the weather; but he wanted them
to shelter himself against the insects, particularly against the
moschitos, which were in great abundance in bis island.
Nicholas. What are moschitos?
Father. A kind of flies, but whose sting is much more
painful than of those of our country. They are a great pla,
gue to the inhabitants of warm climates. For their sting
leaves blotches, almost as painful as those of bees and wafps.
Robinson's face and hands were continually swelled with
them. What then was he to suffer, when his cloathes
o) to wear,
should
141
should come to be entirely worm out! and that time was
rapidly approaching
This together with his longing after his parents and human
society in general, often made him sigh, whenever he was
walking near the sea-shore, and loking with longing eyes,
melting in tears, on the immense ocean, where he saw
nothing but water and sky. How often was his heart dilated
with fruitless hopes, when he saw a small cloud arising on
the horizon, which his imagination represented to him as a
ship, with masts and sails; and when he saw himself dis
appointed in his expectation, how would his tears trickle
down his cheeks, and with what anguish and dejection of
heart did he then return home!
Charlotte. Oh, he should have addressed bis fervent
prayers to God Almighty, and he would certainly have sent
him a ship.
Father. And so he did, dear Charlotte; he prayed day
and night to God Almighty, for his deliverance from the
desolate island, but he never forgot to add; Yet, oh Lord!
not my will but thine be done!
Charlotte. Why did he so?
Father. Because he was perfectly convinced, that God
Almighty knows much better than we do, what is good for
us. He therefore argued thus: If my heavenly father should
be pleased to keep me here still longer, he must certainly
have good reasons for doing fo, altho' I cannot discern
them; and so I must only pray to him for my deliverance,
on condition, that his wisdom thinks it advisable.
For fear, lest any ship should pass by, or cast anchor
near his island at a time, when he should not be near the
shore: he resolved to fix a signal on the small neck of land,
by which every ship, that might happen to pals, could
see, that there was a person in distress. This was a post
to which he fixed a flag.
Ni
142.
Nicholas. But, where did he get the flag?
Father. That I will tell you. His shirt was now in such
a condition, that he could wear it no longer. He theres
fore took the largest piece of it, and fixed it like a flag to
this post.
Now he would willingly have made an inscription on the
post to make his distress the better known; but how
could be do that? The only method in bis po-
wer,
was to engrave the letters with his stone-kuife. But
then the question was; in what language he ſhould make
this inscription! If he made it in german or english, a
french, spanish or portuguese ship might happen to come,
and then these people would not understand it. Luckily for
him he recollected a few latin words, by which he might
expreſs his wish.
+
Theophilus. Why, could the people understand that?
Father. The latin tongue, you know, has spread
through all the countries of Europe, and all the people,
who have had genteel education, know at least of it. Ro.
binson therefore hoped that there would be one or other on
board of every ship, who understood y) his inscription; fo
hé got it ready.
John. And what was it then?
Father. Ferte opem misero Robinsonio! Do you un
derstand, Frederic?
Frederic. Oh yes, Papa! Help poor Robinson!
Father. Now his most pressing wants were that of shoes
and stockings which fell at last piecemeal from his legs and
feet, and the moschitos attacked his bare legs so terribly,
that he did not know, what to do with himself for pain.
His face, hands and feet were since the rains, during which
these insects had unfpeakably multiplied, so swelled up by
their
7:
P) to understand.
143
their painful stings, that he did not look like a human
creature.
How often did he place himself in his musing morner, in
order to invent fomething by means of which he could cover
and screen himself against them! But to no end; he always
wanted the proper instrument and the necessary knowledge
to finish what he wished to make.
The easiest of all the means to cover himself with, appear
ed the skins of the lamas he had killed.. But these skins
were raw and stiff; and unfortunately, he had never trous
bled his head with obferving tanners and curriers, when
they prepare raw hides; and tho' he had known it, he had
neither needle or thread, to sew any cloathes of the
leather.
He was at this time in the greatest perplexity; he could
neither work by day, nor sleep by night for the incessant
persecution of the moschitos. And so he was absolutely o❤
bliged, to find out something or other, to prevent his pe
rishing in the most miserable manner.
Dick. To what purpose may God Almighty have created
these noxious insects, since they are only a plague to us.
Father. Tho what purpose do you think, God Almighty
has created you and other men?
Dick. Why, I think, that we should be happy in his
world !
Father. And what, do you think, induced him to do so?
Dick. Nay, his goodness, because he would not be
happy alone.
Father. Very right. But don't you think, that insects
also enjoy a kind of happineſs ?
Dick. Yes, I think they do; for we see them very mere
ry, when the sun shines.
Father. Well, cannot you conceive now, why God has
made them? They are to rejoice and to be happy on this
earth,
144
earth, as much as they can, according to their nature,
Is not this design very benevolent and worthy of his good-
nefs?
Dick. Why, I thought, God Almighty might have made
such animals only, as did no harm to others.
Father. You may thank God, that he did not do so.
Dick. Why?
Father. Because neither you nor I, nor any one of us,
would then exist.
Dick. How so?
ravenous
Father. Because we are precifely the most
the most deftructive of all animals! All other creatures upon
earth are not only our slaves, but we kill them also for
our pleasure; sometimes for the sake of their flesh, fome-
times for the sake of their skins,, sometimes because they
are in our way, and sometimes for this or that insignificant
reason. How much greater reason have not therefore the in-
sects, to ask why God made that cruel, that noxious
creature, man? What answer would you then give to the
By to this question?
Dick. (at a lofs) Indeed I can not tell.
res,
Father. My answer to her would be nearly as follows.
My dear fly, your question is a little rash, and proves that
your little head has not yet learned to reflect properly, other.
wise you would have found on the least reflection that God,
out of mere goodneſs, has so constituted many of his creatu
that one must live upon the other. For had that not
been the cafe, he could not have created half so many ani-
mals, because grafs and fruits would have sufficed but for
a few kinds of living creatures. Now, that the world might
be filled with many different beings, living every where
in the water, in the air and on the earth who rejoiced
in their existence while they lived, and that one kind of
them might not multiply to excefs and to the ruin of ano-
ther,
145
ther, the wisdom and goodness of God ordered it so, that
some creatures should live at the expence of others. · More.
over, your little silly head has never conceived, what we
men know with certainty, viz: that this life is for all the
beings created by God, and consequently for thee little fly
too, but a beginning, but a first dawn of another everlast
ing life and that for the future, a great many things will
become clear to us, which we can not as yet comprehend.
Who knows, whether you will not also learn, for what
purpose you at first were nourished by our blood and then
devoured by the swallow, or crushed to death by the fly-
flap? Till then be discreet, as a poor insect that can not
possibly judge of what the infinite wisdom of God is doing,
and we will give you an example in this.
What do you think, Dick, would the by, if she was
capable of any reason,
be satisfied with this answer?
Dick. For my part I am so!
Father. Wel, let us go on with our Robinson!
Necessity forced him, to make the best shift he could.
He took his skins and cut → to be sure, with a deal of
trouble with his stone knife, something that had a res-
semblance of shoes and stockings. They were like busking
and laced on the sides like spatterdashes : as he could not
sew either of them, he was obliged to content himself with
making small oilet-holes in them, in order to tie them fast
to his feet, by means of a twisted pack thread. This could
indeed not be done without great inconveniency
for note
withstanding he turned the rough side outward, he always
felt a burning heat in his feet, and the stiff hard side rub-
bed off his skin, when he took eyer so short a walk, and
caused him great pain. However he chose rather to bear
this, than be plagued by the moschitos.
·
He made himself a mask of another piece of very stiff
N
leas
1
1
£46
leather, into which he cut two small holes for the eyes,
and a third to breathe thro'.
And now
as his hand was in, he resolved, not to de-
Bist until he had made himself also a jacket and a pair of
breeches, all of lamas skins. This indeed cost him still
more trouble; but what is there in this world to be had
without it? and what may not be brought about by dint
of patience and application? And this work succeeded to
his great comfort.
The jacket was composed of three pieces, laced together;
that is, two for the arms, and a third for the body. The
breeches were made, like our riding breeches, of two pie
ces, laced together on the outside. These clothes he put
as soon as they were finished, with the resolution ne❤
ver to wear his european clothes again, except on solemn
holy days, and on the birth days of his parents which he
colebrated as holy - days.
on,
•
He had now the most singular appearance in the world.
From bead to foot be was wrapped up in rough skins. On
one side he wore r) a large stone hatchet, on his back a
great pouch, a bow and a bundle of arrows. In his right
hand he held s) a lance, that was as long again as him
self; in his left he held an umbrella, made of cocoa-
leaves and instead of a hat he wore a peaked basket, like◄
wise covered with a rough skin. Only think, how comi
cal he must have looked in this garb None, who had ac
cidentally seen him, would have taken him for a human
creature. He also could not but smile when he first saw
himself in a rivulet.
Now he recommenced his potter's work. He soon finish'd
his furnace, and then he tried, whether he could not glaze
his pots in a very brisk and strong fire. He therefore
r) to wear. s) to hold,
A
put
147
put all his pots and pipkins into the furnace; after which
he made by degrees a very strong fire, so that the furnace
became red hot. This violent fire he kept up till night,
when he slaked it by degrees, and now he was very cu
rious to see the result of it. But when he drew t) out the
first pot, he found to his great surprize, that notwithstan
ding all his trouble, it was not glazed at al, nor was the
second, and so on with the rest. But at last, considering
one of the pipkins, be perceived with as much joy as a84
tonishment, that it was very well glazed at the bottom.
Now his head was puzzled. What in the name of won-
der, thought be, , may be the reason that this single
pipkin only is glazed a little, and not one of the rest, and
yet they are all made of the same clay and burnt in the same
oven. He mused a long while, but could not find
the smallest particle that could give him any light into the
manner.
At last he recollected', that there had been some salt in
this pipkin, before he had put it into the furnace. He there
fore could not but think, that salt was the only cause of
the glazing.
John. Was the salt then really the cause of it ?
Father. Yes, what Robinson here discovered by cliance,
was long since known in Europe: Salt is the true cause,
by which many things are turned into glafs by the fire. Had
he only rubben over the pots with salt water, or flung u)
a certain quantity of salt into the red-hot furnace; all hia
pots would have been glazed by it.
The next day he went to make the experiment. The fire
in his furnace was already burning; he rubbed over some
of the vessels with salt-water, and put some dry salt in
others, to make both experiments at the same time: when
a) to draw. 4) to Alag,
N 2
in
748
in the midst of his labour, he was compelled to cease by
something, which he had feared a long while, by
of sickness.
- a fit
He found himself very qualmish, he was seized with a
violent head-ach, and felt a great wearinefs in all his
limbs. And now the most dreadful situation, that can ever
befall a man, awaited him.
,, Good God!" said he to himself,
what will become
of me, when I shall be no more able to get up? When
there is no compassionate hand, to relieve me in my dis-
trefs? No friend to wipe away my deadly sweat,
reach me my refreshment?
of me?"
or to
Good God, what will become
Quite oppressed with anguish, he fell down on the ground.
at these words.
If ever be needed firm and filial confidence in God, the
omnipotent and loving father, it was at this crisis deprived
of all human assistance, deprived of his own strength!
What remained to preserve him from perishing in his mises
ry? God, God alone, no body else in the whole world.
There he lay in agonies, struggling with death. His hands
clasped together; unable to speak, he fixed his looks to
heaven. Oh Lord, Lord! mercy - was all he could ute
ter from time to time with a sigh.
But his anxiety left him no respite; he summoned up his
last efforts to set, if possible,
if possible, the most necessary things
for his refreshment within the reach of his bed, that he
might not be quite without them, in case his illness should
'disable him from getting up. With great difficulty he got a
couple of cocoanut shells with water, and placed them near
him. He added some roasted potatoes and four lemons to
it and then sunk s) down quite exhausted.
If God Almighty had now been pleased, to call him away
s) to sink.
from
149
from the world by a sudden death, how gladly would he
have died! He ventured to pray God to do so; but soon
after he recollected, that his prayer was not reasonable.
,, Am I not a child of God?" said he to himself,
am
I not his creature; and is he not my kind, my wise and
powerful father? How then dare I prescribe to him what
he should do with me? Does not he know best, what is
good for me? And will not he do with me, as he thinks
most conducive to my happiness? Yes, yes, that my
bountiful and powerful father ceartainly will! Therefore be
thou silent, my poor oppressed beart! Look up to God,
thou my poor troubled soul to God, the greatest helper
in necessity! And he will certainly help thee, he will never
forsake thee whether in life or in death!
At these words he took courage again, and raising him.
self upon his knees, he thus pray'd to God with the grea-
test fervor of heart:,, I give myself up to thy paternal
guidance! Do with me according to thy mercy. I will with
out murmuring suffer, whatever thou hast decreed; and
thou wilt grant me strength to bear it. Oh, grant me strength
my father
this is all, I request grant me patience
in my sufferings, and firm confidence in thee. Grant this
my request, this only ardent request of thy poor suffering
child, for thy love's sake!"
Now a violent ague seized him: and tho' he had cover-
ed himself all over with lamas skins, yet he could not grow
warm. This cold fit lasted about two hours, when it chan-
ged into a bot one, which like a burning fire run thro' all
his veins. His breast heaved up and down, by the violent
beating of his arteries, like the breast of a man, who is
quite out of breath with running. In this dreadful situation,
be had scarce power enough left, to lift the cocoa nut,
shell with water to his mouth, to cool his burning tongue.
At last a dropping sweat broke out, which procured him
N4
600
150
some relief. When he had been about an hour in this con
dition, he recover'd his spirits a little. It was then, the
thought struck # him, that his fire might go out, if he
w)
did not put on fresh wood. He therefore, notwithstanding
his weakneſs, crept x) on all fours, to his fire - hearth,
and put on such a quantity of wood, as would be necessary
To keep up the fire till the next morning; for it was now
already night.
zo
This night was the most grievous, he ever passed. Cold
and hot fits succeeded each other, without intermission.
The most violent head-ach continued, and not a wink of
sleep befriended his wearied eyes. This so enfeebled him,
that he was scarce able the next morning, to creep to the
wood, in order to keep up his fire.
Towards evening his sickness encreased; he again tried
20 creep to his fire and to help himself to water; but this
time it was impossible so he was obliged to give it up,
and the certain hopes, that it would soon be over with him
made it a matter of indifference to him.
This night passed in the same manner as the foregoing.
The fire was in the mean time burnt a) out; the remaining
water in the cocoa-nutshell began to grow putrid; and
Robinson was become unable, to turn himself on his couch,
He thought, he perceived the approach of death, and the
joy he felt at it, strengthened him so much, that he was
able, to prepare himself for his journey with devotion,
He once more prayed humbly to God, that he might gra-
ciously pardon all his sins. Then he thanked him for all
the goodneſs, he had ever shown him - an unworthy !
He particularly thanked him, for all he had made him suffer
for his amendment; all which he, now more than ever,
perceived to have been for his good. Finally he prayed God,
w) to strike. a) to creep. a) to burn.
to
151
to comfort and blefs his offended but dearly beloved parents;
then he recommended his immortal soul to the eternal and
paternal love of his maker. Then he stretched himself
out, and expected death with joyful hopes.
Death seemed to approach with hasty strides. His agonies
encreased; his breast began to boil, and he breathed with
great difficulty. Now, now! the last and wished for mo-
ment seemed to appear! And agony, such as he had ne-
ver felt before, seized his heart, his respiration stopt n)
short; he fell into convulsions, his head dropt o) on his
shoulder, and all consciousnels of existence left him.
Here all were silent for some time and honoured the me-
mory of their friend, tho' they had never seen him, by sym-
pathy. Poor Robinson! sid some sighing; God be prais-
ed! said others, that he is now delivered from all his
sufferings! And thus the company parted that evening
more tranquil and pensive than ordinarily.
#) to stop. e) to drop..
N8
TWELFTH
TWELFTH EVENIN G.
,
What do you intend telling us now, dear Papa?" said
Charlotte, when they were again assembled under the apple.
tree: because they understood by the father's looks, that
he had some history prepared for them. (The whole com
pany had in the interim taken instructions in basket making,
in which work they were now employed).
"
Something relative to Robinson?" replied the father,
which made the company stare.
I
Charlotte. Why, I thought he was dead!
John. Silence, Charlotte, perhaps he has revived again;
don't you remember we supposed him dead once before and
nevertheleſs he was living.
Father. Robinson fell into convulsions, as I told a) you
last; his head sank on his shoulders and he lost b) all
consciousness of his existence. Whether he was in reality dead,
or only fallen c) into a swoon, was not yet decided.
He lay a good while in a state of entire insensibility. At
length who could have thought it! he recover'd
his senses.
All. Oh I am glad! I am very glad! that he is not
yet dead!
Father. With a deep sigh he began to breathe again, as
a) to tell. b) to lose. c) to fall.
usual.
153
usual. Then he open'd his eyes and look'd round him, as
if he would see, where he was:
where he was for in that moment he
really doubted, whether he had left his body, or not. At
last he convinced himself of the latter, and indeed, not
without being sensibly grieved, because death now seemed
more eligible to him than life.
He felt himself extremely weak, but without much pain.
Instead of a dry burning beat, which he had felt before,
a strong alleviating sweat ran down from all his limbs. That
he might not stop this, he cover'd himself with more skins,
and he had scarce been half an hour in this situation, when
he began, to feel a most sensible relief.
But he now had a most intolerable thirst. The water
he had left, was no more drinkable; at last he recollected
his lemons. With much ado he at last got one of them,
and suck'd out the juice, by which he was sensibly refresh.
ed. During this transpiration he fell into a sweet slumber,
which continued till sun.rise
His heart was now much more at rest, than the day be-
fore. The violence of his illness had visibly abated; and
now he felt nothing but weakncfs. He even perceived some
appetite again, and ate a) one of the roasted potatoes, on
which be squeezed some lemon juice, to make the taste of
it more refreshing.
The two foregoing days he had not troubled himself about
his lamas; but now it was a moving sight for him, to see
them lying at his feet, whilst some of them were staring
at him, as if they would ask him, if he was not something
better. These animals can pals many days without drink-
ing, as well as camels: otherwise it would have been bad
with them at present, because they had not had any thing
to drink for two days: and Robinson was yet too weak to
rise and fetch water for them,
a) to eat.
154
Now the old slie lama coming within his reach, he got
hold of her, and used all his efforts in drawing some
milk from her, that she might not lose it. This fresh milk
was certainly very wholesome for his sick body, for it res
freshed him surprisingly..
Now he again fell into a sleep, from which he did not
awake till sun-set, when he perceived his appetite to be
much greater, than it had been before. He therefore ate
some more potatoes with lemon-juice, and composed him:
self to sleep again.
This uninterrupted refreshing sleep and the goodrels ef
his constitution contributed so much to the recovery of his
strength, that he could rise again the next morning and
walk a few steps, tho' he was but weak and unsteady on
his legs.
He stagger'd out of his cave into his yard. Here he lifted
his eyes up to heaven; a kindly refreshing beam of the mor
ning sun shot a) thro' the trees on his countenance, and he
became as new born. O'thou eternal source of life! cried
he, falling on his knees; Godt my God! Accept of my
thanks for having let me once more see thy beautiful sun,
and in his light the wonders of thy creation! my thanks
for not having forsaken me in my distress; for having re-
called me once more into life, to grant me more time for
my amendment! grant, that I may employ every day of
my remaining life for that purpose, that I may at all times
be found ready, to go to the place of our eternal destina-
tion, where we shall receive the reward of our good and
bad actions!"'
and
After this short but hearty prayer, his eyes were delight-
ed with the sight of the vast blue vault of heaven,
with the trees and shrubs, that stood before him, adorned
a) to shoot.
with
155
with fresh verdure and pearled over with dew; then again
with his lamas, that came joyfully fondling about him. He
seemed as just returned home from a long journey; his
heart overwhelmed with joy.
The enjoyment of the fresh air, and the fresh water,
which he mixed with milk, and the tranquil serenity of his
mind contributed not a little to his entire recovery. His
strength returned in a few days and he again found himself
able, to return to his usual occupation.
what became of his
all his vessels were
His first business was, to examine,
pots. He open'd the oven, and lot
60 well glazed, as if they had been made by a potter. In
the height of his joy, he forgot; that he was now unable
to make any use of these fine things, because his fire was
out. At last when he recollected it, he stood quite deject
ed, first looking at his pots and pipkins, then again at
the fire hearth in his kitchen hearing a sigh.
•
But his grief did not exceed the bounds of moderation
this time. He thought, the same kind providence, who
lately gave him fire, could give it him again a second time
in the same or in another manner, whenever she pleased.
Now he knew moreover, that he had no winter to appre▾
herd here; and though he was from his youth accustomed
to eat meat: yet he hoped, he should be able, to do
without it and live only on fruits and the milk of his lamas.
Charlotte. Why he might have ate smoked meat; that
needs not be boiled first.
Father. That's true; but how could he smoke his meat?
Charlotte. Oh, I did not think of that.
Father. However he did not repent of having made the
pots for he could use them at least as milk (vessels. The
biggest of them he intended for a particular use.
John Well, and for what?
Fas
156
Father. He thought, his potatoes would take better, if
he could eat some butter with them.
Theophilus. I dare say
Father. But it was impossible for him, to make a
wooden churn. He would therefore try, whether he could
not make butter in a large pot. For this end he gathered
as much cream as he thought sufficient. Then he made a
small wooden trencher with a hole in the middle, in which
he fastened a stick. With this instrument be churned up
and down in his pot filled with cream, till the butter was
separated from the butter. milk; upon which he washed it
with water and mixed it with a little salt.
He had thus accomplished, what he intended; but when
he was going, to enjoy the fruits of his industry, be re
collected, that he could roast no more potatoes, because
he had no fire, which he had again forgot in the heat of
bis occupation. There was now the fine butter ready, which
could not be eaten, and Robinson stood by it with a
with a sor
rowful countenance,
Now he found himself at once in his
former dismal situation. Oysters, milk', cocoanuts and raw flesh
were again his only means of subsistance, and it was a ques
tion, whether he could always have them? The worst was, that
he knew no means to render his condition more comfortable.
What could he undertake now? All he could do with his
bare hands, was already done. He therefore seemed to
have nothing more to do, than to pass his life in sleep or
in idleness, the most terrible situation he could imagine,
For he was now so much accustomed to occupation, that
he could not live, without employing his time in some use-
ful business and he would say afterwards, that he owed
the amendment of his heart to the continual occupation he
was forced to by the helpless condition of his solitary abode.
Industry, he used to add, industry, good folks, is the
mother of many virtues; just as lazinefs is the beginning of
many vices !
+
John
157
John. Ah, there he was certainly right! when one has
nothing to do, one thinks of nothing but nonsense Į
Father. To be sure! he therefore avised young people
afterwards, by all means to accustom themselves to an ac-
tive life, from their very childhood. For, said he,
use ourselves when young, so we generally remain for life,
lazy or diligent, clever or ignorant, good or bad.
Nicholas. That we will observe!
as we
Father. Do so, good children, and act accordingly :
you will not repent of it. Our Robinson considered a long
while, what kind of work he should undertake, to pre
vent being idle; and what do you think, he resolved upon
at last?
John. I know, what I should have done.
Father, Well, what then?
John. I would have dressed the lamas skins, that I might
not be obliged, to wear them raw and rough, which must
be very inconvenient in such a hot climate.
Father. And how would you haye set about it?
John. Oh I know, how tanners do: we have seen it
Father. And how pray ?
John. They first steep the raw hides in water for some
days; then they carry them to the shaving.beam and clean
them with the shaving-knife, to get the water out of them
again. Then they salt the skins and cover them, that the
fresh air may not get to them. That they call sweating the
skins for in fact, they begin to sweat, as a man, who.
works hard. Then they take off the hairs with the shaving
knife. Then they put the skins in a liquor, made of bir◄
chen and oaken bark and leven. At last they put the skins:
into the tan-pit and pour a liquor over them,
made of oaken bark, in which they remain,
quite done.
that is also
till they are.
Father. Very well, John; but do you still recollect,
O
what
158
what kind of leather that is, which the tanners thus pre-
pare?
John. Yes, such as is used to make shoes, boots and
harneſs.
Father. A kind of leather, that needs not be so soft,
as that, which is used for making breeches, gloves and
the like,
John. No!
Father. And who prepares that?
John. The skinner; but that kind of work we have not
seen yet.
Father. Robinson was nearly in the same case; he had
never seen any tanners or skinners at their work; and there-
fore he could not imitate either of them.
Dick. And how is the skinners work performed?
Father. The beginning is the same as the tanners, but
their skins are not put in tan or lime (which the tanners
use), but in warm water, mixed with bran and leven and
afterwards in lie, made of ashes. We will shortly go and
see their work,
John. Suppose Robinson had known, how the skinners
dreſs their skins, he could not have imitated them, for want
of branior leven.
Father. Do you see? He therefore could not attempt it,
Nicholas. Well, and what did he then.
Father. Day and night his head was filled with schemes
of constructing a kind of small boat, if possible.
John. And what would he do with a boat?
Father. Do with it? try, if he could not get out of his
colitude, which, by the loss of his fire, was now again
become quite dismal to him, and to get again into the
company of his fellow creatures. He had reason to suppose,
that the continent of America was not far off, and he was
determined, if he had but a small boat, to brave all dans
gers and make the continent, if possible.
Full
159
Full of these thoughts he went t) out one day, to look
for a tree, which he might scoop out in the form of a small
boat. Passing with this intention thro' several parts of the
island, where he had not been hitherto, he discovered
divers kinds of plants, that were unknown to him, with
which he resolved to make different experiments, to find
whether they would not serve for his sustenance?
Among the rest he found some stalks of indian corn or
maize.
out,
Nicholas. Ah! of that, which I have in my garden?
Father. The same! He admired the large ears, every
one of which contain'd above two hundred large grains in
beautiful rows,
like corals. He did not in the least doubt,
but he might make some kind of food or even bread of it:
but how could he grind it? how could he separate the bran
from the flour? how could he make bread or any other
food of it, as he had no fire? Nevertheleſs he took some
ears along with him, to plant some grains of it. For, thought
he, who knows, but I may learn, to make some very good
use of it in time? He moreover discovered a fruit - tree,
the like of which he had never seen before. It had plenty
of large pods, and upon examining one of them, he found,
it contain'd at least sixty beans, the taste of which he did
not find very agreeable. However he put one of the ripe
pods in his bag.
John. What fruit might that be?
Father. It was cocoa, which the chocolate is made of,
:
Nicholas. Ah! now he may drink chocholate for the
future!
Father. Not yet a while! for in the first place he does
not know, what it is; and then the beans must first be
roasted at the fire, pounded and mixed with sugar; and
#) to go.
O
2
we
160
va.
we know, he has neither fire nor sugar; to which many
kinds of spices are generally added, as cardamomum,
nilla and cloves; and he had none of these spices. But
he might easily have done without these things, had he but
known, how to get fire again,
At last he found another very large fruit tree, which he
did not know either, the fruit of which was as large as a
cocoa-nut, and without any shell, consequently quite eata.
ble and of a very pleasant taste. The tree was of a quite
different species than a cocoa nut tree; it did not, like
this, consist only of a stem, terminating in a crown of lar
ge leaves; but it had branches and leaves as the fruit trees
with us. Afterwards he was informed, that it was what
they call bread - trees, because the fruit of it is eaten raw
as well as pounded and kneaded into dough, and among
the savages supplies the place of bread.
}
One side of the trunk of this large tree was grown a little
hollow with age. He therefore conceived the thought, that
it would serve him, to make a boat, if he could only
find means to hew it down and hollow it entirely.
But should he spoil so useful a tree, in the uncertainty
whether he should ever be able, to make a boat of it.
This thought terrified him, and he did not know, for a
good while, what to do. However he marked the spot,
where the tree stood and went home undetermined.
a
On his return he found what he had long wished for,
nest of young parrots, big enough to fly. How great was
his joy when he discovered them! But when he stept up,
to take the young ones, they all flew away, except one,
which he caught h). He was satisfied with having got one,
and hurried home with great joy
h) to catch.
Dick.
161
Dick. Of what great advantage could a parrot be to him
then?
very great to us,
hear men, who
Father. He intended to teach him to pronounce some
words, that he might have the pleasure of hearing a human
like vcice again. That pleasure does not indeed seem so
who live in human society, who see and
speak and converse with men every day,
as that, which Robinson promised himself by hearing the
chatter of his parrot. But if we put ourselves in his place,
we shall find that, what seems an insignificant trifle to us,
was in reality a great encrease of happineſs for him.
He therefore hasten'd joyfully home, constructed a cage,
as well as he could, put his new friend in it, placed it
near his couch and laid himself to rest.
THIR-
03
THIRTEENTH EVENING.
The
next evening the little friends were by order of the
father assembled earlier than usual, as he said he was
obliged to consult them before he could go on his narration-
What are we to consult about? cried the children crowding
round about him.
Father. About something, which puzzled Robinson's
brains the whole night, and did not permit him to close
bis eyes.
All. Well, what was it?
Father. The question was, whether he should cut down
the old bread tree, which he discovered yesterday, in the
uncertainty of making a boat of it, or whether he should
let it stand?
John. I should have spared it.
Dick. And I would have cut it down,
Father. There are two different opinions; one for having
the tree cut down, the other for letting it stand. Now let
us hear, what the rest will say?
Theophilus. I am of John's opinion.
Charlotte. I also, dear Papa! The tree shall remain.
Frederic. No, it shall be cut down, that poor Robinson
may get a boat.
Nicholas. I say so too
Father. Now divide yourselves in two parties; and then
we
163
we will hear, what grounds each has for his opinion.
So! Now, do you begin John; why shall the tree be
saved?
John. Why, because it bears fine fruit, and is perhaps
the only one in the whole island.
Dick. Oh, it is already old and won't bear fruit much
longer!
John. How do you know that? It is but a little hollow;
and how many hollow trees are there, that bear fruit
many years.
•
་
Nicholas. Robinson needs only graft a great many young
twigs of this tree: and he'll a) get bread trees enough.
Theophilus. Yes, but do they grow big directly? And
perhaps they will not bear for four years.
Frederic. And is not it better for him to get a boat, and
return among mankind, than to stay for ever in this island
eating bread-fruit ?
John. Yes, if the boat could be finished so soon! But
with what must he cut down the tree and scoop it?
a stone hatchet !
with
Dick. Oh, if he only persists for some time and does
not grow weary of it, he may at length bring it about.
Theophilus. But then he has no sail! And what can he
do with the bare boat?
Nicholas. He must make a shift with oars!
Charlotte. Ay, that will do finely! Have you forgotten
b), when we were near Travemunde on the Baltic, *)
when one of the sailors broke c) his oar, in what danger.
we were? Why Papa said, that, if the broken oar had
04
a) i. e. he will.`b) to forget. c) to break.
been
*) The little company had been favour'd with that promised plea-
sure some time ago.
16 j
been quite useless, the other sailor alone could not have
rowed us on shore again.
Dick. Oh, that was a large boat, and eighteen persons
in it. If Robinson makes a small boat with two oars, he
will be able to row it himself,
Father. Now, my children, you see the matter is not
so very easily determined. All you have now said, employed
Robinson's head the whole night; and that is called re-
flecting, when one is examining whether it would be better
to do a thing, or not to do it. Since Robinson had felt
the bitter consequences of his rash resolution of travelling
about the wide world, he had made it his constant rule,
Dever to do any thing again, without first having considered
the matter maturely; which he likewise did now. After have
ing reflected long enough on it, he found, that all de
pended on the following question: whether it was right,
to give up a small but certain advantage, for to acquire a
more considerable but at the same time uncertain advantage?
This reminded him of the fable of the dog, that dropt a)
the piece of meat, he had in his mouth, to snatch at the
shadow of it in the water, and so bad nothing. Soon after
he also recollected, that farmers sow out part of the corn,
which they already possefs, in hopes of getting much more
by that means. The proceeding of the dog every one will
call unreasonable, whereas the proceedings of the husband-
men will be deemed reasonable and wise: What may then
be the real difference?" said Robinson to himself.
»
He reflected on it a little while, and then he said to
himself: Yes, yes,
so it is! The dog acted unreaso-
nably, because be only follow'd his greedinefs, without
considering, whether it was possible for him to get, what
he wished for. But the husband man acts reasonably, be-
→
cause
a) to drop.
165
cause he may with great probability hope, to reap more
corn, than he has sown.'
"
T)
Now," said he, am I not in the same case? Is not
it probable, that with perseverance I shall at last succeed in
making a boat of the old tree? And if I do, may not I
hope then, to get away from this melancholy solitude?"
In that moment the thought of his deliverance seized his
soul with such vigour, that he jumped up directly, took
his hatchet, and ran b) to the tree, in order to begin that
great work.
But if he had ever undertaken a tiresome and tedious piece
of business, it was certainly this! A thousand in his place
would have dropt the matter after the first stroke or two,
and thought it an impossibility. But Robinson had made it
a rule, not to be deterred by any difficulty from any reaso-
ble undertaking; and therefore he continued steadfast in
his resolution for this time, tho' the execution of it should
cost him ever so much time and labour!
After having worked almost incessantly from sunrise till
about noon,
the hole which he had made in the tree, by
more than a thousand strokes, was not yet so big, that
he could put his hand in it. From thence you may con.
clude before hand, how much time it will require, to cut
down such a thick tree and make a boat of it.
He now saw, that it would be a work of more than one
year; and he thought it therefore necessary to make a pro-
per division of time, to have a certain occupation for every
hour of the day. For he had now learned by experience,
that in a busy life mothing advances and lightens our labour
more, than order and regular division of the hours. I will
give you an account, by which you may see, how he em
ploy'd every hour.
a) to sow. b) to run.
0 5
At
166
At day-break he got up, and ran to the spring, to wash
his head, hands, breast and feet. As he bad no towel,
he was forced to dry himself in the air, which he easily
did, by running as fast as he could back again to his
dwelling. Then he dressed himself entirely. That done,
he ascended the hill above his cave; where he had a free
prospect, there he kneeled down and said his morning
prayer with much devotion, never forgetting to beg God to
blefs his dear parents. Upon which he milked his lamas,
of which he had by degrees rear'd a small stock. Part of the
milk he placed in his cellar, and breakfasted on the resta
He employed about an hour in doing this. Then he took
all his accoutrements, and sallied forth either directly to
the tree,
or if it was low water, to the seashore, to
gather some oysters for his dinner. All his lamas generally
followed him, and grazed about him, whilst he was work.
ing at his tree.
Towards ten o'clock it was generally so warm, that he
was forced to leave off working. Then he returned to the
seashore, either to gather oysters, in case he had found
none in the morning, or to bathe himself, which he usu
ally did twice a day. Towards eleven he returned home
with his whole retinue.
Then he milked his lamas again; made cheese of the
sour milk and prepared his dinner, which most commonly
consisted of milk and fresh curds, some oysters and half a
cocoa- nut. It was very happy that people in these hot
countries have not half so much appetite as in colder cli-
mates. Nevertheless he greatly longed for some meat, and
at last he could not forbear trying his old way of beating the
to make it tender.
meat,
At dinner he amused himself with his parrot, and talk.
ed to him, in order to teach him, to pronounce some
words.
Fre
167
Frederic. And what did he feed him with?
Father. Wild parrots generally feed upon cocoa-nuts;
acorns and the seeds of pumpkins: when tame they eat
almost every thing, that men do. Robinson fed a) his with
cocoa- nuts and cheese.
After dinner he generally laid himself an hour in the shade
or in his cave, with his parrot and lamas about him. There
he used to sit some time and taik to his animals, just as
little children, who talk to their dolls, and imagine, the
dolls understand them. So much did his mind want to com-
municate his thoughts and sensations to some living being.
that he often forgot, he was speaking to brutes. And when
his parrot, which he called Poll, repeated some intelligi-
ble word after him: oh, who was happier than he! He
imagined, he heard a human voice; forgot his island, la-
mas, parrot and thought himself in the midst of Europe.
But this agreeable illusion generally lasted but a minute;
then he sat again entirely conscious of his deplorable so-
litary life, sighing; poor Robinson!
About two o'clock in the afternoon
Nicholas. Ay, but how did he know then, what oi
clock it was?
Father. He observed the very same clock, that is observ-
ed by the country people with us,
the sun,
and thence
he judged, what time of day it was.
About two o'clock in the afternoon he used to return to
his shipbuilder's work. In this very hard labour he again
employed two full hours. After that he went again to the
sea-shore, to bathe himself and to look for oysters. The
rest of the day he spent in all sorts of gardener's work.
Sometimes he planted maize or potatoes, in hopes of getting
fire some time or other, to make use of them; sometimes
he
1
6) to feed. b) to sit.
168
he grafted bread trees; then again he watered the young
grafted trees; sometimes he planted hedges to enclose his
garden ground; and at other times 'he pruned the hedge
to make the branches grow so as to form
a large bower in time.
before his cave,
To Robinson's grief the longest day in his island was but
thirteen hours, so that it began to grow dark about seven
o'clock in the evening. He was therefore compelled, to
do all the business, that required daylight, before that
time.
*
3
Towards six o'clock, when he had nothing else to do,
he passed some time in martial exercises..
**
Theophilus. What is the meaning of that?.
Father. He exercised himself in shooting with the bow,
in throwing the lance, that he might in case of need be
able to defend himself against the attaks of savages. He
acquired such dexterity by degrees in both these exercises,
that he seldom missed a mark no bigger than half a crown.;
In the dusk of the evening he milked his lamas for the
last time, and took his rural and frugal supper by the light
of the moon or the stars,
The last hour in the evening he employ'd in reflecting on
himself. Then he either ascended the hill, where the vault
of the sky adorned with innumerable stars was over him
or he walked in the cool of the evening towards the sea-
shore. Then he would propose the following questions to
himself:
,, How have I spent a) this day? Have I remember'd
the great giver of all things in the enjoyment of his gifts,
which he has most bountifully bestow'd on me this day?
Hás my heart felt any love and gratitude towards him? Have
I confided in him, when it went ill with me, and have (
#) to spend.
not
169
not forgotten him, when I was joyful? Have I
Have I supprest
every ill thought and every evil inclination as soon as they
arose in me? And have I made any real progreſs in good.
nels to day?"
Now every time he could answer these and the like ques
tions to himself with a joyful affirmation: oh, how happy he
was! And with what fervency did he then sing a hymn to
the praise of that bountiful God who granted him grace to
become good! But as often as he had reason not to be
quite satisfied with himself: oh, how sorry he was then for
having lost one day of his life! For he thought every day
lost, n) on which he had thought or done any thing, which
he was obliged to disapprove in the evening.. Now he mark-
ed every notch of such days on his calendar-tree with a
croſs, to put him in mind of his wrongs at the sight of it,
and to be the more upon his guard for the future.
Look, my dear children, thus, Robinson acted every day-
in order to grow better and more pious. Now if it be your
real earnest, to amend your hearts; I advise you to imi..
tate him in that point. Like him, fix an hour in the eve.
ning, to reflect on your conduct during the day; and if
you find, that you have thought, spoke, or done any
thing, what you can not approve of before God and your
own conscience, write it down in a small book, to put you
in mind of it from time to time, and to be for ever on your
guard against the commission of the same fault. Thus, like
him, you will daily grow better and consequently more sa-
tisfied and happier.
Now the father rose; and each of them betook himself
tó a particular walk in the garden, in order to put his good
advice in execution immediately.
to lose.
I
:
P
;
FOUR
:
!
FOURTEENTH EVENING.
Now, my children, continued the father the next eve
ning, our Robinson lived three whole years, one day
like the other in the same manner, as I have mentioned
to you last night. During this long period of time he con.
tinued his ship-builder's work with the utmost diligence;
and how forward do you think, he brought it?
Alas!
1
the tree was not yet half scoop'd out, and it still seem'd
very doubtful whether be should be able, with all his
industry, to finish the whole work in three or four years
more !
Notwithstanding he went thro' his work with patience; for
what could he do else? And he would not remain idle,
and could not be without doing something! One day the
thought struck him, that he had now lived so long in the
island, and yet he had seen but the least part of it. He
thought it was not right to be so long deterred by his timi-
dity from making a journey all over the island. Who knows,
what he might probably discover in other parts of it to his
future advantage!
This thought grew a) so strong in his mind, that he im
mediately determined, to begin his journey the next morn-
ing at break of day."
a) to grow.
Ni
1
171
Nicholas. And how extensive might his island be?
Father. About as large as the territories of Hambourgh,
the bailiwick of Rizzebuttel included, about four german miles
long and twelve in circumference,
re.
On the very same day he prepared every thing for his de-
parture, The next morning he loaded one of his lamas with
provisions for four days, took all his accoutrements,
commended himself to the divine protection, and set out
with confidence. His intention was to keep as near the sea-
shore as possible, because he did not yet like to venture
into thick woods for fear of wild beasts.
He met a) with nothing remarkable the first day of his
journey. He made about three german miles, and the fur
ther he proceeded, the more he was convinced, that he
had chosen b) his habitation in the worst part of the is
land. In many places he discovered fruit trees, the like of
which he had not seen before, and which he supposed
would afford him wholesome and palatable food. Afterwards
he learnt their names by the proper use of them. Among the
rest there was a papermulberry-tree, of the bark of which
the Japanese make very fine paper, and the inhabitants of
Otaheite make beautiful stuffs of it for summerclothing. I'll
shew you a sample-afterwards, which I have received from
England.
Robinson spent the night on a tree, for fear of wild
beasts, and at break of day he continued his journey.
He did not walk very long, till he reached the southern
extremity of the island. Here the soil was sandy in some
places. Whilst he was going to the furthest point of the
land, he stopt c) short in one place, as if he had been
thunderstruck; d) he grew as pale as ashes and his whole
frame trembled.
P 2
a) to meet. b) to chuse, c) to stop. d) to strike.
John.
172
John. Why so?
Father. He saw something, he did not expect to see;
the prints of several human feet in the sand.
Nicholas. And that terrified him so much? why, he
ought to be glad of that!
Father. The reason of his terror was this: in that mo-
ment be figured to himself the man, the prints of whose
feet he saw, not as a brotherly affectionate being, ready
to help and serve bim wherever he could: but as a cruel
hostile creature,
that would attack him with rage, that
would kill and devour him. In a word, he did not sup.
pose a civilized european at the sight of these prints, but
one of the savage Cannibals, who at that time, you know,
were said to inhabit the Caribbee islands.
1
Theophilus. Yes, I dare say; no wonder, he was so
terrified.
as to
Father. But it would have been wiser and better, if he
had been accustomed from his youth, not to be so much
frighten'd at any danger, no, not at the greatest,
lose presence of mind. And that, my dear children, we
can all compafs, if we do but betimes endeavour, to ac
quire strength of body and mind.
John. Ay, but how is that to be attained?
Father By hardening our body, dear John, as much as
possible by an industrious, temperate and natural way of
life, and by endeavouring, to raise cur minds above eve
ry vicissitude of fortune, by unpolluted virtue and piety,
and by arming ourselves before-hand against every misfor
tune. Thus if you learn, after our example, to be satis
fied with the moderate enjoyment of wholesome, and plain
victuals, and to despise the sweet poison of delicacies mo.
re and more; by shunning idleness as the corrupter of the
soul and body, and busying yourselves as much as possible
with occupations of the mind- by learning and reflecting
60-
173
sometimes and at other times by bodily work; if you
accustom yourselves of your own accord, to renounce
something or other, which you are very fond of, and
which you might have if you pleased, and if you will
resolve, to undergo something, which is very disagreeable
to you and your entire aversion, and which you were able,
to free yourselves from; if you will endeavour to do,
without the assistance of other men, as much as possible;
satisfy your own wants by the strength of your own body
and the power of
of your understanding, and extricate
yourselves from difficulties; in ne, if you endeavour du-
ring your whole life-time, to preserve that valuable trea-
sure, a good conscience, and by these means secure to
yourselves the approbation and Love of orr almighty, our
bountiful heavenly Father: then, my dear children,
will grow sound and strong, both in body aud soul; then
you will remain unconcerned in every vicissitude of fortune,
because you are then firmly convinced, that nothing can
Lappen to you, but what is sent a) you, for your good,
by our wise and mest bountiful God.
►
you
Qur Robinson, you see, was not yet come so far in that
firiness of mind, founded upon piety, as was requisite
to make him easy and happy. The cause of which was un-
doubtedly, his having, for some years past, led b) a life
free from all dangers and ill accidents. For, my children
observe this important truth! too much ease and sej
curity spoil man, render him effeminate and timorous and
generally vicious; and it is therefore a true blessing of God,
to send us from time to time some adversity, to put the
powers of our body and mind into activity and strengthen
our courage by exercise.
Robinson stood c), as I told you, struck with confu
P 3
a) to send. b) to lead. ) to stand.
sion,
174
sion, at the sight of these prints of human feet in the sand.
He looked fearfully arround him, listened with great anxie-
ty to the least rustling of the leaves, and, in his confu
sion, he did not know for a good while, what to resolve
upon. At last he summoned up all his strength, ran away
like one who is pursued, and had not even the courage to
look behind him. But all of a sudden something made him-
start, and changed his fears into horror and dismay.
He perceived
prepare yourselves, my children, for
the most shocking spectacle, and to see the horrible con-
dition, into which men may fall, who grow up without
any education and instruction, and are left to themselves
be perceived a space like a circle, in the midst of
which there had been a fire. My blood runs cold to tell it
you; there lay scattered about sculls, hands, feet and
other parts of human bodies, the flesh of which had been
gnawed off.
All. By whom?
Father. By men, but no, only by such creatures, as
have the mere shape of men, who, grown up stupid and
brutish, like wild beasts, had neither aversion nor huma-
nity, to detain them from butchering their brothers and
devouring their flesh. At that time (I have told a) it
you once before, if I be not mistaken,) the Caribbee islands
were inhabited by savages, called Caribbees, cannibals, or
meneaters, because they had the horrible custom of killing
all those of their enemies, whom they took prisoners in
to roast, and afterwards devour them with great avi-
dity in singing and dancing.
war,
Charlotte. Fie! what detestable creatures!
Father. Their inhuman manners, my dear Charlotte, we
will detest, but not the poor people themselves, who can-
a) to tell.
not
175
not help their not being properly instructed and educated.
Had you been so unfortunate, as to have been born among
such savages:
you would certainly rove about the woods
like them and be as naked, wild and unreasonably, as they
are; you would bedaub your face and body with red paint;
you would have holes pierced thro' your ears and nose; you
would not be a little proud, to wear feathers, cockle shells
and other trinkets in them, and you would with as much
pleasure share in the feasts of your savage parents and coun
try men, as you now do in our better meals, Rejoice
therefore, my dear children, and thank God, that you
are born of civilized, humane parents, with whom it is
easy for you, to become civilized, sensible and humane
and pity the fate of our fellow - creatures who live in the
unhappy state of savage brutality!
Frederic. Are there any such people to be found still?
John. Far, very far from here, Frederic, in an island
called New Zealand! Papa read something of it to us, last
winter, from the history of voyages. There the natives are
said, to be still so savage and barbarous, as to eat humán
flesh. But the English who have discovered that island, will
know, how to civilize them.
Frederic. That will be well done!
Father. Let us now return to our Robinson. He turned
away his face from this loathsome spectacle, he grew sick,
and would have fainted, if nature had not been eased by
his vomiting very copiously.
As soon as he had somewhat recovered himself, he ran
away with the utmost precipitation. His faithful lama could
scarcely follow him. Nevertheleſs it did. But fear had so
much confused our poor Robinson's understanding, that in
his flight he forgot the beast that followed him, whose steps
he mistook a) for those of some Cannibal pursuing him, and
P 4
in
a) to mistake.
176
in the great anxiety of his mind, exerted all his strength in
order, to escape him. This was not enough; even his ac-
coutrements, his lance, his bow and his stone hatchet,
which he ought to have esteemed above all things, all this
he flung b) away, because they impeded him in his flight.
In all this be so little minded his way, that he sometimes
turned one way and sometimes another, and thus not know.
ing where he was, he ran about in a perfect circle, and
after about an hour's running he found himself at the same
dreadful spot, whence he had set out.
This was a new cause of terror and perplexity; for he did
not perceive, that this was the very place, which he had
seen before, but thought, it was another monument of
the inhuman barbarity of those, he fled c) from. Thus he
ran away as swift as his legs could carry him, and did not
cease running, till he dropped down, quite spent and faint
with fatigue.
Whilst he was lying in this manner, quite senseless, his
lama returned to him and lay down at his feet. Now this.
happened, to be the very same place, where he had flung
d) away his accoutrements. Upon opening his eyes some.
time after, he found all his things lying on the grafs by him.
This and all what happened to him before, seemed a dream
to him; he did not know where he was himself, nor how
all these things came here; for fear had quite deprived him.
of the use of his senses!
He got up again; but the vehemence of his passion
having in th mean time subsided, he was more careful to
preserve his accoutrements; the only means of defence, he
had now in his possession, and took them along with him
But he found himself so infeebled, that it was impossible
for bim to continue running as fast as he had done e) be
b) to Aing. c) to fly. d) to fing. e) to do,
fore,
177
fore, though his fear urged him on as much as ever. He
felt no bunger the whole day, and only once he took time
to quench his thirst at a spring.
He hoped to reach his habitation; but that was impos-
sible. At night-fall be found himself more than half an hour's
walk from his dwelling, at a place, which he used to call
his summer place, which consisted of a bower and a pretty
large inclosure, where he kept f) part of his flock, be-
cause the graſs was much better there, than near his habi
tation. He had for some years spent several nights at this
place during the summer season; because there were few-
er moschitos; and for that reason he called his arbour by
that name.
His strength was quite exhausted, and it was impossible
for him to go any farther, however dangerous it might ap.
pear to him, to sleep in an open bower. He therefore de-
termined, to stay there. But he had scarce laid himself
down on the ground, quite weary and possessed with the
wildest ideas more dreaming, than awake: when he was
again so much frightened, that it had almost killed him,
John. Heaven help us! What must he suffer!
Nicholas. Pray, what was it?
Father. He heard a voice as from heaven, calling to him
quite distinctly: Robinson poor Robinson, where
have you been? how came you hither?
Theophilus. Blefs me! What could that be?
Father, Robinson started up in the utmost confusion
trembling like an aspen leaf and not knowing, whether he
should stay or run away. In the same moment he heard the
same words over again, and looking towards the place.
whence the voice proceeded, he saw
All. Ah, who can know that!
X
what do you think?
f) to keep.
P 5
Fa-
178
Father. He saw, what the fearful would generally
find, if they would only take time to examine things,
that he had no reason at all to be frightened. For the voice
came not from heaven, but from a branch of his arbour,
upon which his dear parrot was sitting.
All. Ah!
Father. Time had probably seemed long to him at home,
and as he had sometimes accompanied his master to his
arbour, he came hither to look for him. But Robinson had
taught g) him these words, which he pronounced several
times, and he had retained them.
How happy was Robinson, to have discovered the cause
of this new terror! He reached out his hand, calling, Poll!
and the familiar merry thing presently came h) down perch.
ed upon his thumb, laid his bill close to his cheek,
continued to chatter: Robinson, poor Robinson, where
have you been?
and
Robinson could scarce close his eyes during the whole
night for fear and apprehension. He formed nothing but the
most dismal imagination. His fancy always presented to him
that dreadful place, which he had seen, and in vain did
he endeavour to banish it from his imagination. Oh, what
foolish and pernicious resolutions does a man take, when
his passions have once obscured his understanding! Robinson
resolved in his mind a thousand schemes for his safety, of
which one was still more extravagant than the other. Among
the rest would you believe it? be resolved to destroy
every thing, he had hitherto made with so much labour
and fatigue, as soon as day-light should appear. He in-
tended, to cut down the arbour, he now lay in; then the
inclosure before it, and let his lamas run,
where they
pleased. Then he would also demolish his habitation,
g) to teach, h) to come.
and
the
179
the fine wall, he had made before it. Finally he would also
dig up his gardens and plantations, so that not the least
mark of any human contrivance should remain in the whole
island.
John. Why would he do so?
Father. That the savages, if ever they should come in
that part of the island, should not be able to perceive,
that any human creature lived there.
Now we will leave him to his uneasy thoughts, because
we are unable to help him; and while we lay down on
our secure beds, we will offer our joyful thanks to that
bountiful God, who suffered us to be born in a country,
where we live among civilized people, who love and help
us, and where we have nothing to fear from savage monsters.
All. Good night, Papa! Thank you for your interest-
ing story!
EIET.
FIFTEENTH EVENIN G.
(The Father proceeds)
My children, it is a true proverb: Advise with your pil-
low. That we may see by Robinson's example.
•
You know, what foolish resolutions his inmoderate fear
suggested him yesterday. It was well for him, that he was
obliged, to postpone the execution of it till the next day;
for the wellcome light of day had scarce dispersed the
gloomy shades of night, when he began to consider things
in a very different point of view. What he thought good,
wise and necessary the day before, now appeared to him
bad, foolish and unnecessary. In a word, he rejected all
those rash schemes, which fear had made him project and
took others that were approved of by reason.
His example, my dear children, may serve warn
you, never to execute any hasty resolutions especially in
things, that may be deferred, but rather leave it to the
following day, if possible.
"9
Robinson now found, that his fear had been extravagant
the day before. I have been here so long already, thought
he to himself, and no savage ever came in that part, where
my habitation is. A sufficient proof, that there are none
in the island. In all probability some of them only come
ever
18r
over here at times from other islands, to celebrate their
victories, and keep their inhuman festivals; and then they
always land at the southern point of the island and leave it
again without looking any further about them. It is there.
fore again a new and evident proof of the kindneſs of divine
providence, that I was thrown a) in this barren part of the
island, which is the securest. Why then should I not rely
on God, that he will further protect me from danger, as
his wise and kind providence for me has been hitherto so
visible."
for
Now he reproached himself in the bitterest manner,
having placed so little confidence in God in his extravagant
fear the day before; he fell with repentance on his knees,
begged pardon for this new transgression, and humbly re
signed himself to the infinitely wise and good providence of
God. Thus newly strengthened, he bent his way to his
habitation, to do, what he had now resolved upon,
John. And what would he do now?
Father. He would only make some dispositions for
his greater safety; and in this he acted very reasonably.
For, tho' we must trust in God's providence, convinced
that he will not forsake us in necessity, if we endeavour to
his hy will, yet we must neglect nothing on our side, that
may contribute to our safety and happineſs. For God Al-
migy has given us our understanding and all the powers
of our soul and body, for the procuration of our happineſs.
The first thing he did, was to plant a thick wood at
some distance about the wall, that surrounded his habitas
tion, to hinder his castle from being seen at a distance.
For this purpose he planted by degrees near two thousand
etiks of some kind of willows, the easy and quick growth
of which, he had already experienced. These he did not
Q
plant
#) to throw.
182
plant in rows, but in an irregular manner on purpose, so
nanner`on
that the whole seemed to be a natural wood, and not made
by the hands of man.
Next he resolved to make a subterraneous passage from
his cave to the other side of the hill, that in case of need,
if his castle should happen to be taken by enemies, he might
have a means, to save himself. This was again a trouble.
some and tedious attempt, and you may easily think, that
his ship building was now for some time neglected.
In making this passage under ground, he proceeded in the
Game manner, as miners do in the mines.
Theophilus. Pray, how is that?
:
John. Have you forgot it? First they dig straight down.
wards, as if they were digging a well; and then they dig
side-ways,
and then again downwards, and then again
side - ways,
till they come to such places, where they find
any ore.
Father. That's well explained! Now observe when they
dig sideways (which is called horizontally), the earth
would fall down on their heads, if they did not prop it.
Thus they fix it with posts and croſs beams, and our Ro-
binson worked in the same manner,
All the earth, he dug out of this passage, he threw by
so that it at last became a rampalight
against his wall,
foot thick and ten foot high. He left small openings in se-
veral parts of it, like embrasures to look thro'. At the
same time he cut out some steps in it, for the conveniency
of going up and down and to defend his castle, if neces
sary, from the top of the rampart.
,
Now he seemed to be sufficiently secured against any sud-
den
b) to throw.
183
den attack. But, if the enemies should take it in their
heads, to besiege him in due form? how then?
This case seemed not impossible; he thought it there
fore necessary, to provide for that too, that he might not
be reduced by hunger and thirst, to surrender. For this
purpose he resolved, to keep at least one milk - lama in
his yard, and to have always a hay rick in reserve for his
food, which he would not touch, but in case of need;
to keep so much cheese as it was possible for him to spare
and finally, to lay up a provision of fruits and oysters
one day to another, and keep them as long as he
from
could.
£
He was forced, to give over another plan, because he
foresaw ), it would cost him too much time, which was,
to lead thro' his yard, a small rivulet proceeding from a
spring, not far from his habitation, in order to be pro-
vided with water in case of a siege. But then he had a
considerable eminence to cut thro', which, by only one pair
of hands, could not be done without a great deal of time.
He thought proper therefore, to drop this project and re.
turn to his shipwright's work.
Thus some years rolled over again, in which there hap
per'd nothing remarkable. I hasten therefore to one of the
most important accidents, which had a greater influence on
the fate of our good friend, than any thing, that had his
therte happened to him in his island.
When Robinson was busy working at his boat on a fine
warm morning, he unexpectedly perceived a great smoke,
rising at a distance. His first sensation at this sight was
terror, the second curiosity, and both together urged him
to run as fast as he could to the hill behind his castle,
to see from there, what might be the cause of it. He had
Q 3
on,
scar.
c) to foresee.
184
scarce ascended the hill. when to his greatest astonishment
he discovered fiye canoes or small boats, and at least thirty
savages about a large fire capering and dancing about the
Dames with barbarous gestures and marks of joy.
Tho' Robinson was very well prepared for such a specta
cle, yet he was again near losing his senses for fear and
terror; but this time he recalled his courage and confidence
in God sooner, than before; he ran down the hill in all
haste, to put himself in a posture of defence, he seized
his accoutrements, and committing himself to God's proteca.
tion, took the manly resolution, to defend his life till his
last breath. He had scarce taken this resolution, and streng
then'd his mind by a short prayer, when his heart became
so easy, that he felt courage enough, to ascend to the
top by his rope ladder, in order to observe the enemy's
motions.
But how did his heart palpitate with indignation and hor.
ror, when he saw them pretty distinctly dragging two poor
wretches from the boats towards the fire! He doubted not,
but they would be inhumanly butcher'd, and in the same
moment his suspicions were confirmed in the most shocking
manner. Some of those monsters knocked down the_pri•
soner, and some others got hold of him, probably to open
his body and prepare it for their abominable feast. At the
same time another prisoner stood by as spectator, till it
should come to his tura. But this poor wretch perceiving
them all busy about his murdered comrade, and not very
mindful of him, he suddenly started away from them, and
ran with incredible swiftneſs towards Robinson's habitation.
Joy, hope, fear and horror now at once got possession
of our hero's heart, and first made his cheeks glow like
scarlet and then as pale as death; joy and hope prevailed.
in his heart, because he perceived, that the fugitive could
outrun
1
185
be.
outrun his pursuers; fear and horror on the contrary,
cause the fugitive and his pursuers came running directly
towards his castle. However there was a small creek between
which the unfortunare fugitive would be obliged to cross, if
lie would not be taken. But he had scarce reached it, when,
without hesitation he immediately plunged into the flood,
and with the same swiftneſs, he had shewn d) in run-
ning, swam to the opposite shore.
Two of his foremost pursuers plunged in after him, the
rest returned to their abominable feast. With inward satis-
faction Robinson beheld e), that these two could by no
means match the former in swimming, who was already
running towards his habitation, whilst the others had scarce
half crossed the creek.
At this moment Robinson felt himself animated with more
courage, than be had ever before experienced. Fire flashed
from his eyes; his heart urged him to assist the poor
wretch; he seized his lance, and without hesitating one
moment, down he ran the hill and was in a thrice between
the fugitive and his pursuers. Stop! he cried to the for
mer with a loud thundering voice, jumping forward from
among the bushes; stop! The poor fugitive looked be
hind him, and was so terrified at the sight of Robinson
who was quite covered with skins, that he did not know,
whether he should fall down before him, or run away.
Robinson beckon'd to him with his hand, gave him to
understand, that he was come to protect him,
and was
at the same time advancing towards his pursuers. He was
now come so near, that he could reach the foremost with
bis lance. He summon'd up his courage, and gave him
such a thrust in his naked body, that he fell down to the
ground. The other, who was about a hundred paces be
Q 3
hind
to shew.) to behold.
186
hind, stopt f) short; took his bow from his back and
having fixed an arrow to it, shot at Robinson, whilst he
was advancing towards him. The arrow hit directly that
part of his body, where the heart is lodged, but it had
luckily so little force, as if it had been against an armour,
without doing him the least harm.
Our courageous combatant did not give the enemy time,
to shoot a second arrow; he ran up to him, and laid him
sprawling in the sand, whilst he was again bending his
bow. And now he turned towards him, whom he had
rescued.
The fugitive stood between hope and fear on the same
spot, where Robinson had called to him, not knowing,
whether all this was for his deliverance, or whether it would
be his turn next. The victor halloed to him again and beck.
on'd him to approach. He obey'd; but soon stopt again.
then he drew g) a little nearer, and then again he stopt
with visible marks of terror and in the posture of a suppli
cant. Robinson gave him all possible marks of his friendly
intention, and again beckon'd him to come near. He did.
so; but kneeled down at every ten or twelve steps with
gestures of the greatest humility, as if he would thank him
and do him homage at the same time.
Hereupon Robinson threw off his mask and shewed him
a human and friendly face; upon which the savage approa
ched without any hesitation, kneeled down before him,
kissed the ground, laid himself flat down, and set Robin-
son's foot on his head, probably as an assurance, that he
would be his slave. But our hero, who stood in need more
of a friend than a slave, lifted him up very kindly and
'endeavour'd to convince him by all possible means, that he
had nothing but kindness to expect from him. But there was
still more to be done,
f) to draw.
"
One
187
One of the savages, who in all probability ws
probability was not mor•
tally wounded, and had only got a wound in his belly,
began to come to himself pulled up some grats and stuffed
it in his wound, in order to stop the blood. Robinson
made his savage attentive to this and he answered him some
words in his own tongue which tho' he could not under.
stand, yet founded like musik in his ears, because it was.
the first human voice, he heard after so many years. Upon
which the Indian pointed to his batchet, then to himself,
and gave him to understand, that he wished to have it,
in order to dispatch his enemy with it. Our hero, who
was loath to shed human blood, and yet sensible of the
necessity of killing the wounded savage, gave his vassal the
hatchet, and turned aside. He took it, and away he rau
to the wounded savage, and at one blow cleft h) his scull
down to the very shoulders. When the exploit was done
he returned smiling, and with many very odd gestures laid
the scull of the slain, as a trophy, at his feet.
Robinson gave
him to understand by signs, to take the
bow and arrows from the dead man and follow him. But
the savage made him comprehend, that he would first bury
the dead carcafs in the sand, that his comrades, in case
they came to look for him, might not find him. Robinson
having signified that he approved his precaution, the savage
was so nimble with his hands, that in lefs, than a quarter
of an hour both dead bodies were buried. Upon which
they both went towards Robinson's habitation and got up
the hill.
Charlotte, But, Papa, now Robinson was become.
murderer.
Frederic. Why, he had only killed savages; what did
that signify?
A) to cleave.
QA
Chars
188
Charlotte. But neverthelefs they were men!
Father. To be sure they were, Frederic, and either
Bavage or civilized is nothing to the purpose. The question
is only whether he had a right to kill the poor wretch?
what do you think of it, John?
John. I think, he was in the right
Father. Why so?
John. Because they were such monsters, and would
otherwise have killed the other poor fellow who probably
had done them no harm.
Father. But how could Robinson know that? Perhaps
he deserved death? Perhaps those, that pursued him,
were officers of justice, who had orders from their supe.
rior, to do so? And then, who had made Robinson jud.
ge over them?
Nicholas. Ay, but if he had not killed them, they
would perhaps have seen his castle, and then they would
have told the rest of it.
Theophilus. And they would all have come and killed
Robinson himself.
Frederic. And devour'd him afterwards!
Father. Now you have hit the matter :
he was forced,
to do it for his own security, very right? But has one a
right to kill another, to save one's own life?
All. Oh yes!
Father. Why?
John. Because it is God's will, that we preserve our
lives, as long as we possibly can. If therefore any one
will kill us, it must be right, to kill him first, to prevent
his killing us.
Father. To be sure, my dear children
my dear children, such self - de
fence is allowable by divine and human laws, but
serve me well! in that case only when there is no
ob.
other
Tee
189
remedy, to save ourselves. Whereas if we have an oppor
tunity to escape,
or to be protected by others, or to dis.
able our pursuers from hurting us: any attempt upon his
life is real murder, and is punish'd as such by the law.
Do not forget, to thank God, my dear children, that
we live in a country, in which our superiors have made
such good dispositions for our security, that scarce one man
in a thousand can ever come to the melancholy necessity
of fighting for his self-preservation.
This is sufficient for to day.
Q 5
SIX.
SIXTEENTH EVENING.
After the meeting of the company the following evening,
and the usual exclamation,, ah, of Robinson! of Robinson!"
having past from mouth to mouth, the Father proceeded
with his narration in the following manner:
H
My dear children, our Robinson's fate, which we all
have so much at heart, is as yet undecided. He clamber'd
up the hill behind his habitation, as I told you before, with
the savage,
whose life he had preserved and there we left
him yesterday, incertain what would become of them? His
situation was still very dangerous! For what could in all
probability be expected, but that the savages, as soon as
their horrible feast was ended, would follow their two com-
rades and look for their deserted prisoner? And if they did
so, how much was it not to be feared but they would die.
cover Robinson's habitation, take it by storm, and kill him
and his vassal at the same time?
!
Robinson shuddered at this thought, as he stood on the
top of the hill behind a tree, contemplating the abomina-
ble expressions of joy and the dances of these savage mon-
aters at a distance. He deliberated hastily, whether he had
best flee, or return to his castle? One thought of God,
the protector of innocence. gave him strength and courage
to chuse the latter. He therefore crept, a) on his hands
and
a) to creep.
IgE
and feet to avoid being seen, behind some low bushes
towards his rope- ladder, and ordered his companion by
signs, to do the same. And thus they both got down.
Here the savage stared, to see the convenient and regu•
lar disposition of his deliverer's habitation, because be had
never seen any thing so handsome in his life. He was near-
ly in the same frame of mind, as a country man, who hav
ing never been away from his village, sees a palace for
the first time.
Robinson gave him to understand by signs, what he ap
prehended for them both from his barbarous country men,
and signified to him his resolution of defending his life to
the last drop of his blood. The savage understood him,
made a dreadful face, brandished the hatchet, which he
had still in his hands, several times over his head, and
then turned with a threatening countenance to that side,
where he saw his enemies, as if challenging them to sight,
and by all this he gave his protector to understand, that
he did not want courage, to defend himself bravely. Ro-
binson praised his valour, gave him a bow and one of his
lances, (of which he had made several by degrees) and
placed him as a centinel at a little hole, which he had left
on purpose in his wall, and thro' which one could over
look the space between the wall and the wood which he
had planted. He placed himself fully accoutred at the other
side of the wall, where he had likewise left an opening for
the same purpose.
:
They had remained almost an hour in this manner, when
they were suddenly alarmed by the confused noise of many
voices, but at a pretty great distance. They both prepared
for battle, and encouraged each other by signs. The noise
ceased; then they heard similar cries and something near◄
er too, upon which a dreadful silence ensued again.
Now
Char
192
Charlotte. Oh Papa, I shall run away', if they come!.
Frederic. Fie! who whould be such a coward!
Theophilu;. Let them alone, Charlotte! Robinson will
fight them; I am not at all afraid of that.
Charlotte, Well, you'll see, they will certainly mure
der him.
John. Oh, be quiet!
Father. Now they beard a single coarse voice, bellow
ing hideously in the wood which was repeated by the echo
of the hill. Our champions stood prepared; their bows
were already bent, to send an arrow to the heart of the
first, that should make his appearance. Their eyes sparkled
with valiant expectation, and were continually fixed on that
part of the wood, from whence the voice had proceeded
Here the father broke a) off abruptly and the children
were all silent full of expectation. But nothing ensued. At
last they all asked him as with one voice: why he did not
continue? and the father answered:
"
To afford you another opportunity, by which you may
moderate your desires! You are all probably very anxious
to know the result of that dreadful battle, which seems to
await our Robinson; and I am also ready, to tell it you,
if you desire it. But how? if you gave it up of your own
accord? if you suppressed your curiosity and deferred the
gratification of it till to morrow? However you are at per
fect liberty, speak: will you? or will you not?”
We will! we will! was the general reply, and thus
the continuation of the story was adjourned till the next
evening *
a) to break.
In
*) But our young readers must know, that these children had since
some time been much exercised in this way of self- denial and
that it was not in the least hard for them, to give up their deas
193
In the interim every one continued his usual work, and
they held a) an instructive conversation, untill the beating
of the drum for supper. Some made baskets, other laces,
and others again made plans for a little fortification, that
was shortly to be constructed in the great yard; and the
following evening the father continued his narration, where
he bad broken b) off.
Robinson and his gallant vassal remained in that warlike
posture, in which we left them yesterday, without seeing
or hearing any thing further. At last they both conjectured;
that the savages had given up their fruitless search, and re-
turned home in their carroes. They therefore laid down their
arms, and Robinson went to fetch some of his provisiona
for supper.
As this remarkable day, which is so particularly distin
guished in the history of our friend, was a friday, he re-
solved to give that name to the savage, he had saved
and therefore called him Friday.
Robinson had now time, to consider him a little nearer,
He was a very comely handsome young fellow, well made,
and about twenty years of age. His skin was of a bright
dun olive colour; his hair was black, but not curled like
wool as that of the blacks is; his nose small but not flat;
his lips were thin, and his teeth well set and white as a
driven snow. In both his ears he wore cockle - shells and
feathers, of which he seemed not to be a little proud. As
to the rest he was naked from head to foot.
One of our Robinson's principal virtues was bashfulneſs.
Nothwithstanding he was very hungry, yet he took time
first, to cut an apron for his naked companion out of an
a)
a to hold. b) to break.
R
old
rest pleasures with a smiling countenance; and they will do well,
to imitate these children, who find it very good for them.
194
old skin, and to tie it about him with some pack. thread.
Then he made him sit down by him and eat his supper.
Friday (for so we will call him for the future) drew c) near
with all possible marks of respect and gratitude, then kneel
ed down before him, laid his head on the ground and pla
ced his deliverer's foot upon it, as he had done the first
time, in short, he made all the antic gestures imaginable
to exprefs his thankfulneſs to him for his deliverance.
Robinson's heart, which could scarce contain the joy at
his having now got this long wished for companion and
friend, was ready, to melt within him and to overflow in
caresses and tender embraces : but the thought, that for
his own security he would be obliged, to keep his new
guest, whose character he did not yet know, for some ti
mé, in the bounds of respect and subjection, made him
accept of his homage, as something due to him, and act
the sovereign for some time. He made him therefore under
stand by signs and gestures, that he had indeed taken him
under his protection, but on condition of the strictest obe
dience; that he must therefore consent to do or not to do,
whatever he, his Lord and King, should think proper to
order or forbid him. In making him sensible of this, he
employed the word Catcheek, a name, by which the Ame
ricans call their superiors, which he luckily remember'd to
have heard once.
This word made Friday understand the meaning of his
master, more than all the signs with which he accompanied
it, and he expressed his satisfaction by repeating the word
Catcheek several times with a loud voice, and by prostrating
himself again at his feet. Nay, to convince him, that he
knew very well, what royal authority was, he took hold
of the lance, put it into his master's hands, and placed
to draw.
the
195
ד
the point of it on his breast, probably to indicate, that his
master had the power of life and death over him. Hereupon
Robinson kindly reached him his hand with the dignity of
a monarch as a sign of his royal favour, and order'd him
again, to sit down and take his supper with him. Friday
obey'd, but in such a manner, that he lay at his feet on
the ground, whilst Robinson was sitting on a bank of sods.
Look my children, the first kings in the world took their
origin in this and the like manner. They were men,
who
excelled others in wisdom courage and bodily strength.
Therefore they came to them and begged their protection
against wild beasts, which were anciently more numerous,
than at present, and against such people as wrong'd them.
In retourn they promised to obey them in every thing
and to give them every year something of their flocks and
fruit, that they might not be under nécessity of getting their
own livelihood, but employ themselves solely with the care
of their subjects. This annual gift, which the subjects pro
mised to their king, was called a tribute, or annual taxes.
Thus arose dy royal authority and the duty of obedience
and submission to one man or more, under whose protec-
tron we live.
į
Robinson was now a real king, only that his dominion
reached nò further, than over a single subject, some lamas
and the parrot. However his majesty was pleased to treat
his vassal with as much condescension as his dignity
would allow.
Frederic. Pray, what is a vassal?
>
Father. It is the same as a subject, dear Frederic.
After supper his majesty was graciously pleased to give his
orders for the disposition of the night. He thought it pro
per, not to let his subject who was now at the same
R 2
time
d) to arise,
196
time his first minister of state and bis valet de chambre,
his general and his army, his groom of the bed chamber,
high steward of his houshold etc. - sleep in his own cave
as yet, but in his cellar, because he had some scruples
to trust his life and the secret of the passage under ground
out of his cave to a novice, whose fidelity he had not yet
tried, and of which he could consequently have no proofs.
Friday was therefore ordered to carry some hay into the
cellar, and to make a bed for himself, whilst his majesty
for his greater security carried all the arms into his own
bedchamber.
Then he was pleased to give an example of condescension
and meekneſs in the presence of his whole empire, which
is perhaps the only one of its kind. You would be asto-
nished at it, and think it incredible, if I could not assure
you, that it is in plain words written e) in the annals of
our Robinson's reign, and by which it has long since been
made known to all the world: Robinson, the monarch
the absolute king and governor of the whole island, the sole
arbiter of life and death of all his subjects, performed in
the presence of Friday the office of a dairy maid, and with
his own royal hands milked the lamas in his yard, to shew
his first minister, to whom he had resolved to commit this
businefs, how to do it for the future!
Here the father stopt, to give time for the general laugh
ter, which this comical circumstance had occasion'd. After
which he continued as follows:
Friday did not yet comprehend what his master
:
•
was
doing for neither he nor his country men had ever ima
gined, that the milk of animals was a nourishing and whole.
some food. He had never drunk any milk, and he was
there.
e) to write.
197
therefore quite charm'd with the agreeable taste of it, when
Robinson gave him some.
After what they both had suffered this day, they longed
for sleep and rest. Robinson therefore order'd his vassal to
go to bed; and he did the same. But before he went to
rest, he did not forget to offer his prayers to God, for havs
ing turned from him the dangers of the day, and for hav;
ing sent him a human creature to assist him.
SE
R 3
SEVENTEENTH EVENING.
John. Now I am curious to know, what Robinson will
do in company with his Friday!
Dick. Oh, now he will be able to perform many things
more than before, because he has an assistant!
Father. You will ever more perceive, my children, what
great advantages man derives from society, and how much
reason we have to thank God, for having implanted in
us such a strong inclination for conversation and friendship
with other men!
The first thing Robinson did the next morning with Friday
was to go to the place, where the savages had kept f) their
victorious feast the day before. In their way thither they
passed by the place, where the two savages, whom Ro.
binson had slain g), lay enterred. Friday pointed to the
place, and gave his master pretty plainly to understand,
that he had good mind to dig up the dead bodies, and
devour them. Robinson made a dreadful face, expressing
indignation and abhorrence, lifted up his lance with threat-
euing aspect, and gave him to understand, that he would
immediately kill him, if he should offer to eat human flesh
again. Friday comprehended his master's threats and sub-
mitted obediently to his will, though he could not con.
f) to keep. g) to slay,
ceive,
199
ceive, what reason could induce him, to deny him such a
pleasure, because he had no idea at all, that it was loathsome.
Now they arrived at the place, where the fire had been,
That was a sight! Here lay several human bones, there
several pieces of mangled flesh, half eaten,、
and in several
places the ground was stained with blood. Robinson was
obliged to turn his eyes from it. He ordered Friday to
gather them all in a heap, then dig a hole in the ground
and bury the horrid remains of the inhumanity of his coun
trymen; and Friday obey'd.
Robinson examined the ashes in the mean time, to see,
whether he could not find a spark of fire, but in vain! It
was entirely extinguished. That was indeed very afflicting
for him; for after Heaven had granted him a companion,
he had for the present nothing left to wish, but fire. Whilst
he stood there quite dejected and considering the dead ashes
with melancholy looks, Friday, after having considered him
for some time with attention, made him some incomprehen.
sible signs, then seizing the hatchet, he ran like lighten
ing into the wood, and left Robinson, who, not know.
ing his design, was quite petrified at his sudden flight.
1 ..
What can be the meaning of this?" thought he to
himself, looking earnestly after him.
Could the ungrate
ful wretch forsake me, and even deprive me of my hatchet?
could he be cruel enough, to take possession of my habi•
tation and exclude me from it by violence, or even betray
me to his inhuman countrymen? abominable! abomi-
yable!" he cried, and seized his lance, fired with indig.
nation at such an unheard instance of ingratitude, and was
going to pursue the traitor, to prevent him from executing
his dark design,
He had already begun h) his pursuit with hasty steps,
R 4
when
h) to begin.
300
when he suddenly saw Friday returning in full speed. Robins
son stood i), quite stupified, and saw with surprise, that his
supposed traitor had his hand full of dried grafs, from
which some smoke arose k). Soon after when it took fire,
Friday flung ) it to the ground, put more dried grafs and
wood upon it, and Robinson in that momenɩ saw with joy.
ful surprise a clear fine fire blazing up. Now he at once
comprehended Friday's sudden flight; and quite lost m) in
joy, he fell on his neck, pressed him heartly, and in his
own mind begged a thousand times his pardon for his unti-
mely suspicion.
Nicholas. But where did Friday get the fire.
Father. He ran with his hatchet into the wood, to cut
a couple of dry sticks. These he rubbed together with so
much quickneſs and addrefs, that they took fire, then he
wrapped this burning wood up in a little hay, and with
this hay in his hand, he ran away as fast as he could. By
this swift motion the hay took fire and began to flame.
Friend R. There again I do not like our friend Robinson.
John. Why not?
Friend R. Because he could harbour such a black suspi
cion against him, without having any sufficient proof of his
infidelity. Fie! who would be so suspicious!
John. Ay, but what he suspected might have been true;
and then he was obliged, to be on his guard against him.
Friend R. Understand me right, dear John! I don't
blame him for thinking it possible, that Friday might be
unfaithful to him; neither do I blame him, for running
after him, in order to prevent him from doing him any
mischief, in case he intended him any for this precaution
against such an unknown man was indeed necessary and
good. But I blame him, for being so ready to think his
:
i) to stand. k) to arise. 7) to fling. m) to lose,
6115-
suspicion grounded, and for falling into such a passion;
as
not to suppose, that Friday might still be innocent.
No, our diffidence of other people must never go so far,
if we have not the surest proofs of their infidelity before us.
In doubtful cases we must always suppose the best, but
never the worsta
Father. A very good maxim! Mind that,
my children.
Now our Robinson was, as I told you, out of his wits
for joy, when he saw
when he saw his suspicion vanish
his suspicion vanish, and found
himself again in possession of fire, which he had so long
wished for, and so long wanted. He delighted his eyes a
long while by looking upon the burning flames. At last he
took a fire-brand, and ran in company with Friday to his
habitation.
:
Here he made directly a clear fire in his kitchen, put some
potatoes before it, and flew u) like lightening to his flock,
in order to fetch a young lama. This was directly killed,
skinned, cut up, and a quarter of it spitted, and Friday
was ordered to turn the spit.
Whilst Friday was doing his office, Robinson cut off a
piece from the breast, washed it and put it into one of
his pots. Then he pealed some potatoes, bruised a hand-
ful of maize into flour between two stones, put both to the
meat into the pot, and poured so much clean water upon
it, as he thought necessary. Neither did he forget to shake
some salt in it, and then he placed the pot over the fire.
Charlotte. I know what he was going to make! — some
broth!
Father. Very right;
he had not eaten any these
eight years! You may therefore easily think, how he long-
ed for it.
Friday stared at all these preparations, because he could
R 5
not
a to fly.
202
not conceive, to what purpose they were made. He had
never heard or seen any thing about cooking; therefore he
could by no means gueſs, what the water in the pot was
for on the fire. Now whilst Robinson was gone into his
cave a few moments, and the water in the pot began to
boil, Friday was startled, because he had no idea of what
could bring the water in motion all of a sudden? But when
it boiled up and began to run over on all sides, he took
the foolish whim in his head, that perhaps there might be
some living creature in it, which caused this sudden mo.
tion; and to prevent this supposed animal from flinging all
the water out of the pot, he at once thrust his hand into
it, in order to catch it. But in the same instant he set
up such a dreadful roar, as to make the rock of the cave
echo.
Fear and horror seized our poor Robinson, when he
heard this terrible outcry, because in the first moment he
could expect nothing, but that the savages were come, and
had already got hold of his poor Friday. Fear and selflove
prompted him to escape thro' his concealed passage under
ground, and to save his own life. But he quickly rejected
this idea because he justly thought it a basenefs, to aband
don his new companion and friend. He therefore sallied
forth from his cave without any further hesitation firmly re.
solved, to deliver Friday again from the hands of those
monsters at the peril of his own body and life.
Friend B. So I like you, my friend Robinson!
Father. Thus he sallied forth with his hatchet in his
hand: but how great was his astonishment, when he
saw Friday quite alone; jumping about like a madman,
roaring without intermission and making very singular con
torsions. He stood a good while quite stupified, not know◄
ing what to think of it, At last they came to an explanation
and
203
and he was informed by signs, that the whole mischief
consisted in Friday's having burnt his hand a little.
·
It was not very easy to pacify him. But that you may
know, what Robinson could not comprehend till a year
afterwards, when Friday could speak with him, why he
made such wry faces: I must first tell you, what ignorant,
untaught people generally think in their youth, when any
thing happens to them, of which they can not conceive
the reason.
These poor simple folks then generally believe some invi
sible being, some spirit, to be the cause of what they can
not comprehend; and they think, that a spirit produces
such an effect at the command of some man, to whose
will it is become servile. Such a man, whom they supe
pose to have power over one or more spirits, they call a
sorcerer or wizard, and if it is a woman, a sorcerefs or witch.
If a horse or a cow, belonging to a poor ignorant coun.
try man, fall suddenly ill, and be can not gueſs the cau-
se of their sickneſs, he is very apt to suppose there must
be some wizard or witch in the village, who has bewitched
his horse or his cow, that is, made them fall sick by means
of some invisible evil sprit, or demon.
Charlotte. Oh yes, Papa, that's what our Nanny said,
when our cow became dry all of a sudden.
Father. Take care therefore, dear Charlotte; to unde
ceive the poor girl, if you can when you assist in the
kitchen to morrow.
Now when such simple folks are so superstitious, there
are generally some cunning, malicious cheats, who take
advantage of their ignorance and superstition, in order to
get money from them. Such impostors know how to give
themselves an important air, confirm the poor people in
their error,
and persuade them, that the beast is really
bewitched; but that
but that, at the same time for a certain sum
of
204
of money, they are able to cure such an animal by couns
tercharms or force the sorcerer or evil spirit to desist. Then
these simple folks give them what they demand, and the
conjurer (so they call such a cheat) plays all sorts of foo-
lish tricks before them. Now if the beast recovers by acci
dent, they swear, it has really been bewitched, but coun-
tercharmed by the cunning man (which is another name
for such deceivers). But if the beast happens to die, the
cunning man can assign a thousand reasons, why his charma
has proved fruitless.
The more stupid men are, the more they are addicted to
this fatal superstition. You may therefore easily think, that
it is very much in vogue amongst savages. Whatever their
simple understanding can not comprehend, they ascribe to
the working of evil spirits; and this was the case with our
Friday at present.
He had never heard nor experienced, that water could be
made to boil; he had never felt, what sensation it causes,
when one puts one's hand into boiling water: he could
therefore by no means comprehend, whence that very
painful sensation proceeded, which seized him as soon as
his hand touched the boiling water. He therefore firmly be
lieved, that there was withcraft in it, and that his master
was a sorcerer,
Now, my children,
you also must expect, that
in future times you will meet with something or other, the
cause of which you will not be able to discover. You will
see jugglers and conjurers, who can do wonderful things,
who, for instance, can in appearance change a bird into
a mouse, cut a bird's head off and bring it to life again
etc.; and with the greatest attention you will not be able
to discover the fraud; now if on such occasions you should
be tempted, to imagine that this must be done by evil
means, that the man must be a wizard! then remember
our
205
case,
our Friday, and be assured, that you are in the same
he was in; and that from ignorance you believe a
thing to be supernatural, which nevertheleſs is produced
by very natural means. We will occasionally explain some
of these tricks to you, to prepare you for such things, and
enable you to conclude from them, what others may be.
It was not very easy, as I told you before, to quiet
poor Friday, and make him sit down again, to turn the
spit. However at last he was prevailed on, but he still
continued to look at the pot with secret horror, and he
now considered his master with fear and respect as some
supernatural being. He was strengthened in his opinion by
Robinson's white european complexion and long beard, which
gave him a quite different appearance from that of Friday's
tawny and beardleſs countrymen.
Nicholas. Have the savages in America no beard?
Father. No, it has been long thought that they were
beardleſs by nature; but of late it has been observed, that
they have no beard, only because they very carefully pluck
out the hairs from their chins, as soon as they appear.
upon,
Now the broth, potatoes and roast meat, all was ready.
As he had no spoons, he poured out some broth in
two other pots. But Friday could in no wise be prevailed
to taste some, because he thought the broth was
some bewitching potion and he shuddered with horror,
when he saw Robinson lifting the pot to his mouth and
drinking the supposed bewitched broth, whereas he ate a)
with great appetite some of the roast meat and potatoes. You
can hardly imagine, how delightful it was for Robinson, to
eat warm and nourishing victuals. It made him forget all the
hardships, he suffered during the former years, spent in
misery; it made him forget, that he was still in his island,
a) to eat.
S
he
i
205/
he thought himself in another country, nay in the midst of
Europe. Providence can thus by the balm of unexpected joy
in a single moment heal the wounds of our hearts, that
were struck b) for our good, and which, during the sen
sation of pain, we think incurable! I think it needlefs to
tell you, that Robinson did not forget, to thank the Giver
of all good things with love and gratitude, whilst he was
enjoying this new gift of his divine bounty.
rent,
The meal being finished, Robinson placed himself in his
musing corner, to make serious reflections on the happy
change of his situation. Every thing had now a quite diffe-
a much more agreeable appearance. His life was
no longer solitary; he had
he had now a companion, with
whom, it is true, he could not converse as yet, but his
bare company afforded him comfort and assistance ; he
had again fire and palatable and wholesome provisions in
plenty."
What can hinder me now, thought he, from
living satisfied and at ease? I will therefore enjoy the
manifold benefits of Heaven; I will eat and drink the best
of my flock and of the fruits of my land (for I have abung
dance of every thing), and make myself amends for the hard.
ships and want, I suffered these last years, by ease and
good cheer! Friday may work for me; he is young and
stout, and I merit, that he should be my servant." Here
his reflections stopt; for another idea struck him.
But how? thought he, if all my present happinefs
should at once cease? If Friday should happen to die? If
I should again lose my fire?" A cold shivering ran thro' all
his limbs at this reflection.
, And, thought he, if by a soft and voluptuous life I
indulged myself so much, that it were impossible for me to
b) to strike.
red
207
return to the hardships and misery of my former way of life?
And if I were nevertheleſs forced to return to it?" Here he
heaved a deep sigh.
Then he continued:,, To what am I indebted for hav-
ing been disengaged from so many frailties and vices, which
I was so much addicted to before? Certainly to that sober
and laborious life, I was forced to. And should I now
risk losing that health of body and mind, which I have ac▾
quired by frugality and labour? God forbid!" thought he,
jumping up from his seat, and walking hastily up and down
in his yard. Friday was in the mean time carrying the re-
mains of the dinner in the cellar, and went now at Robin.
son's command to milk the lamas.
:
יי
In the interim Robinson was thus going on meditating:
, And, how long would it be, before I should forget all
the hardships I suffered and the paternal assistance, which
God has hitherto lent c) me, if 1 were henceforth to lead
an easy and voluptuous life? how soon would I become
presumptuous, arrogant and even forget God Almighty?
That's dreadful! dreadful! he cried and fell on his knees,
to pray God to preserve him above all things from such de-
testable ingratitude.
He remained a few minutes longer quite absorbed in
thoughts; then he took the following manly and truly salu
tary resolution:
I will indeed, thought he, enjoy the new gifts of di-
vine bounty, but always with the greatest temperance. The
most simple victuals shall be my food, however great and
manifold my provisions may be. I will also continue my la
bour with as much industry and as uninterruptedly, as I
have done hitherto, tho' it be not so necessary. One day
every week, and this shall be the saturday, I will live ou
Sa
on
the
to lend.
208
the same raw victuals, on which I have hitherto subsisted;
and I will spend the last day of every month as solitary, as
1 have been obliged to do all the time I have been here.
Then Friday shall stay a whole day and night far from me
in my summer- place."
1
After having taken this virtuous resolution, he felt that
pure, heavenly joy, with which any endeavour after higher
perfection is always attended. His face glow'd, his heart
anticipated the happy consequences of this free sacrifice and
beat more cheerly, and he found himself unspeakably easy.
But now he knew d) the inconstancy of the human heart,
and of his own too and consequently he foresaw e) that
it was
not impossible, but he might again forget all these
laudable resolutions. He thought therefore, that it would
not be improper, to make some sensible mark,
at the
sight of which he might be daily reminded of them. With
this design he took up his hatchet, and ingraved in the rock
over the entrance of his cave these words: Labour and
temperance. Now, my children, I give you time till
to morrow, to consider this instructive circumstance in the life
of our friend, to see if there be not something in it, which
you may imitate for your advantage. When we are again
assembled, you may then communicate me your thoughts
on it, as I intend telling you mine.
d) to know. #) to foresee.
EIGHT
EIGHTEENTH EVENING.
The following day the young folks were seen whispering to
each other, and there reigned such bustle among them,
that it was easily to be perceived, there was something of
importance on the carpet. However it was not possible to
discover, what it was, till the hour for Robinson's history,
had struck ). Then they came running and crowding about
the father, in so much that he was obliged to retreat to a
grafs, bank, to prevent his being crushed by them.
Father. Well, what's the matter, what's the matter?
All. One favour! dear Papa! one favour!
Father. Well let me hear it!
All at once. Oh I should like
oh and I
oh I should be glad
Father. Hush! Nay; I don't understand a single word,
if you will all speak together. Let one speak after the other !
Dick, do you begin!
Dick. I, Nicholas and John would beg leave, not to eat
any dinner to-morrow.
Theophilus. I, Frederic and Charlotte would beg to eat
nothing but a bit of dry bread for breakfast tomorrow, and
no supper.
$
Father. And what is your reason for that?-
ƒ) to strike.
S3
John.
210
John. Nay, we would learn to be master of ourselves.
Nicholas. And we wish to accustom ourselves to bear a
little hunger, that it might not seem hard to us, in case
we should ever be forced to do it.
Theophilus. Ay, and then we would beg Papa to give
us leave, not to go to bed to-morrow, but sit up the
whole night.
Father. I am glad, my children, that you perceive the
necessity of denying to yourselves sometimes of your own
accord what is agreeable to you, that you may learn to
bear the want of it in case of need. That strengthens the
body and mind at the same time. I therefore grant your re
quest, but
but on
on condition, that you do it willingly and
gladly, and tell me freely, in case it should be too hard
for you.
All. Oh, it will certainly not be too hard for us!
Friend R. I'll follow your example, you little ones, and
fast with you to morrow night.
Friend B. And I'll follow your example, Dick, Nicholas
and John; we will fast together at dinner time, and I'll
watch with you all.
Father. Bravo! Bravo!
Now, should I alone be be
hind on the road to perfection? Hear, what I have res
solved to do!.
You know, I have been greatly spoiled in my youth. I
had coffee and tea beer and wine to drink, When I was
a youth I had the folly to accustom myself to take snuff and
to smoke. All these things greatly debilitate the body and
create so many necessaries and render us uneasy every mo
ment, when we can not have them. I have often the head.
ache, which I should probably not have, if I had not been
accustom'd to strong and hot liquors from my youth. This
and the example of our Robinson have made me resolve,
to give them all up from this very moment. From this day
there.
211
he
therefore I'll neither smoke nor take any snuff; from this
day forward I'll drink no more tea nor coffee, no beer nor
then we
wine, except on birth-days and other festivals
will all drink a little wine and rejoice in that gift of God and
offer our thanks for it to the Giver of all things. People (*)
will make many objections against this. One will say: „,
the man is
will copy (§) Diogenes;" another will say:
hypochondriac, he finds pleasure in tormenting himself!"
That's what people will say; but my dear children, if we
will do any thing, that is right and good before God and
in our own conscience, we must never ask: what will the
world say to it? we must rather let the world say what they
please, and do what we think right. Even physicians will
shake their heads at me and prophesy me, God knows what
distempers, because I am resolved to be no longer sick in
body and mind; but, my children, if we have courage
enough to return to the path of Nature, we must never con
sult physicians, who themselves have deviated from it.
I thought proper to tell you all this before-hand, that you
might learn by an example, that we can do much, if we
will, and that no ill habit is so strong, which, with the
assistance of God, we should not be able to conquer, if We
earnestly set about it. -
Now, my children, these exercises of abstinence and
self-denial, which we have resolved upon, will be suffi«
cient to begin with. After we have happily conquered these
every following task will be the easier. Thus
every one
will do, what he has freely resolved upon; and now again
to our Robinson.
S 4
His
(*) And will that do? said some people and shook their heads
when they heard of this resolution. It will certainly do, answered
the father; and experience has shewn, he was right, because the
family gained health and strength in proportion as they returned to a
natural and simple way of living.
>
(§) Diogenes was a man who denied himself every thing, which
was not absolutely necessary for the support of life.
212
His situation is now better, than it has ever been since
his being 'cast away on this island. The only thing, that
made him now very uneasy, was the apprehension, lest the
savages should return to look for their companions, that
had not returned with them; and that it would then most
probably come to a very bloody action between him and
them. He trembled at the thought of being forced to shed
human blood, and his own uncertain fate made him no
lefs uneasy.
1
In these circumstances the duty of self-preservation forced
him to provide for his own safety as well as possible. He
had long since wished to have proper fortifications about his
castle; but the execution of this plan seemed impossible for
him as long as he was alone. But now, as he had an as-
sistant, he thought he might undertake such a thing. He
therefore ascended the top of the hill, from whence he
could oversee the whole place, in order to make a plan
which was soon ready. He needed only make a pretty bread
and deep ditch on the outside of the wall of trees, which
inclosed his castle, and fix palisades on the inside of it.
Frederic. Pray, what are palisades?
John. Have you forgot that again! Don't you remember
the pointed posts, which Papa put close together about one
of the ravelins of our little fortrefs. Why, those are
palisades.
Frederic. Oh yes!
Let's go on.
Father. Into this ditch he intended to lead the spring;
that arose g) at a small distance from his dwelling, so that
part of the brook should flow thro' the middle of his yard,
that he might not be in want of water in case of a regular
siege.
It was difficult, to make Friday comprehend all this by
signs.
g) to arise.
213
signs. However he succeeded at last; and Friday ran di-
rectly to the sea-shore, to look for all kinds of tools to
dig and shovel with, I mean large muscle shells and flat
sharp stones. Upon which they both fell a working.
You may easily imagine, that this was not a very easy
task. They were obliged to make this ditch at least six foot
deep, and eight foot broad, if it was to be of any use.
The length of it might be from eighty to a hundred steps.
And as he had no iron instrument, no pick axe, no spade,
pick-axe,
no shovel, consider what a laborious task it must be!
They wanted almost four hundred palisades; and these must
all be cut, squared and pointed with one stone - hatchet:
they were also obliged to dig a cannal almost as deep from
the spring to the ditch, to lead the water thro'; and there
was moreover between this spring and his dwelling, an
eminence which they were obliged to cut through.
But all these difficulties did not discourage our resolute
friend. His moderate and active life had made his courage
in every important undertaking much greater,
than it is ge-
nerally found with men grown up in softneſs, idleness and
plenty. With God and good courage! was the mot
to, with which he began every important undertaking; and
then we know, he did not desist till he had gained his end.
A
It was the same now. Both he and Friday worked, from
early in the morning till late at night, with such vigour and
earnestnefs, that it is surprising, how much the work ad
vanced every day, notwithstanding their wretched tools.
Luckily the wind blew h) from such a quarter during two
mouths, that is was impossible for the savages to visit Ro
binson's island. Consequently they needed not fear being
surprised by them.
Whilst Robinson was thus busy, he was endeavouring to
S 5
teach
h) to blow.
214
teach his companion so much of the German tongue, as
to make him understand what he spoke i) to him; and
Friday was so desirous of learning, that he could in a short
time comprehend a great deal of it. In this Robinson did
just as we do with you, when we teach you Latin or French;
as often as he could he shewed bim the object, he spoke
of, and then pronounced the name of it aloud and dis-
tinctly. But when he spoke of things, which he could not
shew him, he made such expressive looks and gestures,
that Friday could not but understand him. Thus in less than
six months, he had learned so much German, that they
could tolerably well communicate their thoughts to each other.
A fresh encrease of happineſs for our Robinson! Hitherto
Friday had been but a dumb companion to him, but now
he was enabled to be his real companion and his friend. Oh,
how insignificant was now the trivial pleasure, which the
senseless chattering of the parrot had given him, when com-
pared to this!
Friday still shew'd himself more and more as a good-na
tured, faithful young man, in whom there was no guile;
and seemed to have the sincerest affection for his master.
For which reason his master became k) every day fonder of
him, and sometime after he did not scruple, to let him
sleep along side of him in his own cave.
In lefs than two months their ditch was ready, and now
they might very quietly expect every attack of the savages
For before any one of them could get over the ditch and
mount over the palisades, it was easy for them to kill him
with their arrows or with their long lances. They had there
fore pretty well provided for their security.
One day, when Robinson and Friday were on a rising
ground near the shore, from whence they had a free pros-
pect
to speak. k) to become.
215
ŕ
pect of the sea, Friday stood looking towards the place,
where they could but dimly discover some islands at a great
distance. All of a sudden he began to hop and caper for
joy and made all sorts of gestures. On Robinson's asking
him: what was the matter? he cried out joyfully, still
continuing to hop about: cheer up! cheer up! yonder is
my country! there is my nation! From his glowing face
and sparkling eyes, with which he accompanied these ex-
clamations, there appeared an excessive love for his coun-
try and a desire of returning to it. His master was not at
all pleased, when he cbserved this; tho' it was very praise-
worthy in Friday to love his own country more,
than any
other, and the friends and relations he left there more,
than all other people. Robinson, who had reason to ap
prehend, that he might one time or other leave him for
the sake of his country men, endeavour'd to sound him,
He therefore began the following conversation with him,
which will make you still better acquainted with honest
Friday.
Robinson. Would you then wish to live among your couna
trymen again?
Friday. Oh yes! I should be glad, to see them again.
Robinson. You would then perhaps eat man's flesh with
them again.
Friday. With a serious countenance). No, I would
teach them, not to be savage any more, and to eat the
flesh of animals and milk, but no human flesh.
Robinson. But, suppose they should eat you?
Friday. No, they will never do so!
Robinson. Why, but they do eat human flesht
Friday. Yes, but only the flesh of the enemies they
have slain k).
*) to slay.
Ros
216
Robinson. Could you make a boat, pray, to go over in?
Friday. Oh yes!
Robinson. Well, then you may make one and go over
to them.
(At these words Friday looked at once serious and cast
down his eyes).
Robinson. Well, what is the matter? what makes you
look so sorrowful?
Friday. It grieves me,
It grieves me, that my dear master is angry
with me.
Robinson. Angry? how so?
Friday. Nay, because he will send me away.
Robinson. Why, did not you wish just now to return
to your own country?
Friday. Ay, but if my master it not there, Friday does
not wish to be there neither.
Robinson. Your narration would think me their enemy and
eat me; so that you must go by yourself.
At these words Friday snatched the hatchet from his masa
ter's side, put it into his hand and held out his head for
him to cleave it.
Robinson. What do you want?
93
Friday. Kill me, better kill me, than send me away!
At which words the tears gushed into his eyes. This af
fected Robinson, who fell into his arms and said: Be
unconcerned, my dear Friday! Neither do I ever wish to
part with you: for I love you sincerely. What I said, was
only to try, whether you loved me as much as I do you."
Upon which he embraced him again and wiped away a tear
of joy, that trickled down his cheeks.
Robinson was extremely rejoiced at hearing of Friday's be
ing able to make a boat. He took him therefore by the
band and led 1) him to the place, where he had been
7) to lead.
work.
217
working during some years, in order to make one.
Here
he shew'd him the tree, the third part of which was not
yet scooped out, and told him, how much time he had
already spent in that work.
Friday shook m) his head and smiled. On Robinson's
asking, what objections he had against it? He replied that
all that work was unnecessary, that such a tree could be
hollow'd out much better and faster with fire. Who could
be more rejoiced at this news, than Robinson! The boat
was already finish'd in his fancy; he thougt himself at sea,
and after a prosperous voyage, was landing in some part of
the continent, where he found Europeans! How his heart
beat for joy at the idea of so near a deliverance! It was re-
solved to begin the work at day-break the following morning.
Theophilus. Now our joy will soon have an end!
Father. Why so?
Theophilus. When he has a boat, he will soon sail
away; and when he is returned to Europe, Papa can tell us
no more of him.
Father. And would not you gladly give up this pleasure, if
at this rate you could procure poor Robinson's deliverance?
Theophilus. Oh yes, that's true! I did not think of that.
Father: However, who knows what obstacles may oc
cur that can defer finishing the boat and hinder their depar
ture? The future is uncertain and variable, and generally
proves quite different from what we expected. We are not
seldom disappointed in our hopes, tho' they seem ever so
sure; and it is therefore very wisely done, to be prepared
for the worst. Robinson, who had often experienced
this, went home in company with Friday, piously resolved
to leave the accomplishment of his ardent wish to the all-
wise and most bountiful Providence, who knew much better
than himself, what was most expedient for him.
m) to shake.
T
NINE.
NINETEENTH EVENING.
During the assentblage of the company the next evening,
they had already in part begun those exercises of abstinen
ce, that had been resolved upon. They were all merry and
in very good humour, whilst the father began his tale as
follows:
Well, my dear children, how are you pleased with
Easting?
All. Oh, very well! very well.
Father. You see, I am myself alive too, though I had
Nothing to day but water and milk.
Nicholas. If that be all, I think I could fast still longer!
All. So could I! And I too! Why, that's nothing
at all!
A
Father. There is no occasion for fasting any longer; it
might also prove pernicious to your healths: but if you de.
sire it, I'll propose some other exercises, that will be
equally useful.
All. Ob, yes, yes, dear Papa!
Father. Eevery one of us has done n) enough for to
day, especially as we are to sit up the whole night. But,
if you really have a mind to become very good men, sound
and strong in body and mind, and consequently able to con-
") to do.
tri
219
tribute much, very much to the happineſs of your fellow.
creatures: hear, what I propose to do!
I'll read the works of ancient sages to you, who were
the teachers of those great and excellent men, whom you
so much esteem, when I was relating the ancient history.
These works contain the precepts, which those wise men
gave to their disciples, and by the accomplishment of which
their scholars became so great men. Every week I will write
one of those precepts on a table covered with paper, and
explain it to you. Then I'll tell you at the same time, what
exercises you are to perform during that week, in order to
convert the accomplishment of such a precept into an easy
and agreeable habit. But this indeed can not be done with.
out renouncing a great many agreeable things, and without
freely resolving to give up some favourite amusement, nay
even sometimes to suffer something very disagreeable, in
order to acquire by degrees that strength of mind, which
enables us, to withstand every unwarrantable desire and to
suffer every loſs and want with wisdom and equanimity. We
grown people will indeed show you the example in these
exercises, and require nothing of you, but what we our.
■elves have courage enough to accomplish. Do you consent
to this proposal?
They all agreed to it with a loud affirmation, and joyfully
clapping with their hands. A school of wisdom was there.
fore erected among them from that very moment, which
was particularly different from other shools, that every week
one lesson only was given of half an hour which served
for a whole week's earnest exercise. We may perhaps some
time or other communicate these exercises and their happy
consequences to our young readers, to teach them the
means of becoming very good, useful and happy men *).
T 2
Af
*) Something to serve as a proof of the happy consequence. - Most
220
After the above mention'd agreement was made, the father
continued as follows.
What I said last night at the conclusion of my narration,
to be possible, has really happened.
All. What was it, pray? what pray?
7.
Father. I observed that, in human life,
in human life, we are often
suddenly disappointed in our surest hopes; and that there.
fore Rebinson, however probable and near his deliverance
seemed to be, might meet with some unforeseen obstacle,
that would force him to remain longer there. This obstacle
appeared the very next day.
The rainy season began that very day, which Robinson
from experience knew to be twice a year,
that is when
day and night are equally long, or at the equinox as it is
called. During this
During this rainy season, which generally lasted
one or two mouths, it was impossible to do any work with.
out doors; so hard and incessant was the rain at such ti-
mes! Robinson had also observed, that going out and get-
ting wet at this season, was extremely pernicious to his
health.
of the children, that are introduced speaking in this book, had bad
teeth, because their drink in their infancy had been chiefly sweet and
warm, and they had been used to eat many sorts of dainties. It was
thought necessary, to have their bad teeth drawn. The father there-
fore called them together and said: ,, My children, we think it ne-
cessary, to have your hollow and rotten teeth drawn, in order to
save you from future pain. It is indeed painful! But cheer up your
minds, it gives you an excellent opportunity of exercising your cou-
rage and patience, and of preparing you to bear pain like men for the
future. But this exercise must again be voluntary and without con-
straint, or else it is without use. Whoever will therefore undergo
it freely, let him say yes." They all cried: yes, yes, yes,
with a cheerful countenance, and vied with each other who should
be the first; then they placed themselves by turns before the dentist
with undaunted courage, and I say no more than what is true -
the first had three, the second four, the third five teeth drawn,
most of which were large double teeth with long fangs, without the
least cry; nay, most of them were constantly laughing. The dentist
was astonished, and declar'd, that he had never seen any grown
person, not any man, who had shewn such extraordinary courage
and the father dropt the most grateful tear of joy, which had ever
ran down his cheek.
"
221
health. What was he therefore to do now? He could not
continue his ship building, and was obliged to paſs his
time in domestic occupations.
It was now very agreeable to our Robinson during this
rainy season and the long dark evenings, to have a compa
nion, a friend, with whom he could paſs his time in fa
miliar discourses during their domestic occupations ! Fors
merly he was obliged to paſs these dismal evenings alone in
idlenefs and in the dark, whereas he now sat o) with Fri.
day by a lamp and near the kitchen fire, worked and talk-
ed, and never felt the trouble of tediousness, which is so
oppressing.
→
Friday taught p) him several little arts, by which the sai
vages make their situation tolerable; and Robinson in his
turn taught him other things, which the savages have no
idea of. Thus both encreased in knowledge and dexterity
and by their mutual industry they made a number of little
works of art, which, had every one been alone, would
bave been impossible for either. Now they both felt, how
good it is for mankind to be held g) together by sociable.
nefs and friendship, and not to be roaming about the world
single, like brutes.
{
Among other things Friday understood the art of making
bafs - mats ด which he made so close, that they served them
to make clothes of, Robinson learned it of him; and then
they both made a stock sufficient for cloathing them both
How did Robinson rejoice, that he could now do with
out those troublesome clothes made of raw hides!
Friday moreover understood the art of making ropes of
the filaments, which inclose the cocoa-nuts and of several
kinds of flaxy herbs, which were far superior to those
which Robinson had hitherto made. He could make fishing--
T 3
◊) to sit. p) to teach. g) to hold.
nets
222
was,
nets of thread in a particular manner; an occupation, in
which both spent many a long evening very agreeably.
During these domestic occupations Robinson's chief aim
to clear up the understanding of his poor savage
friend, and by degrees to implant some just and worthy ideas
of God into his mind. How weak and erroneous Friday's
knowledge of religion was, you will easily perceive from the
following dialogue between him and his master.
Robinson. Can you tell me, Friday, who has made the
sea, the earth, the animals and yourself?
Friday. Oh yes! Toupan made them.
Robinson. And who is Toupan?
Friday. Why, the thunderer!
Robinson. But pray, who is the thunderer?
Friday. An old man, a very old man, who lived a
great way beyond all, and who makes the thunder. He
is much older than the Sun, Moon and Stars; and all
creatures say O to him. (By which he meant: all creatu
res adore or worship him),
Robinson. Whither do
they die?
your countrymen go, when
Friday. They go to Toupan.
Robinson. Where does he live then?
Friday. He dwells on high mountains.
Robinson. Has any body ever seen him there?
!
Friday. Nobody ever gets up to him, but the Owoka.
kee's (by which he meant r) priests), who say O to him,
and then they tell us again,
Robinson. Are then the
their death?
what he has said.
people happy with him after
Friday. Oh yes, if they have killed and eaten a great
many enemies.
+) to mean.
Ro.
223
Robinson startled at his deplorable error, and began di
rectly to instill into him juster ideas of God and of the life
to come. He taught him, that God is an invisible, most
powerful, most wise and most bountiful being; that he
bas created every thing, that exists, and provides for every
thing, but that he himself never had any beginning; that
he is present every where, and knows all we think, speak
and do; that he finds pleasure in whatever is good, and
abbors whatever is bad, that he can therefore only make.
those happy in this and our future state, who have with
all their hearts endeavour'd to become good.
as his
Friday hearken'd to these sublime and comfortable instruc-
tions with respectful attention, and they made a deep im
pression on his heart. He still desired to know more of them,
and Robinson being as eager to teach him, as he was to
learn, he in a short time conceived the principal truths of
religion as distinctly and with as much conviction,
instructor was capable to explain them to him. From this
time he esteem'd himself infinitely happy, in having been
transported from his own country to this island,
nay he
even observed, that God's intention was infinitely bountiful
with respect to him, when he suffer'd him to fall into the
hands of his enemies, because otherwise he would probably
never have made Robinson's acquaintance.,, And then," ad-
ded he,„, I should never have got any knowledge of this
bountiful God!"
From this period forward Robinson always said his prayers
in Friday's presence; and it was an affecting sight, to
with what joyful devotion he follow'd his example.
And now they both lived as satisfied and happy, as two
men separated from the rest of mankind can possibly do.
see,
Thus the rainy season passed without appearing heavy to
them. The sky already began to clear up; the storms were
hushed, and the heavy rain clouds were dispersed. Ro
>
T 4
bin-
2:24
binson and his faithful companion now again breathed the
mild and temperate air of the spring; they both felt them•
selves strengthen'd, and therefore went with great cheerful.
nefs to the important work, they had resolved upon before
the rainy season.
•
Friday, as Master in the art of ship building, began to
hollow out the trunk of the tree with fire. This went 80
fast and so well, that Robinson could not forbear calling
bimself a dunce, because he had not thought of that method.
But, added he to his comfort, suppose, I had thought
of it, yet I could not have done it for want of fire!
I hope, you will spare me the trouble of giving you a
circumstantial account, how their work advanced every day,
because such a relation would be neither entertaining nor
instructive. I shall therefore only tell you, that the boat,
which Robinson alone would perhaps never have ended, at
least not in many years, was now by their united strength
finish'd within two months. They only wanted a sail and
oars. Friday undertook to make the former, and Robin.
son the latter.
Theophilus. But how could he make a sail? could he
make one without linen?
Father. It is true; he did not understand to make li.
nen, neither had he a loom for it: but he could, as I
have already told you, make fine mats of the bark of trees,
and these the savages use as sail-cloth,
They both finished their work nearly at the same time,
Robinson his oars, and Friday his sails; and now they
bad nothing more to do,
to do, than to launch the vessel they
had made.
Frederic. What's the meaning of that?
Father. Did you never see, when they let a new- built
ship run from the banks of the Elb, where it was built,
into the water?
Fro
225
Frederic. Oh yes! I did.
Father. Well, then you have seen, that the ship stands
on a frame made of beams. These are called the stocks.
Now as soon as the wedge, which holds the ship, is re-
moved, it runs along a beam into the water, and this is
called launching a ship. The place, where they had
built s) their boat, was unfortunately for them some thous
sand paces from the shore, and now the question was :
how they should get it thither? To carry it, to shove it,
or to roll it, seem'd impossible; for it was much too
heavy. What were they therefore to do now? This was a
fresh difficulty for them?
Dick. Why, Robinson needed only make such levers
again, as he lately used, to roll the two large stones out
of his cave, when he had no body to assist him!
Father. He had not forgot the advantage, which this
simple instrument affords; he therefore made use of it upon
the occasion; but this method of moving that boat was 80
tedious, that he foresaw t), it would employ them a whole
mouth at least. He luckily at last recollected such an other
simple instrument, which carpenters and other mechanicks
generally use in Europe to remove heavy burthens, 1 meau
rollers
Frederic. What are tollers?
Father. Long round pieces of wood, that easily roll
along, because they are round. These are placed under
the loads that are to be removed, which if pushed forward
but with moderate strength, run along of themselves on
these rollers.
Robinson had scarce made the trial, when he perceived,
how easily and quickly they could move their boat forward!
T 5
to build.) to foresee.
In
226
In two days they got it into the water, and it was ne
small joy for them both to see, that it answer'd their exs
pectation perfectly.
Now they had nothing more to do, than to make the
necessary preparations for their departure, that is to pro
vide themselves with as many provisions, as their boat could
carry, and then to begin their wish'd for voyage. But where
should they now go to? Friday wished to go to his native
island; Robinson on the contrary desired to sail to the
continent of America, where he hoped to meet with Span-
iards or other Europeans. Friday's country was only about
four german miles off, and the continent from twelve to
fifteen miles. If they first sailed to the former, they went
Bome miles further from the latter, and the danger of the
voyage was consequently encreased. On the other hand Fri-
'day only knew the way to his own country; whereas the
way to the continent was entirely unknown to him. Robin◄
son knew still lefs about the matter, having never been in
those seas before. Thus they were again involved in fresh
difficulties.
At last Robinson's desire of returning among civilised peo
ple got the better of all his companion's difficulties and ob-
jections. It was resolved to make all the necessary prepara
tions for their departure the very next morning, and to sail
with the first favourable wind to where, according to Fris
'day's supposition, the next coast of the continent was
situated.
And let this be enough for to day; it is time to prepare
ourselves for our intended watch.
Upon which they assembled in a watch-room, where
the mother had several kinds of domestic occupations in
readiness for those, who were to watch, that they might
amuse themselves during the night. Two of them were pla
ced
227
ced as centinels in the remotest corners of the garden, but
separately, and after the expiration of a quarter of an hour
they were again relieved with fife and drum, by two others
who took their posts. Every hour they were refreshed with
some fruit.
It was a glorious night. The half moon appeared on one
side of the sky, and on the other a distant dark cloud,
from which lightnings darted without intermission; the air
was so warm, and all nature so quiet, that they all consi
fessed the next morning, that they had never past a day;
much lefs a night with greater pleasure, than this.
TWEN.
TWENTIETH EVENING.
Father. Now my children, Robinson and Friday have
pack'd up their alls, and the wind is favourable. Prepare
therefore, to bid them farewell for ever: for who knows,
whether we shall ever hear or see any thing of them again!
All. Surprised and sorry). Oh!
Father. So it is in the world! we can not always remain
with our friends; the pain of separation is unavoidable; we
must therefore reconcile ourselves to it before hand.
When Robinson had left his castle, he stopt u) on the
hill above it in a pensive posture and bade his companion.
walk along before him. Then he revolved in his mind all
the past sufferings of his solitary life in this place; and the
wonderful guidance of heaven, which had hitherto directed.
him, moved his inmost heart. A flood of grateful tears
of joy bedewed his cheeks. Then putting up his open arms
to heaven, he addressed the Almighty with fervent devotion
Oh, thou my dear, dear heavenly Father, how am I
to thank thee for all thou hast hitherto done for me? Be-
hold (falling on his knees) here I lie in the dust before thy
allseeing eyes, unable to exprefs my ardent feelings in words!
But thou seest this heart, thou seest inexpressible sentiments
of gratitude, with which it is entirely filled. This heart;
which loves thee above all things, which thou hast so often
7) to stop.
amends
229
amended, this heart, that has been so often wounded by
affliction, and so often healed by thy goodneſs, is all I
can give thee in return, my bountiful Father, for all thy
innumerable benefits. Accept of it, my Father, oh, take
it entirely, and accomplish the work of my amendment
which thou hast begun! Behold, I cast myself again into
thy paternal arms! Do with me according to thy will. Од
ly let me never again forsake the path of virtue, to which
thy mercy has brought a) me back. Only preserve me from
that, my Father, only preserve me from that! For the
rest, let my fate be, whatever they divine wisdom has de
creed. I go, wherever thou wilt lead me; I go with cou
rage, confiding in thee, to meet every new danger, that
may await me. Be thou with me with thy invisible presene
ce; watch over my immortal soul, and strengthen it in
every temptation of despondency, impatience, and ingratis
tude, which I may chance to fall into towards thee, oh,
thou eternal heavenly love, iny Creator, my Father my
God! God! God!
?
Now his feelings became so violent, that he was unable
to continue any regular series of thoughts. He flung b) him-
self with his face on the ground, to give a free vent to his
tears. Thus strengthen'd by divine comfort
he got up
again, and once more survey'd that country, which was
now so dear to him, and which he was now to leave. His
feelings were the same as those of a man, who is to leave
his native country, and who has no hopes left of ever seeing
it again. His eyes filled with tears were with affliction and
fondneſs fixed on every tree, in the shade of which he fore
merly used to solace himself, on every work of his hands,
which he had made by the sweat of his brow. These ob
jects caused him the same feelings
U
!
as if he had been
obliged
a) to bring. b) to fling.
250
And at last when he per-
foot of the hill, he was
obliged to leave so many friends.
ceived his lamas grazing at the
obliged, to turn away his face, in order to keep to the
resolution, he had taken to depart.
open arms,
At last the struggle was over. He took courage, and with
as if he would embrace the whole country and
all the objects in it, he cried aloud: farewell, ye witnes
ses of my past sufferings! fare ye well! which last word
was lost in loud groans. Now he once more lifted up his
eyes to heaven, and set out with resolution on his way to
the shore.
As he went along he perceived his faithful Poll flying be.
sides him from tree to tree. He could not withstand the de
sire of taking the bird along with him; he therefore stretch-
ed out his hand, crying: Poll: Poll! and the poor thing
hopt down on its master's hand, from whence it ran ou
his shoulder, where it remained. Thus Robinson join'd
Friday, who waited for him with impatience, and they both
went into the boat.
It was on the thirtieth day of November about eight oʻ
clock in the morning, in the ninth year of his solitary
island, when our friend went to sea,
the wind blowing
fresh and favourable. They had not sail'd far, when they
came to a chain of rocks,
Charlotte. Oh! tell us first, what is a chain of rocks.
Father. Seamen thus call a row of rocks connected to
gether, which are either hidden c) under water or seen
here and there above the surface. This chain of rocks ran
from one promontory of the island above two german miles
into the sea. To get over them seemed dangerous to both;
they therefore shifted their sail to give their boat another
direction and thereby to avoid this chain of rocks.
c) to hide.
Ni-
231
Nicholas. But how could they know, how far these rocks
went into the sea, as they were covered with water?
Father. That they could see by the breaking of the
waves, which rise higher in such places, where there are
any rocks hid, and foam, because they are stopt and broken
d) by the rocks underneath.
They had scarce attained the end of this chain of rocks;
when their boat was suddenly born e) away, as if they had
had twenty sails up in the most violent storm. They were
both terrified and made haste to furl their sail, supposing
it to be the effect of a sudden blast. But to no purpose;
the boat ran with as great rapidity as before: and now they
perceived with terror, that they were in the midst of a
strong current.
Frederic. Tell us,
what is a current?
Father. The bottom of the sea is as uneven as the sur
face of the continent, and there are mountains, hills and val-
lies, as well as upon land; this makes the waters run with
great rapidity towards the lower parts, which forms large
rivers in the midst of the sea, as large as our Elbe. Those
currents are generally very rapid, and very dangerous for
ressels, especially for small ones, if they happen to fall
into them; because they hardly get out of them again, so that
they are often carried fifty miles or more out into the sea.
Theophilus. Oh, poor Robinson, what will be your
fate now?
Charlotte. Why did he not stay in his island! I thought
some inischief would befall him again.
Father. This time it was not forwardneſs or levity that
impelled him to this voyage. On the contrary his motives
were the most reasonable. Thus all what now befell f)
him, he might look upon as sent by God, and he was
now quite resign'd.
d) to break. ) to bear. f) to befall,
U 2
The
232
They both now exerted all their strength with their oars
in order to get the boat out of the current; but in vain!
An irresistible force carried then away with the swiftneſs of
an arrow, and now they saw nothing more of their island,
except the hills. Their destruction seemed now inevitable;
for in leſs than half an hour the tops of the highest moun
tains would be likewise out of sight; and let the violence
of the current sooner or later subside, it would then be
impossible for them to find their way back again to the is
land, because they had no compaſs.
Frederic. No -- ?
Father. No compafs, I say. Nicholas, who is to be
captain of a ship, will tell you what that is.
Nicholas. (Laughing). If I knew but all a good sailor
should know, as well as that! a compaſs, Frederic, is
a magnetic needle in a little round box-
Frederic. Ay, but what is a magnetic needle?
Nicholas. That is a needle made of steel, which has
been rubbed on a certain stone
a certain stone, called a loadstone or a
magnet, by which it acquires a wonderful quality, to wit
that way - tog
that it always points towards the North
wards Wandsbeck, By this compaſs the marines steer their
even when they see nothing but sky and water;
else they would soon lose themselves on the great ocean and
not know, to what part of the world they were sailing.
Father. Do you understand that, Frederic?
course,
Frederic. Yes! I do, now please to go on!
Father. As Robinson had not such a compaſs, it would
be impossible for him to find his way back again, as soon
as he had entirely lost sight of the island. And how terrible
>must bis situation then be? To be tossed about on the
wide ocean in a small unsafe boat, and to have provisi
can there be a situation more
ons only for a few days
dreadful?
But
233
But here we may plainly perceive, what a valuable and
great treasure true piety and good conscience are in need
and danger! If Robinson did not possels them, how could
he have born g) the oppressing burthen of this new dis.
trefs? He would have fallen into despair and made an end
of his pitiful life to avoid perishing with hunger in a slow
and dreadful manner.
ed,
His companion, whose piety was not yet so well ground-
nor fortified by so many and long sufferings, as his
naster's, was very near despairing. Unable to work any
longer, and quite dejected he flung down his oar, and
with a piteous aspect asked his master, whether it would
not be best for them to jump over board, in order to avoid
all the misery, that awaited them, by a speady death?
Upon which Robinson first talked to him with milduefs, and
endeavour'd to encourage him; then he reproved him in a
friendly tone for his want of trust in the all directing divine
providence, and reminded him of what he had taught him
upon this subject.,, Are we then," added he, „only in God
Almighty's hand, when we are upon land do you think?,
Is not He likewise the Lord of the ocean, and cannot he
if he please compel those furious waves to carry us again
to some place of safety? Or do you think, you can escapa
his power by throwing yourself into the sea? Know, in
eonsiderate young man, that your immortal soul will be
for ever a subject in the immense empire of God, and that
it can not possibly be happy, if it leaves this life as a reg
bel against God, and does not wait, till it be called by
its Creator!"
Friday was sensible of the truth of this remonstrance and
ashamed of his despondency. On Robinson's exhortations,
he took up is oar again, and both continued to work with
U a
vi❤
g) to bear.
234
1
gour, though they had not the least hopes, that it would
be to any purpose. This, said Robinson, is our duty. As
long as there is a spark of life remaining in us, we must
do our utmost to preserve it. Then we can die, if it must
be so, with the comfortable consciousness, that it was the
will of God. And his will, dear Friday, continued he,
raising his voice, and with undaunted courage sparkling in
his eyes, his will is always good, always good and wise,
tho' we shortsighted mortals can not conceive it!
In the mean time the rapidity of the current continued
carrying the boat along with it. Now they could see nothing
of the distant island, but the tops of some mountains, and
at length only the summit of a single one, the highest in
the island, so that they now lost all possible hopes of save
ing themselves!
Whilst
and left
But when, all human assistance vanished, when the cala
mity of the unfortunate is at the highest pitch, and no
means of escaping seem left any where; then, my children,
the hand of all ruling divine providence appears most visi.
bly, to interpose, and to save us by such means as we
could in no wise foresee. This was the case now.
Robinson himself had given up all hopes of life,
off rowing, being quite exhausted with fatigue, he sudden.
ly perceived, that the rapid motion of the boat began to
abate. He looked into the water, and found it leſs trou
bled, than it had been before. And looking a second time
on the surface of the water, he was convinced, that the
current was here divided, and that the largest arm of it
ran to the North, whilst the other, which was lefs rapid,
and on which their boat was now floating, turned towards
the South.
With unspeakable joy he now cried to his companion;
who was almost dead: Cheer up, Friday! God Almighty
will have us preserved!" Then he shew'd him the visible
""
foun.
235
foundation of his hope; and shouting for joy, they both
took up their oars again, which they had just before dropt
being quite spent h) with fatigue. Encouraged by the un-
expected hopes of life they labour'd with unspeakable vigour
against the stream, and perceived with infinite satisfaction,
that their endeavours were not without succefs. Robinson,
who from a long series of misfortunes was accustom❜d to fix
his attention on every particular, observed that the wind
would also be advantageous to them: he therefore imme•
diately unfurled his sail, which the wind presently filled,
and as they both used all their efforts with their oars, they
had in a short time the inexpressible joy, to see themselves
freed from the current and on the smooth surface of the sea.
Friday wept aloud for jog, jump'd up, and was going
to embrace his master, who desired him to moderate his
joy for the present, because they had a tough piece of
work to go thro' yet, before they could think themselves
entirely out of danger; in fact they had been carried so far
out at sea, that they could see nothing of the island,
cept some little black spots on the horizon.
Frederic. Horizon? what's that?
ex-
Father. When you are without in the open field, does
not it appear to you, as if the sky round about you reach'd
the ground, like a large vault ?
Frederic. Yes!
Father. Now that circle, where the earth seems to have
an end, and the sky to begin, is called the horizon. You
will hear more about it in a short time,
Our chearful navigators rowed with so much spirit, and
the wind blew k) so favorably for them towards the eastside
of the island, to which they were sailing, that they could
in a short time see the mountains again, Cheer up! cried
U 4
h) to spend. ;) to weep. k) to blow.
N
Ro•
236
Robinson to his companion, who was sitting in the fores
part of the boat, with his back to the island; cheer up,
Friday; our misery is drawing to an end!" He had scarce
pronounced these words, when the boat got such a violent
shock, that they fell headlong from their seats. In the same
moment the boat was stopt whilst the waves were rushing
into it.
Mother. Nay, my children, however willling I am to
give up my supper,
as well as you, if we could save our
friend by it yet it is now time to get up. Supper waits ;
Jenny has already called us twice,
All. Oh
TWEN.
TWENTY FIRST EVENING.
(Some of the children speaking at once).
Oh, make haste, dear Papa, that we many learn, what
has befallen poor Robinson!
Father. Just when he thought himself in safety, be met
with a new misfortune, as you have already heard, and
which was likely to have proved more fatal, than that which
they had just before escaped. The boat stuck 7) fast all at
and the waves began to rush into it. Now if the
boat had been stopt by some pointed rock, they were in
all probability lost.
once,
Robinson immediately began sounding the ground with his
bar, and finding it firm round about the boat, and not
above half a yard deep, he did not hesitate a moment, but
jumped into the sea. Friday follow'd his example, and they
both found that they were only on a sand-bank and not
on a rock.
They now used all their strength, to get the boat off into
the deep water. They succeeded; and when it was afloat
they both jumped in again.
Charlotte. Now poor Robinson will surely catch cold 1s
he has got wet feet.
Father. When people are so harden'd by an active and
7) to stick,
U 5
na▼
238
natural way of living, as Robinson was, they do not catch
cold by such trifles. So do not be uneasy about that!
John. Why, we ourselves do not so easily catch cold
how often have not we had wet feet last winter?
Father. A proof,
harden'd you a little.
that our manner of living has already
After having thrown the water out of the boat as well as
they could with their oars and hands, they resolved, to
be more careful and to take in their sail, that they might
be the more able to govern their boat. Thus they rowed
along the sandbank, in hopes, of coming soon to the end
of it. But they were obliged to row four long hours, bes
fore they could see their hopes accomplished: for this sand
bank ran
so far from the North to the South. Robinson
perceived that it reached to the very place, where he had
suffer'd ship wreck nine years ago, and that it was con
sequently the same, on which his ship had stranded at
that time,
Frederic. What is stranded, pray?
to
Theophilus. Oh, why do you always interrupt Papa?
Father. Why, it is laudable in him to desire to be in
structed! But you are wrong,
wrong, my dear Theophilus,
blame him for it! Beware of that for the future!
strand, dear Frederic, is when a vessel runs on such a
pand-bank or upon a rock, and can not get off again.
Frederic. Thank you, dear Papa!
To
Father. At last they disengaged themselves from the sand-
bank, and rowed with all their might towards the island
which they could now see very plainly. At last they reached
the shore, when the sun shot m) his last beams on the tops
of the mountains, and landed quite fatigued, tho' excee-
dingly glad of their happy preservation. Neither of them had
m) to shoot.
tast-
239
tasted a bit of any thing the whole day. They could not
therefore wait till their return to the castle, but sat down
on the sea shore and made a hearty meal of the provisi❤
ons, they had taken on board. Hereupon they drew n)
the boat into a small creek
you know what that is, I
suppose?
Johu. Oh yes! where the water runs into the land. It
is almost the same as a bay.
Father. Only that a bay is larger!
They drew, I
Bay, the boat into a creek, and went home carrying back
every thing they had had in the boat.
Nicholas. Oh, you have not done I hone?
Father. Robinson and Friday have betaken themselves to
rest,
and the latter is already in a profound sleep, whilst
the former is offering his hearty thanks to God for this new
preservation. We might therefore finish for to day; but it
being yet soon; I will pass over the night and relate, what
happen'd the following day.
" bave
„
,, Well, Friday," said Robinson at breakfast,
you a mind to make a second trial with me to . day, as
we did yesterday?”
Friday. God forbid!
Robinson. So you are determined, to end your days with
me in this island ?
Friday. If my father were but here!
Robinson. So your father is still alive?
Friday. Unless he died since I left him!
4
Here he laid down the potatoe he had in his hand, and
a couple of large tears roll'd down his cheeks. This put
Robinson in mind of his own parents, and he was also
eyes. Both observed a mournful silence
obliged to wipe his
for some time.
#) to draw.
Ro.
240
Robinson. Take comfort, Friday! Your father is proba
bly yet alive, and please God, we will shortly go over and
bring him hither,
This joy was too great for poor Friday! He jumped up
roaring aloud, flung himself on Robinson's knees, embraced
them, and could scarce utter a word for sobbing.
what an example of
who has no obligas
or any instructions
,, My children! cried the mother,
filial piety in a savage! in a savage,
tions to his father for any education,
who owes him only his life, and even a wretched life!"
So true it is, added the father, that God has implanted
love and gratitude into the hearts of all men towards their
parents! And what a monster must he not be if there
were any such among us civilized people who could stille
this innate impulse, and grow indifferent to his parents,
nay even cause them purposely grief and sorrow! If you
should ever meet with such a monster: oh, never remain
with him under one roof! flee from him, as from a pest
to society, as a person, capable of committing any other
act of inhumanity, and whom the judgment of God will
follow at his heels!
When Friday had recovered himself a little, Robinson
asked him, whether he knew the passage home so well,
that they needed not expose themselves to such dangers, as
they encounter'd yesterday? Friday declared, that he knew
the passage so well, that he would venture to go over by
night because he had often been of those parties, when they
came over to celebrate their victories.
Robinson. So you were often amongst them
killed men?
Friday. Oh yes!
Robinson. And did you share in their feasts?
when they
Friday. I did, alas! I did not know then, that there
was any thing bad in it!
Ro.
241.
Robinson. On which side of the island did you use to
land ?
Friday. Always on the south side, because it was the
and also because there are cocoa trees,
nearest,
I
By this Robinson saw more plainly, how much reason he
bad to thank God for having suffer'd him to be cast on the
north side of the island rather than on the southern, where
he would in a short time have fallen a prey to the savages.
Hereupon he repeated his very agreeable promise to Friday,
that he would shortly go over with him to fetch his father.
For the present it was not yet possible, because their gar-
dening, for which it was now the season, demanded their
immediate presence.
At this they now began. Robinson and Friday dug a) as if
for a wager, and in their hours of relaxation they never
neglected, to make some useful instruments. Robinson,
whose power of invention and patience were equally inex
haustible, even succeeded in making a rake, tho' he was
obliged to make the holes for the teeth
you may easily
guefs, how slowly! with a pointed stone. Friday on the
contrary made by degrees two spades of a very hard kind of
wood with his stone-knife, that they were almost of as
great service to them, as if they had been made of iron.
And now Robinson was no longer satisfied with the most
necessary things, but by degrees he began to think of em▾
bellishing his habitation. And thus it has always been in
the world, my children. As long as men were to employ
all their thoughts in getting their sustenance and in provide
ing for their safety, they never thought of applying to those
arts, which serve to embellish the objects about them and
to procure them more refined pleasure, than the mere ani.
mal pleasures of the senses are. But as soon as they had
V
a) to dig,
pro«
242
provided for their sustenance and safety, they began to unite
beauty with utility and pleasure with the necessary. Thus
arose architecture, painting, sculpture, musick and the
rest comprised under the name of liberal arts.
Robinson began with improving and embellishing his gar
den. He divided it according to a proper plan into regular
quarters; these quarters he again divided by straight paths,
made with the line, into beds; be planted hedges, ar-
bours and walks; appointed one part for a flower-garden,
a second for a kitchen garden, and a third for an orchard.
In the latter he planted all the young lemon trees he could
find in the island, together with a number of other young
trees, on which he grafted the breadtree. I have forgot to
tell you, that in his walks about the woods he found an
other tree of that kind. At this last operation Friday stared
exceedingly, because he could not comprehend, what it
was for, till Robinson explain'd the matter to him.
·
Now they planted potatoes and sowed indian corn in great
quantities, and as the land had perhaps not been used since
the creation of the world, every thing grew luxuriantly.
At times they also went out a fishing, because Friday, as
I have already mention'd had made nets for that purpose
during the last rainy season. They never caught by more,
than they needed, and therefore threw those, they did not
want, into the sea again: for, said Robinson, we must
never take any more of the gifts of God, than we need to
satisfy our wants; and it is wicked to take away the lives
of any more of those harmleſs creatures,
our daily sustenance.
than we want for
On these occasions they generally used to bathe themselves
too; and Robinson could not forbear admiring the asto
nishing dexterity of Friday in swimming and diving. He
b) to catch.
com
243
commonly chose soine rocky shore, against which the fus
rious waves were breaking in a frightful manner; into these
he sportingly jumped down and remained some minutes un
der water,
so that poor Robinson often was in the greatest
uneasineſs about him; then he came up again on the sur◄
face of the water, laid himself on his back and lay rolling
on the waves, playing all sorts of tricks, the circumstan.
tial description of which would appear almost incredible.
Robinson could not help admiring the astonishing capacity of
human nature, which renders us fit for every thing, to
which we have been accustomed from our youth.
On other days they diverted themselves with hunting, bes
cause Friday was also master in making as well as in using
the bow and arrows. They shot birds and young lamas; but
never any more than they wanted, because Robinson, as I
said before, thought it a cruelty, to torment and kill any
animal whatever for mere amusement.
Though Robinson surpassed Friday with respect to unders
standing and in many other things, the latter knew many
little arts, that had been hitherto unknown to his master
and that were now of great use to them. He could make all
sorts of tools out of bones, stones, shells and other things,
with which they could make many things as well, as if they
had been made with instruments of iron. Thus for instance
he made a chisel, of a man's thigh bone, which he had
fund by chance; a rasp, of coral;
a file, of the sharp skin of a fish.
great many pieces of furniture, which greatly encreased the
conveniencies of their lives.
a knife, of a shell;
With these he made a
Friday shew'd his master morcover, to make dough of
the fruit of the bread-tree, which was almost as nourish.
ing as our bread and even something like it in taste, which
was a matter of particular importance. The savage com.
▼ 2
mon,
244
monly eat this dough raw; but Robinson baked it first on
a hot stone, and used it alterwards as we do bread.
Besides this Friday taught ) him the use of cocoakernels,
which he had found in some of his former rambles about the
island, and of which he had by chance taken some home
with him. These kernels, when roasted before the fire were
a very palatable food, and at the same time very nourishing
and wholesome.
Robinson, who was always very fond of making new
trials, pounded some of thein between two stones,
after
they were roasted, mixed the powder of them with some
milk in a pot, and boiled it over the fire. How great was
his astonishment and at the same time his joy, when, tast.
ing it, he found it was real chocolate.
Frederic. Oh! chocolate?
in it.
Father. Yes, except that spices and sugar were wanting
Thus the provisions of our good Robinson encrea-
sed by degrees, and with them the source of his pleasures.
But to his praise I must say, that he persevered neverthe
lefs in his late resolution, and continued to live as mode
rately and as simply, as he had begun.
Now they both made long and frequent excursions through
the island, especially on such days, when the wind was
that the savages could not come over; and on such
occasions they discovered many things, that might be of use
to them for the future.
$0,
་
At last their garden work was finished, and now a day
was appointed to go over to Friday's country, and fetch his
father. But the nearer the day of their departure approached,
the oftener the following scruple arose in Robinson's heart :
suppose, they should not mind the remonstrances of Friday
and I should fall a sacifice to their abominable and inhu•
7) to teach.
man
245
man appetite? He could not help communicating these a.
prehensions to his friend. But Friday assured him by every
thing the most sacred, that he had nothing to fear; that he
knew his country men too well, and that he was sure they
never hurt any body, but their enemies. Robinson was
convinced, he would not say so, if it were not true. He
therefore suppressed all his fearful apprehensions, relyed on
the honesty of his friend, and resolved in the name o of·
God, to set out with him the next morning.
For this purpose they pushed the boat, that had hitherto
lain in the creek, into the sea again, and fasten'd it to a
pole, they had drove h) into the ground. They now spent
the evening in roasting potatoes, and preparing other pro-
visions, which they intended to take along with them, that
they might have enough for eight days at least, On this oc-
casion Friday shew'd his master, that he was not quite ig
norant in the art of cookery; for he roasted a whole young
lama, which they had shot, in leſs time and made it more:
tender, than it would have been when roasted on a spit,
This he did in the following manner.
He dug a hole in the ground about two foot deep into
which he first put a layer of stones alternately. Then he set
fire to the wood. After which he held i) the young lama
over the fire to singe off the hair; this done he scraped it
with a shell so clean, as if it had been scalded in boiling
water. With the same shell be open'd the body of the ani
mal, and took out the inside. Whilst this was doing, all
the wood was burned to ashes, the hole was thorougly
heated and the stones were red hot. Upon which he threw
all the stones together with the ashes out of the hole,
fast as he could, laid some of the hot stones on the bottom
of the hole, and cover'd them with green cocoa leaves
V 3-
Upo
as
h) to drive. 1) to hold,
246
Upon these he placed the lama, and having cover'd it again
with leaves and put all the hot stones upon it, he filled the
hole entirely with earth.
Some hours after he open'd the hole again and took
out the lama. Robinson, who tasted a bit of it, confes-
sed, that it was more tender, more juicy and more savou-
ry, than if it had been roasted on a spit; he therefore
resolved to do it the same way for the future.
John. It is the same way that the natives of Otaheite roast
their dogs.
Father. It is so.
Theophilus. Do they then eat dogs?
John. To be sure! Did not we read so last winter:
the Englishmen, who tasted the meat confessed, it
was very good.
Some of them. Fie!
Father. But you must know, that the dogs there live in
a quite different manner, from what ours do. They eat no
Besh, but feed only upon fruits, so that their flesh may
taste quite differently from that of ours.
1
Now, my children, all the preparations for their in.
tended voyage were made. We will therefore let our two
travellers rest for this night, and then see, to morrow
evening what is become of them.
TWEN
TWENTY SECOND EVENING.
"1
Father. Robinson and Friday had scarcely slept an hour,
when the former was suddenly awoke k) by a violent thun-
der-storm. The thunder rumbled and roared so dreadfully,
that it made the earth tremble. Do you hear that, Fri.
day?” said Robinson, awaking his bed - fellow. Good
God!" said Friday; if we had been at sea now!" He had
scarce pronounced these words, when they heard a sudden
clap, like the report of a gun at a distance.
Friday thought, it was a clap of thunder; Robinson on
the contrary firmly believed it to be the report of a gun,
and this persuasion filled him with joy. He presently jumped
up from his bed, ran to the kitchen and desired Friday to
follow him. Here he took a flaming fire-brand and ran up
bis ladder. Friday follow'd his master's example without
knowing, what he was going to do.
Now Robinson made a large fire on the top of the hill in
the greatest hurry, as a signal for the sufferers, that they
might find a place of refuge here; for he thought, there
was some distressed vessel in the neighbourhood, on board
of which they had fired. But the fire had scarce begun to
burn, when the heavy rains put it out in a moment. Ro-
binson and Friday were therefore obliged, to retire into
their cave.
g) to awake.
V 4
Now
248
Now the storm raged, the rain pour'd down and the
thunder rumbled with uncommon violence. One thunder
clap succeeded another, and tho' it now and then appeared
to Robinson, as if he heard the report of more guns: yet
at last he doubted whether, it might not all be thunder?
During the whole night he nevertheless indulged himself with
the pleasing thought, that there was some ship near to de-
liver him; that it might perhaps escape the danger it was
now in, and carry him with his faithful Friday to Europe.
More than ten times he attempted to make a fresh fire, but
the incessant rain always quenched it again. He could there.
fore do nothing but pray for the people in distress, which
he did with the greatest devotion.
Theophilus. Is not he then so much afraid of thunder
as he formerly was?
DOW,
Father. You see, this foolish fear has left him now;
and what may be the reason of it?
Johu. Because he has a good conscience now.
Father. Very right! and besides he is now firmly con-
vinced, that God is a God of love, and that nothing can
befall those, who are good and righteous, but what must
in the end promote their real happineſs.
The storm did not subside till break of day; and Robin-
son in company with Friday ran between fear and hope tow-
ards the seashore, to see whether what he had supposed,
was true or not? But the first thing they saw was extreŃ
mely grievous to both, especially to poor Friday; for the
storm had torn a) the boat from the stake to which it was
fastened and carried it out into the open sea. It was lamen-
table, to behold the affliction of Friday, when he found
himself disappointed in the pleasing hope of seeing his fa-
ther again! He turn'd as pale as death, and stood for
#) to tear.
80"
249
some time quite speechleſs, his staring looks fixed on the
ground and his whole soul seemed to be absent. Toen he
broke out into a flood of tears,
wrung b) his hands, beat
his breast and tore c) his hair.
""
24
Robinson, who from his own misfortunes had learn'd to
sympathize with the unhappy, pitied his distress, and en-
deavour'd by his kind and friendly remonstrances to bring
him again to reason. Who knows," said he, but it
may be good, that we have lost our boat now? Who
knows, of what service the storm, that is the cause of
it, may be in its consequences to us or to others?" Fine
advantage!" replied Friday a little bitter: it has de-
•
So, replied Robin.
prived us of our boat; that's all!"
son, because you and I, both short sighted beings, can
perceive no other effect of the storm but the lofs of our
boat: you imagine, that God the allwise director of all
things had no other reason for sending it? Senseless young
man, how dare you judge of the designs of God Al
mighty!-
,, Ay, but of what service could it be to us?" said Fris
day. Is that a question, which I can answer? said Ro.
binson. Am I omniscient, to be able to understand the
designs of the ruler of the world? I may indeed suppose
something but who can tell me, whether I have guessed
right? Perhaps there were so many unwholesome vapours
gathered together in our islaud, that a storm was necessary
to disperse them, to prevent our falling sick and dying!
Perhaps our boat would have caused our ruin, if it had not
been destroy'd! Perhaps But why should I repeat my
suppositions, as it is enough for us to know, that it is God,
who commands the storm, and that this God is a most
wise and bountiful Father towards all his creatures?
V 5
b) to wring. c) to tear.
Fri.
250
}
Friday recollected himself, repented of his rashnefs, and
submitted to the will of Providence. In the mean time Ro•
binson's eyes were wandering about on the surface of the
ocean, whether he could not discover a ship some where
or other? But in vain! There was no such thing. He saw
therefore, that he had been mistaken, and that the repeat-
ed claps, which he mistook for the report of cannon had
certainly been nothing, but thunder. Quite dejected at
finding himself deceived in his agreeable hopes, he return
ed home.
But he could find neither rest nor peace at home, be
cause he always fancied he saw a ship at an anchor near
his island. Therefore he went out again, and ascended the
hill, from whence he could overlook the western coast:
but he could not discover, what be bad seen in his agree
able dream. Still dissatisfied and uneasy he ran to another
hill, that was much higher, in order to explore the eas.
tern coast of his island. In a moment he was at the top,
and looking towards the east. Heavens! how his whole
soul was agreeably surprised, when he saw the accomplish.
ment of bis dream!
All. Oh deark
Father. He saw a vessel and, notwithstanding the great
distance, he saw it so distinctly, that he could no longer
doubt of its being a real and at the same time a pretty lar.
ge one. My good children, you will spare me the vain at-
tempts of describing his joy and raptures. He ran almost
breathlefs back to his cave, seized his arms, without which
he never used to go out, and was unable to say any thing
to Friday, who stared at him with surprise, except: there
they are! quick! quick! and thus he got up his ladder
again in the greatest hurry.
Friday concluded from his master's confusion, and from
He there-
his broken words, that the savages were come.
fore
251
fore took up his arms likewise, and ran after his master
with all speed.
?
Ro
They were obliged to go more than two miles, before
they reached that part of the shore, which seemed to be
opposite to where the ship was at an anchor. It was but
here that Friday was informed, what was the matter.
binson shew'd him the ship at a distance, which made him
stare exceedingly because he could see very plainly, noth
withstanding the great distance, that it was an hundred
times bigger, than any he had ever seen before.
Robinson did not know, what to do with himself for
joy. Sometimes he caper'd about, sometimes he halloo'd,
and then again he flung himself into Friday's arms and beg.
ged him with tears in his eyes, to rejoice also!
Now they were going to Europe to Hamburgh! Then
he should see, how the people lived there! What hou.
ses they could build! How conveniently, how quietly,
how agreeably people lived there!
The torrent of
his words was inexhaustible. He
He would perhaps have
continued speaking till the next day without intermission if
he had not recollected, that it was foolish, to spend his
time in useless words, and that he ought above all things
to endeavour, to make himself observed by the people on
board. But how was this to be done? That was now
the question.
He tried to raise his voice; but he soon perceived, that
his endeavours were fruitlefs, though the wind had changed
since the storm, and blew ) now from the island towards
the ship. He therefore desired his friend to make a fire in
all possible haste, which might be seen by the people on
board. Friday did so, and Robinson made the flame of it
rise as bigh as a tree. And now he stood gazing on the
ship,
d) to blow.
252
ship, because he expected every moment, to see a boat
row towards the shore. But there was no boat to be seen.
At last, when the fire had burnt a whole hour in vain
Friday ofler'd to swim to the ship, nothwithstanding its
distance, and beg the people to come on shore. Upon
which Robinson embraced him and begged him by all means
to be careful of his life. Now Friday stript off his clothes,
that were made of mats; took a green branch in his mouth,
and boldly jumped into the water. Robinson sent the warm-
est wishes for his preservation along with him.
Charlotte. Pray, what did he mean by the green brauch?
Father. A green
een branch is among the savages a sign of
peace, and they never molest any one, who thus approa
ches them. He took it along with him for his security.
Friday at last arrived at the ship, swam e) a couple of
times round about it, and cried out halloo! But no body
answer'd him. At last he perceived a ladder hanging down
by a rope; he swam to it, and went up by it with his
green branch in his hand.
When he had got so high, that he could look upon dock,
he was frighten'd at the sight of an animal, the like of which
he had never seen before. It was black and rough; and the
it lifted up his voice
moment it got sight of Friday, it lifted
the
like of which Friday had never heard before. Presently after
it was again silent, and seemed so friendly, that the fear,
it had at first excited in Friday, began to subside. It came
creeping towards him in the most humble posture, wagg'd
its tail, and whined so lamentably, that Friday soon per
ceived, it sought ) his protection. He therefore ventured,
when it had crept g) close to his feet, to stroke it, and
it seemed almost mad for joy.
Friday now walked all over the deck, and continued
•) to swim. f) to seek. g) to creep.
calling
253
calling out with a loud voice: but no body appeared.
Whilst he was staring at the wonderful things he saw upon
deck, with his back turned towards the stairs,
that go
down between decks, he suddenly received such a hard
and violent push from behind, that he fell down at his full
length. Getting up again and looking behind him, he was
almost petrified with terror at the sight of a pretty large ani-
mal with long crooked horns, and a very long beard, ri.
sing on its hinder legs, to give him a second wellcome.
Friday gave a loud outcry, and without hesitating a mos
ment, jumped over board into the sea.
The above mention'd black animal, which you probably
know by the description.
John. Oh yes! a spaniel!
Father. Very right!
Well, this spaniel follow'd Frie
day's example and jumped over board, in order to swim
after him. Friday, who heard something paddling behind
him, imagined the horned monster to be pursuing him, and
was so terrified, that he was scarce able to swim
ready to sink to the bottom: a fresh instance, how preju-
dicial cowardice is, and how it exposes us to dangers
which we might otherwise have escaped!
and
He scarce dared to look behind him, and when he had
recover'd himself a little, he swam so fast, that the dog
could scarce follow him. At last he reached the shore and
fell quite speechleſs and exhausted at Robinson's feet. The
dog landed soon after him,
Robinson used all possible means to recover the faithful
friend of his solitary life. He embraced, stroked, and shook
a) him, calling him aloud by his name. But it lasted several
minutes, before he had the joy of seeing Friday open his
yes, or give any other sign of returning life, At last being
X
to shake.
251
રં
L
again able to speak, he related to him, what a terrible
adventure he had met with; how the vessel seemed to be
a huge wooden mountain, on which three very high trees
were growing. (meaning the masts); how friendly the black
animal had been to him, and how the other horned and
bearded monster had attempted to kill him afterwards; and
that he believed this monster to be the master of this wooden
floating mountain, because he had seen no man upon it.
Robinson listen'd to him with great surprise. He con-
cluded from his description, that the horned monster was
nothing but a goat, and from the rest of the circumstances
he inferred, that the ship was stranded, and that the crew
had saved themselves in their boats, and left the ship; but
he could not conceive
not conceive, what was become
what was become of them. If
they had caved themselves in the island, they would
in all probability be in the same place, where he was now
with Friday but they could neither see nor hear any thing
of them; and had they been overset in their boats, their
bodies and boats must have been driven on shore. At last
be recollected, that the wind had suddenly shifted from the
West to the East during the tempest. This seemed to clear
up the whole mistery.
These people, thought he, have certainly been hinder'd
from reaching our shore by the wind's shifting so suddenly
to the east. The storm must have driven them westwards,
and they must either be lost or got into the current
driven to some westerly island. God grant the last may be
true, said he sighing; and communicated his suppositions
to Friday, who found them probable likewise.
or
But what are we to do now? said Robinson. Whether
the crew be dead or alive, or only driven away by the
storm, in either case the best thing, we can do, is, to
save as many things from the ship as possible. But how?
We have no boat more! Here he felt the lofs of the boat
al.
255
almost as grievously, as Friday had felt it before. He rub
bed his forehead, to find out some means to supply the
lofs of it; but he could find none for a good while. To
make another boat, would have taken up too much time.
He would not venture to swim to the ship, because it was
too far: and then what could he have carried along with
him, whem swimming?
John. I know, what I should have done.
Father. And what would you have done?
John. I should have made a raft.
Father. The very same thing at last occurred to our Ro.
binson! A raft, he thought, would be soonest made.
Frederic. Pray, what is a raft?
John. Did not you see, when we lately went on board
of the yacht, there were a great many rafts lying on the
Elbe near the gate?
Frederic Oh yes, a great many beams fasten'd toge-
ther, so that one could stand and walk on them, as on
board of a ship?
Father. Very right! Such a raft our Robinson intended
to make, and to go with it to the ship, and fetch as ma
ny things,
as they could. Upon which he agreed with Fri-
day, who was the swiftest on foot, to run home and fetch
provisions for a whole day, together with all the ropes
and other tools they had,
whilst Robinson would stay
there, and cut down trees to make a raft,
It was almost night before Friday returned. Robinson in
the mean time diverted himself exceedingly with the dog▸
who was very dear and estimable to him as his european
countryman, The dog also semed no lefs rejoiced and of his
own accord play'd all the tricks before him, which he had
learned. When Friday returned, Robinson gave him the
first portion of the victuals, tho' he himself had not tasted
any thing the whole day.
X 3
As
256
As it was luckily moon-light, they worked on without
interruption till after midnight. But then they grew so
sleepy, that they could not possibly resist any longer.
Nicholas. That I dare say, for they had been up the
whole night before!
Diek. And had run about so much that day; particularly
Friday!
Father. They therefore laid down on the grafs, and
committed the care of watching them to the dog. The dog
laid down at their feet and thus they enjoy'd the benefit of
a soft and refreshing sleep till day break.
•
TWEN
TWENTY THIRD EVENING.
Father. The dawn of day had scarce redden'd the ut
most verge of the eastern horizon, when Robinson roused
his companion, in order to finish the work, which they
had begun the day before. They worked during the day
with so much assiduity, that by evening they got their raft
in readineſs.
They had joined a double row of beams, partly with
ropes and partly with pliable and tough indian withes, so
that it formed a perfectly safe vehicle of about twenty foot
long and almost as broad. They had also used the precaus
tion, to make it close by the seaside and on rollers, that
they might without lofs of time, and without any great trouble
push it into the water.
?
At break of day the next morning the sea began luckily,
ebbing, and they did not lose a moment's time, to launch
their raft into the sea, and go with the tide to the strand◄
ed vessel; and in lefs than half an hour they were there.
f
How Robinson's heart jumped for joy, when he saw the
large european ship before him! He had almost kissed the
side of it for joy, because it came from his country and
had been built and brought hither by Europeans! But alas!
these beloved Europeans themselves were not to be found,
and had perhaps been swallow'd up by the waves! This
afflicting thought highly grieved poor Robinson's heart. He
X S
would
258
would willingly have given half his future life, if he could
have recover'd the lost crew, and have sail'd with them to
Europe! But that being an impossibility, he had nothing.
better to do, than to save as much as he could of the load-
ing, and employ it to his greater conveniency.
Theophilus. But might he take any of those goods that
were not his own?
Father. What do you think, John, might he?
John. Yes, he might take them out of the ship, and
carry them on shore; but if the owners were found, he
was obliged to return them.
Father. Very right! For if he did not take out the goods
they would by degrees become a prey to the waves. There.
fore he might also without any scruple appropriate to him.
belf, whatever he needed most, and account for it to the
owners, if ever they appeared, for the trouble and labour
he had been at, in saving the cargo.
!
As to stranded ships in general, it is a point agreed upon
among some civilized nations, that the goods saved are al
ways divided into three shares. One share falls to the own-
ers, if they be alive, or to their heirs, if they be dead;
the second falls to him who has saved the goods; and the
third to the sovereign of the country.
to
Nicholas. To the sovereign? Why does he get any of them?
Father. This is a question to which I can not at present
However I may tell you
give you a very satisfactory answer.
something, which you can already comprehend. The King
or the Prince, or whatever title the sovereign of a country
may have, maintains certain people on the sea • coast,
take care,
that nothing be robbed from such a stranded vess
sel, and that every thing, which is taken out of it, be
carried to a place of safety. Without this precaution the
merchant, to whom the cargo belongs, would seldom get
any thing back again, because the goods would be either
spoil-
259
spoiled or stolen. Now the people appointed for this pur-
pose, are paid by the sovereign of the country; it is there
fore just that those should pay for it, who reap the advan.
tage of this useful establishment. It has therefore been agreed
upon, that a third part of the goods saved should fall to
the share of the sovereign, and this regulation is called: the
laws of wreck and salvage.
as his lawful
Consequently Robinson had a right to claim two thirds of
the goods, which he could get on shore,
property, and use them as he should think fit.
John. Two thirds?
Father. Yes, one for his trouble and labour, the second
as sole and lawful sovereign of the island, near which the
ship had stranded.
Dick. But who made him lord of the island?
Father, Common sense. A piece of land, that never was
in any body's possession before, naturally belongs to him,
who first takes possession of it. And that was the case here.
What Robinson mostly wished for, after recovering from the
violent sensations of joy at the sight of an european ship,
was, that she might be unshatter'd and get afloat again. In
this case he was firmly resolved to go on board of her with
Friday, and sail at least to some european plantation in
America, in case he could not get to Europe, however
dangerous it might be, to venture himself on the open
sea on board of a large unmanned vessel and without any
knowledge of navigation. He therefore went round the ves
sel on his raft, to examine the bottom under the water;
but be soon found to his great sorrow, that it was not pos▪
sible she could get afloat again; for the storm had cast her
between two rocks, where she was so jamm'd in, that she
could neither move backward or forward. Here she must
therefore remain, till the raging wares should by degrees
dash her to pieces. Robinson finding himself frusrated in
X 4
I
his
200
bis hopes, bastcu'd on board to see, what the cargo con.
sisted of, and whether that were yet undamaged. The fright,
which poor Friday got before, was still so fresh in his me.
mory,
that he could scarce resolve to follow his master
upen deck. However he follow'd hin; but not without
tren blir
g. particularly as the horned monster was the first
object, that presented itself to his view.
But the horned monster was not now so fierce as it had
been the day before. It now lay quite spiritlefs, as if una”
ble to rise, because no body had given it any food for three
days. Robinson, who suspected the cause of its weaknefs'
first took care to find some food for the poor starved ani.
mal, As he was perfectly well acquainted with the inward
construction of a ship, he soon found what he look'd for,
and had the pleasure to see, that the goat devoured the
fodder, be bad flung before her with great eagerness. In
the mean time Friday stared at the figure of this unknown
animal.
i
Now Robinson began a regular search. He went from one
cabin into another, every where between decks, and saw
a thousand things, that are scarce looked at in Europe,
but that were of unspeakable value to him now. There were
great casks full of sea biscuits, rice, flour, corn, wine,
gunpowder, balls and shot; there were cannons, firelocks,
pistols, swords and culasses; moreover hatchets, saws
chisels, gimlets, rasps, planes, hammers, iron bars,
nails, knives, scissars, needles; there were pots, di-
shes, plates, spoons, fire tonge, bellows, porringers
and other wooden, iron, pewter and copper kitchin uten-
sils lastly there were whole chests full of clothes, linen,
stockings, shoes, boots and a hundred other things, for
every one of which our ravish'd Robinson would willingly
have given his long forgotten lump of gold, if one or other
of these things had been offer'd him for sale,
Fris
261
.
Friday stood staring at all these objects, because he had
never seen any thing like, and could not gueſs the use of the
greater part of them. Robinson on the other hand was quite
in extasy. He wept b) for joy, and as a little child he
snatched every thing he saw, and threw it down again as
600n as his eyes fell on an object, that seemed more desi
rable. At last he was going down into the hold: but he
found it full of water, because the ship had sprung a leak.
Now he began to muse with himself, what he should
bring with him this time; but for a considerable time he
could not resolve upon any thing. Now he thought one
thing the most needful, and then again another, and there.
fore he often rejected, what he had just before chosen,
aad took another in the place of it. At last he chose the
following things, as the most valuable, to be taken on
shore for this time, viz: 1) A barrel of gunpowder, and
another of shot; 2) Two firelocks, two brace of pistols,
two swords and two cutlasses; 3) Double cloathing from
head to foot for himself and Friday; 4) Two dozen of
shirts; 5) Two hatchets, two saws, two planes, a couple
of iron bars, hammers and some other tools; 6) some
books, paper, ink and pens; 7) A tinder box, with mat.
ches, tinder and flints; 8) A cask full of biscuits; 9) some
sail- cloth; and. 10) the goat.
Frederic. Oh he had no great need of the goat!
as
Father. That's true, Frederic, but the goat had great
need of him, and Robinson was too compassionate towards
all living creatures, to leave the poor animal on board,
he did not know, whether the ship might not be dashed to
pieces by a storm, before his return, particularly as he had
room enough on his raft for the most necessary things. He
therefore took her along with him.
X 5
Од
b) to weep.
262
On the contrary he left something, which the people in
Europe would have seized the first of all: a small cask full
of gold dust, and a box full of diamonds, which he had
found in the Captain's cabin. It never once struck him to
take them with him; because he could find no manner of
use for them.
He had spent so much time in searching, opening, un.
packing, rejoicing, choosing and loading, that he had but
an hour till the returning tide. He was obliged to wait till
then, because he could not well gain the shore without it.
This hour Robinson spent in dining after the european
fashion,
-
For this purpose he fetch'd a piece of smoak'd beef, a
couple of herrings, some biscuit, butter, cheese and a bott
le of wine, then he put all these things upon the table in
the cabin, and sat down in company with Friday on the
chairs,
that were standing about it. It was a greater joy
for him than I am able to describe, that he could once
more sit at a proper table, on a chair, and have a plate,
knife and fork to help themselves with: and to compleat
all, the victuals, particularly bread, which he had so of
ten longed for in vain, ohr you can not imagine how all
this delighted him! To have a compleat idea of all the joy
he felt, one should like him be nine whole years deprived
of all such victuals and conveniencies.
Friday was so little used to the european manner of living,
that he did not know, how to handle a knife and fork,
Robinson shew'd him how to use them; but when he was
going to imitate him and to put a bit of meat on the point
of his fork, he carried the bit of meat, as he had been
hitherto accustom'd up to his ear, and the handle of the
fork to his mouth. He would by no means drink any of the
wine, which Robinson offer'd him, because his palate,
which had hitherto been used to nothing but water, could
not
263
1.
not bear the strength of any liquor. The biscuit on the cons
trary was very much to his taste.
Now the tide was coming in; they both therefore got
down upon their raft, and put to sea, that they might
reach the shore with the return of the tide. In a short time
they landed, and hasten'd to bring their goods on shore.
Friday was very curious to know, what all these things
were, and of what uses they could be? The first thing Ro
binson did to satisfy his curiosity, was this: he stept be
hind a bush, put on a shirt, stockings and shoes and a
complete officer's uniform; then putting a laced hat on his
head, and a sword by his side, he suddenly appear'd be-
fore the astonished eyes of Friday. The poor fellow quite
stupified started back some paces, because at first sight he
really doubted, whether he saw his master, or some other
supernatural being, Robinson, who could not forbear smil.
ing at his astonishment, kindly reached him his hand, as-
suring him, that he was still the same Robinson and his
friend, tho' his clothes and circumstances were altered,
After which he took a whole sailor's drefs, shew'd him, how
to put on every particular piece, and desired him to retire
behind the bush and drefs himself likewise.
Friday obey'd; but how long was he dressing. Sometimes
he put one thing on the wrong way, and sometimes another.
In putting on his shirt, for instance, he first put his legs
thro' the sleeves, as if he had put on a pair of breeches..
He did the same with the breeches, putting in his feet at
the wrong end, and also with his jacket, which he tried
to button behind. By little and little he perceived his mis-
take and corected it, till after many fruitless attempts he at
length got ready with his whole drefs.
When he saw himself thus changed and perceived, how
commodious this dreſs was, and how well it would preserve
him
264
་
him from the stings of the moschitos, he began to jump
about for joy like a child. Only the shoes did not please
him, because he considered them as superfluous and in-
convenient. He therefore begged leave to pull off again,
which Robinson left to bis free option.
Now he shew'd him the use of hatchets and other tools,
at the sight of which Friday was beside himself for joy and
admiration. They began to make immediate use of them,
in cutting a small mast for their raft; that they might for
the future use a sail, and not be obliged to wait always
for the tide. Robinson undertook this work alone and sent
Friday in the mean time to his habitation to milk the lamas
which they had been forced to neglect these two days.
During Friday's absence Robinson loaded one of the mus
kets, because he had reserved to himself the pleasure of
surprising his friend with the wonderful effect of gunpowder.
When he was now returned, and wondering, that Robin.
son had done his work so soon, the latter discovered a gull
flying with a fish in his bill. He immediately took up his
fire-lock and cried out: Mind me, Friday, I'll fetch him
down! He had scarce pronounced these words, when he
drew c) the trigger, and down came the gull to the ground.
Figure to yourselves Friday's astonishment and terror! He
fell down, as if he himself had been shot, because his for
mer superstition of the Toupan or thunderer suddenly reviv.
ed, and in the first moment of his fright, he thought his
master was the thunderer. He fell down, as I said before;
then he raised himself upon his knees, stretching his trem
bling hands out towards Robinson, as if he would beg for
mercy; for he could not speak. Robinson was far from
making a joke of any thing that regards religion. He there
fore no sooner perceived Friday's error but he was sorry,
that
s) to draw.
265
that he had not before acquainted him with what he intend
ed to do; and hastened to clear up his mistake. He kindly
raised his trembling Friday, embraced him, and begged him,
not to be afraid, adding he would presently show him,
bow to make such thunder and lightening, which were a
thing quite natural. Then, after having explained to him
the different parts of the fire lock, and the nature and effect
of gunpowder, he loaded the piece in his presence, and
put it into his hand, to let him fire it himself. But Fri-
day, who was still too fearful, begged him, to do it in
his stead. Upon which Robinson fixed a mark at two hun•
dred feet distance, placed himself next to Friday. and fira
ed the piece oft.
Friday was again very near falling down to the ground:
for what he heard and saw appear'd quite supernatural to
him. Many grains of small shot had lodged in the mark,
and penetrated pretty deep into the wood, which Robinson
having made Friday observe, he let him conclude, how
safe they would be for the future against all the attacks of
the savages, since they had this artificial thunder and ligh-
tening in their power. From this and all he had seen on
board of the ship, Friday conceived such a profound res
pect for all the Europeans, and particularly for his master,
that for some days he could not resume that air of familia
rity, which he had hitherto kept up with his friend.
>
In the mean time night approached, and put an end to
the business of this joyful day.
F
TWEN
;
TWENTY FOURTH EVENING,
To the great satisfaction of the children, the father, with
out making any preface the next evening, pursued his narra.
tive in the following manner:
as that
Robinson had never before slept a) so well,
night; for since the first day of his solitary abode in this
island, he had never been so happy as he felt himself now.
Neither is it possible, that man ever felt sincerer gratitude
and love for his heavenly benefactor, to whom he owes his
happiness, than he did. When alone, he would often fall
on his knees, and thank his bountiful heavenly Father for
having bestowed upon himso many things! He likewise endea-
voured to instill such pious sentiments of gratitude into the
heart of Friday. Before they went to bed, he taught b) him
the hymn: Now thank ye all the Lord! and then they
both raised their voices to the praise of their supreme Bene.
factor.
The next morning they rose very early, placed all their
things in a thicket, and covered them with boughs, for in
case it should happen to rain; and when the sea began to
ebb, they left the chore to go on board of the wreck.
what does that signify?
Frederic. A wreck
Father, A ship that is stranded and partly dash'd to pie-
Cesa
•
a) to sleep. b) to teach.
267
ces. As they had the day before brought off a couple of
oars with them, which I forgot to mention, they now went
much quicker, than the first time. They got safe on board;
and the first thing they did, was o gather all the boards
they could find, and to let them down on the raft, on
which they placed them as a floor two boards thick, in
order to preserve the goods, they intended to take on shore,
from being wet,
as they had been the day before,
Now Robinson examined every thing over again, in order
to make a prudent choice among the different things, which
he could not take on shore at once. This time his choice
was attended with lefs difficulty, as he had already carried
the most necessary things on shore. Yet he acted again with
the same precaution, as he had done before.
Among other things he this time resolved to take one of
the six small pieces of cannon on shore, which he had
found on board of the vessel.
John. A cannon?
something more useful!
Why I think he might have taken
Father. So it seems to us, who judge of his situation
at a distance; whereas Robinson, who considered it more
nearly, found this cannon an essential implement to make
his mind easy.
John. How so?
Father. The place, where he first deposited what goods
he had brought on shore, was not fortified, and besides not
far from the spot, where the savages generally landed. It
is true, he might now with pretty good confidence rely on
the defence he could make with his firelocks and pistols,
in case of an attack; but the idea, that he should then be
again under the dismal necessity of killing some of these
poor savages, made him shudder whenever he thought of
it. Now, it he had a cannon, he could fire a ball over
their heads, in case they should approach his island in
Y 2
their
268
their canoes, the fear of which would make them turn back
again.
Do you see, my lad, how unsafe it is 10 pretend judging
of other people's conduct? We very seldom know the mo•
tives of other people's actions, how dare we then presume to
judge of them? A wise man is therefore very slow and cau
tious in judging of other people, he will never do it with
out some particular calling, because he has enough to do
in thinking and judging of his own actions; and for the fu
ture we will do so too, my children!
·
Besides the piece of cannon Robinson and Friday took
this time the following articles on their raft: a bag full of
rye, an other full of barley, and a third full of pease; a chest
of nails and screws; a dozen of hatchets ; a barrel of gun-
powder, with balls and small shot; a sail, and a grindstone.
Theophilus. What could he do with that?
Father. Sharpen his hatchets, knives and other tools,
when they needed it.
Theophilus. Why,
Why, had he no stones in his island?
Father. Stones in plenty; but no grindstones. Have not
you observed that these are of a particular sort, and much
softer than other stones?
Theophilus. Yes, yes.
Father. Well, he had not as yet met with any such soft
stone in his island; and yet such a grindstone is a very
useful and necessary thing for such as use sharp tools.
He therefore, preferred it, without any hesitation, to the
gold dust and diamonds, which he again left behind.
·
Before they returned on shore, Robinson examined the
state of the ship, and found, that the water had risen so-
mething higher in the hold, and that some of her side planks
were loosen'd by the waves and by her rubbing against the
rock. He foresaw that she would be quite dash'd to pieces
by the first storm. This made him the more eager to save
whatever he could of her cargo.
As
269
As the wind now blew e) towards the land, they got on
shore by the help of their sail and oars, tho' the tide had
:
scarce half done ebbing. On their way Robinson made
himself reproaches, a proof of his honesty.
Dick. And for what did he blame himself?
Father. For not having carried away the gold and dias
monds.
Dick. And what could he do with them?
Father. For himself he could make no use of them, but
he thought it not quite impossible, that the master of the
ship might be still alive, and return to see, whether he
could not
save something. Now if a sudden storm should
arise and destroy the ship, before he could return to it,
and the gold and jewels should be lost d) how, thought
he, could justify myself to the owner, to God, and my
own conscience, for having saved such things only,
may be useful to me, and neglected what is most valuable
to the real master of all these things? on which perhaps
his and many other people's whole fortune may depend?
Robinson! Robinson! added he, slapping his forehead
with indignation, how far art thou yet from being as good
as thou oughtst to be?
as
He had scarce patience to wait till they reached the
shore, but he again wished to return on board; so great
was the uneasiness of his conscience, because he had ne
glected a duty, which justly seemed sacred to him!
At last they arrived; but the moment they reached the
shore, their lading was near tumbling into the sea. As the
tide was still ebbing, the water near the shore was so
shallow, that the forepart of the raft ran at once upon the
sand, and was consequently much higher than the hind-
part, which was on the water. Robinson and Friday stood
Y 3
e) to blow. d) to lose.
luc.
270
luckily behind, and could therefore prevent the cargo from
slipping into the water.
After having fasten'd every thing, they were obliged to
wade thro' the water and mud, to get their things on
shore. This they did so very expeditiously and carefully, that
nothing was lost, and that they had time to go on board
again before the return of the tide.
Robinson was no sconer on board, but he made all poss
sible haste to get the small cask of gold-dust and the box
with diamonds, and to carry them down upon his raft. So
his heart was relieved of a heavy burthen and this duty
being perform'd, he thought he had a right to provide for
himself again.
1
This time he took a couple of wheel barrows along with
him, which he found on board, tho' I can not conceive,
for what purpose they had been: besides a quantity of
clothes and linen, many tools and utensils, a lantern, to
gether with all the papers he found, in the Captain's cabin.
As the tide was now returning, they sailed back again,
and as they were driven forward by wind and tide, they
soon reached the shore. The remaining part of the day Ro•
binson dedicated to an occupation, which seemed indispen-
sably necessary to him. He trembled at the thought, lest
some heavy shower of rain might fall, and render his grea
test treasure, his gunpowder useless. To prevent this
danger, he resolved to make a tent that same day of the
sail, which he had brought along with him, and to secure
all his riches against the rain under it.
As he now had scissars, needles and thread, this work
went on very expeditiously, and Friday soon learned enough
to be able to assist him. He could not sufficiently admire
the inestimable invention of needles and thread, and con-
fessed repeatedly, that he and his countrymen, in com
pa.
271
parison with the skilful Europeans, were but ignorant fel-
lows.
Their work was completed before night fall; and then
Robinson had the pleasure, of showing Friday the astonish
ing effects of a cannon. He charged it with a ball and plaż
ced it so, that the ball might skim along the surface of the
water, to let Friday see distinctly, how far it would go.
Now he fired it, and tho Friday was prepared for this spec
tacle, by his having seen him fire his musket twice,
yet
he was again so frigten'd at this still more dreadful report
of the cannon, that all his limbs trembled. The ball skim-
med along the surface of the sea, till it was out of sight at
an immense distance. Friday assured him, that such a sin.
gle shot would make all his country-men run away,
tho
there were thousands of them, because they would take him,
who could make such thunder, for the Toupan.
When it was dark, Robinson lighted a candle, to look
if
over the papers he had brought from the ship, and see,
he could not discover, to whom the ship belonged and for
what place she had been bound. But unluckily the writings
as well as the books were composed in a language, which
he did not understand. How greatly did he now regret his
having neglected the study of foreign languages? But this
repentance came too late.
However one circumstance gave him some light concerning
the ship's destination and the object of her voyage. He found
a couple of lettres directed for Barbadoes, an island in the
West Indies, where there is a great trade with slaves.
Frederic. A trade with slaves?
Father. I will tell you, what it is. In Africa - don't
you remember where that Fies?
Frederic. Oh! yes, that way, over the green bridge
and the geese e) green! Well, and
e) the goose.
Fa
272
Father. In Africa then, where the negroes live, most
of the people are still as uncivilized and wild as brutes.
Their chiefs or kings,
who are no less savage, treat them
therefore, as if they really were brutes. Now when the
Europeans come there, they offer them whole herds of
these black people for sale, just as we sell cattle in our
markets. Many fathers even bring their children to sell them
for trifles. Thus the Europeans buy a great number of them
every year, and carry them to the West-Indies, where
they are used for hard labour, and are at the same time
but very poorly kept. Such a slave (so they call these un.
happy people) is there in a very bad situation, and would
often rather choose to die than live.
Theophilus. But it is not at all well done to use men so!
Father. It is indeed very wrong, it is also to be hoped,
that this abominable trade with slaves will be abolished in
time.
Robinson found moreover an account, by which he could
perceive, that there had been at least a hundred of such
slaves on board of the ship, and were to be carried to Bar.
badoes. He made Friday comprehend all these things, and
added: who knows, whether these unhappy people do not
owe their deliverance to that storm, which drove f) their
vessel on the rock?
the rock? Whether they have not reached some
island by means of their boats, where their tyrants have no
more power over thean, and where they may, in their own
live very happy and contented?
way,
Friday did not find this in the least improbable.
Well now Friday! added Robinson, whilst his face be.
gan to glow; have you still the heart to repeat the question
you lately asked me?
Friday. Which?
f) to drive.
Ro.
273
Robinson. Of what use that storm might be, which carà
ried away our boat?'
Friday was ashamed, and cast down his eyes with a re
pentant look.
Upon which Robinson cried out with pious zeal: O Fris
day! acknowledge the hand of the almighty and all-wise
God, which has again appeared sensibly in this affair! See
how much the storm was to return us for the trifle it had
taken away! Look at this provision of necessaries, fit to
make our lives commodious and happy; should we have all
these things, were it not for the storm? It is indeed af
flicting to owe one's happineſs to the misfortunes of other
people; but suppose most of them that were on board of
the stranded vessel live now much happier, than before?
And it is not in the least improbable, that this is really the
case! What do you think now of the divine government of
the world?
That is unspeakably wise and good, and that I was
a fool!" replied Friday, folding his hands and lifting his
eyes up to heaven, to pray God to forgive the sins, which
he had committed through ignorance.
Robinson kept all the writings, which he had been look◄
ing over, with as much care, as he did the gold and the
jewels; that, in case he ever returned to Europe, he might
by their means be able to find out, to whom he should res
turn the treasures he had saved.
For six days successively they continued to return to the
wreck twice or thrice daily, and fetch'd every thing on
shore, which they could master. A thousand trifles, which
we should scarce have thought worthy to look at, because
we never yet felt the want of them, were important to them
and accordingly taken on shore. One part of the cargo con▪
sisted of ivory; which they left on board, because they
could make no use of it. They also left behind some casks
Y 5
}
of
274
of coffee, which Robinson scorned to take, because he
did not intend ever to accustom himself again to such su•
perfluous and noxious delicacies. On the other hand they,
endeavour'd to get as many planks as ever they could break
loose, because they appear'd to him to be more useful, and
consequently more valuable. They even carried the five re-
maining guns on shore, as also all the iron they could find
or break loose.
Now after having made eighteen trips and every time with
the best succefs, they perceived, when they were again
on board of the wreck, that there was a storm rising. They
made therefore all possible haste to compleat their loading.
and left the wreck in hopes of reaching the shore before the
storm came on. But their endeavours proved fruitlefs. Be
fore they were half way, there arose so violent a storm with
thunder lightening and rain, that the waves rolled
over the raft, and washed every thing upon it into
the sea. They held g) themselves for some time so that the
foaming waves could not wash them over board, tho' now
and then they went above a yard over their heads.
But at length their weak-built raft could no longer resist
the fury of the waves. The ligatures, by which the beams
were fasten'd together, gave way,
parated.
Charlotte. Oh, poor Robinson!
All. Oh be quiet, be quiet!
and the whole raft ses
Father. Friday endeavour'd to save himself by swimming,
Robinson on the contrary got hold of a beam, with which
he was sometimes plunged into the deep, and sometimes.
lifted up on high. He was oftener under water, than above,
and, quite stunned, so that he could neither see
hear. At last his strength forsook ) him together with the
knowledge of himself. He gave a loud cry, and then dis◄
g) to hold. h) to forsake.
nor
ap-
275
appear'd under a monstrous wave, which tore him from his
beam.
he
Happily his faithful Friday had been constantly near him,
tho' he might have saved himself much sooner, if he had
chosen it. When he saw his master go to the bottom,
did not hesitate a moment, but dived do vn, seized him
by his left hand, and worked himself upwards with his right.
And now be exerted his utmoct endeavours to such a de-
gree, that in a few minutes he got on shore together with
the corpse of his dear master,
All. (quite alarmed) Oh, oh the corpse?
Father So I call it, because there did not appear any
remains of life in him.
Friday carried the pale corpse on shore, threw i) him.
self upon him in a fit of despair, called him, sbook ) him,
rubbed his whole body, and pressed his lips above ten ti.
mes on his mouth in order to blow breath into him. To his
unspeakable joy he at length perceived some symptoms of
life returning; he continued his endeavours, till Robinson
recover'd his senses.
دو
Where am I? said he at last in a weak and trembling
voice, opening his eyes again." In my arms, dear mas-
ter!" answer'd Friday, whose tears gushed down his cheeks.
And now it was an affecting scene. Whilst Robinson
was thanking his deliverer, Friday did not know, what to
do with himself for joy at his dear master's return to life.
my children, I think we can not break off our
story with any thing better; so enough for to day,
And now,
) to throw. 4) to shake.
TWEN.
TWENTY FIFTH EVENING.
Several obstacles had occurred, by which the Father was
prevented from continuing the narration. In the meau time.
the society of the young people was increased by six new
membres, wose names were: Mathew, Ferdinand, Con-
rad, Jack, Christopher and Charles.
Now there arose 7) a great bustle among the elder ones;
which of them should relate to their new friends, what they
had already heard of Robinson.. One knew this, and the
other that part of the story, then again one had omitted a
circumstance, and the other another, for which he was in-
terrupted by a third, to fill up the chasm in the relation.
Now as they thus all talked together, it occasion'd such a
confused noise, that one could not hear one's own voice.
To put an end to this confusion, the father saw himself
obliged to relate the story over again, till he came to that
period where he had left off. Then he continued to the ge
neral satisfaction as follows:
Now, my children, our Robinson is once more reco
ver'd. The sleep, he enjoy'd over night in his tent, on real
beds, has so refreshed bin, that he now stands again at
break of day in his full bodily strength, pouring forth his
praises to the almighty God for the preservation of his health
and
7) to arise.
277
and life. The storm had continued raging the whole night,
He had therefore waited for day light with impatience to
see what was become of the wreck.
At last the sun arose, and now he saw to his great sor
row, that the wreck had quite disappeared. Single planks
and beams, lying scatterd on shore, show'd, that it had
been entirely dashed to pieces by the storm. At the sight
of which he found himself happy in the consciousness of
his having spared no trouble, to save as much of the cargo
as ever had been possible; and happy is the man, who re-
gulates his conduct so wisely, that on every occurring dis-
agreeable accident, he can say to himself like Robinson:
It is not my fault!" this consciousness greatly assu-
ages things, that otherwise would extremely embitter our
,,
hearts!
Robinson and Friday now gather'd all the remaining pie
ces of the ship, which they found on the strand, because
they foresaw,, that every board and every plank would bə
useful to them. They now formed a regular plan for their
future occupations.
The things were now to be conveyed to the castle; but
to leave them alone, whilst they were removing them,
seem'd dangerous. Robinson therefore disposed, that they
should alternately watch the goods, and carry some to the
castle on a wheel-barrow; and that one was to work in
the morning and the other in the afternoon. He charged
the guns and placed them near the seashore with their
muzzles towards the sea. Then they made a fire, that was
to be kept up by him, who stood sentinel by their guns,
They had also a match in readineſs to fire them in case of
need.
Robinson made the beginning in removing the things to
the castle. He now likewise put on a common sailor's dreſs,
in order to spare the better sorts of clothes, and instead of
Z
his
278
his former arms, he now wore a) nothing but a cutlafs and
a brace of loaded pistols in his girdle. He first took some
small casks of gunpowder and other things, that were most
liable to be spoiled by the rain; and thus he proceeded on
his journey. The dog too, which never left him, was by
no means a quite useless companion.
Robinson had fasten'd a rope round his breast, which
was again tied to the wheelbarrow, that he might assist
his master by drawing. Now as spaniels are naturally very
tractable, he soon got used to his new employment, and
did his businefs as well, as if he had been an old cart.
horse. He carried moreover a bundle between his teeth,
which he had been taught to do before.
At his return Robinson took all his tame lamas, that had
already been used to carry burthens, to employ them in
removing the goods. As there were seven of them, and each
was able to carry one hunderd and fifty pounds weight, you
may easily calculate, how much this whole caravan could
transport at once.
But as Robinson's cave was not spacious enough to con-
tain so many things, they quickly pitched a second tent in
the yard of the castle, to serve as a store-house in the
interim, till they had more leisure. In the space of eight
days the whole was removed, except a heap of boards,
which they carried into a close thicket to be left there for
the present.
Charlotte. Why, Papa, you did not tell us any thing
more about the goat?.
Father. I had almost forgotten her. Well, the goat was
taken along with them, as you may easily imagine, and
put into the inclosure among the tame lamas, with which
she agreed very well.
to wear
And
279
And now Robinson and Friday had agreeable occupations
in abundance, so that they scarce knew, where to begin
first. But Robinson, who loved an orderly and regular di-
vision in his businefs, quickly distinguished between the
more and lefs necessary occupations and proceeded first to
the former. The most necessary of all was the building of
a sted or a barn, to keep those things, for which they had
по room in the cellar, more conveniently and safer, than
could be done under the tent. Now the point was, to
exercise themselves in carpenters-work, which indeed none
of them had learned,
But what could now be too difficult for our industrious
and skillful Robinson, now that he saw himself in posses
sion of all the tools he wanted? The most troublesome work
which he had never been sccustomed to.
was now a trifle
to him, after he had succeeded in so many other things
without either tools or assistant. He now felled trees, squari
ed them, he joined and raised the beams, made the walls
of bricks, and a double roof on them, one of boards and
the other of cocao leaves; all this he did with surprising
dispatch.
Now the building was ready and bore some resemblance
to the small dwellings of our country people. Our Robin.
son had wisely brought the windows of the ship's cabin on
shore with him; and these now served to enlighten the
building without leaving any hole open. The glaſs was for
Friday an object of particular admiration, because he had
never seen any before, and he now perceived, what great
conveniency it affords.
Robinson now thought of contriving a convenient entrance
into his castle without impairing the strenght of it. The
making of a proper gate and drawbridge seemed to be the
best method. Now being provided with every thing requi
site as nails, chains, hinges, hasps, locks etc. in abun
dance,
Za
280
dance, he proceeded directly to the execution of his plan.
First they made every thing ready; then they cut an ope
ning in the wall, according to the size of the gate they had
finished. Hereupon they raised and fixed the gate, and the
bridge was so contrived, that, when drawn, it cover'd
the whole gate. Then they placed their six pieces of can
non loaded upon the wall so, that two commanded the right
flank, two the left and two the front of the castle. And
now they might be quite easy with respect to the attacks of
the savages, and they had at the same time the convenien
ce of a regular entrance into their habitation.
It was now harvest time, and Robinson used his old
sword instead of a sickle to cut down their maize; and to
take out the potatoes, he employed a pickaxe, he found
among the things, which he had fetch'd from the wreck.
All their work went on without any difficulty with the help
of these tools. It would have been a pleasure to have seen
them, and a still greater to have joined in their work.
Jack. I could wish to have been there, to assist them in
their work!
Dick. Oh, you need not go to a desert island for that!
You may find work here as well. You'll see, what Papa
gives us to do, when we have our leisure hours! Somes
times we carry smail wood into the kitchen, then again
we dig in the garden, or we carry water, to water the
plants, or we weed oh! there is always enough to
be done!
Father. And for what purpose do I set you so to work?
John. Why, to accustom us never to be idle, and be.
cause it makes us healthy and strong!
Christopher. Shall we work with you too, Papa?
Father. Certainly. I shall not love you lefs, than the
rest, and I shall consequently let you do every thing, which
I look upon as an useful occupation!
Char-
231
Charles. Oh that's excellent? Then we will be as dili-
gent as Robinson.
Father. Robinson, you know, found himself well in
doing so; and we shall all of us experience more and
more the happy consequences of an industrious life.
Now the hardest work was over. Robinson next made two
fails, taught Friday the use of them, and then they thrash
ed all their maize in one day. They got two sacks full
which is about two bushels. With biscuits they were well
provided for some months. But against that time Robinson
resolved to try to bake bread himself. He had brought a
small handmill on shore with him. Thus he only wanted a
fine sieve, to fift the flour, and an oven to bake the bread.
He was obliged to contrive both. To make a sieve, he took
some thin muslin, of which he had found a whole piece
among the goods saved from the ship and he thought it no
great difficulty to construct an oven. This work too he finish,
ed before the approach of the rainy season.
And now he made a double trial in baking; for he made
some loaves of rye and some of maize flour. But the former
seemed far more relishing; and now Robinson took his re-
solution accordingly, which was: to sow most of his fields
with rye instead of maize, that he
sufficient stock of rye to make bread.
require less work for him and Friday,
they might have two crops in the course of the year.
might always have a
This also seemed to
because in this island
They still wanted something, which they had not found
amongst the different articles on board, and which would
yet have been very useful, I mean a couple of iron
spades. It is true, Friday had made some of hard wood;
but better is better, and people may do a great deal more
with an iron spade, than with a wooden one. Now Robin»
son being determined to make husbandry for the future his
constant and chief occupation, it being the most agreeable
Zs
and
282
and useful business, he conceived the idea of constructing a
forge, in order to make spades and other useful instru-
ments too.
This idea was not so extravagant, as it may perhaps aps
pear to you; for every thing necessary to make a forge was
to be found in his storehouse, There was an anvil and se=
veral tongs,
a pretty large pair of bellows, and as much
old new iron ,
as would probably serve him all his life
time. This resolution was executed immediately.
By means of a larger roof above the kitchen, he enlarged
it so much, that it might serve him as a shop to work in;
even in rainy weather. They therefore employ'd part of the
rainy season in smith's work; and even this succeeded ad-
mirably after some miscarriages. When the spades were fi•
nished, Robinson proceeded still further and tried, whether
he could not invent a plough, suited to their strength. He
succeeded and his joy was inexpressible.
This plough was indeed very different from ours; it was
nade of a crooked branch of a tree, at the one end of.
which the plough share was fastened, together with the
handle, by which the ploughman might guide it at his plea-
sure; on the other end on the contrary the horses or oxen
ought to have been harnassed, if they had any. But now
this place was for one of themselves. In short this plough
was made exactly as those the Greeks made use of, when
they began to apply to husbandry.
Ferdinand. That must have been a curious plough!
Father. Perhaps lefs than you think. At first all instru
ments were
were as plain and as simple as this plough. By des
grees men conceived mare advantageous contrivances, alter.
ed, improved, and thus they continued to promote the
atility and convenience of those things, which they wanted
in their work.
However Robinson had sufficient reason to be rejoiced at
his
T
283
his invention, particularly, as it was all his own work: for
he had never seen any sketch of it. As far as we know,
many centuries passed, before men even conceived the iden
of inventing such a simple instrument, as this plough; and
the inventors of it were considered by their posterity as such
extraordinary wise men, that they paid divine worship to
their memory. Do you still remember, John, whom the
Egyptians look'd upon as the inventor of the plough?
John. Oh yes! Osiris; whom on that account they
afterwards worshipped as a God.
Father. The Phoenicians attributed this useful invention
to a certain Dagon, whom for that reason they also re-
garded as an extraordinary being, calling him the son of
heaven.
Nicholas. But might not Robinson have used his lamas
to draw the plough?
Father. At first he doubted, whether they would be fit
for it, becauce they seemed fitter for carrying, than for
drawing. However he would not leave this matter untried;
and lo! he succeeded beyond his hopes. These animals
accustomed themselves to it by degrees; and at last this
work succeeded so well, as if Robinson and Friday had been
thorough paced husbandmen and the lamas axen or asses.
Now they were in want of another instrument for the tile
ling of their fields, which they could not well do without
and which they had not found on board.
Ferdinand. I know, what that was.
Father. And what do you think?
Ferdinand. A harrow.
2
Father. Very right! The land can not be well cultivated
without it. This instrument breaks the clods, the seed falls
into soft mould, and is covered with it.3
In the first place Robinson forged as many iron teeth as
he thought necessary; and after some fruitlefs trials, be
also
ΖΑ
284
also completed the wooden frame, into which these iron
teeth were to be driven. At last he bored as many holes in
this frame as there should be teeth in the 'harrow, fixed
them into it, and the harrow was made.
The rainy season being over, he sow'd two bushels of
rye, one bushel of barley, and half a bushel of pease; and
after five months time he bad the pleasure of reaping twelve
times as much, that is twenty four bushels of rye, twelve
bushels of barley and six bushels of pease; which was much
more than he and Friday could consume in six months. But
like a prudent husbandman, he did not forget, that ke
ought always to have a store of provisions of every kind, be.
cause he might chance to have a bad crop, or it might be
destroy'd by bail or any other accident. He therefore resolve
ed to build a granary, in which he might always keep a
provision for six months in case a crop should happen
to fail.
For this purpose they again pulled down the roof of their
shed, whilst the weather continued fair, in order to make
it one story higher, which was to serve as a granary. This
indeed required more art and trouble than the ground floor
had done, but their continued and indefagitable industry
overcame all difficulties
all difficulties; and the work was finished in a
short time.
During these occupations their goat had two kids, 60
that this kind of animals was also propagated in the island.
The dog was their watchman; and Poll, the parrot, was
their companion at table, sometimes also at their work. But
the lamas were now more valuable to them, than ever :
because they did not only afford them milk, cheese and
butter, but helped them likewise to cultivate their fields.
Thus to compleat Robinson's happineſs, there was nothing
more wanting, than what do you think?
Theophilus, To be with his parents!
Fa.
285
!
Father. And that there were only two of them, one
of whom must sooner or later be expected to die, and leave
the other as a poor hermit separated from all the rest of
mankind. But Robinson thought it to be wrong to embitter
his life, by fearing misfortunes, that might possibly hap
pen. God, thought he, who has hitherto provided for
can help me further. And thus his life passed in uns
disturbed contentment because he now possessed inward
and outward tranquility. And may God grant every one of
you that state of mind!
me,
To which the mother added: Amen! and the company
withdrew.
76
TWEN.
TWENTY SIXTH EVENING.
Father. Now, my dear children, I have a great deal to
relate to you this time!
All. Oh excellent, excellentí
Father. If only I can finish it in one evening!
Somb. Oh! We will not interrupt you in your relation ;
and then you will certainly finish it.
Father. Well, I'll try. Prepare therefore for another
dreadful scene, the event of which no body can foresee.
(The children expressed their suppositions by their gess
tures.)
If I were to go on relating all what Robinson and Friday
performed every day by the help of their tools, I believe,
it would not greatly amuse you.
John. Oh it would; but every one can easily imagine
all that.
Father. I shall therefore only tell you, that by degrees
they succeeded so well in imitating the baker, the
smith, the tailor, the shoemaker,
the shoemaker, the carpenter, the
joiner, the wheelwright, the potter, the gardener, the
farmer, the hunter, the fisherman and many others,
that they learned to make a hundred kinds of things, for
which we indolent Europeans want the assistance of as ma
ny different people. Their strength encreased in proportion
as they exerted it; and during such continued useful occu-
pa
28%
:
pations their minds grew still more serene and more cheer-
ful. A proof, that God almighty must have purposely crea
ted us,
to be active, because it always makes us healthier,
better and happier.
They had now spent six months in such agreeable occua
pations, during which time Friday never ventured to remind
his master of their voyage to his country; tho', after their
work was over, he would often ascend the hill, from whence
he could see his native island and there he would stand
in a profound revery, sighing at the misfortune of being
perhaps for over separated from his father. Robinson oa
the contrary did not speak of it on purpose, because he
could not comply with the wish of his friend, till he had
made the necessary preparations, which their new way of
living required.
Now when the most necessary things were done, Robin
son was the first, to propose the building of an other boat,
to fetch Friday's father. The joy of the good lad at this
agreeable news was again as great, as lately, and he shew'd
his gratitude towards Robinson in the same manner as be
fore. Thus they began their work the very next morning
and now they very naturally worked ten times faster and bet-
ter than the first time, because they had now good hatchets
to work with.
One morning, whilst Robinson was very busy upon some
domestic occupations, he bade Friday go to the sea shore
to look for a turtle, as they had not for some time eaten
of this agreeable food. He had not been long gone, but
he returned in the greatest hurry almost out of breath with
running and fright, so that with a stuttering voice he could
only pronounce these words: There they are! there!
Oh
Robinson startled, and asked, who was there?
Master! Master! answered Friday, one, two, three,
six
288
!
six canoes!" In his fright he could not immediately recol
lect the number six.
six
Robinson ran hastily up to the top of the hill, and saw,
not without shuddering, what Friday had told him,
canoes full of savages on the point of landing. Upon which
he got down again, encouraged Friday, who was quite
dismay'd and then he asked him: whether he was resolved
to assist him faithfully, in case they should come to an en-
gagement with the savages?
**
With my blood and life ("he answer'd, being now come
to himself again, and having summon'd up all his
lour. Well then, said Robinson, we will try, whether
we can not prevent these monsters from executing their hor.
rible design. I'll tell you my intention as we go along; that
is not the time to talk, but to act."
Upon which he took one of the pieces of cannon, that
was on a carriage, from the wall, fetched six loaded mus◄
kets, four pistols, and two swords. Each of them fasten'd
two pistols, and a sword to his girdle, took three fire.
locks on his shoulders, and after having provided them.
selves with a sufficient quantity of powder and ball, they
marched off, dragging the cannon after them. And thus the
martial train went in silent and tremendous solemnity out at
the gate.
Having passed over the drawbridge, they halted. Then
Friday was dispatched to draw up the bridge, to fasten the
gate, and then to join his General by ascending the rope.
ladder, that was still hanging down from the steep rock.
Robinson took this precaution, that the enemy might not
take possession of their castle, in case their undertaking
should prove unsuccesful.
And now Robinson explained to Friday his well concerted
plan,,
We will," said be, march round the hill thro'
the thickest part of the wood,
"
that the enemy may not get
sighs
289
sight of us. Then we will get as near them, as we possi-
bly can, without being discovered, all along thro' the
wood, which goes almost close to the shore, and when
we are come to the skirt of it, we will fire a cannon-ball
over their heads. (For which purpose he had taken a burns
ing match along with him.) This will probably so terrify
these barbarians, that they will relinquish their prey, and
seek immediate shelter in their canoes.
17
Friday thought this supposition very probable.
,, Then," continued Robinson, ,, we shall have the sa
tisfaction of saving those unhappy people, whom they in
tend to roast, without shedding a drop of human blood.
But if, contrary to all probability, we should be disappoint..
ed in our hopes: if these canibals should rely on their
number, and make any resistance: then, dear Friday.
we must shew that we are men, and face the danger, to
which we have exposed ourselves with the best intention,
God, who sees every thing, knows, why we venture our
lives, and will certainly preserve them, if it be for our
good His will be done!"
Upon which he shook hands with his fellowcombatant,
and both vowed, faithfully to assist each other to the last
drop of their blood.
In the mean time they had almost reached the skirt of
the wood, as privately as possible, and now they stopped.
Here Robinson whispered to his companion, to repair be.
hind a thick tree, which he pointed out to him, with an
little noise as possible, and to bring him word whether
he could from thence overlook the enemy. Soon after he
eame back and informed him, that they could be observed
there perfectly well, that they were sitting about the fire
gnawing the broiled limbs of one of the prisoners, whom
they had already butchered: and that a second lay bound
on the sand at a little distance from them, whom they des
signed
A a
200
1 A
igned for their next feast; but he did not seem to be one
of his nation, but a white bearded man.
Robinson's soul was ready to sink within him upon hear
ing of the white man. He had a perspective glafs in his pock-
et, which he had found on board; with this he went soft.
ly behind the tree, and there he discovered, what Friday
had told him. Forty or fifty cannibals were close huddled
together about a fire, and he saw plainly, that the re
maining prisoner was an European.
Now he could scarce contain himself. His blood began
to boil, and his heart to beat; and if he had given way
to the impulse of his passion, he would have immediately
jumped forth, to fall upon them. But reason was stronger
with him, than blind passion; thus he suffered himself to
be led a) by the former, and check'd his indignation.
As the wood in an other place jutted further out towards
the shore, he took his stand there; planted his cannon
behind the last bush, which had a small opening, thoʻ
not to be discerned at a distance, and levelled it so, that
the ball went over the heads of the savages, without hurting
them. Then he whispered to Friday: to imitate him in
every thing.
Upon which he put down two of the muskets, keeping
the third still in his hand; Friday did the same. Then he
clapt b) the burning match to the touch hole of the can
пор, and bounce! - it went off.
The moment the report was heard, most of the savages
fell down on the ground, as if they had been all shot at
once. Robinson and Friday on the contrary in expectation
of the eyent, stood ready for battle in case of need, In
half a minute's time the stun'd savages rose again. The most
Lears
m) to lead," b) to clap,
291
fearful ran to their canoes, whereas the most courageous
took up their arms.
Unluckily they had neither perceived the flash of the potre
der nor the ball passing over their heads; and had only
heard the report. Their fright was therefore not so great
as had been expected, and after having looked about them,
and found nothing to frighten them again, they soon took
courage; the fugitives returned: they all set up a most dread
ful howl, and with the most horrible gestures and bran
dishing their weapons, they began their usual wardance.
Robinson was undetermined what to do, till the war-
dauce was ended. But when he saw to his astonishment,
that this savage company took their seats again, and that
two of them were deputed to fetch the poor European, it
was impossible for him to refrain any longer from action.
He looked at Friday, and only whisper'd these words to
him: Advance to the left, and I'll adyance to the right!
And now in the name of God! At these words he gave fre
at them; and Friday did the same.
•
Friday had taken his aim better, than Robinson; for
five fell on the left, and only three on the right side of the
fire. Three of them were really killed, and five only wound-
ed. The consternation with which all those, that were not
hurt, jumped up and ran off is not to be described. Some
ran one way, and some the other, howling most dreadfully.
Robinson was now ready to jump forth and defeat them en-
tirely sword in hand, in order to save his poor countryman,
that lay bound: but to his surprise he saw a party of the
fugitives rally, and prepare to defend themselves. He there-
fore took up the second fire-lock in the greatest hurry, and
Friday did the same. „Are you ready?" said Robinson;
and being answered in the affirmative, he gave a second
volley and Friday follow'd his example.
!
·་
This time there fell but two, but some others that were
A & o
more
292
more or lefs dangerously wounded ran yelling and screaming
about like mad creatures.
Three of them fell down soon
after, tho' not quite dead.
Now, Friday!" cried Robinson, throwing down the
musket he had just fired, and taking the third, that was
still loaded,,, advance!" At these words they both rush-
ed out the wood into the open plain, and Robinson first
ran up to the poor victim, to acquaint him of his delive
rance. When he came up to him, he perceived, that
Bome of the fugitives stopt at the sight of him, rallied again,
and prepared for battle. He made a sign to his companion,
who presently understood him, ran a little nearer towards
them, fired, and saw one of them fall.
In the mean time Robinson cut the strings of rushes,
with which the prisoner's hands and fest were tied in a
most pitiful manner. Upon which he asked him in German
and in English: who he was? and the prisoner answer'd
him in latin: Christianus, a Christian! Hispanus, a Span
iard! His faintness hiuder'd him from saying any more.
Luckily Robinson had taken a bottle of wine in his bag, in
case one of them, should be wounded, of which he gave
the spaniard some to drink: and as he soon found himself
strengthen'd by it, Robinson gave him one of his pistols
and a sword, that he might help them to dispatch the rest
of the enemy. Friday was in the mean time ordered to fetch
the muskets, which they had fired off, that they might be
loaded again.
The Spaniard had scarce got the pistol and sword, when
he fell furiously upon his enemies and in a thrice laid two
of them sprawling at his feet. Friday took the sixth gun,
that was still loaded, and ran to his assistance, whilst Ro-
binson was loading the rest. The two champions found great
resistance; and were soon separated;
soon separated; whilst the spaniard
and one of the savages got to close fighting, Friday, after
having
293
having fired his piece, ran sword in hand,
and drove c)
Some be cut
a whole swarin of the fugitives before him.
down, some jump'd into the sea, in order to swim to their
canoes, and others escaped into the wood.
The Spaniard had in the mean time a fierce encounter.
He had indeed, notwithstanding his weakneſs attacked the
savage with so much courage, that he had already wounded
him twice in the head: but now the savage grew enraged,
and prest d) so violently upon him with his heavy sword
of stone,
that he was scarce able to parry off his blows,
At last the savage got hold of him, flung him down, wrest-
ed the sword out of his hands, and was just going to cut
of his head with it, when Robinson, happily perceiving
the danger, fired a ball thro' the cannibal's head.
and besides most of them
Scarce had the Spaniard got on his legs again, but he
grasped one of the guns, that was again loaded, and went
with Friday in pursuit of those, that had escaped into the
wood. As these were but few,
wounded, Robinson thought proper, to remain on the field
of baule, rather than run after them, and to observe the
motions of the rest of the enemies, who had now reached
their canoes. In a short time his two fellow combatants re-
turned with the account, that there was not one left in
the wood.
Both of them were immediately stepping into one of the
canoes, which the savages had left, to pursue those, that
were endeavouring to escape with all the sail they could
make; but Robinson stopped them, saying: That's enough■
my friends We have already shed more human blood
than we ought perhaps to have done. Let the rest live, as
they have neither intention nor the power to hurt us any
more.
,, But,
*) to drive. 4) to prafs,
2g4
. Bot,
said Friday, they will perhaps return in multitu-
des and destroy us, if we let them escape!"
Well, said Robinson, tapping him friendly on the should
der, our army is now by one third stronger, than it was
this morning, pointing at the same time to the spaniard.
Now we can always face a whole legion of these wretches,
especially if we wait for their attacks behind our walls and
breast works.
Charlotte. That was again very laudable in Robinson,
not to kill the rest of the savages!
Father. It was indeed well done; for it would have been
cruel, to kill without the utmost necessity a single one of
those poor creatures, who had not the least idea, that,
what they did, was ill done; and who were even under
the sad mistake, to think it something meritorious to kill
and eat a great number of their enemies.
Christopher. Oh, they might very well have known,
that such actions are not allowed!
Father. And how could they have known that, my dear
Christopher?
Christopher. Why, the least child knows, that it is not
right, to kill and eat people!
Father. But whence does the child know that? Because
it has been taught 80,
is it not true?
Christopher. To be sure!
Father. Now let us suppose, it had not been taught so?
Suppose, even it's parents and other grown people, whom
the child loved and honoured, bad from it's infancy always
assured it, that murdering one's enemies and eating them
was something meritorious
Christopher. Nay, then-
}
Father. Then a child would hardly ever get a contrary
idea, is it not true? Such a child would rather, as soon
as it wag big enough, assist the rest in killing and eating.
And
295
And this was the case with these poor savages. Happy tor
us, that God almighty has not suffer'd us to live among
them, but to be born of civilized parents, who taught us
from our infancy, what is right and wrong, good and badt
Our humane hero went now with tears of compassion in
his eyes about the field of battle, to see, whether there
were not ene among those, who was not lifelefs and who
might be yet helped. But most of them were already dead,
and the rest soon died, whilst he was pouring wine into
their wounds, and endeavouring to
and endeavouring to comfort them every
possible way. There were in all twenty one dead. As to
the victorious army, not a man of them had fallen, nay,
not one of them was wounded; only the Spaniard was bruis'd
by his fall,
Matthew. But how did the savages get the Spaniard?
Father. Robinson bas had no time yet to enquire after
that; and therefore we must also suppress our curiosity till
to morrow.
All, What! finished already?
A a 4
TWEN
1
t
:
TWENTY SEVENTH EVENING.
Matthew. Well, Papa, how did the Spaniard get among
the savages?
Father. Have a little patience, and you shall hear it!
Something else happen'd in the mean time, which I must
first relate to you.
John. Well, what can that be?
Father. Robinson curious to examine one of the two ca.
noes they had left behind, went to the place where it was,
and to his great astonishment found another unhappy victima
lying in one of them, bound hand and foot just as the
Spaniard had been, with very little life in him.
Robinson made haste to unbind him, and was going to
lift him up. But he could either stand or speak, but whined
piteously, thinking they weIS now going to butcher
him.
As this man was a savage and no European, Robinson cal-
led Friday, who was then dragging the dead bodies toge
ther, desiring him to speak to him in his own country-
language. But Friday had scarcely looked fully in his face,
when a scene ensued, which Robinson and the Spaniard
could not behold without tears. Poor Friday was at once
beside himself. He threw himself into the captive's arms,
hugged him, cried, laugh'd, jumped about, danced, wept,
wrung his hands, beat his face and breast, then cried again,
and
297
and behaved in every respect like a distracted man, so that
it was
a great while, before Robinson could receive an
answer to his repeated question. At length Friday utter❜d:
He is my father.
It is impossible to describe all the marks of extasy and
filial piety of this good young man upon this occasion, Above
twenty times he jumped out of the canoe and into it again.
Then again he sat down, open'd his jacket, held his fa-
ther's head close to his bosom, to cherish it; sometimes
he chafed his arms and ankles, which were benumbed as
the strings were tight; then again he embraced his neck or
his waist, and cover'd him with caresses. Robinson, who
had a little wine left in his bottle, gave it him, to wash
his father's benumbed limbs; and then walked aside, to
let him indulge his joy.
When he returned a good while after, he asked him if
he had given his father any bread? The rascal has eaten
all!" answer'd Friday, pointing to himself. Upon wùich
Robinson gave him his own breakfast, which he had still in
his pocket, and Friday gave it to his father. He had scarce
'done so,
but he flew e) like lightening out of the boat and
ran off. Before Robinson could ask him, where he was
going, he was out of sight.
In a short time after he was seen returning, but much
slower, than he had run away. When he came nearer, he
was seen bearing an earthen jug with some water in one
hand,
and some bread and cheese in the other. The water
he gave his father, and the bread and cheese to his master,
to make amends for the breakfast he had given his father.
The fresh water revived the old man surprisingly, be.
cause he was almost fainting with thirst.
Now Robinson hastened to the Spaniard, who lay quite
A a 5
ex.
*) to By.
298
exhausted on the grafs He desired Friday to give him
something to drink, and offer'd him some bread and cheese
to refresh himself. The Spaniard looked up to him with a
friendly and grateful countenance; exerted himself to rise; but
not possible; so great was the pain he felt in the
knuckles of his hands and feet; that were extremely swell-
ed by the hard binding. Friday was order'd to sit down by
him, and rub and bathe his ankles with wine, as he had
done his father's.
it was
-
J
whilst
It was very moving to see, how this good son,
he was employed' in this, turned his head every monent
towards his father, to see how he did? When the old!
man had once laid himself flat down, in order to rest the
better, Friday flew to him, without saying a word, with
Buch swiftneſs, that he was scarce seen to touch the
ground; but finding, that his father only laid himself down
zo ease his limbs, he returned immediately. Upon which Ros
binson was going to try, whether he could not with Fri.
day's assistance lead the spaniard to the boat in order to be
conveyed to their dwelling: but Friday, being a young
tout fellow, took the spaniard on his back, as if he had
been nothing, and carried him alone to the boat. After
they had carried their cannon, and the firelocks together
with the arms of the slain into the other boat, Friday jump.
led again into the first; and tho' it had begun to blow a
Fresh gale, he row'd away with such rapidity, that Ro-
'binson, who walked along the shore, could not keep pace
with him. Robinson had scarce got half way home; when
he saw Friday running by him; to fetch the other boat;
and before he got to the place, where the first boat was,
with the sick men, Friday was back again with the second.
So great was his dexterity in running and rowing.
•
Now they were opposite to their castle; and Robinson
ran home to fetch a barrow, to carry the two sick men
O n
299
On this they placed them one after the other, and thus they
were transported to the castle. Oh, what a treasure for our
Robinson, who longed to have more human creatures about
him! How his heart palpitated for joy, when he reflected
that for the future he needed not fear, to be reduced to
the necessity of leading a solitary life again. His joy was
sucly as to bafile all description. Now they both appeared
in want of sleep, more than of any thing else. Whilst Friday
was preparing a bed for each of them, Robinson warmed
some wine, to wash their swelled ancles and knuckles.
After which they were put to bed.
And now our two hosts prepared a conifortable supper.
Friday was order'd to fetch a young lama, and Robinson took
care of the rest. He could not help smiling, when the
thought came into his head, that he was now still more like
an absolute king than before. He was master of the whole
island; and his subjects, who all owed their lives to him,
were entirely dependant on his will, and consequently obli-
ged to venture their lives and blood for him in case of need.
It was besides a very remarkable circumstance, that he had
just as many different religious sects, as he had subjects in
his dominions. Friday follow'd that cristian religion, which
he had taught him, and which the Protestants profefs. (The
Bigger of you know the signification of the word, and the
younger will have patience, till they get more understand.
ing, when
when they shall hear it too). Thus Friday, as I
said before, was a protestant, the Spaniard a roman ca-
tholick Christian, and Friday's father still a Pagan. What
is to be done in this matter?" thought Robinson to him.
self. .39
Have not I a right to force them to profeſs that
religion, which I think the best?" He reflected a while
on this matter, because it was a thing, he had never yet
thought of
And what do you think now, my children, to which side
of
300
of the question did his solid understanding incline? Had
he a right to force his subjects to profefs his Religion, or
not?
All. Oh, in no respect.
Father. Why not, pray?
John. Why, because it is nothing to any body, what
a person believes, if he does but live as he ought to do.
Father. But if a superior is aware, that his inferior is in
an error, should he then not have a right to force him, to
renounce his error.
Hans. Nay, what good would that do him? If he were
forced to believe, that would neither make him any wiser
nor better.
Father. Very right! for violence can never convince him,
that he was in an error before. And of what use can be
professing a beliet, the truth of which we are not convin
And then, how does the former know with such
certainty, that the latter, whom he is going to force to
embrace his belief, be in an error? could it not be possi
bie, that he himself were mistaken?
ced of?
Hans. Oh yes,
Father. Why?
Hans. Besause all men are subject to errors.
Father. Consequently no body must presume to think his
opinion an infallible truth!
Thus, my children, it belongs to God alone, as the
only infallible Lord of all, to be the judge of our belief.
He alone knows exactly, how much truth or error our opis
nions contain; he alone knows exactly, with how much
candour or levity we have searched after truth; he alone
knows therefore, how far we are guilty or innocent in our
errors.
Our Robinson considered the matter nearly in the same
light. Cursed, he therefore cried, cursed be that unreason.
able
301
able zeal of converting any body over to one's religion by
force! Cursed be the blind rage of persecuting and tortur-
ing one's brother, only because he is so unhappy as to be
in an error, and so virtuous, as to refuse professing any
thing publickly, of which he is not convinced in his heart
In my island at least this inhumanity shall never take place.
I will indeed do all I can to instruct my subjets but if I
should not be so happy as to convince them of their error,
and of the truth of my religion: they may believe, what
they can,
and be answerable for it one day, not to ine
their poor erring brother but to God almighty.
He therefore resolved to grant every one of them liberty
of conscience, in case, after proper instructions, they
should not think fit to follow one and the same religion.
Friday being now returned, they began to boil and roast.
This day, said Robinson, must be a double festival, be-
cause we have saved two of our brethren a) from the claws
of tigers in human shape, and because you, Friday, have
found your father. So the best we have, shall this day be
served on our table!
چه
Friday needed no encouragement to be cheerful. He had
never been so merry as to day. He sung, jumped and
laughed incessantly; yet he performed what he had to do
in the most nimble and orderly manner, and if people do
so, mirth is no fault.
80,
Now the two guests were awake. Tho' they felt some
pain yet, they were nevertheleſs already so refreshed and
strengthen'd, that they could get up with Friday's and Ro.
binson's assistance, and sit at table. And now the old sa-
vage appear'd as surprised, and astonish'd at the sight of all
these european things, as his son has been, when he first
saw them.
) i. q. brothers.
B b
Fri.
302
Friday served as interpreter, whilst Robinson conversed
with his father and the Spaniard.
Ferdinand. Did he understand spanish?
Father. No! But the Spaniard,
But the Spaniard, who had already lived
six months among the savages, understood so much of their
country -language, that he could understand him. The chief
contents of his story were as follows:
وو
Our ship was employ'd in the negro- trade. We were
returning from the coast of Africa, where we had barter'd
some gold dust, ivory and negroes for all kinds of Euro-
pean goods. We had taken an hundred slaves on board,
who were to be carried to Barbadoes and sold 6) there.
But twenty of them died, because they were pack'd together
like salt berings in a tub. A continual violent storm had
driven us from our course to the coast of Brasil, and our
ship having sprung e) a leak, we durst not keep the main
sea, but coasted along the continent. Suddenly we were
overtaken by another gale from the west, which drove d)
us with great fury from the continent, and cast us during
the night on some rocks near an island. We fired several
guns, and were resolved to stay on board as long as we
possibly could. We set the blacks free, that they might
assist us in pumping; but they searce saw themselves freed
from their incumbrance, but they unanimously seized our
boats, to save their lives and liberties.
"
What was to be done? to force them, was impossi•
ble for there were only fifteen of us, whereas there were
eighty of them, and besides many of them had seized our
arms. But staying on board of a stranded vessel without a
boat, was exposing ourselves to certain death. We there.
fore had recourse to intreaties, and endeavour'd to prevail
on those, who a short time before had been our slaves,
either
B) to sell. 6) to spring. d) to drive.
303
either to stay with us, or at least to take us with them.
And here I can not help praising the generosity and huma.
nity of these poor slaves. Tho' they had been used very
hard, yet they were moved with compassion towards us,
and gave us leave to come down to them, on condition,
that we should take no arms along with us. We accepted
their proposal, and got down into the boats, that were
ΠΟΥ so overloaded, that we expected to sink every mo-
ment.
"We were however endeavouring to reach the neighbour
ing island; bnt the wind shifting suddenly, drove us, in
spite of our utmost exertions in rowing, back to the main
sea. Our destruction now appeared no longer a matter of
doubt. But these overcharged boats, tos sed about by the
waves, carried us, to our great astonishment safe over
the sea, till we were at last quite unexpectedly thrown on
a quite unknown island, the poor inhabitants of which re-
ceived us with uncommon kindneſs.
,, Among these we have hitherto lived, every one as well
as he could: indeed but miserably, because these poor
savages have nothing themselves, but some fish, which
they catch, and a few fruit, which grow in their island.
Yet they let us share in what they had, and instructed us,
how to catch fish ourselves. Our blacks were most satisfied
with this way of living, because they were accustomed to
no better, and also because they had recover'd their li-
berty.
Some days ago the island was invaded by a neighbour.
ing nation. Every one took up arms, and we too thought
it our duty to assist our good benefactors. I fought e) by
the side of this honest old man, who, like a lion deprived
of his young ones, threw himself into the middle of the
Bb 2
one-
e) to fight.
304
enemy. I saw him surrounded, ran to rescue him, and had
the misfortune to be taken with him.
"
We have past two days and two nights in this dismal
captivity, bound hand and feet, without eating or drink-
ing. For they threw f) nothing but rotten fish before us
which the sea had cast up.
,, This morning at break of day we were dragged into the
canoes, in order to be conveyed by these monsters to an
other place, where according to their custom,
we were
to be butcher'd. But divine providence sent you, generous
men, for our preservation, and you conferred on us a bene.
fit, which we shall never be able to requite."
Here the Spaniard stopt, and tears of gratitude bedewed
his cheeks. Robinson was very glad to find his late con.
jectures so entirely confirmed, and Friday admired with him
the wisdom and goodneſs of divine providence.
The Spaniard on being asked, who was the real owner of
the cargo, answer'd, two merchants in Cadix; but one
of them only had given orders to buy slaves on the coast of
Africa; but the other, detesting this trafic, only desired to
have gold dust for his good.
Hereupon Robinson took the Spaniard by the hand, led
him into his store house, then into his cave, and shew'd
him, to his great astonishment, the most valuable effects
of the stranded vessel stowed in these places. Friday was
desired to tell him the particulars of it; and the Spaniard's
surprise was so great, that he could scarce utter a word.
Upon which Robinson enquired further, for whose ace
count the diamonds had been, and to whom the officer's
uniform had belong'd, which he had found on board? and
he was informed, they had been the property of an English
fficer, who had been many years in the Eastindies,
f) to throw
and
who
305
who was taken so ill on his return home,, that on his de-
sire he had been put on shore, on the coast of Africa
where he died. He had desired them to take his effects to
Barbadoes, from whence they were to be sent to England.
-Now Robinson shew'd the Spaniard all the papers he had
found on board; by which he learnt the name of the mer-
chant, to whom the gold dust pertained, as also that of
the officer's widow, to whom the diamonds and the clothes
of her deceased husband were to be restored. From that
moment Robinson looked upon the gold dust, diamonds
and papers.
as if they had been something sacréd.
It was now evening, and the fatigues and dangers of the
day had so much exhausted all their strength, that they
longed for the beneficial refreshment of sleep sooner, than
usual. They therefore did, what we will do, after hav.
ing thanked God for the uninterrupted tranquillity and hap-
pinefs, which he has again granted us this day.
B b s
TWEN.
TWENTY EIGHTH EVENING.
Father. Early the ensuing morning Robinson summon'd
his whole Empire together, in order to perform by the help
of their united strength a busineſs, which could not be
postponed.
Hans. What was that?
Father. The bodies of the slain were still lying on the
field of battle, and it was to be fear'd that their noxious
exhalations might infect the air and cause a dangerous sick.
nefs. Every one therefore took a hatchet, and thus they
went to the dreadful place.
Ferdinand. With hatchets ?
Father. Yes; not to dig graves, for then they would
have taken shovels and spades, but to cut wood, and make
a pile, on which they intended to burn all the bodies to
ashes.
John. As the Romans used to do with their dead!
*
Father. And many other nations of old. Robinson was
resolved, not to follow the example of his very imprudent
countrymen in this particular, who were at that time still
inconsiderate enough, to bury their dead in the midst of
towns, nay, deposited them even in churches, where they
exhaled plagues and death to the living.
Matthew. Why, they do so still?
Father. Yes, indeed! That is another example, how
hard
307
hard it is for men to abolish bad customs. Therefore I
advise you so often, to endeavour to become wise and
good. For if we have once accustom'd ourselves to follies
and vices, it is then hard, very hard, to get rid of them
again, though we are sensible, that they are pernicious.
that the stench of dead
but do people not still
Every one knows in our times,
bodies is poisonous to the living:
continue nevertheleſs to bury them in churchyards, or
even deposite them in vaults in the churches, where they
are not even cover'd with mould? Perhaps half a century
must elapse, before they will seriously think of abolishing
this bad custom.
Hans. I wish I had some authority; and it should soon
be abolish'd!
Father. This my dear Hans, ought to be one of the
chief motives to induce you and all other young people, to
acquire a great deal of merit because your fellow citizens
will then place great confidence in you, and confer on you
dignities, which will entitle you, to abolish many hurtful
abuses and introduce many useful regulations. Heaven seems
to have destined you all, to be such men of importance,
as may be a blessing to the whole society of their fellow
citizens: for kind providence has bestowed on you all, what
is requisite for that purpose. You are born of good, honest
parents, who enjoy the esteem and confidence of their fel-
low citizens; you have a sound constitution, and the po
wers of your mind have not been neglected, and besides
you are receiving an education, which few men can boast
of. Thus bountiful Heaven has granted you every thing nei
cessary to become worthy and powerful men. It would be
a shame for any of you to frustrate these hopes.
as I
Yet I do not fear that. If you should therefore,
hope you will, attain to your great destination; if you
should come to be such men, as have influence on the
B b 4
hap.
38
happinefs of thousands: oh, then do not neglect to use
entrusted to you, to lessen the evil
the authority, entrusted to you,
:
and
to promote the good among your brethren, and to diffuse
joy and happineſs about you! Then remember the occasion
of the paternal admonition, which I give you to day, and
if possible, prevail on your fellow citizens, to bury their
dead in such places, where their exhalations may not be
noxious to the health of the living $).
Nicholas. When I go to town, I shall explain it to my
grandpapa and to my uncle; they will be able to do some
thing in it.
Now Robinson and his companions having burned the
corpses returned home. Friday had in the mean time in.
formed his father, that civilized people eat no human flesh,
which at first he could not well conceive. But Friday hav.
ing repeated to him every thing, he had learned of his
master on the subject, in a short time made him have an
abhorrence against such an inhuman practice. Robinson
gave this old man the name of Thursday, because he had
been in the world before his son; and thus we shall call
him for the future. Upon which Robinson summon'd them
all to council, at which Friday served again as an interpreter
to the Spaniard as well as to old Thursday. Robinson, as
being their chief, open'd the session with the following
short speech:
>>
My good friends, as we are liere assembled, we find
ourselves in the possession of every thing necessary for a
com.
The father had the satisfaction of seeing the unexpected good ef-
fects of this passage a few weeks after the first publication of this
book. A generous friend to children, who lay very ill of the con-
sumption, desired to have this little book read to him a few days
before his death and when they came to the above mention'd pas-
sage, he desired accordingly to be buried out of town. This was
at first greatly objected to by the common prejudices; but the re-
quest of the dying gentleman was more respected by the worthy re-
lations, than the senseless reasonings of the multitude. His request
was fulfilled.
}
3og
commodious and happy life. But I for my part shall not be
able to enjoy this blessing with an easy mind, as long as
there are men, who have a greater right to it than I, and
who are nevertheleſs obliged to pine away their lives in want
and misery. I mean your country men,
the Spaniards,
my european friends, who are still among the savages. I
wish therefore, that every one of you would give his opi
nion concerning the proper means of bringing those unfortu
nate people hither?"
FR
Here he stopt; and every one now gave his opinion. The
Spaniard offer'd to fetch them alone in one of the canoes,
which they had taken. Old Thursday was ready to do the
same. Friday on the contrary advised, that his old father
should remain, and that he might be permitted to accom
pany the Spaniard. Now as this caused a generous contest
between them, one being as ready as the other to venture
his life: Robinson saw himself obliged to decide the mat
ter, to which they all submitted with becoming obedience;
and he commanded, that Thursday and the Spaniard should
go, and Friday remain with him.
Charles. Why did not he rather send Friday, than the
poor old man?
Father. Parily from his affection to Friday, whom he
could not possibly and without trembling, expose to any
danger, in which he was not a partaker, and partly, bes
cause the old man seemed to be better acquainted with the
sea, than his son. The Spaniard on the contrary was obliged
to go, because his country men would probably not have
ventured to come on Robinson's invitation only.
·
It was therefore agreed, that these two should in a short
time go over. But previous to that, care was to be taken,
that at least ten times as much land should be taken in and
cultivated because the increase of their colony would have
the certain consequence, that they should every day want
more provisions,
Bb5
There
310
Therefore they all tarned farmers for some weeks, and
as every one worked with a good will, their labour went
on very well and very fast. In a fortnight every thing was
ready, and now they prepared for their intended voyage.
But before their departure the Spaniard gave a proof of
his honesty and grateful affection towards Robinson, which
at the same time shew'd his circumspection. He said: his
country men were common sailors like himself, consequent.
ly people without education. He did not know them suffi
ciently to be answerable for their good characters. His ad
vice therefore was: that Robinson
that Robinson, as Lord of the island,
should first draw up certain conditions, on which they
should be received, and that he would bring none, but
those, who submitted to them.
Robinson was rejoiced at the fidelity of his new subject,
and acted according to his advice. The conditions he drew
up were as fellows: Whoever desires to live in Robin.
son's island, and share in the conveniencies it affords,
must consent.
99
1) To act in every particular according to the will of the
lawful Lord of the same, and willingly submit to all
the laws and regulations he shall think necessary to be
made for the good of the whole state;
a) To lead a laborious, frugal and virtuous life; because
no lazy, prodigal or vicious man of any kind is to
be tolerated in this island;
3) To abstain from all quarrels and disputes, and in case
of any offence, never to be his own judge, but bring
his complaints before the Lord of the island, or before
him, whom he shall appoint to be judge;
4) To perform all the occupations necessary for promoting
the good of the whole, without murmuring, and in
necessity assist the Lord of the island with his life and
blood;
5)
311
*
5) Unanimously to oppose him, who shall dare to trans-
grefs any of these equitable laws, and either to reduce
him to obedience, or to banish him for ever from the
island.
Every one is admonished to reflect seriously on these ar
ticles, and sign his name under them, instead of an
oath, after being fully resolved, to live accordingly in
every respect.
•
Robinson.
The Spaniard was desired to translate these laws in his
own country language, and it was agree'd that he should
take pen and ink along with him, that his country meu
might sign them, before they embarked.
-
And now they chose the best of the canoes, which they
kad taken from the enemy and prepared for their voyage.
Conrad, But was there room enough for all the Spaniards
in one canoe?
Father. No! But they wanted this small boat only to go
over; for they might return in the boats of the stranded
ship, which, as the Spaniard assured them, were still in
a very good condition.
When a sufficient quantity of provisions was carried into
the boat, and the wind being favourable, they took an
affectionate leave of Robinson and Friday, and set sail. The
latter was excessively grieved, when he saw himself obliged
to part with his dear father. Even the day before their de
parture he had wept whole hours, and could neither eat or
drink any thing for grief. But now, at the very moment
of their separation, he was quite inconsolable. Every now
and then he embraced his father and bedew'd his face with
his tears. The old man was at last forced to tear himself
from bin; but when he was already in the boat and had
left the shore, Friday jumped into the sea and swam to the
side of the boat, to shake hands with him once more and
to
312
་י,
to sob a last farewell. Upon which he returned to shore,
placed himself on a small eminence, and looked after the
boat sobbing and weeping, till he had lost sight of it.
Robinson, who wished to divert his grief, employ'd most
part of that day in hunting and walking over the moun.
tains with him. They had not gone far, before the dog,
that had follow'd them, stopped at the foot of a rock,
overgrown with bushes, and fell g) a barking. They ap.
proached the place, where they found a hole in the rock,
which was only large enough for a man to creep, but not
to walk erect into it,
Robinson, who did not like to leave any thing unexa▪
mined, that had once drawn his attention, desired his
companion to try, whether he could not get into the hole.
Friday obey'd. But he had scarce put his head in when he
started back, roaring most hideously, and ran away like a
madman, without minding Robinson's calling him. At length
Robinson overtook him, and with some surprise enquired
after the cause of his flight. Oh! oh! answer'd Friday,
scarce able to speak, let us run, dear master, as fast
as we can;
>>
there is a most dreadful monster in that hole,
with large fiery eyes, and a mouth big enough to swallow
us both alive!
Well, that must be a very large mouth; but I must
see the monster too."
,,
, no,
"
Oh! oh!" cried Friday, falling on his knees before
him:
for Heaven's sake, do not such things. It
will certainly devour you, and then poor Friday would have
has he then
no master!" Robinson answer'd smiling
devoured you?" and as he could not answer this question
in the affirmative: be ordered him to run home and fetch
the lantern. He himself returned to the hole and stood sen.
tinel with his gun loaded.
g) to fall.
»
And
ZIZ
"f
And what in all the world, thought he, can have terrified.
Friday in such a manner ? a wild beast? a lion,
a lion, a tiger,
a panther or any such thing? Nay, if that were, I should
commit a rash action by creeping into the hole. But if there
were any such animals, I should have known that long ago.
And then Friday would not have escaped unhurt! No,
no! it can not be that; his timidity has again imposed on
him, and made him see something, that does not exist. I
must therefore examine it, to cure the good lad of this child-
ish passion,"
In the mean time Friday returned with a burning candle
in the lantern, and tried again with tears in his eyes to
prevail on his master, not to expose himself to such an immi.
nent danger, in which he would certainly perish. But Ro-
binson was a stranger to fear, as soon as he had maturely
considered a thing; and could therefore not be withheld k)
from his purpose. He begged Friday to be courageous
took the lantern in his lelt, and a loaded pistol in his right
hand, and thus he boldly went to face the adventure.
>
He had scarce put his head in, when he discover'd so-
mething by the feeble light of the lantern, that made him
studder. But yet he would not run away directly, but
stretched out his hand with the lantern to view this un-
known monster more distinctly. And then he saw, that it
was neither more nor lefs, than an old he-lama, just ex-
piring with age and infirmity. After having looked round
about him, and perceived nothing but this very harmleſs
animal, he crept entirely into the cavern and called
Friday to follow him.
Friday trembled, like an aspen leaf; yet he could not
find it in his heart to forsake his master. He therefore took
the generous self-denying resolution, of creeping in after
h) to withhold. i) to creep.
Сс
kim,
314
him, and now he saw to his astonishment, how greatly
he had been mistaken in the bignefs of the eyes and mouth
of this animal.
Do you see now, Friday, cried Robinson to him with
a mild voice, how timidity can deceive us? Where are
now those large fiery eyes? Where is the monstrous mouth,
which you thought you saw before.
Friday. It really appear'd to
may, I could have sworn k) it.
me, as if I saw them;
Robinson. I don't doubt, but it appear'd so to you;
but you ought to have known, that timidity is a liar, and
makes us see many things, that do not exist. Believe me,
Friday, this is the foundation of all old women's stories
about hobgoblins, and I know not what other nonsense!
The authors of these insipid tales were fearful old women
or cowardly men like them, who, exactly like you, ima-
gined to see something, that does not exist, and who af
terwards, just as you, would have sworn,
really seen such things. Be a man, Friday;
that they had
look twice an
other time, and banish from your heart all womanish tie
midity!
Friday promised to do his best. In the mean time the
old lama expired, and Robinson endeavoured with Friday's
assistance to get him out of the hole and to bury him. And
now they examined the place, where they were, with
greater attention, and found it to be a very spacious and
agreeable grotto or cave, which for the future would be
very useful to them. It appeared as if hewn by art, it
was dry and cool, and the walls, that seemed to be of
crystal, reflected the light of the lantern on all sides with
as much splendour, as if they had been lookingglasses.
Robinson instantly resolved, to convert this agreeable
}) to cwear.
grollo
315
grotto into a place of refreshment against the sultry heat of
the sun, and at the same time use it as a cellar for such
things, as would be spoiled by the excessive heat. This
place was happily not above a quarter of an hour from his
castle. Friday was therefore desired to run immediately for
the necessary tools. With these they began afterwards a
regular door before it. And this work afforded a very agres
able employment during the absence of the two others.
Ce &
TWEN
TWENTY-NINTH EVENING.
Nicholas. Every time that Papa is going to continue his
narration, I am afraid
Father. Of whar, dear Nicholas?
Nicholas. That the story will soon be finished.
Theophilus. If I were in Papa's place, I would make it
so long, oh so long, that it should not finish at all.
Father. All our joys here on earth have one day an end,
and this consequently likewise. You will therefore do well
to be prepared for it before hand. There is again a storm
rising on Robinson's horizon, the issue of which 1 cannot
answer for. Be therefore on your guard.
•
"..
Eight days were already past, and no sign of the deputies,.
so that they began to be impatient for their return. Friday
ran every day above twenty times up the hill or to the
shore, and wearied his eyes in looking out after thein
without success. One morning, whilst Robinson was busy
at home, he came full speed singing and jumping, and cried
from afar to his master: they are coming! they are coming!
Robinson no leſs rejoiced at this agreeable news, after
having taken his perspective glafs, ran upon the hill. Here
he really saw at a very great distance a considerable boat
standing in for their island; but when he had examined
A
things
317
things a little nearer, he shook 2) his head, and said Fris
day, Friday, I fear, you are mistaken! Friday turned
pale,
saw,
Robinson looked a second time and appear'd still more
astonish'd. At last he could no longer doubt of what he
and therefore communicated his own alarms to his
affrighted companion: Friday, said he, those people are
not our Spaniards with your father; it is an English sloop
(a large boat), and I perceive armed Englishmen in it! Fri-
day trembled in all his limbs. Follow me, said Robinson
going hastily to another eminence, from whence they could
overlook the northern coast.
พ
They had scarce reached the top of the hill, and turned
their eyes towards the sea, when they both stood speechless
and as petrified. For they saw at a distance of about a
league an English vessel at anchor.
Surprise, fear and joy alternately seized Robinson's soul;
joy at the sight of a ship, that might perhaps be the in
strument of his deliverance; surprise and fear on the con
trary at the real intention of her coming to these coasts. She
could not have been driven hither by a storm, for there
had been no storm many weeks since. Neither could she
have directed her course this way, for what could make
an English captain come to these parts of the world, where
the English had no settlements, and consequently no trade.
He therefore apprehended, that they might be pirates.
Frederic. What sort of people are they?
Father. There are still men here and there, who have
been so ill instructed in their youth, as not to know that
robbing is a crime. These wretched people therefore do not
scruple to take away other people's property either privately
or by open violence, and make it their own. If this be
Cc3
done
1) to shake.
518
done by land, such people are called thieves or
or robbers;
if it be done by sea, they are called pirates.
Christopher. But these were Englishment
in case
Father, So they appeared to be indeed, but Robinson
thoughts who knows, whether those wretches,
they be pirates; have not perhaps taken this vessel by for-
ce, and then dressed themselves, in English cloathing
During the first helpleſs years of his solitary abode in this
island, he would have thought it a happineſs, to fall in
with pirates, and be carried away by them as a slave, on.
ly to get among his own species again. But now,
condition was much happier the danger of falling into the
hands of such villains made him shudder. He therefore im.
parted his apprehensions to Friday, and they both went to
observe the motions of those, that were approaching in
the boat.
as his
They ascended an eminence cover'd with trees and un.
derwoods, from whence without being seen themselves
they could observe all what passed. They saw the sloop,
in which there were eleven men, land about half a mile
from them on the beach. The whole crew went on shore.
Eight of them were armed, but three not. These latter,
who were fetter'd, were set at liberty, as soon as they
came on shore. One could perceive by the pitiful looks of
one of them, that he was solliciting those that were ar
med; for he fell on his knees and used the most passionate
gestures of entreaty, while the two others lifted up their
hands to heaven every now and then, as if they were ima
ploring God, to help and deliver them.
Robinson was very much astonished at this sight, as he
did not know, the meaning of it. But Friday approached
him with an air of triumph, saying: Do you see, Master,
your countrymen eat their prisoners too? Get away, ans-
wered Robinson with some indignation, that they will not!
and
319
and thus ne continued observing them thro' his perspective
glafs.
With abhorrence he observed some of the armed men
lifting their swords upon those, who lay in a supplicating
posture before them. At last he saw them leave the prisoners
alone, and scatter about the woods.
All three sat down in one place with looks of sorrow and
despair. This reminded Robinson of his own deplorable si
tuation the day when he was first thrown on this island,
and he resolved at all events to assist these unhappy peo.
ple, if they should deserve it.
Friday was therefore order'd to fetch as many fire-locks,
pistols, swords and as much ammunition, as he could
carry.
Christopher. What is ammunition, pray?
Father Powder and balls. Robinson thought proper
to stay where he was, to observe, what they would fur-
ther undertake. Friday was back in a short time, and when
every thing was ready and their pieces loaded, they observa
ed with pleasure, that the straggling sailors lay down in
the shade, one here and another there, to sleep away the
sultry heat of the noon - sun. Robinson waited a quarter of
an hour longer; then he went boldly up the three unhappy
men, who were still sitting on the same spot, with their
backs towards him. Being near enough he cried who are
you? at which they started, as if they had been thunder-
struck.
They sprung up, as if they were going to fly from him;
hut Robinson called to them in english, to fear nothing
for he was come to deliver them!
Then you must be from heaven!" said one of them,
respectfully pulling off his hat and staring at him. All help
is from Heaven, said Robinson; but quickly tell me, good
people, of what nature your misfortune is, and how [
Cc4
can
320
can help you?,, I was master of yon ship," answer'd the
"15
a
other; this man is my mate, and that gentleman,
passenger, pointing to his companions. „My men have
mutinied, and taken possession of the ship. At first they
intended to murder me and these two honest men, because
they did not approve of their conduct; at last however,
they were prevailed on to spare our lives. But the mercy
they shew us is even more cruel, than death itself. For
they have now exposed us on this desert island, where we
are sure to perish with want and misery."
55
On two conditions," said Robinson,
my life and blood for your deliverance!*
وو
09
I will venture
What are they, generous man?" said the captain. ,, In
the first place," answer'd Robinson that you shall enti
rely conform to my orders, as long as you stay in this is.
land; and then that you carry me and my companions to
England, in case I succeed in putting you again in posses-
sion of your ship."
,, We, the ship and every thing on board of her," re
plied the captain,,, are entirely at your disposal."
"
Well then," said Robinson, here is a firelock
and a sword for every one of you, on condition, that you
do not use them, till I judge it necessary. Your enemies
are all asleep, one here and another there, let us there
fore try, if we can get them in our power without shed.
ding any blood.”
They set forward, and Friday was ordered to take the
ropes, with which the three men had been bound. Now
they came up to the first sailor, who lay on his face, and
was so fast asleep, that they seized him by his hands and
feet, and crammed a handkerchief in his mouth, before he
was well awake. They tied his hands bebind his back,
ordered him to remain on the same spot without stirring,
or
321
or without uttering a single syllabe, otherwise they would
blow his brains out directly. They had laid him with his
face turned towards the sea, so that he could not know,
what happened to his comrades.
1er.
Now they went up to the second, who shared the same
fate. He was tied, placed and threaten'd in the same man-
Fortune or rather Divine Providence appeared on this
occasion the Protector of innocence and Avenger of wrongs.
There were already six of these wretches tied in the same
manner, when the last two of them suddenly awoke, sprung
up, and took their arms. Wretches, cried Robin
look at your companions, see our superiority, and
surrender this moment! a minute's delay will cost you your
lives."
son,
"Oh mercy! mercy! captain!" they cried, throwing
down their arms and falling on their knees. Upon which
they were tied like the rest and conducted prisoners to the
lately discovered cave, where they were informed, that
the first, who should venture to break the wooden door,
should be directly shot by the centinel, who was to be left
there. All their knives were taken from them, before they
were left alone.
After this Robinson and Friday with their new allies went
to the sloop, heaved it entirely on shore by means of some
levers, and broke a hole in the bottom of it, to render it
quite unfit for an immediate use.
Ferdinand. Why did they do so?
Father. They foresaw, that the people on board would
dispatch a second boat, in case the first did not return.
They would therefore prevent them from taking the first back
again with them.
Their suppositions proved true. Towards three in the
afternoon a gun was fired on board, to recall the sailors,
who were on shore. This signal not being answer'd after
being
322
being repeated three times, a second boat put off from the
ship towards the island. Upon which Robinson retired to
the eminence with his companions, in order to see, what
was further to be done.
The boat landed. The men ran up to the first boat and their
surprise was excessive at finding it on dry land and a hole
in it. They looked about, called their comrades by their
but no body answer'd. They were ten in number,
names,
all armed.
ވ
Robinson, who had been informed by the captain, that
there were three honest lads among the prisoners, who
were forced into the conspiracy, dispatched Friday and the
mate to fetch them in all possible haste. They arrived, and
the captain, who bad in the mean time imparted his de-
sign to Robinson, after some reproof, asked them whether
they would be faithful to him, in case he pardon'd them?
», Till death!" they answer'd trembling, and falling on
their knees. The captain continued: I have hitherto known
you as good lads; I will therefore believe, that you had
no share in the mutiny, and that by your greater fidelity,
you will make amends for your past conduct. The three
Bailors wept m) aloud for joy and gratitude, and kissed the
captain's hand with the strongest marks of repentance. Upon
which he gave them back their arms and bade them obey
the orders of their common chief with exactness.
The crew of the second boat had in the mean time con
-
tinued halloing and firing by turns, in hopes that their
straggling comrades would return. At last, finding that all
was in vain, they seemed towards night fall to grow ap-
prehensive for themselves, and rowed about a hundred
yards from the shore, where they cast anchor. Now it was
to be feared, lest they would in a short time go back to
the
a) to weep.
323
the ship, and the whole crew would then give up their
comrades for lost, and set sail; a reflexion which filled
both the captain and Robinson with anxiety.
Luckily the latter had an idea, which promised them a
great success. He ordered Friday and one of the sailors
to run to a woody place, about some thousand paces from
the boat, and from thence to answer, when any of the
crewd halloed. As soon as they perceived, that they lis-
tened to their call and were coming on shore, they were
by degrees to retire further into the wood, and decoy the
sailors after them as far as possible. Then they were to re◄
turn to them by another way with the utmost speed.
This well contrived stratagem succeeded completely. The
sailors in the boat had no sooner heard a voice answering
them, but they rowed in all haste towards the ahore, and
with their firelocks in their hands ran towards the place
from whence they beard the voice. Two of them were left
behind to look after the boat.
Friday and his companion performed their busineſs admiş
rably well; for they decoyed the sailors almost two miles
up
into the woods. Then they returned with all speed to
join their commanders. Robinson had in the mean time com-
municated his whole plan to the captain, which was again
to endeavour to get the whole crew in their power, without
shedding blood.
During this time it grew quite dark. Robinson and his
companions advanced towards the boat as softly as possi
ble, and were now only about twenty paces from it, withe
out being in the least observed by the two sailors, who
guarded it. Upon which sallying forth with a dreadful noise
and a loud clattering of their arms, they threaten'd to kill
and destroy them, if they dared to stir. The two sailors
begged for quarter, were seized and had their hands bound.
This
524
This being done, they made haste to drag this boat likewise
a good way up the beach, and retired with their two priso-
ners into the neighbouring wood, to wait for the return of
the rest. These however did not all come at once,
were exceedingly fatigued with their fruitless rambles. Their
astonishment and lamentations at the lofs of their boat were
and
unspeakable. As there were five of them, one of the sai.
lors, that had been pardon'd, was sent to ask them: whe
ther they would immediately and by fair means lay down
their arms and surrender? If not, the governor of the is
land bad fifty men posted at a small distance from them,
who were to kill them immediately adding that their boat
was taken, all their comrades were prisoners, so that they
had no choice left, but either to surrender or die.
Hereupon Robinson ordered all his companions to make
a clattering with their arms. to confirm the report of the
sailor. May we hope for pardon?" cried one of them
at last; to whom the captain called without being seen:
Thomas Smith, you know my voice: lay down your arms
immediately, and you shall all have your lives granted,
except Atkins: for he had been one of the ring-leaders of
the mutiny..
and
That moment they all fung down their firelocks,
Atkins cried out: Oh! for God's mercy sake, captain,
what have I done more than the rest who have been as bad
as I. Oh, pardon!"
pardon!" The captain answer'd: all he could
do, was, to intercede for him with the governor. What
effect that would have, he must wait to see. Then Friday
was sent with the sailors to tie their hands. In this interval
the three last arrived likewise, and as they saw and heard,
what had happen'd, they did not venture to make any re-
eistance, and suffer'd their hands to be bound likewise.
Now the captain and Robinson, who was looked upon
#9 211 officer of the Governor, came up, and the former
chose
325
chose such from among the prisoners, as he thought capa.
ble of sincerely repenting the crime they had committed.
These were led ) to the entrance of the castle, and the
rest to the grotto. Two of those, who were already in
the cavern,
were alto fetched back, because the captain
thought them equally disposed to return to their duty.
What he did with them, and what further happer'd
will be the object of our next conversation,
«) to lead,
D d
THIR
THIRTIETH EVENING.
Father. Now, my children, the adventures of our Robins
son draw near to end. His fate will be decided in a few
hours; we shall see, whether he must remain in his island,
without hopes of any deliverance, or whether his ardent
wish of seeing his parents again, will be granted him at
length?
The only question is, whether or not the captain can
recover his ship with the assistance of those sailors, whom
he has pardon'd? If he does, all the miseries of our friend
are at an end, if not, every thing remains as it was, and
he must renounce any deliverance.
There were ten of those pardon'd sailors now assembled
before the castle. Robinson informed them, in the name
of the governor, that their crime should be pardon'd, on
condition of assisting their lawful master in recovering the
ship. They all gave the most solemn assurances, that they
would willingly and faithfully submit to this condition. Ro
binson now added, that by this means they would not only
save their own lives, but the lives of their comrades, who
were still in confinement, and who, if the ship was not re-
covered, were all to be hanged the next morning at break
of day, without any distinction.
This
327
This sentence was likewise communicated to the priso
ners. Then the criminals were brought to an interview with
those that were released, in order to confirm the fidelity of
the latter by their intreaties. In the mean time the carpen
ter was ordered to repair the first boat with all possible
haste; this done, they were both again put to sea. Upon
which it was agreed, that the captain should command one,
and the mate the other, the crew being divided between
them. They were all provided with arms and amunition,
and Robinson having shaken hands with the captain wished
him success in bis undertaking. The boats went off.
Was
Nicolas, I wonder, that Robinson did not go with them!
Father. It was not timidity, but prudence, that retained
him, dear Nicolas. In his absence the prisoners might ha
ve broke loose, they might have taken possession of his
castle; and this only secure retreat, which at the same time
contained all the means of his happiness, was too impor
tant, to be exposed with so much levity. Even the captain
advised him to stay there wit Friday, to defend that places
Robinson, whose destiny was now to be decided
too agitated in his mind to be easy anywhere. Sometimes
be sat down in his cave, sometimes he mounted on the
wall, then again he went up his ropeladder, to hearken from
the top of the hill during the stillness of the night, whether
he could not hear any thing from that quarter where the ship lay.
Tho' he had not tasted a morsel the whole day, yet it was
impossible for him to eat any thing now. His uneasiness
encreased every moment especially about midnight, because
he did not hear them fire the three guns, which was the
signal agreed upon, in case the undertaking proved sucess-
ful. He recollected however, that it was wrong in him to
abandon himself entirely to fear and hope, and seasonably
remembered a maxim, which he had but lately commended
D d 2
328
•
to Friday, and which was, that in doubtful cases you must
always expect the worst- If this worst case do not happen,
so much the better for you! But if it do, it will not put
you out of countenance.
According to this principle, Robinson imagined the ill
success of the undertaking as certain, and summon'd up
all his firmness and resignation in divine providence, to bear
this new stroke of fortune likewise. He had almost given
up all his hopes, when suddenly he really heard the distant
report of a gun.
Robinson jumped up, as roused from his slumber and
listened. Bounce! a second report, and then a third. And
now he did not in the least doubt of the captain's success
in recovering the ship, and of his approaching deliverance.
In the heat of his joy, more flying, than walking, he
Furried down the rope ladder, seized Friday, who sat nods
ding on a bank of sods, pressed him to his bosom and bew
dew'd his face with many tears, without uttering a single
word.,,What's the matter, master ? said Friday, awaku
ing from his slumber, quite surprised at these impetuous -
caresses. But Robinson in the excess of his joy could say no
thing, but: Ab, Friday f
3)
•
God have mercy on my master's head!" said Friday,
to himself from an idea that Robinson had lost his senses.
Come, lie down to sleep, dear master!"
said he to
him, and was going to take him by the arm, to lead him
into the cave. But Robinson with unspeakable affability.
answer'd to sleep, dear Friday ? I sleep now. at the
at the very
moment Heaven has granted me the accomplishment of the
only wish of my heart? Did not you hear the three guns L
Don't you know as yet, that the ship is recovered?
"
Now Friday's eyes were open'd; now he also rejoiced,
but more on his dear master's account than on his own.
For
R329
For the thought of leaving his own native climate forever
damped the pleasure of going with Robinson and his father
to a country, of which he had already seen so many surpri
sing things, and where he expected to see still greater wond
ders
Robinson was now more uneasy', than ever, with meto
extasy. Sometimes he went up the hill, fell on his kness
under the starry vault of heaven, to thank God for his de
liverance; then he descended again, embraced his Friday
spoke of nothing but Hamburgh, and began already to pack
up his goods. Thus be past the whole night, without ever
once thinking of repose."
At the first dawn of day. his eyes were fixed to where the
ship lay at anchor, and he waited with impatience for the
perfect day light, that he might have a full sight of the
ship, the inftrument of his deliverance. The moment ar
rived; but Heaven! how great was his terror, when be
saw with perfect certainty, that the ship had disappear'd.
He gave a loud out-cry, and fell down to the ground.
Friday came running to him
to him, but was a long time before
he could imagine, what was the matter with his master.
At length Robinson stretched his trembling hand toward.
the sea, and said with a weak dying voice : look there! Frie
day looked, and immediately understood his master. (The
young company did not know, how to behave in this place.
They would willingly have abandon'd themselves to joy,
because they hoped, this incident would prolong the father's
narration; but their compassion of Robinson former mise
fortunes restrained this rising joy, and did not suffer it to
break out. They all observed therefore a profound silence
and the father continued.)
1
Our Robinson here teaches us by his own example, How
much even good people, who have improved their minds,
D. d. s
ought
350
ought to be on their guard, to prevent their being overcome
by the violence of their passions. If Robinson's joy had not
been so immoderate before, he would not have been so
excessively grieved afterwards; and if his grief had not so
entirely darken'd his reason, he would have known, that he
must likewise in this particular submit to divine providence
with resignation, tho' his most sanguine wishes were des
troyed by it. He ought to have consider'd, that divine
providence has always means for our safety, when we do
not think it possible to be deliver'd from distrefs; and this
reflexion would have tranquilised him. Look, children, how
much even the best men find to mend in themselves !
-
Whilst Robinson lay there so comfortless, and Friday
endeavour'd to sooth him, they suddenly heard a noise on
the other side of the hill, as from the steps of many peop.
le. They jumped up, turned their eyes towards that place,
and perceived with agreeable astonishment the captain
with some of his people coming up the hill. At one jump
Robinson had clasped him in his arms! When he turned
about, he saw the ship at an anchor in a small creek on
the western side, and in that same moment all his grief
vanish'd. This sight convinced him at once, that the cap.
gain had alter'd his station before daybreak, and brought
the ship to that side of the island, where it might lie at
an anchor in a convenient harbour.
Robinson lay a long while in silent extasy on the neck of
the captain who was no less rejoiced than be, till at last
they began to congratulate and thank each other. Then
the captain related him in what manner he had succeeded
in recovering his chip, without wounding or killing one
man. The darkneſs of night, preventing the mutineers to
eee him, they made no difficulty in admitting his companis
The worst of the rebels had afterwards indeed offer'd
018.
to
331
"
10 make resistance; but without success. They were sei-
zed and laid in irons. Upon which he indulged his gra.
titude to his deliverer. It is you, said he, whilst a tear
started in his eye; it is you, generous man, whose compas.
sion and prudence have saved me and my ship. There it.
is it is yours, dispose of it and of me, as you think pro.
per. "" Then he sent for some refreshments, which he had
brought from on board, and now they sat down to an agree
able breakfast with cheerful hearts.
!
"
In the mean time Robinson related his strange and mare
vellous adventures to the captain, which more than once
excited in him the greatest astonishment. Then the captain
begged Robinson to tell him, what he should do for him
now; and Robinson answer'd: Besides the conditions I
made with you for my assistance, I have three other things
to beg of you. The first is to stay here, till my honest
Friday's father returns with the Spaniards; the second is,
to take all the Spaniards, besides me and my houshold on
board, and sail first to Cadiz, there to land them. The
third is to pardon the chief mutineers, and leave them in
the island instead of any other punishment; because I am
sure, this is the best method of mending them.
The captain having assured him, that every thing should
be punctually observed to his desire, he sent for the priso
ners, chose the worst from among them, and announced
them their sentence. They were very glad to hear it, bei
cause they knew, that according to law, they had forfeited
their lives. Our good natured Robinson gave them instru
tions, how to get their livelihood, and promised to leave
them his whole stock of tools, furniture and cattle. He ad.
monish'd them at repeated times to put their trust in God,
to be laborious and live in unity together, assuring them.
that these virtues would render their abode in this island
exceedingly agreeable.
Whilst
352
Whilst he was sill speaking, Friday out of breath for
joy, came running, with the glad tidings, that his father
was coming with the Spaniards, and that they were landing
that very moment. The whole company therefore went to
meet them; but Friday flew before all the rest, and was
hanging on his father's neck, long before the rest came up.
Robinson saw with surprise, that there were two women
among bis new guests; and upon inquiry, old Thursday
informed him, that they were the wires of two Spaniards,
whom they bad chosen among the natives of their island.
As soon as the two Spaniards were informed, that Robinson
was going to quit the island, and leave some sailors behind
him, they begged Robinson to be allowed, to remain there
also with their wives, because they did not wish to live in
a better place, after all the favourable accounts they had
heard of this island.
Robinson consented to their request with pleasure. F
was glad, that a couple of men should remain upon his
island whom all their comrades gave the best character,
because he hoped, they would keep the other bad fellows
in a regular and peaceful course of life. For which purpose
be resolved to make all the rest dependent on these two.
He called them all together, to let them know his will.
There were six Englishmen, and the two Spaniards with
their wives. Robinson spoke to them as follows:
None of you I hope will dispute me the right I have of
disposing of my property as I please: I mean of this whole
island and every thing in it.
of you that remains here,
regular disposition of things,
it. I declare therefore, that the two Spaniards shall be look.
ed upon as my substitutes, and be the lawful masters of
this island. It is therefore the duty of the rest of you, to
But I wish, that every one
may do well. This requires a
and I have a right to make
Ray
333
pay them the strictest obedience. They alone shal inhabit
my castle; they alone shall be the trustees of all the arms,
all the ammunition, and all the tools; but they shall like-
wise be obliged to lend the rest of you, what you have
occasion for, on condition, that you live peaceably and ors
derly in every respect. In case of danger, you shall assist
each other; if there be labours, either in the fields or gar
den, you shall all work together and divide the crop among
you. Perhaps I may once have occasion to enquire after
you; perhaps I may resolve one day to return myself, and
spend the rest of my days in this island, that is now sq
dear to me. Then wee to him, who shall have infringed
my regulations! He shall be set adrift in a small boat, withs
out mercy, and committed to the sea in a storm.
They all testified their satisfaction at this disposition, and
vowed the strictest obedience.
And now Robinson made an inventory of the few things
he would take along with him, that they might be put on
board. It contain'd: 1) the clothes, which he had himself
made of skins, together with the umbrella and mask; 2)
the lance, the bow, and the stone hatchet; 3) his Pull, his
dog and two lamas; 4) all sorts of tools and instruments of
bis own making, when alone; and at last 5) the gold dustj
diamonds, and his large lump of gold.
After having got all these things on board, and the wind
being favourable, their departure was fixed for the next day. Upon
which Robinson and Friday prepared a dinner for the enter
tainment of the captain and the new colony. They served
the best they had, and the victuals were so well dressed;
that the captain-could-not sufficiently praise Robinson's skill
in the art of cookery. To follow the noble example of 'his
host and at the same time to contribute something to the
appiness of the colony, he sent on board for a quantity
of
334
provisions, gun powder, iron and tools, which he left as
a present behind him.
Towards evening Robinson begged to be an hour alone,
because he had still some business of importance to settle
before his departure. Every body withdrawing, he ascen
ded the hill, to revolve in his mind the whole history of
bis abode in this island, and to pour out his whole heart
in filial gratitude to God. It is impossible for me to express
his pious and grateful sentiments in words; but whoever
has a heart like his, needs none of my description; he will.
read them in his own." "
Now the moment of their departure was come. Robinson
having again admonished those, who were to remain there,
with tears in his eyes, to lead a laborious and pious life, he
recommended them with a fraternal heart to the protection
of the Almighty, who had led him in so wonderful a mana
ner. He then looked round him once more, and thanked
God for his miraculous preservation and present deliverand
ce; then with a voice half stifled, he bade his last fared
well! and went on board, attended by Friday and Thursday,
Some. Oh dear! Now 'tis all over.
'John. Have patience! Who knows, whether some new
obstacle may prevent his departure.
Father. The wind was so fresh and favourable, that
the island seemed to fly away behind them. As long as
Robinson could see it, he stood in mournful silence on deck
with his eyes fixed on the beloved island, which had been
his abode for twelve years; and the manifold hardships he
had suffered there, had endear'd it so much to him, as if
it had been his native country. Having at length lost sight
of the top of the highest mountain, he look'd up to hea
yen, repeating in his thought: Now thank ye all the Lord
eic,! Upon which he went down into the captain's cabin,
I
τσ
335
together with Thursday and Friday, to relieve his oppressed
heart by a friendly conversation.
Their voyage was very prosperous.
In four and twen
ty days they reached Cadiz, where the Spaniards were land
ed. Robinson went along with them, to enquire for the
merchant, whose gold dust he had saved. He found him,
and had the satisfaction, of freeing this honest man from
the greatest difficulties. The loss of his ship had been the
cause of his becoming a bankrupt.
2
Frederic. What is a bankrupt?
Father. When a man owes more than he can pay,
every thing he has left, is taken from him, to be divided
among his creditors, and that is called becoming a bankrupt.
The little barrel of gold dust was more than sufficient to
pay the merchant's debts. The grateful man offer'd the rea
mainder as a present to his benefactor, but he was far
from accepting it, being, said he, sufficiently rewarded by
the consciousness of having prevented the ruin of an hos
nest man.
From Cadiz they set sail for England. During this voyage
a melancholy accident happened. Old Thursday fell suddenly
ill, and died notwithstanding all their endeavours to save
him. You may easily imagine, what Friday suffered on this
occasion, and how excessively he lamented the death of so
beloved a father. Neither could the two lamas bear the
sea, and died likewise.
The ship arrived safe at Portsmouth a well known hard
our in England. Here Robinson hoped to find the officer's
widow, to whom he would deliver the diamonds. He found
her; but in the most indigent circumstances. Having recei
ved no support from her deceased husband in the East- Ina
dies, for two years she and her children were by degrees redu◄
ced to the greatest poverty. They were scarce cover'd with
come
356
-
Bome rags, and the faces of the mother and her children
were as pale as death with hunger and misery. Robinson
here again felt that pleasure, which good men enjoy, when
by divine providence they become instrumental in putting an
end to the misery of their fellow-creatures. He deliver'd
her the diamonds, and then he saw this withering and half
Famish'd family in a few days flourish again, like a plant
almost faded, after a warm rétreshing rain in summer, and
enjoy a happiness, which they had not hoped to see in
this world.
As there was just at this time a ship at anchor here, which
was bound for Hamburgh, he took leave of his captain
to be no longer chargeable to him, and went in company
with Friday on board of this Hamburgh vessel, which soon
after weighed anchor.
This voyage likewise proved expeditious and prosperous.
Helgoland already appeared in view; soon after Robinson
spied his beloved country on the distant horizon, at the
sight of which his heart was ready to burst for joy; now
they made the mouth of the Elbe, when suddenly a violent
storm with thunder and lightening arose, which carried the
vessel upon the shore with irresistible violence. They em.
ploy'd all their skill and activity toturn the ship and get to
sea again; but in vain: a furious gust of wind baffled all their
endeavours, bore away the ship, and threw her with such
violence on a sand bank, that her bottom split.
In the same moment the water pour'd in with such im•
petuosity, that they could not think of saving her, so that
the crew had scarce time to jump into their boats,, to save
their own lives, if possible. Thus Robinson and his com,
panions arrived at last at Cuxhaven shipwrecked and poor,
without having saved any of all his riches, except his faith
ful dog, that swam after him, and his Poll, that happen'd
.
10
337
to sit on his shoulder, when the ship was cast on shore
Afterwards he was informed, that among the goods, that
were saved, they had only found his umbrella, and the
clothes of skins. These he got again after paying the usual
expences: his large lump of gold on the contrary was en.
tirely lost.
John. Oh, poor Robinson!
Father. He is now just as rich as he was, when for
merly he went off from Hamburgh. Perhaps Providence
made him lose every thing again, to prevent any giddly
young man or other from being tempted by the sight of his
riches, to follow his example, and wander thro' the wide
world, in hopes of returning like him with treasures found
by chance. As to Robinson, he did not greatly lament this
loss, For as he had firmly resolved to pass the rest of his
days in the same uninterrupted laboriousness and sobriety,
just as he had been accustomed to live in his island, he
could easily do without gold.
Now he went to Hamburgh on board of a vessel, that
was going from Cuxhaven. When they were off Stade, he
could see the steeples of his native city, at which sight he
could not forbear weeping for extasy. In four hours time
at furthest he would be there, and in the arms of his dear-
ly beloved father. At Cuxhaven he had been informed
of his good mother's death, which he grievously la.
mented.
Now the vessel flew by Blankenese, bome by a strong
tide and a fair wind; presently after they passed Neuen
staedten, then Altona, and now they were in the hare
bour of Hamburg. His heart was in the greatest agitation,
when he got on shore, and if it had not been for the peo
ple, he would have fallen on his face to kiss the native soil
E
He
}
338
He hasten'd thro' a crowd of staring spectators to the Baum
house *).
From thence he sent a messenger to his father's house,
to prepare him by degrees for his appearance. First the
messenger was to tell him: there was a person come with
agreeable news from his son; and then, that his son was
himself on his return for Hamburgb; and in fine, that the
person, who brought this agreeable news, was his son
himself. If Robinson had not used this precaution, such
an excess of joy might have overpower'd and killed his old
father.
And now Robinson himself flew thro' the well known
streets,
to his father's house. He enters falls into his
father's arms,
who stood trembling for joy, with such
extasy as cannot be described. My Father! My son! This
was all they could utter. Silent, trembling and breathless
they clung a) to each other, till at last a flood of tears
relieved their oppressed hearts.
Friday stood in the mean time staring in silent astonish-
ment at the numberleſs wonderful things, that appear'd be-
fore his eyes. He could not satiate his curiosity, and was
the first whole day quite confounded.
The report of Robinson's return and surprising adventures
ran like lightening thro' the town. Every one spoke of Ro-
binson; every one wished to see him; they all desired to
hear the history of his adventures from his own mouth! His
Father's house therefore was soon like a public assembly;
and Robinson was obliged to tell his history from morning
till night, without mercy. Whilst he was relating, he did
not forget to cry out now and then to the fathers and mo◄
thers present; Ye parents, if you love your children, ac-
4) to cling.
A large tavern near the harbour, belonging to the City.
custom
339
custom them betimes to a pious, sober and laborious life!
and if there were any children, he always gave them the
following golden rule , my dear children, be obedient to
your parents and masters; learn diligently every thing you
find occasion to learn; fear God, and beware oh bej
ware of idleness, the mother of every vice.
Robinson's father was a broker. He wished his son might
apply to this business, in order to fill his place after his
death. But Robinson, who since many years had been used
to the pleasure of working with his hands, begged his fa.
ther, to suffer him to be a joiner; and his father left it
to his own option. He therefore bound himself apprentice
to a master, together with Friday, and before the end of
a year, they had learned every thing, so that they were
able to become masters themselves.
Upon which they set up a shop in company together; and
remained inseparable friends and assistante for life. Industry,
and sobriety were become their second nature, to such a
degree, that it was impossible for them to spend but half
a day in idleness. In remembrance of their former solitary
life, they appointed one day iu the week, on which they
endeavour'd, as well as they could, to live on the same
footing. Concord, between themselves, indulgence for the
faults of others, readiness to serve them, and humanity to
all men were virtues so habitual to them, that they could
not comprehend, how people could live without practising
them. They were particularly distinguished by their pure,
undissembled and active piety. Whenever they pronounced
the name of God, joy and love for him sparkled in their
eyes; and they shudder'd, when at any time they heard
others pronounce that holy name with levity and inconside
rateness. The blessing of heaven also crown'd all their
undertakings in a visible manner. They attained to a great
age,
I e a
340
age, in pease, health and useful activity, and the latest
posterity will honour the remembrance of two men, who
were an example to their fellow creatures, how we must
do, to live satisfied here and eternally happy hereafter.
Here the father stopt. The young company remain'd for
some time sitting in a pensive posture, till at last the
hought I will do so too! ripen'd into a firm resolution.
VERKLARING
der woorden en fpreekwijzen in dit werkje voor-
komende.
Beteekenis der verkortingen.
:
z. zelfstandig naamwoord.
bv. bijvoegelijk woord.
bw. bijwoord.
vz. voorzetfels.
mv. meervoud.
Door dit teeken
0. t. onvolmaakte sijd,
dw. deelwoord.
b. w. bedrijvend werkwoord.
o. w. onzijdig werkwoord.
f. figuurlijk.
·
wordt de ſcherp - korte, door
de ſcherp -
lange, toon van eenen klinker aangeduid. Dech is de uitspraak:
der enkele klanken op meer wijzen onderfcheiden, welke de laer"
meester best mondeling doet kennen.
་
A
+
A, (niet bepalend lidwoord)
een, eene; voor woorden, die
met eene klinkletter of ftom-
meh beginnen, an; an ass an
ignorant boy, een ezel, een on-
wotende jongen; an hour, cen
uar; 2) in plaats van het be-
palend lidwoord en van fom-
mige vz., als, twice a (to)
day, tweemaal des daags; there
we go a (on) board a (of)
ship, daar gaan wij aan
boord van een schip, (te
fcheep); he did not go a (on)
hunting, hij ging niet op de
ė
A B
jagt; 3) ook in de zamenfiel-
ling, met zi en werkwoorden,
als: he is yet asleep (in), hij
flaapt nog; he had much ado
(to), hij had veel moeite; they
came a foot (on), zij kwamen
te voet they went a shore (on),
zij gingen aan wal.
to Abandon, b. w. verlaten, o-
vergeven; to abandon one's self
to joy, zich aan de vreugde
overgeven
Abàshed, beſchaamd.
to Abate, o. w. afnemen, ver
mindere; the storm abáted a
Fe 3
little
342
A C
A B
little, de form verminderde
een weinig.
to Abhor, b. w. verfoeijen.
Ability, z. bekwaamheid, go.
fchiktheid.
Able, bv. bekwaam, vermogend,
in faat.
Abóde, z. woning, verblijf.
to Abòlish, b. w. vernietigen,
affchaffen; to abolish a bad
custom een kwaad of Recht
gebruik affchaffen.
Abòminable, b. v. affchuwelijk.
to Abòminate, b. w. verfoeijen.
Abòrtive, f. mislukt, to prove
abortive, mislukken.
-
to Abound, b. w. overvloedig
(van iets) voorzien zijn 2) 0.
w.overvloedig voorhanden zijn,
in overvloed aanwezig zijn.
Aboút, vs. om, rondom ; about
vê,
his waist, om zijn middel, z)
van daar ook: bij, I have no
money about me, ik heb geen
gold bij mij; 3) tegon,(nabij
den tijd); about noon, tegen
don middag, 4) aan, bij, met
aitduiding van plaats; about
the port, bij de haven; about
the fields, in de veldon, 5) o-
ten aanzien van, we-
gens; what I told you about
cod, wat ik u wegens den ftok-
visch verteld heb, 6) onge-
veer, omtrent; of about six
dollars value, van de waarde
yan omtrent zes kroonen; bw.
om, rondom, ergens, waar ;
to run about, in het rond loopen,
waar ergens ; where about the
ship was, waar zich het fchip be
yond, ) met het werkw. to Be
beteekent het: voornemens zijn;
he was about to go, hij ftond
op ziju verorek.
|
Abdve, vz. boven (cene plaats
aanduidende); above his ca-
vern, boven zijne ſpelonk; to
keep a ship above water, een
Schip boven water, een Schip
vlor houden, 2) meer dan (tijd
aanduidende); above six hours,
meer dan zes uren; vóór, bo•
ven, eerst;
eerst; above all things
voor alle dingen, vooreerst,
a) boyes; above mentioned,
bovengemeld.
Abroad, bw. buiten, uit, bui-
tenshuis; to go abroad, uit.
gaan.
Abruptly, bw. plotselijk, onyers
wachts, onverhoods.
Absence, z. de afwezigheid.
Absent, bv. afwezig.
Absolute, bv. onbeperkt; an ab
solute king, ein
een vrijmagtig
koning.
Absolutely, bw,volftrekt.
Absorbed, dw. van to absorb,
absorbed in thoughts, in ge-
dachten verzonken, in dieps
gedachten.
Abundance, z. de overvloed.
to Abuse, bw. misbruiken.
Abúse, z. het misbruik.
Abyss, z. de afgrond.
to Accèpt, b. w. aannemen, (met
of), I should accept of your
present? ik zoude uw geſchenk
aannemen?
Acceptable, bv. aannemelijk,
aangenaam, welkom.
Accident, z. het toeval.
Accidentally, bw. toevallig, bij
toeval.
to Accòmpany, bw. vergezellen,
geleiden, gezelschap houden.
to Accomplish, bw. tot fand
brengen, voltooijen; volledig
maken.
Ac
A C
343
A D
Accomplishment, z. de verval- ¡
ling; the accomplishment of this
precept, de nakoming, in acht
neming van deze raadgeving.
Accord, z. eigenlijk, overeen-
fremming; if you do it of your
own accord, indien gij her
vrijwillig doet.
According, dw. overcenfemmen.
de, (met: to) according to.
naar, volgens; according to
his custom, Baar zijne ge-
woonte.
Accordingly, bw. dienvolgens,
naar mate daaryan', gevolge-
lijk.
to Account, bw. f. (mer: for),
be was to account for it, hij
moest daarvan rekenſchap ge-
ven.
Account, z. eens rekening, f.
sekenfchap; account of time,
sijdrokening; 23 de narigs,
uitkomst, 3) de oorzaak, re
de, gronds upon this account,
om deze reden; on what account,
om welke reden; on his ac-
count, om zijnent wille;
account of the rain, sit hoofde
van den regen.
on
to Acccátre, bw. fieren, tooi-
jen, optooijen.
Accoutrement, 2. de uitrusting ›
toerusting.
to Accuse, b. w. aanklagen, bc.
fchuldigen, 2) to accase one's
self, zich zelven verwijten.
to Accùstom, b. w. gewennen.
Accustomed, dw. gewend.
Ache, áke, z. aanhoudende pijn ;
the headake, de hoofdpijn.
to Acknowledge, b. w. erken-
nen, met dank erkennen.
Acorn, z. de eikel.
to Acquaint, b. a. bokond ma-
ken, (mer with en of).
Acquaintance, z. kennis; 2) een
bekende.
Acquainted, dw. bekend; he got
acquainted with him, hij ge•`
raakte met hem in kennis.
to Acquièsce, b. w. (mer ià en
to) zich iets laten welgeval-
len, iets toeftemmen.
to Acquire, b. w. verkrijgen,
bekomen.
Across, bw. dwars, kruiswijze ;
with his arms accross, met zij-
ne armen over elkander Ba
flagen.
to Act, b. w. handelen; - eenig
karakter voorstellen; to act
the king, den koning voorfiel-
len, de rol eens konings ſpelen.
Act, z. cene handeling, dead.
Action, z. eene handeling, wer-
king; een-gevecht; a bloody
G
action, een bloedig gevecht.
Active, bv. werkzaam, ijverig.
Activity, z. werkzaambeid, bem
hendigheid.
Actually, bw. werkelijk.
to Adapt, b. w. ſchikken; aan
passen (mes to).
to Add, b. w. bijvoegen.
to Addict, b. w. wijden, toem
wijden.
to Address, b. w. rigten; he ad
dressed his prayers to God, hij
rigtte zijne gebeden tot God;
2) als wederkeerig werkw, to
address one's self to some body,
zich tot iemand wenden.
Address, z. bekwaamheid, kunst.
Adieu, bw. vaarwel; to bid
adieu, vaarwel zeggen.
Acknowledgement, z. de dank- | Adjoining, dw. vam to adjoin,
baarheid.
EC 4
aashori, aangrinaind; the
ado
344
A G
AD
adjoining piece, het aanhoori- | Afar, bw. verre; from afar, vas
ge Auk,
:
to Adjourn, b. w. verfchaiven,
tot op eenen anderen dag uit-
fellen.
Asmirably, bw. bewonderens-
waardig..
to Admire, b. w. bewonderen.
to Admit, b. w. to admit one,
iemand toelaten, ontvangen.
to Admorish, b. w. raden, waar-
Schuwen.
Admonition, z. de raad, waar-
fchuwing.
Ado, (in plaats van to do),
moeite; after much ado, met
groote moeite.
t› Adòre, b. w. aanbidden.
to Adorn, b. w. verfieren.
Adrift, bw. weg, voort; to set
adrift, laten drijven.
to Advance, b. w. voerwaarts
brengen, bevorderen; 2) o. w.
vorderen, voortrukken, voort.
gaan; the day was already far
advanced, de dag was reeds
grootendeels verloopen.
Advancement, z. de vordering;
wasdom.
Advantage, z. lies voordeel; to
take advantage of a thing, zich
iets ten nutte maken.
Advantageously, bw. voordelig,
met voordeel.
Adventure, z. toeval; avontuur,
gebeurtenis.
Adversity, z. wederwaardigheid,
tagenspoed.
Advice, z. de raadgeving; – de
narigt.
Advisible, bv. raadzaam.
to Advise, b. w. raden; to
advise with one's pillow, zich
op iets beflapon, iets in het
bed overleggen.
verre.
Affability, z. Spaarzaamheid.
Affair, z. eene bezigheid, zaak.
to Affèct, b. w. treffen.
Affècted, dw. den fchijn van iets
hebbende, gemaakt; affected sèn-
sibility, gemaakte gevoeligheid.
Affèction, z. de aandoening; 2)
toegenegenheid, teodorheid.
Affirmation, z. de bevestiging.
Affirmative, by. ook als zeifftan-
dig gebruikelijk; to be ans-
wered in the affirmative
bevestigend antwoord krijgen.
to Afflict, b. w. bedroeyen,
krenken.
cen
Affliction, z. hartzeer; droefheid.
Affluence, z. de overvloed.
to Afford, b. w. voortbrengen.
to Affeight, b. w. verfchrikken,
bevreesd maken.
Affright, z. de fchrik, plotfelij-
ke vrees.
Alloát, bw. ylat
Afloat, bw. vlot, (drijvend);
they got the boat afloat, zij
maakten de boot wederom vlot.
Afráid, bv. bevreesd, bang; he
was afraid of the winter, hij
was voor den winter beducht.
After, vz..na, achter (van plaats
Sprekende), bw. na, nader-
hand, (van tijd ſprekenda),
als voegwoord, nadat.
Afternoon, z. de namiddag.
Afterwards, bw. naderhand,
daarna.
Again, bw. weder, op nieuw,
nog eens.
Against, vz, tegen, 2) f. aan
(ook: segen), I will fix the
map against the tree, ik zal de
landkaart aan den boom vast
maken.
Age, z, de ouderdom; he was se
A G
845
A L
venteen years of age, hij was
zeventien jaren oud; 2) het
tijdperk, tijdruim, tijdvak,
de eeuw;
the present age, de
tegenwoordige eeuw.
Aged, bv. bejaard, oud.
to Agitate, b. w. in beweging
Stellen, brengen; the storm a-
gitated the sea, de ftorm deed
de zee woelon; a) f. in hevi
ge gemoed beweging, ontroerd
zijn; to be agitated in one's
mind,
Agitation, z. f. de ontroering;
agitation of blood, hevige be-
weging van het bloed.
Agó, bw. verleden, verloopen,
geleden; long ago, lang gele-
den, voor langen tijd, federt
lang; two years ago, federt
(voor) twee jaren.
Agony, z. de doodsangst, het
zieliogon; 1) alle hevige
3)
Smart, agony of grief, groote
angst, diepe (gemoeds-)[mart,
diepe droefheid.
to Agrée, o. w. ovarcenftem12 0 17,
2) in eensgezindheid met el-
kauder løyen; the goat agreed
with the lamas, de geit leefde
de geit leefde
vreedzaam met de lama's, 3)
toafemmen, bewilligen; to
agree to a proposal, zijne toe-
Bemming tot eenig voorfiel
geven.
Agreeable, bv. aangenaam.
Agreeably, bw. op eens aangena-
a
me wijze, aangenaam.
Agréed, dw. it was agreed upon,
men was overeengekomen;
greed, als tusfchenwerpfel :
Fiat, ik fem toe!
Agréement, z. de overeenkomst,
het verdrag, de fchikking.
Agriculture, z. de landbouw,
|
Ague, z. eene bij afwisseling
heese en koude koorts.
Ah, (tusschenwerpsel) ha! ach!
Aim, z. het doel; he took his aim
•
better, hij mikte beser.
Air, z. het voorkomen, het ui.
terlijke; an air of familiarity,
een vertrouwelijk, gemeen
zzam, voorkomen.
Air, z. de lucht.
Ake, zie Ache.
.
to Alarm, b. w. doen ontroeren,
doen ontstellen, fchrik ver-
wekken.
Alarm,
Schrik.
z. de ontroering,
.
de
Alas! (tusfchenw.) helgas!
Alíve, bv. lavend, levendig.
All, bv. al, allen, alles; all of
you, gij allen; 2) het geheel,
geheel en al; all night, denge-
heelen nacht; not at all, is
het geheel niet; 3) als 2.;
they have packed up their alls,
zij hebben hunne biezen ge-
pakt (zijn met zak en pak
vertrokken); bw. 2007, ges
heel; all on a sudden, gehool
onverwacht.
to Alay
to Alay, b. w. verminderen; to
allay the violence of his hunger,
zijnen Scherpen honger ſtillen.
to Alleviate, b. w. verligten; an
alleviating sevant,
Alleviation, z. de verligting.
Alley, z. eene laan.
toe-
to Allów, bw. toeftemmen, er-
kennen; a) vergunnen,
ftaan; he was allowed to play,
het fond hem vrij, men yer-
gunde hem te spelen."
Allowable, bv. geoorloofd.
All-seeing, bv. alziende, alwa-
send.
to Allule (mert to), met bedos-
E e 5
ling ›
346
AN
A L
1
ling, betrekking tot iets fpro-
ken.
toestand verbeteren; 2) o. w.
beter worden, zich beteren.
to Alläre, b. w. lokken, mis- Amendment, z. de verbetering,
leidon.
All-wise, bv. alwijs, alwetend.
Ally, z. de bondgenoot.
Almanack, z. de Almanak.
Almighty, bv. almagtig.
Almond, z. de amandel.
Almost, bw. bijna.
Alóne, bv. en bw. alleen; let
them alone, laat hen begaan,
laat hen mot rust.
Alòng, bw. langs; 2) in gezel-
ſchap, mede; if he would go
along with him, of hij met
hem wilde mode gaan. AANM.
het yz. with mag niet wegge-
laten worden. He took them
along with him home, hij nam
hen met zich (mede) naar huis.
Aloud, bw. luid, luidkeels, hard
hard op.
Already, bw. reeds.
Also, bw. ook, even zoo.
to Alter, b. w. veranderen; his
circumstances were altered, zij
me omstandigheden waren ver-
anderd.
Alternately, bw. bij afwisseling,
beurtelings.
Although, althó, voegw. hoewel,
niettegenstaande.
Always, bw.altoos, altijd, fleeds.
Am; I am, ik ben ; van het workw.
to Be
to Aráze, b. w. doen verbazen; |
he was amazed, hij was ver-
baasd.
Amazomert, z. de verbazing; a)
de ontroering.
Amèo, tw. amen! het zij zoo!
God geve het!
to Amend, b. w. verbeteren; to
amend his condition, zijnen
|
Amènds, z. voldoening, vorgoe.
ding; to make one's self amends,
zich fchadeloos ftellos.
Amèrica, z. Amerika; an ameri
can, een amerikaan.
Amiss, bw. ongepast, kwalijk,
onvoegzaam, it would not be
amiss, hot ware niet kwalijk.
Ammunition, ammunitie >
Z.
krijgsvoorraad, kruid en leod.
Amòng, amongst, vz. onder, të
midden van.
Ample, bv. wijd, ruim; a) rijā
kelijk; to make one's self ample
amends, zich rijkelijk ſchade-
loos ftellen.
to Amúse, b. w. zich tijdkorting
verfchaffen.
Amú sement, z. het tijdverdrijf.
An, zie A, eon, eene, eenen.
Anchor, z. het anker; to cast
anchor, het anker werpen; to
weigh anchor, het anker ligten.
Ancient, bv. oud, van den ou-
den tijd.
Anciently, bw. in vorige, in ou
de tijden, certijds, oudtijds.
Ancle, zie Ankle.
And, (voegw.) en.
Auéw, bw. op nieuws, nogmaals.
Anger, z. toorn, gramſchap.
Angry, bv. toornig.
Anguish, z. de angst.
Animal, z. hes dier; bv. dierlijk.
to Animate, b. w. bezielen, a)
aanmoedigen, opwekken, aan.
Sporen.
Ankle, ancle, z. de enkel (van
een voet)
Aurals, z. mv. de jaarboeken.
to Annex, b. w. bijvoegen, aan.
hungen.
to
A P
347
A P
so Announce, b. w. aankondigen,
berigt geven van.
Annual, bv. jaarlijksch,
Acother, bw. een ander; one
another, elkander.
8)
to Answer, b. w. antwoorden, a)
f. beantwoorden, vervullen;
to answer an end, aan een doel,
oogmerk beantwoorden ССЛЕ
beſtemming vervullen. To anse
wer the same purpose, tot het.
zelfde oogmerk dienen.
Answer, z. het antwoord.
Answerable, bv. verantwoorde-
lijk, 2) beantwoordende, evan-
redig, overeenkomftig.
Antic, antick, bv. ouderwets,
zonderling; antick gestures, be-
lagchelijke gebaarden.
to Anticipiate, b. w. vervroegen,
vooraf genicsen; he anticipated
the joy, hijfmaakte reeds voor-
af de vreugde.
Antidote, z. een tegengif, olk
géne csmiddel
hetwelk eenige
ziekte of kwaal tegengaat; con
hulpmiddel.
Antipode, bv. tegenovergesteld;
Z. een tegenvoeter, f. hes se-
gendeel (van iets).
Anvil, z. het aambeeld,
Anxiety, z. de angst.
Anxious, bv. ongerust, bezorgd.
Anxiously, bw. met angst, zon-
der rust.
Auy, bv. ieder; 2) iemand; any
where, ergens ; 3) voor den
vergelijkonden trap: iets, oem
weinig; any more, iets meer;
any longer, iets langer.
Ape, z. de aap.
Appear, o. w. verſchijnen, s)
blijken.
Appearance, z. de verſchijning;
he made his appearance, hij ver-
het
fcheen; ) het aanzien,
voorkomen; his appearance was
majestic, zijn voorkomen was
odel; 3) de schijn; in all appea-
rance, naar allen fshijë.
Appetite, z. ceslast, honger.
Apple, z. de appel.
Appletree, z. een appelboom.
Application, z. de vlijt, werk-
zaamheid, naarftigheid.
to Apply, b. w. zijne opmerk-
zaamheid op iets vestigen, zich
toeleggen; he applied to learn-
ing, hij leide zich op het lee-
ren toe; 2) tot iemand ver-
voegen.
to Appoint, b. w. bepalen; the
day was appointed, de dag was
bepaald; 2) beſtellen, aanftel
lan; people are appointed, de
lieden zijn aangefield.
to Apprehend, b. w. reszen.
Appretènsion, z. de vrees.
Apprehensive, bv. bevreesd.
Apprentice, z. de leerling, leer-
jongen; to biod one's self ap-
prentice, zich als leerling ver-
binden.
to Apprize, b. w. berigt geven,
melden.
to Approach, b. w. saderen.
Approach, z. de aannadering.
Approbation, z. de goedkeuring.
to Appropriate, b. w. zich rocei-
gonen, nazien.
to Approve (meest met: of),
goedkeuren, billijken;
I ap-
prove of it, ik billijk het.
Apron, z. het fchort, de voor
School.
Apc, bv. bekwaam, 2) tot iets
genegen; one is often apt to
think, men is dikwijls genegen
om te gelooven, men zou dik-
wijls denken.
Ar.
348
A S
AR
Arbiter
regter.
z. de fcheidsman, de
Arbour, z. ben pricel.
Arcadia, z. Arkadien (een land-
fchap in Peloponnezus, de ze-
tel van het herderlijke leven
bij oude dichters; f. een denk-
beeldig land van onfchuld en
je gd).
Architecture, z. de bouwkunst.
Ardent, bv. vurig, innig.
Ardently, bw. vuriglijk.
Ardour, z. de histo, innigheid.
to Argue, b. w. befluiten, opma“
ken, afleiden.
to Arise, o. w. opgaan, rijzen;
the sun arose, de zon ging op;
2) ontstaan; there arose a bus-
tle, er ontfond een gedruisch.
Arm, z. de arm (gedeelte van
het n enfchelijk ligchaam), 2)
de arm van eene rivier, the
arm of a current.
to Arm, b. w. bewapenen.
Armour, z. de wapenrussing, het
harnas.
Arms, z. mv. de wapenen.
Army, z. eene armee, een leger.
Aróse, o. t. van to Arise.
Around, bw. rondom; 2) vz om;
around him, om hem heen.
to Arrange, b, w. fchikken, in
orde brengen.
Arrangement, z. fchikking, in-
rigting.
Arrival, z de aankomst.
to Arrive, o. w, aankomen.
Arrow, z. de pijl.
Article, z. het punt, het artis
kel, de voorwaarde.
Artificial, bv. kunftig; the arti-
ficial wants, gekunftelde of door
kunst ontstane behoeften.
Artist, z. een kunftenaar, am-
bachtsman.
As, (voegw.) als, (bij vergelij·
kingen, wanneer het dubbel.
Raat, wordt het eerfte door
zoo vertaald): they ran as fast
as they could, zij liepen zoo
hard als zij konden; 2) 201 >
gelijk; even as you please, zoo
als het u behaagt; as it were,
als ware het, bijna als of;
3) as for, as to, wat betr
betreft,
ten aanzien van; 4) daar,
toen, terwijl; just as he spoke,
juist terwijl hij ſprak; 5) so
as, 200
200 dat; 6) fomtijds
is het overtollig as yet, nog•
to Ascend, o. w. en b. w. be-
klimmen, opklimmen.
"
to Ascertain, b. w. verzekeren,
bevestigen, bepalen.
to Ascribe, b. w. 10efchrijven.
Ashamed, bv. befchaamd.
Ashes, z. mv. de asch.
Ashore, bw. aan den wal, aan
het strand, ean land.
Aside, bw. op zijde, zijdelings;
2) ter zijde.
to Ask, b. w. 1) vragen, 2) ver"
zoeken, eifchen, verlangen.
Asleep, bw. in flaap; he is yet
asleep, hij flaapt nog; he fell
asleep, hij viel in flaap.
Arrogant, bv. trotsch, hoog- Aspect, z. het uitzigt, het aan-
moedig.
Art, z. de kunst; liberal arts,
de
vrije kunften.
Artery, z. de polsader; the bear-
ing of the artery, het flaán der
polsader, de polsflag.
zion.
Aspen, z. con abeelboom, popu.
lierboom; he trembled like an
aspen leaf, hij boefde als een
riet.
Ass, z. de ezel.
Asa
A S
349
AT
Assemblage, z. de verzameling,
bijeenkomst.
to Assemble, b. w. vergaderen,
verzamelen; o.w.bijeenkomen
Asɛèmbly, z. de vergadering, het
gezelschap.
Assènt, z. 1) de toestemming, 2)
.
de goedkeuring; all gave their
assent, allen gaven hunne toe-
femming.
to Assènt, b. w. toeftemmen,
goedkeuren.
Assiduity, z. onafgebroken vlijt,
onvermoeide ijver.
Assiduous, bv. ijverig, vlijtig.
to Assist, b. w. bijftaan.
Assistance, z. de bijstand, de
hulp.
Assistant, z. de helper, mede-
helper.
to Assuage, b. w. leenigen, ver-
minderen.
to Assume, b. w. aannemen.
Assurance, z. vertrouwen, ger
rustheid, 2) verzekering.
to Assire, b. w. verzekeren.
ge||
to Astonish, b. w. doen verba-
zen, ontzetten.
Astonishing, dw. verbazend, ont-
zettend.
Astòjishment, z. verbazing, ont-
zetting.
Astray, bw. verdwaald, dwa-
lend; to go astray, op den
dwaalweg gaan, dwalen,
Asunder, bw. gefcheiden, afge
zonderd.
op
der tijd; at these words,
deze woorden, bij deze woor-
den; at length, ten laatfte, ain-
delijk; at last, eindelijk, tem
flotte; at first, aanvankelijk,
in het begin, eerst; 3) eens
gemoedsbeweging bij iets aan.
toonende; to laugh at a thing,
over iets lagchen; to laugh
at one, iemand uitlagchen; 4)
at once eensklaps, op een-
maal; at least, ten minste.
Are, o. t. van to eat.
Atlantic, bv. the atlantic ocean,
de atlantische zee.
0972 >
to A tack, b. w. aantasten, aan-
vallen.
Atrack, z. de aanval.
to Attáin, b. w. en o. w. (als
w. met to), bereiken, tot iets
geraken.
to Attempt, b. w. beproeven,
pogen, eene poging doen.
Attèmpt, z. de poging.
to Artènd, b.
b. w. vergezellen
geleiden, ook f., attended with
inconveniences, met zwarigheid
gepaard. Ook to Attend on, tos
iemand of iets behooren, £ f
naar zich trekken.
At èntion, z.de opmerkzaamheid.
Asentive, bv. opmerkzaam.
to Attract, b. w. aantrekken,
naar zich trekken, 2) lokken.
Attractive, bv, aaslokkelijk.
to Augment, b. w. vermeerderen,
o. w. meer worden, toenemen,
zich vermeenigvuldigen.
Aukward, awkward, bv. onhan-
dig, onhebbelijk.
Authentick, bv.echt, geloofwaaT-
dig; an authentic account, cen
echt, geloofwaardig, berigt,
At, vz. tot, te, aan, in, bij,
op, enz. 1) eene plaats aan.
duidende at Hamburgh, te
Hamburg; at table, aan 18.
fel; at sea, in zee; at the fol-
lowing page, op de volgende
bladzijde; 2) tijd aanwijzen- | Author, z. de veroorzaker, 2, de
ſchrijver, anthear.
de; at the same time, ter zelf-
Ff
As
350
A U
A V
Authority, z. het gezag, het aan-
zion; 2) de hoogste magt, royal
authority.
Autumn, z. de herfst.
to Aváil, b. w. en o. w. baten,
what does it avail me? wat baat
het mij?
Avenger, z. de wreeker.
Avèrse bv. to be averse (mer
>
>
from en to), afkeerig zijn
iets ongaarne of met tegenzin
doen.
to Avóid, b. w. mijden, vormij-
den.
to Await, b. w. verwachten, af
wachten, op iets wachten.
to Awake, b. w. wekken, wak-
ker maken, o. w. ontwaken,
de o. t. awoke, begint te ver-
ouderen.
Awake, bv. wakker,
Awake, bv. wakker, ontwaakt.
Aware, bw. to be aware, gewaar
worden, bemerken, bewust zijn.
Away, bv. weg.
Avèrsion, z. de afkeer, tegen- Awe, z. de eerbied, ootmoed.
zin.
Avidity, z. de gretigheid, de
hebzucht.
Back, z. de rug.
Back, bw. terug; we shall soon
be back again, wij zullen in
korten tijd terug komen.
Backward, bw, ruggewaarts, te-
rug, achterwaarts; backward
and forward, heen en weder.
Báde, 0. t. van to Bid.
Bad, bv. flecht, (vergelijkende
trap worse, flechter, erger;
overtreffende trap, worst,
flechtfte, ergfte).
to Baffle, b. w. yerijdelen; his
hopes were baffled, zijne ver-
wachtingen werden, zijne hoop
sverd, te leur gefteld, verij-
deld; ook: he saw himself baff-
led in his hopes.
Bag, z. do zak, tasch; a hun-
ter's bag, eene wijtasch.
Bailiwick, z. het ambt, baljuw-
Schap, of Rizzebuttle, her
ambt Ritze buttel.
to Bake, b. w. bakken.
B.
Awhile in plaats van a while,
een tijdlang.
Awkward, zie Tukward.
Ay, ja.
Baker, z. de bakker.
Bále, z. de baal, het pak.
Ball, z. de kogel.
Balm, z de balfem.
Baltic, z. de oosszee, ook Bal-
tic sea.
to Banish, b. w. verbannen, ver“
jagen.
Bank, z. de oever, voornamelijk
van rivieren, 2) een zandbank.
Bankrupt, z. een bankeroetier;
to become bankrupt, bankroet
maken, bankroet zijn.
Bar, z. eene Stang, Aaaf; iron
bars, ijzeren ſtaven, 2) een
balk; a warping-bar, een we-
versboom.
Barbadoes, Barbados, een eiland
in de Westindien.
Barbarian, z. een wilde, een bar.
baar.
Barbarian, bv. barbaarsch,wreed.
Bàrbarous, bv. wreed, wild, on
menfchelijk.
Bá
BA
35I
BA
Báre, bv. raakt, onbekleed; 2)
with his bare hands, met zijne
bloote handen.
Barefoot, bv. bleotvoets.
Bargain, z. een koop, overeen-
komst; fig. he gave him many
good lessons into the bargain,
hij gaf hem nog daarenboven
verfcheidene goede lesfen.
Bark, z. de fchors, bast; oaken
bark, eikenbast, run.
to Bark, o. w. blaffen; the dog
fell a barking, de hond begon
fterk te blaffen.
Bàrley, z. garṣt.
Barrel, z. een vat, eene ten.
Barren, bv. onvruchtbaar.
Barrow, z. cene baar, berrie,
draagbaar; a wheel-barrow,
een kruiwagen.
to Barter, b. w. en o. w.ruilen,
inruilen.
Báse, bv. flecht, laag, laaghar-
tig.
Básely, bw. op eene laaghartige
wijze.
Båseness, z. - laaghartigheid
laagheid.
>
Bashfulness, z. befchroomdheid,
befchaamdheid.
Básis, z. de grond, de grondflag.
Basket, z. de mand, de korf.
Basketmaker, z. een mandemaker.
Basketmaking, z. het mandenma-
ker.
Basket work, z. manden werk,
mandenmakers werk.
Bass, z.bastmat, eene kerkmat.
to Baste, b. w. het gebraad aan
het Spit met boter of vet be-
Sprengen. R. basted his meat
with sea water, R. besprenkel-
de zijn vleesch met zeewater.
Bach, z. het bad.
o Eathe, b. w. baden, zich ba-
den;
-with wine, met war™
men wijn baden.
Battle, z. het gevecht, de flag,
Báy, z. de baai, bogt, kleine
zeeboezem.
to Bé, o. w. zijn of wezen (go-
heel onregelmatig) - met het
dw., whilst he was working,
terwijl hij werkte, onder zijn
werk, gedurende zijnen ar-
beid; whilst I am telling, ter-
wijl ik vertel, - met de on-
bepaalde wijs; he is to blame,
hij is te berispen, hij ver-
dient berispt te worden; I am
to make, ik moet maken; 2)
worden; he wished to be a sol-
dier, hij wenschte een foldaat
te worden.
Beach, z. het strand, de vlakke
oever.
Beacon, z. de vuurbaak, de vuur-
toren.
Béad, z. kleine kogel, korrel,
knopje; glassbeads, glaskora-
len, glaskraaltjes.
Béak, z. de bek, de ſnavel.
Beam, z. de balk, 2) de licht-
ftraal; sunbeams, zonnestralen.
Béan, z. de bocn; french beans,
roomfche boonen.
—
to Bear, b. w. dragen, f. ver-
dragen; 2) aan zich hebben;
to bear resemblance, gelijkheid
hebben, gelijken; a relation,
betrekkelijk zijn, vermaag-
fchapt zijn; 3) 0. w. flagen,
wel uitvallen, gelukken; to
bring a thing to bear, iets tat
ftand brengen; 4) to bear away,
wegslepen, medeflspen, vours-
of weg voeren.
Beard, z. de baard.
Bearded, bv. gebaard, met eenen
baard voorzien.
Ff2
Beard.
352
BE
BE
Béardless, bv. zonder baard.
Beast, z. een dier.
to Béat, b. w. flaan, 2) klop.
pen; R. beat his meat, R. klop-
ie zijn vleesch ; f.
your heart
with delight,
for joy, uw
hart zal van vreugde kloppen.
Beautiful, bv. fchoon, fraai.
Beauty, z. fchoonheid.
Became, o. t. van to Become.
Because, voegw. omdat, wijl.
to Beckon, b. w. eno. w. wenkon.
10 Become, o. w. werden; to
become bankrupt, bankroet ma-
ken; 2) to become of, de uit-
gang,
het gevolg van iets
zijn; what will become of you?
wat Zal er van u worden?
what became of him? what is
er van hem geworden? 3) b.
W.
betamen; with becoming
respect, met behoorlijken eer-
bied.
Bèd, z. het bed, de legerstede,
2) een tuinbad; flower beds,
bloembedden.
to Bedaub. bedawb, b. w. bc-
fmeren.
Bèdchamber, z. de Naapkamer.
to Bedéw, b. w. bevochtigen, be-
Sproeijen.
Bedfellow, z. do flaapmakker,
bedgenoot.
Bedside, z. on his bedside, naast
zijn bed, voor zijn bed.
Bie, z. de honigbij.
Béen, dw. van to Be.
Béer, z. het bier.
to Befall, o. w. bejegenen, we
dervaren, overkomen; this mis-
fortune would not have befallen
you, dit ongeluk zoude u niet
getroffen hebben.
Before, vz. voor, (van tijd of
plaats Sprekende) bw.oer,
vroeger dan, te voren.
?
Beforehand, bw. vooraf, voor.
uit; I knew beforehand that
B. was to come, ik wist voor
af dat B. zoude komen.
to Befriend, b. w. begunstigen;
no wink of sleep befriended his
eyes, geen flaap freelde zijne
oogen.
to Bèg, b. w. verzoeken.
Began, o. t. van to Begin.
Réggar, z. een bedelaar.
to Begin, b. w. en o. w. aanyan-
gen, beginnen.
Beginner, z. een beginner, een
nieuweling.
Beginning, z. het begin, de aan-
vang.
>
Beghn, dw. van to Begin.
Behalf z. voordeel, behoef,
nut; in our behalf, ten behoe-
ve van ons, ten onzen your.
deele; in his behalf, en zij-
nen behoeve.
to Behave, b. w. zich gedragen;
to behave kindly towards one,
zich jegens iemand vriendelijk
gedragen.
Beláviour, z. het gedrag, de han-
delwijze.
Beeld, dw, van to Behold.
Behind, vz. achter, bw. terug;
he left him behind, hij liet
hem tersg.
wen,
to Behold, b. w. zien, beſchou-
de gebiedende wijs be-
hold, als tusfchenwerpfel ge.
bruikt, beteekent: zie eens,
zie daar!
Béing, dw. van to Be, zijnde ;
being overheated, verhit zijnde.
Being, z. het aanwezig zijn,
het bestaan; 2) een wezen
iets dat beftaat.
Beliéf, z. het geloof.
to Believe, b. w. en o. w. ge-
looven.
Co
BE
353
BE
to Bellow, o. w. blaeten, brul-
len.
Bellows, z. mv. de blaasbalg,
ook wel: a pair of bellows.
Belly, z. de buik; to eat one's
belly full, zijn buik vol, zijn
genoegen eten.
to Belòng, o. w. toebehooren,
behooren.
Beloved, dw. ook als bv. be-
mind, waard, dierbaar.
Belów, vz. ouder, bw. beneden,
om laag.
to Bend, b. w. buigen; to bend
a bow, den boog Spannen, 2)
naar zeker punt rigten; he
bent his way to his habitation,
hij floeg den weg naar zijne
woning in; his mind was bent
upon it, zijne gedachten wà-
ren daarop bepaald.
hij deed zijn best om spoedig
te huis te komen, hij ging 200
Spoedig als hem mogelijk was
naar huis, 3) bw. best; we
had best, het beste dat wij
doen konden, wij zouden best
doen.
to Bestów, b. w. (met on, upon ),
bedoelen, toevoegen, geven.
to Betáte, wederk. w. zich bege-
ven; he betook himself to rest,
hij begaf zich ter rust.
to Bethink, wederk. w. zich be-
zinnen, zich bedenken; he be-
thought himself of another ex-
pedient, hij bragt zich een
ander middel te binnen.
Bethought, o. t. van to Bethink.
Betime, Betimes, bw. bij tijds,
tijdig, 2) vroeg; he rose be-
times, hij ftond vroeg op
Beneath, vz. onder, bw. bene- Betóken, dw. van to Betake.
den, omlaag.
Benefactor, z. do weldoener.
Benefit, z. de weldaad.
Benèvolence, z. de weldadigheid.
Benévolent. bv. weldadig.
Bent, dw. yan to Bend, his knces
were beat in gratitude, dank.
baar boog hij zijne knie.
Benumbed, Beuùmmed, dw. ver.
fjfd, verkleumd.
to Beseech, b. w. fmeken, bid-
den, dringend verzoeken.
Betook, o. t. van to Betake.
to Betray, b. w. verraden ; 2)
ontrouw, trouweloos jegensie-
mand worden,
to Betrust, b. w. toe of aaxver-
trouwen.
Better, bv. en bw. vergelijkonde
trap van good; the sooner the
better, hoe eer hoe beter, hoe
cer hoe liever; to get the bet-
ter of, overtreffen, de loef af-
Beken.
Beside, B: ides, vz. naast, bij, | Between, vz. tusfchen.
bw. bovendien, daarenboven.
to Besiége, b. w. belegaren.
to Bespeak, b. w. bestellen, be-
Sproken; to bespeak a place on
board a ship, cene plaats aan
boord van een fchip beftellen.
Best, bv. overtreffende trap van
good, het, de beste; 2) 2. the
best, his best, zijn best; he
made the best of his way home,
A
}
to Beware, o. w. zich hoeder,
zich wachten; beware of that,
wees daarvoor op awe hoeds
wacht u daarvoor, beware of
falling sick, wordt niet ziek,
to Bewdil, b. w. betreuren, be-
weenen.
to Bewitch, b. w. betooveren.
Beyond, vz, aangene zijde, over
vooruit.
Ff3
to
354
во
ΒΙ
to Bid, b. w. verzoeken, 2) be.
velen; 3) to bid one farewell,
to bid one adieu, iemand vaar-
wel zoggen, affcheid van ie-
mand nemen.
Big, bv. groot, dik.
Bigger, verg. trap van Big, the
bigger, z. de grootten (onder
de jonge lieden).
Bigness, z. grootte, dikte.
Bill, z. de fnavel, de bek.
Billow, z. de baar,
z. de baar, golfa
to Bind, b. w. binden, zamen.
binden, 2) f. verbinden; to
bind one's self an apprentice,
zich als leerling in dienst be-
geven.
Binding, z. het binden, do band.
Birchen, bv. birchen bark, ber-
kenfchors.
Bird, z. de vogel.
Earth, z..de geboorte; birthday,
de geboortedag, de verjaardag
van iemands geboorte.
B.scait, z. beſchuit, tweebak,
Scheepsbeschuit, fcheepsbrood.
Bit, z. eene beet, een mondvol ;
a bit of bread, cene bete broods;
2) een stukje; a bit of iron,
sen flukje ijzer.
Bitter, bv. bitter.
Bitterness, z. de bitterheid, 2)
kommer, droefheid, verdriet.
Black, bv. zwart.
Black, z. een zwarte, een ne-
gor, een moor.
to Blame, b. w. laken, berispen,
afkeuren.
Blámeable, bv. laakbaar, beris"
pelijk, frafbaar.
Blast, z. ket blazen van den
wind, een harde wind, con
rukwind:
Blázc, z. de brand; a ship all in
a blaze, een fchip in lichter
laaijer vlamme.
to Bléat, o. w. blaten (als de
Schapen).
:
to Blèss, b. w. zegenen, geluk.
kig maken; bless me! lieve
hemel!
Blessing, z. de zegen, 2) het ge-
luk, de welvaart, het welzijn.
Blew, o. t. van to Blow.
Blind, bv. blind.
Blister, z. eigenlijk eene blaas
maar ook datgene hetwelk bla-
zen trekt of zuigt, een trek-
pleister, Spaanfche vlieg.
Blockhead, z. een domoor, een
frommeling.
B'òod, z. het bloed.
>
Bloodshed, z. het bloedftorten.)
| Bloody, bv. bloedig.
Blossom, z. de bloesem.
Blotch Z. cone zweer
"
buil.
Blów, z. een flag, foot, houw.
to Blów, o. w. waaijen, bla-
zen; the wind blew, de wind
woei of waaide, 2) opvliegen
(van buskruid fprekende); the
ship blew up, het schip Sprong
in de lucht, 3) bw. f. to blow
ont one's brains, iemand eene
kogel door den kop jagen.
Blówn, dw. van to Blow.
Blue, bv. bladuw.
Blunder, z. een grove misflag,
domme ftreek.
Board, z. cene plank, een deel,
2) de rand van een ſchip, het
boord; to go on board, asu
boord gaan; to cast over board.
over boord werpen.
to Búast, b. w. ce o. w. (met
of), zich beroemen.
Boat, z. de boot; het fchip.
Bodily, bv. ligchamelijk; bo-
dily exercises, ligchaamsoefe.
mix.
BO
355
BR
ningen; bodily strength, lige, Bottle, z.
Bottle, z.
chaamskrachten.
Body, z. hes ligchaam, het lijf;
>
a dead body, cen lijk, 2) een
perfoon, van daar: some body,
iemand; nobody, niemand, 3)
eene menigte perfonen als:
the body of the clergy, het lig
chaam der geestelijkheid.
to Boil, o. w. kokon; the water
began to boil, het water be-
gon te koken, 2) b. w. koken;
to boil meat, vleesch koken.
Bold, bv. koen, driest, onver-
fchrokken, vrijpostig, vrij.
moedig, rockeloos.
Boldly, bw. op eene vrijmoedi-
ge, drieste wijzs.
ecne flesch
ecne flesch; a bottle
of wine, eene flasch wijn, do
bodem van de zee; he went to
the bottom, hij ging te grön-
de, hij verzonk.
Bough, z. de tak van cenes
boom.
Bòught, o. t. van to Buy.
Bounce! uitroeping om eenigen
plotfelijken flag te kennen te
gevens
Bound, dw, en o. t. van to Bind,
the ship was bound to Amster-
dam, het fchip was naar Am-
fterdam beftemd.
Bound, z. de grensfcheiding,
grens, grenspaal.
Boldness, z. onbevreesdheid,vrij- Bountiful, bv. mild, grootmoe
moedigheid.
Bolt, z. de grendel; with strong
iron bolts, met fterke ijzeren
grendels.
Bind, z. de band.
Bóne, z. cen been, (deel van het
gebeente): whalebone, balein
of walvischbeer; fishbones,
graten, (vischgraten).
B ok, z. het boek.
Boón, z. het gefchenk, de gift.
Boot, z. de laars; halfboots,
halye laarzen,
Boty, z. de buit.
Bóre, dw. yan to Bear.
to Bore, b. w. boren.
Bare, z. de boor.
Born, Borne, dw. van to Bear,
the ship was born by a strong
tide, het fchip werd door ec-
nen hoogen vloed voortgedre-
ven, 2) geboren.
to Borrow, b. w. borgen, lee-
nen, (ontleenon).
Búsom, z. de boezem, de borst.
Both, bv. boide.
|
dig, weldadig.
Bountifully, bw. grootmoediglijk,
milddadiglijk.
Bounty, z. mildheid, goedheid.
to Bow, (aitgeſpreken als bou),
b. w. en o. w. buigen.
B'w, (uitgesproken als boo), z.
en boog.
Bower, z. een pricel, zomer-
huisje.
Bowl, z eene kom.
Bowl, z. sene kogel, een bal,
een bol.
Bowsprit, z. de boegſpriet.
Box, z. eene doos, een koker.
B`y, z. een jongen, een knaap ;
my boy, lieve jongen!
Bráce, z. een paar; a brace of
pistols, een paar pistolên.
Bráidstitch, z. de kettingftrek.
Brain
Bráin, z. de hersenen; wanneer
men de verstandelijke vermo-
gen wil te kennen geven, heeft
dit woord moest het mv., ic
puzzled his brains, hij brak
zich het hoofd daarover; his
Ff4
+
A
brains
356
BR
BR
1
brains worked heeft dezelfde | Breast, z. de borst.\
bersekonis.
Brake, z. eene braak, het werk-
tuig waarmede men vlas of
hennip braakt.
Bramble, Z. een braambezien.
fruik.
Bran, z. zemelen.
Branch,
boom.
z. de tak van eenen
Brand, z. de brand.
to Brandish, b. w. zwaaijen; to
brandish a lance cene lans,
cenc Speer zwaaijen; to bran-
dish a sword, een zwaard of
drgen zwaaijen.
Brandy, z. brandowijn.
Brasil, z. Brazilie (in Zuida-
merika).
Brave, by. moedig, koon, 2)
braaf, cerlijk.
to Br ve, b. w. uitdagen, trot-
Seren, het hoofd bieden.
Bravely, bw. dapper, onverfchrok-
ken, bruaf.
Bravery, z. de dapperheid, moed.
Bravo, tusfchenw. bravo! voor-
treffelijk.
Bread, z. brood; brown bread,
roggen brood, zwart brood.
Beadtree, z. de broodboom.
Breadth, z. de breedte.
to Break, b. w. an o. w. broken,
verbreken, verfcheuren; the
cable broke, de kabel brak; to
break down, afbreken, omha-
len, 2) fig. het aanbreken (van
den dag); when the day brake,
toen de dag aanbrak; to break
loose, losbreken, losbarsten.
Break, z. de breuk; 2) the break
of day, het kricken, het aan-
breken van den dag.
Breakfast, z. het ontbijt.
to Breakfast, b. w. ontbijten,
zich ontnachteren.
Breastwork, z. de borstweer, da
verfchanfing.
Breath z. de adem; to draw
breath, adem halen; he was
out of breath, 2) een zacht
windje, een luchtje.
to Breathe, o. w. ademen, adem
fcheppen, adem halen, 2) b.
w inademen, 3) uitademen.
Breathless, bv, ademloos, buiten
adem.
Bred, o. t. en dw. van to Breed.
Breeches, z. mv. de brook; a pair
of breeches, eene broek; riding
breeches, cene rijbroek.
to Bréed, b. w. opvoeden, groot
brengen; tenderly bred up,
weekelijk opgevoed, teederlijk
opgevoed.
Brethren, z. broeders, Leone on
regelmatige vorm van het my.
van brother).
Bick, z. een bakfcen, brikſeen,
klinker, tigchel.
:
Bicklayer, z. een metselaar.
Bickmaker, z. cen steenbakker.
Bickwall, z. een fteenen mupṛ.
Bidge, z. do brug; a draw brid-
ge, een ophaalbrug.
Bright, bv. holder, blinkend,
Blank.
B.instone, z. de zwavel.
to B lug, b. w、 brengen; to bring
about, (even als to bring to
bear), tot stand brengen; to
bring up, opvoeden, groot
brengen.
Brink, z. de rand; the brink of
a precipice, de rand van cenen
afgrond.
Brisk, bv. levendig; a brisk fire,
een vrolijk vuur.
Broad, z. breed; 2) broad day,
klaar
RU
357
BU
klaar lichten dag; 3) a broad-
sword, een fabel, pallasi.
Broke, o. t. van to Break.
Broken, dw, yan to Break.
Bróker, z. de makelaar.
Brook, z. cene beek, kleine ri-
vier.
Broth, Z. vleeschnat.
Brother, z. de broeder.
Brotherly, bv. broederlijk.
Brought, o. t. en dw. van to
Bring.
Brów, z. het voorhoofd, 2) het
gcheele aangezigt; by the sweat
of his brow, in het zweet zijns
aanfchijns.
Bundle, z. een bundel, bosch.
Burden, z. de last, het pak, de
vracht.
B rdensome, bv. zwaar, lastig.
Burried, dw. van to Bury.
to Barn, o. w. branden; the fire
is bu ning on, het vuur blijft
voortbranden; 2) b. w. ver.
branden, he had burnt his hands,
hij had zijne handen verbrand;
to burn one's brick, zijne bak-
Aeenon, tigchels bakken; to
bura lime, kalk branden.
Burning, bv. en dw. gloeijend
branden; the burning heat, de
brandende hitte.
Brown, bv. bruin; brown bread, Burnt, o. t. en dw. van to Burn.
zwart brood.
to Bruise, b. w., kneuzen; be
was braised by falling, hij had
zich in het vallen bezeerd.
Bruise, z. eene kneuzing, cene
ligte wonde.
Brush, z. de borstel.
Brutal, bv. wild, becstachtig,
wreed.
Brutality, z, wreedheid, onmen-
fchelijkheid.
Rúte, z. een beest, een reden.
loos dier.
Brútish, bv. beestachtig, dom,
wild.
Brutishness, z. wilde, beestach.
tige wreedheid.
to Bulble, o. w. opborrelen.
to Barst, o. w. barsten; 2) f. to
burst into tears, in tranen nit-
barfen.
Burst, o. t. en dw. yan to Burst.
Barthen, zie Burden.
Barthensome, zie Burden.
to Bury, b. w. begraven.
B sh, z. de fruik, het kreupel-
hout.
Bushel, z. een ſchepel.
Busily, bv. ijverig, druk; be
was busily employed, hij was
druk bezig.
Business, z. de bezigheid; upon
some business, om eene of an-
dere zaak, bezigheid.
Buskin, 2. eene halve laars.
B sile, z. het geraas, godruisch.
to Bad, o. w. knopjes uitſchio- | Basy, bv. bezig; to be busy with
ten, uitbatten.
to B ild, b. w. bouwen.
Builder, z. een bouwer, bouw-
meester, bouwheer.
Bilding, z. het bouwen, 2) het
gebouw.
Built, o. t. en dw. van to Build.
Bulb, z. een uijs, een bol, (wor-
tel van cenige plant).
a ching, met iets bezig zijn,
2) werkzaam ›
to Busy, b. w. to busy himself,
zich bemoeijen.
Bat,
FES
maar, doch, 2) flechts
maar; I have but three guineas:
ik heb flechts drie guineas,
3) ware het niet om, sier ws-
gens; but for the storm, ward
358
BY
BU
er geen form geweest; (we-
gens de overige beteekenisfen
van dit voegwoord, zie de
Spraakkunst).
to Butcher, b. w. flagten.
Butter, z. de boter.
Buttermilk, z. de karnmelk.
to Button, b. w. toeknoopen.
to Bay, b. w. koopen.
By, vz. bij, (eene plaats aan.
duidende); he lives by himself,
hij woont alleen, 2) bij, (tijd
aanwijzende); by break of day,
bij het aanbreken van den
dg; by this time, om dezen
tijd, nu, thans, 3) door, door
middel van; by degrees, traps-
in gec.
gewijzi; by no means,
nerlei wijze, in het geheel
niet.
CA
Cabin, z. de kajuit.
Cable, z. het ankertoaw, de ka-
bel, het kabeltouw. Gewoon
lijk is het 600 voeten, of 120
vademen lang, weshalve men
hetzelve aan boord der Sche-
pen als eenen maatstaf voor.
andere lengten bezigt; they
had scarce rowed four cables
length from the ship.
Cacao, z. de kakao, (de vrucht
waarvan de chocolade voorṇa-
melijk bereid wordt).
Cage, z. cene kooi.
Calendar, z. een almanak, tijd-
wijzer.
to Calculate, b. w. berekenen.
Calamity, z. het ongeluk, de we-
derwaardigheid, tegenstand.
to Call, o. w. en b. w. roepen,
Schreeuwen; to call to, toc-
roepen, 2) noemen.
Calling, z. het beroep, de roe-
ping.
Calm, bv. ftil, kalm, gerust.
Calm, z. de kalmte, file.
to Calm, bw. gerust fellen, ftil-
len, bevredigen.
Cáme, o. t. van to Come.
Camel, z. do kameel.
CA
Camerade, beter Comrade, Z. ka“
meraad, makker.
Campeche, (van het Spaansch
Campechio), z. het, in het
Amerikaansch gewest Campe.
che te huis hoorende, verw.
hout, Brazilienhout, ook Log-
wood, zie Logwood.
to Can, o. w. kunnen; I cannot
but, ik moes.
Canal, z. eene gracht, eene bree-
de gracht, een kanaal.
Cànarybird, z. cen kanarievogel.
the Canaryislands, z. mv. de Ka.
narifche eilanden.
Candle, z. de kaars; by candle-
light, bij het kaarslicht.
Candour, z. opregtheid.
Cine, z. rotting, riet; sugar-
cane, fuikerriet.
Cannibal, z. een inwoner van de
Caraïbifche eilanden, een ka·
nibaal, menfchenster.
Cannon, z. een stuk gef.hut, cen
kanon, (a piece of cannon).
Cannonball, z. sen kanonkogel.
Canóe, z. eene kano, eene door
wilden vervaardigde boot.
Canopy, z. the canopy of heaven,
de sterrenhemel; under the ca.
no.
CA
859
CA
nopy of heaven, onder den bloo- | Careless, bv. zorgeloos, onbe-
ten hemel.
Can't, in plaats van Cannot.
Cap, z. de muts; to pull off one's
cap, zijne muts afnemen.
Capable, bv. (met: of) bekwaam,
in faat.
Capacious, bv, ruim.
Capacity, z. de bekwaamheid,
het vermogen.
Cápe, z. een voorgebergte, cene
kaap; Cape - verd Islands, de
Kaapverdische eilanden, de
eilanden van het groene voor.
gebergte.
to Caper, o. w. Springen, hup
pelen.
Captain, z. de fcheepskapisein.
Captive, z. een gevangene.
Captive, bv. gevangen; the cap-
tive lama, het gevangene lama.
Capuvity, z. de gevangenfchap.
Caracter, zie Character.
Caravan, z. eene karavane, een
gezelschap van reizigers of
reizende perfonen, die zich
tot onderlinge veiligheid ver-
cenigen.
Carcass, z. een dood ligchaam,
een lijk.
Cardamomum, z. (als Kardamum
uitgesproken), paradijskoren,
zeker graan.
Cáre, z. zorg, zorgvuldigheid; |
to take care, zorg dragen, 2)
voorzigtigheid.
to Care, o. w. zorgen, 201g
dragen.
kommerd, achteloos.
Carelessness, z. zorgeloosheid,
achteloosheid.
to Carèss, b. w. liefkozen, fire-
len.
Carèss, z. liefkozing.
Cargo, z. de lading van een
Schip.
Caribée, z. een der Karaïbiſche
eilanden in Westindien.
Carpenter, z. een timmerman
Scheepstimmerman; carpenter's
work, timmermanswerk, tim-
merwerk.
Carpet, z. het vloerkleed, ta.
pijt; f. there was something
upon the carpet, er was iets
agaande, er was iets op her
sapijt.
Carriage, z. voerwerk, rijtuig,
2) een affuit.
to Carry, b. w. voeren, gelei-
den, a) rijden, varen, weg-
voeren, 3) dragen, 4) f. in
het werk ftellen, ten uitvoer
brengen; to carry one's point,
zijn oogmerk bereiken, 5)
(mer off), wegflepen; the con.
sumption carried him off, ds
sering fleepte hem in het graf,
6) (met on), voortvaren,
voortzetten, vervolgen.
Càrt, z. de kar; a carthorse, esn
karrepaard.
to Carve, z. Snijden, aan ftuk-
ken snijden, 2) fierlijk befnij❤
den, infnijden.
Careful, bv. zorgvuldig, bekom-Case,
mard, behoedzaam, vlijtig;
|
"
z. het geval; in case, in
gsval.
careful of his life, voor zijn Cast, z. een vat.
leven zorgende.
Carefully, bw. zorgvuldiglijk,
voorzigtiglijk, 2) angftig-
lijk.
to Càst, b. w. werpen, linge-
ren; to cast anchor, her anker
werpen; a lance, eene lans
werpen; £ to cast a look, com
blik
360
CH
CE
blik werpen; 2) to cast down
One's eyes, zijne oogen noder-
faar; 8) to cast forth fire
vuur aitwerpen,
vuar bra
uitwer-
ken; 4) to cast up,
I
pen, opwerpen.
Castle', z. een flot, een kasteel.
Cat, z. de kat.
to Càtch, b. w. vangen; 2) f. to
catch fire, yunr patton; to
catch cold, koude vatten, ver-
koud worden.
:
Catchéek, z. een Kazike, Cazi-
ke (een Mexikaansch vorst).
Catholick, a Roman catholick, z.
een Roomschgezinde.
Cattle, z. tam vee, kudden,
Cave, z. een onderaardsch hol,
2) een kelder.
Càrern,
z. eene Spelonk, esn
hol.
Caught, o t.en dw.van to Catch.
Cavity, z. de holte, het hol.
Cause, z. de oorzaak, de grond,
de rede.
to Cause, b. w. veroorzaken,
bewerken.
Caution, z. voorzorg, voorzig-
tigheid.
to Caution, b. w. waarschuwen.
Cautious, bv. voorzigtig", bc-
hoedzaam, waakzaam.
to Céase, o. w. ophouden, (ge
woonlijk met from), the wind
céases, de wind gaat liggen.
to Celebrate, b. w. vieren, pleg-
tig vieren.
Celerity, z. Spoed, fchielijkheid.
fnelheid, gezwindheid.
Cellar, z. de kelder.
to Cènsure, b. w. laken, be-
rispen.
Centinel, z. (ook Centry), de
Schildwacht.
Century, z. ecne eeuw.
Cèremony, z. plegtigheid, pligts
pleging; without any ceremony,
zonder pligtplegingen.
Cèrtain, bv. zeker; I know it for
certain, ik weet het zeker, 3)
ook in eenen onbepaalden zin,
gelijk het Hollandfche woord
zeker; a certain kind of clay,
zekere foort van vette klei.
Certainly, bw. zekerlijk.
Cèrtainty z. de zekerheid.
to Cháce, (chase), b. w. jagen,
drijven; to chase away, ver-
jagen, verdrijven.
Cháce, z de jagt.
to Chafe, b. w. door wrijven
verwarmen.
Ch in, z. de ketting, 2) cons
reeks van met elkander ver-
bondene zaken of dingen;
chain of rocks, cene koten van
Fotfen, een rif.
Ch is, z. de ftoel.
to Challenge, b. w. tot den ftrijd
uitdagen.
Chamber. Z. de kamer; bed.
chamber,
de slaapkamer ; a
va'et de chamber, een kamer•
dienaar.
Champion, z. de kamprechter.
Chance, z. de kans, het geval,
toeval, geluk; by chance, soc"
valligerwijze, bij toeval.
to Chance, o. w. toevallig go-
beuren, voorvallen; he chan-
ced to have, hij had bij toe-
val; I may chance to fall,
gelijk val ik.
mo
to Change, b. w. veranderen,
verwisselen, railen; to change
a mouse into a bird, sene muis
in eenen vogel veranderen, 2)
o. w. zich veranderen.
Chioge, z. de verandering, vor-
wisfeling.
Chà.
CH
361
CH
Channel, z. de zeeengte, en be-
paaldelijk de zecëngte tusfchen
Engeland en Frankrijk,
kanaal.
het
Chapter, z. het hoofdfuk, ka-
pirrel.
Character, z. their comrades gave
them the best character, hunne
kameraden gaven het beste ge-
tuigenis van hen, besuigden
dat zij brave, eerlijke lieden |
Waren.
to Charge, b. w. laden, bela-
den, een goweer of naphaan
laden, iets opdragen of belas-
ten met iets.
Charge, z. de last, lading,
vracht, 2) het ambt, de waar-
digheid, eerpost, 3) kes op.
zigt, de zorg.
Cheer, z.
ken; to make good cheer, heer-
lijk eten, fmullen.
ijs, eten en drin.
to Cheer, b. w. opwekken, be-
moedigen, opruimen, vrolijk
maken, to cheer one's mind,
zijnen geest vervrolijken, 2)
o. w. vrolijk worden; cheer
up! heifa, laat ons vrolijk
zijn! houdt goeden moed!
Cheerful, bv. vrolijk, opgeruimd,
blijde.
Cheerfully, bw. met blijdschap.
Cheerfulness, Z. vrolijkheid,
blijdschap.
Cheerly, bw. vrolijk, met blijd-
Schap.
Cheese, z. de kaas.
to Chèrish, b. w. koesteren, var-
warmen.
Chargeable, by, tot last, lastig, | Chèst, z. de kas, de kist.
- bezwaarlijk.
Charm, z. de bekoorlijkheid.
to Charm, b. w. bakoren, inne-
men, besooveren.
Charming, bv. bekoorlijk, aller-
liefst.
Charm (uitgesproken als Kasm),
z. het vak, de ledige ruimte,
de gaping.
to Chatter, to Chat, o. w. pra-
sen, kouten, babbelen.
Chief, bv. hoofdzakelijk, voer.
naamfte; his chief business was,
zijne voorsaamfte bezighei2
bestond in; the chief contents
het hoofdzakelijke van den in-
houd.
Chief, z. de voornaamste perſoon,
opperbevelhebber.
Chiefly, bw. voornamelijk, in-
zonderheid.
Child, z. het kind.
Chattering, z. het gepraat, het Childhood, z. de kindfchejaren,
gebabbel.
de kindsheid.
Chéarful, bv. (ook cheerful), zie | Childish, bv. kindsch, kinder-
Cheerful en volg.
to Cheat, b. w. bedriegen.
achtig.
van
Children, z. mv. van Child.
Chéat, z. bedriegerij, het be. Chimney, z. de fchoorsteen.
rog, 2) een bedrieger.
to Chéck, b. w. te keer gaan,
kearen, fluiten, terug hou.
den;
to check one's indigna-
tion, zijne verontwaardiging |
verbergen.
Cheek, z. de wang, de koon.
Chimèrical, bv. (uitgeſp, also
Kunerical), herſenſchimmig
ongegro d, lidel, ingebeeld.
Của, z. de kin.
Colsel, de boitel.
Chocolate, z. de chocolade.
Choice, z. de keuze, verkiezing.
Cheice,
362
CL
CI
Choice, bv. uitgelezen, uitge-to Civilize, b. w. befchaven.
Rocks, voortreffelojk; the choi-
cest blessingh, de beste zegen.
to Choose, to Chuse, b. w. kie
Zen, verkiezen, willen, ver-
Sangen, wenfchen; he chose
rother to play than to work, hij
wilde liever spelen dan wer-
ken; if you chuse it, indien
gij het verlangt, als het u
behaagt.
Chóse, o. t. van to Choose.
Chosen, dw. van to Choose.
Christian, z. een christen; bv.
christelijk.
Church, z. do kerk.
Churchyard, z. hes kerkhof.
Chain, z. de kern, het kernvat,
do boterkern.
to Chura, b. w. kernen, boter
makes.
to Chise, zie to Choose.
Cinder, z. de kool, (van vaur).
Cinnamon, z. de kaneel.
Circle, z. de kring, firkel.
Circuit, z. de omtrek.
Circular, bv. firkelvormig, rond.
Circumference, z. de omtrek, om-
yang.
Circumspèction, z. de voorzigtige
beid, omzigtigheid.
Circumstance, z. de omftandig-
heid, a) my. toestand, mot be-
arekking tot vermogen; his
circumstances were altered, zijn
Booff and was veranderd.
Circumstantial, bv. omftandig ; a
circumstantial account, een om-
Bandig verbaal of berigt.
Cisars, z. my. de ſchaar.
Citizen a. de burger fellow-
citizen, modeburger,
Cley, 2. do ftad.
j
Civil, bv, burgerlijk, a) beleefd,
willayand, befchoofd.
to Clamber, b. w. met moeite be▪
klimmen, beklouteren.
to Clap, b. w. flaan; clapping
their bands, met de hander
klappende ; 2) he clapt the
match to the touch - hole, hij
bragt de lont aan het zundgar.
Clap, Z. een flag; a clap of
thunder, een donderslag.
to Clasp, b. w. clasped hands,
gevouwene handen.
to Clatter, b. w. ratelen, klet
teren, geraas maken als mes
wapenen enz.
Clattering, z. clattering of arms,
een wapengekletter.
Cláw, z. de klaaw.
Clay, z. de leem, klei, pot-
aarde.
Cléan, bv. zindelijk, fchoon,
rein; clean linen, fchoon lin-
nen.
to Clean, b. w. zuiveren, ſchoon
maken, wasfchen, reinigen.
Cléaner, z. iemand die zuivert
of fchoonmaakt; a cleaner of
flax, iemand die het vlas zuš-
VBTS.
Clear, bv. helder, klaar, rein,
zuiver, 2) opgeruimd, vro-
lijk, §) vrij van gevaar; they
got alcar of the sandbank, zij
maakten zich van de zandbank
los, 4) duidelijk, luid, helder
(van klank); a clear voice, ee.
ne heldere ftem.
to Clear, o. helder worden,
opklaron; the shy cleared up,
do lucht werd holder, 2) b. w.
heldar maken, ophelderen, 3)
zuiveren, reinigen, ontdoen,
vrijmaken, ontlasten, he clear-
ed his cave from the rubbish,
kif suiverde zijnhel van de pwin
Clear
CL
363
CƠ
Clearly, b. duidelijk, oogen-
ſchijnlijk.
to Cleave, b. w. klooven, ſpliji
ten ; to cleave wook, hout
klooven.
Clergyman, z. een geestelijke.
Clerk, z. (uitgeſpr. als Klaark),
een klerk, koopmans of kay-
toorbediende.
Clèver, bw. knap, handig; ah
clever! mooi geraden.
Cliff, z. de klip, ffeile rats.
Climate, z. de luchsgefteldheid,
het klimaat, de luchtftroek.
tô Climb, b. w. en 0. w. beklim"
men, opklimmen.
to Cling, o. w. aan iets hangen;
where they cling to the rocks,
waar zij (de oesters) aan de
rotfen klaven.
Cloath, zie Cloth.
Clock, z. klok, uurwerk, horo-
logie; at two o'clock (at two
on the clock), ten twee aren.
Clèd, z. de kluit, aardkleit.
to Close, b. w. fluiten, toefui-
ten.
Close, z. het beſlaît, ks: prinde;
the close of the day, het einde
van den dag, de avondſchens
ring.
Close, bv. ingefloten, befloten,
2) digt, vast; to draw close,
wast te trekken, 3) na bij el-
kander, digt bij; close by A-
merica, nabij Amerika; a clo-
se fighting, een handgevecht,
4) geheim, verborgen; to keep
close, geheim houden.
Closely, bw. naauw, eng; clo-
sely united, naauw verbonden,
naauw met elkander vereenigd. |
Cloth, z. de ftoffe, het laken,
- hes laken, 2) de kleeding,
Woch meer gebruikelijk in het
mv. Clothes, a suit of clothes,
een volledig kleed); to put on
one's clothes, zich kleeden; to
pull off one's clothes, zich ons-
kleeden.
to Clothe, b. w. kleeden
Cloud, z. de wolk.
Gloudy, bw. bewolkt, betrokken,
the sky becomes cloudy, de lucht
betrekt, wordt met wolken be-
dekt.
Clove, z. de kruïdnagel.
Club, z. de knots, knappet.
| Clùng, dw. en o. t. yan to Cling.
C'ùster, z. de druiventros.
Coach, z. de koets.
Cual, z. de kool, fteenkool, vuur-
kool.
Coarse, bv. grof (van stoffen),
2) a coarse voice, eene ruw?,
grove stem, 2) lomp, plomp',
ongemanierd.
Coast, z. de kust.
Coat, z. de rok; coatpocket, de
rokzak.
Cock, z. de haan.
Cockleshells, z. fchulpen, mos“
felfchulpen.
Cocoa, Cocoa nut, zde kokos.
10080
Cócoatree, z. de kokosboom, CET
no foort van palmboom.
Còd, zi ftokvisch, gedroogde ka-
beljaauw.
Còdfisher, z. een fokvischvan-
ger, kabeljaauwvanger.
Còdfishery, z. de ftokvischyangst,
kabeljaauwyangst.
Còd, z. de peul, de fchil.
Còffee, z. de koffij.
Cogitation, z. de gedachte, over-
denking; absorbed in despond-
ing cogitations, in wanhopige
gepeins verzonken,
Gg #
to
364
со
CO
to Cỏin, b. w. munien, geld-
faan, tempelen.
nieren; to take comfort, moed
vatten.
Cóin, z. gemunt geld; in coin, Còmfortable, bv. troostrijk, 2')
in klinkende munt.
Cóld, bv. koud.
Cold, z. de koude; to die of cold,
van koude sterven, 2) de ver-
kouding; R. will get a cold,
R. zai koude vatten.
to Collect, b. w. verzamelen,
bijeenbrengen.
Collection, z. ecñe verzameling.
Colony, z. cene volkplanting,
kolonie.
Colour, z. de kleur.
to Colour, b. w. verwen, kleu-
ren; coloured, gekleurd, bont;
coloured stones, bonte foenen.
Comb, z. de kam.
Combatant, z. de ftrijder, ftrij-
dende.
Combustible, bv. brandbaar.
to Come, o. w. komen; to come
off, van afkomen, wegkomen,
wegraken; the time to come,
de toekomst; all what is to co-
me, al wat nog toekomende is,
al wat er gebeuren zal; when
you come to be better instruct
ed, wanneer gij beter onder.
rigt zult zijn.
Comely, bv. aangenaam, beval
lig; a comely, handsome young
man, een bevallig jongeling.
to Comfort, b. w. verkwikken,
fterken, 2) troosten, 3) ver-
blijden; to be comforted with
sleep, door den flaap verkwikt
worden.
Comfort, z. de hulp, a) troost,
3) vermaak, geluk; the com-
fort of his fellowcreatures assis-
tance, het geluk van de hulp
zijner medefchepfelen te ge-
aangenaam, verblijdend, ge.
noegelijk; the comfortable voi-
ce of a friend, de aangename
ften eenes vriends; a comfor-
table supper, een aangenaam,
Smakelijk, genoegelijk avond-
a comfortable state of
life, een zorgenvrij, onbekom-
merd, gerust, aangenaam leven.
Comfortably, bw. op cone aange-
name wijže.
eten ;
Comfortless, bv. troosteloos.
Còmical, bv. grappig, aardig,
boldgchelijk.
to Command, b. w. bevolen; to
command a ship, het bevel over
een schip voeren, 2) beft rije
ken; two cannons commanded
the right flank, twee kanonnen
boftreken de regter zijde.
Command, z. het bevel.
Commander, z. de bevelhebber.
to Commènce, b. w. beginnen,
aanvangen.
to Commend, z. aanbevelen, aan-
prijzen, prijzen.
| Commendable, o. loffelijk, prijs-
waardig.
>
Commentary, z uitlegging, ver-
klaring, verklarende aas-
merking.
Commerce, z. de koophandel,
handel.
Commission, z. de last, gedra-
gene boodschap of werkzaam-
heid, 2) het begaan; the com-
mission of a fault, het begaan
eener dwaling.
!
to Commit, b. w. toevertrouwen,
opdragen, belasten ; 2) to com-
mit a fault, a blunder, a cri.
me, eenen uitslag, eene lampe
four.
CO
365
CO
faut, eene misdaad begaan of Complaining, z. de klagt, her
plegen.
Commodious, bv. gemakkelijk.
Commodiously, bw. gemakkelijk.
Commodity, z. gemakkelijkheid.
Còmmon, bv. gemoen; common
sense, het natuurlijk of ge-
zond verftand, 2) gemeenschap-
pelijk, 3) algemeen.
Commosly, bw. gemeenlijk, ge•
woonlijk.
Commotion, z. beweging,
011-
rust, volksbeweging, 2) ge-
meedsbeweging, ontroering.
to Communicate, b. w. mededeelen.
Companion, z. de makker, ge-
zel, kameraad.
Company, z. het gezelfchap.
to Compáre,. b. w. vergelijken.
Comparison, z. de vergelijking.
to Compass, b. w. omringen,
omgeven, omvatten, infchie-
ton, 2) too geraken, berei.
den, verkrijgen; that we can
all compass, daartoe kunnen
wij alle geraken, dat kennen
wij allen bereiken.
Compass, z. de kring, de om.
trek, 2) het kompas, (de mag-
rectnaald in derzelver doos,
dienende tot aanwijzing var
het Noorden).
•
Compassion, z. lat medelijden,
de ontferming; to have come
passion on one, medelijden met
iemand hebben.
Compassionate, bv. medelijdend.
to Compèl, b. w.dwingen, nood-
zaken.
Competent, bv. regtmatig,
LB
hoorlijk, voldoende; a compe-
tent fluency in reading, eens ge-
veiligheid in het
1100g zame
lezen.
to Complain, o. w. over iets kla-
gen, zich beklagen,
klagen,
Complaint, z. zie Complaining.
Compléat, zie Complete.
Complete, bv. volledig, volko.
men a complete idea, een vol-
ftandig begrip.
to Compléte, b. w. volledig ma-
kon, voltooijen, 2) tet ftand
brengen, voleindigen.
Complétely, bw. geheel, vol.
komen.
Complexion, z. de kleur van het
aangezigt.
Compliment, Z. groet; to send
one's compliments, zijnen grost,
zijne groetenis zenden.
to Comply, b. w. (met with), o.
voreenfiemmen, toeftaan, zich
laten welgevallen.
to Compose, b. w. opfielleu, ver.
vaardigen, 2) toebereiden, ge-
reed maken; to compose one's
self to sleep, zich tot flapen
ſchikken.
Composed, dw. zamengefteld, bri
faande; to be composed, be-
Haan.
Composure, z. with the greatest
composure, met de grootte be-
daardheid, met de grootste gen
rustheid.
to Comprehend, o. w. in zich he,
vatten; inhouden, 2) begrij.
pen, bevatten, verstaan.
Comprehensible, bv. bevattelijk.
Comprised, dw. bevat, begrepen.
Computation, z. da berekening.
to Compute, b. w. rekenen, be-
rekenen.
Comrade, z. kameraad, makker.
Concavity, z. de holte.
to Conceal, b. w. verbergen.
Concéit, z. de voorfelling, het
G g 3
be-
366
CO
CO
grip ,´2) het verftand, het
voorstellingsvermogen.
,
to Conceive b. w. begrijpen,
bevatten, verftaan, inzien;
to conceive an idea, op eene ge-
dachte komen.
to Concentrate, b. w. te zamen"
trekken, op een punt veree-
nigen.
to Concèrn, b. w. aangaan, be-
treffen, 2) verontrusten, bo-
droeven; to be concerned, be.
kommerd zijn, verlegen zijn,
(met about).
Concèrning, dw. betreffende, aan-
gaande.
Concèrted, dw. a well concèrted
ރ
plan, een wel overlegd plan.
to Conclúde, b. w. fluiten, be-
fluiten, $) eindigen.
Conclusion, z. de beflisfing, het
oordeel, 2) het flot, befluis ;
at the conclusion of my narra-
tion, aan het einde van mijn
verhaal.
Concord, z. sendragt, eensge-
zindheid.
Concurrence, z. medewerking,
halp, bijftand.
to Condemm, b. w. veroordeelen..
Condition, z. de gefteldheid eenor
zaak, de toeftand; a walful
condition, een droevige toe-
ftand, 2) de voorwaarde; upon
condition, onder voorwaarde.
Conducive, bv. behulpzaam, be-
vorderlijk.
so Conduct, b. w. leiden, voeren,
brengen.
Conduct, z. het gedrag.
to Confèr, b. w. toedeelen, (met
upon, cn), to caufer a benific,
eene weldaad bewijzen.
o Confèr dignities upon one, waar
digheden aan iemand opdrages.
to Confèss, b. w. bekennen, e7.
kennen.
to Confide, o. w. (met in), zijm
vertrouwen fellen; to confide
in God, op God vertrouwen.
Confidence, z. het vertrouwen.
to Coufine, o, w. nan iets gren.
zen, 2) b. w. influiten, 3) op-
Buiten.
Confinement, z. gevangenschap.
to Confirm, b. w. bevestigen,
2) ook in den zin van fterker
maken, bevestigen.
Conflict, z. het gevecht.,
to Conform, o. w. zich naar idi
rigten, fchikken, infchikken.
Confounded, ontroerd, 3) wan-
hopig; a confounded thing, es❤
ne wanhopige zaak, eens zeer
onaangename zaak.
to Confuse, b. w. verwarren; a
confused noise, een verward
gefchreeuw, een verward go.
raas.
Confusion, z. de verwarring, 2)
beſchaming, ontroering.
to Congratulate, b. w. gelukwen
ſchen.
Cònic, Cònick, bv. kegelvormig;
a conick mountain, cen kegel-
vormige berg.
Conjècture, z. do gisting, her
vermoeden.
to Conjecture, b. w. vermoeden,
vooronderftellen.
Coùjurer, z. een toovenaar.
to Connect, b. w. verbinden;
conneered, verbonden, zaMOR-
hangend.
to Conquer, b. w. overwinnen ;
to conquer ourselves, ons zol-
ven overwinnen.
1-
Conscience, z. het gewetem; li-
berty conscience, vrijheid vas
go.
σο
367
CO
geweten, vrijheid van denk'
wijze.
Conscientiously, bw. met een goed
geweten, in geweten:
Conscious, bw. bewust (met of),
to be conscious of wicked ac-
tions, zich zelven flechte da-
den bewust zijn.
Consciousness, z. bewustheid.
to Consent; b. w. toeftemmen,
inwilligen.
Consent, z toeftemming:
Consequence; › Z.-hei gevolg, 2)
het gewigt; a matter of con
sequence, cene zaak van gewigt.
Consequently, bw. gevolgelijk. ·
Conservation, z. het behoud:
to Consèrve, b. w. bewaren, bes
houden.
Conserver; z. de behouder.
Consider, b. w. beſchouwen, aan-
zien; they were considered as
wise men, zij werden aange
merkt als wijze lieden, 2) be-
denken, overwegen in over-
weging nomen.
Considerable, bv. aanzienlijk,
aanmerkelijk. ·
Considerably, bv. zeer, groote
lijks, aanmerkelijk.
Consideration, z. de bedenking,
overweging.
to Consist, o. w. beftoon,
uit
iets zamengesteld zijn (mesof).
Consistent, bv. beftaanbaar, wat
beftaan kan overeenkomftig
(met iets).
Consolation, z. de troost.
to Console, b. w troosten.
Conspiracy, z. de muiterij, de
opftand, de zamenzwering.
Constancy, z. de flåndvastigheid.
Constant, bv. gedurig, 2; ftand-
vastig; a constant resolutiou,
gen vast befuit, a constant ru-›
!
le, en
vasto felreget, com
onverbrekelijke regel.
Constantly, bw: geduriglijk, fande·
vastiglijk.
Consternation, z. de ontroering,
ontzettings
יין
to Constitute, b. w. inrigten,
ſchikken, aanftellen:
Constitution, z. inrigting, 2)
ligchaamsgefteldheid; to harden
one's constitution, zijn lig-
chaamsgeftel hard maken, fterk
maken, zijne gezondheid vero
fterken.
to
A
Construct, b. ws vervaardiə
gon, boswen.
Construction, z. dë bosworde, sa~-
menstelling.
to Consult, b. we zich beradën,
2)¿ om raad vragen, raadpleċ-
gen; to consult plysicians, ga◄
neesheeren raadplegen.
to Consume, b. w. en or w. yeri
teren, gebruiken, nuttigen.
Consumption, z. de teringziekte. -
Contagion, z befmosting, be-
fmettelijke ziekte.
to Conáin, b. w. inhouden, is
zich bevatten, 2) seraghou
den, beperken.
to Contemplace, b. w. su˚0. W.
beſchouwen, 2) overdenken.
Contemplation, z. beſchouwing;
idle contemplations, kerfen•
Schimmen.
Con èmpt, z. de verachting.
Contemptible, bv. verachtelijki
Content, bv. te vreden.
to Contènt, b. v. te vreden fiél-
len, bevredigen, voldoen.
Content, ze tevredenheid; to his
beart's content, tot zijne inni-
ge tevredenheid; 2) mv. con•
tènts, de inhoud; the chief con
teños, de hoofdzakelijke inhoud.
Q : 4
Сода
363
CO
CO
Contented, bv. en dw. tevreden,
vergenoegd.
Contèatment, z. tevredenheid.
Contèst, z. de twist, tweeftrijd;
a hard contest, een zware ftrijd.
Continent, z. het vaste land.
Continual, bv. gedurig, onop-
houdelijk.
Continually, bw. geduriglijk, zon
der ophouden.
Continuance, z. voortduring.
Continuation, z. de voortduring,
het vervolg.
#
Continue, o. w. voortduren, 2)
b. w. voortzetten, voortvaren,
vervolgen, voortgaan.
Contorion, z. de draai, wending,
buiging.
Contrary, z. het tegendeel; on
the contrary, dòarentegen.
Contrary, bv. tegen; contrary to
their wishes, tegen hunne wen-
fchen, ongunstig; 2) the wind
was contrary, de wind was te-
gin; by contrary winds, door
Begenwinden; a contrary idea,
eene tegenovergestelde meening
Contrast, z. het afflèkendo, het
tegenovergestelde, de togen-
Stelling.
10 Contribute, b. w. en o. w. bij-
dragen.
Contribution, z. bijdrager, 2)
belasting; an annual coutribu.
tion, cone jaarlijkſche ſebat-
ting.
Cout ivance, z. de uitvinding, |
2) de inrigting; a very wise
contrivance eene zeer wijze
inrigting.
to Contrive, b. w. uitvinden,
vorzinnen; he contrived a rape,
hij vond middel om een touw
te maken; how to contrive that,
koe zal men det maken? 2)in• \
rigten; he contrived his kitcheu
30, hij rigtte zijne keuken
200 in.
J
Convéniency, z.gemakkelijkheid.
Convénient, bv. gemakkelijk; a
convénient cellar, een gemok-
kelijke, een goede kelder, 2)
gefchikt, behoorlijk; conveni-
eut measures, gefchikte maats
regelen; convenient weather
gefchikt of gunstig weder.
Convéniently, bw. gemakkelijk,
geſchikt, 2) ter gelegener tijd,
op behoorlijken tijd.
to Convèrse, b. w. Spreken, zich
met´iemand`onderhouden.
Conversation, z. gesprek, onder.
houd.
די
Convert, b. w. veranderen, ver-
wisselen; to convert a thing
into an habit, iess in´eene 20°
woonte doen verkeeren iets
tot eene gewoonte maken, 2)
bedeeren, 3) tot eenig gebruik
aanwenden; to convert to somə
use.
Convéy, b. w. vonren, brengen.
Conviction, z. de overtuiging.
to Convince, b. w overtuigen.
Convulston, z. ſtuip, ftuiptrek-
king.
Cook, z. de kok, keukenmeid.
to Cook, b, w koken.
Cookery, z. het koken, de kook-
kunst; the art of cookery, de
kookkunst.
Coúl, z. de koolte; in the conl
of evening, in de avondkoelte.
to Cool, b. w. verkoelen.
Copie, zie Copy.
Cópiously, bw. rijkelijk, over-
vloedig.
Copper, z. het koper.
Copy, z. een affchrift, eene ko◄
pie, 2) con exemplaar; two
thou.
CO
369
CO
thousand copies of it were print.
ed, twee duizend cxemplaren
werden er van gedrøkt.
to Copy, b. w. navolgen, name-
ken, naapen.
Coral, z. de koraal, kraal, (ze-
ker kolk. of ſteenaardig zee-
gewas).
Cord, z. het koord, het souw,
de ftrik, da fnoer.
Cordial, by. hartversterkend.
Cordial, z. eene hartversterking
Cordilleras, z. de Andes, zekere
hooge bergketen in Zuid- A-
merika,
Corn, z. het koorn; a barley
corn, een-garstenkoorn of ker-
rels, 2) het groan in het al-
gemeen.
༡
Corner, z. een hoek; his musing
corner, zijn peinshock.
Corps, Corpse, & een lijk, dood
ligchaam.
to Corlet, b. w. beftrafen,
Buchtigen, 2) verbeteren; to
correct one by pùzishments, ie-
mand door tuchtigingen our.
beteren.
to- Corrupt, b. w. en o. w. ber
derven.
Corrup er, z, een bedervar.
Corruption, z. hat bederf.
to Cost, o. w. kosten..
Cust, z. de kosten.
Costly, bv. kostelijk, prachtig.
Codch, z. legertede, rustbed;
a couch of hay, een rustbed van
hooi.
to Cover, b. w. bedekken, dek-
ken, toedekken.
Covering, z. het deksel, over-
treksel.
to Covet, b. w. iets begeren,
(meest, van ongeoorloofde be-
geerten ſprekende.
Could, o. t. van Can, he could
not but think, hij kon zich niet
onthouden van te denken, hij
most op de gedachte komen.
Coúnseil, z. raadsvergadering.
Counsel, z. de raad.
to Count, b. w. tellen, z) beren
kenen; he counted his days.
hij telde, berekende zijne
dagen.
Countenance, z. het gelaat, her
gezigt, 2) het voorkomen, with
a cheerful countenance, met een
vrolijk ` gelaatª, 3) bedaardé
heid, gemoedsrust; to put out
of countenance, in verlegen-
heid doen geraken, doen ont
Stellen:
Counter charm, z. tegenbeto ove
ring, onttoovering, bezwering
to Counter charm, b. w.Itegenbe-
tooveren, onttcoveren, de be-
toovering door andere toove
narij doen ophouden.
to Counterfeit, b. w. namaken
navolgen, nabootſen.
Country, z. het land, een land,
2) het land, her platte land,
in tegenstelling van de ſtad;
to live in the country, op het‍
land loven, 3) het vaderland ;
be forgot his country, hij ver❤
gat zijn vaderland.
Country-man, 3: eep landman,
bouwman buisman, boer
country people, landlieden (2)"
de landsman, de landgenoot.
Couple, zo een paar, twee ding
gen van dentelfden aard, 2)
cen paar, eenige; a couple of
times, sen paar malen; 2
couple of miles
2 cen paar
wijlen.
>
•
Courage, z. de moed,onbevressd-
heido-
G 8,5
Con
370
CU
CO
Courageous, bv. moedig, onbe- | Cross, z. het kruisė
vreesd..
Course, z. de loop, 2) de weg
•
van een schip, de koers, 3)
het gevolg, het vervolg; of
Course, bij gevolg, 3) de le-
venswijze; course of life.
Ców, z. de koe.
Còward, z. een lafaard, een
durfniet.
Cowardice, Cowardise, Cowardi-
ze, z. lafhartigheid.
Cowardly, bw. bang, zonder moed.
Crack, z. de krak, een krakend
geluid, 2) als tusfchenw. krak!
3) eene Scheur, barst of spleet.
to Crà k, o. w. kraken.
Cracking, z. het gekraak.
to Cram, bw. Stappen; they cram
med a handkerdiefinto his mouth
zij Stopten eenen zakdoek in
zijnen mond.
Clay, by zianelios.
Cream, z. de room van de melk.
to Create, b. w. ſcheppen,voort.
brengen..
Creation, z. dè fchepping.
Creator, z. de fchepper.
Créature, z. het fchepfel:
Crèditor, z. een schuldeifcher.
Creék, Z. eene kreek,
zeeboezen, cene bogs
•
kleine
to Creep, o. w. kruipen..
Crèpt, o. t. en dw. van to Creep.
Crew, z. het Scheepsvolk.
Cried, o. t. van to Cry.
Crime, z. de misdaad.
Criminal, bv. misdadigy z cen
misdadiger.
2:
Crooked, dwy van to Crook
T
Cross, bv. dwars; crossheams,
dwarsbalken; crossthread, eon
dwaarsdaad.
to Cross, b. w. overgaan;
to'
cross a river, over eene rivier
trekken.
Cr wd, z. een gedrang van mi
fihen.
to Cr wd, o. w. zich dringen,
zamendringen.
eeno
Crown, z. de kroon; a crown of
large leaves, cena kroon van
groote bladen, 2) een geldspar
cie in Engeland van de waarde
van Engelſche Schellingen (34
gulden Hollandsch).
to Crown, b. w. f. bekroonen
beloonen:
Cruelty, z.-de wreedheid.
tc Crash, b. w. kneuzen, kwets
fen, verpletteren; to be crus
hed to death, verpletterd worden
to Cry, o, w. fchreeuwen, roe-
pen; to cry for help, om hulp
fchreeuwen.
•
Cry, z. het gefchreeuw.
Crystal, z. het kristal.
to Cultivate, b. w.
b. w. opbouwen
aanbouwen, aan- of opkwee-
ken; f. to cultivate one's mind,
zijnen geest befchaven.
Cùnning, bv. behendig, a)listig,
fim; the old parrots were too
cunning, a Cunning- man, e01-
waarzegger..
Cap, z. eene kop, een kopjeg
a teacup, eene theekop.
Curd, z. roomkaas.
to Cúre, b. w. heelen, genezen.
krom” gebogen; two croaked ¶ Curiosity, zi de nieuwsgierige
branches, twee krom gobogene
takken; crooked horns, krom
me hoornen.
Crop, ar de eogsto-
heid, weetgierigheid.
Curious, bv. weet of nieawsgierig:
Curled, bv. kroes; curled hair,
kross haar.
Cura
CU
371
1
CU
Current, z. de stroom, de loop
van eene rivier.
Currier, z. een looijer, lecrton-
wer, huidenvetter.
to Carse, b. w. vervloeken, ver-
wenfchen.
Cursed, bw. van to Curse.
wen, afhouwen; to ait down e
mast, eenen mast afhouwen,
kappen; 3) infwijden, inhou.
aven, 4) f. doorfnijden; the
ship cut the waves, het fchip
kliefde de baren; 5) to cut
one off, iemand wegnemen,
an eminence to cut through, eene
hoogte te doorgraven.
Custom, z. de gewoonte, het ge-
bruik.
Customary, bv. gebruikelijk, ge- | Cut, z. de fnode.
woon.
to Cut, b. w. ſnijden, 2) hoa.
Cutlass, z. een hartvanger, 280
ker foort van korten fabel.
DA
Dáily, bv. dagelijksch, bw. das
gelijks.
Dainty, z. lekkernij.
Dainty, bv. letter, kiesch in het
gebruik van spijs en drank; a
dainty palate, een lekkere tong.
Dairy, z. het melkhuis; a dairy-
maid, eene melkmeid.
Damage, z. de fchade, het verlies.
to Damage, b. w. Schade veroor
zaken, beſchadigen; the dà
maged ship, het beschadigde
Schip.
Damp, z. de damp.
Damp, bv. vochtig, benevold.
to Damp, b. w. dempen; to damp
his joy, zijne vreugde verbit-
teren.
Dampness, z. vochtigheid.
to Dance', o. w. danfen.
A
Dance, z. de dans.
Danger, z. het gevaar.
Dangerous, bv. gevaarlijk.
Dangerously, bw.gevaarlijk; dan-
gerously wounded, doodelijk,
gevaarlijk gewond.
to Dáre, o. w. durven, wagen ;
A dare say, ik geloof, ik zou
DA
durven zeggen, ja, dat geloof
ik, mij dunkt.
Dark, bv. donker, duister, 2)
donker van kleur; dark-red,
donkerrood.
to Darken, b. w. verduisteren,
verdonkeren, donker worden.
Darling, bv. bemind, geliefd s
the darling son het geliefde
zoontje.
>
Darc, z. de wespſpies.
to Dart, b. w. worpen, eigenlijk
en f. the moon darted her beams,
de maan schoot hare ftralen;
fchieten van werpfchichten; s)
o. w. when the lightung darts 7
from the clouds, wanneer de
blikſem ait de wolken ſchiet.
to Dash, b. w. flaan, ſloten, 2)
verbrijzelen; to dass to pieces
3) werpen.
Dash, z. een flag, foot.
Daughter, z. de dochter.
to Dawn, o. w. kiemen, daubre.
ken (van den dag).
Dawn, z. de dageraad; the dawn
of the day, de morgen- of och-
sendfchemering.
DAY,
872
DE
DE
Dây, z. de dag; to day, heden;
one day or a another, vroeg of
-
laat, eens, eenmaal.
Daybreak, z. het aanbreken van
den dog.
Daylight, z. het daglicht.
Daytime, z. de tijd van den dag ;
by daytime, bij dag.
to Decay, b. w. lokken; they de-
coyed the sailors in the words,
zij lokten de matrozen in de
bosfchen.
to Decrée, bw. en o. w. beflui-
ten, vast fellen.
to Dedicate, b. w. wijden, 106.
wijden, opdragen.
·
Dead, bv. dood; dead silence, Deéd, z. de daad, de handeling.
tò Deém, b. w. achten, denken,
doodfche filte.s
Deadly, bw. doodelijk; the deadly
sweat, her doodzweet.
Déal, z. een deel; with a good
déal of trouble, met veel moei-
te; what a deal of trouble? wat
cene moeite.
**
to Déal, b. w. deelon, verdes
„len; a) 0. x. handelen; God,
thou dealst justly with me, God,
gij handelt regsvaardig met mij
Déaling, z. de handelwijze, de
behandeling.
Déar, bv. geliefd, waard;
0
dear! o hemel! 2) duur, hoog
in prijs.
Déarly, bw. my dearly beloved
father, mijn dierbaar beminde
vader.
Death, z. de dood.
so Debar, b. w. uitsluiten; to be
debarred from the communica-
tion with mankind, van allen
menfchelijken omgang uitge
foten zijn.
Debt, z. de fchuld, de fchulden.
Deceased, bv. gestorven.
meeren.
Deep, bv. diep.
Deer, z. de reebok.
to Defeat, b. w. verwinnen, ver-
nielen, verflaan; to defeat the
enemy.
Defect, z. het gebrek, de gebrek-
kige zamenftelling.
Defence, z. de verdediging, de
zekerheid, veiligheid.
to Defend, b. w. yerdigen, bs-
Schermen.
to Defèr, b. w. eno. w. verſchui-
:
ven, uitfellen.
Deficient, bv. gebrekkelijk, ge®
brek hebbende.
to Defidy, b. w. de kosten dra.
gen, vrijhouden, voor (ie.
mand) betalen, (iets) bekos.
tigen.
Degrée, z. een trap; by degrees,
trapsgewijze, langzamerhand,
2) graad; to such a degree,
tot zulk een hoogen graad.
to Dejèct, b. w. moedeloos ma-
ken, neerslagtig maken.
Dceéit, z. het bedrog, de be Dejèction, z. de moedeloosheid.
driegerij.
to Deceive, b. v. bedriegen, mis-
leiden.
Deceiver, Z. een bedrieger.
to Decide, b. w. beflisfen.
De ision, z. beflisfing.
Dèck, z. het verdek van een ſchip
to Declare, b. w. verklarens
to Dèign, o. w. zich verwaardi.
gen, voor waardig houden;
deign thou, o lord! my life to
regard, neem, o heer! gena
dig mijn leven in awe be
Scherming.
to Deláy, b. w vertragen
fchuiven, uitstellen.
"
De.
DE
373
DE
Deldy, z. de vertraging, ver-
fchuiving, het uitstel; without
delay, onverwijld.
Delicacy, z de lekkerheid, lek-
kernij; the sweet poison of de.
licacies, het zoet vergif der
lekkernijen.
Delicious, bv. kostelijk, heer-
lijk; a delicious meal, een heer-
lijke maaltijd.
Delight, z. het vermaak,
vreugde, de last.
do
to Delight, b. w. verblijden, vera
keugen, verrukken; he delight
ed his eyes, hij verlustigde
ziine oogen, 2) o. w. vermaak
vinden; he delighted in doing
good, hij vindt zijn vermaak
in weldoen; to be delighted
with a thing, met iets ingeno-
men zijn, zich daarmede ver
maken.
Delightful, bv. aangenaam, ge
neegelijk, verblijdend.
Delirious, bv. krankzinnig.
to Deliver, b. w. bevrijden, red-
den, 2) overleveren, overgo-
ven, overhandigen ; as soon
as they were delivered into
good hands afgeleverd.
Deliverance, z. de bevrijding,
redding.
Deliverer, z. de rødder, bevrijder.
to Delúde, b. w
w.
w. misleiden ;
our poor delded brother,
Z8
011
arme verblinde, misleide
broeder.
Demand, z. de eisch, de vordering.
to Demand, b. w. vorderen, ei
fchen, verlangen.
to Demolish, b. w. vernielen,
afbreken.
Démon, z. een (boozi) geest.
|
to Demonstrate, b. w. bewijzen,
betuigen.
Demonstrátion, z. het bewijs; de-
monstrations of joy, vreugde-
bewijzen, vreugdebetuigingen.
Denial, z. self-denial, zelfver-
loochening.
Dèptist, z. de tandmeester.
to Deny, b. w. loochenen, tegen-
Spreken, 2) weigeren.
to Depart, o. w. afreizen, ver-
trekken, 2) verfcheiden; his
departed soul, zijne afgefchei-
dene ziel.
Departure, z. het vertrek.
to Depend, b. w. afhangen, 2)
(met upon, on) zich op iets
verlaten; depend on it, ga
daar vast op, maak daarop
ftaat.
ኑ
Dependant, bv. afhankelijk.
Deplorable, bv. betreurenswaar-
dig.
to Deplore, b w. betreuren, be-
weenen, beklagen.
Department, z. hot gedrag.
to Deposite, b. w. nederzetten,
nederleggen.
to Depreciate, b. w. minachten,
verachten ; one's merit, ien
mands verdienſte gering foliat
ten.
Depredation, z. vernieling, ver-
woesting.
to Deprive, b. w. (met of) be-
rooven.
Dèpth, z. de diepte.
to Depice, b. w. afvaardigen.
Deputy, z. een afgevaardigde,
gezant.
to Derive, b. w. afleiden, af
ſtammen, afkomen.
to Descend, b. w. en o. w. af-
gaan, dalen, nederkomen.
to Describe, b. w. beſchrijven.
Hh
D...
3747%
DI
DE
Description, z. beſchrijving.
Désert, z. de wildernis, woes.
tijn; a dreary dèsert, eene
treurige woestijn.
Desert, z. het verdiende loon;
now he gets his deserts,
krijgt hij loon nair werken.
to Desert, o. w. ontloopen, weg-
*loopen, verlaten.
nu
to Deserve, b. w. verdienen ;
he deserves no compassion, hij
{
verdient geen medelijden.
to Design, b w.voornemens zijn,
willen, 2) (met for) tot i.ts
bestemmen.
Design, z. het voorneman.
Desirable. bv. wenfchelijk, ge-
wenscht.
to Desire, b. w. verlangen, wen-
fchen, verzoeken; I desired
you to stay, ik wenschte dar
gij bleef, ik verzocht u te
blijven.
Deare, z. het verlangen near
iets; the desire of travelling,
het verlangen om te reizen.
Desirous, bv begeerig desirous
of learning, leergierig.
to Desist, o. w. van iets afzien,
aflaten.
Desolate, b
woest, onbewoond.
Despair, 2. wanhoop.
to Despair, o, W. (met of) wan-
hopen.
to Despise, b. w. verachten,
verſmaden.
to Despond, o. w. wanhopen, den
moed laten zinken.
Desponderey, z. kleinmoedig-
heid, hopeloosheid.
to Destinate, b. w. beftemmen.
Des ination, z. de beftemming.
to Destine, b. w. ſchikken
fremmen, wijden.
Destiny, z. het noodlot.
be.
Destitute, bv. met of, beroofd
zijn, verftoken.
to Destroy, b. w. vernielen, 2)
dooden, ombrengen.
Destriction, 2. verwoesting, ver■
nietiging, ondergang..`
Destructive, bv. verwoestend
vernielend.
to Detáin, b. w. terughouden,
ophouden; let not me detain you
from, laat mij u niet verhin
deren enz.
to Diver, b. w. affchrikken. \
to Dtèrmiae, bw. befluiten, be
palen.
to Detest, b. w. verfoeijen.
Detèstable, bv. verfoeijelijk, af-
fchuwelijk.
to Deviate, o. w. van den regten
weg afwijken.
Deviation, z. afwijking, verwij-
dering.
to Devoce, b. w. wijden, toe-
wijden.
Devotion, z. aandacht, eerbied,
vroombeid.
to Devour, b. w. verfinden.
Devoutly, bw. aandachtig, vroom.
Dew, z. de daauw.
Dexterity, z. de belendigheid,
bekwaamheid.
Dexterous, bv. behendig bekwaam.
Dialogue, z, het gefprek, de za-
men praak, tweefpraak.
Diamond, z. de diamant.
Dick, verkorting van den naam
Richard.
Did, o. t. van to Do.
to Die, c. w. ferven; to die of
age, vis orderdom fterven.
Dier, z. sen verwer.
o Differ, o. w. verſchillen, ver-
fcheiden zijn, 2) van cene an•
dere meaning zijn.
Dif.
DI
375
DI
Difference, z. het onderfcheid,
verschil.
Different, bv. verf.hillend, on-
derfcheiden, (met from).
Dificult, bv. moeijelijk, bezwaar.
lijk.
Difficulty, z. moeijelijkheid, 2)
verlegenheid.
Diffidence, Zo wantrouwen.
to Diffuse, b. w. verspreiden,
verbreiden.
to Dig, b. w. es o. w. graven;
to dig up, opgraven; to dig
out, uitgraven; to dig the
ground, den grond graven.
Digging, z. het graven.
Dignity, z. waardigheid; he be
haved with the greatest dignity,
hij gedroeg zich met de grOOS-
fte waardigheid, 2) mv. eer
ambten, waardigheden.
•
to Diláte, o. w. zich uitzetten;
f. how his heart dilated! hoe
verblijd was zijn hart!
Diligence, z. ijver, naarftig-
heid, vlijt.
Dim, bv. duister; by the dim
light, bij het zwakke licht.
to Diminish, b. w. verminderen,
minder maken; 2) o. w. yer-
minderen, minder worden.
Diminution, z. de vermindering.
Dimly, bw. duister.
one's course, Auren, 2) lei-
den, fchikken; the all directing
father of mankind, de albeheer-
fchende vader der menfchen, 3)'
brieven adresferen; letters di-
rected for Barbados, naar Bar-
bados beftemde brieven.
Direction, z. de rigting, 2) in•
rigting, beſtuur, voorſchrift;
according to his direction, vol-
gens zijn voorſchrift.
Directly, bw. regiftreeks, 2) ter-
fond, onmiddellijk,
i
wijld; you may directly begin,
gij kunt terftond beginnen.
Director, z. de leider, beßuur.
der, regeerder.
to Disable, b. w. verzwakken
krachteloos, onbekwaam maken.
Disagreable, bv. onaangensam.
to Disappear, o. w. verdwijnen,
onzichtbaar worden.
to Disappoint, b. w. iemands hoop
verijdelen, te leur ftellen; to
be disappointed in one's explc-
tation, te leur gefteld worden.
Disappointment, z. releurstelling,
de verijdelde hoop.
to Disapprove, b. w. laken, af.
keuren.
to Discèrn, b. w. onderfcheiden,
2) inzien; to discern the rea.
son, de reden inzien.
to Dine, o. w. te middag fpij-to
zen, eten; if he would dine
with him, of hij bij hem wil-
de ctes.
Dinner, z. het middagmaal; to
eat one's dinner, zijn middag-
maal houden.
Dint, z. kracht, vermogen; by
dinc of patience, door geduld.
to Dip, b. w. doopen, foppen.
Dipt, dw. en o. t. van to Dip.
to Direct, b. w. rigten ; to direct
Discharge, b. w. losfen, ont-
laden, 2) affchieten; to dis-
charge a pistol, een pistool af-
Schieten.
Discontent, z. de ontevredenheid,
onvergenoegdheid.
Discovery, z. de ontdekking.
to Discover, b. w. ontdekken.
to Disc urage, b. w. ſpreken, com
mondgesprek houden.
Discourse, a. het gesprek.
Hh 2
to
E
376
DI
DI
to Discourse, b. w. Spreken, eom | Disposal, z. de fchikking, orde.
mondgesprek houden.
Discreet, bv. voorzigtig, beſchei-
den.
Disease, z. ziekte, kwaal, onge▪
mak..
to Disencumber, b. w. van iets
bevrijden, ontlasten, uit den
weg raimen.
to Disengage, b. w. bevrijden,
losmaken, ontbinden.
Dish, z. eene fchotel, eene kop;
a dish of tea, een kopje thee,
2) een geregt (bij den maal-
tijd).
Disharmony, Z. een wangeluid,
wanklank; a dismal disharmony,
een jammerlijk geluid, een
jammerlijk misbaar.
Dismal, by. fchrikkelijk,. treu-
rig, droevig.
Dismay, z. moedeloosheid.
Dismayed, dw, moedeloos, klein-
mecdig.
Disorder, z. wanorde, verwar-
ring.
Dis air, zie Despair.
Dispatch, z. Spoed, Snelheid, ook
Despatch.
to Dispàrch, b. w. verzenden, af-
zenden, 2) naar de andere we-
reld zenden, afmaken; to dis-
patch the savage, den wilde van
kant maken, hem de rest geven
to Dispèl, b. w. verdrijven, ver-
Strooijen; to dispel a doubt,
eene twijfeling wegruimen.
to Dispèrse, b. w. verftrooijen,
2) o. w. zich verliezen; they
dispersed in the woods, zij ver›
Spreidden zich in het bosch ;
the heat disperses, de hitte
neemt af.
to Display, b. w. uit een zetten,
verspreiden, ten toon spreiden
to Dispose, b. w. beſchikken ;
dispose of me, when you think
fit, befchik over mij zoo als
het u belieft; to dispose of
one's property, over zijn sim
gendom befchikken.
Disposed, bv. en dw. geſchikt ;
well disposed, in eenen ge-
fchikten luim.
Disposition, z. inrigting, fchik-
king; the dispositions of divine
providence, de fchikkingen der
goddelijke voorzienigheid.
Dispute, z. de ftrijd, twist, re-
detwist, oneenigheid.
to Dispute, b. w. betwisten; no-
body will dispute me the right,
niemand zal mij het regt be.
twisten.
Dissatisfaction, z. onvergenoegd.
heid, ontevredenheid.
Dissolution, z. onsbinding, op-
los fing.
Distance, z. afstand; at a distan
ce, van verre.
Distant, bv. verwijderd.
Distèmper, z. ligchaamskwaal,
ziekte.
Distinct, bv. verfcheiden, on-
derfcheiden.
Distinction, z, onderſcheidenheid,
verſchil.
Distinctly, bw. onderfcheidenlijk,
klaar, duidelijk.
to Distinguish, b. w. onderfchei-
den.
Distinguished, bv. onderfcheiden,
dw.
Distracted, bv. onzinnig, dol.
Distrèss, z. ongeluk, ellende,
nood; a ship is in distress, con
Schip is in nood; the signal
of distress, hot teeken van
nood.
Dis-
DO
377
DO
Distressed, dw. a distressed ship,
een fchip in nood, een veron-
gelukt schip.
Distressful, bv. ongelukkig, el-
lendig.
to Disturb, b. w. verontrusten,
ftoren, 2) bedroeren, droef-
heid, verdriet aandoen.
Ditch, z. cane gracht, foot.
to Dive, o. w. duiken, onder-
duiken.
Divers, bv. eenige, verfcheidene
(verouderd woord).
Diverse, bv. onderfcheiden, ver
fcheiden.
ik weet niet; ook in plaats
van vorige werkwoorden te her-
halen, als: did not you say
so? yes I did, 5) to do without
a thing, iets misfon, ontberen;
he did not know what to do with
himself, hij wist niet wat hij
zou beginnen.
to Dóat, Dóte, b. w. (met upon
of on), op iets verlekkerd
zijn, met iets ingenomen zijn,
iets buitensporiglijk bemin-
new; they doated on him to ex-
cess, zij hadden hem alte lief.
Dog, z. de hond.
Diversion, z. verftrooijing, uite | Dóing, dw. van to Do, s) als
Spanning, vervrolijking.
to Divèrt, b. w. verfrooijen ; to
divert one's grief, zijn leed
verftrooijen, verbannen, zich
den tijd korten; to divert one's
self with a thing, zich met iets
vermaken.
to Divide, b. w. deolen.
Divine, bv. goddelijk, Divine
י
z. mv. doden; all their doings
al wat zij verrigten, was zij
daen.
Doll, z. eene pop.
Dollar, z. een daalder.
Domèstick, Domèstical, bv. huis.
felijk, 2) tam; domestick ani.
mals, tamme dieren.
Pro-Dominion, z. het gebied, de heer-
Ichappij.
vidence, de Goddelijke Voorzie.
nigheid.
Division, z. de deeling, vordec.
ling.
Dizzy, bv. duizelig.
to Dó, b. w. doen, maken; he
did not know what to do with
it, hij wist niet wat hij daar-
mede zou doen, 2) o. wọ và-
ren, zich bevinden; how du
you do? hoe vaart gij, hoe is
het met uwe gezondheid? 3)
deugen, die■ftig zijn; it would
have done, het had kunnen die-
nen, gefchieden, 4) men zal
overigens nog onderfcheidene
Spreckwijzen met het werkw.
Do vinden; do not let it be
too mournful, laat het niet al
so akelig worden; I don't know,
Done, dw. van to do, to have
done with a thing, met iets ge.
reed zijn; done again? reeds
weder voorbij? Done! als tas-
fchenw. Fiat!
Don't, zamenirekking van Do not.
Doór, z. de deur; to run out of
doors, de deur uitloopen, uis
her huis loopen; without doors,
buitens huis.
Dormant, bv. fluimerend, rustend,
fil.
Double, bv. en bw. dubbel, twee-
voudig; double teeth, kinne
bakstanden, kiezen.
to Double, b. w. verdubbelen.
to Doubt, o. w. twijfelen (aan
iets).
I Doubt, z. de twijfel, de twijfe
Hh3
ling i
$78
DR
DR
ling; I make no doubt of it, I Dréam, z. een droom.
ik twijfel er niet aan; no
to Dream, o. w. droomen.
doubt, zonder twijfel, 2) be- Dréamer, z. de droomer.
fuiteloosheid, bedenkelijkheid, Dreáry, bv. fchrikkelijk, akelig,
3) vrees, bezorgdheid, zorg. a dreary desert, eene akelige
Doubtful, bv. twijfelachtig, on-
wildernis.
zeker; in doubtful cases
in
twijfelachtige gevallen; a
doubtful voice, cane onzekere,
wankelende ftem.
•
Dough, z. (uitgespr. als doo),
het deeg.
Dówn', vz. en bw. neder, af; to
fall down, nedervallen, vallen;
to go down the hill, den berg
afgaan; he wrote it down, hij
fchreef het op.
Downwards, bw. nederwaarts.
Dozen, z. cen dozijn.
4
to Drag, b. w. trekken, flepen.
Drank, o. t van to Drink.
Draught, (uitgeſpr. als Draaft),
2. een flok, teug, dronk; he
drank a cold draught, hij dronk
Benes kouden teug, 2) can
drank.
to Draw, b. w. trekken; to draw
breath, adem halen, 2) wit-
trekken; to draw a tooth, 86-
pen tand uittrekken, 3) ſchrif-
telijke opstellen; the condition
he drew up, de voorwaarden
welke hij opschreef, 3) o. w.
maderen; night drew on, het
werd nacht; it draws near its
end, het loopt ten einde.
Drawbridge, z een ophaalbrug.
Drawing, z. cene teckening.
to Dead, b. w. en o. w. jets
vriezen duchten, van iets
fchrikken.
Dreadful, bv. fchrikkelijk, ijs-
felijk.
Dreadfully bw. Johrikkelijk.
wressfelijk.
to Dress, b. w. kleeden, tooijen,
fieren, 2) toobereiden; well
dressed meat wel toebereid
vleesch; to dress skins, huider
toebereiden.
Drew, o. t., van to Draw.
to Drink, bw. en o.w.drinken.
Drink, z. de drank, 2) het drix-
ken.
| Drinkable, bv. drinkbaar.
Drinking, z. het drinken.
to Drive, b. w.drijven, voort-
drijven, jogen.
|
Driven, dw. yan to Drive, 2) as
a driven snow, als versch ge-
vallen Sneeuw.
Drop, z. de droppel; a drop of
blood, een droppel bloeds.
to Drop, o. w. droppelen, 2) val-
len, nedervallen; the knife
dropt from his hand, het mes
viel mit zijne hand; 3) b. w.
to drop a project, een voorns-
men laten varen.
Dropping sweat, z. een droppe-
lend zweeten.
Drove, o. t. van to Drive.
to Drown, o. w. ex b. W. ver-
drinken, áronken.
Druin, z. de trom, de tremmel;
the druin was beaten, de trom
werd geflagen.
Drunk, dw. van to Drink.
Dry, bv. droog, dry land, hes
drooge, het drooge land, 2)
dorftig, 3) dor, zonder fap;
the cow became dry, de koe
verloor hare melk.
co Dry, o, w. droog worden,
uit.
DU
379
DY
[uitdroogen, droogen, 2) b. w. | Dùnghill, z. een misthoop.
droogen, droog maken; to dry
up, uitdroogen, opdroogen.
Due, bv. behoorlijk, billijk;
in due time, ter goeder uur;
in de form, in behoorlijken
Dúring, vz. (dw. van to Dare),
gedurende, terwijl.
vorm.
Dug, dw. en o. t. van to Dig.
Dúly, bw. behoorlijk, billijk.
Dimb, bv. ftom.
Dùn, bv. van den kastanjeboom.
Dunce, z. een domoor.
to Dùng, b, w, miston, het land
MESICH.
|
Darst, o. t. van to Dare.
Dùsk, z. de avondſchemering.
Dust, z. het stof;- gold dust;»
goudstof:
Dútiful, bv. gehoorzaam, 2)sere
biedig.
Dúty, z. de pligt..
to Dwell, o. w. women.
Dwelling, z. de woning.
to Dye, zie to Dié.
Dyer, zie Diér.
E A
E A
Each, (voornaamw.), elk, ieder; | Earthly, bv. aardsch.
each other, elkander.
Earthquake, z. eene aardbevinge
Eager, bv. begeerig,verlangend, Ease, z. de rust, 2) welstand,
ijverig ; eager of learning, leer-
graag, 2) hevig, driftig, vu-
rig; an eager desire, een vu-
rig verlangen.
|
3) gemakkelijkheid; at his ease,
op zijn gemak, 4) ongedwon3 =
heid; they suckled at their ease,
zij zogen zoo veel hun, lusite.
Eagerly, bw.begeerig,vuriglijk. | to Ease,
to Ease, b w. verligten, 2) be-
Ear, z. het oor, 2) cen aar,
koornaar.
Early, bv. en bw. vroeg, vroeg-
sijdig; vergel. trap, earlier,
overtroff. trap, earliest.
Earnest, bv. ernfig; the earnest
resolution, het vaste, ernftige,
besluit.
Earnest, z. de ernst.
Earnestly, bw. met ernst, in
ernst.
vredigen, gerust fellen; to
ease one's self, zich geruss ftal-
len, 3) uitrusten, laten uit-
rusten; to ease one's limbs
zijn ligchaam laten ruston.
Easily, bw. ligt, gemakkelijk,
zonder moeite.
East, z. het oosten; east indies,
Oostindien.
Easterly, bv. oostelijk; easterly
winds, oostelijke windon,
Earnestness, z.ernftigheid, ijver, Eastern, bv. oostelijk; the eas
drift.
Earth, z. de aarde; potters eartli,
pottebakkers aarde, 2) de
cardbol.
Ea then, bv. van aarde; eartheu
ware, pots, aardewerk.
tern horizon, de oostelijke gen
zigteinder.
Easy, bv. gemakkelijk, 2) ge-
rust, veilig; to make one's
mind easy, zich gerast ftellen,
3) gemakkelijk ingerigt.
Hh 4
to
380
E M
EL
to Eat, 0. w. en b. w. eten.
Eatable, bv. eetbaar.
Eatable, z. eatables mv. eetwa
ren, levensmiddelen.
Eater, z. eter; a man éater, een
menfchencter.
Eating, z. het eten.
Ebb, z. de ebbc.
-
to Ebb, o. w. obben; when it
ebbs, wanneer de ebbe begint.
Echo, z. de echo, weerklank.
to Echo, .o. w. terugkaaszen.
to Educate, b. w. opvoeden.
Education, z opvoeding.
E'en in plaats van Even, zelfs,
liever; so 1'11 e'en pass over
this passage, dan wil ik dit
liever overſlaan.
Effèct, z. het uitwerkfel, het
gevolg, de werking-
to Effect, b. w. ten uitvoer bran.
gon, in working brengen.
Effèmiuate, bv. verwijfd, wecke-
lijk, laf.
.
to Effèminate, b. w. weekelijk
maken, vertroetelen.
Efficacious, bv. werkdadig,krachi-
dadig.
Effort, z. poging; to use all ef
forts, alle pogingen aanwen-
den, alles in het werk ftellen.
Egg, z. een ei.
Eight, bv. acht (in getal); at
eight o'clock, ten acht uren.
Eighteen, bv. achttien.
Eighteenth, bv. de achttiende.
Eighth, bv. de achtfie.
Eighty, bv. sachtig.
Elbow, z. de elleboog.
Eldest, overtreff. trap van Old,
de oudste.
Elemèntal, bv. uit de eerfte
grondbeginsels beftaande ; ele-
3
mental knowledge, eerfte bs-
ginfels, eerfte kundigheden.
Elevated, bv. en dw. an elevated
ground, een verheyen grond,
eene hoogte, een heuvel.
Elèven, bvolf.
Elèventh, bv. de elfde.
Eligible, bv. verkieslijk, yor
kiesbaar.
Ell, z. de el.
Else, (voornaamw.), anders; noë
body else, niemand anders.
Else, bw. anders.
Elsewhere, bw. ergens anders.
Em, zimentrekking van Them.
to Embark, b. w. infchepen, aañ
boord brengen; ) c. w. zich
infchepen, aan boord gaan.
Embassador, z. de gezant, afge,
zant.
to Embellish, o. w. en b. w
fraaijer worden, 2) fraai
jer maken, verfraaijen.
Embellishment, z. verfraaijing.
Embers, z. v. gloeijende asch.
to Embitter, b. w. verbitteren.}
to Embrace, b. w. o.marmen2,
omvatten, omhelzen, 2) aan=.
петем; to embrace a belief,
een geloof aannemen.
Embrace, z. de omhelzing.
Embrásure, z. hos fchiergat in
eene mu8 18.
Eilet hole, oilet hole, Z Aet Eminence, z. een heuvel, eene
rijggat.
Eicher, (voornaamw.), een van
beide, ieder, elk.
Eicher, (voegw.) of, het zij.
to Elapse, o. w. verloopen.
Elastick, bv. veerkrachtig.
boogie.
Emotion, z. hevige aandoening,
gemoedsbeweging.
Empire, z. het rijk, de ſtaat.
to Employ, b. w.gebruiken, aan.
wonden; 2) to be employed
ba
EN
38F
EN
bezig zijn; the ships employed
in the codfishery, de fchepen
die tot de kabeljaauwvangst |
gebruikt worden.
Employment, z. de bezigheid, de
tijdkorting, 2) het ambt.
Empty, bv. ledig.
Emulation, z. naijver, serzucht.
to Enáble, b. w. in ftaat fellers
bekwaam maken.
to Enchant, b. w. betooveren;
the enchanted potion, de 100-
verdrank.
to Enclose, b. w. influiten, in-
perken.
Enclosure, z. do omheining.
to Encompass, b. w. influiten,
beperken, bepalen.
to Encounter, b. w. te gemoet
gaan, ontmoeten, 2) canyallen
to Encourage, bi w aanmoedi-
gen.
Encouragement, z. de aanmoedi-
ging.
to Encréase, B. w. en o. W. ver-
meerderen, aanwassen;
n; the
water encreased, het water
waste.
Encréase, z. de vermeerdering,
wasdom.
End, z. het einde; to put an end
to a thing, een einde aan iess
maken, 2) het doel, oogmerk,
voornemen, 3) beftemming; to
answer this end, om aan dit
#inds te beantwoorden; 4) on
end, overeind, your hair will
stand on end, we haren zul-
len te berge rijzen.
to End, b. w. eindigen, ten ein-
de brengen, 2) o. w. ten ein-
de loopen 3) ophouden met
Spreken; here the father ended,
hier zwoeg de vader.
>
to Endéar, b. w. bemind maken.
Endearing, dw. endearing carès-
ses, teedere liefkozingen.
Endeavour, z. de poging, het
freven; to do one's endeavour,
pogen.
to Endeavour, b. w. pogen, trach•
ten, 2) beproeven.
Endless, bv. eindeloos, oneindig
to Endów, b. w. begiftigen, be-
gaven, beſchenken; endowed
with reason,
met reden be-
gaafd.
to Endure, b. w. verduren, dal-
den.
Enervated, dw. ontzenuwd, ver-
zwakt.
Enemy, z. een vijand.
to Enféeble, b. w. verzwakken j
krachteloos maken.
to Engage, b. w. verbinden, ver☛
pligten, 2) aanſporen.
Engagement, a: gevecht.
English, bv. cngelsch; mv. the
english, de engelſchen.
►
to Engrave, b. w. graveren.
to Enhance, b. w. verhoogen, den:
prijs, de waarde verhoogen.
to Enjoy, b. w. genieten.
Enjoyment, z genot, vermaak.
to Enlarge, b. w. vergrootený.
uitbreiden.
to Enlist, b. w. werven; he got
himself enlisted, hij nam dienst
to Enlighten, b. w. verlichten.
Enough, bw. genoeg; there is
room enough, dear is plaats
genoeg..
to Enquire, b. w. naar vṛagen
vernemen; to enquire after one,
naar iemand vernemen.
to Enrage, b. w. toornig maken,
vertoornen, vergrammen, boos
maken.
to Ensúe, o. w. volgen; a silent-
Hb5
со
382
E V
E Q
ce ensued, hier volgde een ftil- | Equitable, bv. billijk; equitable
zwijgen.
to Entàugle, b. w. verwarren ;
the hairs were entangled, de ha-
ren waren verward.
to Enter, b. w. binnen komen,
intreden; to enter the atlantick
in de atlanti che zee
varen; 2) o. w. (mes into),
ocean,
they entered into open sea, zij
kwamen in volle zee.
Entèrred, intèrred en imèred, dw.
begraven.
to Entertain, b. w. onderhouden,
mes ſpreken bezig houden, met
Spijzen onthalen.
Entertainment, z. onderhouding,
zie to Entertain.
Entire, bv. geheel, gansch.
Ettirely, bw. geheellijk.
to Entitle, bv, geregtigen.
Eutrails, z. mv. hee ingewand.
Entrance, z. de intrede, 2) de
ingang.
to Entréat, b. w.verzoeken,fme-
ken.
Emtréaty, z. ſmeeking.
laws, regtyaardige wetten.
to Erèce, b. w. oprigten.
Erèct, bw regt op; to stand erect,
overeind flaan.
Error, z. de dwaling; to be in
an error, dwalen.
Eruption, z. de uitbarfling.
to Escape, b. w. ontgaan, ont-
duiken; a danger, een ga-
vaar ontkomen; to escape death,
den dood ontgaan; o. w. ont-
Snappen, vlagsen, de vlugt
nemen.
Escape, z. de vlugt; to make
one's escape, het hazenpad-kie-
zen, do vlagt nemen.
Espécially, bw. voornamelijk, in◄
zonderheid.
to Espy, b. w. ontdekken,
waar worden, 2) beſpieden.
Essay, z. de proeve.
Essential, bv. wezenlijk.
gem
to Establish, b. w. vestigen, iw,
ftellen, bepalen.
Establishment, z. de inrigting,
ſchikking.
to Eatrust, b. w. toevertrouwen,Esteém, z. de achting.
(ook intrust).
to Esteem, b. w. hoogachten.
Epidèmic, bv. heerfchend, (hoor Estimable, bv. achtenswaardigs
fchende ziekte);
Equal, bv. gelijk, gelijkvormig;
of equal length, van gelijke
lengte, 2) billijk.
to Estimate, b. w. Schatten,
waarderen.
Estimate, z. fchatting, waarde-
ring, takfering.
Equally, bw. even zoo, gelijke Eternal, bv. seuwig.
lijk, insgelijks.
Equanimity, z. gelijkheid van
gemoedsgefteldheid.
Equinox, z. de nachtevening.
to Equip, b. w. uitrusten, met
het noodige voorzien.
Equipage, z. de uitrusting, klee-
ding; the odd equipage, de won-
derlijke opfchik.
Eternally, bw. eenwig, in cou“
wigheid.
Even, bv. effen, glad, gelijk ş
on even ground, op effen grond.
to Even, b. w. effen maken, ge•
lijk maken.
Even, é'en, bw. zelfs ; even then,
even at that time, juist in dien
tijd.
Evening, z. de avond.
E-
EX
383
EX
Event, z. de uitkomst, de uitſlag. | Exclusive, bv. uitgenomen, bui-
Ever, bw. ooit, 2) altijd; for
矍
​ever, ooor ecuwig; 3) ever so
short, hoë kort ook; ever so
little, hoe weinig ook.
Everlasting, bv. eeuwigdurend.
Every, (voornaamw.) elk, ieder;
every one, ieder een; 2) every
where, overal.
Evil, ill, br. en bw. flecht; it
must be done by evi! means, het
moet door booze middelen ge-
ſchiedeni dat is meer dan
regt uit.
Evil, z. het kwaad.
rea; exclusive of -,
zondering van -.
met uit.
Excursion, z. ftrooping, wande-
ling.
to Excuse, b. w. verontschuldigens
Excase, z. eene verontschuldi
ging.
to Execute, b. w. aitosfenen.
uitvoeren.
Execution, z. de uitvoering; to
put in execution, in werking
brengen, ten uitvoer brengen.
to Exèmpt, b w bevrijden, vrij-
Spreken, uitzonderen.
European, hv. europeaansch, 2) Exercise, z. oefening; bodily
z. een europeaan.
Exact, bv. naauwkeurig.
Exactly, bw. naauwkeuriglijk.
Exactness, Z. nauwkeurigheid.
Examination, z. het onderzoek.
to Examine, b. w. onderzoeken.
Example, z. een voorbeeld.
to Excéed, b. w. overfchreden.
Excéeding, dw, uitnemend ; cx-
ceeding high, zeer hoog.
Exceedingly, bw. engemeen.
Excellence, z. voortreffelijkheid,
Excellent, bv. voortreffelijk.
Excellently, bw. voortreffelijk.
to Excèpt, b w. uitzonderen.
Except, excepted, dw. uitgeno-
inen.
Exception, z. de uitzondering.
Excèss, z. de buitensporigheid;
to love one to such an excess,
iemand zoo onmatig beminnen,
2) onmatigheid.
exercises, ligchaamsoefeningen
to Exercise, b. w. oefenen.
to Exèrt, b. w. volbrengen, 2)
inspannen.
TH=
Exertion, z. uitoefening,
Spanning (van krachten).
Exhalation, z. de uitwafeming,
mv. de dampen, uitwafemingen.
to Exhale, o. w. uitwafemen
zirdampen.
to Exhaust, b. w. uitputten.
to Exhiòrt, b. w. aanmanen, pers
manen.
Exhortation, z. de vermaning.
to Exist, b. w.
b. w. beftaan, voor.
handen zijn.
Existence, z. het beftaan, hot
daar zijn.
to Expèct, b. w. verwachten.
Expectation, z. de verwachting,
2) het uitzigt, de hoop.
Expédient, bv. nuttig, heilzaım.
Excessive, bv. onmatig, buiten Expédient, z. een geſchik: middel.
Sporig, overdreven.
Expedition, z. de spoed, haast.
Excessively, bw.buitenſporiglijk | Expeditious, bv. Spoedig, fuel,
to Excite, b. w. verwekken, op-
wekken.
Exclamation, z. uitroeping.
to Exclúde, b. w. uitſluiten.
vlug.
Expeditiously, bw. fnel, wes
Snelheid.
Expence, expense, z. uitgave
kosa
384
EX
EX
kosten; I will pay your expen-
ces, ik zal u vrij houden; at
the expence of others, op an-
ders kosten; do not put your
self to any expence, maak gee-
ne onkosten, wees onbezorgd,
fpaar u de moeite.
Expérience, z. ondervinding;
by his own experience, door
zijne eigene ondervinding.
to Expérience, b. w. ondervin-
den, door ondervinding weten.
Experiment, z. de proef, de on-
dervinding.
Expiration, 2. het verloop, hes
einde van eenigen tijd.
to Expire, o. w. den geest ge-
ven, overlijden, sterven, 2)
sen einde loopen, verloopen
(van tijd), verftrijken.
to Express, b. w. uitdrukken
aan den dag leggen.
Exprèssion, z. de uitdrukking.
Expressive, bv. uitdrukkelijk,
beteekeningsvol.
Exquisite, bv. voortreffelijk, uit-
gelozen, heerlijk.
Extasy, z. verrukking.
to Extend, o. w. zich uittrek
ken, 2) b. w. verbreiden, uis-
breiden; a spider had extended
her web, eene fpin had haar
web uitgespand.
Extensive, by. uitgeftrekt; an
extensive circle, een wijde firkel.
to Extingnish, b. w. dempen,
blusfchen, stelpen.
Extraordinary, bv. buitengewoon,
ongemeen.
Extravagantly, bv. buitensporig.
To Explain, b. w. verklaren, op Extravagant, bv. overdreven.
helderen.
Explanation, 2. verklaring, op-
heldering.
10 Explore, b. w. uitvorſchen,
onderzoeken.
Explosion, z. uitbarsting.
zo Expose, b. w. bloot fellen;
to be exposed on an island, op
een eiland bloot gefteld, 2)
aan gevaar bloet fellen; to
expose to danger, to expose
one's life, zijn leven in de
waagschaal fiellen.
Extréme, bv. het laatfte, het ui-
terfte.
Extremity, z. het uiterfte, het
uiterfte einde.
to Extricate, b. w. to extricate
one's self, zich er uit draai.
jen, er uit redden.
to Exùlt, o. w. zich verblijden,
yrolijk zijn.
Eye, z. het oog; to cast one's eyes
down, de oogen nederſlaan.
· FA
Fable, z. eene fabel, een vers
dichtfel.
Fice, z. het gezigt, het aange
zigt.
to Face, b. w. tagen overſtaan;
to face a danger, een gevaar
FA
trotferen; to face the enemy,
den vijand het hoofd bieden.
to Facilitate, b. w. verligten.
Facility, z. de gemakkelijkheid.
Fact, z. de daad; in fact, war-
kelijk
Fi
FA
385
FA
Faculty, z. het vermogen van iets
te doen, de bekwaamheid, ziels-
kracht, voornamelijk in het
mv. faculties, zielsvermogens.
to Fáde, o. w. verwelken, ver-
gaan.
to Fil, o. w. misſlaan, feil
gaan; 2) b. w. in gebreke blij-
ven; I will not fáil, ik zal
niet in gebreke blijven.
Fáin, bv. gaarn.
to Faint, 0. w. onmagtig wor·
den, in onmagt vallen; he
fainted away, hij viel in on-
magt.
Flint, bv. krachteloos, zwak,
fiaauw.
Fáintness, z. onmagt, flaauwie.
Fáir, bv. fchoon, a) gunftig;
the wind is fair, de wind is
ganftig, 3) zacht, zachtmoc-
dig; by fair means, goedfchiks,
in der minne.
Faith, z. het godsdienftig geloof,
geloofsbelijdenis, 2) de trouw,
getrouwheid.
>
Faithful, bv. trouw, getrouw ;
faithful to his resolution, over-
eenkomstig mes zijn besluis;
a faithfol maid-servant eene
trouwe dienssmoid; the faith-
ful dog, de trouwe hond,
Faithfully, bw. getrouwelijk,
naauwkeurig, naauwgezet.
to Fall, o. w. vallon, nederval-
Jon; he fell from the tree, hij
viel van den boom, 2)invloci-
jen, invallen (van rivieren);
where the Elb falls into the
sea, waar zich de Elbe in de
zee aitffort, 3) in eenigen
soeftand geraken; beware of
falling sick, draag zorg niet
ziek te worden; to fall into
grom misery, tot grosse allen-
|
de vervallen; to fall into a
passion, in drift geraken; to
fall into a swooɑ, in onmagt
vallen; to fall asleep, in flasp
valles; to fall in with one, is-
mand ontmoeten, aantreffen,
4) op iets aanvallen, het mee
ijver aanvangen; he fell a work-
ing, hij zette zich aan bet
werk; the dog fell a barking
de hond bogow hevig te blaf-
fen, 5) vervallen aan iemand,
zijn deel wordex; it falls oo
the share of the lord of the
country, het kemt den lands-
haer toe.
Fall, z. de val; x) at nightfall,
tegen het vallen van den machs.
False, bv. valsch.
Familiar, bv. huisſelijk, 2) ver-
srouwd vertrouwelijk, ge-
*
meenzaam.
Familiarity, z. gemeenzaamheid;
an air of familiàrity, sem VEF-
troswelijk voorkomen.
Family, z. huisgezin; the father
and mother of the family, de
vader en moeder van het huis-
gezin.
Fàmished, bv. eigenl. dw. yan te
Famish, uitgehongerd.
Fancy, E. de verbeelding, ver.
beeldingskracht, 2) de inval;
he took a fancy, hij kwam op
de gedachte.
to Fancy, o. w. zich inbeeldon ;
b. w. to fancy one's self in a-
nother one's place, zich vers
beelden in iemands plaats te
zijn.
Fang, z. wortel; teeth with long
fangs, tanden met lange wor
tels.
Fantástick, bv. ingebeeld, gril-
lig, aonderling,
ti
Fir,
386
FE
FA
Ear, bw. en bv. ver, afgelegen,
·
wijd; the day was far advą.
ced, de dag was reeds groo-
tendeels verloopen.
to Fáre, o. w. yaren, flagen;
this time be fared better, deze
reis gelukte het hom beter.
Farewèl, fare well, gebiedende
-wijs van to fare well, zjarwe).
Farewèl, z. het affcheid,
het
vaarwel; he took his last fare-
wel, hij nam zijn laatfte af
fcheid.
Farmer, z. hooyenaar, pachter,
landman.
Farther, vorgel. trap van Fa,
werder.
Farthest, overtreffende trap van
Far, verst; at farthest, op her
Viosgfs.
to Fast, b. w. vasten, zich van
fpijzen onthouden.
Fast, z. het vasten, nuchter
blijven; breakfast, het ontbijt
Fast, bv. en bw. vast; to be
fast asleep, vest in feap zijn.
Fast, bw. Schielijk; as fast a
they could, zoo fchielijk als
zij konden,
to Fasten, b. w. vast maken, be-
vestigen; I will fasten (fix)
the map against the tree, ik
zal de landkaart can den boom
hangen, 2) vastfluiten, digt
fluisen, 3) vestigen; to fasten
one's eyes upon a thing, zijne
Dogen op iets vestigen.
Fasting, . het vasten; how do
you like fasting? hos vinde gij
hoe beyali w her
het vasten?
wasten ?
2.
Fat, bv. vet, z. het vet,
Fatal, bv. noodlottig, ongelak
kig, gevaarlijk.
F.te, z. het noodlote
-
|
|
Få her, z. de vader; the father
of the family, de vader van hẹt
huisgezin.
Facher'y, bv. vaderlijk.
Fathom, z. de vadem, maat yan
zes voeten.
Fague, z. de vermoeijenis, ver-
moeidheid, 2) zware arbeid.
to Failgue, b. w. vermoeijen ;
they were greatly fatigued, zij
WITCH ZECr vermoeid.
Fault, z. do fchuld, de fout, da
* lag; it was not his fault,
het was zijng ſchild niet, 2)
het gebrek; for fault of fire,
bij gebrek aan vunz.
Faulty, bv. gebrekkig.
to Favour, b.. w. gunftig zijn,
begunḥigen; if fortune favours
us ever so little, indien de for-
tuin ons flechts eenigermata
begunstigt; 2) to be favoured
with a thing, met iets verblijd
worden, 3) iemand door iots
vermaak aandoen, hem
plezier doen.
Favour, z. de gunst, de welwil.
een
lendheid, 2) begunßiging; by
the favour of the night, onder
begunfiging van den nachi,
-3) eenen dienst, een vermaak,
do me the favour, dos mij has
vermaak.
2.
Favourable, bv. gunftig; favoue
rable wind, gunftige wind.
Favourite, bv. begunstigd,
gunsteling; my favourite dish,
mijn lieffe kost.
Fear, z. de vrees; I was in great
fear for him, ik was om zijnens
wil zeer bevreesd; for fear
of falling, uit vrees van se
vallen.
to Fear, b. w. iets vreezen, os
w. bang zijn.
Fts
FE
387
FI
Féarful, bv. vreesachtig.
Féarfully, bw. met vrees.
Feast, Z. een feestelijke maal-
tijd; it was a feast for him, het
was
kem.
een heerlijk maal voor
to Feast, o. w. fmullen, zich te
goed doen; to feast on his meat,
zich met zijn vleeschtrakteren.
Feather, z. de veder, de pluim.
Fed, dw. van to Feed.
Féchle, bv. zwak, moede.
to Feed, b. w. voederen, voeden.
Feed, z. het voeder, voedsel.
to Feel, o, en b. wi gevoelen,
roeien, tasten.
Féeling, z. het gevoel.
Féet, z. mv. vn Foot.
Felicity, z. geluk, zaligheid.
Fell, a. . van to Fall.
to Foll, b. w. vellen, nederhou-
wen; to fell trees, boomen af
houwen, afhakken, onthakken.
Fellow, z. een makker, gezel,
metgezel; play fellow, een fpeel
makker, kameraad, 2) met
verachting of minackting; *
poor fellow, een arme duivel;
a simple fellow, een onnoozele
blosd, met andere z. verbon
2
Ferocious, Sw. wreed, wisstg
roofgierig.
Ferocity, z. wreedheid, wosit.
heid,
Fèrtile, bv. vru htbaar.
Fertility, z. vruchtbaar keid.
Fèrvency, z. innigheid, warmte,
your.
Fèrvent', bv. insig, hartelijk
fervent thank, warme dankle-
tuiging; fervent wish, variga
wensch his fervent prayers,
zijn vurig gebed.
Fèrvently, bw, met your.
| Eèrvor, z. vurige aandoening des
gemoeds.
Fèstival, z. een feest, feestdag.
Fes:ivity, z. een fees:bedrijf.
to Fetch, b. w. halen; 2) te
fetched a deep sigh, hij loosde
een diepen zucht.
to Fetter, b. w.
to Fetter, b. w. ketenen, boc
Féver, z. de kooris.
!
boeijen
Féw, bv, weinig y a few, weš,
nige
Fibrous, bv. vezelig,vezelachtig.
Fiction, z. de verdichting, her
verdichtfel.
Fictitions, bv. verdicht, valsch.
Fie! (tusfchenw.) foei!
den, wordt dit woordvertaald | Field, z. het veld, de akker;
door met of mede, zie de vol-
genden:
Fellow citizen, z. medeburger.
Fellow co batant, z. medeftrij-
der.
Fellow - créature, z.medsſchepfel,
watuar genoot.
Felt, dw. van to Feel.
the field of battle, har flagvold.
Fierce, bv. wild, woest, wreck,
a) driftig, enftuimig.
Fiery, bv. vurig; fiery eyes,
vlammende oogen, 2) verhit.
Fife, z. cens fluit, dwarsfluit;
with a fife and tabor.
Fifteen, bv. vijftien.
Fémale, z. een vrouwelijk wezen; | Fifteenth, bv. vijftiende.
bv. a female lama, een wijfjes | Fifthly, bw. ton vijfde.
lama.
Fifty, bv. vijftig.
נ
to Ferment, o. w. gisten, ingis- | to Fight, b. w. vechsen, 2) b6-
ting.geraken.
Fermentation, z. gisting,
vachten, befirijden'; to fight the
enemy, den vijand befirijden.
Lis
Fight,
388
FI
FI
Fight, z. een gevechti
Figure, z. eone figuur, eene go.
daante; b. w. zich voorftellon;
figure yourselves, fel » voor,
denk eens.
aansteken; 2) f. fired, gloei.
jend, blakend; fired with indi-
guation, van verontwaardiging
blakende.
Firearms, 2. fchietgeweer.
Filament, z de draad, de vezel, Firebrand, z. een brandhout,
ader.
File, de vijl.
Filial, bv. kinderlijk; with filial
repentance, mot kinderlijk be-
rouw.
|
brandend hout.
Firehearth, z. de haard.
Firelock, z. de Snaphaan.
Firestone, z. de vaarfteen.
Firetong, z. de tang, vuurtang.
Filings, z. het vijlfel; filings of Firm, bv. vatt, fevig; a firm
írou, ijzervijlſèl.
to Fill, b. w. vullen, vervallen;
the wind filled the sail, de wind
blics het zeil op; 2) to fill up,
opvullen; - one's time, ziją
one's time, zijn
tijd befteden.
wall, een stevige muur; 2) 2
firm resolution, een vast, on-
wrikbaar befluit; firm confi,
dence, ftandvastig vertrouwen.
Firmament, z. het uitspansel, de
homel.
Fill, z. volta; to eat one's fill, Firmly, bv. vast, Randvastigs
zijn genorgen eten.
Fin, z. de vin (van eenes visch).
Finally, bw. ten laatfte, einde.
lijk.
+
to Find, b.. w. vindon, 2) zich
bsvindèn he found himself
weary,hij bevond zich vermosid;
3) to find, uitvinden; 4) he
could not find it in his heart,
hij konde het niet van zich
verkrijgen.
Fine, in fine, ten laatfte, ein-
delijk.
Fine, bv. fijn, 2) fchoon, voor-
treffelijk, 3) ook ironisch: oh
fine! dat is wat fraais!
Finely, bw. fchoon, fraai; you
have bit it finely, gij hout het
mooi geraden!
Finger, z. de vinger; the fore-
foger, de voorfte vinger.
tot
to F nish, b. w. eindigen, tot
fand brengen.
Fre, z. vuur; to be on fire, in
brand flees.
to Fire, b. w. fchieten, vuren
lijk; he was firmly resolved,
hij had vast befloten.
Firmness, z. vastigheid; in re-
gard to Armness, ten aanzien
der vastigheid, 2) ftandvas-
tigheid; armness of mind, kloe-.
ke geost, vast karakter.
First, bv. sorst; at the first sight,
op het eerfte gezigs, 2) bw.
eerftelijk, in het begin, ook:
at first, what they first (of at
first) supposed, wat zij oorst
dachten.
Firstly, at first, zie first, bwa.
Fish, z. een visch.
to Fish, b. w. sisfchen.
Fishbone, z. cené vischgraat.
Fisherman, z. cen visfckor.
Fishing, z. de vischvangst, vis--
fcherij.
Fishing net, z. een vischnet.
Fit, z. het toeval, de aanval es-
ner ziekte; hot and cold fits suc-
ceeded each other, heese ex
koude aanvallen volgden op el-
kander, 2) plotſelijke veran›
dia.
FL
389
FL
:
dering; in a fit of despair, in
een wanhopig oogenblik; in a
fit of joy, bij eene onverwach
te blijdschap, 3) onmagt; he
fell into a fit, hij viel in zwijm.
Fit, bv. (mes for), bekwaam
gefchiks, dienftig.
to Fit, b. w. Foebereiden, ge-
fchiks of dienflig maken, 2)0
w. passen, geſchikt zijn, be-
tamen; it would not fit the
circumstances het zoude ir
zulke omstandigheden niet bo-
tamen.
Five, bv. vijf.
to Fix, b. w. bevestigen; he
fixed a mark, hij maakte sen
téeken daaraan he fixed a flag
;
tó a stick
stick, hij maakte eene
vlag aan eenen fok vass, 2)
bepalen; to fix a day, eenen
dag bepalen; fixed upon, be
paald, beftemd.
K
Flag, 2. eene vlag to hoist a
flag, eene vlag hijſchen, op-
fråken.
Fláil, z. dorschylegel.
Flame, z. vlam, het vuur.
to Flame, b. w. ontvlammen,
branden.
to Flash, b. w. losbarften, your
geven.
-
Flat, bv. plat; a flat nose, bw.
plak, vlak; be laid himself flat
down, hij leide zich plat op
den grond.
to Flatter, b. w. vleijen ; to flat
ter one's self with hopes, zich
met hoop yleisen.
Flax, z. het vlas.
Flaxy, beter flaxen, bv. yaz
vlas, vlasaardig, vlasfig, vlas-
achtig.
:
Fèd, o. t. en dw. van to Flee.
to Fide,-o. w. vlugten..
Flesh, z. vleesch, 2) vleeschýpijs.
Flew, o. t. van to Fly.
Flexible, bv. baigzaam.
Flight, z. de vlugt.
Fling, b. w. flingeren,werpen; 2)
to fling down, op den grond
werpen, nederwerpen.
Flint, z. een vuurfteen.
to Float; o. w. drijven; the boat
was floating, de boot dreef.
Float, z. aflaat.
Flock, z. de kudde.
Flodd, z. de vloed, overſtroo-
ming.
Flúor, z. de vloer-
·
Flaming, dw. vlammerde, bran- Flour, z. het meel, bloem yaq
dende.
Flank, z. de flank, vleugel, zij-
de; two cannons commanded the
right flank, twee fukken be
fireken de regtor flåuk.
Flap, z. a fly flap, een vliegen-
klap.
to Flap, b. w. flaan; he flapped
his forehead, hij floeg zich tex
gen het voorhoofd.
Flash, Z. een plotfelijk licht: -
of powder, het ontbranden van
buskruid', of lightning, een
blikfemfiraal.
meeli
to Flourish, b. w. bloeijen.
to Fłów, o, w. vlieten, vlocijen.
Flower, z. cene bloem.
Flowerbed, z. een bloembed.
Flowergarden, z. een bloemtuix,
Flown, dw van to Fly.
Flung, dw, en o. t. van to Fling.
to Fly, o. w. vliegen, 2) vluge
ten, ontvlugton; 3) to let fly,
affchieten, losbranden; 4) co
fly xp, in de lucht vliegen.
Fly, z. cene vlieg.
Flydap, z. een vliegenklap.
I is
Fly
390
FO
FO
Flying, dw. van to Fly, a flying | Footstep, z. de voetſtap.
For, (voegw.), wons.
fish, een vliegende visch.
to Foam, o. w. ſchuimen ;
w. fcheimen; the
foaming bellows, de fchuimen-
de golven.
Fodder, z. het voeder.
Foe, z. de vijand.
to Fold, b. w. vouwen; folded his
bands, vouwde zijne handen,
leide zijne handen zamen.
Fólk, z. menſchen, volk, lie-
den; young folks, jonge lieden.
to Follow, b. w. volgen
Folly, z. dwaasheid.
Fond, bv. liefhebbend; 2) tỏ he
fond of a thing, iets bemin
nen, van iets veel houden.
to Fondle, b. w.liefkozen, troe-
tolen.
Fondling, 2. een lieveling.
Food, z. voedfel; a well tasted
and wholesome food, een ſma-
kelijk en gezond voedsel.
Foól, z. een zot, een gek.
Foolish, bv. gek, 2) grappig.
Foolishly, bw. dwaasfelijk; it
was foolishly spoken of the young
man, het was een dwaas ge-
zegde van den jongeling.
Foot, z. de voet (van menfchen
en dieren), 2) de voes, het
onderfie gedeelte; the foot of
a tree, de voet van eenen boom;
the foot of a hill, van eenen
berg; 3) een voet, twaalf
duimen lengte, in het laatſte
geval verandert het foms mist
in her mv. inzonderheid wan-
neer or con bv. opvolgt: twen-
ty footlong, twintig voet lang.
Footing, z. de voet, levonswij-
ze; on this footing, op dezon
voet, op deze wijze.
Footman, Z. een lijſknecht; a
running footman, sen looper.
For, vz, voor; he left him for
dend, hij liet hem voor dood
liggen; for fear, uit vrees ; be
would for his life have gone to
B, hij zou om al wat hem lief
Was noar B. hebben wil.
len gaan; for my part, voor
mij, ik voor mij, wat mij bes
treft ; a ship bound for Jamai-
ca, een schip naar Jamaika
beftomd; for ever, voor Cou
wig; I was in great fear for
him, ik was zeer om hem be-
kommerd, bevreesd; for a
while, voor eenigen tijd; but
for, ware het niet om; for
all that, met dat alles.
to Forbear, o. w. zich onthou-
don, achterlaten; to forbear
from quarrels, zich van kra.
keel onthexden,
to Forbid, b. w verbieden; God
forbid, God verhoede het, das
zij verre.
"
Force, z. de kracht, de ftorkte.
to Force h. w. dwingen, nood.
zaken; to be forced into the
conspiracy.
Forcebly, bw. hevig, ap some
gewelddadige wijze.
Fóre, bv. het voorfte; the fore
part, het voorſte gedeelte.
Forefinger, z. de voorste vinger.
Foregò, o. v. voorafgaan; fore.
going, dw. voorafgaande.
Forehead, z. hes voorhoofd.
Foreign, bv. vreemd, uitheemscha
in foreign regioas, in vreemde
landen, landſtreken.
Foremost, bv. het, de voorſte:
on the foremost peninsula, op
het voorfic fchiereiland, Cap
has
FO
391
FO
het fchiereiland aan dézi zijë | to Forsake, b. w. verlaten.
de van den Ganges).
Fúrenoon, z. de voormiddag:
Forepart, z. het voorfle gedeel
te, 2) het eerfte gedeelte (van
tijd fprekende):
Foresaw, 0. t: vas to Foresee.
ti
to Foresáy, b. w. voorzeggen,
voorspellen.
to Foresee, b. w.voorzicz, voor-
sirzien.
Foresight, z. vooruitzigt, VOOR-
zigtigheid, inzigt.
Forest, 2. hes woud, het bosch.
to Forfelt, b. w. verbeuren, verr
liezen; to forfeit one's life,
zijn leven verbeuren.
Forge, z. eene fmederij.
to Forget, b. w. vergeten,
Forgive, b. w. reigeven, ser-
giffenis fcheuken.
Forgiveness, z. vergiffenis.
Forgot, o. t van to Forget.-
Fork, z. de Tork.
82115
Fotky, by, tweetandig, gefole-
als eene vork; two forky
branches, woe takken als van
eene vork.
Forlorn, bv. verlaten, hulpeloos;
forlorn creature, arm yerlaten
Schepfel; a forlorn condition,
een hulpeloos teeftand.
Form, z. de vorm, gedapnte, a)
de wijze of manier; in due
form, op behoorlijke wijze.
to Form, b. w. Vormen; to form
an idea, sen denkbeeldvormen;
to form a conjecture, gisfen,
vermoeden, 2) uismaken, vor.
IN 87.
Former, bv. het, de vorige, eerst-
gemelde, 2) de eerfte.
Formerly, bw. eertijds, voorheen.
Formidable, bv. vreesfelijk
fchrikbarend.
Forsoók, o. t. van to Forsake.
Forth, bw. af, voorwaarts (van
tijd ſprokends'); from this time
forth, van dezen tijd af, in
het vervolg, 2) voor; to come
forth, voorkomen, optreden g
to send forth, uitzenden;
sally forth, voorwaaris rukkeuz
to take forth, krijgen.
Fortieth, bv. de veertigfte:
Fortification
de vesting -
fthans:
to
to Fortify, b. w. verfterken, be
ien
vestigen, 2) versterken,
mand in zijn befluit doen vol
harden, 3) opwekken, aanmoe►
digen, opbeuren.
Fortitade, z. moed, Fondvastig-
heid.
Fortnight, zamentrekking van
fourteen nights, veertien dagen,
Fortress, z. eene vesting, fterke
plaets,
Fortunate, bv. gelukkig.
Fortunately, bw. gelukkiglijk.
Fortune, z. de fortuin, lukgo.
din, het geluk, het lot, het
noodlot; if fortune favour uş
ever so little, indien flechts de
fortuin ons gunftig is, 2) a
good fortune, an ill fortune, a
misfortune, een goed of flecht
toeval; by fortune, bij geluk ;
3) vormogen, rijkdom, goede-
ren.
Forty, bv. veertig.
Forward,
Forward, forewards, bw. voor.
waarts; to go backwards for-
wards, heen en weer gaan, 2)
yas tijd; from this time for•
ward, van us af can, VAS
nu of.
to Forward, b. w. bespoedigen,
bevorderen.
114
For.
392
F. R
FR
rwardness, z. voorbarigheid, | French, z. de franschman ; french
onbezónnenheid.
Fought, o. t. van to Fight.
Foul, bv. vail; morfig.
Found, e. t. en dwi van to Find.
Fomination, z. de grondflag.
to Founder, o. w te grondgaan;
w:
the ship would founder,
het
hip ging zinken.
Fountain; z de bion, de fon
tein.
?
Four, bv. vier; to creep on all
fours, op handen en voeten
kruipen.
Füurlands, z. de vierlandcn, cen
gedeelte van het gebied van
Hamburg.
Fourteenth, bv. veertiende.
Fourth, bv. vierde.
mv. de franfchon.
to Frequent, o. w. verkeeren,
omgaan (met).'
Frequently, bw. meermaleń, dik.
wijls.
5
Fresh, bv. frisch versch; fresh
water, versch water; fresh air,
verfche lucht; to take fresh
courage, nieuwen (frisfchen)
mocdfcheppen, 3) wakker,le■
vendig, 4) Stork, tamelijk
fork; a fresh gale, eene fris.
fche koelte.
Prèsbnest, z. de koelte.
Friction, ze de wrijving.
Friday, z. vrijdag, 2) Vrijdag,
de naam van Robinsons losgoo
71005.
Fowl, z. een vogel, =) gevogelte | Fried, dw. en o't. van to Fry.
in het algemeen.
Friend, z. de vrien di
Fihilty, z. zwakheid, gebrekke-Friendly, bv. en bw. vriendelijk,j
lijkheid, broosheid.
vriendſchappelijk.
+
Frime; z. het raam, de flellaad- Friendship, z. de vriendſchap.
je; fime of beams, een rifto Fright, b. w. verfchrikken,
qanbalken, 2) de ligchamelij-
་
&
ke geftelte; his whole frame
trombled, zijn ganſchè ligchasm
beefde; 3) frame of mind, ge-
moedsgefteldheid.
to Fame, b. w.vormen; to frame
a judgment, een oordeel vor
wen, vollen.
France, z. Frankrijk,
.F.ankly, bv. openhartig.
Fraternal, bv. broederlijk.
Fraud, z. een bedrog.
Frée, bv. vrij, to set free, op
vrije voeten ftellen.
to Frée, b. w. vreijen, vrij la-
ten, bevrijden.
Fréely, bw. vrijwillig, vrije-
lijk.
French, hv.fransch; french beans,
roomfche boonen.
doen schrikken, vrecs aanjagen.
Fright, z. de fchrik, vrees; to
put one in a fright, iemand
vrees aanjagen;
to Frighten, b. w. deon ſchriko
kon, ſchrik aanjagen; fright-
ened to death, doodelijk vers
fchrikt.
Frightful, bv. fchrikkelijk, vrees-
felijk.
}
Frightfully, bw. op eene fchriks
kelijke, vreesfelijke wijze.
From, vz. van (het gewoonlijke
toeken van den vierden naam*
val, ablativus), from on high,
-
om hoogs from thence,.
van daar; from without, van
buiten; from in plaats van
out; bij ſommige engelsche
werkwoorden bezig men from
hose
FU
39%
FU
hetwelk alsdan door onder.
feleidene hollandfche vz. ver-
taald wordt, als:
als: to hinder
one from doing a thing, iemand
in iets hinderen.
Front, z. de voorzijde, het front.
Frozen, dw, van to Freeze, the
frozen sea, de ijszee.
Frugal, z. paarzaam, 2) matig.
Frugality, z. Spoorzaamheid, 2)
matigheid.
Fruit, z. de vrucht:
Fruitless, bv. vruchtelooss
Fruittree, z. vruchtbooms
to Frùstrate, b. w. verijdelon, te
lear ftellen; to frustrate one's
hopes, ismands hoop verij de-
len; to be frustrated in one's
hopes, to leur gefteld wor-
denden.
to Fry, b. w. braden, bakken;
2) to fry out, doordringen,
uitfiepeles.
Fryingpan, z. de braadpan.
Fuel, Z. brandstof, al wat voed-
fel aan het vuur geoft.
Fugitive, bv. vlugtig, vlug-
sende.
Fágitive, z. een vlugteling.
to Fulfil, b. w. vervullen, 2)be
vredigen.
Full, bv. vel; to have eat one's
belly full, zijn genoegen gege-
ten hebben; to fall at full length,
zoo lang als men.is op dem
grond vallen.
||
Full, bw. ten vollen; full as
good, ruim zoo goed.
Fully, bw, ten vollen, volkomen;
he was fully convinced, hij was
volkomen overtuigd; fully re-
solved, rast beſloten hebbends.
Fulsome, bv. walgelijk.
Für, z. bont, pels; wrapped up in
far, in pelswerk gewikkeld.
Fúrious, bv. woedend, razend,
verweed, onstuimig.
to Furl, b. w. wikkelon, kreg.-
ken, kreukelen; to farl a sail,
een zeil oprollen, inhalen.
Furnace, z. het formuis, de oven.
to Furnish, b. w. voorzien met
hst noodige.
Furniture, z. huisroad, 2) ge-
rasdſchappen in het algemeen..
Further, vergelijkende trap vun
Forth, bv. en bw. voorts, vera
der; till a further order, tor
nader bevel; let us hear what
happened further, laat ons hoo-
Pen wat er voorts gebeuraes-
Fürchest, overtreffende trap vas
Forth; at furthest, ten langfej
the furthest point, het verfiè,
uiterße einde.
Fúry, z, de woede.
Fúcure, bv. toekomftig, z. de
tockomit.
Futurity, 2. de toekomst; in the
remotest futurity, in de laasfie
soekomst..
་
GA
GA
to Gain, b. w. winnen; to gafu | Gáte, z:˜een frisſche wind, hare
one's end, zijn doel bereiken.
Gainer, z winner, iemand die
wist; to be a gainer, de win-
nende partij zijn..
de wind.
Gallaut, bv. dapper, braaf.
Galleon, 2. eens foort van groo
re ſchepon, congaljoen,galjas.
Lis
Garb,
394
GI
GE
Garb, z. de kleeding.
Cardin, z. de tuis.
Gårdener, z de tuinier, tuinman.
Gardenground, z. de moesgrond.
Chrdening, z. de tuinbouw, de
tuinmanskunst.
Gardenwork, z tuinwerk.
Garter, z. de koufuband.
Gate, z. eene poort, groote deur;
not far from the gates of Ham-
bro', niet ver van de Ham-
burgfcha poorten.
to Gather, b. w. intumeler,ver-
zamelen.
Gave, o. t. van to Give.
Gauts, z. het gebergte Gates,
op het fchiereiland can doze
zijde van den Ganges.
Gecse, niv. von Goose, z.
a Geese go, eene ganzenwri.
Gèneral, z. het geheel, het al-
gemeen; in general, in het al-
gemeen, 2) de generaal, veld-
hecr,
to Gêt, b. w. betamen, verkrijė
.
gu
+
gen, aannemen; he got sight of
it hij kreeg het in het oog,
-2) maken dat iets gefchiedrs
he got himself enlisted, hij nam
dienst, 3) door arbeid en mɔeid
te verkrijgen; he got an bonese
livelihood, hij bekwam eзn fat-
Soonlijk bestaan, 4) als beloo
ning ontvangen, now he gets
his deserts, xu krijgt hij loon
naar werken; 5) to get out,
uitbrengen; to get through,
tot stand brengen; to get hold
of one, iemand vatten, aan.
vatten, 6). o. w. zich voors
bewegen; he got up, hij Bond
op; to get under sail, onder zeil
gaan, 7) geraken, bereiken,
aankomen; the fire had got to
the powder room, het vuur was
aan de kruidkamer gekomen;
8) to get the betterof, de over-
hand behalen.
*
Generally. bu over het alge Giddy, bv. duizėlig, 2) ligga
meen, a) gemeenlijk.
Generátion, z. het geflacht, hat
*ijdperk.
Gênerous, bv: grootmoedig, edel.
moedig.
Gènerously, bw.grootwoodiglijk.
Gentéel, bv. fatsoenlijk; a gen-
tuel education, cene fatsoenlij-
ke opvoeding.
Gentle, bv. zacht,
bv. zacht, záchtmoedig.
Gentlemen, z. een heer, con fat-
foenlijk man.
Gèntly, bw. zachtmoediglijk
vriendelijk.
Geographical, bv. aardrijkskun
de; in your geographical lessons,
in uwe aardrijkskundige lossen.
German, by duitsch.
3:
Germany, z. Duitschlandi
Gèsture, z. gebaarden.
|
zinnig; some giddy young men
eenige onbezonneue jongs lie
don, 3) in eene hooge mate
met iets ingenomen zijn ; I
will have his head turn giddy,
ik wil hem daarmede het hoofd
op hol brengen.
+
Gift, z. de gave, het geſchenk.
to Gild, b. w. vergulden; 2) fig.
the sun gilded the tops of the
mountains, de zon vergulde de
bergtoppen.
Giulet, z. een boor.
Gin, z. een ftrik, een val.
*
to Gird, b. w. omgorden, aan.
gorden.
Girdle, z. de gordal.
Girl, z. het meisje.
+
to give, b. w. geven; 2) to give
way, wijken, fosgeven ; to give
one's
GO
395
GO
one's self up to one, zich aan
iemand overgeusn.
Giver, z. de gever.
Glad, bv. vrolijk; I am glad of
it, het verheugt mij.
Gladly, bw. met blijdſchap.
Glass, z. hes glas, zoo wel het
glas, als foffe, als de daat-
uit vervaardigde vaten.
Glassbead, z. de glaskoroal.
to Glaze, b. w. verglazen.
to Glitter, 0. w. Schemeren,
blinken; a glittering thing, iets
blinkends.
Globe, z. de aardbol, s) eene
kunftig vervaardigde aardbol,
eene globe.
·
Gloóm, z. duisterheid, 2) droe.
vigheid.
Gloomy, bv. donker, duister;
gloomy shades, donkere feha-
duw.
Glúrious, bv. roemrijk; it was a
glorious night, het was 0cn
roemrijke nacht.
Glove, z. een handfcheen.
to Glów, o. w. gloeijen, eigen
lijk en f.
Gnát, z. esne mug.
to Guaw, b. w. knagen, knob-
belen.
to Go, o. w. gaan; if he would
go along with him, of hij met
hem wilde gaan, 2) op het
pant zijn van iets te doen; he
was going to see the world, hij
ging de wereld zien; 3) mes
about, iess ondernemen ; 4) to
go astray, dwalen; 5) the sky
goes down, de zon gaas en-
der: 6) to go on, voortgaan.
Goát, z. de geis.
God, z. God.
vrooms
Godly, bv. godzalig,
godly actions, vrome daden.
Góing, dw. van to Go, he was
going to see, hij ging zien.
Gold, z. goud.
Golddust, z. ftofgoud.
Goldcoin, z. gouden munt.
Golden, bv. van goud, gouden.
Gone, dw. van to Go, the mo
ther was too far gone, de moe
der was to ver weg, ie zeer
verzwakt.
-
Good, bv. goed, a) dienftig;
your umbrella is good for no.
thing, aw regenfcherm deugs
nies, 3) aanmerkelijk; a good
whrie, eene goede poos; a good.
deal, veel; 4) to be as good as
one's word, woord houden.
Good, z. een goed, het goede
it would do not good, het zou.
de geen goed doen,2) het bes
se; for our good, voor ons wol»
zijn; you will find much good
by it, gij zult u daarbij zeer
wel bevinden; 3) goods,´gol=
deren, waren.
Goóduátured,
goed.
辈
​bv. goedhartig,
Goodness, z. de goedheid; the
goodness of his constitution, zija
goede ligchaamsgeftel.
Goose, z. de gans.
Gooseberry, z. de anlbes.
Gooseberrybush, z. de aalbesfons
Aruik.
Got, o, t. en dw. van to Get.
Gotten, dw. yan to Get.
to Govern, b. w. regeren; to
govern the boat, de boos Stu-
reng a) beheerfchen.
Government, z. de regering, rc-
geringswijze.
Godliness, z. vroomheid, godza Governour, z. de beſtuurder; 2)
ligheid.
de Stadhouder y gonworneur,
Grá.
396
GU
GR
5
Gráce, z. de genade, de gunst;
a) de vergiffenis, bet pardon.
Grácions, bv. genadig.
graad, zeer; greatly rejoiced,
zeer verhougd.
Greediness, z. de gretigheid.
Good gracious! (tusfchenw.) lis | Greek, z. de griek.
ve home!!
Graciously, bw. genadiglijk.
Gradually, bw, trøpsgewijze
langzamerhand.
to Gràft, b. w. enten.
Gràft, z. een entstok, entsak.
Grafting, z. het enten.
Grafting wax, z. boomlijm.
Gráin, z. het graan, koorn, 2)
zaad van andere gewasfen; 3)
korrels; grains of shot, hagel.
Granary, z. de ſchuur.
Grandpapa, z. de grootvader.
to Grant, b. w, toestaan, ver.¦
|
•
Green, bv. groen.
Green, z. de groente,
kruiden.
Grew, o. t. vaa to Grow.
Grief, z. de droefheid.
to Griéve, b. w. bedroever; ic
grieves me, het doet mij loed.
Grievous, bv. verdrietelijk.
Grievously, bw. verdrietelijk.
to Grind, b. w. wrijven, malen;
to grind corn, koorn malen.
Grindstone, z. een molenficen,
een Alijpfteen.
to Gróan
to Gróan, o. w. kermen, zuchtes.
gunnen; God grant, geve God, Gróan, Z. een zucht.
to grant grace, genade bewij | Groóm, z. knecht; a groom of
zen; you shall have your lives the chamber, een kamerdienaar.
granted, gij zult het leven be-Gròito, z. een hol, gros.
houden.
Grápe, z. de druif,druiventros.
to Grass, b. w. grijpen, vatten.
Grass, z. het gras.
Grassplot, z. het bleekveld, gras.
veld, grasplek.
Gratification, z. de bevrediging.
Grateful, bv. dankbaar.
Gratefully, bw, met dankbaarheid.
to Gratify, bw. boyredigen; to
gratify one's curiosity, iemands
nieuwsgierigheid bevredigen.
Grátis, bv. kosteloos, om niet.
Gratitude, z. de dankbaarheid.
Gråve, bv. ernſtig, plegtig.
Gráve, z. het graf.
Gravely, bw. ernſtiglijk.
to Gráze, o. w.grazen, weiden.
Greát, bv. groof; a great many,
eene groote menigte, 2) groot
(tijd beduidende ); a great
while, een geruimen tijd.
Greatly, bw conen hoogen
Ground, 0, t. en dw. van to
Grind.
Ground, z. de grond; he fell on
the ground, hij viel op den
grond; an elevated ground, con
verhevene grond, 2) de grond,
rede, het bewijs.
to Ground, b. w. gronden, ves»
tigen; well grounded, wel ge-
grond.
Ground-floor, z. de benedenvloer.
to Grów, o. w. groeijen, was,
fen, a) worden; it grew dark,
hes werd donker.
Grown, dw. van to Grow; grown
people, volwassen menfchen.
Growth, de wasdom, groei.
1
to Grüb, b. w. met den wortel
uitgraver.
Guanako, z. een Zuidamerikaansch
dier, ook lama genoemd.
to Guard, b. w. bewaken, bewa.
ren, a) beſelier men.
G#-
GU
!
GU
897
Guárd, z. de wacht; 2) to be
upou one's guard, op zijne hoe-
de zijn.
Guàrding, bv. beſchermend ; guar-
ding care, de beſchermende zorg,
to Guess, b. w. en o. w. gisfen,
vermoeden, 2) raden.
Guest, z. de gast.
Guídance,z. de leiding, beſtiering.
to Guide, b. w.geleiden, besturen.
Guide, z. een leidsman.
Guile, z. de list, het bedreg;
in whom there was no guile, in
wien geene valschheid fchuilde.
Guilt, z. de fchuld, de misdaad.
Gufity, bv. ſchuldig ; woich I have
been guilty of, waaraan ik mij
heb fchuldig gemaakt.
Guinea, z. eene landftreek aan
1
+
de westkust van Afrika; a
Guinea trader, een Guinea vaar-
der, 2) eeno enge!!che goud,
munt, van 21 engelfche fchel-
lingen, (ruim 11 gulden hol-
landsch).
Gull, z. eene foort van zeemeeuw.
Gulph, z. de afgrond.
Gun, z. fchietgeweer, ſnaphean,
kanon.
Gunpowder, z. buskruid,
to Gush, b. w. uitforten; a ‘ear
gushed down his cheek ? eene
traan vloeide langs zijne
wang..
Gust, z. de Root; a gush of wind,
een rukwind,
Gút, z. een darm; mv. het inge-
wand.
HA
Habit, z. de gewoonte, manier;
an easy habit, ongedwengene
manieren.
Habitation, z. woning.
Habitual, bv. hebbelijk, gewoon.
Hackle, z. de hekel.
to Hackle, b. w. hekelen.
Had, o. t. en dw. van to Have.
Hail, z. de hagel.
له
Ildir, z. het haar; your hair will
staud on end, de haren zullen
te berge rijzen.
Half, bv. half; bw. half, ten
halve.
Halloo (tusfchenw.) allo!,
to Halloo, b. w. allo rosper,
Canmoedigen.
HA
Hand, z. de hand; his hand is in,
hij is daarmede bezig; winter
is at hand, de winter isop han-
den i
before hand, vooraf,
vooruit.
Handful, z. eene handvol.
Handicraft, z, een handwerk.
Handicraftman, z. cen ambachts◄
77 (172.
Handkerchief, z. een mensdoek.
Handle, z. ket handvatfel, hacht,
de feel.
to Handle, b. w. behandelen,
hanteren ; how to handle
knife, hoe hij met een mos
maest omgaan.
Hàndmill, z. een handmolen.
to Halt, o. w. blijven faan,kalt | Handsome, bv. moei̟, fraai,lief,
houden.
Hammer, z. de hamer.
aardig, 2) dienfig.
to Hang, b. w. hangen; to bang
wa
398
HE
HA
out, aithangen; to hang down,
nederlaten, a) ophangen (ie-
mand), 3) o. w. hangen; to
barg down, neorhangen.
to Happen, o. w. toevallig ge-
bearen; let us hear what hap-
pened to R., laat ons hooren
was R. bejegende; a ship that
happened to be near, con fchip
hetwelk toevallig in de nabij-
heid was, 2) toevallig tot iets
geraken.
Happily, bw. bij geluk, geluk-
kiglijk.
Happiness, z. het geluk.
Happy, bv. gelukkig.
Harassed, bv. vermoeid, afgetobt
to Harbour, b. w. herborgen; tɔ
harbour a suspicion, esnen arg-
waan voeden.
Hård, bv. en bw, hard, vast, 2)
zwaar, moeijelijk; a bard con-
test een harden frijd; to
work hard, hard werken, 2)
ferk, hevig; it rained very
hard, het regende zeer fterk.
to Harden, b. w. verhardan, fterk
maken; to harden one's consti-
tution, zijn ligchaam verfter-
ken; o. w. hard worden, ver-
harden.
Hardly, bw. naauwelijks, be-
zwaarlijk.
|
Harness, z. het hoofdtuig van
een paard.
to Harness, b. w. het hoofdtuig
aandoen, toomeu.
Harrow, z. de eg.
to Harrow, b. w. eggen.
Harry, . verkort van Henry 9
Hondrik.
Harsh, bv. ruw, hard.
Harvest, z. de orgst.
Hàsp, z. can grendel.
་
Haste, z. haast, spoed; in haste,
haastig; to make haste,
zich
haasten.
•
to Hasten, haste, zich haasten;
to haste away, zich weg/pos→
den; to basten a work, een werk
fchielijk afmaken.
Hasily, bw. haastiglijk.
Hasty, bv. haastig; with hasty
steps, met haastige fchreden.
Hát, z. de hoed.
Hatches, z. de bijl; his stone hat-
ches, zijn eenen bijl.
Hateful, bv. hatelijk.
to Have, b. w. hebben.
Having, dw. van to Have, ook z.
het hebben.
to Hául, b. w. trekken, ſlepen;
they hauld the boat to the ship.
zij haalden de boet naar het
Schip toe.
Háy, z. het hoof.
Hardship, z. vermoeijenis, onge- Háyrick, z. de hooivork.
mak.
Harm, z. kwaad, beleediging; it
had done him no harm, het had
hem geen leod gedaan, 2) ſcha-
nadeel; what harm wine
de
•
does, hoe nadeelig de wijn is.
Farmless, bv. onfchadelijk, on-
fchuldig.
Harmónious, bv. overeenfiem
mend.
Harmony, 2. overcenftemming.
Hazelnut, z, een hazelnoot.
Hé, (perſ. voornw.) hij, 2) een
mannelijk dier; a he lama, een
lamabok; a he one, een man
netje.
Head z. het hoofd; head over
heels, hels over hoofd, s) de
Spits, de top, 3) verſtand,
wil; it come into his head, he
put it into his head, hij kwam
op de gedachte; it ran through
his
HE
399
HE
de verhitting,
op
his head, hat ging how door | Heating, Z. het hees maken, 2)
het hoofd; this head of mine is
an excellent one, viyat mijn
kop! 4) hoofdafdeeling, hoofd -
fuk; to unite them under one
common head, om dezelven on
der cen puns to zamen te bren
gena
Flèadake, headache, z. hoofdpijn.
Headlong, bw. hals over hoofd,
hals over kop.
to Héal, b. w. heelen.
Health, z. de gezondheid.
Healthy, bv. gezond, ch
Heap, z. een hoop.
☛
to Héan, b. w. ophoopen, opſtar
pelen.
to Hear, b. w. en o w. haeres.
to Hearken, o, w. luisteren; they
hearkened to him with great at.
tention, zij luisterden mer
groote oplettendheid maar hem.
Heart, z her hart, (zoo wel ei-
genlijk als f.), with all my
heart, zeer gaarne, he could
not find it in his heart, hij kon
het nier van zich verkrijgen;
he took heart, hij schepto moed;
a) geheugen; to know by heart,
vau buiten kennen; 3) for this
heart, voor zijn leven.
Hearts ease, z. at his hearts ease,
naar wensch.
Hearth, z. de haard.
Heartily, bw. hartelijk,
?
Hearty, bv. harsig, hartelijk;
a hearty shake, een duchtigs
Schok.
W
Heat, z. de hitte, 2) de hevig
heid, drifs, in the heat of his
joy, in het midden zijner blijd-
Schap.
to Héave, b. w. opheffen, optrek-
ken; to heave on shore,
firand trokken, 2) uis de borst
opheffen; to heave a deep sigh,
eone zware Zucht leoZEN.
Heaven, z. de hemel, 2) het ope
perwezen.
Heavenly, bv. hemelsch ; our
heavenly father, onze hemelsche
vader.
2.
Heavily, bw.bezwaarlijk, zwaar,
Heavy, bv. zwaar, 2) traag
langzaam; time appears heavy
to him, de tijd vølt hem lang.
Hèdge, z. eene heg, omheining.
Héed, acht, zorg, opmerk
Si
zaam; let him who stands take
heed, die ftaat zie toe enz.
Héel, z. de hiel van den voet;
at his heels, can sijue hielan;
head over heels, hals over kope
Héight, z. de hoogte, a) de bong-
Ao trap of groed; in the height
of his joy, in het midden, op
het hoogste, zijner vreugde y
when the fire was burning at its
height, toon de vlammen koog
opfloegen.
to Héighten, by w. verhoogan,
verheffen.
Heir, & de erfgenaam.
Held, o. . en dw. van to Hold.
to Help, b. w. helpen, bijſtaan,
2) verhinderen, verhelpen; we
can't help it, wij kunnen het
nist helpen; he could not help
but, hij kon niet dan; he could
not help shedding a tear, kij
kon sich niet onthouden trav
nen te forten, 3) aan tafel,
4
to Heat, b. w. verkiston, heat 4 iemand dienen; to help one to
maken.
Heathen, z. een heiden.
some thing.
Help, z. de hulp.
Kka
Hel
400
H I
Η Ι
Helper, z. de helper.
Helpless, bv. hulpeloos; in his
helpless condition, in zijnen
hulpeloozen toeftand.
Hem! (tusfchenw.) hei, ei!
Hemp, z. honnip.
Hence, bw. van hier, van daar.
Henceforth, bw. in het vervolg,
in het toekomende.
Henry, z. Hendrik.
Her, (perfoonl. voornaamw.) haar,
(ook van Schepen in het en-
gelsch), a wave carried her up
to the sky, eene golf voerde
hetzelve naar de wolken; while
she lay on one side, terwijl het
op zijde lag.
Herb, z. eone plant, kruid.
Herd, z. eene kudde.
Hére, bw. hier.
Hére about, bw. hieromtrent.
Héroafter, bw. hierna.
Héreby, bw. hierbij, hierdoor,
door dit middel.
Hérein, bw. hierin, daurin, er in.
Héreof, bw. hiervan, daarvan.
Héreon, bw. hierop, hieraan.
Hereto, bw. hiertoe, hieraan.
Ilèrmit, z. de kluizenaar.
Héro, heroe, z. de held.
Heròical, bv. heldhaftig.
Herring, z. een haring.
to Hèsitate, b. w. aarzelen, be-
fuiteloos zijn, huiverig zijn;
he besitated a few moments, hij
bedacht zich eenige oogen-
blikken.
Hesitation, z. de besluiteloosheid;
without any hesitation, zonder
een oogenblik te aarzelen.
to Hew, b. w. houwen, vollen,
2) bohouwen, inhouwen.
Hid, o. t. en dw. van to Hide,
verbergen.
to Hide, b. w. verbergen; ke
hid himself behind a tree, hij ver
bergde zich achter eenen boom.
Hide, z. de huid van een dier.
Hideous, bv. afzigtelijk, affch um
welijk.
Hideously, bw. afſchuwelijk.
High, bv. en bw. hoog; on higb,
in de hoogte; from ou high,
van boven, a) hovig, ferk;
the wind blew high, het waaide
geweldig; high winds, harde
winden.
Highly, bw. ten hoogte; he was
highly delighted, hij was zeer
verblijd.
High water, z. hoog water,vloed,
Springtij.
Hill, z. bergje, heuvel.
Hìm, (van he, perfoonl. voor
naamw.) hem.
Himself, (perfooul. voornaamw.)
hem zelven, hij zelf; he was
besides himself, hij was buites
zich zelven; he lived by him-
self, hij leefde op zich zelven.
Hind, bv. achterfte, achteren;
the hind part, het achterdeel s
a hindquarter, een achterfuk.
Hinder van Hind, zie Hind; on
his hinderlegs, op zijne achter.
poten.
to Hinder, b. w. verhinderen,
hinderen, (mes from).
Hinge, z. het fchernier.
Hiut, z. cen wenk, toefpeling.
His, (bezittel. voornaanw.) zijn,
zijne; enkelv. on mv.
History, z do gofchiedenis; bis-
tory of travels, reisbefchrij--
ving; natural history, natuur-
lijke gefchiodonis.
to Hit, b. w. treffen, raken; he
hit the mark, hij trof het doel
to hit upon a notion, op eene
gedachte komen; hit upon, aan-
glo
Η Ο
401
HO
(geduid, aangewezen, 2) rade i,
juist gisfen; you have hit it
gij hebt hes geraden.
Hit, z. een flag, worp, houw,
2) een toeval'; a lucky hit, een
gelukkig toeval, 3) een inval.
Hitherto, bw. tot nu toe,
hier toe.
home, zijue eigen haardßade
verlaten.
Home, bw. naar huis, huiswaarts,
to“ go home, naar zijne haard-
fede terugkeerėn.
Honest, by. eerlijk; regtſchapen,
broaf; an honest man Ben
braaf man.
-
Hobgoblin, z. een spook, herſen- Honesty, z. de braafheid, eers
fchimmig wezen.
Hogshead, z. een okshoofds.con
groot var.
to Hoist, b. w. in de hoogte hef-
fen; to hoist the sail, het zei!
opkijſchen; to hoist a flag, e:-
ne vlag opfteken; to hoist a
boat, eene boot uitzetten.
to Hold, b, w. houden, to hold
out, withouden, uitftrekken;
to hold a conversation, een ge-
Sprck houden.
Hold, z. it has no hold, het heeft
geen hondvast; 2) to lay hold,
take hold, get hold of a thing,
iets aangrijpen, vatten; 3)
the hold, het raim vas een
fchip; there is four foot water
in the hold, er is vier vost was
ser in het ruïn.
Hóle, z. een hol, 2) con gåti-
Hollow by hot; the tree was
hollow with age, de boom was
door ouderdom aisgehold.
to Hollow, b. w. hol maken, uit.
hellan.
Hollow, z. eene holte, con hol,
a) de diepse
Holy, bv. heilig.
Homage, z. de eed van getrouw-
heid, de håldiging; to do him
fromage, ham huldigen.
Home, z. het huis; at home, te
huis; 2) de haardftede, het va•
derland; to leave one's own
lijkheid.
to Honour, b. w; eeren,
achsen.
hoog.
Honour, z. het eerambt, de waar.
Bigheid, 2) de
Honourable, bv. geëerd, achtings
waardig, eervöl.
to Hòp, o. w. huppelen, hopping
about, rondhuppelende:
Hope', z. de hoop, to be in hopes,
hoop voeden.
to Hope, b. w. hopen.
Horizon; z. de gezigteinder, ho
rizon.
Horizontally, bw, horizontaal
waterpas.
Horn, z de hoorn.
Horned, bv. gehoornd, met hoor-
nan voorzién; the horned mon-
ster, het gehoornde gedrogs.
Horribly, bw. ijsfelijk, fchrikke
lijk, akelig
Horror 2. fats ſchrikkelijks,
ortesſelijks, akeligį,
Horse, z. het paard.
Horsehair, z: het paardèhear.
Hospitality, z. de gastvrijheid,
Host, z. de gastheer.
Hostile bv. vijandelijk; in a
hostile manner, op eene vijans
delijke wijze.
Hot, bv. hees; redhot, gloeijend,
Hour, z. het uur, 2.) de klok.
House, z. het huis; a storehouse;
een voorraadſchuør, pakhuis ge
magazijn.
402
HY
HU
flousehold, z, de huishouding, 2) | to Hunt, bw. en o. w. jagen.
huisraad.
Hole, bw. hoe, op welke wijze.
However, bw. intusschen, even-
wel, echter, niettemin; how-
ever great, hoe groot ook.
Howl, z. het gehuil.
to Howl, o. w. huilen; a howling
hurricane, een huilende form.
Howling, z. het gehuil, geloei.
to fùddle, o. w. zich in haust
verzamelen.
to Hug, b. w. omhelzen, omarmen.
Huge, bv. gedrogtelijk,
- groot.
2807
Húman, bv. menfchelijk; a human
►
creature, een mensch; a human
voice, eene menfchelijke ftem. |
Humáne, bv. menschlievend, vriem |
delijk.
2) de
Humanity, z. de menschheid, het
menfchelijk geflacht
menschlievendheid.
Humble, bv. nederig, onderda-
nig; your most humble servant,
uw onderdanige dienaar.
to Humble, b. w. vernederen.
Humbly, bw. nederig.
Humility, z. nederigheid.
Humour, z. luim; in good hu-
mour, in een goeden laim.
san
Hundred, bv. honderd.
Hanter, z. de jager ; a hunter's
pouch, eene wijtasch, jagtbosch.
Hunting z. hes jagen, de jagt;
on this day he did not go a
hunting, op dezen dag ging hij
niet op de jagt.
Huntsman, z. een jager.
Hurricane, z. cen orkaan, hevige
Storm.
to Hurry, o. w. zich houston,
zich speeden.
Hurry, z. de haast, overhaasting,
to Hurt, b. w. beſchadigen, beo
zeren, kwetfen; it was not in
the least hurt, het was geheel
onbeschadigd.
Hurt, z. ſchade, nadeel, kweifings
Hurtful, bv. ſchadelijk, nadcelig.
Flùsband, z. de echtgenoot, man,
gemaal; her deceased husband,
haar overleden man, 2) huis-
vader; as a good husband, air
een goods huisvader.
Husbandman, z. landman.
Husbandry, z. de landbouw.
Hash! (tusfchenw.) til!
to Flush, b. w. fillen, the storm
was hushed, de Form had zich
gelegd.
Hush, z. de fchil, de bast.
Hut, z. eene hat.
Hung, o. t. en dw. van to Hang. Hymn, z. een lofzang, lied; ook
Hùnger, z. de honger.
Hungry, bv, hongerig.
a hymn of praise.
Hypochondriack, bv. miltzuchtig.
I D
Eenige woorden met im on in beginnende
de letter D.
I, (perfoonl. voornaamw.) ik.
Idea, 2. een begrip, eene voor.
I D
vindt men onder
felling, een denkbeeld, eene
gedachte § 1 have an idea,, mij
ورا
dunki,
IM
403
IM
dunkt, ik meen from an idea,
-
is de mesning.
1dle, bv. sraag,
§
las, a) ledig
to sit quite idle, ledig zisten.
Idleness, Z. Jusheid, 2) de ledig
gang.
If, (voegw.) indiens
'gnorance, z. de onwetendheid.
'gnorant, bv. onwetend; to be
ignorant of a thing, iets niet
Wetes.
>
+
I'll, in plaats van I will.
Ill, bv. en bw. flecht, boos, 2)
krank, zick; to be taken ill,
ziek ziju, 3) ill fortune, ongeluk.
liness, z. flechtheid, 2) ziekie.
Illusion, z. dwaling, verblindheid.
Imaginable, bv. bedankelijk.
Imaginary, by, horſenſchimmig,
ingebeeld.
Imagination, z. de verbeelding,
inbeciding, 2) een begrip, ce.
ne yourftelling.
to Imagine, b. w. zich verbool
den; it is not to be imagined,
men kan zich niet verbeelden',
2) uitvinden.
W.
to Imbark, embark, b. w. en o. w.
infchepen, zich infchepen.
co Imbellish, b. w. verfraaijen,
fieren.
Imbellishment + z. de
jing, het fieraad.
mense ocean, de onmetelijke
ocoaas.
Imminent, bv. voor de oogen zwe-
vende; an imminent danger, sen
dreigend gevaar.
Immoderate, bv. onmatig.
Immòrtal, bv. onflerfelijk.
Immortality, z.de onsterfelijkheid
Immoveable, bv. onbewegelijk.
to Impair, b. w. verzwakken,
so Impart, b. w. mededeelen.
kinpatience, z. ongeduld.
Impatient, bve ongeduldig.
Impatiently, bw. ongeduldiglijk.
to Impéde, b. w. verhinderen,
ophouden, belemmeren.
Impediment, z. hiuderpaal,
dernis.
hing
to lupél, b. w. aandrijven.
Imperceptible, bv. onmerkbaar.
Imperfect, bv. onvolmaakt.
Imperfection, z. de onvolmaakt.
heid.
Impetuous, bv. onfiuimig.
Impetuosity, z. de onstuimigheid,
hevigheid.
to implant, be w. imprenten, ins
planten.
Implement, z, het werktuig.
Importance, z. de gewigtigheid;
to be of importance,gewigtig zijn
verfraai-Important, by. gewigtig.
to Imbitter, b. w. verbisteren.
Imitable, bv. navolgbaar, nayoj-
genswaardig.
to Imitate, b. w. navolgen, na.
doen, namaken,
Imitation, z. de navolging.
Immédiate, bv. onmiddellijk; for
his immédiate use, tot zijn on
middellijk gebruik; bw. ter-
Bond, oogenblikkelijk.
Iamèuse, bv. onmetslijk; the im-
T
to Impose, b. w. opleggen, be
lasten; 2) on one, iemand mis-
leiden, bedriegen.
Impossibility, z. de onmogelijkheid.
Impòssible, bv. onmogelijk,
Impossibly, bw. onmogelijk.
Impostor, z. een bedrieger.
Imposture, z. het bedrag.
Impression, z. de indruk; it made
a deep impression on his heart.
Improbable, bv. onwaarſchijnlijk.
Impr.per, bv. onyoegzaam, onbe-
tamelijk.
Ak 4
to
404
IN
IN
to Improve, b. w. verbeteren, 2)} Inclòiure, exclósure, z, de om
o. w. zich beteren, vorderen;
to improve in some art, in cor
nige kunst vorderingen maken.
Improvement, z - de verbetering,
vordering.
heining.
to Include, by w. inhouden, ber
vätten.
·
to Insòmmodase, b. w. bezwaars
lijk vallen.
Imprudence, 2. de onvoorzig-~| Incomprehènsible, bv. onbegrijo'
sigheid.
Imprúdent, bv. onvoorzigtig.”
Impulse, z. de aandrang.
Iu, vz. (ter aanduiding van tijd,
plaats en toeft and); in the coun-
try, op het land, buiten; in
doing nothing - met `niets te
doen; in the daytime, bij dags
in body, ligchamelijk; in all
likelihood, naar alle waars
fchijnlijkheid.
:
In, bw. while his hand was in, zw
hij er eens was; to come in,
to get in, inkomen.
pelijk.
·
Inconsideracy, z. ogbezonnenheid.-
Inconsiderate, z. onbedacht, on-
bezonnen; an inconsiderate be-
haviour, een onbezónnen gedrag.
Inconsistent, bv. onbefizanboar
on overeenkomftig, van dour:
ongerijmd, inconsistent with
reason,onbeftaanbaar met de rede
Inconsolable, bv. ontroossbaar.
Inconstancy, z. onbestendigheid,
onftandvastigheid; inconstancy
of human heart, de wankelmor-
digheid van he's menfchelijk harm
--
ro Indble, b. w. in Raat Bellen, Inconvénience, inconveniency, z.
bekwaam maken,
Idrosive, bv. werkoloos.
*
Inadvertently, bw. onachtzaam;
onbedacht.
Iacápable, bv. ozbekwaami
Incapacity, z. onbekwaamheid.
Incèssant, bv. snophoudelijk, on-
afgebroken.
Iacèssandy, bw. zonder ophouden.
Inch, z. duim, het twaalfde ge-
deelte van een voet; four in
four in
ches above waterį vier duim bo-
vom water.
Incident, z. het toeval.
Inclemency, z ruwheid;
•
of the
weather, de guurheid van het
weder.
Inclination, z. de neiging ; — to
travel, de lust tot reizen;
to work, de werkzaamheid.
so Incline, o. w. genegen zijn,
en van daar: bellaisen.
moeijelijkheid,bezwaarlijkheid
Inconvénient, bv. ongemakkelijký
bezwaarlijk.
+
to Incréase, b. w. vermeerderen,
grocter of meer maken, o. w.
vormserderen, grooter of meer
worden.
Incréase, z. de aanwas, vermeera
dering.
Incredible, bv. ongeloofelijk.
Incumbrance
Incumbrance, Z. belemmering ;
hindernis; freed from their in-
cumbrance, van hunnen dwangı
bevrijd.
*
Incurable, bv. ongeneesſelijk, oni
heelbaar.
Indeed, bw. workelijk
in der
daad, waarlijk, 2) wel is waar:
Indefatigable, bv. onvermoeid; inw
defatigable industry, onvermori-
de vlijs..
Indefatigably, bw: onvermoeid.
Indepèndent, bri onafhankelijk.
IN
405
IN
Indian, z. de indiaan; bv. indi-
aansch.
to Indicate, b. w. aantoonen.
Indies, z. mv. de indien; east-,
oostindien; west, westindien.
Indiferent, bv. onverſchillig.
Indifference, z. onverfchilligheid;
a matter of indifference, sone on-
verfchillige zaak.
Indalgent, bv. goed, genadig,
toegevend.
Industrious, bv. vlijtig; an in-
dustrious life, een werkzaam
leven.
Industry, z. vlijt, werkzaamheid.
Inèstimable, bv. onschatbaar.
Inèvitable, bv. onvermijdelijk.
Inexhaustible, bv. onuitputtelijk •
Indigence, z. het gebrak, de neod. | Inexpérience, z. de onervarenbeid.
druft.
Indigent, bv. behoeftig, nood-
lijdend.
Indignation, z. verontwaardiging,
fired with indignation, van ver❤
ontwaardiging blakende, glesi-
jende van toora.
Inexpérienced, z. onervaren, one
dervindingloos.
Inexpressible, bv. onuitdrakke-
lijk, onuiiſprekelijk; wish in-
expressible joy, met onuitsproe
kelijke vreugde.
Infallible, bv. onfeilbaar.
Indispensable, bv. onontbeerlijk; | Infancy, z. de kindsheid.
noodzakelijk.
Indispensably, bw. onvermijde
delijk, onontbeerlijk, noodze-
kelijker wijze.
Indisposed, bv. ongefteld, onpas-
felijk.
Individual, z. eeno enkele zaak
of perfoon, een individa.
Indolence, a craagheid, zorge.
loosheid, luiheid.
Indolent, bv. traag, zorgeloos.
to Indúce, b. w. bewegen, over-
halen, aansporen, verleidės.
to Indulge, b. w. toegeven; to
indulge one's gratitude, zijne
dankbaarheid gehoor geven,
vrijen loop laten; to indulge
One's self, zijn eigen zin of
fmaak volgen; to indulge a
thought, eene gedachte koeste-
ren; to indulge one's joy, zij-
ne vreugde ruimen teugel viem
ren..
.
Indulgence, z. teederheid, reege
negen, 2) toegenegenheid om
arent gebreken van anderen.
the
Infant, bv. jong, kindsch.
to lnfèct, b. w. aanfieken;
air, de lucht verpesten.
to Infeeble, enfeeble, b. w. ver.
zwakken.
J
to Infèr, b. w. befluiten, opmaken.
loférior, bv. lager van plaats,
minder van waardigheid, gen
ringer van ivestone goue was 13
férior to him in knowledge, hij
was in kunde verre beneden hem.
Inferior, 2. cez mindere, onder-
geſchikte.
Infidelity, z. de ongetrouwheid,
trouweloosheid.
Infinite, bv. oneindig.
Infinitely, bw. oneindiglijk ; in.
finitely more wise, oneindig
wijzer.
Infirmity, z. zwakte, ziekte.
Inflamed, bv. en dw. ontvlamd,
aangevuurd.
Influence, z. de invloed.
to Inform, b. w.
10-
of a thing,
berigt wegens iets geven; of
this I was also informed, hier
van kreeg ik ook berigt.
KES
tQ
406
IN
IN
to Infringe, b. w. kreuken, kwet. ( Iusènsible, bv. gevoelloas, onge-
fen, inbreuk maken.
voelig.
to Infuse, b. w. inprenten, in- Insensibility, z. ongevoeligheid.
ftorten, ingeven.
Ingenuity, z. ſcherpzinnigheid,
2) openhartigheid.
Ingratitude, z. de ondankbaarheid.
2
to lubabit, bo w. bewonen; if the
island was inhabited, indien het'
eiland bewoond was.
Inhabitant, z. de inwoner.
Inhúman, bv. onmenschelijk,bar.
bearsch.
4
Inhumanity, z, de onmenschelijk.
heid, wreedhoid.
Initial, bv. aanvankelijk, o01-
Spronkelijk; initial ideas, oor.
Spronkelijke denkbeelden.
Injury, z. de beleediging, ſmosd,
hoon, het ourigte
Ink, z. de inkt.
to Inlist, enlist, b. w. aanwer-
ven; he got himself inlisted, ¦
hij liet zich aanwerven, (nam
dienst),
Inmóst, bv. het binnenfte; from
the inmost of his heart, wit grond
van zijn hart; with inmost plea-
sure, met hartelijke blijdschap.
Innáte, bv. aangeboren.
Inner, bv. inwendig.
Innocence, z. de onfchald.
Innocent, bv. onfchuldig.
Innoxious, bv. enfchadelijk.
Innumerable, bv. ontelbaar.
Innumerous, bv. niet talrijk,
A
ook ontelbaar.:
to Inoculate, bw. inensen.
to Luquire, enquire, b. we naar
iets vragen, vernomon,
Inquiry, z. navraag.
Inscription, z. het opschrift.
Insect, za het infekt, gekoryen
diertje.
•
Insensibly, bw: ongevoeliglijk.
to Insert, b. w. invoegen.
Insider, z. de binnenzijde, het'
binnenße ; the inside of the
wall, de binnenkant van don
muar, 2) het ingewand.
Insignificant, bv. onbeduidend.
Insipid, bv. laf, fmakeloos.
Insolvent, bv. insolvent, niet in
ftaat om zijne fchulden te be-
talen.
to Inspire, b. w. inblazon, in•
Prenten.
Instance, Zi een dringend``` ver·
zoek, 2) voorbeeld; for instan··
ce, bij voorbeeld.
Instant, bv. oogenblikkelijk.
Instant, z. een oogenblik.
Instantly, bw. oogenblikkelijk,
Instead, vz. in plaats; (mes of Jo'
to Instill, b. w. inprenten.
Iusticútion, z. cene inrigsing.
to Instruct, b. w. onderrigten,
onderwijzen; he did not like to
be instructed, hij wilde nies
gaarne onderrigt zijn.
Instruction, 2. het onderwijs, 2)
het voorschrift.
*
Instructive, bv. leergpam, lista
rijk; an instructive conversa❤~
tion een leerrijk geſprek.
Instructor, z. de onderwijzer.
Instrument, z. het werktuig.
Instrumental, bv. dienftig, 680
hulpzaam.
Insupportable, bv. onverdragelijk
Intelligible, bv. verstaanbaar
begrijpelijk, duidelijk.
to Intènd, b. w.voornemens zijnz
to intend a work, eenig werk
voornemens zijn te doen; to
intend some mischief to one,
yoor
ΙΝ
407
1 V
voornemens zijn iemand te
kwellen.
.to
تر
Intention, z. het voornemen.
10 Intercéde, o. w. bemiddelen
tusfchenfpreken, voorfpreken ;
with heaven for him, den
hemel voor hem bidden.
Interest, zhes voordeel;het welzijn
Interesting, bv. belangrijk.
Interim, 2. in the interim, in den
tusfchentijd; 1) bw. ondertus-
fchen, intusfchen.
Intermédiate, bv. sasfcher;
space, tusfchenruimie.
Intermission, z. opschorting, of
breking, ophouden; without any
intermission, zonder verpoozing.
to Interpose, b. w. bomiddelen.
Latèrpreter, 2. de tolk, vertaler.
to luterràpt, b..w. afbreken, in
de rede vallen.
1
Interview, z. een mondgesprek.
to Interweave, b. w. doorwEDEN,
doorvlechten; which he inter-
weave with branches, welke hij
met takken doorvlocht.
Intimate, bv. vertrouwd.
to Intimate, b. w. aanduiden;
she intimated by signs, zij gaf
door teskenen te kennen.
Intire, bv. geheel, gansch.
Intirely, bw. geheellijk.
to Intitle, entitle, b. w. regt ge=
ven, geregtigen.
Into, vz. in, op de vraag waar-
heen? in.
Intòlerable, bv. onverdragelijk.
Intolerably, bw. onverdragelijki
Intréaty, z. fmeking, bede; zie
Entreaty.
Intrlasick, bv. wezenlijk, inner-
lijk; the intrinsick value, dé
wezenlijke waarde.
J
to Intrust, b.w. toevertrouwen.
Inundation, z. de overftrooming.
to lovade, b. w. verheeren, ver»
woesten, aanpasion; the island
was invaded, het eiland werd
aangevallen.
Invaluable, bv. onschatbaar.
| to Invèng, b. w. uitvinden.
Inventer, inventor, z. de
|
vinder.
:
Invèation, z. de uitvinding.
Javentor, zio Inventer.
Inventary, z. lijst, inventaris.
Investigation, z. onderzoek.
Invisible, bv. ozzigtbaar.
Invitation, z. uitnoodiging.
to Invite., b. w. uitnoodigen.
Inward, bv. inwendig.
Invòlve, b. w. inwikkelen; — in
dificulties, in mooijelijkheden
wikkelen.
J
1
Iron, z. ijzer; mv. de ketenen,
bocijen; to be put in irons, in
ketenen gesloten worden.
Iron bar, z. ceno ijzeren fang.
Irregular, bv. onregelmatig, ver=
ward.
Irresistible, bv. onwederftaan-
baar.
Irrèsolute, bv. besluiteloos.
Is, (do 3 perfoon, enkelvoud van
den tegenw. tijd van to Be,
zijn) is.
Island, z. het eiland.
Issue, z. het gevolg, einde, do
uitflag.
to Issue, o. w. ten gevolgen heb-
ben, uitloopen, aitylosijen ;
a burning matter issued, Bone
brandende foffe vloeide er uit.
It, (voornaamw.) het, hetzelve.
Itself, (voornaamw.) zelf, zich
zelven, impossible in itself, in
zich zelven onmogelijk.
to Introduce, b. w. invoeren op
eeno plaats, 2) in het gefprek | Ivory, z. het.ešponbicu, ivoor.
to pas brengen.
J.
JA
JU
Jack (eigen naam), Jakob.
Jacket, z. ean wambuis, buis.
Japanése, bv. japausch, Z. ean
japaneos.
Jaws, z. mv. de kinnebakken.
Jénny (eigen naam), Jansje.
to Judge, b. w. regten, oordeel
vellow, beflisfen, 2) beoordelen.
Judgement, z. het geregs, inzon
derheid het goddelijk geregt,
2) oordeel, overweging; a sound
judgement, een gezond cordsei.
Jewel, z. een juweel, edelge-Jug, Z. eene kan, kroeg, kruik;
fteente.
to
John (eig. naam), Johanneso
hoo Join, b. w. bijvoegen, 2) voru
binden, vereenigen, 3) o. w.
zich bij iemand begeven;
join his master, bij zijnen mees"
ter komen, 4) helpen; to
join in another's work, iemand
in zijn werk behulpzaam zijn.
Joiner, z. een timmerman, ſchrijn-|
werker.
Jóking, z. de fcherts; there would
have been no joking, het zoude
geene feherts geweest zijn.
Journey, z. de reis, dagreis, 2)
eone reis te land, (voyage is
cene reis ter zee).
Joy, z. vreugde.
Joyful, bv. verblijd, vrolijk.
Joyfully, bw. verblijd, vrolijk.
Judge, z. de regter.
|
an earthen jug, een aarden kan.
Juggler, z. een goochelaar, be
drieger.
Juice, z. het fap van planten.
Juicy, bv. Sappig.
to Jump, o. w. Springen, hup.
pelen.
Jump, z. de fprong.
Just, bv. juist, 2)regtvaardig.
Just, bw. juist, even als; just
now, 200 even.
Justice, z. de regtvaardigheids
to do justice, geregtigheid la-
ten wedervares, 2
2) het geregt,
de justitie.
Justly, bw.regtvaardiglijk; thou
dealest justly with me, gij han.
delt regtyaardig met mij.
to Jat, o. w. uitſteken ; a stone
jutting out, een vooruitstekende
fleen.
KE
KE
volharden; to keep at a place,
op eens plaats blijven ftaan ;
it would keep good, het zoude
goed blijven; to keep close to
a thing, zich bij uitfluiting met
iers bezig houden.
Kéeping, z. de bewaring.
Kèpt, o. t. en dw. van to Keep.
Kernel, z. de kern van vruchten,
RO Kdep, b. w. houden; to keep
pace, den pas houden, 2) ber
houden, onderhouden; to keep
a fire, een vuur onderhouden;
to keep from, onthouden, be-
holden; to keep up, ophouden;
onderhouden, in ftand houden;
to keep near the shore, langs
hot frand houden; to keep to
a resolution, bij een befluit | Key, z, fleutel; f. this is the key
Of
ΚΙ
409
KR
of that conduct, dit is de ver- ¡ Kitchen, z. de keuken.
klaring van dat gedrag.
to Kick, b. w.met den voet fchop-
pen.
Kick, z. een schop met den voet.
Kid, z. een jong geitje.
to Kill, b. w. dooden, vermoor"
-
den, ombrengen, 2) flagten.
Kila z een oven; a lime-kiln,
sen kalkoven.
Kind, z. het geflacht; mankind,
het menfchelijk geflacht, £)
de aard, feors; a kind of fruit,
eenc foort van vracht, 3) de
aard en de wijze; in that kind,
op die wijze.
Kind, bv. vriendelijk, goedaardig.
to Kindle, b. w. aanfteken, aan-
branden.
Kindly, bw. vriendelijk; bv.
mild; a kindly beam, eens mil·
de ftraal.
Kindness, 2. vriendelijkheid,
goedheid.
King, z. de koning.
Kingdom, z. het koningrijk.
to Kiss, b. w. kusfen, zoenen.
Klas, z. een zoen, kus.
Knack, z. de behendigheid, hand-
greep; the right kuàck, de wa
re kunstgreep.
to Kréad, b. w. kneadem.
Kaée, z de knie; he fell on his
knees, kij viel op zijne knien.
to Kneel, o. W.
0. w. kuielen, meder.
knielen.
Knew, o. t. van to Kaow.
Knife, z. het mes.
Knob, z. de keel, bol.
to Knock, b. w. flaan, kloppen s
to knock down, nederflaan.
Knot, z, de knoop.
to Knów, o. w. es b. w. weten,
2) kennen.
Knowledge, z. kennis, kunde;
a great stock of knowledge, eer
groote voorraad van kennis,
kunde of wetenſchap, 2)··
tea without your parents' know-
ledge, buiten weten van awe
ouders.
Knówn, dw. vas to Know.
Knuckle, z. de kneakel.
Kracking, zie Cracking, het kroe
kev.
LA
LA
jongen! 2) een jongeling.
Laborious, bv. werkzaam, ar- Làd, z. de knaap; my lad, lisve
beidzaam.
Labóriousness, z. werkzaamheid. Ladder, z. de ladder, leer; a
Lábout, z. de arbeid.
to Labour, b. w. arbeiden, werken.
|
rope ladder, een touwladder,
Scheepsladder.
labourer, 2. een arbeider, dag- | Láden, dw. belades.
loonar.
Lace, z. de fnoer, het koord,
de valftrik.
Lády, Z. mevrOUW
vrouwi
Laid, dw. yan to Lay.
adelijke
to Láce, b. w.fnoereu, toefroeren. | Láin, dw, van to Lie, to lye.
Laced, bv. geboord; a laced hat, Lake, het meer, de kloine
een geboorde hood.
z.
Kee
LI
Lama,
410
LE
LA
Lama, z. het lama, fchaapkameel.
to Lamènt, b. w. beklagen, o.w.
klagen.
Lamentable, bv. beklagenswaard;
lamentable looks, voice, klage.
Jijk uitzigt, klagende ſtem.
Lamentably, bw. op eene klage.
lijke wijze.
Lamentation, z. klagt.
Lamp, z. de lamp.
to Lind, o. w. landen, aan land
gaan.
Landing, z. het landen, do lan-
ding.
Language, z. de taal; his own
language, zijne eigen taal.
0 Lànguish,
kwijnen.
•
w. fnachten,
Lanthorn, lantern, z. de laniaren.
Large, bv. groot, (ligchamelijk |
groot).
Last, bv. laatst ; last night, ver-
leden nacht, gister avond ; at
last, eindelijk.
Last, bw. verleden, voor korten
tijd, onlangs.
to Last, o. w. duren.
o. w. lagchen ; at, over,
om iets.
Laughter, (uitgefpr. als loafter),
z. het lagchen.
to Launch, b. w. van stapel las
ten loopen; to launch a vessel,
een ſchip
Law, z. de wet.
Lawful, by. wettig, regtmatig.
Lay, o. van to Lye.
to Lay, b. w. leggen; to lay hold.
de hand aanßaan, vetten, rij.
pen; to lay in provisions, voor™
raad inloggen.
Láy, z, een lied; a morning lay,
+
een morgonzang.
Layer, z. eene laag, rij; a brick-
layer, een metfelaar.
Laziness, z laiheid.
Lázy, bv. lui, troag.
to Lead, b. w. leiden; to lead a
spring, eene bron leiden.
Léader, z. een aanvoerer, leeraar.
Loaf, z. hes blad; he tremb ed
like an aspen leaf, hij beefde
als een riet, (eigenlijk als een
populierblad).
Lastly, bw. ten laatfte, lastfle | Léogue, z ecne zsemijl, eene mijl.
lijk, 2) onlangs.
Late, bv. voormalig, 2) laatst,
jongss; his late misfortunes, zij-
ne jongfte ongelukken.
Lite, bw. last, 2) onlangs, ook:
of late.
Lately, bv. laatst, onlangs; it
was but lately, het is nog niet
lang geleden.
Làth, z. de lat.
!
i
Léak, z. het lok, de fcheur; the
ship had sprung a leak, het
Schip had een lek gekregen.
to Léan, o. w. leunen; to lean
one's back, met don rug leu-
nen, 2) zich onderſteunen.
to Leap, o. w. huppelen, ſpringen.
Léap, z. de fprong.
to Learn, b. en o w. leeren, 2)
vernemen, ervaren, zien.
Latin, z. het latijn, de latijn-Learning, z. het leeren; diligent
fche taal; bv. latijnsch; the in learning, leerzaam, 2) de ge-
latin tongue, de latijnfche taal. leerdheid; be applied colearning,
Latter, bv. vergelijkende trap
hij wilde geleerd worden, hij
van late, later.
legde zich toe op wetenſchappes.
Làva, z. da lava.
Least, (overtr. trap van little),
Laudable, by. loffelijk,
het, de kleinfte, 2) ket gering-
to Làugh, (uitgeſpr. als laaf),
ste,
LE
4TB
LI
fe, het minfe; the least noise,
het minste geraas.
Léast, bw. ten minfte; at least.
Leather, z. het leer; a leathern
glove, een leeren handſchoen.
Léave, z. verlof, toeftemming,
2) het affcheid; to take leave,
affcheid nemen.
to Leave, b. w. laten, verla-
ook
ten, 2) ophouden,
leave off.
to
Lè't, dw. ex o. t. van to Leave.
Left, bv. linker; the left hand,
de linker hand,
Leg, z. het boen (van de heup
tot aan den voer),
Lègged, bv. two legged, twee-
beenig.
Légion, z. het legioen, eigenlijk
5000 man, elke groote troep
of bende.
Leisure, z. ledige tijd; in lei-
sure hours, in verlorene oogen-
blikken; 2) gemak; at his lei
sure, op zijn gemak.
Lèmon, z. de ftroen, de limoen.
Lèmonjuice, z. het fitreenfap.
Lèmontree, z. de fitroenboom.
to Lend, b. w.leenen, voorfchie-
rem; to lend money, geld voor-
fchieten; 2) to lend assistance,
hulp bieden.
Lèngth, z. de lengte at full length,
in de volle lengte, 2) duur ;
the months are not all of equal
length, de maanden zijn niet
allen even lang; 3) at length,
eindelijk, ten laatfte.
to Lèngthen, b. w. verlengen,
langer maken.
lènt, o. t. ɛn dw. van to Lend.
Lèss, (vergel. trap van little),
bv. Fleiner, minder.
to Lessen, b. w. verminderen,
kleiner maken; 2) 0. w. klei.
ser worden.
Lerson, z. de les; in your geo-
graphical lessons, in awe aarde
rijkskundige lesſen, 2) voo7-
fchrift, raad; he gave him
many good lessons into the bar.
gain, hij gaf hem daarenboven
verfcheidene goede lesfen.
Lèst, (voegw.) op dat niet; less
he fall, op dat hij niet valle,
uit vrees dat hij megt valles
to Lèt, b. w. laten; let us sit
down, leat ons gaan zitten;
let us have it all, laat het ons
geheel hebben, (in deze exi
foortgelijke ſpreekwijzen vorms
het de gebiedende wijs); 2) 108-
laten, torgiven; my parents:
will not let me go, mijne ow--
ders willen mij niet laten gaan.-
Lètter, z. brief
Lèituce, z. ſalade, latuw, latouw.
Lèvel, bv. vlak, effen, gelijk.
Lèvel, z. een waterpas „›(metſe-
laars werktuig).
to Lèvel, b. w. gelijk of effen
maken; 2) to level a cannon,
een kanon rigtem
•
•
Lèven, leaven, z. zuurdeeg.-
Lèver, z. den hefboom.
Lévity, z. ligtzinnigheid.
Liable, bv. blootgesteld, ondère·
worpen; liable to be spoiled,
aan bederving onderhevig, bas
dorven kunnen wordes..
Liar, z. een leugenaar.
Liberal; bv. the liberal arts,
vrije kunften.
..
Taberty, z. de vrijheid; to sets
at liberty, op vrije voeter flol-
len, vrij later; liberty of con
solence, vrijheid van het gam
weten.
Library, z. boekverzamelings-
to Lick, b. w. likken, lekk£9-
Lié, z. hes loog..
La 1.2.
.
412
LI
LI
to Lié, zie to Lye.
Life, z. het leves; for his life,
voor zijn leven, zoo lief als
hij het leven had; the life to
come, het toekomende leven.
Lifeless, bv. levenloos, dood.
to Lift, b. w. opheffen, verheffen.
Ligature, z. het verband, de band.
Light, bv. ligt, niet zwaar.
Eight, bv. licht, niet donker.
Light, z. het licht.
to Light, b. w.
b. w. aanfteken ;
fire, a candle.
to Lighten, b. w. verligten; in
order to lighten the ship, om
het fchip ligter te maken.
to Lighten, o. w. weerlichten,
bliksemen.
Lightning, z. de bliksem, het
wserlicht; a flash of lightning,
eene bliksemstraal.
Like, bv. gelijk, gelijkend; like
this Crusoe, gelijk dezen Cru-
foe like our Elbe, gelijk onze
Elbe; the like of which he had
never beard, waarvan hij nooit
de weergade gehoord had; and
the like, en dergelijken, 2)
hijn, met to Be cn to Have; he
was like, he had like to fall, hij
was bijna gevallen.
Like, bw. op gelijke wijze.
to Like, b. w. in iets behagen
vinden; I like too see it, ik
zoude het gaarne zien; Iden':
3ike this R, ik mag dien R.
ziet lijden; how do you like
the bath, hoe bevalt uket bad?
I should like, ik wenschte.
Likelihood, z. waarschijnlijk-
heid; in all likelihood, naar
alle waarschijnlijkheid.
Likely, bv. en ow.waarſchijnlijk.
Likewise, bw. insgelijks, op gen
lijke wijze.
Liking, z. de neiging, lust, zin;
he bad no liking to it, hij had
er geen zin in.
Limb, z. hes lid, (van een lig·
chaam).
Lime, z. de kalk; shaked lime,
gebluschte kalk.
Lime-kiln, z. een kalkoven.
Lime-stone, z. de kalksteen.
to Limit, b. w.
b. w. bepalen, beper.
ken; he limits grief, hij zet pa
len aan de droefheid.
Limitation, z. beperking, grenzen.
Limon, zie Lemon, en volzz.
Line, z. eene liju, regel, 2) con
koord of fnoer, 3) de linie, de
equator.
Linea, bv. van linnen, z. het
linnen; clean linen, fchoon lin
nengoed.
Linenweaver, z. een linnenwever.
Linseed, lueseed, z. koolzaad,
lijnzaad.
Lion, z. de leeuw.
Lip, z. de lip.
Liquor, & het vocht, gedisteleer
de drank, ſterke drank.
Lisbon, z. Lissabon, de hoofd-
fad van Portugal.
to Listen, o. w. luisteren, toe-
hooren.
Literally, bw. letterlijk.
Literary, bv. letterkundig, ge·
leerd.
Literary elements, z. mv. letter
kundige grondbeginselen.
Little, bv. klein; little folks, kin
deren, 2) weinig.
+
Little, bw. weinig; by little and
little, langzamerhand; be little
thought, hij was ver van te
denken.
to Live, o. w. lever, 2) wonen;
where Mr. Cl. lives, waar de
heer Cl. woons; 3) to live on,
•
vit.
LO
413
LO
van leven, zijn leven van on-
derhouden, zich voeden met ;
4) b. w. doorleven; he lived |
three whole years, one day like
the other.
Livelihood, livelyhood, z. het be-
faan, onderhoud; to get an ho
nest livelihood, zich een corlijk
beftaan verfchaffer.
Liveliness, z. levendigheid, vro-
lijkheid.
Lively, bv. en bw: levendig, op-
gewekt; imagination, eensvu”
rige verbeeldingskracht.
Lives, mv. van life, het leven.
Living, dw. van to Live; a living-
creature, een levendig fchepfel,
2) mv. de levenden.
•
Living, z. het leven, het levens"
onderhoud, beftaan.
Lo! (tusfchenw.) kijk!!
Load, z. de last, vracht.
to Lóad, b. w. laden, beladen;
-
2) - a gun, een geweer laden.
Loading, z. de lading; there was
ro ship in loading, er lag geen
fchip in lading.
Lladstone, z. de zeilfteen, mag-
nest.
Loaf, z. het (geheele) brood:
Loath, bv. afkeerig.
to Luath, b. w en o. w. walgen; |
afkeerig zijn; you loath, a
meat, gij walgt van een geregt.
Loathsome, bv. walgelijk, af
fchuwelijk.
Loaves, mv..van Loaf
Lock, z. een flot.
to Lock, b. w. fluiten; to lock
up, wegfluiten.
o Lodge, b. w. herbergen, huis-
vessen, 2) op eene plaats zijn;
where the heart is lodged, waar
het hart is..
Edging, z de woning, het ver-
an
blijf, 3) het nachtverblijf bie
first night's lodging.
Lofty, bv. hoog; a lofty mountain,
een hooge berg..
Logwood, z. het campechshout,
Brazilienhout; the logwood-
tree, de: boom van hetzelfde,
hout..
Loin, z. het lenden, of nierfiat
van een geflacht dier.
to Loiter, o. w. ledig loopen,-
flenteren; he was loitering about
the port, hij fenterde langs de
haven.
Lonesome
zonderd.
༡་
bvi senxaem, afge›
Long, bv. en bw. lang, uitges
firekt, 2) lang yan sijdy z
long while
een lange tijdg
long since, lang geleden.
to Long, o.we verlangen, raik-
halzen; I long, ie verläng
(mes for en after), he longed
for rest, hij verlangde naer
rust; he longed for new scenes,,
hij verlangde naar misuweta os
neeles.
Longing, z. het verlanger, hat
reikhalzen; bv; en dw. lon-
ging eyes, verlangende oogen^g»
Smachtende oogen.-
to Loók, o. w.kijken, (wan
het voorwerp nabij is, bezigs
man on eat, wanneer het af--
wezig is, for; en wanneer dise
verwijderd is, after; ih se beto
de laatfte beteekenisfen werde
het werkwoord gemeenlijk vor-
taald door: zesken; wĆ VRIE
looking for some pebbels, wij
zochten keifteentjes); 2) it looks
so fine, het zien er zao fissi
uit.
Look, (tusfchenw.) zić! kijkti-
genl.de gebied,wijs van to Look
L.1 S
Lookane
414
LU
L.O
Look, z. een blik, oogopslag ;;
mv. de gebaren.
Looking-glass, z. een spiegel.
Löòm, z. de woversfiocl.
duister zijn; thundercloudsthae-
lower, zwarte donderwalkan.
Luck, z. een teeval; good luck,
een gelukkig toeval.
Loose, z, de vrijheid; bva los, | Luckily, bw. gelukkig, bij geluk.
in vrijheid.
to Loosen, b. w. openen, losma,
ken, oplossen.
Lòrd, z. de opperheer, de keer.
to Lóse, b. w. verliezen.
*
Lost, ze het verlies; 2) to be at
á loss, verlegen ziju.
Lost, dw. en o. t. van to Lose.
Loid, bv. en bw. luid, ¡uid-
keels, overluid.
to Lour, zie to Lower.
to Love, b. w beminnen.
Love, z. liefde.
Loving, dw. liefderijks
Low, bv. en bw. laag, 2) on-
diep; low water, de ebbe, 3)
onderst; the lower part, hes on-
derfte gedeelte.
to Lower, lowr, lour, o. w.
Lucky, bv. gelukkig.
to Lull, o. en b. w. in ſlaapwie.
gen; who lalled my mind? wie
felde mijnen geest gerust ?·
Lump, z. en klomp ; lump of
gold, een goudklomp.
to Lurk, o. w. verborgen ligger
Iseren; to lurk in the dark, ie
het donker rondsluipen.
Lustre, zioen fchijn, eene fchs
mering.
ſche
Luxúriauce, luxuriancy, z. overv
vloed, overdaad.
Luxúriantly, bw, overdadig, o
vervloedig, weelderig.
Luxurious., bv. overdadig, zweł,
gend.
Luxury, Z. overdaad, weelde
z. 4.
zwolgarij.
to Ly, lie, o, w. liggen..
MA
Mad, bv. onzinnig, ziuneloos.
Máde, dw. en o. t. van to Make.
Madman, 2. een kraøkzinnige,
dolleman.
MA
Majesty, z. majesteit, de hoogfis-
waardigheid en magt, de titel
aan monarchen gegevon; his
majesty, Z. M.·
Magazine, z. een voorraadhuis, Máin, bv. ket voornaamfte, groot.
magazijn.
#
Magnànimous, bv. grootmoedig.
Magnètick, bv. the magnetick
needle, de magneetnaald.
Magnificent, bv. prachtig.
Máid, z. de meid; dairy maid,
melkmeid ; servant maid, dienst-
meid.
Majèstick, bv. majestueus..
fte; the main sea, de hooge zieg
z. the main, het vaste land,
ook the main land.
Main mast, z. de groote mast,
to Maintáin, b. w. onderhouden.
in ftand houden, handhaves.
Maize, 2. tarksch köorn.
to Make, b. w. maken; to make
haste, zich haasten, ſpoeden ş
to
MA
415.
MA
·
ent-
to make one's prayers, lidden;
to make a journey, cene reis
deen; to make an escape,
Snappen; to make all sails, atle
zeilen bijzetten; to make ship-
wreek, fchipbreak lijdon, 2)
in den zeevaart beteekent to
make, can cene plaats komen;
they made the mouth of the
Thames, zij bereikten den mond
van de Tooms; to make the
nearest land, het naaste land
bereiken; to make the shore,
het land naderen; 3) he made
him suffer, hij deed hem lij
den; 4) . w. to make up to
one, op iemand aangaan, hem
noderen; to make up to a ship,
een ſchip naderen; ook to make
towards a ship.
-
Making, z. het maken, maakſel´;
an umbrella of his own making,
een regenfcherm van ziju ei-
gen maakſel:
Mauner, z. de wijze, manier ; iBa
the same manner, op dezelfde wij
ze in such a manner, zoodanig.
Many, bv. vele.
--
:
z. een aantal; a great
Mauy, z. cen aantal;
many of them, velen hunner,
een groot aantal van hun.
Many times, bw. dikwijls.
Map, z. de landkaart
zeekaart, beteekent ook seaman..
March, 2. de marsch, de togt,
optogr.
>
zeekaares
to March, to march off, o. W. marå.
fcheren, aftrekken.
Mariner, z. zeeman, matroos.
to Mark, b. w. merken, tocke»
ren, aanteekenens.
Mark, z. con tecken.
Macket, z. le markt.
Marmotto, marmot, z. het mor
meldier.
Martial, bv. krijgszuchtig; mar→
tial exercises, krijgsoefeninges.
Marvellous, bv. wonderbaar.
Mash, mesh, z de malio.
Mask, z het mom, masker.
Mass, z. de massa; to stir the-
mass,
de massa omroeren.
Malicious, bv. boosaardig
Mallet, z. een groo c zware hamer.
Mas, z. de mensch, 2) een man,
3) een schip; a merchant man,
een koopvaarder, koopvaardija Mist, z. de mastboom, de mast.
Schip; a man of war, een oor.
logfchip.
to Manage, b. w. vooren, beftu-
ren; to manage a boat, eene
boot befaren.
Management, z. de bewerking ;
the management of the fields, de
akkerbouw.
Man eater. z. een menscheneter.
to Mangle, b. w. verfcheuren,
verminker.
Manifold, bv, menigvældig.
Mankind, z. het menschdom.
Manly, bv. mannelijk, Berk; a
manly resolution, een vast be
flair; he behaved manly, hijge.
droeg zich braaf.
|
Master,
z. de heer; her master
and mistress, haar heer en vrouw,
2) de meester, 3) de kapitein
van een schip.
to Master, b. w. zich (van esne
zaak) meester maken, 2) b6.
heerfchen:
Mat, z. cene mat; a bass mat,
eene bast wat.
na
March', z
Màtch, z een zwavelſtok, 2) cε=
no lont he clapt the burning
match to the touchhole, hij
bragt de brandende lont sar
het zondgat, 3) de pit vaBILI
ne lamp.
Match, z. een wedſtrijdę
L14
416
ME
ME
to Mátch, b. w. geliik zijn; to
match one in swimming, even
200 goed zwemmen
als een
ander.
Máce, z. de ftaurman; the first
mate, de eorfe faurman:
Blatérial, bv. wezenlijk.
Materials, z. mv. bouwflofen, bes
noodigdheden; materials for wri-
ting, fchrijfgereedſchap.
Mátrass, mattrasa, z. eene matras.
Matter, z. de feffe; the melted
matter, de gefoltene Aoffe,
2) het voorwerp; on this matter,
over dit onderwerp; what's the
matter, wat is het? he made it
a matter of conscience, hij maak-
to er ecke gewetenszaak van ;
it is no matter of doubt, het lijät
goen twijfel; what was the mat-
ter with him? wat hem ſchorties
Matúrely, bw. rijpelijk, matúre,
ly considered, rijpelijk over-
woges
[
Màxim, z. eene grondfelling.
Máy, I may, (onvoll, werkw.) ik
words aangemerkt; by this
means, by that means, door dit
dat middel; by means of, door
middel van; by all means, 01
getwijfeld; by no means,
het geheel niet.
in
to Aléan, b. w. denken, meenen;
what do you mean? wat meent
gij? 2) bedoelen, meenen.
Méaning, z. de meening, botes..
kenis; what is the meaning of
that, wat betekent dat? 2)
het voornemen, de gezindheid.
Measure, z. de maat
dė maat; in some
measure, eenigermate, 2) mv.
maatregelen ; to take measures,
maatregelen nemen.
Méat, z. vleesch (voor pijs),
roast meat, gebraad, 2) Spijs
in het algemeen.
Mechanick, bv. werktuigelijk,
2) Z. een handwerker, am-
bachtsman.
•
Mèdicine, z. geneesmiddel; by
proper medicines, door gepaste
middelen.
mag, 2) ik kan, met opzigt | Medication, z: overdenking.
eenigen voorafgegevenen
fot
เ
raad of wensch, de vrijheid
en magt om iets te doen, you
may begin, gij kuns beginnen;
you may easily think, gij kunt
ligt begrijpen, may be, "t kan
zijn, misſchien, 3) als hulp.
werkw.om de bijvoeg. wijze se
yormen: it was probable there
might be more good children,
waarschijnlijk kondan er meer
goede kinderen zijn, 4) om co•
nen wensch te uiten.
+
Me, (perfoonl. voornaamw.)`mijï
Méal, z. het maal, de maaltijd.
Méan, bv. laag, gemeen,
Méan, z. het middel, meest in
Meekness, z. de zachtmoedigheid..
to Meet, b. w. ontmoeten; to
meet one, iemand, 2) 0. w..
met with, aantreffen; he met
with one of his comrades, hij
vond een” zijner kameraden; to
meet an adventure, een avis-
aur bojegonen.
Meeting, z de verzameling, ver
gadering, bijeenkomst.
Melancholy, bv. treurig, dros-
vig, zwaarmoedig.
to Mélt, b. w.
b. w. ſmelien; melted
matter, gesmoltene masfa.
Member, z. het lid, 2) medelids
Mémorable, bv. denkwaardig ».
merkwaardig.
het meerv. herwelk als enkelv. 1. Memórial, z, een gedenktooken.
Me~
MI-
4:7
ΜΙ
Memory, z. het geheugen, 2) de
gedachtenis.
Men, mv. van Man.
་
to Mend, b. w. verbeteren, ber
fer maken, 2) onz. w. beter
worden.
Mèntal, bv. verftandelijk; mental
faculties > vermogens.
to Mèntion, b. w. melden, gewa-
gen; above-mentioned, Boven-
gemeld.
Mèrchant, z. cen koopman.
Mèrchan.man, z. een koopvaardij-
Schip.
Mèrciful, bv. barmhartig, ge-
nadig.
Mercy, z. genade, ontferming;
heaven, have mency upon us
hemel, ontferm u onzer!
Mere, bv. enkel, louter; mere
goodness, niets dan goedheid,
louter genade.
Mérely, bw. enkel, alleenlijk,
flechts.
Mèrit, z. verdienfte.
to Merit, b. w. verdienen.
Mertićrious, bv. verdienfelijk.
Mèrry, bv. vrolijk, luidrychtig,
opgeruimd, 2) grappig..
Mèssenger, z. cen bode.
Met, o. t. en dw van to Meet.
Métal, z. metaal, bergstof,
delfftof.
Method, z. de leerwijze, maniër,
orde, inrigting.
Mèxican, by Mexikaansch.
Middle, bv. en bw. middenst, in
het midden zijnde, midden.
Middle, z. het midden, het mid-
delfe gedeelte.
Midnight, z. de middernacht.
Midst, z. het midden ; in the midst
of, te midden van.
Might, o. t. van to May,
Might, z. de magt, kracht; with
all might, uit alle magt.
Mighty, bv. magtig, ferk.
Mid, bv. mild, liefderijk, 2)
zachtmoedig; with a mild voice,.
mcreene zachte, liefelijke ftem.
Mildly, bw. zachtmoediglijk.
Mildness, z. zachtmoedigheid.
Military, bv. foldaats, oorlogs,
krijgs; the military life, het
foldaten leven, de foldaten-
fand.
Milk, z. de melk.
to Milk, b. w. melken.
-
Mill, z. de molen; the windmill',
de windmolen; a haudmill, een
handmolen.
Miller, z. de molenaar; the mil-
ler's boy, de knecht van den ~.
Million, z. eene milioen, 2) een
groot getal.
Mind, z. het gemoed, a) de noi-
ging, last, zing, to have. a.
mind, last hebben; it went en-
tirely to his mind, alles ging
naar zijnen zin,2) herinnering;
to put in mind, te binnen bren
gen, 4) de ziel, 5) de gedach-
voorfelling; in his own
mind, bij zich zelven, in zij-
ne gedachte..
te -
to Mlad, b. w. acht geven op
acht ſaan op; to mind one's
way, op zijnen weg letten;
mind: me!. hoor naar mij! 2)
zich om iets bekommeren; to
mind only one's own pleasures,
Aechts op zijn eigen vermaok
bedacht zijn; never mind! het
is niet met al! daar is niet aan-
gelegen! zorg daar niet voor!
Mindful, by. gedachtig, 2) op-
merkzaam.
Mine, (voornaamw. van bezitting),
hi 15
het.
418
MO
MO
het, de mijne; this head of
mine, mijn hoofd.
Mine, z. eene mijn, groef.
Miner, z. een mijnwerker, borg.
werker.
Miniature, z. in miniature, in
het klein.
►
Minister, Z. a of state,
Staatsdienaar.
Minute, z. de minuut.
een
Minútely bw. naauwkeurig,
naauwgezet.
Miracle, z. wonderwerk.
Miraculous, bv. wonderbear, won-
derdadig.
Miraculously, bw. wonderbaarlijk.
Mirth, z vreugde, vrolijkheid,
blijdschap.
Miscarriage, z. misflag, mislukking
Mischief, z. een ongelak, 2)ſcha-
de, nadeel, kwaad.
Miserable, bv. ongelukkig, el
lendig.
Miserably, bw. ongelukkiglijk,
jammerlijk.
Misery, z. de ellende.
Misfortune, Zz het ongeluk..
so Miss, b. w. ontberen mis-
fen, vermifen; he missed the
salt, hij miste hot zout, a) niet
treffen, misfon; be missed the
mark, hij misie het doel.
Mist, z. de novot.
to Mistake, b. w. het eene voor
het andere aanzien, mistas
ten; be mistook it for, hij zag
het aan voor 2) o. w. dwa
len, zich vergisfen; ook co be
mistaken, mis hebben.
Mistake, z. ecme mistasting, ver-
gisling.
Mistlok, o. t. van to Mistake.
Mistress, z. de meestres.
to Mix, b. w. vermengen.
Moderate, bv. gematigd, 2).b6-
fcheiden...
|
to Moderate, b. w. matigen; to
zijne
moderate one's grief,
droefheid matigen.
Moderately, bw. matiglijk.
Modest, bv. nederig, zodig, be-
Scheiden.
Modesty, z. befcheidenheid, 2)
zedigheid, fchaamte; one of
our R's. principal virtues was
modesty, een der hoofddeugden
van onzen R. was de zedigheid.
Moisture, z. vochtigheid.
to Molèst, b. w. kwellen, leed
aandoen, ontrusten, lastig
vallen.
Moment, z. het oogenblik.
Monarch, z. de vorst, monarch.
Mòney, z. gomunt geld; english
money, engelfche munt.
Monkey, monky, z. een aap.
Monster, Z. een gedrogt.
Monstrous, bv. gedrogtolijk, vrees.
felijk the same mecstrous wave,
dezelfde fchrikkelijke golf.
Mouth, z. de maand.
Monthly, bv. maandelijkṣck, bw.
maandelijks..
•
Monument, z. het gedenkreeken.
Mood, z. de gemoedsflemming,
Inim.
1
Muda, z. de man.
Moral, by zedelijk.
Morality, z. zedelijkheid, a) des
zodekundi.
Móre, (vergel. trap van Much),.
meer; more time, longer.
Móre, bw. mert; (iot vorming
yan den overtr. trap van fome.
mize bv.) more sensible, gevalo.
liger; 2) six guineas more, nog:
6 guineas.
More over, bw. daarenboven.
Mornin?, 2. de morgen, 110 Pa
penflood; the morninglight, het
sorgenlicht.
Mor-
MO
419
:
MU
Morrow, z. de dag van morgen; !
bw. to-morrow, morgen; to
morrow morning, morgen ochtend
Morsel, z. eene bete, een mond vol.
Mortal, bv. ferfelijk, 2) doodelijk
Mortally, bw. doodelijk; mortal-
ly wounded, doodelijk gewond.
Mortar, z. de mesfelkalk.
Moschito, moschetto, z. eene foort
van kwaadaardige muggen in
Amerika, muskiet.
Most, bv. (overtreff. tr. van Much)
meest,de, het moesto; the most
part, het meerendeel, als bv.
most of them, de meesten hun-
ner; most of his time, zijn
meeste tijd.
Móst, bw. in eenen hoogen graad,
zeer; most excellent, zeer voer.
treffelijk, (voor eenige be, om
den overtreff. trap aan te dui-
den; most dreadful, allerfchrik-
kelijkst).
Mother, z. de moeder.
Mótion, z. de haweging.
Motionless, bv. bewegingloos.
Motive, z. de beweegoorzaak.
Motto, z. de leuze, Spreuk, het
motto.
to Move, bw. bewegen, in bowe-
ging brengen, 2) aandoen, ont-
reeren, 3) o. w. in beweging
zijn, zich bewegen; we move
alone in thee, door u alleen le-
ven wij.
Móving, dw a moving sight, een
treffend fchouwspel.
Méult, z. de fijne aarde, 2) de
puin; he
he soon got out the
mould, hij had het puin wel-
hasst er nitgewerkt.
to Mount,
o. w. opklimmen,
klimmen, fijgen, zich verkef
fen; 2) b. w. beklimmen ; to
mount a hill, eenen berg be
klimmen.
Mountain. z. een berg.
Mountainous, bv. bergachtig ;
mountainous countries, bergache
sige landftreken.
to Moura, 0. W. treuren
droefd zijn.
be™
Moúroful, bv. treurig.
Mourafally, bw. treurig, droevig
Mouth, z. de mond, de muil,
(van menfchen en dieren), ±)
de mond eener rivier, the mouth
of the Thames, de mond van de
Teems.
Mouthful, z. een mondvol.
Mùch, bv. veel; with much alo,
met veel moeite; 2) bw. veel;
in so much, voor zoo veel, voor
Zoo verre.
Mùd, z. fik, modder.
Mulberry,
Mulberry, z. moerbezie; paper.
mulberrytree, de papiermoerbe.
zienboom;(morus papirifere Lin).
to Mltiply, b. w. vermeerderen;
o. w. zich vermeerderen.
Maltitude, 2. menigte, 2) de
groote hoop, 3) het gemeen.
Murder, z. de moord.
to Murder, b. w. moorden, ver-
moorden.
Murmur, z. het gemurmel, gemor.
to Murmur, o. w. morreu, 1887-
melen, (met at voor eene zaak,
en against voor eenen perfoon).
Muscle, z. sene mosſel; a muscle
shell, cene mosfelſchelp.
to Múse, o. w. over iets naden-
kon, in diepe gedachten zijn.
Músing corner, z. de peinshoek.
Músick, z. de toonkunst, muxijk.
Musket, z. een fnaphaan; a muɛ-
ket ball, een geweerkogel.
Muslin, z, het neteldoek.
Must,
420
MY
MU
Must, Convolledig werkw. en al.
tijd onveranderl.) moeten.
Matineer, z. sen oproermaker,
muiter.
Mutiny, z. het oproer, de muiterij.
to Mutiny, b. w. muiten.
Mutual, bv. wederzijdsch; mutual
affection, wederzijdsche liefde.
Mùrz'e, zo de mond van een fluk
gefchut.
My, (bezitt. voorn. aingefp. als
mi, dech, most bijzonderen ☎a.
drak, als mai), mijn, mijne.
Myself, (voornaamw.) ik zelf,
mij zelven.
NE
Nail, z. nagel, fpijker.
to Ndil, b. w. ſpijkeren.
Naked, bv. naakt, onbekleed.
Nine, z. de naam; what in the
name of wonder, wat toch, in
s hemels naam.
to Náme, b. w. noemen.
Nameless, bv. naamloos.
Nanny, (eigen naam), Antje.
Narration, z. verhaal, vertelfel.
Narrow, bv. naauw, eng; a nar
row passage, een naauwe door-
togt.
Narrowly, bw. naauwelijks, 687
naauwer nood.
>
Nation, z. het volk, de natie.
Native, bv. his native climate
zijn geboorteland
Native, z. een inboorling.
Natural, bv. natuurlijk; a natural
way of living, eene met de na-
tuur overeenkomftige levens-
·wijze : 2) natural philoso-
phy, de natuurkunde; natural
history, de natuurlijke gefchie-
denis.
Naturally, bw. natuurlijker wijze.
Náture, z. de natuur, 2) de ei-
genaardige gefteldheid, aard.
Natured, bv. geaard; good na
tured, goedaardig.
Navigable, bv. beenarbaar.
NE
Navigation, z. de Scheepvaart g
vaars.
Navigator, z. de zeevaarder, zse-
man.
Nay, bw. neen; 2) als voegw.
zelfs, ja; uay, when he had
been diligent in learning, ja,
wanneer hij vlijtig had wil-
len leren.
Néar, vz. ra; bw. nabij.
Near, bv. na, digt bij, nabij;
the nearest way, de naiste weg;
c) 'bw. bijna near as good,
bijna zoo goed; not
near so
great, op verre na zoo groot
niet.
Nearly, bw. bij, ten naaste bij,
ongeyser.
Néat, bv. zindelijk, fraai, mooi,
not.
Necessaries, z. mv. benodigdheden
Nècessary, bv. noodzakelijk.
Necèssity, z. noodzakelijkheid,
2) behoefte, gebrok.
Nèck, z. de hals, de nek; 2) a
neck of land, eene landtong,
landengte,
ÿ
Néed, z. de nood; without need,
onnoodiglijk to be in need of
a thing, iets noodig hebben
ook to have need, to stand in
great need of a thing.
ΝΙ
421
ΝΟ
to Nedd, b. w. behoeven, noodig
hebben, o. w. reden hebben,
oorzaak hebben tot iets; be
needed not, hij had geene re-
den om (fomtijds met, ſom-
tijds zonder to),
Needful, bv. noodzakelijk.
Needle, z. de naald; the magne-
tick needle, de magneetnaald.
Needless, bv. noodeloos, onnoodig.
Needs, bw. noodzakelijk, nood-
zakelijker wijze.
to Neglect, b. w. verzuimen, ver-
onachzamen.
Négroe, z. een neger.
Neighbouring, bv. naburig.
Néither, (voegw.) noch, 2) ook,
miet; I neither, ik ook niet.
Neither, (voornaam.) geen, nie-
mand.
Nèst, z. cen nest.
Nèt, z. een net.
Nètting, z. als een net gewerkt.
Neumaker, z. een nettenbreider.
Netneedle, z. een netbreinaald.
Nèver, bv. nooit, nimmer; never
one, geen enkel maal.
Nevertheless, bv. niettemin.
New, bv. nieuw.
-
New Foundland, z. Terreneuve,
Newfoundland.
Newly, bw. onlangs, federt kor-
ten tijd.
Nineteenth, bv. negentiende.
Ninth, bv. negende.
No, bw. neen, 2) niet; no morej
no longer, wiet meer niet
langer.
"
No, bv. geen; no body, geen
mensch, niemand; by no means,
in geenerlei wijze.
Noble, bv. verheven, adel; it
looks so noble, het ftaat zeo
ſchoon, zoo edel.
to Nod, o.
knikken.
w. met het hoof
Noise, z. het geraas
Nòne, bv. geen; it is none of my
faults, het is niet onder mijne
gebreken, geen mijner gebre-
ken, (het is mijne ſchuld niet).
Nonsense, z. onzin, wartaal
one thinks of nothing but non
sense, men denkt aan niets dan
gekheid.
Noón, z. de middag; forenoon,
voormiddag; afternoon, achter-
middag; 2) bv. middag, the
noon sun, de middagzon; noon)
day, de middag.
Nor, (voegw) noch.
North, z. het noorden, e) noord-
noordelijk, moord;
waarts
the northsea, de moordzee.
Nose, z. de neas.
Not, bw. niet.
News, z. mv. nieuws, nieuwstij. Notch, z. de kerf, infuedo.
ding, 2) narigt.
Next, bv. naast, daaropvolgend;
the next day, den volgenden dag.
Nice, bv. uitgezocht, lekker; a
nice piece, een fijn flukje, 2)
lekker, moeijelijk te bevredigen
Night, z. de nacht, de avond;
Nothing, bw. niets; to be good
for nothing, tot niets deugenz
it is nothing to me, hat reakt
mij niet.
Notice, z. bemerking, acht; to
take notice of a thing, op iess
acht geven, op iets letten.
at nightfall, bij het aanbreken | Notion, z. de inval, het denk
van den dag.
Nimble, bv. vlug, røp,
Mine, bv. negen.
1
besl8.
Notwithstanding, (veegw.) niesa
tegenstaande.
MM
Now
*
422
NU
NO
Novice, z. een nieuweling, leer
ling.
go Nourish, b. w. voeden; the all
mourishing hand of Providence,
de alvoedende hand der Voor-
zienigheid.
Nourishment, z. hos voedsel, de
levensmiddelen..
Now, bw. nu, thans ; a) now
and then, wu en dan, van tijd |
tor tijd; now a days, hedendaags.
Nowhere, bw. nergens.
Nówise, bw. in geenerlei wijze:
Noxious, bv. fchadelijk.
Numbed, (zie Benumbed) dw. yan
to numb, verftijven.
Number, z. het getal, 2) ket aan-
tal, de menigte; in number,
geral.
Numberless, bv. talrijk.
Numerous, bv. talrijk.
Nut, z. de noot; cocoanut, kom
kosmoot, hazelnut, hazelnoot.
O B
oh! (tusfchenw.) o!
O', in plaats van of.
Oaken, bv. eiken, van eiken hout;
oaken bark, eiken fchors.
Oár, z. de riem.
ath, z. de ecd.
Obédience, z. de gehoorzaamheid.
Obédient, bv. gehoorzaam.
Obediently, bw. met gehoorzaam-
heid.
to Obey, bw. gehoorzamen..
to Object, o. w. tegenwerpingen
OC
to Obidin, b. w. verkrijgen, be-
komen.
Obvious, bv. klaarblijkelijk, oo-
genſchijnlijk; for two obvious
reasons, wegens twee klaro re-
denen.
Occasion, z. gelegenheid; on this
oc.asion, bij deze ; 2) to have
occasion for, noodig hebben,
behoeven.
to Occasion, b. w. veroorzaken,
se weeg brengen.
maken, tegenspreken.(against,to) | Occasionally, bw. gelegenlijk, toe-
Objèction, z. tegenwerping.
Obligation, z. de verpligting.
to Oblige, b. w. verpligten, 2)
iemand dienst doen; 3) to be
obliged, genoodzaakt zijn.
Obscure, bv. donker, duister.
to Obscure, b. w. verdonkeren.
Observation, z. de waarneming,
in achtneming, 2) de bemer-
king, aanmerking.
to Observe, b. w. waarnemen,
bamerken, beſchouwen.
Observer, z. een waarnemer.
Obsolete, by, verouderd.
Obstacle, z. sene hindergaal.
valliger wijze, bij gelegenheid.
Occupation, z. bezigheid.
to Occùr, b. w. bejegenen, 2)0.
w. zich opdoen, voorkomen,
zich toedragen; there occurred
so manyoccupations, er kwamen
zoo vele bezigheden op, 3) in
het geheugen komen, te binnen
Schieten; a new thought occar.
red to him, hij kwam op eene
nieuwe gedachte.
Ocean, z. de oceaan, de wereld.
zee; the Atlantick ocean, de at
lantische zee.
Odd, bv, zonderling, rear, won-
derg
Ο Μ
423
ON
derlijk; that's very odd, dat is
heel raar; odd gestures, malle
gebaarden; 2) odd, oneven,
overblijvende; some odd minu-
eenige overblijvende mi-
tes,
nsten.
Odour, z. de reak.
Of,vz.(het teeken van den tweeden
naamv. of genitiv.), the ties of na-
ture, de banden der natuur,
2) van; of it, daarvan, van
hetzelve, 3) uit; consisting of
young folks, beftaande uit jon-
ge lieder; 4) of late, onlangs.
Off, bw. weg, ver van, words
achter verfcheidene workwoor-
den geplaatst, to come well off,
er wel van afkomen; 2) off,
in de taal der ſchippers, op de
hoogte; they arrived off Ritze-
buttel, zij kwamen op de hoog-
te van Rirzebattel.
to Offènd, b. w. Seleedigen.
Offèuded, dw. en bw. beleedigd;
his offended parents, zijne gom
krenkte ouders.
Offènce, offènse, z. de boloediging.
to Offer b. w. aanbieden; to of
fer one's prayers to God, zijn
gebad tot God opzenden, 2)
zich onderftaan; to offer to
make resistance, het wagen we-
derftand te biedėn.
Office, z. het ambt.
Officer, z, een beambte, officier;
officer of justice, een geregis-
dienaar.
Offspring, z. cen nakomeling, de
nakomelingfchap.
Often, bw. dikwijls.
Oh! zie O.
Oil, z. de olie.
Oilet, z. een rijggaatje.
Ord, bv. oud.
1
to Òmit, bw. uitlaten, weglaten.
Omniposent, bv. almagtig.
Omnipresent, bv. alomtegenwoIra
dig.
Omniscient, bv. alwetend.
On, vz. op aan, (van tijd); off
a fine summer's evening, op een
Schoonen zomeravond, (van
plaats); on board, aan boord;
on the grass plot, op de groene
plek; on deck, op het verdek;
on his way, op zijnen weg; he
fell on his knees, hij viel op
zijne knien; 6) on fire, in den
brand; 1) on't, on it, daar-
van, daaraan; 8) on a sudden,
censklaps; on purpose, mood-
willig.
On, bw. verder; and so on, en
zeo voorts, 2) voort; to go on,
voortgaan. voortvaren; tổ
work on, voortarbeiden, 3)
aan; he put his clothes on, hij
deed zijne kleederen aan.
Once, (uisgefpr. als wonce), bw.
eens, eenmaals there was once,
er was eens, 2) flechts eens,3)
to gelijker tijd; at once, og
eenmaal, 4) cartijās.
One, (uitgefpr. als wone), by.
één; every one, elk een,ieder
een, 2) als telwoord; is one of
them, is een daarvan, 3) is
betrekking op eenig voorafgaand
naamwoord, in welk geval het
in het hollandsch niet vertaald
wordt; the only surviving one,
de eenige in het leven gebie-
yene; a young one, een jong
4) als cone onbepaalde perfoon
of zaak; when one has nothing
to do, wanneer iemand (men)
niets te doen heeft; one time
or other, vroeg of laat.
Only, bv. enkel, cenig; their
only child, han eenig kind; 2)
Moms
bu.
x
424
O V
OR
bw. enkel, alleenlijk. flechts;
there only remained, er bleef
flechts over.
On't, On it, zie On.
to Open, b. w. openen.
Open, bv. open, 2) onbegrensd,
vol, vrij; now they entered
into the open sea, nu kwamen
zij in de volle zee; the open
air, de vrije lucht.
pening, z. de opening.
Operátion, z. de onderneming:
Opinion, z. de meening.
Opportunity, z. de geſchikte ge-
legenheid.
Opposite, vz. tegen over; oppo-
site to each other, tegen over
elkander.
Opposite, bv. tegen over gelegen;
the opposite shore, de tegeno
verliggende kust, de overzijde.
Opprèss, b. w. onderdrukken;
his oppressed breast, zijne bea.
klemde borst; oppressed with
|
Ordinarily, bv. gewoonlijk, op de
gewone wijze.
Ore, (oar), z. erts.
Original, bv. oorspronkelijk ; ori-
ginal history, oorspronkelijke
gefchiedenis.
Originally, bw. oorspronkelijke.
Origin, z. de oorsprong.
Otaheite, z. het eiland Otaheite
in de Zuidzee.
Other, bv. ander.
Otherwise, bw. anders, 2) op se-
ne andere wijze.
Oven, z. een oven.
Over, vz. over.
Over, bw. over,
overheen; a
trip over to England, een uit-
Stapje naar Engeland; over
against, tegenover, 2) over,
voorbij, uit, gedaan; it is
over, het is gedaan, 3) voor
een werkwoord beteekent het
in eenen hoogen graad, zie de
onderstaande werkwoorden.
grief, overfelpt van droefheid; | Over-affècted, bv. gemaakt, over..
oppressing, drukkend.
dreven..
in 288.
Oppression, z. de onderdrukking, Over board, bw, over boord,
2) neerslagtigheid.
Option, z. de keuze, het goed-
het goed-
vinden.
Or, (voegw.) of.
Orchard, z. de boomgaard..
to Ordain, b. w. fchikken, be
fluiten.
Order, z. de orde, 2) het bevel;
3) in order to om te met
voornemen om.
to Order, b. w. inrigten, ver-
ordenon, 2) bevelen, gebieden.
Orderly, bv. regelmatig, orde.
lijk, bw. regelmatiglijk, or-.
delijk.
Ordinary, bv. (gemeenlijk uitge-
Sproken als Ordneri), bv. rom
gelmatig, a)gewoon, gewoonlijk
to Overcharge, b. w. overladen.
to Overcome, b. w. te boven ko..
mess, overwinnen; to overcome
all difficulties, alle moeijelijk
heden te boven komen.
to Overflow, o. w. overvloeijen,
overftroomen.
to Overgrów, b. w. bewassen, be-
groeijen; the ground was so
overgrown with grass, de grond
was met zoo veelgras bewassen.
to Overheát, b. w. verhitten, to
veel verhitten.
to Overload, b. w. overladen.
to Overlook, b. w. ove zien, over-
het hoofd zien, 2) doorzien,
nazien.
to.
ου
425
OY
|
to Overpower, b. w. overwel Outery, z. een gefchreeuw, ge-
digen.
roep.
to Oversée, b. w. over het hoofd to Outrùn, b. w. in het leopen
zien.
to Overset, o. w. omvallen, om-
forten; the boat overset, de
boot floeg om; 2) b. w, omwerpen.
to Overspread, b. w. overfrooi-
jen, overspreiden, bedøkken;
the sea was all overspread with
darkness, de ze was met duis
ternis bedekt.
Overstrained, dw. overspannen ;
an overstrained style, een ge
dwongen fijl.
to Overtake, b. w. inhaler.
Overtook, o. t. van to Overtake.
to Overthro, b. w. omwerpen,
omkeeren.
to Overwhelm, b. w. overftelpen;
overwhelmed with grief, van
droefheid overftelpt.
Ought, Convolledig werkw.) be-
hooren, moeten, betamen, ver-
fchuldigd zijn.-
Our, (bezittel. vocra.) ons, onze.
Ourselves, (voorn) wij zelven,
ons zelven.
Odt, bw. uit; he cried out, hij
riep uit; he went out, hij ging.
uit; to keep the fire from going
out, het vuur aanhouden.
Oút, vz. (met of) out of doors,
buiten de deur.
|
|
overtreffen; one's pursuers,
zijne vervolgers overloopen.
Outside, z. de
Oúcside, z. de buitenzijde.
Outward, bv. buiten, uiterlijk;
the outward shell, de buiten-
Schaal.
to Outwear, b. w. afdragen, af-
fijten; his cloths were werd
out, zijne kleederen waren
verfleton.
to Owe, b. w. fchuldig zijn; the
money he owed him, her geld
dat hij hem fchuldig was, 2)
to danken hebben; to him they
owed the preservation of their
lives, zj waren hem het behoud
van hun leven verfchuldigd.
co Own, b. w. bekennen, erken.
11:11, 2) 0, W. toebehooren.
Own, bv. eigen; as their own
children, als hunne eigene kin-
ren; to have one's own will,
zijnen eigenen wil hebben; his
own country, zijn eigen land,
zijn vaderland.
7
Owner, z. de eigenaar,
Ox, z.. do 05.
Oyster, z. de oester.
Oysterbed, 2. een oesterbank.
Oystershell, z. een ossterfchelp.
PA
Pace, z. de trede, pas, ſtap.
Paced, by a thorough paced hus
bandman, een uitgeleerd land-
bouwer.
to Pacify, b. w. beyredigas.
|
PA
to Pack, b. w. pakken; to pack
up, inpakken.
Packthread, z. bindgaren, touw.
to Paddle, o. w. plassen.
Pàgan, . de heiden.
M. 3
Pa
426
PA
PA
Page, z. de bladzijde; on the fol-] to Pardon, b. w. vergeven,.2}}
lowing page, op de volgende
bladzijde.
Páid, dw. en o. t. van to Páy.
Păin, z. pijn, ſmart, moeite, 2)
do ftraf, 3) ongerustheid; he
took pains, hij deed moeite; to
give pains, moeite veroorzaken.
Painful, bv. Smartelijk, e) moci.
jelijk.
Painfully, bw.smartelijk, a) moci-
jelijk.
Paint, z. het blanketfel.
Painting, z. het schilderen, de
Schildering.
Fáir, z. twee bij elkander behoo
rende dingen ; in het Hollandsch
wordt dis woord ſomtijds weg.
gelaten, een paar, a pair of
breeches, een broek; a pair of
bellows, cen blaasbalg, 2) een
paar, (mannetje en wijfje).
Palace, z. het paleis.
Pàlatable, bv. Smakelijk; a pala-
-
table food, ſmakolijke ſpijs.
Pålate, z. het verhemelte, 2) de
Smaak.
Påle, bv. bleek; to look pále as
death, doodbleek zijn.
Palisáde, z. palisfade, eene
ſe paal.
Pallace, zie Palace.
Palm, z. de palmboom.
van firaf ontheffen.
Párents, z. mv. de ouders.
Parrot, z. de papagaai.
to Parry, b. w. afkeeren; to ➡a
blow, een flag af keeren.
Part, z. een deel; in part, gedeel
telijk, 2) aandeel; 3) for my.
part, voor mij, ik voor mij,
4) de rol van een tooneelspe-
ler; to act the part of one, den
rol van iemand spelen.
to Partáke, b. w. deel aan iets
hebben, deelnemen..
Partaker, z deelnemer.
Particle, Z. een deeltje, klein-
gedeelte.
A
+
Particular, bv. bijzonder, niet al
gemeen; a particular walk, en
bijzondere, afgelegen, eenza-
me, wandelweg, a) omftandig;
a particular account, een omflag-
tig verhaal, 3) bijzonder, uit-
gezocht; a particular pleasure,.
een bijzonder vermaak.
Particular, z. eene omftandigheid,
bijzonderheid; in this particu
lar, in deze bijzondere omftan--
digheid.
Spit-particularly, bw. bijzonderlijk,
inzonderheid, 2) omftandig.
Partly, bw. deels, gedeeltelijk.
Party, zene partij, een hoop.
to Pass, or w、voorbijgaan; I'll
pass over this part of the histo-
ry,
ik wil deze plaats over=
flaan, 2) voorbij zijn; 3) b.
w. door of over iets gaan, rij•
den, varen; they had passed the:
straights of Calais, zij waren
het kanaal gepasfeerd, 4) door-
brengen; he passed his days,,
hij bragt zijne dagen door; he
passed the night, hij bragt den
nacht, deor..
to Palpitate, o. w. how his heart
palpitated, hoe zijn hart klopte.
Pàn, z. de pan ;: a‹ frying pan, sen
braadpan, 2) vaatwerk in het
algemeen ; a milk pan,
melkput.
вет
Panther, z. eeu pantherdier.
Paper, z, het papier; a sheet of
paper, een blad papier.
cel, z. het pakje, pakot, kloi-
no bundel.
Pardon 2. de vergiffenisa
་
Piss
PE
427
PE
Passage, z de reis, doortogt,
overgang, 2) uitgang, opening;
a narrow passage under the ground,
een naauwe onderaardſche gang,
3) ecne plaats uit een boek.
Passenger, z. cen reiziger, pas-
fugier; they were passengers,
zij waren pasfagiers.
Passion, z. de hartstogt.
Passionate, bv. driftig, hevig;
he used the most passionate ges-
tures, hij maakte de hevigfte
gebaarden.
Past, dw. van to Pass, 2) bv.
voorbij.; 3) het verledene.
Páste, z. het deeg.
Pastime, z. het tijdverdrijf.
Paternal, bv. vaderlijk.
Path, z. hot pad, de weg.
Patience, z. hot geduld.
Patient, bv. geduldig,
Patiently, bw. met geduld.
Pause, z. rust, rustpunt, fil-
ftand.
to Pause, o, w. rasten, fil hou.
den, ophouden;
phouden ; after having paus.
ed a little, na dat hij zich een
weinig bedacht had.
N
Paw, z. de poot.
to. fay, b. w. betalen, I'll pay
your expences, ik zal voor a
betalen; 2) to pay a visit, een
bezoek afleggen; to pay divine
worship, godsdienftige hulde be-
toonen; to pay obedience, go.
hoorzamen; to pay attention,
oplecten.
Péace, z. de vrede.
Peaceful, bv. vreedzaam, gerast.
Péack, peak, z. de top van cenon
berg; the peak of Teneriffe, de
piek van Teneriffe.
Peaked, bv. geſpiest, pantig,
Spits; a peaked basket, cenfpit-
fe mand.
:
to Péal, b. w. fchillen.
Pearl, z. de paarl, parel;
Pearled, dw. pearled over, bepan-
reld, als beftroeid met paarlen..
Péase, z. inv. erwten.
Pèbble, z. keifteen.
4
Peculiar, bv. eigenaardig, bija
zonder; peculiar care, bijzon"
dere zorgvuldigheid, bijzon--
der doel.
Pèn, z.-eene ſchrijfpen.
to Penetrate, b. w. doordringen,
2) doorgronden; to penetrate
into a matter, iets doorgronden.
Peninsula, z. een fchiereiland;-
the foremost peninsula, he&
fchiereiland aan deze zijde vas
den Ganges.
Pèasive, bv. nadenkend, diepzian
nig, 2) zwaarmoedig.
People, z. het volk, 2) de men.
felien in het algemeen,
het
woordje men wordt dikwijls door
people vertaald.
to Perceive, b. w.bemerken, onsu
waren, bespeuren..
Perceptible, bv. markbaar, zigt-
baar.
to Pèrch, b. w. zitten als een van
gel op eenen tak.
Pèrfect, bv. volmaakt.
Perfèction, z. volmaaktheid.
Pèrfectly, bw. volmaaktelijk.
to Perform, b. w. uitvoeren, vera.
rigton, doen.
Performance, z. de uitoefening,
dead.
Perhaps, bw. misschien.
"
Pèril, Z. gevsar; at the pèril
met gevaar.
Périod, z. de tijdruimte, 2) hep
tijdffip.
to Pèrish, o. w. vergaaN ›
omkom
with hunger, vás hos-
ger forven.
M.m 4
Per
4:8
ΡΙ
PE
;
Permission, Z. het verlof, toc-
ftemming.
to Permit, b. w. vergunnen, toe-
Aaan; to be permitted, verlof
hebben.
Pernicious, bv. fchadelijk, ver-
derfelijk.
Perpendicularly, bw. regtlijnig,
loodregt.
Perplexity, z. de verlegenheid.
to Pèrsecute, b. w. vervolgen.
Persecution, z de vervolging.
Perseverance, z. de volharding.
to Persevére, o. w. volharden;
persevering industry, Handvas-
tigs vlijt, naarfigheid.
Perspective glass, z. een verre-
kijker.
to Persist, o. w.volharden, ftand
.
houden; persist in a refusal,
bij zijne weigering
weigering Stand
houden.
Pèrson, z. perfoon.
to Persuade, b. w. overtuigen,
overreden, overhalen.
to Pertain, b. w. behooren tot iets
Perú, z. het landfchap van dien
naam, Peru, in Zuidamerika.
Perúsal, z. het doorloopen, vlug
sig doorlezen of hier en daar
inzien van een boek.
Peruvian, bv. peruaansch, van
Peru; peruvian sheep, peruaan-
fche fchapen.
to Pervert, b. w. verleiden, be
derven.
Pest, z. de pestziekte, 2) f. elke
foort van groote kwaal.
Pestilence, z. de pestziekte, de
pest.
to Petrify, b. w. verfteenen aq pe-
trified, verleend, verftij fa
van schrik.
Pewter, z. het tin.
fchijnfel, de verſchijning, mv.
phenomena.
Philosophy, z. de wijsgeerte; na
tural philosophy, natuurkunde.
Physical, bv. natuurkundig;
faculty, natuurlijk vermogen,
natuurkundig vermogen.
Physician, z. de geneesheer.
Physick, z. het geneesmiddel, de
geneesmiddelen.
Physicks, z. mv. de natuurkunde.
to Pick, b. w. bijeenrapon, op.
zamelen; to pick up, lezen,
oprapen; to pick out, uitpluk-
ken, uitzoeken, lezen.
1
Pickaxe, z.
to Pickle, b. w. inloggen, iu-
Zosten.
Pico, zie Peack..
Picture, z. fchilderij, afbeelding.
Piéce, z. een stuk, 2) een kanon,
ook a piece of cannon, 3) a
piece of work, een Auk werk.
Piecemeal, bw. ftuksgewijze, ft uk
voor stuk.
to Pierce, b. w. doorbooren, door-
Aeken, a) f dordringen.
Pierced, dw. gehoord.
Piéty, z. vroomheid, godvrezend-
heid, 2) liefde; filial piety, kin·
derliefde.
een
Pike, z. de piek, ſpies.
Pile, z. een stapel, hoop, 2) cou
brand- of houtstapel, houtmijn.
Pillow Z het hoofdkussen; to
advise with one's pillow, zich
*
op iets beflapen.
Pin, z. nene ſpeld,
rene speld, 2) con pen,.
pin, Spits coeloopend werktuig.
to Pine, b. en o. w.
0. w. verdrietig
droevig zijn; to pine away one's
life, in droefheid verkwijnen.
Pious, bv. vroom, godvreczend,
2) teeder.
Phenomenon, z. het luchtver Piously, bw. met vroomheid.
Rips
PL
420
PL
Pipkin, z. een potje.
Pirate, z. een zeeroover.
Pistol, z. een pistool.
Pit, z. een gat of hol in de aar-
de, een groef.
Pitfall, z.
Pitch, z. het pik, pek.
to Plich, b. w. to pitch a tent,
eone rent opslaan; 2)0. w.met
upon, kiezen, uitkippen; to
pitch upon a thing, iets uitkip-
pen, uitzoeken.
Piteous, bv. droevig, erbarmelijk.
Piteously, bw. jammerlijk.
Pitiful, bv. erbarmelijk, armza-
lig, ellendig..
Pity, z. het meedoogen, het me-
delijden, 2) de oorzaak der
klagt, jammer; it were a pity,
het ware jammer; it is a great
pity, her is wel jammer.
to Pity, b. w. beklagen, medelij·
den hebben met.
Pláce, z. de plaats; 2) in the first
place, vooreerst, 3) ceramb-
ten; places of trust, gewigtige
eerambten.
to Plant, b. w. planten;
a gar
dea, eenen tuis beplanten.
Plantation, Z. plantfoen, plant-
aadje, 2) ecné volkplanting.
Pláte, z. een bord, schotel.
to Play, o. w. Spelen; 2) z, her
Spel, het fpelan.
Playfellow, z. Speelmakker.
Pleasant, bv. aangenaam.
to Please, b. w. behagen, 2) in
iets behagen vinden; if papa
would please to give me, indien
het papa behaagde mij te
geven; if God would please to
forgive him, wanneer God hem
vergiffenis wilde fchenken; his
majesty was pleased, her be-
haagde Z. M.; I am not at all
pleased with him, ik ben in het
geheel niet met hem tevreden.
Pléasing dw. van to please, plea
sing hopes, aangename hoop..
Plè asure z. hes vermaak; for
pleasure, voor pleizier, 2) bea
hagen; after his pleasure, naar-
het hem behaagt, naar zijn
behagen.
**
>
to Pláce, b. w. plaatſen, zetten, Plèntiful, bv. overvloedig, rijw
leggen.
Plague, z. eene plaag, 2) heer.
fchende besmettelijke on
e on vers
woestende ziekte, 3), bepaalde
delijk de pest.
kelijk.
Plènty, z. overvloed.
Pliable, z. buigzaam.
Plòt,.z. een plek, kleins plaats;:
the grass plot, de groene plek.-
Plain, bv. en bw. plat, vlak, ef- Plough, z. de ploeg.
fen, 2) klaar, duidelijk.
Pláin, z. eene vlakte, een dal.
Pláinly, bw. duidelijk, 2.) onver»
bloemd, voor de vuist; he plain-
ly told him, hij zeide hem
ronduit.
Plan, z. eam plan, ontwerp.
Pláne, 2. eens vlakte, 2) eene
fchaaf.
Plank, z. eene plank.
Plaut, z. de plant, het gewas.
to Plough, b. w. ploegen.
Ploughman, z.
z. een akkermau
bouwman .
Plough shåre, z. het kouser.
Plow, zie Plough.
to Pluck, b. w. plukken, uit
plukken.
Plummet, z. het zinklood, peil.
to Plunge, b. en o. w. onderdui-
M№ 5
ken, duiken, zich in het we-
ter Bartin.
to.
430
РО
P.O
to Ply, b. w. ijverig aan iets ar-
beiden; to ply the oars, met
alle magt roeijen.
Pocket, z. de zak, tasch.
Pocket money, z. zakgeld.
Pod, z. de fchaal, ſchil, bast.
Pòint, z. de punt, het Spitſe ein-
he was but poorly instructed
hij was flecht onderwezen.
Póre, z. het zweetgaatje.
Pórk, z. versch, ongezouten vare
kenvleesch; to pickle one's pork,
zijn varkenvieesch inzouten.
de, 2) eenig bijzonder tijd. Porringer, z. eene kom, ſchaal,
punt; he was on the point of,
hij fond op het punt van te
-, 3) bijzonder voorwerp ;
point of view, oogpunt, 4)
doel, oogmerk; he carried his
point, hij bereikte zijn oog-
merk.
to Point, b. en o. w. panten,
puntig maken, 2) wijzen, ton
non; pointing to the map, op
de kaart wijzende; the magne-
tick needle points to the torth
de maagneetnaald wijst her
noerden aan.
,
Pointed, bv. Spits, pantig ; poin-
ted posts, pointed poles, ſpitſe
· palen.
Poison, z. het vergif, gif
Poisonous, bv. vergiftig.
Póle, z. een paal, 2) een staak.
to Polish, b. w. polijsten, 2) be-
fchaven.
Polished, bv. gepolijst, glad;
polished silver, gebruineerd
silvor, 2) bofchaafd; pòlished
rations, befchaafde volken.
Polite bv. befchaafd, welleverd.
Poll, z. verkorting van Parrot,
of liever de naam van papo-
van papo
gaaijon, lorretje, lozre!
Pond, z. de vijver.
Four, bv. arm, behoeftig, 2)
armzalig, weinig te ach.
sen.
Poorly, bw. arm, behoeftig; 2)
armzalig, weinig te achten;
nap, een bekken.
Port, z. de haven.
Pórtion, z. een deel, aandeel.
to Possèss, b. w. bezitten.
Possible, bv. mogelijk.
Possibly, bw. mogelijk, he could'
not possibly judge, het was hem
niet mogelijk te oordeelen.
Póst, z. een post, paal, 2) de
post van den foldaat, 3) het
ambi, de post.
to Pose, b. w. ftellen, plaatſex.
Postèrity, z. de nakomelingſchap.
to Postpone, b. w. verſchuiven j
uitftellen.
Posture, z, de toeftand', 2) de
plaatsing van het ligchaam,
het postuur.
Pòt, z. een por; a watering pot,
eon gietemmer, 2) een kroeg,
kraik.
Potatoe, z. de aardappel.
Potion, z. een drank; bewitching
pótion, een tooverdrank.
Potter, z. een pottenbakker.
Pouch,. z. con zak, tasch; a hun-
ter's pouch, eene wijtasch; a
pouch ful, een zak vol.
Potud, z. hes pond.
to Pound, b. w. footen, fampen
(in een' vijzel), verbrijzelen.
to Podr, b. w. uitfchudden, uit-
gicien, uitforten; f. to pour
blessings upon one, ismand met
zegeningen overlades, 2) b. w.
vloeijen, ftroomen; to pour
forth
PR
43r
PR
forth praises to God, Gods lef
uitboczemen; the rain poured
down, de regen fortte neder.
Powder, z. poeder, ſtof, ±) bus-
kruid, ook gunpowder.
Powder room, z. de kruidkamer.
Power, z. de magt.
Powerful, bv. magtig.
Practice, z. de wijze van iets to
doen.
to Practice, prac ise, b. w. en o.
w. iets oefenen, uitoefenen,
doen, drijven.
Praise, z. de roem, lof; a hymn
of praise, een lofzang.
to Praise, b. w. prijzen, 2) dank·
zeggen; to praise God, God
danken, 3) bidden.
Pray, (tusfchenw. eigenl. b. w. I
pray), oi lieve.
Prayer, z. het gebed; to say
prayers, bidden.
Precaution, z. de voorzigtigheid.
to Precéde, o. w.voorgaan; what
preceded this narration, wat de-
ze vertelling vooraf ging.
Précept, z. het bevel, voorschrift.
Précious, bv. kostbaar.
Précipice, z. de afgrond.
to Precipitate, b. w.nederflorten.
Precipitation, z. de overhaasting.
Préface, z.devoorrede, inleiding.
to Prefèr, b. w. de voorkeur ge-
verkiezen boven iets
ven,
anders.
Prejudice, z. het vooroordeel.
Prejudicial, bv. nadeelig, fcha-
delijk.
Preparation, z. de voorbereiding.
to Prepáre, b. w. voorbereiden;
2) o. w. zich gereed maken.
to Prepossess, b. w. innemen ;
prepossessed with a thing, met
iets ingenomen ;
with a foo
lish fear, met eene dwaze vrees,
to Prescrible, b. w. voorſchrijven.
Frèsence, z. de tegenwoordigheid;
་
of mind,
van geest.
tegenwoordigheid
Prèsent, bv. tegenwoordig (van
plaats zoo wel als van tijā),
ook at present.
Présent, z de tegenwoordige tijd;
for the present, voor het tege
woordige, s) een gefchenk.
to Present, b. w. aanbieden,
fchenken, geven, 2) daar-
ftellen.
Prèsently, bw. tegenwoordig, 2)
terftond.
Preservation, z. het behoud.
to Preserve, b. w. behouden, bei
ſchermen; God preserve us for
it, God behoede ons daarvoor ;
the preserved people, de gered•
de menfchen.
Presèrver, z. de redder, behou.
der, befchermer.
to Prèss, b. w. drukken; the wine
is not pressed, de wijn words.
niet uitgedrakt ; to press down,
nederdrukken; 2) met tegen-
Spoed drakken, beladen; pres•
sed with grief, door kom 133 T
gedrukt, 3) aandringen, ver»
zoeken; he pressed the captain,
hij drong den kapitein; 4) 0.
w. to press upon one, op is.
mand aandringes, (in het
gevecht).
Prèss, z. de pers.
Prèssing, bv. en dw. drukkend;
his pressing wants, zijne dria-
gendfte behoeften.
to Presume, b. w. en o. w. gis.
fen, vermoeden, 1) zich aan-
marigen, de vrijpostigheid
nemen.
Presumptions, bv. läärdunkend j
trotsch, vermetel.
to Pretènd, b. w.voorgeven, voor:
WINS
432
PR
PR
wenden, 2) zich inbeelden;
3) 0. w. zich verfouten, wil-
Tens zijn.
Pretty, bv. fraai, mooi, aardig,
2) tamelijk; pretty good, vrij
goed.
to Preváil, o. w. de overhand be-
halen, 2) heerfchen; silence
prevailed throughout nature.,
eene diepe filte heerschte in
de natuur; 3) to prevail on
one, iemand overreden, over-
halen.
to Prevent, b. w. voorkomen, ver-
hinderen, verhoeden.
Prize, beter price, z. de prijs,
de winst, het geluk, 2) het loon.
Probability, z. waarſchijnlijkheid
Probable, bv. waarſchiinlijk.
Probably, bw. waarschijnlijk.
Probity, z. de eerlijkheid, braaf
heid.
to Procéed, b. w. voortgaan, ver-
volgen; he proceeded with his
work, hij zette zijn werk
voort; on his journey. hij vere.
volgde zijne reis, 2) afkom-
fig zijn, afstammen.
Proceeding, z. het gedrag, de
handelwijze.
Prévious, bv. voorafgaande, voor- Process, z. de voortgang; in pro.
loopig.
Préy, z. buit, proni, roof; a bird
of prey, een roofvogel.
to Préy, o. w. met on, verwoes,
ten, vernielen.
Price, z. de prijs, waarde; at
the same price, voor denzelf
den prijs.
Prickle, z. de doorn van planten;
prickles of thorns, de ftekels
van doorner.
Priest, z. de priester.
Prince, z. de vorst, prins; a
prince's feast, een vorftelijk maal
Principal, b. het voornaamfte;
the principal truths, de voor-
naamste waarheden.
Principle, z. de grondslag, grond-
ftelling.
to Print, b. w.drukken, afdrukken.
Print, z. a print of human foot,
een afdrukfel van eenen men -
Schenvoet.
Prison, z. de gevangenis.
{
Prisoner, z. een gevangene; to
take prisoners, krijgsgevange
nen maken.
Private, bv. verborgen, heimelijk.
Privately, bw. heimelijk.
cess of time, in vervolg van tijd.
to Proclaim, b. w. bekend maken,
uitroepen.
to Procure, b. w. verfehaffen,
bezorgen.
Procuration, z. bezorging, beyor-
dering.
Prodigal, bv. verkwistend.
Prodicious, bv. wonderbaar, on-
geloofelijk, verbazend, zeer
groot.
to Prodice, b. w. voortbrengen,
veroorzaken.
Production, z. voortbrengsel.
Productive, bv. voortbrengend,
vruchtbaar.
to Profèss, b. w. openlijk beken":
18012 - a religion, eenen gods-
dienst belijden.
Profitable, bv. voordeelig, nuttig,
Profound, bv. diep; a profound
silence, eens diepe ftilte.
Progress, z. de vordering, voort-
gang.
Progrèssive, bv. vorderend, toe
Progressive, bv. vorderend,
nemend.
Project, z. het voorwerp, voor.
nemen; to drop a —, een hand o'pa
laten varen.
PR
433
PR
to Projèct, b. w. ontwerpen, vér-
zinnen, to projèct a scheme, ean
plan ontwerpen.
Prolix, bv. wijdloopig, witvoe-
rig, amflagtig.
to Prolong, b. w. verlangen.
Promise, z. de belofte.
to Promise, b. w. beloven.
Promontory, z. een voorgebergte,
to Promote, b. w. bevorderen,
bewerken.
to Pròœpt, b. w. aanſporen, aan-
drijven, verpligten, noodza-
ken; humauity prompted me to
it, de menschlijkheid noodzaak-
to mij er toe,
te Pronounce, b. w. aitfpreken.
Preóf, z. een bewijs, 2) eone
proeve.
Proof, bw. bestand; proof against
wind and weather, 18gen wind
en weer beftand.
to Pròp, b. w. fitukken,
to Propagate, b. w. voortplanten,
vermeerderen.
Proper, bv. eigen, eigenlijk,
waar, behoorlijk; the proper
reason, de ware oorzaak, 2)
eigenaardig.
Properly, bw. eigenlijk, ben
hoorlijk.
Property, z. het eigendom, ver.
mogen, de bezittingen, 2) de
eigenschap.
Frophecy, z. voorzegging.
to Prophecy, prophesy, b. w.
voorzeggen, voorspellen.
Propórcion, z. evenredigheid, ver-
houding, in proportion as, naır
mate.
Proposition, z. hee voorfel, de
voorflag.
Proprieter, z. de eigenaar.
to Prosecute, b. w voorszėtién,
vervolgen; - a work, met een
werk voor gaan.
Prospect, z het uitzigt kst
aanzien.
to Prosper, o. w. gelakkig zijn,
flagen, zijn gelak miken,
Prosperity, z. voorspoed, gelak.
Prosperous, bv. voorspoedig,gar
ftig, 2) gelukkig.
to Prostrate, b. w. - One's self,
zich op den grond werpen.
Prostration, z. de vocrval; after
an humble prostration, masemen
nederigen voetval.
to Protèct, b. w. befchermen.
Protèction, z. de bescherming.
Protestant z. de protestant,
hervormde.
Proud, bv. ingebeeld, grootsch,
hovaardig.
to Prove, b. w. bewijzen, 2) 01
dorzoeken, 3) o w, blijken se
zijn of te doen; she proved to
be the mother, het bleek dat
zij de moeder was; the wind
proved favorable, de wind blesk
gunftig te zijn; if he should
prove to be a traitor, in geval
dat het mogt blijken, dat hij
een verrader wars.
Proverb, z. fpreekwoord.
to Provide, b. w. met iets voor
zien, verzorgen, (met of s
with), 2) iemand verzorgen,
(met for).
Providence, z. de voorzienigheid;
divine providence.
Provision, z. de voorraad, 2)
my levensmiddelen.
Prudent, bv. voorzigsiz.
Proportionable, by. geevenredigd, | Provision
waar evenredigheid.
Proposal, 2. kes voorßtel, de
voorflag.
co Prúne, b. w. fnacij n, befnije
Na
dom.
434
PU
PU
}
den; he pruned the hedge, hij | Pûr osely, bw. voorbedachtelijk.
fnoeide de heg.
Publicátion, z. de afkondiging.
+
Publick, z. het publiek.
Publickly, bw. openlijk.
Padding, z. cene worst, podding;
a fried pudding,eone braadworst
to Pull, b. w. trekken, Scheu-
ren, rukken; to pull down,
nederrukken; to pull off one's
cap, zijne muts afnemen ;
pull off one's clothes, zich onts
klecden.
Pulse, z. de pols.
Pump, z. de pomp.
co Pump, b. w. pompen.
Pumpkin, z.
414
to
to Punish, b. w. ftraffen, kastij-
den, bestraffen.
Pupil, z. de leerling, kwekeling.
to Purchase, b. w. koopen.
Pure, bv. ſchoon, helder, 2) zui-
ver, onvermengd.
to Purify, b. w. zuiveren.
Purpose, z. het voornemen, doel; |
for that purpose, ten dien ein-
de; on purpose, moodwillig,
met voordacht; to answer the
same purpose, tot hetzelfde doel
dienen; to no purpose, te vèr-
geefs.
|
4
Parse, z. de beurs, galizak.
to Pursue, b. w. vijandelijk ver-
volgen, naz sten, 2) voortzet-
tez, 3) navolgen, (als cen
voorbeeld).
Pursier, z. de vervolger.
✓
to Push, b. w. footen, fchuiven,
drijven, inftoppen.
to Put, b. w. zetten, leggen,
Bellen; his stomach put him ia
mind, zijne maag herinnerde
ham, 2) met bw. krijgt dit
woord verfchillende beteekenis◄
fen; to put off one's cloths,
zich ontkleed.n; to put off,
uitſtellen, verfchuiven; to put
oa one's clothes, zich aanklee-
deni
to put out a fire, een
vuur uitdoven; to put up with
·
a piece of bread, met een fuk
brood voor lief nomen.
Putrefaction, z. bederf, rotting.
Pútrid, bv. bedorven, verral.
Puzzle, b. w. in verlegenheid
brengen; it puzzled his brains,
hij brak zich vorgeefs het
heefd, hij kon niet begrijpon;
bis understanding was puzzled,
zijn vorBand ftond Ail.
Pyramid, z. eene piramide.
Q U
Quality, z. eigenſchap.
Quàlmisb, bv mis´elijk; he grow
qualmish, hij werd misfelijk.
Quantity, z. hoeveelheid, menig-
te, grootte.
Quarrel, z. de, twist, het krakeel.
Quarter, z. het vierde deel; a
hiod quarter', con achterstub
van'een gefagt dier, 2) de
QU
hewelFreek; a wind blowing
from all quarters, con wind die
ait alle hoeken des hemels
kwam, 3) genade, fchenking
van het leven; he begged for
quarter, hij bad om zijn leven.
to Quench, b. w. lesfchen; to
quench one's thirst, zijnen dorss
lesfchen.
Ques.
Q U
435
QU
Question, z. de vraag, 2) het
onderwerp des gefpreks; the
matter in question, de zaak
waarvan hier de rode is.
Quick, bv. en bw. fnei, ſpoedig,
fchielijk, vlug.
Quickly, bw. fnel, ſpoedig,ſchis~
lijk, vlug.
Quickness, z. Spoed, gezwindheid.
Quiet, bv. Hil, gerast.
to Quiet, b. w. gerust fellen,
fillen.
Quietly, bw. flil, gerastelijk,
to Quit, b. w. verlaten; the
island, bet eiland verlaten.
Quite, bw. geheel, geheel en al.
RA
RE
Rice, z. de wedloop, loop, loop Rapidity, z. de fnelheid.
baon,
Raft, z. een vlot, houtvlot.
Rafter, z. 6en dwarsbalk, balk.
Rag, z. cen vod, lap, lor.
Rapidly, bw. fuel.
Rapture, z. de verrukking.
Ráre, bv. zeldzaam, ongewoon.
Rascal, z. een booswicht, fchurk.
Rage, z. de woede, 2) de ho- Rish, bv. over eild, onbezornen,
vigheid.
to Rage, o. w. worden, razen,
tieren; the raging sea, de woe-
dende zee.
vermetel.
Rashness, z. de onbezondenheid,
overeiling,
Rasp, z. cene rasp.
Ragged, bv. gefcheurd, aan flon- | Ráce, z. de prijs, waarde; at
:
ters, gelapt.
Rais, z. de regen.
to Ráin, o. w, regenen.
to Raise, b. w. verheffen, in de
hoogte heffen, 2) wokken, op•
wokken, aanwakkeren.
Raisin, z. de rozijn.
Ráke, z. de hark,
to Rally, o. w. zich weder in or--
de fiharen, zich weder ver-
zamelen.
Ràm, z. een bok.
Ranbie, z. oen zwervor, tand.
looper.
Rampart, z. de wal, flads muar.
Random, z. het toeval; at rand-
om, op goed gelak.
Rapacious, bv. rosfgierig.
Rapid, bv. fuel, gezwind; a rapid
een fucile freon.
stream,
this rate, tot deze prijs.
Rather, bv. liever, veslear; he
chuse rather, hij wilde liever.
Ravelin, z. gracht, ravelijn,
vestingwerk ait twee flanken,
én eenen hoek beftaande.
Raven, z. de raaf.
Råvenous, bv. roofzuchtig, gro-
tig, gulzig.
1
to Ravish, b. w. verrukken.
Raw, bv. raauw, ongekookt ; raw
flesh, raauw vleesch, a) van
het vel ſprekendo, gekwetst.
to Réach, b. w. bereiken, 2) to e◄
reiken, aanbieden, 3) 0. W.
zich uittrekken.
Réach, z. de afftand waarop wen
iets bereiken kan, het bereik,
within his reach, endar zijn
bereik.
Nas
to
435
RE
R&
to Read, b. w, lemen..
Réader, z. de lezer.
Readiness,z.de bareidwilligheid.
Reading, het lezen, de lezing.
Ready, bv. gereed, 2) bereidwil-
lig, 3) bij de haud, nabij.
Réal, bv. wezenlijk; a real nut,
eene wezenlijke noot, the real
cause, de wezenlijke (eigenlij-
ke, ware), oorzaak.
Reality, z. de wezenlijkheid.
to Reap, b. w. rapen, ineogfter,
inzamelen.
to Rear, b. w. fokken, opbren
gen, kwecken; he reared a flock,
hij fokte eene kudde.
Reáson, z. de rede, het gezond
verftand; inconsistent with rea-
son, met de rede, met het ge-
zond verftand, onbestaanbaar,
2) de oorzaak, reden, grond.
to Reason, o. w.redeneren, den-
ken, befluiten, 2) naar rede,
oorzaak, vragen.
Réasonable, bv. redelijk, 2) billijk
Reasonably, bw, redelijk, 2) billijk |
Reasoning, z. het redeneren, den
ken, oordeelen.
Rèbel
muiter.
een oproermaker,
to Rebound, o. w. terugſprin
w. terugfprin-
gen, afspringen.
to Recall, b. w. terugroepen.
o Recéipe, b. w. ontvangen,
donnemen, 2) iemand huisves
sen, ontvangen, onthalen; he
received him with great hospi
tality, hij ontving hem met
veel gastvrijheid.
Receptacle, z. de bewaarplaats,
2) de plaats waar men iets ont-
vangt of huisvest, de verza-
melplaats.
to Reckon, b. w. rekenen, bere.
kenen; he reckoned ever, hij
borekende.
to Recláin, b. w. terugvorderen,
to Recline, o. w. leunen, rusten.
to Recollect, o. w. wedergirza-
melen, 2) herinneren; do you
recollect? herinnert gij u? 3)
one's self, zich bezinnen,
weder bij zijne zinnen komen.
to Recommèud, b. w. aanbevelen.
to Record, b. w. opschrijven,
aanteekenen, verhalen.
Recourse, z. toevlugt; to have
recourse, zijne toevlugt nemon.
to Recòver, b. w. iets weder ba-
komen, tereg bekomen; - one's
ship, zijn fchip terug krije
gen; to recover one's seuses,
one's spirits, one's self, weder
bij zijue zinnen komen; -
one's liberty, vrij komen.
Recovery, z. herstel, genezing.
to Rècreate, b. w. verkwikkeu o
verfrisſchen.
to Recriut, b. w. werven ; - one's
self, herftellen, nieuwe krach
tan krijgen.
Rèd, bv. rood; red-hot, gloek-
jend.
to Redden, b. w. rood maken,
Reddish, bv. roodachtig.
to Redouble, b. w. verdubbelen,
to Redúce, b. w. terugbrengen,
brengen tot; to reduce to obé>
dience, tot gehoorzaamheid
brengen, 2) bedwingen, var-
overen; to be reduced by hun
ger, door den honger gepijnige
worden.
Réed, z. het riot.
Réel, z. cen haspel, garenklas.
Rèference, z. de betrekking.
to Refit, b. w. verfiellen, in-
zonderheid van fchepen, kale.
faren,
to Reflect, b. en o. w. terugwer-
pen, efkaaiſen; to reflect the
light,.
RE
437
RE
light, het licht terugkaatfón,
2) iets overwegen, nadenken,
(met on of upon).
ragvallen, of tot eenen yori-
gen misflag terugkeeren.
to Reláte, b. w. verkalan.
Reflèction, z. het nadenken, de Relácion, z. de vertelling, her
overweging.
to Refrain, o. w. zich met ge-
weld van eene zaak onthouden,
2) zich beswingen, betoomen.
to Refresh, b. w. verkwikken,
verfrisschen.
Refreshment, z. de verkwikking.
to Refuse, b. w. en o. w. weige
ren, iets weigeren, weigerig,
onwillig zijn.
Refusal, z. de weigering.
ro Rèfuge, b. w, in beſcherming
nemen.
to Regain, by w. herwinnen, Wes
der verkrijgen.
Régal, bv, koninklijk.
to Regard, b. w. iets achten, 2')
iets in aanmerking nemen, 3)
in zijne bescherming nemen.
Regard, z. de blik, ) de betrek.
verhaal, berigt, 2) een bloed-
verwant, 3) betrekking ;
bear relation to our happiness
10
tot ons geluk betrekking hebben.
Relative, bv. betrekkelijk.
Relaxácion, z. nalatigheid, 2)
verflapping.
Released, dw. bevrijd, vrijgs-
laten.
Reliéf, z. verligting, leeniging.
to Reliéve, b. w. verzachten
verligten, 2) eenen ſchijd-
wacht aflosfen.
Religion, z, de godsdienst.
Religious, bv. godsdienftig; reli-
gious sects, godsdienstige par-
tijem
to Relinquish, b. w. verlaten,
iets opgeven, laten varen.
to Relish, z. de goede fmaak,
aangename ſmuak.
Rèlishing, bv. ſmakelijk, PAD
goeden fmaak.
king tot iets with regard to,
ten aanzienyan, ten opzigt wan.
Région, z. de landftreek.
Regrèt, z. ſpijt, droefheid, be. Reluctance, 2.
2. de tegenzin,
rouw.
weerwil.
1
to Regret, b: w. beklagen, be to Rely, o. w. zich op iets ver-
rouwen, betreuron.
Régular, bv. regelmatig
Regularly, bw. regelmatig.
to Regulate, b. w. verordenen,
inrigten.
laten, op vertrouwen.
to Remain, o. w. overig blijven,
overblijven.
Remains, z. mv. het overschot,
de overblijfſålen.
Regulation, z. de verordening, Remainder, z. mv. het overſchot,
inrigting.
to Rejecs, b. w. verwerven.
·
to Rejice, o. w. vrolijk zijn;
to rejoice in a new day, zich
over eenen nieuwen dag yor-
heugen; in a truth, over ee-
me waarheid.
de overblijffelen.
Remárk, z. de bemerking, can-
merking.
Remarkable, bv. merkwaardig.
Rèmedy, z. een geneesmiddel, in
het algemeen elk middel tegem
cenige kwaal.
to Relapse, o. w. weder inforto
i ten » in eens vorige zickis
te-
Remember, b, w. sich iets
herinneren.
Nas
Re
438
RE
RE
Remembrance, z. de herinnering,
het geheugen.
To Remind, b. w.iemand iets kor-
inneren.
Remonstrance, z. de voorfelling,
de vermaning, waarschuwing,
raadgeving.
Remote, bv. afgelegen, verwij-
derd, zoo wel van tijd als
plaats Sprekende; into the re-
motest futúrity, tot de laatfte |
sijden.
o Reméve, b. w. uit den wig
ruimen, wegschaffen, verwij-
deren.
to Rend, b. w. Scheuren, ver-
fcheuren.
o Render, b. w. wedergoven, 2)
maken; to render one's self un-
worthy of a thing, zich iets on-
waardig maken.
to Renew, b. w. vernieuwen.
to Renounce, b. w. ontzeggen,
van afzien, opgeven; to re
nounce a pleasure, een vermaak
ontzeggen ; an error,
dwaling laten varsu.
Rènt, dw. van to Rend, in ftuk-
ken gefcheurd.
eene
to Repair, b. w. herftellen, ver-
maken; 9). o. w. zich begiven
(naar eenige plaats).
Repair, z. het verblijf, de vor-
blijfplaats.
Repåst, z. de maaltijd.
to Repéat, b. w. herhalen, iets
ten tweeden male doen, nog
eens doen.
Repeatedly, bw. herhaalde ret
zen, bij herhaling.
to Repènt, o. w. berouw hebben,
zich bedroeven, (met of), he
repented of his wrongs, hij had
berouw van zijne misdrijven ;
if you sincerely repent, indicn
ww berouw opregt is.
Repentance, z. het berouw.
Repentant, bv. berouw hebbend,
boetvaardig.
to Reply, o. w. antwoorden.
Reply, z. sen antwoord, segon?
werping.
Repórt, z. het gorngt, algemeen
verhaal, het gezegde, her be
rigt, 2) het geluid van eers
kanonſchot.
Repóse, z. do rust, de faop.
to Repose, o. w. aitrust815
ruiter.
to Represent, b. w. voorstellen.
Reproach, z. het verwijt.
to Reprove, b. w. loken, baris-
pen, afkeuren.
Requést, z. con verzoek, eene bede
to Require, b. w. vorderen, ver-
lasgen, 2) vereiſchen, noodig
zijn.
Rèquisite, bv. noodzakelijk, nood-
wendig.
to Requíte, b. w. vergelden.
to Rescue, b. w.bevrijden, redden
Resèmblance, Z. de gelijkenis,
gelijkheid; to bear some,resèm-
blaace, eenige gelijkenis hobben.
to Resèmble, o. w. gelijken, geo
lijk zijn.
to Reserve, b. w. bewarez, be-
Sparen.
Reserve, z. bespaarde voorraad,
poorraad voor den tijd vaœ
nood, ■) voorbehoudings
to Reside, o. w. wonen.
to Resign, b. w. nederleggen,
onderwijzen; one's self, zich
erijwillig en gelaten onder.
werpen; with resigned fortitu-
de,
met gelatens ftandyas-
righeid.
Resignation, z. onderwerping.
to Resist, b. w. tegenstand bie
den, wederfiasn.
RE
439*
KE
ร
.
ro Acosive bo và Belaitên, có
Roobive
resolve apòa, vastfallen; the
voyage was resolved upon, de
Teis werd bepaald.
Résolate, bv. kloekmoedig, man-
haftig, vast bifloten.
Resolucion, z. het binit, het
Voornemen, a) de fandvastig-
heid, klockmoedigheid.
Resource, z. halpmiddel,hulpbron
Respect, z. de eerbied, a) be-
srekking, epzigt in some res-
pect, eenigermate, in fumi-
ge opzigton; with respect to,
ten opzigte var.
Respecrable, bv. eerbiedwaardig,
achtingswaardig.
Respectully, bw. eerbiedig.
Respiration, z. de ademhøling.
Respite, z. her wisfol, de ftil
"
Band, 2) verfchooning.\
Best, z, her overblijffel, de rost,
hot overfchor; for the rest
yoor has overige; all the rest
of us, alle de overigen van ons.
Rest, z. de rust, de flaap; his
mind was never at rest,. mooit
was zijn geest gcrust.
Readless, bv. onrustig,russeloos.
to Restore, b. w. horftellen, te-
ruggeven; to restore to life,
sot het leven terug brengen;
to restore to vice, in de on.
dougd terng flepen; a restored
friend, een herwonnen vriend.
to Res.ráio, b. w. terughoudon,
afhouden.
t Result, o. w. outflaan, ent-
Springen, volgen, het ge.
volg zijn.
Result, z. het gevolg, het einde.
to Resume, b. w. iets (dus afges
broken was) horvasten, weder
@pvatten, weder aanvangen;
the father resumed the story,
dė vadir vatte den draad van
het verhaal weder op; he re-
sumed his air of familiarity, hij
nam - zijn vriendelijk gelsar-
weder aan.
to Retain, bi w. beliarden, 2):
onthouden, siet vergeten.
to Retake, b. w. hernemon, wsi-
deram nemen.
Rétinue, z. het gevolg, de ftoet,.
hefftoes.
་ས་
to Retiré, o. w. terug trekkeny,
aftrekken, weggae¤;
Retired, bv. eenzaam.
Reuréat, een toevlugtsoord,
wijkpleats, ſchuilplaats, 2).
een eenzaam verblijf, 3) de
eenzaamheid.
to Retreat, o. w. zich terug
trekken.
to Retrieve, b. w. inhalen, we-
der bekomen, vergeeden; to
retrieve one's younger days,zij.
xe jonge dagen nog eeus ge-
nietes.
to Return, o. w tersgkeeren,
wederkomen, omkeeren; 2) b.
w. teruggeven; to return thanks,
bedanken, danken.
Return, z. de terugkomst, we-
derkomst.
to Revéal', b. w. opezbaren, oui.
dekkens
Reverence, z. de eerbiedigheid,
aerbewijzing, hylde.
Revèrse, z. de omgekeerde zijde,
2) het tegendeel; and so the re-
vèrse, on zoe omgekeerd, bij
afwisseling.
Rèvery, z. droomarij, mijmering.
to Revive, o. w. op nieuw¡eyong
2) b. w. bozicion.
co Revòlve, b w. overwegen; be
revolved in his mind, hij over-
woog bij zich zelyen.
No 4
R&T
440.
RE
RO
hot
Revolution, Z. omwenteling; the
great revolution of nature,
vreesfelijk nataargewrocht.
to Reward, b. w. beloonen, ver-
gelden.
·
Reward, z. de vergelding, het leons
Riband, z. een lint.
Rice, z. de rijst.
Rich, bv. rijk.
Riches, z. de rijkdom.
Richly.
vloedig.
bw. rijkelijk, over-
to Ripple, b.
to Ripple, b. w. het glas ho
kelen.
Ripplecomb, Zi
Rise, 2. het opftaan; the rise of
the sun, het opftaan van de
zon; the sunrise, de zonnenop-
gang, 2) de oorsprong.
to Rise, o. w. opftaan, rijzen,
2) zich verheffen.
Rising ground, z. een verheyen
grond, heuvel.
to Risk, b. w.wagen, iets wagen.-
ietswagen.
Rick, z. een hoop ; his hayrick, River, z. de rivier.
zijn hooiberg.
Ald, dw. van to Rid.
to Rid, b. w. bevrijden g-to get
rit of one, iemand kwijt ra-
kon, hem los worden.
Riddle, z. een raadfel, in het
algemeen: elke onverklaarbare,
duistere zack.
to Ride, o.
0. en b, w. te paard
rijden.
Ridge, z. eene bergketen, gene
rei bergen.
z.
Riverwater, 2. het rivierwater.
Road, z. de groote weg, land-
weg, heerenwag; near the road--
side, bij den weg; what roads
to keep, welken weg men moess
infagn.
ફો
ro Roam, o: w. rondzwerven.
to Roar, o. w. brullen, 2) loei-
jen, gelijk doe zes of de ftorm-
wind.
•
Roaring, z. het geloei, her gebrul.
to Roast, b. w braden.
Ridingbreeches, z my. cene rij- Roast, dw.gebraden; roast meat.
brock.
Rigging, z. de takellaadje, het
touw'entakelwerk van een fchip
Right, bv. regt, 2) jaist, regt;
you are right, gij hebt gelijk;
3) the right hand, de regter hand.
Right, bw. regt, juist; very
right, juist.
Right, z. het regt, gelijk; you
are in the right, gij hebt gelijk.
Righteous, bv. regtſchapon, regi-
vaardig, eerlijk, braaf.
·
Rightly, bw. met regi, regima.
tiglijk.
Rind, z. de bast, fchors.
Ringleader, z. de aanvoerder,
belhamer.
Ripe, bv. rijp, tijdig,
so Ripen, o. w. rijp worden.
|
|
gabraden vleesch.
to Rob, b. w. berooven, rooven.
Robber, z. een roovers
Rock, z. rots, klip..
•
Rocky, bv.rotsachtig, vol klippen
to Roll, b. en 0. w. rollen, wen-
telew; the ship rolled up and
down, het fchip rolde heen ex
weer; some years rolled over,
eenige jaren verloopen.
Róller, z. rol, rolkout.
Roman, bv. romeinsch, roomschg
a roman catholick, een roomscha
gezinde.
Roof, z. het dak.
Roóm. z. de ruimte; bereisroom
enough, hier is plaats geroog,
2) kamer; the powderroom, de
kruidkamer,
Boot,
RU
44T
RU
Rodt, z. de wortel:
Rópe, z. een touw.
Ropemaker, z. een touwflager.
Róse, o. t. van to Rise.
Rosin, z harst, pik of pek.
Rotten, dw. van to Rot, verrot,
bedorver.
to Rove, o. w. rondzweryen; tô
rove about the woods, in de
berfchen zwerven..
Rough, bv. raw.
Round, bv. rond; round about,
rondom; a round about´way,
een omweg.
to Rodse, b. w. uit den slaap
wekken, opwekken, asumOJ –
digen.
Rów, z. cane ret.
to Rów, b. w. rosijen..
Royal, bv. koninklijk.
Royalty, z koninglijke UGAT-
digheid.
to Rub, b. w. wrijven.-
Rubbish, z. pain, painhoopen..
Rudiment, z. de beginfelon.cener
wetenſchap, 2) her serte on-
derwijs.
Rufled, dw. van to Ruffè, g‹-
kreukeid, køibelend, (van ko
zee sprekende).
Rúin, z. de ondergang, vernico.
siging, a) mv. de puinhoopen D:
ruines, overblijfſelèn.
to Ruin, b. w. verzielen.
"
Rule, z. regel, voorſchrift.
Rumbling, 2. het ger atel, ges
Kletter.-
to Run, o, w. loopen; to run
into glas, tot glas uitloopen.
Rouning, dw. van to Rug,
ranning footman, ese looper
hardlooper.
Rúral, bv. landelijk,
2.
Rush, z. de bies, eene foort van-
watergrass
to Rush, o. w. ſnel eronſtuinig
leopen, plofelijk voor den dag-
kemen to rush down, neder--
forten; the blood rushed in his
face, her blood froomde in zijn:
aangezigt.
•
Rustling, z. het geruisch, Tuia-
ſchen; of the leaves, het rui
faken der bladen.
Rye, 2. dê rog, rogge, bekends:
foort van graan.
SA
Sacred, bv. hoflig; by all that is
sacred, bij al wat heilig is.
to Sacrifice, b. w. opoffères, toe-
wijden.
Sål, bv. treurig, droevig; the
sad consequences, da droevige
gevolgen.
Saddle, z. de zadel.
.
Saddler, z. do zadelmakera.
Safe, bw. galukkig, veilig; safe
and sound, frisch en gezond,
belio.den.
N.n
SA
Safely, bw. veilig, zonder
vaar, gelukkig, behouden.
| Safery, & de zekerheid:
Said, or ten dwi yas to Say.
Sáil, z. let zeil.
Sail cloth, zo-bos zeildoek.
to
Sáil, o. w. en b. w. zeiler,
va en, uitzeilen.
matress.
Sailor, z. een zeeman,
Sake, z. de eindbewegings oor
zaak, for our sake, om onstar
wille, ten onzen behoeve; for
sport's
442
SC
SA
sport's sake, uit boort, voor
tijdverdrijf, uit kortswijl.
Såle, z. de verkoop.
Sallied, o. t. van to Sally.
to Sally, o. w. he sallied forth,
hij trok af.
Sált, z. het zout; bv. zout, go-
Zouten; to salt herrings, harin-
gon in pekel doem.
Sàlvage, z. de berging, rodding
van verongelukte fchepen, the
laws of wreck and salvage, hes
Arandregt.
Salutary, bv. heilzaam.
Sáme, bv. zelfde; the very same,
juist de (of her) zelfde.
Sample, z. het monfter, staaltje.
Sånd, z. het zand.
4
Sandbank, z. de zandbank.
Sandal, z. de voetzool der voeten.
Sandy, bv. zandig.
Sanguine, bv. levendig; shuguine
wishes, varige wenschen.
Săţ, o. t. van to Sit.
to Sáriate, b. w. verzadigen; he
could not satiate his eyes, hij
kon zijne oogen niet verzadigen
Satisfaction, z. de bevrediging,
voldoening, het genoegen.
?
to Satisfy, b. w. voldoen, genoo.
gon goven, bevredigen.
Saturday, z. zaterdag.
Savage, b. v. wild; z. een wilde.
to Sáve, b. w. redden, behouden;
one's self, zich redden, 2)
Sparen; to save of one's pocket
money, van zijn zakgeld be-
Sparen.
Sáving, z. da redding.
Savour, 2. de fmakelijkheidi
Saufage, z. een braadworst.
Sáu, o. t. van to Sel.
Saw, Z. oone Zaag.
•
to Sáwy b. w. zagon.
|
|
to Sảy, b. w. en o. w. zeggen;
it is said, men zegt.
Sáying, z. eene ſpreuk, een fproek.
woord.
to Scald, b. w. met heet water
brandon, Broeijen.
Scarce, bw. uzaawélijks.
to Scare, b. w. vrees aanjagon ;.
instated out of his scufer, van
vrees buiten zich zelven.
Scarlet, z. fcharlaken; bw.ſchar-
lakenrood.
J
to Scatter, b. w. rondfrooijen;
-0. w, zich verftrooijen ; about
the woods, zich in de bosfchen
verspreiden.
Scéne, z. de fchouwplaats, 2)
een tooneel; family scenes, huise
felijke tooncelan.
Schéme, z. ontwerp, plan.
Scholar, z. een geleerde, 2). 6.8.12.
feholier, leerling.
School, z. de fchool.
Science, z. de wetenschap.
L
| Scientifick, bv. wetenſchappelijk.
Sciffard, z. mv. eene schaar.
to Scoop, b. w. uithollen,
graven,
·
uite
to Scorch, b. w. zengen, verbran-
don; ths scarching heat, de Gran--
dende hitte.
to Scorn, b. en o. w. befpotter,
a) versmaden.
to Scramble, b. en o. w. klaute-
rem; to scramble on shore, aan
land klouteren; to scramble
down, naar beneden klosteren.
to Scrape, b. w. Sihaven, afë
Sehrapen.
to Scratch, o. w. krabben.
to Scream, to scream out, 0. w.
ſchreeuwen, gillen.
to
Screen, b. w. befchermen,
(mat from),voor iets beſchutten.
Screw, z. de Schroef.
Scrit
S E
443
SE
Scruple, z. bedenkelijk geval,
bedenkelijkheid.
to Scruple, o. w. huiverig zijn,
aarzelen, iess niet van zich
kunnen verkrijgen.
Scull, z. herfenpan, de ſchedel.
Scullion, z. de keukenjongen.
Sculpture, z. de beeldhouwkunst.
Séa, z. de zee.
Séacoast, z. de kast,het firand.
Séa man, z. de zeeman,
troos.
Sea map, a. de zcekaart.
+
MA-
to Search, b. w. doorzoeken, 2)
o. w. met after, naar iets zoe-
ken, navorſchen.
Search, z. de waarvorfching, door.
zoeking.
Séa sick, by. zeeziek.
Season, z. een der vier jaarge.
tijden, 2) tijd, gefchikte tijd,
in het algemeen; the fishing
season, de vischtijd.
to Season, b. w. toebereiden, aan
·
maken (van ſpijzen).
|
to Sée, b., zekor.
my
Seed, z her zoad; to take the
seeds of the flax, het zaad van
het vlas nemen.
to Seek, o. w. (mes after en for),
naar teis zoeke
to Seéo, o. w. fchijnen.
Seen, dw. van to See.
to Séize, b. w. grijpen, vatten
2) overvallen; he was seized
with a violent beadake, hij werd
door zware hoofdpijn overval.
len; 3) o. w. he seized on him,
hij pakte hem aan.
Seldom, bw. zelden.
Self, (voornaamw) zelf; one's
seif, zich zelf; from isself, var
ait zich zelven.
Selfdefence, z. do zelfverdediging
Sèlfdenial, z. de zelfverloochening
Self denying, bv. zelfverlooche-
nend;
to Sell, b. w. verkoopen,
Selves, mv. van zelf; their own
selves, zij zelven.
Séasonable, bv. gelegen, sen beto
hoorlijkės tijde geſchiedende.
Scasonably, bw. gelegen, ten ber
hoorlijken tijde geſchiedende.
Séat, z. de zetel.
Send, b. w. zarden; to send
compliments, loten groetan; 2)
to send forth, voortbrengen,
veroorzaken.
Sensation, z. het gevoel.
to Seat, b. w. nederzetten; to sense, z. de zia,
be seated, zitten.
Second, bv. tweede.
Secondary, bv. ondergeſchikt; a
secondary intention, een min-
der gewigtig voornemen.
Secondly, bw. ten tweede.
Sécret, bv. verborgen, onbekend;
secret reasons geheime ro-
denen.
?
Secure, bv. veilig, zeker, fe
kuar.
Security, Z. veiligheid,1 zeker-
heid.
hat zintuig •
2) de gewaarwording; the sea-
ce of shome, het gevoel van
Schaamte, ) verftand; common
sense, het natuurlijk verſtand,
het gezond verftand.
Sènseless, bv. gevoelloos, 2) 01
Sensibility, 2. de gevoeligheid.
verftandig, enredeloos.
Sensible, bv. gevoelig, 2) (mar-
selijk, 3) merkelijk; sensible
relief, merkelijke verligting,
4) bewust; to be sensible of a
thing, overtuigd, bewust zijn
van iets; 5) to make doen
ban
800
SH
SE
begrijpes; to make the animal
sensible, het dier doen be
grijpen.
Sensibly, bw. merkelijk, voelbaar
Sent, dw, en o. t. van ra Send.
va
Sèotence, z. het vonnis,
vonnis, hes
oordail.
Sentiment, a de meening, ker
gevoelen.
Sontimèeral, bv. govoelvol, over-
dreven gevoelvol.
Sèntinal, z. de fchildwacht.
to Sèparate, o. w. ſchoiden, afo
fcheiden, afzondsrez, 2) o. w.
van elkander fcheiden; səpar
ated from all mankind, van alle
menfchen gefcheiden.
Separately, bw. afzonderlijk.
Serése, by, helder, 4) opgeruimd.
Serenity, z de klaarheid, 2) op-
gersimdheid.
Sérias, z. de rei, regts; a series
of thoughts, ecme reeks van ge-
dachten.
Serious, bv. ernstig.
Seriously, bw. erußiglijk.
Serpent, z. de flong.
Servant, z. dienstbode; man ser-
vant, knecht; maid servant,
meid, dienstmeid.
:
to Serve, b. w. en o. w. dienen,
bediencs, 2) voldoende zijn;
it would not serve his turn, het
was voor ziju oogmerk niet
voldoende, 3) tot iets dienen,
nuttig zijn, 4) de plaatsver"
Wapgor} it would serve him as
a cellar, het kom de plaats van
oon kelder vervangon, $) be-
handelen; I am rightly served,
ik krijg loon ngar werken, )
de fpijzen opdragen.
Service, z. de dienst.
Sèrvile, bv. flaafsch, kruipond.
Sèrvitude, 2. flavernij, dienst-
baarheid.
Sèssion, z. de zitting.
to set, b. w. zetten, Felles; to
set sail, onder zeil gaan, 2)
in caniges toeftand plaatſen;
to sat free, in vrijheid ftellen;
to set on fire, in den brand file-
ken, 3) met bijvoeging van
onderfcheidene bw. to set about
a thing, iets ondernemez; to
set up a cry, een gefchreeuw
¡aosheffen ; \o. w. ondergaan; ·
the sun sets, de zon gaat on-
der; to set out, vertrekken;
to set to work, aas hot work
gean.
Set, z. de ondergang; the sun set,
zonnen ondergang.
to Settle, b. w. vastellen;
motters, de zakon vereffenen.
Settlement, z. ſchikking, over-
∙ocukomst, 2) volkplanting,
kolonie.
Sèven, bv. zevon.
Seventeen, bv. zeventien.
Seventeenth, by. zeventiendo,
Seventh, bv. zevende.
to Sèver, b. w. afzonderen; se
vered of under, gefcheiden,
verstrooid.
Sèveral, bv. verfcheiden, onder-
fcheiden.
Sevére, bv. gestreng; - прод
ose, Areng jegens iexand..
Severely, bw. mot geſtrengheid.
Severity, z. de geftrengheid.
to Sew, (pr. so), b. w. naaijen▾
Shade, z. de ſchaduw.
to Shade, b. w. beschaduwon, 2)
fchaduwen.
Shadow. z. de ſchedaw.
to Shadow
to Shadow, o. w. befchaduwen.
Shady, bv. beſekaduwd.
to Shake, b. w. ſchudden; he
shook his head, hij hudde
zijn hoofd; to shake off, af-
Schud-
SH
445
SH
fchudden; to shake hands, elk.
ander de hand geven, (in.
zonderh. bij het affcheid nemer)
Skáke, z. de ſchok, floot; a hear
ty shake, een duchtige fchok.
to Shall, (onvoll werk.) zullen;
I shall, ik zal, 2) bevoegd
zijn, mogen; shall we, mogen
wij? 3) moeten.
Shallow, bv. ondiep.
Shame, z. de fchande, a) de
2)
Schaamte.
Shameful, bv. ſchendelijk.
to Shape, b. w. vormes.
Shápe, z. de geftalte, de vorm.
to Sháre, b. w. deelen, verdte-
len; 2) o. w. deel hebben.
Share, z. het deel, aandeel.
Sharer, z. de deelnemer.
Sharp, bv. fcherp; 2) [pits, puntig.
to Sharpen, b. w. Scherpen, x)
puntig maken.
to Shatter, b. w. verbrijzelen.
Shaving, z. het fehaven; the shav-
ing beam, de fchaafboom; shav-
ing knife, het fchaafijzer.
She, (voornaamw.) zij, (fchepen
worden in het Engelsch, als
yrouwelijke z. met she aange-
duid, en derhalve words her
voornaamw. in zulk een geval
door het vertaald).
to Shed, b. w. forten, vergio-
ten; to shed tears, tranen for.
ten; to shed blood, bloed ver-
giotos.
Shèd, z. een afdak, loots.
Sheep, z. het fchaap; mv. da
fchapen.
Sheet, z. een blad; a sheet of
paper, com blad papier.
Shelter, z. de ſchuilplaa's, e)
cene woning, huisvesting.
to Shelter, b. w. befchermen, be-
dekken.
to Shew, zie Show.
to Shift, b. w. veranderen; to
shift the sails, de zeilen wax-
den, omzetten; 2) o. w. vera
anderon; the wind shifts de
wind verandert, 3) zich weren
of zoeken te helpen; by shift
ing for himself, door zich zel
ven te helpen.
Shift, z. meer of min mogelijke
poging; to make a shift, track-
ton, pogen, zich behelpen.
to Sbíne, o. w. Schijnen; the sue
shines, de zon ſchijnt, 27 blin-
ken; they shone like polished
silver, zij blenken als gepo*
lijst zilver.
Shine, z. de ſchiin, glans; the
sun shine, moon shine, zinne
fchijn, manefchijn.
Shining, dw. blinkend,
Ship, z. het fchip.
Shipbuilder, z ſhaepstimmBTBICE,
Shipbuilding, z. de fcheepsbouw.
Schipwreck, z. Schipbreuk,
to Shipwreck, o. w. fchipbreuk
lijden.
Shipwright, z. een scheepstim-
Berman,
Shirt, z. het manshemd.
Shivering, z. het beyen, Bäderex.
Shock, z. de fchok.
to Shock, o. w. aan iets Booten.
Shocking, dw. zanfiootelijk, afe
fchuwelijk; a shocking sight.
ees afschuwelijk ſchoewſpel.
Shoe, z. de ſchoen
Shell, z.
2. de fchelp, 2) de fchaat, | Shoćmaker, z. da ſchoenmaker.
dop.
to Shell, b. w. ſchillen, doppon; | Shook, o. én vaz to Shake.
Shòne, dw. en o. t van to Shine.
to shell pease, erwiem doppen.
to Shoốc b. w. Schietem, 2}
drine
446
S I
SH
dringen, fchicten; o. w. a beam
shot through, cen fraal schoot
(of drong) door.
Shop, Z eene werkplaats; a
smith's shop, een fmits winkel,
sene fmederij.
Shore, z. de zesoever, wal, kust,
het firand; to go on shore, aan
wal gaan.
Strub, z. cen struik.
Shrunk, dw. en o. t. var to Shrink.
to Shadder, o. w. falderen, ijzen.
to Shun, b. w. vermijden, vlieden.
to shùr, bɔ w. fluiten, toedven
wegfluiten, to shut up, ogão
одно
fluiten.
Shy, bv. fchuw.
Sick, bv. zisk, ompasfelijk; to
fall sick, ziek worden, s) mis-
felijk he grew sick, hij werd
}
misfelijk.
Short, bv. en bw. kort, korte.:
lijk; in a short time, in kor-
sen tijd; to stop short, fil
Baan; in short, kortom.
to Shorten, b. w. verkorten; e) | Sickly, bv. ziskelijk.
o. w. korter worden, afnemen, | Šickness, z. ziekte.
minderen.
s)
Shortly, bw. in kort, in korien
sije.
Shortsighted, bv. bijziende, 2)
kortzigtig van verftand.
Shot, dr. en o. l. van to Shoot.
Shòt, 2. het ſchot, het schieten,
a) kogels; small shot, hagel,
fchroot.
ao
Sickle, z, de fikkel.
Side, z. de zijde ven ists; the
side of a hill, het afhangon
van eenen berg; the seaside,
de kost, zeckant; near the
roadside, langs, bezijden dan
·weg, 2) tegenover Baards par-
tijen; on both sides, van we.
derskant, belderzijds.
Siége, z. de belegering, het beleg.
zo Shove, b. w. Schuiven, ſchof Siéve, z. de zocf.
felen.
Shovel, z. con fchop, fchoffel,
Should, o. t. van Shall,
t. van Shall, zoude;
I should, ik zoude; we should,
wij zeuden.
Shoulder, z. de fchouder, 2) het
borstuk, de bont van een ge-
flagt dier.
o Shout, o. w. fchreeuwen van
to
blijdschap, juichsn.
Shodt, z. het gejaich.
Shouting, z het gejuich.
|
to Sift h. w. ziften.
>
to Sigh, o. w. zachten.
Sigh, z. de zucht.
Sighing, z. hat zuchten,
Sight, z. het gezigt, e) hat zien;
at the first sight, op her cerfe
gezigt; to get sight of a thing,
iets te zien krijgen; to lose
sight of a thing, iess air het
oog verliezeng to have a full
sight of a thing, iets geheel
overzien.
30 Show, b. w. aantoonen, wij | Sighted, bv. ziende; shortsighted,
zen, laten zien.
kortzigtig.
Shower, z. eens regenbui, con| Sigu, z. bet teeken, fein.
fortregen.
Shown, dw. van to Show.
to Shrink, o. w. hevig ontßelien,
ontroerd zijn, ijzang to shrink
back, serug doinzen,
to Sign, b. w. teekenen, betee-
kenen, 2) teskenen, ondorioe-
komen.
Signal, z. het fein, reeken, de
jenzo.
Sig-
SI
Signification, z. de beteekenis.
to Signify, b. w. beduiden, bo-
teakomen; the points sigaify the
sandbacks, de ftippen duiden de
zandboeken aan; what does it
signify? wat betekent het?
Silence, z. Bilzwijgen, 2) de
Ailte, als tusfchen w. silence!
fill zwijg!
Silent, bv. ftil, 2) zwijgend.
Silently, bw. fil, 2) zwijgend.
Silly, bv. dom, onnoozel.
Silver, z. het zilver.
Similar, bv. gelijkvormig.
Simple, bv. eenvoudig, enkel, 2)
kangtoloss.
Simple, z. een botterik, domoor,
bosmuil.
Simplicity, z. de eenvoudigheid.
Sie, z. de zonde.
Stuce, bw. fedort dien tijd, a)
voor, federt; long since, voor
langen tijd; some time since,
federt eenigen tijd.
Slace, (voegw.) omdat, wijl.
Sincére, bv. oprogt, eerlijk.
Sincerely, bw. opregt, eerlijk ;
if you sincerely repent, indien
uw berouw ernſtig is.
Sincèrity, z. opregtheid.
to Sing, b. en 0. w. zingen; the
birds sung their morning lays,
de vogelen zongen hun mor.
genlied; he sung with a loud
voice, hij zong met luider
fremme.
to Singe, b. w. zengen,
brandon.
ver-
Single, bv. eenzaam, enkel.
to Slagle out, b. w. afzonderen.
Singular, bv. eenvoudig, 2) zon.
derling.
Singularist, z. de zonderlinge.
Singularity, 2. de zonderlingheid,
zeldzaamheid.
SL
S L
·447
to Sink, o. w. zinken; his son
was ready to sink within him
hij frond als verſteend.
Sir, z. mijn haar.
to Sit, o. z. zitten; to sit downy
mederzitten.
Situated, bv. gelegen, liggende.
Situation, a. de ligging, 2) de
toestand,
S.x, bv. zes.
Sixteenth, bv. zestiende.
Sixth, bv. zesdo.
Sixty, bv. zestig.
Size, z. grootte, lengts, 2)`gếu
Stalte.
Sketch, z. eens teekening, onis
werp.
Skill. z. bekwaamheid, behen-
digheid.
to Skim, o. w. ligt over heen loo-
pen; the ball skimmed along the
surface of the water, de kogol
vloog over de oppervlakte van
het water.
Skla, z. het vel, de huid.
co Skin, b. w. villen, het vel of
firoopen.
Skinner, z. een leertouwer, hus
devester.
Skirt, z. de fchoot van een kleed,
2) het uiterſte of einde van
iets; the skirt of a wood, hop
buiten hoat.
to Skream, zis to Scream.
Sky, z. de hemel, het luchtreia.
to Slack, to slake, b. w. blase
fchen; slaked lime, geblaschte
kalk.
Sláin, dw. van to Slay.
to Slap, b. w. mes de vlakke
hand flaan.
Slave, z, sem flsaf.
Slavery, z. de ſlavernij.
to Slay, b. w. doodes, doodßlaan.
verflaan.
003
448-
SO
SN
zo Sleep, o. w. flapen; 2) b. w.
verflapen, doorflapen; to sleep
away the sultry hours, de heet-
fte uren verflapon.
Sleepy, bv. faporig.
Sleeve, z. de mouw.
Slender, bv. dun, buigzaam.
Slèpt, o. t. en dw. ven to Sleep.
Slice, z. seno fnede, een afge-
Ineden plat Byk.
Sniff, z. de Jnuiftabak.
So, ba. zoo; why so? waarom?
to Sóak, bw. weeken, doopen,
Foppen.
to Sóar, o. w. zich in de hoogte
verheffen, vliegen; they soar
the water, zij vliegen boven
het water.
to Sòb, o. w. fnikken, weenen.
Sóber, bv. marig.
$light, bv. dun, 2) zwak, onbe | Sobriety, z. matigheid, nuch-
duidend.
to Slip, o. w. uitglijden; his
foot slipt, zijn voes flipte uis,
gleed uit.
terheid
Sóciableness, z. gezelligheid.
Social, bv. gezellig, 2) maate
Schappelijk.
Society, z. de maatschappij.
Sòd, z. de zoode, zoodenbank,
2) de sardkluit.
Soft, bv. zacht, week.
3leóp, z. de floep.
Słów, bv. langzaam.
Slowly, bw. langzaam; his work
went on slowly, zijn werk ging
langzaam voort.
Slumber, z. de fluimering.
sly, bv. flim, listig.
Small, bv. klein, 2) gretig.
Smallshot, z. hagel, ſchroof.
Smattering, z. eene oppervlakki
ge kunde; he had got a stato
tering of the english, bij had een
mondvol engelsch geleerd.
to Smèll, b. en o. w. rieken,
ruiken.
Smell, z. de reuk.
to Smile, o. w. glimlagchen.
Smiling, z. het glimlagchen.
Smith z. de mid.
Smoke, z de rook.
to Smoke, smoak, o w.rooken;
a). w tabak rooken, 3) roo-
ken; to smoke meat, vleesch
rooken.
Smooth, bv offen, glad.
to Smooth, b. w. glad, offer
maken.
Sudre, z. de val, de ftrik.
to Snách, b. w. vatten, grijpen.
Spów, z. de freeuw; as driven.
snow, gelijk vorſche ſneeuw.
to Soften, b. w. zacht of week
maken, 2) verzachten, ver-
Zoeten, verteederen.
Softness, z. de zachtheid, zacht.
moedigheid, a) de weekelijkheid.
Soil, z. de grond..
Solace, b. w. verkwikken; he
solaced himself, hij verkwikte-
zich zelven.
Sóldier, z. de foldaat.
Sole, z. de zool, (voet-offchoem
2001).
Sole, bv. alleen, canig.
Solely, bw. alleenlijk,
Sòlemn, bv. plogpig.
Solemnity, z. plegtigheid, ernst,
wrardigheid.
to Solicit, b. w. verlangen, aan-
houdend verzoeken.
Solicitation, z. verlangen, verzoek.
Solicitons, bv.-angftig, bekom.
merd, zorgvuldig, ongerust.
Sòlid, bv. vast, deurzaam j mas-
sive, solid gold, massief goud.
Solitary, bv. eevizacm; a solitary
walk, een afgelegen wandelweg.
So.
SO
449
SP
Sòlitude, z. de eonzaamheid.
Some', bv eenige; some hundred
miles, eenige honderd mijlen ;
in some measure, eenigermase.
Somebody, z. iemand.
Somehow, bw. op de eene of de
andere wijze.
Something, z. iets.
.
Sometimes, bw. ſoms, famtijds.
Somewhat, bw. iets, iet of wat,
eenigzins.
Somewhere, bw. ergens.
Son, z. zoo.
Sòng, Zing zong, led
Soon, bw. proeg, kort daarna,
weldra.
Soóp, z. foep, sop.
-
to Sooth, b. w. verzoeten, ver
zachten, 2) bevredigen.
Sorcerer, z. een toovenaar.
Sorceress, z. eene tooverss.
Sóre,bv. gewond,gekwetst, kwaad;
sore eyes, kwade oogen.
Sorely, bw. ſmartelijk; sorely
grieved, diep bedroefd.
Sorrow, z. droefheid.
Sorrowful, bv. bedroefd, trea-
rig, ellendig.
Sorry, bv. bedroefd; I am sorry
for it, het spijt mij; he was
not sorry, hij was niet be
droefd, het berouwde hem niesi
Sört, z. føort, aard.
•
Source, z, de bromi
South, z. het zuiden; the south-
de fille zuiazee.
Southeast, z. het zuidoosten'; bv.
zuidoost.
sea,
Southwest, z. het zaidwesten;
br. zuidwest.
to Sow, b. w. zaaijem
Spáce, z. de raïmţei
| Spacious, bv. reim.
Spáde, z. de Spade, de fchop:
Spaniard, z. de ſpanjaard.
Spaniel, z. de waterhond, krui-
hond.
| Spanish, bv. Spaansch.
to Spáre, b. w. sparen, bespa-
ren, 2) verfchoonen; to spare
one's life, zijn leven ſparen
3) overhouden; I could have
spared so much time, ik kors
zoo veel tijd overgehouden heb-
ben, 4)riess kunnen onsberen;
he spared it from his own mouth,
hij ſpaarde kes ait zijn sigon
mond.
t
Spark, z. da vonk.
to Sparkle, o. w. fonkelami
Spatterdåshes, z. mv. flopkouſen:-
to Speak, o. en b. w. ſpreken.
Spear, z. een ſpies, piek, ſpeer.
Spècies, z: de foort, aard; of
my own species, van mijnen
eigenen aard:
Sovereign, z. de landvoogd, op Specification, 2. eene uitvoerig
perkeer.
lijst, inventaris.
Sought, o. t. en dw. rap to Seek, Spèctacle, z een ſchouwſpak, toow-
vas
-Scal, zi de ziel.
neol, gezigt.
Sound, bv. gezond, 2) juist; a Spectator, ze aanschouwer,
sound judgment, een juist oor--Speed, z. do spoed, haast; to
deel.
Sound, zi de klank, het geluid.
to Sound, o. w. klinken, luiden;-
3)b w.onderzocken,navorſchen
Bour, by, zasr; sour milk, zare
really.
make speed, zich haasten.
to Spend, b, wi verteeren,
pation, afmasten; he was spent
with fatigue, hij was gehee
vermoeid, 3) tijd verfillen;
ho, spårt eight days at this wo`kys
Oo 3°
Ο
450
ST
SP
hij bragt acht dagen met dit | Sprightliness, z. vlugheid, opgo.
werk toe; he spent his time in
running about, hij bragt zij-
men vijd door met rondloopen.
Spent, o. t. en dw. van-to Spend.
Spice, z. Specerij.
Spider, z. de Spin, ſpinnekop..
to Spill, b. w.ftorten, vergieton.
to Spin, b. w. Spannen.
Spinner, z. de fpinner, ſpinger.
Spirit, z. de geest, het Spook ;.
2) mv. levensgeesten.
Spiritless, bv. moedeloos, meer-
flagtig.
Spit, z. een braadſpit.
to Spit, b. w. aan hes ſpit fekan..
Spice, z. fpijt; in spite of, ten
Spijt van; in spite of their
united strength, in weerwil van
hunne voreenigde mags.
Splèndour,ż, de glans, pracht,
prenk:
zo Split, b. w. ſplijten.
Split, z. eens Spleet.
to Spòil, b. w. bederven §. ver.
mielen.
Spoke, o. t. van to Speak..
9poken, dw. van to Speak..
Spoón, z. lepel.
Sport, z. een spel, vrolijkheid;
for sport's sake, wit kortswijl.
Spòrtingly, bw. gekfcherende,
kortswijlend, ſchertfend..
Spòs, ze de vlek, de plaats; upon
་་
the spot, op de plaars zelys..
Spout, z. eene buis, roer, pijp;
2) a waterspont, eene wolkbreuk..
so Sprawl, o. W. Spartelen'; be
laid him sprawling iu the sand,
kij leide hem ſpartelend in het -
zondi̇neder..
no-Spread, be we aitbreiden, ver•-
Spreiden,,(mes: out,, 2) 03 WI
zich uisßrekkenz,, zisha yer-
fpreideas.
ruimdheid, luchtigheid.
..
to Spring, o. w. Springen; to
spring out of the ground, wit
den grond opspringen; 2) to
spring a leak, een lek krijgen,
lek worden (van ſchepen).
Spring, z. de lento, 2) de bron.
Springwater, z. bronwater.
to Sprinkle, b. w. ftrooijen, foren-
kelen; he sprinkled his meat
over with salt, hij baſprenkel-
de zijn vleesch met zoat.
Sprung, dw. en 0. I. VAN τσ
Spring,
î
Span, dw. en o. t. van to Spin.
Spur, z. de spoor; f. aandrang.
to Spy b. w. ontdekken,.ontwas;
ren, a) aitſpieden.
Square, b. vierhoekig.
Square, z. esn winkelhaak.
to Square, b. w. vierhoekig man
ken, behouwen ; to square bricks,
bakfieonen vierkant maken.
to Squeeze, b. w. uitdrukken,
drakken.
to Stagger, o. w. tuimelen.
Sáid, o. t. yan to Stay.
to Schin, b. w. bevlekken; stained
with blood, met bloed bevleks.
Scake, z. een paal.
Stairs, z, mv. com trap, de trap-
pon.
7
Stalk, z. de feel, de halm.
Stall, 2. de fřál.
to Stamp, b. w. ftampen, met dem
voet of eenig ander worktuig g
they stamp it one with elbows,
zij drukken het met de allebo-
gen uita
to Stand, o. wì ftâan; to stand-
on end, øversinde ſtaan, 2) im
zekeren, toefand zijng to stads
in need of a thing iets neodig
habbeoga 3)_anship stands in fore
SAN
ST
451
ST
an island, een schip zeilt op Mo Steer, o. w. fturen; 2) b. v.
J
sen eiland aan.
Star, z. de far, fer.
to Stáre, o. w. faren, får aan
zien.
Starry, bv. geffernd; the starry
canopy of heaven, de sterren
hemel.
to Start, o, w. verbaasd fäan
2) met up, opvliegen, plotfe-
lijk opſpringen, 3) plotfelijk
voor den dag ſpringen; a tear
started from his eyes, sentra in
ontfprong zijn oog, 4).zich
verheffen, zich opdoen; some
new obstacle starts in view; -een
nieuw belerfel doet zich op.
to Starle, o. w. fchrikken, dein-
zen, 2) b. we fchrik´of vrees
asnjagon.
to Siàrve, o. we verkongeren.
Státe, z. de faat, toefland 2)
de Raat, het rijk; a minister
of state, san Fastidienaar.
to Stay, o. we in eenigen torftand
blijven; to stay with his parents,
bij zijne ouders blijvex; he
could not stay in it, hij kon er
nies in blijven.
"
Stáy, z. het verblijf“.
Srèadfast, bv - vast, onbewege-
lijk.
=
Steadfastly, bw. vast, onbewege.
lijk že his eyes were steadfastly
ixed, zijne oogen waren-ft¡¡f
gerigt. -
to Stéal, b. w. fèlènz-
Steel, z-flaak, 2) convuurfleet.
Steep, bv. fèil.
to Steep, b. w.indoopen, béyock-
tigen, wesken..
Steeple, z. de kerktoren, klokà
to steer one's course, zijnew
koers nemen..
Steerage, z. de achterfteven van
het fchip, de ftuurfteel.
Stèm, ze de ftam.
Stench; z. de ftank.
to Step, o. w. ſtappen; to step
to a place, naar eene plaass
·
gaan; he stopt behind the hedge,.
hij ging achter de heg.
Sièp, zeene fchrede, een pas&
Støp, 2) de trappen, 3) ds
voestrap.
Stèpt, o t. van to Step.
Sièra, z. de achterſteven van Bef `
jchip a stern, van achteren.
Steward, z. de hofmeester; high
steward of the household, 38-
opperhofmeester.
.
:
Stick, z. een fiok, ſtof, 2) een
timmerhout, 3) een suinſtok,
to Stick, b. w.ſtokam; 2) 0. W.
freken, zitton; it stick so fast
het zat zoo vast, frak`zoo vast.
Stiff, br. fsijf, onbuigzsAT.
to Stife, b. wo ſtikken, dempeus.
to stifle the blood, her blood
despen.
Still, bw. nogs nog ſteeds, 205
Gjenog cos
Keg too.
Still, bv. fiil', zonder beweging ;
he stood still, hij-ſtend feil,
3)
2) zonder gerass.
Stilness, z: da frilce; the stilbess
of the night, de fiiite van den
nachs
to Sting, b. w: ſtókönɛ
Sting, z. de angel,
to Stir, b. w. in beweging 201-
ton; to stir a mais, sené masfa
omreeren; 360, w zich bewe.
gen; he did not stir from the
spot, hij kwam sitt yan də:
pleama.
10.45
SACKS
452
ST
ST
Siòck, z. een blok; the scutching
stocks, 2) een voorraad; a
great stock of knowledge, eene
groote geleerdheid, veel kande.
Stocking, z. de kous.
Stole, o. t. van po Steal.
Stomack, z. de mang; his empty
his empty
stomack, zijne ledige maag,
2) eetlust - terror had taken
away his stomack, de fchrik had
hem allen cerlust benotes,
Stone
z. de Steen; precious
stones, odelgesteenten; bv. van
fioen, Steenen; a stone knife,
een Steenen mes; a stone wedge,
een ſteenen breckijzer.
Stood, o, oven to Stand.
to Stop, b. w. ophouden, régen
honden; he stopt him from fel
ling down, hij verhinderde dat
hij viel, 2) Stoppon, verftop-
peni 3) 0. w. ſtil ſtean, blij-
ven staan, ophouden; he stopt
short, he stopt here, hier bleef
hij staan, hier hield hij op.
Stop, z. ſtilſtand; to make a stop,
fril houden, to put a stop te
a thing, iets ftaken, er een
einde aan maken:
t
Stopped, stopt, . t. van to Stop.
Stóre, * een woorraad, eeno mo-
nigte; a storehousa; een ma-
gazija, pakhuis.
Storm, z. de fiori; 2) f. to take?
his castle by storm, zijn kas-
sel fformenderhand innom GMT
Stormy, by stormachtig.
Stóry, z. de verdieping, (vanN OEN
oen
huis), 2) hes gertalfals
Stout, bv. ftark; a stout young
fellow, en wakkere klosbe
jongen.
Sióve, z. de kogchel
to Stow, b. w. op zijne behoor.
bajke plaais légzens
J
to Straggle, o. w. randzwerve 85
Straggling, z. het sondzwerven.
Straight, bv. regt.
Straight, z. de zooëngte; the straight
of calais, het kanaxj.
Strand, z. het ſtrand, de kust.
to Strand, o. w ſtranden, op het
firand raken.
Stránge, bv. zeldzaam, zonder -
ling, ougome.n,
Stranger, z. de vreemdeling; to
be a stranger co fear, geene vrees
kennou.
to Stangle, b. w. verftikkan g
wurgen.
Stratagem, Z eene krijgslist,
to Stréam, o.w.ftroomen, vlosijen
Street, z. de firaat.
་་
Strength, z. de kracht, ſterkte.
to Strengthen, b. w. verferken.
to Streich, b, w. uitſtrekken z
out one's wearied limbs, zijne
matre leden uittrekken ;
one's hand', de hand uitsteken;
2) o. w. zich aitftrekken.
Strict, bv. naauwkeurig ; strict
obedience, frikis gehoorzaam.
hoid.
*
Stride, z. cene ſchrede.
to Strike, b. w. ſlaan, kloppen ;
he strack his meat, hij klopta:
zijn vleesch; 2) o w. the ligh
ning struck into the tree, hos
weerlichs floeg in dan boom;
3) to strike upon a seabank,
Branden.
String, z. een froer, koord.
to String, bw afhalen; to string
beans, boogen afhalen.
to Strip, b. we de bedekking weg n o =
men, a) zich uitkloeden, (mes
off), 3) ſchillen', pollen; her
fstff hij deed or
the bark,
do fskil van of
Strige
SU
453
SU
Striped, bv. geftreept; striped lí-
nen, gestreept lianen.
to Strive, o. w. freven, pogen,
trachten, zijne krachten aan-
wenden.
Strike, z. een fag; a stroke of
fortune, een ongeluk, een flag.
to Stroke, b. w Arelen.
Stròng, bv. fterk ; strong liquors,
fterke dranken.
Strongly, bw. krachtig, nadruk-
kelijk.
}
Strove, o. t. van to Strive.
Struck, o. t. en dw. van to Strike;
with confusion, befchaamd;
with an idea, plotfelijk op
sene gedachte komende.
to Struggle, o. w. wortelen, in
sweeftrijd zijn; without strug-
gle, zonder wederftand.
Stuck, dw. eo. t. van to Stick.
to Study, b. w. faderen, Ba™
denken.
Stuff, z. de Roffe.
!
to Scuff, b. w. Hoppen, opftoppen.
to Srùn, b. w. vandoovan, 2) doen
outftellen.
Stùng, o. t. van to Sting.
Stupefaction, z. ontftelsenis, ver.
bazing.
Stupid, bv. dom, bot.
-
Stupidity, z. de domheid.n
to Stutter, o.. w. flotteren, fa-
melen; with a stuttering voice,
met eene flotterende ftem.
Subject, bv. onderworpen; sùb-
ject to terror, aan dwaling.on.
derworpen.
Subjest, z. de onderdaans
Subjèction, z. de onderwerping.
Sublime, bv. verhoven.
Submission, z. de onderwerping.
to Submit. b. w. onderwerpen;
2) o. w. zich onderwerpen s
to the will of providence,
zich aan Gods wil onder
werpen.
to Subside, o. w. vallen, afne-
men; the water subsided, her
water nam af, lies af.
to Subsist, o. w. beftaan, 2) to
leven hebben; to subsist on a
thing, van iets leven.
Subsistence, z. de voortduring,
2) hot onderhoud, de levenso
middelen.
Subsiscure, z. de plaatsvervanger..
Subterráneous, bv. onderaardsch.
to Succeed, o. w. opvolgen ; one-
another, op elkander volgen,
2) fagen, gelukkig zijn in
iets; he succeeded in his endeas -
vours, hij flagde in zijne po-
gingen, 3) gelukken, it succee-
ded, het gelukte.
Succèss, het gelukkig gevolg,
goede uitſlag..
Succèssful, be gelukkig.
Succession, z. de opvolging; ◄
of the days, het vervolg van -
dagen.
Succèssive, bv. achtereenvolgendő
Such, bv. zalk; suchanoise, zalk-
een geraas.
to Suck, b en 0. w. zuigen; to
suck on, sitzuigen.
Sudden, bv. plotfelijk, OMVET-
wacht.
Suddenly, bw plotselijk, onver
wachts.
to Suffer, b. en os wo lijden, uit-
taan, 2) duiden, verdragen,
3) 1-ten, geſchieden; which be
suffered to perish, welke hij
liet omkomen.
Sufferance, z. de fiart; het om
gemak.
Sufferer, z. de lijder; these poor
sufferers deze arme ongeluk-
kigen.
·
O
US
SAF.
454
SU
SU
Suffering, z. het bijden, het on-
gemak, de fmart.
to Suffice, o. w. genoeg zijn,
toereikend zijn.
Sufficient, bv. genoeg, toeraikend.
Sufciendy, bw. genoog
kend.
Sugar, z. de fuiker.
FOOT BI-
Sugar cane, het fulkerries.
te Suggèst, b. w. ingeven, in den
zin goven, bijbrengen.
Süit, z. een kleeds a suit of
clothes, een volledig klced.
to Súit, 0.w.passen, zich ſchik
kon; 2) b. w. to suit one's pai
late,
sangenaam op de tong
zijn, wel fmaken; it suited
their strength, het was aan hun-
ne krashtem goevenredigd
Suitable, bv. ovenredig, gepast.
Sullon, bv. ongelukkig,fchadelijk
Sultry, bv. 2081, heos.
Sam's z. da fom, het geheel.
Sammer, z. de zomer.
Summer clothes, z. mv. de zomer.
kleederen.
|
Superstition, z. het bijgalanga
Superscitious, br. bijgeloovig-
dùpper, z de avondmaalrijd.
Supplicant, z. con fupplisus, iss
#ood die verzoeks of fmeeki.
to Sùpplicate, b. w. fmecken; in
a supplicating posture, in eene
fmookende houding,
to Supply, b. w. esnig gebrek
aanvullen, 2) de plaats van
iots vervangen; to supply one's
place, iemands pleats beklee.
den, 2) toereiken.
Support, z. de Roux, onderfßen-
ning, e) het onderhoud, da
noo draft.
so Support, b. w. onderßeuusn,
bijſtaan, 2.) onderhouden
voeden.
Sapportable, bv. dragelijk.
Supporter, z. de ondersteuner.
co Suppose, b. w. onderſtellon j
voor onderſiellen, a) geloover,
vermocden, wanen; bis suppo-
sed happiness, zijn gewaand
golak.
Summit, z. de top, defpits,(van Supposition, z. de voorondera
conen herg).
to Sammon, b. w. met up, opci
fchen; he summoned up all dis
strength, bij verzamelde alle
zijne krachten.
Sun, z. de zon.
Sunbeam, z. de zonnestraal.
Sànday, 2. zoudag.
Sting, o. t. van to Sing.
Sunrise, z de opgang der zon.
Sunshine, z. de zonneschiju.
Superflúity, z. de overvloed.
Supéranons, bv. overvloedig.
Superior, bv. hooger, 2) over-
treffende, meerder.
Superiority, Z de meerderhold,
2) heerschappij.
Supernatural, bv. bovennatuurlijk.
frelling..
to Suppress, b. w.onderdrukken,
nederérøkken; suppressed by
grief, door droefheid gedrakt.
Supreme, br. has, de, hoogsteg.
voornaamßte, opporfie; the so-
preme being, hes opperwezen.
Súre, bv. gewis; I am sure
$
ik
ben verzekerd; to be sure,
zakerlijk; 2) be sure to trust
in God, vertrouw boven alles
op God.
Súre, bw. zekerlijk, zonder twijfel
Surely, bw. zekerlijk, zonder
twijfel.
Surety, z. de zekerheid.
Surface, z. de oppervlakte.
Surmise, z. het vermoeden.
“
S W
455
SY
to Surmount, b. w. boven komen;
to Surpàss, b. w. overtrefin.
Surprise, z. do verbazing, ver
woedering, vorresting i to
surprise, b. w verrasfòn, 2)
verbazen, verwonderen; to be
surprised, verbaasd zijn.
Surprising, bv. vorbezend, won-
derlijk, verrasſend.
Swàm, o. t. van to Swim,
to Swear, o, w. zwoeren.
Swear, z. het zweer, the deadl
sweat, het doodzwest.
Surprising, bw. verbazend, won Sweeping, z.
derlijk, verrassend.
to Surrender, o. w. zith over-
geven.
to Surround, b. w. omringen, in-
faiten
to Sarvéy, b. w. overzien, het
opzig: hebben.
to Survive, o. w.en b. w. over-
loven
Surviver, z. de langstlevende.
to Suspect, b. w. wantrouwen,
argwaan hebben, kwaad ver-
mecden of vreezen,
Suspected, bv. verdacht.
Suspense, z. de onzekerheid.
Suspicion, z. de argwaan, ach-
terdocht.
to Sweat, ở. w. zweeted,
2.) in
het zweet, oan her zweet
zweetend maken, doen zweer
tem; to sweat the skina, de hui-
dan doen zweeten.
Sweeping, z. mv. het voegfel
ſtof (van granen, enz)
m)
Swees, bv. zeet, aangenaam.
to Swell, o, w. zwellen, opzwel,
lon, a) b. w. doen opewellen,
opblaean; when the wind swell-
ed the sail, torn de wind de
zeilen deed zwellen.
Swift, bv. fael, vlug.
Swiftness, z de fnelheid.
to Swim, o. w.zwommen, drijven.
Swimming, z. het zwemmen,
Swizzerland, Switzerland, z. Zwits
ferland.
Swúllen, dw. van to Swell.
Swoon,
2 de inmagt; he fell
into a swoon, hij vielis onmagt.
Sword, z. de degen.
Suspicions, bv. achterdochtig, Swóre, 9. t. vas to Swear.
2) verdacht.
to Sustain, b. w. onderhouden,
in ftand hondez.
Sissenance, z. de onderſtand
orderſteuning, het ouderhoud.
to Swallow, b. w. inflokkes; she
could not swallow any thing,
zij kon niess binnen krijgen,
2) (mer op), van een ofgroad,
verfioden, inzwelgev; swal-
lowed up by the waves, door de
golven ingefekt.
J
Syllable, z. cene lettergreep.
to Sympathise, o w. medegovo a»
lem, medelijden, medelijden
hebben.
Symparky, z. het madegovaol, the
delijden.
"
Symptom, z. toeval in came ziak-
to, a) iesken kenteeken
symptom of life, eon cookem
ren leven.
T.
ΤΑ
TE
Table, 2. tafel, 2) ſchrijftafel. | Task, 2, de taak, het werk.
Téil, z, de ftaart.
Tailed, bv. gestaart, met eon
ftaart a long tailed ape, cef
asp met een langen ftaart.
Tailor,
Snijder.
Ze
to Taste, b. w. proeven; 2)0. W.
4
esnon fmask (van iets) heb-
ben, naar iets fmaken.
Tasteless, bv. Smakeloos.
een kleedaymaker, | Tónight, o.t.en dw. van to Téach.
Taway, bv. geel, tanig, kopera
kleurig.
to Táins, O w. beginnen te be-
derves; the meat was alrèndy |
tainted, het vleesch was reeds
aangestoken.
་
to Take, b. w.women, weg no-
mer to take leave, affcheid
mesen; he took his aim, hij
mikiej to take a walk, a tour,,
a journey, cene wandeling, een
toerije, esno reis doen; to
take place, plaats vinden; to
take a thought, eens gedachte
hebben to take fire, vuur Dai-
ten, in brand geráken; to be
taken ill, ziek worden; to take
་
Tax, z. eene belasting.
Téa, z.
Téa, z. de thee; a dish of tea,
a cup of tea, een kopje thee.
Teacup, z. com theekopje.
to Téach, b. w. onderwijzen,les.
ren (aan iemand),
Teacher, z. de onderwijzer, leer-
meester.
Tear, z. de traan.
to Téar, b. w. ſcheuren, vera
fcheuren; to tear to pieces, iz
fiukkon fcheuren.
tɔ Téase, b. w. kwelles, plagen,
lastig vallen.
the advantage, de gelegenheid | Tédious, bv. lastig, vervelend.
waarnemen, it will take up
rauch time, het zal veel tijds
vereiſchen; to be taken with a
→
ching, zích một lots áruk be-
zig houden.
Tále, z. de vertelling.
to Talk, o. w. Spreken, praten,
babbelen.
|
Tédiousness, z. lastigheid, ver-
velendheid.
Teeth, Tov. van Tooth.
Télescope, z. de teleskoop, vET-
rekijker.
to Tell, o. en b. w.zeggen, vor•
tellen, verhalen.
Temperance, 2. de matigheid.
Tall, bv. lang, groot, (van ge Temperate, bv. matig, gematigd.
ftalte).
Tallow, z. talk, vet, smeer.
Táme, bv. tom.
to Táme, b. w. tommen $4171
maken.
Tan, z. run, looijers run.
Tanner, z. een looijer.
Tanpit, z. een looijers put.
to Tap, b w. eenen zachten flag
met de hand geven.
Tartar, z. een tartaar, (volk van
Azie).
Tempest, z. de ftorm, het on"
weder.
Temple, z. de tempel.
to Tempt, h. w. lokken, tergen,
in verzoeking brengen, vor.
leidens to be tempted to ima◄
giue, bijna denkon.
Temptation, z. verzoeking.
Tèn, bv. tion.
Ten times, tienmaal.
w. doelen,
to Tend, o.
0. W.
loopen.
aït.
*Rég•
ΤΗ
457
1
TH
Tender, bv. zacht, marw, 2),
teeder, from his tender youth,
van zijne teedore jeugd.
Tenderly, bw. tecderlijk, 2) wee·
kelijk; tenderly brought up,
weekelijk opgevoed.
Tenderness, z. teederheid.
Teneriff, z. het eiland Teneriffe,
ten westen van Afrika.
Tènt, z. de tent.
Teath, bv. tiende.
to Terminate, b. w. eindigen
aangrenzen.
Tèrrible, bv. fchrikkelijk, vrees-
felijk.
Terribly, bw.fchrikkelijk, vrees-
felijk.
to Terrify, b. w. verfchrikken,
vrees aanjagen.
Territory, z. grondgebied, land.
freek.
Terror
z. de fchrik, vreos;
struck with terror, van ſchrik
overmeesterd.
to Testify b. en o. w. betuigen,
bevestigen, getuigen.
Testimony, z. getuigenis.
Tèxt, z. de tekst. (in tegenftel
ling van de aanmerkingen).
Tèxture, z. het weeffel, maakſel.
Thámes, z. de Teems, eene ri-
vier in Engeland.
Than, (voegw. volgende op den
vergel. trap), dań.
to Thank, b. w. danken, be
danken.
Thanks, mv. dank, dankbetui-
ging to give hearty thanks, har.
telijk danken.
Thankful, bv. Zankbaar, erken-
selijk.
Thankfully, bw. dankbaar, er»
kentelijk.
That, (voegw.) opdat, dat.
Thatch, z. een ſiroodak.
The, (bepal. lidw.), de, het;
a) bij vergelijkingen ; the more,
des te meer.
Thee, (perf. voornaamw. in den
3 en 4 naamval) u.
Their, (bezittel, voornaamw.Ykun,
hunne, haur, hare, derzelver.
Them, (perf. voornaamw. in den
3 en 4 naamv.) hun, hen, haar.
Themselves, (voornaamw.) hem
zelven, hun zelven, zich.
Thèn, bw. dan, alsdan, 2)
daarom.
Thence, bw. from thence, thence,
van daar.
Thére, bw. daar; there was once
daar was eens.
Therefore, bw. daarom, deswegen,
Thereof, bw, daarvan.
Thereupon, bw. daarop.
Thése, (aanw, voornaamw. meerv,
van) this, daze.
They, (perf. voornaamw. mv.) ziją
Thick, bv. dik, digt.
Thickness, z. de dikte.
Thief, z. de dief.
Thigh, z. de dij, het dikke san
het boen; the thiglibone, hes
dijbson.
Thin, bv. dus, zwak.
Thine, voorn. de, het uwe,douwen.
Thing, z. een ding, zeker iets,
Cook even als in het hollandsch,
medelijden of verachting
sit te drukken; the poor thing
hat arme ding),
0 123
to
to Think, o. w. denken, met on,
aan iets, aar iemand;
think on a thing, on a person.
Thinking, z. het denken.
Third, bv. derde.
Thirdly, bw. sem derde, în de
derde plaats.
That, (voornaamwoord), die,
dar, 2) (in plaats van which,
who, whom,) welke, die, dien.' P p
PP
Thirst,
458
TO
TH.
Thirst, z. de dorst.
Thirsty, bv. dorstig.
Thirteenth, bv. dertiende.
Thirtieth, bv. dertigste.
Thirty, by dertig.
This, (aanw. voorn.) dit, deze.
Thither, bw. daarheen.
Tho', werkort van Though, koc-
wel, fchoon, offchoon.
Thors, z. doorn.
Thòrough, bw. door en door, door
ket geheel; a thorougbpaced
a thorougbpaced
husbandman, een door en door
ervaren landbouwer.
Thoroughly, bw, geheel on al,
door en doer.
Those, (aanw. voorn.) mv. dan
that, dio, ge12.8.
Thou, (voorn.) gij.
Though, zie Tho'.
Thought, oto en dw. van to
Think
Thought, z. de gedachte.
Thoughtless, bv. gedachteloos,
opbedachs aam.
Thousand, by. duizend.
Thread, z. garen, draad,co&W.
Threat, z. dreiging.
Threaten, b. w. dreigen, be-
dreigen
Three, by. drie.
to Thrash, trash, b. w. dorfchen.
Threw, o. t. van to Throw.
Thrice, bw, drismalen, drismeal.
Thro, in plaats van Through,
gic Through,
Thróst, 2. de keel.
Through, vz. door, door middel
yan ; 2)bw, door,door en door,
gie Thorough,
Throughout, vz, en bv. door en
door, door het geheel.
to Throw, b.w.werpen; it threw
him into a consumption, hij viel
|
daardoor in eens teringziektè,
2) Booten.
to Thrust, b. w. ftooten, fom®
pen, indringen.
Thrust, z. een foot, fomp.
Thùmb, z. de duim.
Thunder, z. de donder; thunder-
clap, donder flisg.
Thunderer, z. de donderaar.
Thursday, z. donderdag.
Thus, bv. 200
Thus, bv. zoo, alzoo, dus.
Thy, voorn. uw, awe.
Thyself, voora. gij zelf, u zelven.
Tide, z. de vloed, het tij, de
ebbc.
Tidings, z. mv. de narigt, het
berigt, de tijding.
to Tie, b. w.binden, vastbinden.
Tie, z. de band.
Tiger, z. de tijger.
Tight, bv. digt, vast,
vast, ferk,
Tile, z. de sigchel, dakpan.
Till, voegw. tot; till now, fet
na toe, tot dat.
Time, z. de tijd; the time to
come, de toekomst, 2) maal,
reis; three times, driemolon,
driemaal; five times, vijfma-
len; an hundred times,
derdmas).
hon-
Timidity, z. de befchroomdheid.
Timorous, bv. vreesachtig.
Tinder, z. ronder.
▾
to Tire, b. en o. w. vermoeijen,
moede maken, moede worden,
vervelen; to be tired of a thing,
esne zaak moede zijn.
Tiresome, bv, vervelend, lastig,
mocijalijk.
"Tie, in plaats van it is.
Title, 2. titel, cernaam, naam.
To, vz, tot, te; to day, heden,
van daag; to-morrow,
gen, e) altijd voor de onbe-
paalde wijs der werkw. als.
mor=
LO
ΤΟ
459
TR
to begin, to see, to work, to
rest.
Together, bv. te zamen.
Tóken, z. het fein, het teeken.
Túld, dw. en o. t. van to Tell.
Tolerable, bv. tamelijk, dragelijk.
Tolerably, bw. tamelijk.
to Tolerate, b. w. dulden, ver-
dragen.
Tóne, z. de toon.
Tongs, z. mr. de tong.
Tongue, z. de tong, 2) de taal.
Too, bv. ook, daarbij, daaren-
boven, er bij; voor een bijv. of
bijw.te, als: too great, se groot.
Took, o. t. vax to Take
·
•
•
Tóol, z. werktuig, gereedſchap.
Tooth, z. de tand; mv. teeth,
tanden; the wind blew in their
teeth, de wind was hun tegen.
Top, z. de top, Spits, kruin;
the top of a hill, de kruin van
eenen berg; of his: cavern
het dak van zijn hol.
Tóre, o. t. van to Tear.
Torrent, z. de ftroom; the rain
gushed down like a torrent, de
regen ftorite neder als een
Aroom.
2.
Tortoise, z. fchildpad, land-
Schildpad, de zeeschildpad heet:
eigenlijk turtle.
to Toss, b. w. heen en weer
Schokken of fingeren; the ship |
was tossed up and down, het
ſchip word op en neer geſlingerd.
Tost: dw. van to TosS.
Tótally, bw. geheellijk, gan-
fchelijk, geheel en al.
to Touch, b. w. benoeren, AaB-
raken, 2) treffen,
2) treffen, aandoening
veroorzaken, 3) 0. w. aanftoo.
tex blijven hangen, vast
>
zitten.
Touchhole, z. het zundgat.
|
|
Touchstone, z. de toetsfreen.
Tough, (uitgeſproken als tuf),
bv. taai, ftijf, 2) bij aanhou
dendheid mocijelijk ; a cough
piece of work, een zwaar,lase
tig werk.
Tour, z. eene kleine reis; to
take a tour, sen landreisje, cen
toertje doen.
Tow, z. hes werk, de ftofe waar
van een touw en kabels vero
vaardigs.
Towards, vz. maar, maar hecny
2) bw nabij.
Towel, z. de handdoek..
Town, z. de ftad.
Tdy, z. Speelgoed,
Tdy, z. Speelgoed, wisfewasjes›
Tráce, z. hat spoor."
Tract, z. Breek; a tract of land,
cenė fresk lands.
Tractable, bv. handelbaar, un
baar; a tractable animal,. sen-
handelbaar dier.s
Tráde, z. koophandel, 2) dr
broodwinning, hantering.
to Trade, o. w. handel drijver.
Trader, z. handelaar, koopman g
a Guinea trader, een Guinear
vaarder.
·
Tráin, z. het gevolg.
Traitor , z. de verrader ; ko
proved a traitor, hijwerd trou
weloos.
Trànquil, bv. gerust, fil.
Tranquillity, z. de gerustheid;-
to Transcribe, b. w. afſchrijvens-
to Transgress, b. w.over ſchrijšony
overtredan.
Transgression, Z. overtreding,
inbreuk (op cous wet of voor-
fchrift)..
Trànsitory, bv. voorbijgaande,
van korten duur.
to Transláte, b. w. vertalen's,
overzette13.
Pp 2
Trans
460
TR
TR
Translation, z. de vertaling.
Transpiration, Z. aitwaſeming ›
zwees.
to Transplant, b. w. verplanten,
overplanten3.
to Transport, b. w. vervoeron,
verplaatsen.
Transport, z. verrukking s of
joy, verrukking van blijdschap.
Tráve, z. de Trave, een vaar-
bare rivier in Holftein, voor-
bij Lubek Aroomende, aan der❤
zelyor mond bij de Oostzee ligt
Travemonde.
to Travel, o. w. reizen.
Travel, z. de landreize.
Traveller, z, de reiziger.
Trảy, 2. ben trong, bản.
Treacherously bw. verraderlijk.
to Tread, b. w. flampen; they
tread the juice out with their
feet, zij flampen er het fap
met de voeten uit.
Treasure, z. de fchat.
to Tréat. b. w. behandelen, ont-
halen; 2) 0. w. handelen.
Tréatise, z. het verdrag, 2) de
verhandeling.
Trée, z. de boom.
to Trèmble, o. w. bevon, fidderen.
Tremendous, bv. ſchrikkelijk
vreesfeliik.
>
zelachtig, ongewigtig, z. beu-
zeling.
Trigger, z. de veer waarmede
men een schietgeweer afdrukt.
Trinkets, z. mv. Speelgoed, beu-
zelingen.
Trip, z. een uitstapje; to take a
trip over to England, een togt-
je naar Engeland doen.
Trivial, bv.gering, onbeduidend.
Triumph, z. de zegepraal, het
gejuich.
Triumphant, bv. zegepralend.
Trid, trode, o. t. van to Tread,
Troop, zie Troup.
Trophy, z. zegeseeken, trofes.
Tròpice, tropick, z. de keerkrings
to Trouble, b. w. verontrusten,
Horen; 2) to trouble one's self-
about a thing, zich met iets be-
moeijen, zich aan iets gelegen
laten zijn; to trouble one's
head, zich het hoofd breken.
Trouble, z. de onrust, moeite.
verwarring; without the least
trouble, zonder eenige moeite..
Troubled, dw. troubled water,
troobel water.
Troublesome, bv. moeijelijk, lase
tig, verontrustend.
Troup, troop, z. troep, hoop,,
bende, menigte.
Trèncher, z. con houten schotel Trowel, z. een troffel.
of tafelbord.
Trial, z. de proef, beproeving.
Trikngular, bv. driehoekig.
Tribute, z. de fchatting.
Trice, z. oon oogenblik; in a tri-
ce, met eenen Sprong.
Trickle, o. w. droppelon; a
tear trickled down, cene traan
vloeide langs zijne wang.
Trifle, z bouzeling; mere trifles,
kleinigheden.
True, bv. getrouw, echt, waar;
it is true, het is waar.
Trúly, bw. waarlijk.
Trùnk, z. de ftam van Bonon
boom.
Trust, z. het vertrouwen, 2) het
ambt; places of trust cora
ambten.
to Trust, o. w. zijn vertrOUWEN -
ftellen, vertrouwen; to trust
in God, op God vertrouwen.
Trifing, by. onbeduidond, beu- Trustée, z. een vertrouweling,-
2)
TU
461
TY
2
2) iemand aan wien in iets
toevertrouwt.
Trúch, z. de getrouwheid, 2)
waarheid.
to Try, o. en b. w. beproeven,
pogen.
Tab, z. eene tobbe, ton, vat.
Tùft, z. een bosch, vlecht.
to Tumble, o. w. wentelen, tui-
melen; the storm made the rocks
tumble down, de form wierp
de rotfen neder.
Túmult, z. de verwarring, het
geraas, de oploop; a túmult of
joy, een vreugdefeest, luid-
rachtig vreugde bedrijf.
Túne, z. de wijs van een gezang;
I'll teach you the tune of it,
ik zal u de melodie, de wijs
daarvan leeren.
to Túne, b. w. femmer; tune
thou my heart to godliness, fem
mijn hart tot godvrucht..
to Turn, b. w、 wenden, draai-
jen; he turned his eyes upwards,
hij wendde zijne oogen hemel
waarts; to turn the spit, hot
Spit omdraaijen, 2) aanwen-
den; to turn to some use, for
eenig gebruik aanwenden; s)
o. w. verkeeren, veranderen;
turned into dust, sot of ver-
keerd, 4) worden; 10 taro» a
farmer, een landman worden,
5) draaigen, omkeeren; he
turned his back, hij keerdo
den rug.
Turn, z. de beurt; when it would
come to his turn, wanneer de
beurt aan hem zoude komen,
2) de verandering; a turn of
fortune, een omkeering van gs-
lak; by turns, bij afwisføling,
(beurt om beurt).
Turtle, z. de zeeschildpad..
'T was, verkort of in plaatsvag.
it was.
Twelft, bw. twaalfde..
Twelve, bv. twaalf.
Twentieth, bv. swintigfter
Twenty, bv. twintig.
Twice, bw. tweemaal..
Twig, z. de tak.
to Twist, b. w. draaijën, viétio
ten; to twist ropes, touw vlech
ten; he twisted a kind of roef,
hij vlocht eene foort van dak.
Two, (sirgefor. als Toe), bu
|
b*
twee; twolegged, tweebeenig..
Tyger, zie Tiger.
Tyranny, z. dwingelandij, 2)
wreedheid.
Tyrant, z. dwingeland, 2) wreed
card..
UN
UN
|
Umbrèlla,z de zonnescherm.parasol | Unànimous, bv. eenstemmig.
Unable, bv. oubekwaam, krach- Unanimously, bw, cenfismmit.
teloos.
Unavoidable, bv. onvermijdelijk,
Unaccomplished, bv. onvoltooid, Unavoidably, bw. onvermijdelijk.
onvolmaaks.
to Unbènd, o, w.vorſlappen, ſlap
wordes; c) b. w. ontbinder
los maken.
Unacquainted, bv. onbekend.
Unalterable, bv. onveranderlijk.
P. p. 9
Que
462
UN
UN
Unburied, bv. onbegraven.
Uncertain, bv. ongewis, onzeker.
Uncertainty, z. onzekerheid.
Unchangeable, bv. onveranderlijk.
Uncivilized, bv. onbeſchaafd, raw.
Uncle, z. de oom.
Uncommon, bv. ongewoon, zeld-
zaam.
Unconceivable, bv. onbegrijpelijk.
Unconcèrned, bv. onverſchillig,
onbekommerd.
Undamaged, bv. onbeschadigd.
Undaunted, bv. onverfchrokken.
to Undecéive, b. w. iemand uit
den droom helpen, zijne dwa
ling doen zion; he was unde-
ceived, hij merkte zijne dwa·
ling:
Under, vz. onder; to be under
the sad mistake, de treurige
dwaling begaan.
to Undergó, b. w. ondergaan,
verdragen, duiden.
Underneath, bw. onder, beneden,
om laag.
Underpart, z. het onderfte go.
deelte.
to Understand, b. w. verfiaan,
begrijpen.
Understanding, z. het verftand.
Understood, o. t. en dw. van to
Understand.
10 Undertake, b. w. ondernemen,
beproeven.
Undertaking, z. de onderneming,
de proeve.
Undertook, o. t. van to Undertake.
Underwood, z. het kreupelbosch,
kreupelhout.
Undescribable, bv. ombeſchrijfe
lijk, beter not to be described.
Undetermined, bv. omboflist, 2)
befluiteloos.
Undissèmbled, bv. ongeveinsd.
Wadisturbed, bv. ongestoord.
to Undo,bw.vernielen,vernietigens
Undone, vas to Undo,ongelukkig..
Undoubtedly, bw. ontwijfelbaar,.
zonder twijfel.
to Undrèss, b. w. ontkleeden,.
uitkleeden.
Unéasy, bv. ongerust, bekom-
merd; about a thing,
gens iets.
We •
Unemployed, bv. ledig, werken-
loos, niet bezig.
Unéqual, bv. ongelijk.
Unéven, bv. oneven, oneffon, ono
gelijk, hobbelig.
Unexpected, bv. onverwacht.
Unexpectedly, bw. onverwacht.
Unexpérienced, bv. zonder onder--
vinding, onervaren.
Unfaithful, bv. ongetroaw, troue.
weloos, verraderlijk.
Unfeéling, bv. gevoelloos, onge
voolig.
Unfinished, bv. ongeeindigd, ono
voltooid.
Unfit, bv. ongeschikt; unfit for
use, niet te gebruiken.
Unforeseen, bv. onvoorzien.
Unfortunate, bv. ongelukkig.
Unfortunately, bw. ongelukkiglijk.
Unfriendly, bv. onvriendelijk, om.
barmhartig.
Uafruitful, bv. onvruchtbaar.
to Unfurl, b. w.ontvouwen, ont-
rollen; to unfurl a sail, eer
zeil ontrolles.
Ungrateful, by ondankbaar.
Ungratefully, bw. op eene ondanko.
bare wijze.
Unhappily, bw. ongelukkiglijk,
bij ongeluk.
Unhappiness, z. ongeluk, ellende..
Unhappy, bv. ongelukkig.
Unheard, bv. ongehoord; thy song
is nor unheard, gij blijft niets
ongehoord..
CAS
UN
403:
UP
Uahurt, bv.onbeschadigd, onbezeerd Unspeakably, bw. onuitfprekelijk.
Uniform, bv. eenvormig, regel-Unsteady, bv. onbestendig, wan-
matig.
Uninhabited, bv. onbewoond.
Uninterrupted, bv. onafgebroken.
to Unite, b. w. vereenigen, ver-
binden; united by the ties of
nature, door de banden der na-
tuar vercenigd.
Waity, z. de eenheid', 2) sendragt;
to live in perfect unity, in vol-
komen eensgezindheid leven.
Universal, bv. algemeen.
Universe, z. het heelal.
Unknown, bv. onbekend, vreemd.
Unlawful, bv. onwettig, onwet-
télijk.
Unlèss, voegw. ten zij, ten wa-
re; unless he mended, ten. Wa-
re hij zich beterde.
Valike, bv. ongelijk, 2) onwaar.
Schijnlijk.
Unluckily, bw. bij ongeluk, on-
gelukkiglijk.
Unlucky, bv. ongelukkig.
Unmanned, bv. orbemand; an un-
manned ship, een onbemand fchip.
Unnecessary, bv. onnoodig,
Unnoticed, bv. onbemerkt.
Unobserved, bv. onbèmerkt.
to Unpack, b. w. aitpakken, oni-
pakkes.
kelend, zwak; unsteady on his
legs, oxvast op zijne beenon,
wankelende.
Unsuccèssful, bv. vruchteloos,
verongelukt, mislukt.
Uniáught, bv. ongeoefend, onges-
fchikt, ongeleerd.
Until, bw. rot, tot aan.
Untó, zie To..
Untried, by onbeproefd.
Unvaluable, bv. onschatbaar:
Unwarrantable, bv. onverantwoord.
delijk, 2) ongewaarborgd.
Unwholesome, bv. ongezond, na-
deelig.
Unwilling, bv. onwillig; he was-
unwilling to do that, hij was
daar tegen, hij wilde dat niet
doen, hij had daar geen zin
in, hij deed dat niet gaar..
no, enz.
Unworthy, bv. onwaardig, niets
waardig, lacg, verachtelijk.
Up, bw. op; Robinson grew up,
R. groeide op; they come nea-
rer up with her, zij naderen.
het schip, up to the sky, for
aan de wolken; 2) up, vz. op.
to Upbraid, b. w. befchuldigen,
verwijten, bekijven.
Unparalleled, bv. onvergelijke-Upholsterer, z. een aitdrager,
lijk weergaleos.
Unpolluted, bv. onbevleks, reis,
zuiver.
Unprovided, bv. onverzorgd:
Unreasonable, bv. onredelijk, on-
verftandig.
Unreasonably, bw. onverſtandig-
lijk; to act unreasonably, zom.
der verſtand te werk gaan.
Unsáfe, bv. onveilig, onzeker,
gevaarlijk.
Wushattered, bv. omboſchadigd.
PA
behanger.
to Uplife, b. w. opheffen; with
mplified hands, mos opgeheven
handen.
៩-
Upòn, vz. op, om; upon some:
business, om eenige bezigheid,
zaak; upon which, waarop ;
the one lives upon the other, ds-
cene leeft van den anderen.
Upper, bv. the upper part, hot
bovenfte gedeelre; the upper
shell, de buiten ſchelp.
Upe
464
UT
US
Uppermest, bv. het hoogte.
Uproar, z. het oproer, de op-
fand, het geraas; nature seem-
ed to be in an uproar,
de ge.
heele natuur schijnt in opftand
so zijn.
plegen, 4) uitoefenen, maken;
be used gestures, hij maaktei
gebaren.
·
Used, bv. gewoon (van use); not
used to all this, aan dit alles
niet gewoon.
Upwards, upward, bv. boven, Useful, bv. bruikbaar, nuttig.
*meer, verder.
to Urge, b. w. aansporen, aan-
drijven; urged by hunger, door
den honger gedrongen..
Usefulness, Z.- nus, nuttigheid.
4
Useless, bv. nutteloos..
Usual, bv. gebruikelijk, gewOOM.
Usually, bw. gewoonlijk.
Us, (perfoonl. voorn.) ons ; 3 en 4 Utensil, z. gereedschap, werktuig.
naamv., van we, wij.
Use, z. het gebruik, hat nu?;
་
to be of use, nuttig zijn.
to Use, b. w. gebruiken, 2) ge-
wennen, 3)0. w. gewoon ziju,
་
Utmóst, bv. siterst; the utmost
verge, de uiterfie rand, 2)
hoogst, in den hoogften grasd.
to Utter, b. w. uiten; to utter a
word, een woord uitſpreken.
•
VA
VE
Väin, bv. ijdel, onbeduidend, | Váríable, by. veranderlijk, om-
vergeefsch; 2) bw. in vain
vergeefs.
-
Valet, z. bediende, knecht.
>
z. kamer-
Valet de chambre, z.
dienaar.
Valiant, bv. dapper, moedig.
Valley, z. een dal.
Valour, z. depperheid,
Vàluable, bv. ſchatbaar, achting-
waardig.
Value, z. de waarde, de prijs.
to Value, b. w. waarderen,
Schatten, 2) op prijs Hellen,
hoog achten.
Vanilla, z. de vanilje.
to
Vanish, o, w. verdwijnen,on-
zigtbaar worden.
Vanity, z. de ijdelheid.
to Vanquish, b. w, overwinnes,
badwingen.
Vapour, z. damp, waſem、
bestendig.
Variety, z, verſcheidenkoid..
Various, bv. onderfcheiden; va•
rious colours, verſchillende
kleuren.
ら
​Vassal, z. een vasfaal, vazal,.
lijfeigene, dienstpligtige,
dienstman, leonman.
Vast, bv. groot, wijd, uitger
Atrekt, a vast quantity, eens
groete menigte.
Vault, 2. een gewelf.
Vèhemesce, z. de hevigheid, o
fuimigheid, nadruk.
Véhicle, z. een rijtuig.
| Véin, Z. de adér, bloedadèr.
Velocity, z. de ſnelheid.
Venerable, bw. eerwaardig.
•
·
oy
| Vènt, z. de opening, uitgang y
licht of luchtgat.
to Vent, b. w, uitlaton; to vens
sighs
VI
465
VO
sighs, zachten lozen, fte-
nen.
to Venture, b. w. wagen, moed
hebben; 2) to venture from one's
habitation, to venture out, het
wagen zijne woning te veria-
ten, uit te gasn.
|
het zien; a new obstacle start-
ed in view, een nieuwe hin-
derpaal liet zich zien, deed
zich op.
Vigorously, bv. krachtdadiglijk•
Vilage, z. con dorp.
Villain, z. een booswicht.
Verdure, z. het groen, het len- Vine, z. de wijnfick.
tegroen
Vèrge, z. de rand, de grens-
fcheiding; the utmost verge,
het uiterße einde.
Vèrse, z. een vers.
Very, bv. bw. waar
om bw, waar, werke-
lijk, herzelfde; at that very
time, juist op dien tijd; for
that very reason, juist om die
reden; with the very first ship,
met hat allereerfte fchip, the
very same, juist de (het) zelf
de; very right, zeer juist,
very true, zeer waar; very
fine, zeer fraai.
Vessel, z. een vat, vaatwerk;
a milk vessel, een melkpot, 2) |
en fchip, vaartuig; by the
very first vessel, met het aller-
eerfte fchip..
Vice, z de ondeugd, 2.) elke
misflag of foat die sos.gewo 0 1% •
te ontaard is.
Vicious, bv. endeugendi.
Vicissitude, z. latwisfeling, wis-
felvalligheid
Victim, z. flagtoffer.
Victor, z. de overwinnaar.
Victórious by. overwinnend..
Victory, z. de overwinning.
Victuals, z. m. levensmiddelen.
to Vie, o. w. wedijveren.
to View, b. w bezien, bezigti.
gen, befchouwen.
View, z. het uitzigt, 2)de aas.
blik; to take a view of a thing,
iess bozigtigon, 3) het gezigt,
Vineyard, z. de wijngaard, wiju-
berg.
Violence, z. het gewald.
Violent, bv. hevig, geweldig.
Violently, bw. hevig, geweldig.
Virtue, z. de deugd, 2) goede
oigenſchap, kracht, hes vere
mogen.
Virtuous, bv. deugdzaam.-
Visibly, bw. zigtbaarlijk, open“
baar, oogenſchijnlijk.
Visit, z. het bezoek; to pay
visit, een bezoek afleggen.
Vitreous bv. van glas, vero,
glaasd, glasachtig.
Victuals, zie Victuals.
Vogue, z. zwang, gebruik; to
be io vogue,
in zwang zijn.4.
gewoon zijm
•
Voice, z. de fem, de toon der-
fem.
Volcáno, z. de vaurberg, veure
Spuwende berg, volkaen.
Volley z. cene lading,volle laag,.
Voluntary, bv. vrijwillig, onge.
dwongen.
Volume, z. het boek, 2) hear
deel, (van een werk of bock)...
to Vòmit, o. w.
w. braken, Spac
wan, 2) b. w. uitſpuwon; to
vomit stones, Feonen uitwerpen
Vomiting, Z. het braken, site.
werpen.
to Vow, b. w. belooven, plegti..
ge gelofte doen.
Voyage, z. de zeereis; the history-
of voyages, de reisbeſchrijving..
P p 5
W.
WA
WA
AANN. Na de w wordt de a meestal breed uitgesproken, iets tus-
de w zelve words met eene expiratie uit
geſproken, bijna als oew.
fchen o en a;
to Wáde, o. w. waden, door-
nvader.
to Wag, b. w. bewegen; he wag-
ged his tail, hij kwispalde' mat
den ftaart.
Wager, z. de weddingschap; for
a wager, om eene weddingfchap.
to Wail, o. w. klagen, trouren.
Waist, z het onderlijf.
to Wait, b. w. wachten; supper
waits! aan tafel! 2) 0. w.
wachten, mat for, op iets
wachten.
+
to Wake, o: w. waken, wakker
worden; 2) b. w.wekken, wak,
ker maken.
to Walk, o. w: gaan, wandelen.
Walk, z. de wandeling, 2) wan-
dalplaats.
Wall. z. de muur, wal, wand.
to Wander, (de a luidt, in dit
en verfcheidane volgende woor
den, even als in het hollandsch);
`o. w, wandeløn, zwerven ;
his
eyes were wandering, zijne 00
gen weidden rond
to Want, b. w. behoover, noo-
dig hebben, 2-) gebrek aan iets
hebben; what do you want?war
ontbreekt u? 3) o. w. verlan
gen, wenschen, willen; I
wanted to have one, ik wilde
er een hebben.
.
Want, z. de behoefte; we have
many wants, wij hebben vele
Behoeften; to be in want of a
thing, iets noodig hebben, 2)
het gebrek; for want of, bij
gebrek van.
War, z. de oorlog.
Ward, z. de wachter, behoeder,
voogd.
Wardance, Z. de oorlogsdans van
wilde volken.
Wårlike, bv. oorlogzuchtig.
Warm, bv. warm, 2) hartelijk:
innig.
to Warm, b. w: warmen.
to Warn, 6. w. waarschuwen,
vermanen.
to Warp, b. w. bij wevers, di
ketting maken; van daar:
warping bar, weversboom; ge-
woonlijk warpingloom.
Warrier, warrior, z. een krijgs.
127.
•
Was, o. t. van to Be, was, word.
to Wash, b. w. wasſchen; 2) to
be washed over board, over
boord gespoeld worden.
Wasp, z. de wesp.
Wast zɩ onkelvoud van de o. to
van to Be, waart, (gij waart).
to Watch, b. w. bewaken; 2) 0.
w waken.
Watchman, z. de nachtwaker,2)
wacht, fchildwacht.
Watchroom, z. de waakkamer,
2) de wachtkamer.
Water, z. het water.
to Water, b. w. begieten, be•
Sproeijen; to water the plants,
de planten begieten; 2)0. w. his
mouth watered, hij watertandde.
WA
WE
467
WH
Watering pot, Z. de gielemmer,
Waterspout, z. een wolkbreak,
waterhoos.
Wave, z. de golf, baar.
Wáy, z. de weg; this way, hier
heen; by the way, onder weg,
2) het middel; by this way,
door dit middel, hier door, $)
de handelwijze; you shall have
your own way, gij zult de han-
den vrij hebben, gij kunt doen
zoo als gij wilt, 4) de wijzs,
manier: our way of living, on-
ze leefwijze ; io the wrong
way, op seno verkeerde wijze;
our way of killing animals, on
ze manier van dieren te flag-
ten; 5) met Zamenstelling, to
give way, wijken; this or that
way, zoo of anders; to be in
one's way, iemand in den weg
(hinderlijł) zijn ; to make one's
way, zijn fortuin maken, wo!
door de wereld komen.
We, (perfoonl. voorn.) wij.
Wéak, bv. zwak, krachteloos.
Weakness, z. zwakheid.
to Wean, b. W ontwennen.
Speenen.
Weapon, z. het wapen, gewser.
to Wear, b. w. dragen, bij zich
dragen; 2) 0. w. afnemen, af-
dragen, affijten, gewoonlijk
met out, he was so worn out,
hij Was zoo afgemat, zoo
krachteloos; his clothes were
worn out, zijne kleederen wa-
ren afgeſloten.
to Weave, b. w. weven.
Wéavor, z. de wever.
Web, z. het weeffel, de gewas
ven stof.
Wedge, z. een brockijzer.
Weed, z. het onkruid.
•
to Weed, b. w onkruid uittrek-
ken, wieden.
Week, z. de week.; in three weeks
time, in den tijd van drie wes
ken, binnen drie weken.
to Wéep, b. w. weenen, ſchreijen.
to Weigh, b. w. wegen, 2) op-
heffen; to weigh anchor, het
anker ligtes; 3) 0. w. wegen.
Weight, z. zwaarte, gewigt; of
Dear one hundred weight, vas
&e honderd ponden zwaar.
+
het
Welfare, z. de welvaart,
welzijn het geluk.
Well, z. de bron, wel.
Well, bw. wel, goed, 2) ak
tusfchenw., wel nu, gesd.
Weat, o. t. van to Go.
Wept, o. t. van to Weep.
Were,
o. t. van to Be, as i
were, als het ware.
Wèst, bv. westelijk, ten westem
gelegen.
Westward, bw. ten westen.
Wét, bv. nat, vochtig.
While bone, z. balein, wat,
vischbaard.
What, (voorn.) heiwelk, dat s
2) tusfchenw. hoe! wat!
Whatever, (voorn.) was ook.
Wheat, z. tarwe.
Wheel, z. con wiel of rad.
Wéaried, bv. maede, afgemat, Wheelbarrow, z. kruiwagen.
vermoeid.
Weariness, z. vermoeidheid.
Weary, b. v. en o, w. vermoeid,
vermosijen ; to weary one's
eyes, zijne oogen vermosijen,
Weather, z. het weder.
Wheelwright, z. wagenmaker,
radenmaker.
Whèn, bw. wauneer, als, indieu.
Whence, bw, van waar.
Whènever, bw. wanneer ook, zaa
dikwijls als.
Where
468
WI
WH
Where, bw, waar, daar, 2) Wickedness. z. onzedelijkheid,
waar?
Whereabout, bw. waaromtrent,
Whereas bw. waarentegen, daar
integendeel, terwijl integen-
deel, terwijl.
Whereof, bw. waaryan.
Whereupon, bw, waarop.
to Whèt, bw. wetten.
Whether, b. w. of.
Whetstone, z. de fijpfteen.
Which, (voorn.) welk, welke,
welken, herwelk.
While, z. da tijd, wijl; a while,
2
een tijälang; all this while,
dezen ganschen tijd; mean
while, intasfchen; to thick it
worth the while, het der moci
te waardig achten; not yet a
while, op verre na nisi, nog
lang niet.
While, bw. gedurende, terwijl.
Whilst, bw. gedurende, terwijl.
terwijk
Whim, z. de inval, luim, gril.
to Whine, o w. hailen, wecnen.
to Whirl, b. w. ſnel omdraaijens
2) o. w. dwarrelex; a whirling
storm, een orkaan; a whirl.
wind, een dwarrelwind.
to Whisper, o. w. fluisteren.
White, bv. with
Whitish bv. witachtig.
Whỏ, (uitgeſpr. als hoe), voorn.
wie, welke.
Whoever, voorn.. wie ook, ic-
dør die.
Whole, z. ket geheel, alles.
Wholesome, bv. gezond, heil
zasm, e) nuttig, voordeelig.
Wholly, bw geheel en al.
Whóm, accuſativ. van Who.
Whose, genitiv. van Who.
Why, bw. hos, waarom? 2) ei,
wel nu.
goddeloosheid.
Wide, bv. wijd, breed, uitge-
Areks.
to Widen, b. w. verwijden, vers
breeden, vergrooten.
Widow, z. wedaws.
Wife, z. getrouwde vrouw.
Wild, bv. wild, woest.
Will, z. de wil; he bad his own
will, hij had zijn eigen wil.
to Will, b. w. willen, 2) als
hulpwerkwoord vormt het dem
toekomenden tijd, en besee-
kond alsdan zullen.
willig,
Willing, bv. gonegon
willens.
Willingly,
willig.
Willow, z. wilgen boom; a wil-
bw. gaarne, vrij-
low tree.
Wind, z. de wind.
to Wind, b. w. draaijen, win.
den, emwinden; 3) o. w. zich
draaijen, wonden; winding
down this way, dezen weg heer
draaijende.
Windmill, z. windmolen.
Window, z. het venfter.
Wine, z. de wijn; a wine press,
cene wijnpers.
Wing, z. de vleugel.
Wink, z. de oogweak; he could
not got a wink of sleep, hij
kon geen oog toedoen; ook no
wink of sleep befriended his eyes.
to Wink, o. w. wenken, toom
wenken..
Winter, z. de winter; winter was
at hands, de winter was op han-
den.
to Wipe, b. w. afwisschen, af-
droogen.
Wire, z. ijzer of koperdraad.
Wicked, by, ondeugend, goddeloos. Wisdom, z. de wijsheid.
Wi-
WO
469
WO
Wise, bv. wijs.
Wisely, bw. wijsfelijk.
Wish, z. de wensch.
to Wish, o. en b. w. wenfchen.
Wished for, gewenscht; the long
wished for daylight, het lang
gewenschte daglicht.
Wit, z. de geest, het vernæfi,
het verftand; to be out of one's
wits, buiten zinnen zijn.
Witch, z. tooveres, heks.
Witchcraft, z. tooverij, hekſerij.
With, vz. met, 2) bij; with him,
with us, bij hem, ons; 3) he
did not know what to do with
himself for fear, hij wist van
vrees niet, waar hij blijven
zoude.
to Withdraw, b. w. terug trek-
ken;
to withdraw one's hand,
zijne hand aftrekken; 2)0. w.
terug gaan, weg gaan.
Withe, z. het wilgen takje.
to Wither, c. w. verdorran; a
withered tree, een verdorde
boom.
to Withhold, b. w. serag houden.
Vichlo, vz. en bw. binnen, in;
within himself, bij zich zelven.
Without, vz. zonder, 2) buiten;
3) bw. buiten; from without,
van buiten.
to Withstand, b. w. wederftaan;
the temptation, de verzoe-
king wederflaan.
Withstanding, z. de tegenstand.
Witness, z. de getuige, 2) het
getuigenis.
Wives, mv. van Wife, getrouw-
de vrouwen.
Wizard, z. een toovenaar hek-
fenmeester.
Woe! (tusfchenw.) wee!
Woeful, bv. treurig, droevig.
Wolf, z. de wolf.
Woman, z. de vrouw.
Womanish, bv. verwijfi.
Women, (pr. Wimmen), mv,
van Woman, prouwen; an old
women story, een oudewijvez
praatje.
to Wònder, (met at), 0. w.ver-
wonderen over iets.
Wonder, z. het wonder, hetgens
waarover men zich verwoe-
dert, 2) de verwondering, 3)
wonderwerk, mirakel; what in
the name of wonder, was om 's
hemels wil.
Wonderful, bv. wonderbaar,won.
derlijk, bewonderenswaardig.
Wouderfally, bw. wonderbaar-
lijk, verwonderlijk.
Wondrous, bv. verwonderlijk.
Won't, verkort van will not.
Wood, z. het woud, het bosch,
2) het hour.
Wooden, bv. hosten, van hout.
Woodlouse, z. houtluis, woud.
luis.
Woodworm, z. houtworm.
Woódy, bv. boschacktig.
Woof, ż. het weeffel, bij we.
vers de inflag.
Wool, z. de wol.
Woolly, bv. wellig; woolly hair,
wollig haar, kroes haar.
Word, z. het woord; in a word,
met sen woord, 2) de nsrigt;
to bring, to send word to one,
iemand narigt geven, hem
doen weten, ham melden.
Wore, o. t. van to Wéar.
to Work, o. en b. w. werken,
arbeiden; his brains worked,
bij brak zich het hoofd; to
work out a hollow place, wit.
graven, uitwerken; to work
on, voortwerken.
Werk,
0470
WR
WR
¡
Work, z het overk, de arbeid.
World, z. de wereld.
Worm, z. de worm.
དྷྭ་
Worn, dw. van to Wéar.
Worse, bv. vergelijkenda trap
van bad, erger, ſlechter...
Worship, z. hulde, eerbewij-
zing; to pay divine worship,
godsdienftige eer besoonen.
Worst, bv. overtreffende trap
van bad, flechtfte, ergfte.
Worth, by. waardig, waard; to
think it worth one's while, he
de moeite waardig keure32.
Worthy, bv, waardig.
Would, o. t. vas to Will, wil
J
de; als hulpwerkw. vorme het
den voorwaardelijken tijd, on
beteekent zo ude; what he would
be good for, waarvoor hij goed
zoude wezen,2) gewoon zijn,
plegen; the father would tell
them stories, de vader pleegde
hen vertelfeltjes te verhalen.
Wound, (ſpr. woeud), z. sene
wonde.
met up), wrapt up in a cloak
in eenen mantel gewikkeld, ge-
huld.
Wieck, z. wrak.
+
to Wrest, b. w, met geweld ont-
nemen, wringen; be wrested
the sword out of his band, hij
ontwrong hon den degen.
Wrètch, z. een ongelukkige, el-
lendige 2) een deugniet, la.
ge zie!.
Wretched, bv. ellendig, onge
lukkig; your wretched son, uw
ongelukkige zoon; wretched
too's, ellendig gereedschap.
to Wring, b. w. worfielen; wris
gen; to wring one's hands, de
handen wringen, 2) ontwringen
to Write, b. w. ſchrijven; the
father wrote it down, de vader
fchreef het op.
Writing, z. het ſchrift ; the
writings, de papieren, fchriften.
Written, dw. yan to Write.
Wrong, bv.
Wrong, bv. verkeerd; in the
wrong way, verkoordelijk.
to Wound, b. w. kwetfen, Wrong, z. het onregt, het on-
wonder.
Wound, (Spr. wound), dw.yan
to Wind.
Wrack, wreck, z. wrak, over-
blijffel van een ſchip; ship.
wreck, Schipbreuk.
to Wrap, b. w. zamenrollen, op-
rollens wikkelen, (gemeenlijk
geluk, 2) de dwaling.
to Wrong, b. w. krenken, be.
leedigen, verongelijken.
Wróce, o. t. van to Write.
Wrought, o. t. van to Work,
Wrùng, o. t. van to Wring.
Wry, bv. averegts, fchoof; a
wry face, een scheef gezigt.
1
#
YA
Yacht, (pr. jati), z. een jacht,
boeijer, klein vaartuig.
Yard, z. eën hof, binnenhof, 2)
0.07/0 maat van drie voetom,
cene al,
*
YE
Yarn z. het garen.
to Yawn, o. w. geeuwen.
Ye, in plaats van you, gij.
Year, z. het jaar.
to
YO
471
YO
to Yell, o. w. huilen, laid Yoke, z. het juk.
fchreeuwen.
Yellow, bv. geel.
Yes, bw. ja.
Yesterday, z. de dag van gister
ren, gisteren.
Yon, yonder, bw. ginds.
You, voorn. gij, น
Yoùng, bv. jong; a young man,
esn jongeling.
Younger, bw. jonger; Robinson
the younger, Robinſon de jonge,
Yóar, (voorn. van bezitting),
aw, alieder.
Yesterni, ht, z. gisteren avond.
Yet, voegw. echter, toch, even
wel; 2) bw, nog; not yet, nog
niet; as yet, voor het tegen-Yourself, voorn. gij zelf, u zel
woordige.
ven, a, het mv. is yourselves.
to Yoke, b. w. aan het juk Span- | Youth, z. de jeugd, 2) een jon
nen, aanspannen.
geling.
ZE
Zéal, z. de ijver, hartstogtelij-
ke neiging tot iets; with fer-
Z E
vent zeal, met brandenden if ver.
Zéslous, bv. ijverig.


By den Uitgever dezes zijn gedrukt en alom
te bekome
J. P. Jungst, Lexicon Latino-Belgicum ex majori
Schelleriano aliisque contractum in usum studiosae
juventutis. Met eene voorrede vu Prof. H. Bosscha.
Frieseman, nieuw Nederduitsch-Latijnsch Woor-
denboek, 2 declen.
Neues deutsch-holländisches und holländisch-dent-
sches Handworterbuch, 2 Theile.
Jacobs, Grielsch Leesboek voor eerstbeginnenden,
ten gebruike der Latijnsche scholen, a stukjes,
2de druk.
Bröder, Latijnsch Leesboek voor eerstbeginnen-
den, ten gebruike der Latijnsche scholen
Döring, Vertalingsproeven voor meer gevorderde
leerlingen in de Latijnsche taal, je doel met een
Voorrede voorzien van Prof. H. Bassche, het 20
deel bewerkt door BF Nagel, vector te Thiel
bebe.zende eene korte schets der Romeinsche geschie-
denis, van de stichting der stad tot den ondergang
des Westerschen
stad tot de
keizerrijks.
The Polite Preceptor, or a collection of entertai-
ning and instructive essays, selected from te best
english Writers.
mug
F. Gedile, Engelsch Leesboek voor eerstbeginnen-
et een Engelsch-Hollandsch Woordenboek,
ɔde a uk.
J. V. Meidinger, Fransche Leesoefeningen, geschikt
om in het Nederduitsch te vertalen, ade druk.
Lettres pour de jeunes gens, à l'usage des écoles.
histoire abrégée de Robinson Crusoe, urtagée en
legons, et destinée à être traduit Hollvidais, 20
édition.
J. V. Meidinger, meuwe beoefenende Hoogduit-
sche Spraakkunst.
G. W. Lehman, Handbuch der deutſchen Spra-
che, enthaltend Auszüge aus den besten Klassischen
Schriftstellern und Dichtern der Deutschen.