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THE HISTORY
O
R 0 8 ºf $ 0 ºf
FOR THE USE OF
Y(DUNT(t) Pºlºš(DNS
BIJ
TMR. J. H. C.A.M.P.H.
TRANSLATED
FROM THE GERMAN,
REVISED AND Corth ECTED, To WHICH IS ADDED
A DUTCH EXPLANATION OF THE WORDS.
New Edition.
U tre c ht
PRINTED BIJ PETIT & Co.
**=
1 8 4 7.
Hwbbard.
Tºmat. Waq.
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$332
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De Robinſon van CAMPE is algemeen met lof
bekend. De belangrijkheid van het onderwerp en
de bevalligheid van deszelfs voordragt, zulke we-
zenlijke vereischten in een leesboek voor jonge
lieden, hebben dat werkje tot eene geliefkoosde
lektuur gemaakt, niet ſlechts voor de Duitſche
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 Rob?rz-
ſon in het Engelsch bleef nog eene behoefte. Het
zij vooringenomenheid met den Engelſchen Ro-
binſon Cruſoe , 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-
mens, om zelf in die behoefte te doen voor-
zien, en had de taak tot dat einde reeds aan
een kundig man opgedragen, toen hij Vernam,
dat er in Duitschland zoodanig eene overzetting
' beſtond, welke, na onderzoek, bleek, vrij wel
uitgevoerd te zijn, #
-ºv- g De-,
5 -, S- T.,". * . E*T*#X : > :,-------- T 7,7:: er stº , " ' . "' ' ' - 5k »k * * * - # : -g- - ºrt - Ex 3 ' - 'A-,-,' • • - - - - - - - - "Tºta:"","
g: "W ON TO R B E R I G T. "
* - ' - "W - . . - ! 4. "-w -,
« -, -G
Deze overzetting is in den tegenwoordigen. En-
€ elſchen druk gevolgd, maar nagezien en verbe-
terd, daar waar de zin van het Hoogduitsch eene
andere, meer eigenaardige, omzetting in het En-
• • gelsch vorderde. Verder heeft men de , onder
elke bladzijde geplaatſte, phraſeologie vervangen
door een woordenboekje, achter aan het werkje
gevoegd : iets dat ter aanwakkering van de vlijt
der jonge lieden, op het voetſpoor der leesboe-
ken van den beroemden GEDICKE, oneindig veel
gepaster is.
Dat, voor het overige, dit Leesboek, hetwelk
benevens het Engels ch 1 e esboek van GE-
DICKE (waarvan bij den Uitgever dezes een twee-
de verbeterde druk uitgegeven is), als leesboe-
ken voor eenen eerſten curſus der Engelſche taal,
t1
inzonderheid geſchikt zijn, en met veel voordeel
- door de jeugd, in hunne oefening van het En-
gelsch op de ſcholen, moge gebruikt worden,
is de hartelijke wensch van den
S
sºn
Uitgever.

P R E F A C E.
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
use , which according to my wishes should be
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.
when they are chearful and gay, nor do I
doubt , but I have tolerably atºined this my
first view. A
In the second place, I designed to annex to
the thread of the narration, which forms the ba-
sis of this book, so much elemental 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
4 T R E F A C E.
occurring in domestic life, in nature, and in the
extensive circle of ordinary human activity, with-
out which every other instruction resembles a
bailding without foundation. +
Thirdly, I intended occasionally to insert ma-
my 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 Robins on 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 Rob in so n 's history, in
eomposing 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,
dapted 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 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 giye it into the hands of those children only,
wo have already acquired a competent fluency in
reading. . . . … . . ... . . . . . . . . . .
My fifth view, had reſerence to the now raging
epidemic, mental disease, y. which for some years
has caused such dreadful depredations on all our
bodily and mental faculties, to the visible dimi-
mution 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 s. aš. to be, no longeria, 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-
fall 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 souri, offspring , which would have render'd
the next generation just as, sickly, in mind and
body, as enerwated, as dissatisfied with them-
selves, with the world, and with divine provi-
dence as the present. Whilst I was considering
what mist prove the most efficacions antidote
rx
ſº * 5 against
6 P R E F A C E.
*gainst 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
chèdren 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,
but might lead to immediate activity ; a book,
tliat might direct the inclination-, which young
children have , to imitate every thing they see
or hear, (which inclination is the first that ari-
ses in us) towards those objects, which proper-
ty belong to our destination, I allude to inven-
tions and occupations to supply our natnral 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 Santástic”, 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.
P R E F A & F. ºr ,
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 — 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 2 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 , ,
auch better than you would have done, at least.
** with:
8 P R E F A 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 he 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 wiłł serve as a touchstone
to our imagination , and as ſong as onr taste
be uncorrupted, the perusing of it will always
delight us, What then, may this wonderful
book be 2: t . . . . . . . . . . . . ! - ; :
– It is A riºs to tre, Pliny, Buffon 2 –
No, it is Robins on Crusoe.”.
., R. ob in S on t}r us ore, 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 , , which at first
served me as a comparison only. This situation,
I must confess, ... is not that of a social man, and
- . . . . . . . . . . pro-
*) In this Mr. Rºo us sea n is mistaken. Old Robinson had saved a
number of tools from, the wreck, whercas our younger Robinson had Îic-
thing but his lands and his lºcad, to provide for his subsistence.
P R E F A C E. + 9
probably will never be E mile '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
overy thing so, as such a man would have done
with regard to his owns interest.”
,, This novel then , disencumbered of all its
superſluities, beginning at Rob in son's ship-
wreck near his island , and ending , with the
arrival of the ship he embarks in , will during,
the time in question here, be Emi Fe’s amu-
sement and instruction. I’ll have his head turns
giddy with it, see him busied with his castle,
goats and plantations, I’ll have him hearn mi-
nutely , not from books, but from the things.
themselves', what to do in the like situation.”
Let him fancy himself in Robins on ’s place,
cloathed , like him , in skins, wearing a great
oap, 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’ll.
have him examine the conducts of his hero, exa--
mine whether he has not neglected any thing ;
whether he night not have arranged some things,
* 5. * - bets-
T.O P. R. E. F. A. C. E. -
better; I'll have him be a strict observer of all
Robin so m 's faults, and learn how to avoid them,
were he in the same situation. For there is not the
Jeast 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.” { ... "
Thus far Rousse a u. -
And has this wonderful book, we hitherto seem-
ed to want, been in the world these many years?
– Yes! and no I. According as cither the general
idea, or the execution of such a book be meant.
The former (which Rousse au speaks of), does
exist, has long existed, and its title is Rob in-
s on Cru so e ; 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
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 Robin son, 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 Rob in son'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;
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 2
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



$2 P R E. F. A. C. E. "
the necessaries of life, to cnhance the value of so
many ºthings, 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 o
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
ºetween 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 read
than compose artificial dialogues.
ſºº-qº@@-QQQ-2-1}Q-33 (£ $23).
R O B I N S O N
T H E Y O U N G E R.
& §
} .
There was 1) once a numerous farāºy, consisting *
young and elderly people. These were 3) closely º -
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 friegºs 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 mone
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
bear 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 83 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) wiłł, 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
heart,” was the answer; x 3 but it were a pity, to paſs so
fine an evening in dºing nothing, but looking through
the windows. Come, let tº sit down on the graſsplat l”
º, Oh that's fine, **) fine?" they all cried, running hasti-
º of doors. *
*2) to have. 10 ) to forget.
F I R S T

F I R S T E W E N I N G,
Zºilº. Here, Papa? -
Father. Yes, here under this apple - tree.
IYtchodas. Oh, excellent : *
4!!. Excellent, most excellent 1
(Jumping about and clapping their hands, X -
**er. 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 7
John. No, if we had but something to do. .
*other. Here are 11) pease to shell! Here are french
beans to string 1 who will have any? '--
All Iſ It Iſ It
Theophilus. I and my Charlotte, and you Frederict will
shell pease, shall we not? - -
Char’otte. No | I thank you, I must first make the braid-
stitch, Mama shewed me. - r-"
Theophilus. Well, we two then! come Fredericſ sit down,
Friend R, l'Il 12) work with you.
- (Sitting down by them or the graſs. X -
Friend R. And I with you; you have no objection, I
dare say ? . . . . . ;
Pick. Oh not not here is room enough. That's excel.
lent! Now we will see, who can string most!
Father. Place yourselves so, that you can ses the sun.
go down, it will be a glorious sight this evening.
A 2 - C 7%sy
**) to be, is; i. e. I will,
... 4
( They all seat themselves and commence their twork.)
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 9 let it be too melancholy!
Charlotte, No, not too melancholy, d'ye f) hear, Pa-
pa? otherwise it will certainly make us cry, and then we
can’t 6) help it, --- - -
John, Well, give over Papa will know what he is to tell.
Father, Fear nothing, my children; I'll take care, that
'-à 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 ej 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 exceſs, but their love was
in consistent with reason.
Theophilus. What's the meaning of that, Papa 2
Father, You shall hear. We love you also, you know;
put 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
in every thing he did, and now, as he rather chose to
play, than work and learn, he was allowed to play almost
- - - t the
*
*
*) i. e. do not, f) i. e. do you, s) i. e., can not, d) to drink.
a) to throw, f) to do. w -
Sº,
the whole day and so learned little or nothing. This is,
what sensible people call unreasonable loves * -
Theophilus. All 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 2 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
l) 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 homest livelihood.
One day - --
Charlotte. Now we shall hear it!
Nicholas. Gh silence!
Pather. 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
io go with his father to London.
Frederic. In a coach
Dick, No, Frederict to go to London they must croſs a
large water, on board of a ship, which water is called the
North-Sea. — Well Papa? <!
*er. His comrade asked him, if he would go along
A 3 - with
g) to fºy. h) to speak, ;) to be, k) to think. 1) to ſpend.
m) to meet,” l
*
A.
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. . . . *
, But I have no morey about me!” said Crusoe — , Ne-
wer mind,”
answered the other; , I'll pay your expences.”
Young Robinson hesitated a few moments; took n) his
comrade by the hand and cried out: ;, Donel I'll go with
you, my boy I come let's oy go quickly on board 1' - He
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 7)
together on board. *% - .
John. Fie! I don't like this Robinson.
TWicholas, 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 r) right, John it was indeed very
stupid of him, and we must pity his stupidity. Happily,
there are not many young folks, so ſilly 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, -
John. Well, let us hear, what became of Robinson.
Father. The sailors — or the ship's crew — weighed
anchor, and hoisted the sails, and when the wind filled
them, the captain took his farewell of the town by firing
º r six
*} to take, o] i. e. let us, p) to find, 4) to go, tº to be.
Biºmºn *. 7.
six guns. Young Robinson, being on deck with his friend,
was almost out of his wits with joy 2 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, and now they entered into
the open sea, wº-
How Robinson was amazed, when he saw t) nothing but
sky and water before him . The land, he departed from , .
began u) to disappear by degrees. Now he could see
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 -
Pather. Yes, and if by working and temperance in eat-
ing and drinking you harden your constitutions every day,
so, that you may be able to bear the fatigue of such a jour-
ncy, we may one day or other make a tour to Trayemund
on the Baltic sea -- !
All, 9}, 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 she ground, embraced
the father's neck, arms and knces, expressing their
joy by caresses, clapping with their hands, hopping
and jumping about.) A 4 Mo-
*) to lose, t) to see, u) to begin,
}
8. ºr "
Mother. Will you not take me along with you? *
Charlotte, Ay, if you can walk so far! — But it is ve.
ry far — 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 py into the smith’s
shop, By the road-side - r
Father. Ay, and where we mounted up to the wind-
mill - w" - , *.
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 wo us before I
Charlotta You gave ac) him something, did y) not you,
Papa? — 4 *. y
Pather. To be sure; I did I 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 2) 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
mot cease to roar. The rath fell down in torrents, and a
- * - Iºn () St.
w) to go, w) to see. & ) to give. y) to do. 2) to become. *) -
to grow, *
º T. g
. * , ,
*
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 abyſs; 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 a began to vomit and grew so sick, that
he thought eX he should have died. This they call sea -
sickneſs. -
John. Now he got f) his deserts 1 g
Father. , Oh my dear parents tº 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 1 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 déspair. , What's the matter?”
cried Robinson, almost frightened to death. --
, Alas! we are undone l’” 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 ſlung g) over board.”
... We are lost t” cried another voice, from the hold,
, the ship has sprung h) a leak, and there are already four
feet water in the hold . " - &
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 hearly shake and
cried : What! will you alone lie idle here, while all th
rest of us are working our-selves to death? •
*) to go, c) shall. d) to ly, (lie...) e ) to think, f) to get, g)
to fling. h.) to ſpring, i.) to fall,
IO ~- * ===
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 Hainted away
again. A sailor, who took l) 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 2 bales, casks etc. but all to no purpose,
In the mean time another ship had heard the signal of di-
streſs, and sent oy 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?
Zwicholas. Because they were so ready to assist this Ham-
burg-Wessel, and even ventured their lives for her sake
Father. Must we then assist our country-men only? su-
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 2 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.
- Johm.
k) to get. J) to take, m) to leave, n) to think, o] to send, p)
to toſs.
fºLººſ. ‘’II
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 , 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.
Theophilus. Oh, I am very glad, the poor people are
not drowned 1
Frederic. I was in great fear for them. -
Charlotte. This will teach master Robinson to be more
prudent for the future, - -
Mother. I think so too, now he will grow wiser.
Dick, But what beeame 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
they made u) the mouth of the Thames and soon after they
cast 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, r) to throw, s) to see, t) to bind. 2) to make.
into the sea not far from London. The place, where a ri-
wer 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 iO
London, and what he now intended to do there?
Robinson then frankly told ac) him, that he was only co-
me for pleasure , and even without the knowledge and oom-
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 I Believe me, imprudent young man,” continued
he, , had I known this, at Hamburgh, I would not ha-
we taken you on board, if you had offer'd me a million
for your passage 1" - f
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 ho mended and had obtained the
forgiveneſs of his parents. Robinson shed bitter tears.
But what can I do now? said he at last, sobbing.
Do 2"
§ § 2 - º
w) to forget. x) to tell. y} to drop. :) to sit.
* - 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 ought to do, when he
sees his fellow-creature go astray tº be reminded the young
man of his duty.
,, Will you take me with you, to Hambro’ again?” said
Robinson.
,, I?” answered the captain, , have you then forgot,
that my ship is lost? a) I shall not return there before I
have gotten b) and ther, 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 sails thither, and that
the sooner the better.”
, But I have no money !” said Robinsort,
,, Here,” answered the captain , ,, are some guineas for
you — ”
Theophilus. Pray, what are guineas 2
Father. English money, my dear; gold- coin, like a
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 , ,, 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 sin-
cerely repent, God will grant you a safer return, than our
voyage hither has been.” Upon which he shook c) him.
heartily by the band, and wished him a safe return.
Robinson went away —
t B ... Nå-
a) to lose, b) to get, c) to shake.
I4. *
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 t .
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 al home; let us hear, what fur-
ther happened to him!
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. 'i'hey 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 1"
He stopt eX short in his walk, his head filled with re-
flexions,
He now thought, he would not return yet; but then he
recollected again, what the captain had told f) him, that
be would never be happy; unleſs he returned to his parents
and obtained their pardon. He was for a long while at a
loſs what to resolve upon. At last, however, he went to
the harbour.
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 Guinea-trader?
Father. Let Dick tell you, he knows, what it is,
pick, Don't you remember, there is a-country, called
Africa? Well, one sea - coast of it -
Frcº
d) to think, e) to stop. f.) to tell,
smºs 15
Frederic. Coast!
Dick. Yes, or the land close to the sea — Look, I ha-
ve just my little maps here 1 — 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. s
John. Could that captain speak German then 7
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
his face, and his desire of travelling became i) 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, to tra.
de with at the place we are going to ?”
, 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-
me favour us ever so little,”
, And
g) to speak, h) to get. 3) to become. *) to forget.
&
} 6 - * ſºmºn
, 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.” *
Now Robinson could withſtand 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 thry struck k) hands 2 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 7 w
John. No, Papa; why is he so stupid, as to forget hiz.
duty to his parents again? God Almighty must certainly pu-
mish 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 1 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 ſilent for some moment: 2 when the father
purſued in theſe words. -
Robinson made now all possible speed to town with his
mine guineas, for which he purchased the things, the cap-
tain had advised him, and sent Z) them on board, A
k) to strike. J) to send,
*=-
Sºº 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 7 w.
Father. You have your little maps there; come I will shew
you ! Look here, from London they sail down the Tha-
mes, into the Northsea; then they steer westwards thro'
the straits of Calais into the Channel. From thence they er-
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 7
Father. Perhaps there near Cape - Corse, which belongs
to the English. - -
Mother. But I think, it is also time for us to sail, 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 t my children, you shall
hear what further happened to our Robinson, Now to
supper. -
4!!. To supper I to supper I
B 3 S Es
=-------
~~~~
S E G O N D E V E N IN G.
The following evening, when all te company was assems
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. r A.
Look, children, I have brought oy 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.
sai!, but the wind proving contrary, they were, against
their will, driven to were you see America, I’ll fix the map
against than tree, so that, if necessary, we may easily
cast an eye upon it. - *
One evening the mate cried , that he saw p) a fire.
at a great distance , and at the 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
* , º They
in) to blow, n) to drive, e.) to bring, p) to see, a) to find.
... .". - - 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 r) a large vessel
all in a blaze. *. /
The captain ordered ſive 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 t) to the powder-room of the ship. w
* 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-
ple know, where about the ship was 2 that wished to re. .
lieve them. He also ordered all the lanthorns to be hung p)
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
could 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 ſaw
themſelves in safety? Some wept w ) aloud for joy; others
roared for fear, as if the danger was but beginning; some
B 4 Wee
*X to behold, s) to sink. ) to get, s ) to blow, *) to hang
39) to weep.
go Bººm
were seem 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 22 dumb and lifeleſs, and were unable
to pronounce a word. * g
Now some of them fell, y) on their knees, lifting up their
hands to heaven, and thanked God Almighty aloud, whose
providence had ſo miraculously preserved them.
Then they jumped up again, hopped about like children,
tore 2) 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
thanked him for his compassion, and said s, Give me
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 respect-
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.
He
& ) to stand. y ) to fall. z ) to tear, a J to Weep, b) to step,
c) to withdraw. d) to arise,
He then related, who they were, and what had liappen-
ed to them. -
Their ship had been a large french merchantman, bound
for Quebeck — look here for this place in America – The
fire had broken ex out in the steerage, and had burnt
with such violenee, that it was impossible for them to ex-
tinguish it; they even had scarce had time enough to fire
some guns, and to save themselves in their boats.
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 a 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 J), 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 ſoon 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.
vens!” 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, to
expect for the future!" This thougt lay like a heavy burthen
QIº
•) to break, f) to forget, g) to hang, h) to ſpend.
on his heart; he sat 3) 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.
AMother. See, what it is to be conscious of wicked aca
tions ! Then we find no comfort in God; then we always
fear the worst, because we feel, that we deserve to be
miserable. Oh I that is a woeful condition.
Pather. 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,
ving their lives,
, God forbid,” cried the captain, ,, I should take any
thing from yout I have done no more , than what huma-
mity prompted me to do, and what I should expect to re-
ceive myſelf from you or any other, when in the ſame cir-
eumſtances.
In vain did the grateful man preſs the captain, to accept
his present, he persisted in his refusal and begged him to
say no more of it. — After this, the question was - where
these preserved people could be set on shore ? To take
them along to Guinea was not advisable for two obvious rea"
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. - \ .
* At
i) to sit. .
At last our brave captain resolved to sail back a hundred
leagues and more, for the sake of these poor people, to
Wewfoundland, 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?
John. Have you forgotten, what Papa told K) us about
cod, how they come down from the frozen sea, to the
banks of Newfoundland, where they are caught !) in such
great quantities 7 -*
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 called
codfishers.
Father. Thither they steered, and it being just then the
fishing season, there were many french vessels, who wil-
lingly took ºn ) 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 mas
de some hundred miles. Now this was an unspeakable plea-
sure for our Robinsorz, 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 distreſs, and
then perceived she had lost n) her foremast and bowſprit,
Nicholas, Bowsprit?
Fa.
X to tell. 1) to catch. 1n) to take. o ) to loss.
24 mamm,
Father. Sure you know, what that is ? --
Nicholas. Oh yes, I remember, it is the ſmall Imast,
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
cargo 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 busineſs. But in their absence there
aroſe oy such a terrible tempest, that our cable broke p)
and we were driven out to sea. The hurricane — ”
Theophilus. What is a hurricane 2
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
are, or what will become of us. All our provisions at Iſè &Y’s
hausted • and most of us half famished”
The generous captain immediately order'd the boat to be
\ hoist-
•) to arise, p) to break. 4.
*
tº
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
lier 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
gnawing. t * * -
Charlotte. Oh, dear Papa! why do you make it so
mournful? - *
Jather. 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 l mo, 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 thers
in such a dreadful situation.
They were passengers , who were come with this
vessel from England to Jamaica, and had been obliged to
remain on board for some days 2 because the young man's
mother was taken ill. The whole crew said, they were
very good sort of people. The mother had loved her son.
to such an exceſs, 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 - maide
a ) to find, b) to fit.
26 -
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-
mes, 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 aſſected, that he
relapsed into a swoon 5 from which he was recovered with
great diſficulty; 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 f)
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. *- ºr
One of them you know is Madeira.
Dick. Yes, that belongs to the Portuguese.
John. Where the fine Madeira - wine grows I
Theophilus. And the sugar canes 1 -
Charlotte. And where there are so many canary birds
Father. The game. At this island then the captain lans
ded, and Robinson went on shore with him.
He could not satiate his eyes with the glorious prospect,
- I which
e) to think, & ) to go, e ) to bring, f) to break.
* , - - 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 2 to eat his fill.
From the people in the vine-yards they learned , that
the wine was not made there by means of a preſs, 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 tº
John, Nor Il if it were even made with the wine-preſs,
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 !! . *
The captain being obliged to stay here soms 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. -
Dick. , C Pointing to the map.) To this country here, be.
. C 2 lon-
g") to hang, h ) to grow, -
28 - pººl
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-
me 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
man, 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. -
Having bade j) an adieu to the english captain, Robins
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 Papal
Father. It was a glorious prospect in the evening, long
aſter sun - set, 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,
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 A) 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 ſong ſins, 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 feaming 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 6) to dawn, one
of the sailors cried out: land to the inexpressible joy of all
the company, * -
Mother. Land! land 1 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 graſsplot. -
C 3 Mo-
1) to shine, m) to rise, n ) to think, 0 ) to begin,
*
30 ſºlº - ) -:
Mother. Just as you please; so, children, let me not de-
tain you from listening to your story, while 1 am preparing
things for supper.
24!/. Oh 2 that's charming, that's excelſent!
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 py 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 ship 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, aſter 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.
Pre-
p 3 to fall, q X to strike, r) to stick.
--- * – 31
Presently they saw a wave like a lofty mountain rolling
after them. At this, dreadful sight , they all stiffen'd
with terror, and dropt s ) their oars. Now the frightful
moment aproached 1 - The monstrous wave reached the
boat, overset it — and they all sunk t) down into the ras
ging sea — *
(Here the father stopt u); the whole comparzy renza;;zed.
silent and many of them heaved a sigh of compas-
sion. 4t Zength the mother appeared with a ruraz
*PPer 2 and put an end to these In oping sensations, )
*) to drop. *) to sink. u ) to stop.
“T H I R D
T H 1 R D E V E N IN G.
Theophia. 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 wy swallowed up in a moment. —
But the same monstrous wave bore z) 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 lie 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. –
John. But why did God Almighty preserve Robinson alo-
ne, and why did he suffer all the rest to perish :
- Fa
y 3 to leave. ov ) to be, a D to bear, j ) to sink, -
- * 33
Father. My dear John, are you always able to disoover
the reasons, why we grown people, who love you hearti.
ly, make you sometimes do one thing and sometimes
another ?
John. No 1
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? W
Nicholas, Q much greater | much greateri is
Father. I knew a X before-hand, that Bromley was to
come and attend you to your parents, and therefore orde-
red you to stay. — And you John, whom did you meet
in Wansbeck 2
John. My dear Papa and Mama , who were gone b )
thither.
Father. Of this also I was informed, and for the same
reason, desired you to go to Wansbeck 2 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 •
z). A fertile plain some miles from Hambro'. a) to know. A ) to go.
34. LE
Pather. 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
**er. 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 2 -
Theophilus. O yes, certainly 1. ----
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 i.
Father. Now, dear John, have you a mind to repeat your
last question once more?
Johns Which 2
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 com-
- ceive
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 1 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 7
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;
he 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
Rather. When the ity he felt for his preservation had
subsided, he began to reflect on his present situation; he
looked around, but he discovered nothing but bushes and
ITG &S
£) 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 7
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! *- e
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 2
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
come to us. Their number also assens, because other ci"
vilized men, who go to their country, take pains, to in-
struct and civilize them,
ADick.
d) to stand,
m 37
Dick. But pray, were there any in that country, where
Robinson now was 7 -- e
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 1 . 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-
me 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 i
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 comfortleſs and knew not what to do.
At length he resolved to paſs the might on a tree like a
- D r bird.
c ) to weat,
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 I Here I am, my dear parents 1 and thus crying, he
was going to throw himself into his parents arms, made a
motion in his sleep, and fell miserably down from his tree.
Charlotte. Oh poor Robinson /
&heophilus. I suppose he is killed by his fall?
Father. To his good fortune, he had not been very
high, and the ground underneath was so overgrown with
graſs, 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,
Jhe yet wanted fire, spit and pots. All the trees he had
hitherto seen were what they call Campechio - trees C 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- -
- rica
f) to dream, g) to break, h X to begins i ) to bean,
\
sm. - 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 withs
But let us return to our Robinson' w &
He came down from his tree, without knowing what £C)
do. As he had eaten nothing all the day befores he began
to feel a most violent hunger, which made him run about
some thousand steps, to see whether he might not diseover
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 beaven. 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 graſs and sand every where! Tired and exhausted he
ilung 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 Il CYY COIl-
timued walking along the shore and looking about on all sides
for something to eat, º,
At last he found some oyster-shells lying on the shore. He
!) a eagerly
j) to bring, k ) to fling. *
#o m . .
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.
Prederic. Pray, what is the tide 2
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." f
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 t
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
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 SO ſºlò
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
bink again?
The-
- * --..." * - 4I
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
132 afters -
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 1 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 1. 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
!) to builds -
$y lºº
42
up the beams by a pully and fix them upon the brickwork,
Then they saw boards and laths which they nail upon the
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 hatchets, 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 Ro4inson 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 but of branches have secured
him against serpents, wolves, panthers, tygers, lions and
other wild animals.?
John. Oh poor Robinson what will now become of you.}
Micholas. But could he not shoot then?
Father. Oh yes, if he had had a gun with powder and balls.I.
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 opéu and shewing his large pointed
teeth; then falling upon him and seizing him. by the throat.
\ t - * In
#,
*—-º-º: ) ' 43
In this terrible fright he cried out: oh my poor parents 1
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 : , * -
, Whoever places all his trust
, And confidence on God the Lord,
,, When he is suffering in the dust 2
, 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
$8treate -
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 its
On his way, he made the melancholy observation, that
this country bore pX nothing but unfruitful trees and graſs.
You may easily gueſs, what were his reflections on seeing
such a barren place. *
With great-diſficulty he 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,
, Follorn 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,
D 4 for-
m) to sink, n) to lie. 0 ) to sing, p J to bear,
forsaken by all, and no hopes left me of ever being deli-
ver'd from this dreary desart? Oh my poor afflicted parents t
Am I then never to see you again! shall I never be able
to beg your pardon for my offence 1 shall I never hear
again the comfortable voice of a friend, of a man 1 — 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 l. - *
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 t” was all
he could utter - Happily for him he at last recollected
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
2, Who liveth in prosperity t.
, Time often changes, here our fats
, 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
fine hymns, that could comfort him now in his distreſs.
Father. Certainly it was very lucky | What would now
bave 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 overwhelined 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-
à ) 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, Charlottet 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 hill. His endeavours to find
out some secure retreat, for a long time, proved unsucceſs-
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 its 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 I he
had none of these instruments Now the question was a
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
f) to feel.
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 from behind I shall be shelter-
ed by the steep rock; and these trees will secure me on
the other side.” º
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 (point-
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 slands sometimes perpendiculary over the
people's heads. It must therefore be very warm in these
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. Hore
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 none, and was obliged, to
lay himself down that night with an empty stomach.
But where could he lie down 2 - He had resolved, to
COIle
a 3 to run, t ) to chose,
- 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 dome very wisely, not
to let every thing grow thus ready made prepared out of
the ground. §
Father. Just as he ordered every thing throughout the
whole creation with infinite goodneſs and wisdom. — But
behold yonder the beautiful evening start 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 I let us hand in hand walk to yon bower l —
F O U R T H
F O U R T H E V E N IN G.
Father. Well, my good children, where did we leave
our SRobinson last night? -
John. He had climb'd into his tree again to sleep there,
and -
Father. Very right, I know it! — This time he fared
better : he did not fall down again, but slept it) soundly
untill the next morning.
At dawn of day he first ran to the sea shore, to look for
oysters, and then he returned to his work. This time he
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. -- ſ
It was a triangular mut, as big as a child’s head. The
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 Robinsom 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
- tuice
- 49
juice would be spilled. 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 hers.
Father. It was a cocoa-tree, which are chiefly found
in the East-Indies, and here in the islands of the South -
sea. How this tree might come into Robinson's Island, I
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.
CThe 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 2
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?
Pather. You all know , I have not been in the East-
indies; and that there are none to be sold w) here in
Hamburgh. If I had not had some friend, to present me
E - with
*) to eat. , ) to fly, w] to sell.
&O
Ҽ
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 he has generously
spared it from his own mouth, to please us, most of whom
be never saw. º
Theophilus, And who is this good gentleman?
Father. Our friend Captain Muller, whom you saw,
two years ago, when we were at Stade. -
Aicholas. Oh! aye! the good-natured gentleman; who
came to see us at York?
Father. The same? — May this evening be as happy to
him as he made it us; mean while let us try, if we cannot
open the shel). --
( After much ado the outward förous 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
21 Ot found so agreeable as it is generally described ;
perhaps, because the nut was too old or had been
taken frcm the tree before it was quite ripe. At last
ahe nut was cut open with a saw, to get in the white
#ernel, which every one found 777 OP"e agreeable, than
the sweetest hazelnut. This was a delicious feast for
£he young folks).
Pick. Bleſs 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
saw, which Robinson had not. But what difficulty can be
great for an hungry man, who has the hopes of eating
his fill- Tho"
5t.
$,
Tho' Robinson had Îow satisfied his hunger, yet fle ran:
to the sea-shore, 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 ſlax 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 aſter, 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 a ) lis
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
E 2.
- iT tº ČS
a D to break,
52 Y. . - ºl
w
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 aſ-
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 2
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 s 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 wouldn't do, that he foresaw; but what then
cou’d he do? He was obliged to look about him for so-
NWith
mothing to serve his purposes
3 ) to interweave,
- 53
With this view he went to a spot, where he had seen a
great number of hard green stones. 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 maake a tolerable hatehet 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 own making he
fastened it to a strong handle as firm, as if it had been
nailed to it,
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 advantas
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 mallet, such as masons and joiners use;
the other was shaped like a short club, and sharp at one
end like a wedge. Robinson full of joy, took'en 2) both ,
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, i
He had, sometime before this, been pulling up with his
hands a great deal of graſs and spread it in the sun to dry.
E 5 - This
*) i. e. took then, a) to run. b) to strike,
This graſs 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 t
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 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 bleſs 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 1
Father, God Almighty knew very well, that he would
mend, when he should come to be in distreſs, 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-
mack, that, he might not forget the succession of days and
when it was sunday.
} - John.
e) to bethinks
=- 55
º
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 dayse -
John. And how did he make it, pray ?
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, a
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 motches 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 2
Father. That he ceuld count on his fingers.
John. On his fingers
Father. Yes; and if you will, I'll shew you how
24ll. 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 knuckie
of the forefinger of his left hand, he named January as the
first month of the year, and how many days has that month 2
John. One and thirty.
Father. Now I will continue to count the months in this
manner, and you John, you may tell the number of the
days; — so, in the second place, February.
John. Should have thirty, but has only twenty eight a
and sometimes twenty-nine. *
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. Septembers.
John. Thirty-
Father. October.
John. Thirty-onea
Father. November,
John. Thirty.
Father. December.
John. One and thirty days.
Father. Did you observe in the almanack, if it were right?
pick. Yes, Sir, I did; it was all just to a hair I
Father. Such things, as these , ought to be well obser-
wed, because we have not always an almanack about us,
- w and
and yet it may sometimes be of importance for us, to knew
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
Father. In this manner Robinson took care, not to lose
This 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 limen and whale-
bone for it?
Father. He had neither linen, nor whalebone, nor knife,
how
nor scissars, neither needle or thread , and yet
do you think he set about making an umbrella?
Nicholas. Nay, that I don't know!'
Jather. He took some willow twigs and twisted them into
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.
John. With pins ! and pray, where did he get them?
Father. Can’s 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 I ** John.
58 =
John. Oh, you have hit it finely 1 as if pins were to be
found, where none were ever lost! And how could Ro-
*inson 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 mone?
John. I should use prickles of thorns.
Theophilus. And I those of gooseberry bushes,
Father. That's something. However I 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-
eyer he succeeded in any of the like undertakings, he felt
an inexpressible joy, and them he used to say to himself:
,, What a fool was I in my youth, to spend most of my
time in idleneſs I 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 I 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 haps
py as to find them. -
Has
- 59
Having already a good stock of packthread, 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 parl 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 succeſs 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 I — Now we will let our Ro-
binson sleep till to -morrow ! - In the mean time I'll ses,
if I cannot learn of him the art of making an umbrella. -
• ) to meet. f.) to fling. F I F TH
F I F T H E V E N IN G.
- The next evening, when the company were again assem-
bled in their usual place, Nicholas appear'd with a hunter's-
bag of his 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. Travo • Nicholas, that's well done. I had almost
taken you for Robinson himself. --- J.
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, C Taking one of his own making from behind
the hedge.) What do you say to this, Friend Robinson 2
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.
= . 61
All. Oh, that is excellent! that is delightful
Father. Robinson could scarce wait till day-break; he
rose hy before the san, and prepared himself for his journey.
He put his pouch about his shoulders, girded a rope round his
waist, hung iſ 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 out 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 Himſelf
, as the most bountiful t” — 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 7
Whose power lull'd my mind? .
'Twas Thou, o Lord, 't was Thou alone
We move alone in Thee;
F Thou
h) to rise. #) to hang, k) to sing.
ió2.
mºn
*. -" - ..."
> *-rº-
** * *-* ... <-3
Thou savest all, and Thou hast shewn
Thy mercy new to me.
Praised be Thou, 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; w
Let my heart still true happineſs.
In Godly actions find.
That I as Thy obedient child,
May virtue's path explore;
And not with storiny passions wild
My soul to vice restore-
That I may to all men be kind;
To help them ne'er be slow;
Let others welfare warm my mind,
Their virtues make it glow.
That while I ſtill 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, wh
Father. With great Pleasure"
en I rise?
Friend
Friend R. And I will teach you the tune to it; and
them we may sing it before morning prayers.
Nicholas, Oh! that's fine; it is an excellent hymn !
Father. As Robinson was still greatly afraidº 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.
.x.
At last he spied a plant, which he thought deserved sº
closer examination, These plants stood together in small
tufts. Some had reddish, others whitish blossoms, and
others again bore l) 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 nurtis
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 in) 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 2
John. Why potatoes! they grow just so as you describ.
ed them. * *
* F 2 Pick,
! ) to bear. m) the tooth, {
54 *- -
Dick, And originally they come from America :
Theophilus, Yes, Sir Francis Drake brought m) them from
thence 1 — But Robinson was very stupid, not to know them,
Father. And pray how come you to know them 2
Theophilus. Why, because I have often seen and eaten
them ; they are my favourite dish 1
Father. But Robinson had never seen or eaten any before,
Theophilus. No 2
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, since our Robin-
son lived. #
Theophilus. Nay then —
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. Kiſs 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
.*
TeaSOIle $
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
- º- al
a) to bring.
º 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 surel
Theophilus. Or Lions and tigers. º
Father. Neither of them 1 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
Morses; 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 Chere 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 ſame! - When Robinson ſaw 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 - il
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, he gave
it such a violent ſtroke on the neck with his hatchet, that
it immediately fell dead on the ground.
Charlotte. Oh fie how could he do so? The poor
little sheep y
Mother. And why should he 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 2 that God has allowed
us to make use of animals, to whatever purpose we need
them 2 *
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 7
John. Oh, yes | And if we did not make use of animals,
we should not take the trouble, to provide for them, and
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 sickneſs and old age;
because they are not able to help each other , as men cans
Fa-
o) to hide.
67
Father. And them 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 J, but it is over. s -
Robinson had scarce knocked down the Lama, when he
began to consider, how he should be able to dreſs its flesh?
Charlotte. Why, could he not boil or roast it? .
Father. That he would most willingly have dome; but
unluckily for him, he wanted all conveniences for this pur-
pose. He had neither pot nor spit, and what was still
yworse - he even had no fire. --
Charlotte. No fire why could he not make some 2
Father. To be sure, he might, if he had had a ſteel
and tinder, a ſlint and matches 1 But , alas! he had no-
thing of all this 1
John. I know , what I should have done 1
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 leſs agree-
able to him; for he met 4) 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, 7) 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. Iłesides 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 needleſs, because there never is any
winter in this country.
Theophilus. Never any winter?
Father. No 1 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? There consequently it must be always win-
ter, and yet they are all situated between the tropics.
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?
! • Fas
r) to foreſee.
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 , on the
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 l From America we flew s) to Asia and
now — mind me ! hush , 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.
Now the most necessary of all was still wanting, I
mean fire. In order to produce it by friction , he cut
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
r -- wood
s) to fly, t) to strip. 9) to fall.
wood always grew cold again ; , and all his labour proved
fruitleſs.
He now again felt v) in the most sensible manner, the
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 2 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 ac) 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. w
As his blood was now in great agitation, he grew very
dry and went to the ſpring to fetch a draught of fresh wa-
ter in his cocoa-shell. This water he mixed with some le-
IIAOIls
y) to feel, w) to bring. 3) to fling.
t
\
- * - 7t
mon-juice, which made it a fine cooling drink 2 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
so, 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 , 2, 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 ungrateſul 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
addreſs his very fervent thanks to the giver of all good things.
- When
y}” to go.
- 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.
s 1x T H
S I X. T H E W E N I N G.
CThe father continues.)
Our Robinson slept a X that time, till the day was far
advanced. When he awoke b), he was surprized to find
it was already ſo 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? -
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, he was pres
possessed with a foolish fear of lightning.
Theophilus. Of thunder and lightning?
G Jºse
s) to sleep. b) to awake, c) to send.
74
Father. Yes, they frightened him so much, that he did
not know, what to do with himself for fears
Theophilus. That is something so majestic 1 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. Oh, 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
agáin, dear 1’apa, when it lightens, that we may see it?
Father. Oh yes, I will I 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 gardens;
how men and animals, trees and plants, are so agreeably
refreshed by it 1 —
He sat id) 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
II.1Q ſtº
d) to sit, e) to shoot.
imºſ - 75
.*
more tormented with fightful 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.” . , k
Friend R. Now, I must own, I am not at all pleased
with our friend Robinson / r -
Nicholas. And why not, pray?"
Friend R. Why?" has not God. Almighty done already
so much for him, that by his own experience he might
very well know, that God does not försake any body that
confides in him, and endeavours to mend ? Had he motº
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 dé-
jected fiel that is impardonable ! —-
Mother. I am of your opinion dear R. , but let us have
compassion on the poor fellow ! It was but lately he had
begun fj 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 kiſs 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 — what do
you think? he fell senseleſs on the ground, *
G 2. John.
f) to begitis, - - Jº *.
76 *
John. well and what ailed him then 9
Father. R r r r r r - bounce 1 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 ) eight 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
mew misfortune to him 1 What could he now fasten his
ladder to, if the whole tree, as he thought, was struck
down 7
The rain and thunder being now entirely over, he at last
Ventured out, and what do you think he saw 7
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 wans
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-louses :
f Mo-
g) to strike. h.) to rend, i.) lose, k) to fling.
wº- 77
Mother; How sº? w
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 is 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
,, .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?
sº 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 l’’
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 tage
l ) to blow.
'78
%
* - tº
tage of the fire, and roast his meat, which had been spits
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 liſted up bis eyes with
gratitude to heaven. And afterwards, whenever he saw any
fire, or only thought of it, his second thought always was i
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
and know, that fire is not God, but
letter informed,
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 séa-
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,
Robinson has not tasted a mouthful of Welldressed meat in
who like
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 7
Charlotte. I'll tell you what, Papal I should have ma-
de a fire in my cavern, where the rain could not come.
Father. Very well imagined 1 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 1
John. There must always be something or other to
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, Papal -
Father. Don't you think so , my dear John º' Well! let
us see, what you have eat , drunk and wanted to day. —
ln the first place you have slept till sun - rise, in a good
commodious bed, have nogº"
G 4 John,
8d -
John. On a matraſs.
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
matraſs. The covering of the matraſs is made of striped li-
men, and whence does that come?'
John. It has been made by the linen - weaver,
Father. And what does he want, to make it?.
John. Why, a loem, and yarn, and a reel and warping
bars, and paste, and - -
Father. Very well! How many hands were required, to
make as 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 ºn X by women. .
Father. Out of what?
Wohn, Out of ſlax,
Åather. And do you know, thro’ how many, hands the
flax must paſs, 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 , ,
th) to sel. n.) to spin,
*
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 1 'y
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 pj on the brake. —
Charlotte, I beg your pardon, Sir ; first it is dried in the
oven I Is not it, Papa? -
Frederic. Yes! And then it is broke, and them —
Charlotte. Then it is hackled on the hackle, which is
full of sharp wires, to take out the tow,
Dick, And then they do something else with it — let me
see — 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 matraſs,
an 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 7
And as he had not one of all those tools, with which things
are so easily made among us?
Now he was at a loſs, how to prevent his dear fire from
G 5 t going
0) to draw, p) to break,
82 - mºm
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 bill, he directly knew, what he had to do.
Dick. How so? s
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 2
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 2 yet the ground under
this large stone was not in the least wet, but as dry, as
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 re-
solved, to set about it directly.
With his spade he dug. 2) 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, - w
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 7 he had not left t ) ,
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. -
This
q) to dig, r) to meet. *) to see, t) to leave,
m -- 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 it ), 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 — a dog or a cat - to
be kind to , and gain its affection But so quite alone —
to be so debarred from all living creatures 1 — Here a tear
of grief trickled down his cheeks.
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 1
said he to himself, how little did I then know the great
value of a friend, and how indispensably necessary the af.
- fec-
a) 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
me . Good God! Why did I not know the high value of
that happineſs, which friendship affords, untill it was lost
ay) for me w
lost for ever !
Then casting accidentally his eyes towards his cavern, he
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 very hard in the ground, that it almost
broke his spade. Sº
He thought wº, it was a stone. But how great was his
astonishment, when, on taking out the lump , he discovers
ed, that it was – solid gold. * -
Theophilus. Good gracious 1 how lucky that Robin-
son is
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
* W. could
r) to lose. wo to think,
could get a palace built a y, keep his own coach, servants,
running foot-men, 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 anything to sell?
Father. Why? Aye. I did not think of that 1 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, or
any other useful too!!” 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.
Charlotte. I'll tell you what, Papa; Robinson did just
as the cock-
Fatzer. What cock?
Charlotte. Whyt 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
a — what do you call it?
Father. A diamond. s
Charlotte. Oh, aye! it was a diamond, and he said : Of
what use art thou to me, thou glittering thing? had Î 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 The-
a) to build. b) to leave, e) to paſs. d) to sink.
.86 -
Theophilus. Into the sea?
Father. So it appears to those, who live in an island,
or on the sea - shore 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 sometimes 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. r
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 2
John. (Whispering.) Frederic, I believe he is praying
to God.
Frederic. CWhispering to John.) And why, pray 2
John. ( PWhispering.) I believe he is returning thanks to
God, ſor having created that glorious moon.
Father. GAfter 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 7 - - --
Nicholas. Oh I shall we not go to our arbour, before we
go to bed 2
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-
rious moon, for the joys of the past day.
And thus they all went joyfully to the arbour,
e) to keep,
S E-
S E W E N T H E V E N I N 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
buch violence? -
John. To the graſs plot under the apple-tree l
Father. What do you want with me there?
Nicholas, Oh, our Robinson / pray I pray !
Theophilus. Oh aye, Robinson 1 and you shall be my
best, my dearest Papal
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 Ali-
f) to dig,
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 feast 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 sun - rise, put fresh wood to his fire and
breakfasted on half the cocoa - mut, 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. s -
He so vigorously prosecuted his work that, before noon,
he had made as many clay bricks as be 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 kiad of food, which was much better.
John. And what was that, pray 7
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?
Tia.
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 I Are there really any so large?
John. Oh, there are some 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-seaf Why, those were of three-hundred weight,
Theophilus. Three-hundred weight ! Why that is asto-
nishing,
Father. Robinson took his turtle on his shoulder , and
made a shift, to get home with it as well as be could. Here
he struck h ) with his hatchet on the lower shell, till it
broke i). 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 turtie, to preserve it from
putrefaction? To pickle it, he wanted a tub and salt.
Chartotte. Pray, what do you call, to pickle 2 t
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.
Oather. 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 - trays
g) to catch. h.) to strike, i) to break,
-T---- -
- go
tray. This he thought he might use instead of a tub. But,
where could he now get salt? — &
,, What a blockhead am 17" 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
2, 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
I 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 1 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 l’”
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.
S. 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 potatoet
Father. That is expressing the matter at once 1 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 hin instead
of bread.
He therefore made a most excellent meal. After which he
. . . laid
t
k) to arise.
º *91
- *** - .- ** we • *-
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 7” 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
” wh hall I do with so much meat? What, if I con-
, trived my kitchen so, 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 7
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 7
But what could he do? He WaS obliged to wait 2 till the
sun had hardened his bricks.
But, what should he do this afternoon 3 — 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, Ah, 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 tº 1 should like
to be with him to catch one for myself too,
: Oa-
92 Sºº-
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. wº
Theophilus But, how would Robinson set about it then 3
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 t 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, as 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
to see, whether it would draw together, and it succeeded
to his wishes.
As the place, where the lamas used to frequent, was
at some distance, and as he did not know , whether .
WOll
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 wybole 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 had brought with him for that pur-
pose. * ,
Upon this he dug a hole in the ground, to serve as a
cellar. Here he placed his turtle - shell, with the meat he
had salted, together with the piece, he had cut off, and
cover'd the whole with boughs. &
The rest of the after noon he devoted to cheer his mind
by a pleasant walk along the sea - shore; whence the re-
freshing east - wind blew, and agreeably cooled the sultry
air. He indulged himselſ 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. --
, What may they be doing now , my poor grieved par
rents?” cried he wringing his hands and with tears in his
eyes. , If they have survived the bitter sorrow, 1 caused
them, alas ! how mournfully will they paſs 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, ob my dearly beloved mother, oh, pardon your
- Pł 5 t poor
! ) to forsake, : ,
- {
wretched son, who eould cause you such grief! 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 1 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 :
I’ar do n your unlucky s on 1 Then he kissed the dear
names, and bathed them with his tears. In proceſs 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 diving
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 appéarance
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 relapse into their former vices ! Oh, my
children I it is a very true saying : Let him 2 who standeth,
take heed , lest he fall! -
Whilst Robinson was thus walking about along the sea-
shore, he thought, that it would not be amiſs, 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, 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.
In his youth he had learned to swim , and so he diver-
ted himself with swimming to a small neck of land , that
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. Looki if
yon bank of our small lake which runs into the water, we,
re a little longer, it would be a meck of land. Do you un,
derstand me now Ż
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 in 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.
- Whe-
m) to strip, n) to wear. 0) to hang.
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 met as yet, but as in all his undertakings
billerto 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, after
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. f
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 ?) out, and what he should do
then 2 — Fhis thought greatly damped his joy. However
he soon took courage again , and having dressed himself,
he went home singing : Who ever places all his
trust etc. f
John. I am glad to find him no more so dejected, and
that he now begins to trust in God.
Charlotte. Of 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.
Charlo te And so would I, if I could but write.
Mother. You may tell me what you would write him,
and l;ll write for you.
Charlotte. Oh, that's fine ! r’
Mother. Well, come along with me ! I'll give you all
SO III 6 paper.
- About
p) to swim, 4) to wear.
* }
*
*
* 97
-,
About half an hour after, they came Öne 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 so
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 1 -
We wish you all possible happineſs 1 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 knows
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,
I’ather. ( reading ).
Dearest Robinson /
I am grieved a that you are so unhappy! If you had staid
- I with ,
$) These letters and many questions and answers are
*iterally such, as were made and writter: a) by the
children.
N.
a) to write.
* * ºn
98
with your parents, that misfortune would never have befal.
len you, Fare wellº return soon to your dear parents, Once
more fare well-
I am
Hamburgh,
the 7th Febr. 1779. Tour faithful Friend,
*. -- Nicholas.
John. Now mine!
Father, (reading).
Honoured Robinson 1
1 pity you, that yon are quite separated from all living
creatures. I believe, that you now repent your inconſide-
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, - Your faithful Friend ,
the 7th Febr. 1779. John.
ZDick. 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.
A. Father. ( reading ).
T) ear 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
deal
92 to write, b) to undergo. c) to find, ---
- 99
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
knife, a hatchet and other tools, Fare well i I am.
Hamburgh,
the 7th Febr. 1779. Your friend, ---
* Dick,
Theophilus. But how are we to send our letters now f
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 ;
you will give me some, dear Mama, won't you?
John. ( Whispering to the father). They really believe ,
that Robinson is still alivet
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? r
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.
I 2 Char-
d) to tell, -
&
Charlotte. But won't you tell us something more of
him 2 *.
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 - days — 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,
=esºs=-
E I G H TH
E I G H T H E V E N IN G.
Fºn. Mama, mama!.
Mother. What do you want, Frederic? -
Frederic. John begs, you would send him another shirts
Mother. Why another shirt? ¥ *
Frederic. Why, otherwise he can not come o
bath. - * , ,
Mother. Why so? Cam 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
~, -*
ut of the
make haste, to come back again, Papa is going to contis
nue the story. --
*.
Mother. C To John, who is coming with the rest.) Well,
friend Robinson, how do you like the bath 2 ~ y,
John, Very well But I could not get my shirt dry again.
Father. You didn't consider, that it is not so warrn in
this country, as in Robinson's island. But, where did we
leave off yesterday ? . . . .
Dick, Where Robinson went to rest, and the next mor-
ning — i
Father, Oh, now I recollect 1 - . The next morning
I 3 R9*
fox - fººi
*
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 progreſs of his
walk something more necessary than "a parrot. When he
was getting up a hill, near the sea, and looking down
between the cliffs, he saw something, that excited his
curiosity. He therefore scrambled down, and, to his ve:
ry great satisfaction, he found, that is was — what do
you think? -
John. Nay, that would not have rejoiced him much! —
I suppose it was irons
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 1 Could that have been
any cause of joy to him, think you ? Why he could make
ſ Pas
no use of gold. -
e) to rise.
- Iog
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,
y that meat would keep in it, because sea-water grows pu-
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 3
John. Oh yes, I know it ! Some is dug fy out of the
earth, some is boiled from salt - 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 :
Jather. 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 satisfied to the place, where
he expected to catch a lama. 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
I 4 º, and
f) to dig, g) to leaye,
IoA.
and potatocs Oh, how much more relishing was this meal
now, as he had some salt, to eat with it !
Just when he had done eating, he discovered some lamas
capering about at a distance, - -
Robinson put himself quickly in readineſs, 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 smare. He did so, and from that moment
the lama was in his possession 1
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 J 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 gol
Father. He would have been a very great fool, if he had.
Theophilus. Ay, but the poor creature had done him
no harml --
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 hiſm, and so arrived at
his habitation at last. But
a) to draw.

== * 1 o'S
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? 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
hatchet, and planted them so close together, as to make
a pretty strong wall. The tired lama had in the mean time
laid berself 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 crea-
tures about him for his companions ! From this moment his
life seemed no longer quite solitary to hin, and the satis-
faction lie 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 1 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,
wº I 5 that
b) to feel.
IO6 - ami’
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
graſs or young boughs.
Af.
•) e. i. for them.
107
'After this he weamed 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 wishs
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 1 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 baſs. 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
&) to wind.
TO8
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 on 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-
gime, that they had human understanding, did we not know
from other reasons, that this is not the case with them.
o) to creep,
- Io9.
Diek. Oh yes, the lion 2 I read of in our little book,
and the man — oh, what is his name?
John. Androclus ; , -
Dick. Oh yes. – He , who drew a thorn out of a
lion's paw w -
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 7 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 7
John. Fiven 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 quietl — 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
- K - down,
w) to slip.
.*
Id
-- ~~~~~~ * ~ * - ...”
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 b) 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 2
John. Oh yes! Whenever the guide came to see him ,
he always entertained him in the best manner, and never
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 dome with him for to-day ?
Theophilus. Oh no, dear Papal 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 homes
. . . . . . John.
3. •) to hold, b) to stop. wº-
* - 111
John. But how could he put the bricks on the lama's
back 2
Father. You'll hardly gueſs, 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
he was at work, so that he knew no more of this very
easy art, as of all the rest, * a
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, F should like to learn to make
baskets too ! r
Father. And so should I, dear Theophilus; and I will
therefore , on the very first epportunity, desire a basket -
maker to give us some instruction. -
Theophilus, Oh fine ! Then I'll make a pretty meat little
basket for my Charlotte. -
Charlotte. And I'll learn it tooſ shall not I 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 them suit us very well.
Now Robinson began to build his wall, in which he suc-
ceeded 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. K a John.
II2 - - mº
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?
Fathar. No, met so : but it was something, that frigha
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 fy 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 cf it
in the night, and them our sleep would be very restleſs.
All Oh, poor Rohinson f
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 ſlower-beds, and then to our
arbour.
e) to lie, f) to shine,
=nº&#:S:=s=S+3====
IN I IN TE II
N IN T H E W E N I N G.
J.
R
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.
s, 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
.” IS 3 si-
I 14 - & ºn
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 long 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 them, but that his reasons, for acting in this,
manner, must be of importance.
,, 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 l’”
To Travemund? – To the Baltic? — To morrow mors.
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 1 to Travemund 1 where is my stick 2
Jenny, where are my half boots quick the brush the
comb a clean shirt! To Travemund ! oh quick! quick 1.
— 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, 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.
At 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, - And
g) to arise.
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 1"
, What promise 2" — cried every mouth, and remained
half open with anxious expectation and affright. W.
Pather. From my promise of going to *-day with you to
Travemund. —
TNow 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 soº" (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.
The Children. , Oh, it is possible the wind may change
to day !” -
Father. Resides I have reflected sº 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? -
l K 4 The
The Children. , Yes — but —” -
Father. But now comes my strongest reason 1. 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 epeak of the pleasure, we had on this
journey, and could then tie 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; ao 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 y what shall be done? - \
, 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 the V
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. - * A-
, 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 olearly as those which
bindered us this morning from going to Trawemund. God
being
mºm - 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-
wer but a good while after , may 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, ob-, my children : howy
sad would be the consequences in your older days, how
would it pervert your hearts 1 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? — Nos
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 1. 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 7 — 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!” - K 5 s: Now
'118 - *
39 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 2
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 so ,
Charlotte 2
Charlotte. It was to teach us patience.
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 longod
for, without much regret. —
Thus some days more passed without any mention of Ro-
Öinson. 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
Inanner:
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 ma-
ture, 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 a
without knowing what was the matter, or what to do. That
same moment several dreadful shocks succeeded each other,
the tremendous subterranean rumbling continued ; at the
same time there arose a howling hurricane, that broke d)
the trees, tore eX them up by the root, made the rocks
ill II1s
r) to awake, d) to break, 6) to tear,
tumble down, and so agitated the sea, that it roared aloud -
from the deepest abyſs. All mature seemed to be in an up-
roar, and to draw near her dissolution.
Robinson terrified to death, rushed out from his cave º
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 to 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 run thither, 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 to the sea-shore. But here a dreadful scene
awaited him. A violent whirlwind blowing from all quar-
ters, 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 w a ter. s p out. *
Our Itobinson 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!
This
t) to flee.
I2O *s
- This earthquake continued for sonse 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.
Prederic. Pray, what is the cause of an earthquake?
*ohn. Papa has told us that long ago, before you ca.
me here.
Father. --Explain it to him, John I
John, There are many large and wide cavities in the earth,
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 dampneſs co-
mes to them. [.
Theophilus. Dampneſs 2 Can wetneſs produce any heat 7
John. To be sure , it cant 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 alſ 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 law as I have read somewhere,
that
ºmmºn ~ 12s
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.
All. Oh yes | Oh yes, dear Papa!
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-
ne, that had befallen him, that he never once, remember
red, to return thanks to H 1 M who so. visibly had saved, him
from death. His situation, indeed, was again as misera,
ble as ever; the only secure retreat, he had hitherto found,
was in all probability ruined; his dear, faithful lamas car-
ried off by the torrent, all bis former labours rendered use.
leſs, and all his fine schemes for future times baffled t M. The
hill indeed had ceased casting forth, fire , but still there as
rose a thick black smoke from the gulph, and it was pos.
sible, that it might remain a volcano ever after; and if it
did, how was it possible for Robinson, to be a moment
easy % had he not every day a new earth - quake, or a new
explosion of the mountain to apprehend? * w
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
sed breast vented incessant sighs. In this comfortleſs situa-
tion he remained, till the dawn proclaimed a new day.
Theophilus. (To friend R. D. Now I see, that Papa was
right.
Friend R. In what?
Theophilus 1 lately imagined, that Robinson was becos
YY, e 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.
Prierzd R And 7
The ophilus. And now I see very well, that he had not
placed so much confidence in God as he ought, and that
God Almighly 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 ehildren, 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 goodneſs and wisdom, as he had experienced. But
before we condemn him, let us first put ourselves in his
place and ask our own hearts, it 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
mm #23.
pious and filial mind — what do you think, my lad, may
I not doubt of that? -
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. Alf 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 I 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
seemed 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? * s
Father. It is probable, that the torrent had carried them
L 2. io
&
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. z -
Robinson now stood before his cavern, and again to his
shame he found, that the damage was not near so great 3
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 kindneſs. Upon viewing the place,
whence the piece of rock had tumbled down, he found to
his astonishment, that it had been surrounded with iodse .
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 earlh, from
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; how-
ever dreadful in the ears of Robinson, contributed to save
him. For if this earthquake had happened without any
moise, Robinson would probably not have been awakened,
and then the falling rock would certainly have crushed him,
and put an end to his life.
Look, my childrerr, thus God had again provided for
him , 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
---
m - - 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 trutht
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 sart, e.
'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,
I, 3 T E N T H
T E N T H E W E N IN G.
c The father continues his story),
Robinson, cauwned some time sinee 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.
to require the strength of more than one man, to be re-
moved. P ~, \
He attempted to move the least of them, but in vain E
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 tº
Father. Well what then 2. -
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, 1 was not here to. see it ; and what is a
lever them t º
John. A strong, long stick; one end of which is put
.* unl” .
a) to stand,
i
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 expe-
dient at last presented itself to his imagination. He recol-
lected, that in his youth he had often seen workmen do
so , in removing heavy burthens, and he hastened to make
a trial of it. . - -
He succeeded in his attempt, and in half an hour's time,
the two stones, which could not have been stirred by four
men, 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 as
well as the vault over head consisted of one single stos
ne, in which there was not the least crack.
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 loſs.
Now he ventured to take a walk to the volcano, from:
which a black smoak still continued to issue. He was asto-
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 abyſs, only at a certain distance; because his
fear as well as the hot lava higdered him rom approaching
nearers
L 4 When
128 fºrm
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 2 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 be 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 2 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 leased 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
• ' - bent
-: 129
...”
bent eX on laying in provisions for-winter. For this purpose
he caught f ) eight lamas, one after another, in the same
manner as he had done the first. All these he killed , ex.
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 uns
derstanding of man, if properly exerted, in finding out
means to promote its happineſs 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. w - - -
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 k ) in it. His indefatigable industry finished
this work in a day and a half; and he covered the hole
Ł 5 - with
e) to bend. f.) to catch, g) to keep. H) to hang, ; ) to get, k)
to catch,
130 mºs'
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 loſs, 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 tº) ia , of about two ſa-
thoms deep, with now formed a second cavern, the ea-
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 art.
... Now he had three things more to do , in order to be
swfficiently 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 usa - -
He
w) to sink, y) to tread.
He was therefore not a little surprised, when he saw his
hay - rick began to smoke ; but his astonishment still encreas
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 on
the true cause, and supposed the moisture must have heats
ed it, tho’ he could not gueſs the reason.
John. But in what manner can mere dampneſs heat any
thing? r
Father. Dear John There are a thousand such pheno-
mena in nature, and human understanding, which, for
many hundred years has been searching after their true cau-
ses, 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 Physick s. 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 pleasn-
re. For the present it would be to no 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,
£) to teach.
132 gººd
isºmºrº-sº
wood , as he" thought necessary. Then he dug oy 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 I To
have nothing to do and to be quite alone! — My children,
you have no idea of what a man suffers under such circuin-
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 t 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. y = **** *-* * ~ *
It
o) to dig. p) to shake.
a
1t is true, his labour did not succeed directly; he was
obliged to make many a fruitleſs esſay ; but as he had no-
thing better to do it was a pastinie for him , and ſo he
amuſed 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 5 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 7) at it. *
Meanwhile these heavy rains continued. Robinson there-
fore saw himself obliged, to invent ſome other domestic
occupations, that he might not feel the tediousneſs of time.
His next busineſs was , to make a met 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. n *
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 lie might kill lamas, -
birds - and what was still more — defend himſelf in his
M has
f) to grow, r) to spin,
- { .-
#3; mm
ºf 3. • ,
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 ſame time; such
as would bend, and yet ſtiff enough to unbend again.
John. That was elaſtick, l suppose ? *
Father. Right! I did not think, you had minded the
signification of that word, and for that reaſon I would not
make uſe of it. " , *
Now after having found and cut this wood, he carried
it home, and ſet about it directly. But alas ! how ſensibly
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, 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 ſome folks, who would not have
had patience so long. º:
. . Theophilus. (to the rest) Papa means us
Father. Right, Theophilus 1 and don't you think I am
ºn the right? º *
Theophilus. Oh yes, but for the future I will always
work on, without any intermission , whenever 1 have once,
began it): a thing. t -
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
tW14
*) to ſpend. *) to keep, w) to begint
.**
-,
- - , cºw
- .* * - * *
“iºnſ ... tº
v. …” - -
*
twiſted a cord, as ſtrong as he possibly could; and them
proceeded to make arrows. * -
What would he not have given now for a ſmall bit of
iron, to make points to his arrows! but this wish was in
vain. – Whilst he was thus meditating at the entranº” of
his cavern, what to take to ſupply the iron, his eye" acci-
dentally fell on the lump-of gold, which was still Win8 °
- the ground as a contemptible thing. Away, ſaid he, kicking
it aside, thou useleſs thing, and become iron, if thou wilt
be esteemed by me ! After which he did not deign to look Jº
at it any more.
Having reflected a long while, he at length recollected s
to have once heard, that the savages use the bones of large
fish, and sometimes sharp stones to make points for *
darts and lances. In this he resolved to imitate them, and
at the same time to make a lance ; and this he execute"
immediately. He weat 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 Iance,
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 te his lance he had rea-
son to be still more satisfied with it.
Now his pots and his lamp seemed sufficiently died, he
therefore proceeded to "make use of them. First he put 3.
lump of tallow, which he had taken from the entrails of
" .. M a the
136 ===
*he 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
ſoon as it melted, ſoaked 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 haye the same fault, and consequently be of
little use : and so indeed they proved.
A very disagreeable circumstance this He had been greats.
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 himſelf to patience and had once for all
resolved to leave nothing unfinished, where there was the
least appearance of bringing it to perfection. r
He therefore placed himself into his musing-corner (so
he called a corner of his cavern, where lie used to sit,
whenever he was contriving any thing), and rubbed his fore.
head; , What may be the reason, " ſaid he to himself,
,, that the pots in Europe, which are also made of clay, are
so mnch more ſolid, 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
must be ſo I 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 2 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.
Ay, ay, so it is . That I must imitate.”
He really did ſo. He made a large fire in his kitchen, and
when
-s: ~~
when it was burning at its height, he put one of his pips
kins into the midst of it. But a moment after it went -
crack! — and the pipkin broke to pieces. – , Oh dear!”
cried Robinson, , who could have thought that?” &
He therefore returned to his musing - corner. , What in
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, didn't that likewi-
se crack 2 – And when did it not 7 — when it was placed
on the stove before it was quite bol. — Very well, now i
have it! Ay, ay, it is so; the vesſel must not at once be
put into the heat, but be warmed gradually — I must al-
so take care, to give the whole the same degree of heat.”
2, This head of raine is an excellent one t” he cried , jum-
ping up with joy and going to make a second trial.
This time he ſucceeded much better. The pipkin didn't
burst, but yet it would not become glazed.
; , And what can be the reason 7” theught 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 reſolution, 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, 2) He
M & ... could
N
y) to paſs,
... r
could scarce believe his own eyes, when he saw, that the
power of animating spring made new graſs, new flowers and
branches grow ; aud 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 " ' --
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 8 ame ,
that, like him, we may rise to morrow with the sun.
*:Saºs::s:=ºasºn-
E L E V E N T H E V E N IN G.
Theophilus. Father, now I should like, to be in Robiz-
& O F2 J Sli U a Ll One - -
Father. Indeed? ~ -
Théophilus. 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 arid salt
and lemons; and fish, and turtles, and oysters, and can
he not make butter and cheese of the milk he gets from his
lamas. -
Father. All that he has really had for ſome time already;
,---
H only forgot wo to mention it.
Theophilus. Why he has also a bow, arrows and a lane
ce, and a good place to live in, and what can he want
Tmore?
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 want
beſides this? * -
Fa-
e) tº forget,
146 *
Father. Much, very much not to say every thing. He
wanted that blessing without which there is no real happi- .
neſs on earth; he wanted company, friends, beings of
his OWWII 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
them feel, what it is to live in solitude. 4.
| Besides this, Robinson was yet very far, from having
every thing, he might still want for the future. All his
cloathes were worm ac) 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.' - º * -
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 his 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 waſps,
Robinson's face and hands were continually swelled with
them. What thea was he to suffer, when his cloathes
- * should
*) to wear. º
- 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
notbing 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 1
Charlotte. Oh, he should have addressed his fervent
prayers to God Altnighty, and he would certainly have sent
him a ship. -
Father. And so he did, dear Charlotte; he prayed day
and might to God Almiglity, for his deliverance from the
desolate island, but he never forgot to add : Yet, oh Lord!
not my will but thine be done 1 -
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 ſo, altho' I cannot discern
them ; and so I must only pray to him for my deliverance,
on condition, that his wisdon 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 ſevery ship, that might happen to paſs, could
see," that there was a person in distreſs. This was a post
to which he fixed a flag. " *
- Nº.
- *. - * * * • *. -
Iá2 s ºf
Micholas. But, where did he get the flag?
Father. That I will tell you. His shirt was now in such
fl 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 his po-
Wer 2 was to engrave the letters with his stone - knife. 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?
Jather. 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; ſo
he got it ready-
John. And what was it then? -
Father. Fert e o p em mi sero Robinsonio ! Do you uns
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 fiom 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 unſpeakably multiplied, so swelled up by
- ! * . -: their
p) to understand. .
their painful stings, that he did not look like a human.
€I'éâtu re. - - * - -
How often did he place himself in his musing morner, in
order to invent ſomething 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, appears
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 obſerving 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 os
bliged, to find out something or other, to prevent his pes
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 use
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 mer-
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,
44 tºº
...earth, as much as they can, according to their nature,
Js not this design very benevolent and worthy of his good-
meſs? -
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.
JDick. How so 2 ---
Father. Because we are preciſely the most ravenous,
the most deſtructive 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 , ſome-
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
ſy to this question?
Dick, ( at a loſs) Indeed I can not tell.
Father. My answer to her would be nearly as follows:
My dear ſly, 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 bis creatu-
res, that one must live upon the other. For had that not
been the caſe, le could not have created half so many ani-
mals, because graſs and fruits would have sufficed but ſor
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 exceſs and to the ruin of ano-
- pher,
= 145
ther, the wisdom and goodneſs of God orderød 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 7 Till then be discreet, as a poor insect that can not
possibly judge of what the inſinite wisdom of God is doing,
and we will give you an example in this.
What do you think, Dick, would the fly, if she was
capable of any reason, be satisfied with this answer?
Dick. For my part I am so :
Father. Well, let us go on with our Robinson 1
Necessity forced him, to make the best shift be 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 buskins
and laced on the sides like spatterdashes : as he could Ilot
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 not.
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 ever 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
#46 - lºº
*
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-
sist untill he had made himself also a jacket and a pair of
breeches, all of lamas skins. This indeed cost him still
smore trouble ; but what is there in this world to be had
without it 7 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
on, as soon as they were finished, with the resolution ne-
wer to wear his european clothes again, except on soleran
holy-days, and on the birth - days of his parents which he
.colebrated as holy- days.
He had now the most singular appearance in the world.
From head 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 is a lance, that was as long again as high-
self; in his left he held an umbrella, made of cocoa -
leaves and instead of a hat he wore a peaked basket, likes
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
$timself in a rivulet.
TNow 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
- put
.*
r) to wear. f.) to hold,
pat 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 nights
when he slaked it by degrees, and row he was very cu-
rious to see the result of it. But when he drew ty, out the
first pot, he found to his great surprize, that notwithstans
ding all his trouble, it was not glazed at all , nor was the
second, and so on with the rest. But at last, considering
one of the pipkins, he perceived with as much joy as as-
tonishment, that it was very well glazed at the bottom.
Now his head was puzzled. What in the name of won-
der, thought he , may be the reason, that this single
pipkin only is glazed a little, and not one of the rest 2 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
III 3 (1 Klēſ,
At last ha recollected, that there had been some salt is
this pipkin, before he had put it into the furnace. He there-
fore could not but thinks 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 chance,
was long since known in Europe. Salt is the true cause,
by which many things are turned into glaſs by the fire. Had.
he only rubben over the pots with salt water, or flung it)
a certain quantity of salt into the red-hot furnace; alº his
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
- N 2. in
t) to draw, s) to fligg,
in the midst of his labour, he was compelled to cease by
something, which he had feared a long while, by — a fit
of sickneſs. -
He found himselfi very qualmish, he was seized with a
violent head - ach, and felt a great wearineſs in all his S
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 2 When
there is no compassionate hand, to relieve me in my dis-
treſs? No friend to wipe away my deadly sweat, or to
reach me my refreshment? - Good God, what will become
of me?”
Quite oppressed with anguish, he fell down on the ground
at these words. - -
If ever he 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 t
What remained to preserve him from perishing in his mise"
ry 7 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 uts
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, 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
- from
s) to sink.
•e
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
1 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
mest conducive to my happineſs? Yes, yes, that my
bountiful and powerful father ceartainly will! Therefore be
thou silent, my poor oppressed heart! 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 hims
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 I 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 covera
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 hot one, which like a burning fire run thro' ali
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,
he had scarce power enough left, to lift the cocoa - nat.
shell with water to his mouth, to cool his burning tongue,
At last a dropping sweat broke out, which procured him
N 4 * SOs
156 tº
some relief. When he had been about an hour in this cons
dition, he recover'd his spirits a little. It was then, the
thought struck wo him, that his fire might go out, if he
did not put on fresh wood. He therefore, notwithstanding
his weakneſs, crept ac) 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. -
This night was the most grievous, he ever passed. Cold
and hot fits succeeded each other, without intermission.
The most wholent 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
to 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- nut-shell began to grow puttid; 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,
tº
ſº ') -
w) to strike, a) to creep, a to burn.
* - - - 15r
to comfort and bleſs 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 mu-
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 ox on his
shoulder, and all consciousneſs of existence left him.
Here all were silent for some time and honoured the mes
mory of their friend, tho’ they had never seen him , by sym-
pathy. — Poor Robinson 1 sid some sighing; God be prais-
ed said others , that he is now delivered from all his
sufferings 1 — And thus the company parted that evening
more tranquil and pensive than ordinarily,
s) to stop. 9) to drop,
?
Ns TWELF TH
sº
--~ **,
.*
T W E E, F T H E V E N T N G,
15- 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. *
Charlotte. Why, I thought he was dead H
John, Silence, Charlotte, perhaps he has revived again ;
don't you remember we supposed him dead once before and
mevertheleſs 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
his senses.
All. Oh! I am glad Î I am very gladt that he is not
yet dead Î 1 !
Father. With a deep sigh he began to breathe again, as
who could have thought it! – he recover'd
**sa. usual,
a) to tell. b) to lose, c) to fall.
- 153
usual. Then he open'd his eyes and look'd round him, as
if he would see, 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 , In Ot
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 heat, 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 bee
Fore. The violence of his illneſs had visibly abated; and
now he felt nothing but weakneſs. He even perceived some
appetite again, and ate a one of the roasted potatoes, on
which he 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 bim, 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 paſs 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.
Now the old she 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
Yºs certainly very wholesome for his sick body, for it re-
freshed him surprisingly. - zº
Now he again fell into a sleep, from which he did not
awake till sun - set, when he perceived his appetite to be
Inuch 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 goodneſs g f
his constitution contributed so much to the recovery of his
sirength , 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 liſted
his eyes up to heaven; a kindly refreshing beam of the mor-
ning sun shot & ) thro’ the trees on his countenance, and he
became as new born, ,, O thou eternal source of life?' cried
he , falling on his knees; God tº 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 tº 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 lº 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 l’’
After this short but hearty prayer, his eyes were delight-
ed with the sight of the vast blue, vault of heaven, and
with the trees and shrubs, that stood before him, adorned
y. with
a) to shoot.
-— 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 waters
which he mixed with milk, and the tranquil serenity of dris
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 oceupation.
His first busineſs was, to examine, what became of his
pots. He open'd the oven, and lo'ſ all his vessels were
so 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 heaving 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-
hend 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 I he might have ate smoked meat; that
needs not be boiled first. x - 3 * -
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.
Johns Well, and for what? ! ,
*Ras
iF6 - • * z*-viº “... *. 2 --> -
15 *—-
F ather. 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 1 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 ſastened a stick. With this instrument he 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, he re-
collected , that he could roast no more potatoes, because
he had no fire , which he had again forgot in the heat of
his occupation. There was now the fine butter ready, which
could not be eaten , and Robinson stood by it 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 2 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 lazineſs 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
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 , as we
use ourselves when young, so we generally remain for life,
lazy or diligent, clever or ignorant, good or bad.
Nicholas. ‘That we will observe' * *
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 2
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 have 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, that is also
made of oaken bark, in which they remain, till they are
quite done. * -
Father. Very well, John; but do you still recollect,
- O what
* --r
*- ërss - *Tºº
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, t
John. No 1
Father. And who prepares that?
Jokit. 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 2
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 Robinsen had known , how the skinners
dreſs their skins, he could not have imitated them, for want
of bran or leven.
Father. Do you see ? He therefore could not attempt it,
... Nicholas. Well, and what did he thens
Father. Day and might 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
solitude, 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 dan-
gers and make the continent, if possible. Fu!!
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
out, whether they would not serve for his sustenance?
Among the rest he found some stalks of indian cora or,
maize.
Nicholas. Ah I 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 its
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 gráns of it. For, thought
he, who knows, but I may learn, to make some very goed
use of it in time 2 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 beams, 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 1 now he may drink choch
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
O 2
olate for the
Wye
t) to go,
r
166 tº-
we know, he has neither fire nor sugar; to which many
kinds of spices are generally added, as cardamomum, va-
milla 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 lars
e 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 grówn a little
hollow with age. He therefore conceived the thought, that
--it would serve him , to make a boat, if ..Bg-gºald, 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 spots.
where the tree stood and went home undetermined.
On his return he found what he had long wished for , a
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 ſlew away, except one 2
which he caught hy. He was satisfied with having got one,
and hurried home with great joy:
Dick.
-> *
h) to catch.
== - I61
Dick. Of what great advantage could a parrot be to him
then? -
Father. He intended to teach him to pronounce some
words, that be might have the pleasure of hearing a human
like voice again, That pleasure does not indeed seem so
very great to us, who live in human society, who see and
hear men, who speak and eonverse 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 jeyfully 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, —
==s==========
O 3 THIR-
T H I R T E E N T H E V E N T N G,
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
his eyes.
All. Well, what was it?
Father. The question was , whether he should cut down
the old bread tree , which he discovered yesterday, in 1he
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 remains
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
- º 163
we will hear, what grounds each has for his opinion. -
So I Now, do you begin John ; why shall the tree be
saved 7
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 I -
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.
Theophilur. Yes, but do they grow big directly? And
perhaps they will not bear for four years, -
Frederis. 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? — with
a stone - hatchet !
Dick. Oh, if he only persists for some time and does
not grow weary of it, he may at length bring it abour.
Theophilus. ISut 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 1. Have you forgotten
& ), when we were near Travemunde on the Baltic, *)
when one of the sailors broke c ) his oar, in what danger
we were 7 Why Papa said, that, if the broken oar had.
O 4. *. been
a) i. e. he will b) to forget, c) to break.
w
*) The little company had been favour’d with that promised plea-
sure some time ago.
*
*r.
been quite useleſs, the other sailor afone 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,
never to do any thing again, without first having considered
the matter maturely; which he likewise did now. After hav.
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 had nothing. Soon after
he also recollected, that farmers sow out part of the corn,
which they already posseſs, 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 7" 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-
riably, because be only follow'd his greedineſs, without
:* considering, whether it was possible for him to get, what
* he wished for. But the husband - man acts reasonably, be
CúllS6
a) to drop.
cause he may with great probability hope 2 to reap more
corn, than he has sown.” &y -----
,, 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 bis 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 I 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.
~!
O 5. * At
*
a) to sow, b) to run.
166 |-|-
At day-break he got up, and ran to the spring, to wash
his head, hands, breast and feet. As he had 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
bleſs his dear parents. Upon which he milked his lamas,
of which he had by degrees rear'd a small stock. Part cf the
milk he placed in his cellar, and breakfasted on the rests
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 sea . shore 2 to
gather some oysters for his dinner. All his lanas 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 of working. Then he returned to the
sea-shore, 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 cº-
mates. Nevertheleſs he greatly longed for some meat, "
at last he could not forbear trying his old way of beating the
meat, to make it tender.
At dinner he amused himself with his parrot, and talk-
ed to him, in order to teach him , to pronounce 50m*
words.
Fre •
*
Frederie. 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 talk 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 come
municate his thoughts and sensations to some living being .
that he often forgot, he was speaking to brutes. And when
his parrot, which be 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 b) again entirely conscious of his deplorable so-
litary life, sighing; poor Robinson /
About two o'clock in the afternoon —
Wicholar. Ay, but how did he know then , what as
tlock it was 2
Father. He observed the very same clock, that is observe
ed by the country - people with us, the sun, and thence
he judged , what time of day it was. l
About two o'clock in the afternoon he used to return to
his ship-builder'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
a ) to feed, b) to sit.
163 - -
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
before his cave, to make the branches grow so as to form
a large bower in time.
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 day - light before that
{1}{16},
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 dexterily by degrees in both these exercises,
that he seldon 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: w
, ,, 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?
Has my heart felt any love and gratitude towards him? Have
I confided in him, when it went ill with me, and have
*- i In Ot
a) to spend.
= - 169
not forgotten him, when I was joyful ? 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-
neſs 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 l 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 imia
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
to a particular walk in the garden, in order to put his good
advice in execution immediately,
a) to lose.
P 1. F O U R.
F O U R T E E N T H E V E N T N G,
Now, my children, - continued the father the next eve-
ming, - 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? — Alast
the tree was not yet half scoop'd out, end it still seem'd
wery doubtful whether he should be able, with all his
industry, to finish the whole work in three or four years
xmore...l
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
1hought 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 ims
mediately determined, to begin his journey the next morn-
ing at break of day. -- *
\ + Nis
4) to grow,
* 1?r -
Nicholas. And how extensive might his island be 2
Father. About as large as the territories of Hambourgh,
the bailiwick of Rizzebuttel included, about four german miles
long and twelve in circumferences . :
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, re-
commended himself to the divine protection, and set out
with confidence. His intention was to keep as near the sea-
sliore 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 furs
ther he proceeded, the more he was convinced, that he
had chosen by his habitatien in the worst part of the is-
land. In many places he discovered fruil-trees, the like of
which he had not seen before , and which he dupposed
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'lk
shew you a sample afterwards, which I have received from
England. 1.
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
thunder-struck; d) he grew as pale as ashes and his whole
frame trembled, , * r
P2 John,
*) to meet; b) to chºse, c) to stop. d) to strike.
172 lºº
John. Why so?
father. He saw something, he did not expect to see;
* the prints of several human feet in the sand.
Aicholas. And that terrified him so much why, he
ought to be glad of that I
*a*er. The reason of his terror was this: in that mo-
nent he figured to himself the man, the prints of whose
feet he saw, not as a brotherly affectionate being, ready
to help and serve him 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.
Theophilus. Yes, I dare say; no wonder, he was so
terrified. -
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, as to
lose presence of mind. And that, my dear children, we
can all compaſs, 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
3 Os
- 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 your understanding , and extricate
yourselves from difficulties; in ine, 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, -you.
will grow sound and strong, both in body and soul; then
you will remain unconcerned in every vicissitude of fortune,
because you are then firmly convinced, that nothing can
happen to you, but what is sent a). you , for your good,
by our wise and most bountiful God. –
$ i
Qur Robinson, you see, was not yet come so far in that,
firm.neſs 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 se,
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 sion,
o) to send, b) to lead, c) to stand,
174 * [ . . . . .
sion, at the sight of these prints of human feet in the sand.
He looked fearfully arround him, listened with great anxie-
ly to the least rustling of the leaves, and, in his confu-
eion, 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
— he 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
prutish, like wild beasts, had neither aversion nor huma-
mity, 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
war, to roast, and afterwards devour them with great avi-
dity in singing and dancing.
Charlotte. Fie! what detestable creatures I f
Father. Their inhuman manners, my dear Charlotte, we
will detest, but not the poor people themselves , who can-
not
e) to tell.
* ‘I 75
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 l 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 human
flesh. But the English who have discovered that island, will
know , how to civilize them.
Frederic. That will be well done
Pather. 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. w
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
s) 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 he 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 ſound all his things lying on the graſs by him,
This and all what happened to him before, seemed a dream
to hier ; 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 1 *
He got up again; but the vehem,ence 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 infechled , that it was impossible-
for him to continue running as fast as he had done fl be
fore,
£) to ſling, c) to fly. d) to fling, e) to do, -
177:
fore, though his fear urged him on as much as ever. He
felt no hunger 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 in closure , 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 1,
Nickolas. Pray, what was it 2 *
Father. He heard a voice as from heaven, calling to him
quite distinctly : Rob in s on po or Robin son, w her a
have you be en P how came you hither 2
Theophilus. Bleſs me ! What could that be?
Father. Robinson started up in the utmost confusion Aſ
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 — what do you think?
All. Ah, who can know that ||
4. P 5 Fa-
f) to keep.
Father. He saw , what the fearful would generally
find, if they would only take tine 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.
.#72. Ah t - - -
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, and
continued to chatter : Robinson, poor Robinson, where
have you been 2
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? — he 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 iay in ; then the
inclosure before it, and let his lamas run, where they
pleased. Then he would also demolish his habitation, and
the
g)- to teach, h) to come,
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, Papai Thank you for your interest-
ing story !
*Sºszºs–s: ºssºms
F I F T.
F 1 F T E E N T H E V E N IN G.
( The F ather proceeds.)
M, 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 immoderate 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 to warri
you , never to execute any hasty resolutions especially in
things, that may be deferred, but rather leave it to the
following day, if possible.
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
GVer
~. T 15i.
'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.”
Now he reproached himself in the bitterest manner, for
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 7
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 holy will, yet we must neglect nothing on our side, that
may contribute to our safety and happineſs, For God Al-
mighty 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 habita-
tion, to hinder his castle from being seen at a distances
For this purpose he planted by degrees near two thousand
stiks of some kind of willows, the easy and quick growth
of which, he had already experienced. These he did not
Q plant
a) to throw. -
182
plant in rows, but in an irregular manner on purpose, so
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
same 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 side-ways ( which is called horizontally ), the earth
would fall down on their heads, if they did not prop its
Thus they fix it with posts and croſs = beams, and our Ro-
'#inson worked in the same manner.
All the earth, he dug out of this passage, he threw 3)
against his wall, so that it at last became a rampart eight
foot thick and ten foot high. He left small openings in se-
veral parts of it, like embrasures 2 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 necess
sary , from the top of the rampart.
Now he seemed to be sufficiently secured against any sud-
- den
*) to throw.
183
den attack. But, if the enomies should take it in their
heads, to besiege him in due form 2 how then 7
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
from one day to another, and keep them as long as he
coulde. .
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 ship - wright's work.
Thus some years rolled over again, in which there hap-
pen'd nothing remarkable. I hasten therefore to one of the
most important accidents, which had a greator influence on
the fate of our good friend , than any thing, that bad hi-
therto happened to him in his island. $.
When Robinson was busy working at his boat on a fins
-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 hina
on, 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 2 SC diſ-
e) to foresee,
***rce ascended the hill, when to his greatest astonishment
he discovered five canoes or small boats, and at least thirty
*Y*ges about a large fire capering and dancing about the
*ames with barbarous gestures and marks of joys
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 Iesolution, and streng-
then’d his mind by a short prayer, when his heart became
so easy 2 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 turn. 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
outrun his pursuers; fear and horror on the contrary , be
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
he 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 Iun-
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 scarcs
half crossed the creek:
At this moment Robinson felt himself animated with more .
courage, than he 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 fore
mer with a loud thundering voice, jumping forward from
among the bushes; stop 1 - 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 corne 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
his 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:
d) to shew, s) to beholds .* - ‘. . . . .
hind, stopt fy 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 3 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 is 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,
1.issed 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, liſted 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
till more to be done, -- One
f} to draw. - --
armºnims 187
One of the savages, who in all probability was not mor-
tally wounded, and had only got a wound in his belly,
began to come to himself pulled up some grate 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 ran
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 carcaſs in the sand, that his comrades, in case
they came to look for him , mtght not find him. Robinson
lawing signified that he approved his precaution, the savage
was so nimble with his hands, that in leſs, 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 a
murderer. -
Frederic. Why, he had only killed savages; what did
that signify 7
Q 4 Chara
h) to cleave,
Charlotte. But nevertheleſs they were ment
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 7
what do you think of it, John 2.
John, I think, he was in the rights
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 2 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 2 * - :
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. — l
Theophilus, Arid they would all have come and killed
Robinson himself. . . .
Frederic. And devour'd him afterwards I
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
'?ives', as long as we possibly can. If therefore any one
will kill us, it must be light , to kill him first, to prevent
his killing us. t -
Father. To be sure, my dear children, such self - de-
fence is allowable by divine and human laws, but – ob-
serve me well! in that case only when there is no other
* Y6 A
W.
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-
S-I X. T E E N T H E V E N IN G.
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:
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 come-
rades and look for their deserted prisoner?' And if they did
so , how much was it not to be feared but they would dis-
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-
sters at a distance. He deliberated hastily , whether he had
best flee, or return to his castle º One thought of God,
the protector of innocences gave him strength and courage
to chuse the latter. He therefore crept, a) on his hands
and
a X to creep.
* 191
and feet to avoid being seen , behind some low bushes
towards his rope - ladder, and ordered bis 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 he 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 have
ing never been away from his village, sees a palace for
the first time.
Robinson gave him to understand by signs, what he aps
prehended for them both from his barbarous country a 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 sights
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, C 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 nears
* * * upon which a dreadful silence ensued again,
Now —
Char-
charlotte. Oh Papa, I shall run away, if they come!
Frederic. Fie! who whould be such a coward
Theophiluſ. Let them alone, Charlotte Robinson will
- fight them; I am not at all afraid of that.
Charlotte, Well, you'll see, they will certainly murs
der him.
John. Oh, be quiet t
JFather. Now they heard 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 :
2, To afford you another opportunity, by which you may
moderate your desires t 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 pere
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 * }, . . - -
+ In
c) to break.
*) 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 des-
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 had 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 canoes. They therefore laid down their
arms, and Robinson went to fetch some of his provisions
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 ihe savage, he had saved a
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. ... r. -
One of our Robinson's principal virtues was bashfulneſs.
Noth withstanding he was very hungry, yet he took time
first, to cut an apron for his naked companion out of an
R old
a X to hold. b) to break.
rest Pleasures with a smiling countenance; and they will do well 3.
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 dome the first
time, in short, he made all the antic gestures imaginable
to expreſs 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,
me, 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-
atand 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 proger 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
ef the lance, put it into his master's hands, and placed
- the
4) to draw.
º 195
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.
Loek 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 necessity 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 & D royal authority and the duty of obedience
and submission to one man or more, under whose protecs
tion we live. -
Robinson was now a real king, only that his dominion;
reached no further, than oyer 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.
Pºr, not to let his subject — who was now at the same
R 2 time
d) to arise.
*.
* .
Y96 - - -
time his first minister of state and his valet de chambre,
his general and his army, his groom of the bed chamber,
high steward of his houshold etc. — sleep in his own cavs
* 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
* his greater security carried all the arms into his OWN Il
bed - chamber. ---
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-
mished 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 Roºinson'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
busineſs . how to do it for the future 1 —
: Here the father stopt, to give time for the general laughs
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 mourishing and whole-
some food. He . had never drunk any milk, and he was
there:
e) to write,
— 197
etherefore quite charm'd with the agreeable taste of it, whea
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 hav-
ing turned from him the dangers of the day, and for has a
ing sent him a human creature to assist him. *
R 3 S E.
SE VENTE ENT H E v EN IN G.
J.ohn, 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 r
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, liſted up his lance with threat-
ening 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
ceive,
f) to keep. g) to slay,
tº 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 piecess of mangled flesh's 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 leſt Robinson , who , not knows
ing his design, was quite petrified at his sudden flight.
,, What can be the meaning of this 7” thought he to
himself, looking earnestly after him. , Could the ungrate-
ful, wretch for sake me, and even deprive me of my hatchet 2
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 P -- abominable ! abomi.
nable J" he cried, and seized his lance, fired with indigº
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 ſº
R 4 when
h) to begin. - ".
2CO mºn
when he suddenly saw Friday returning in full speed. Robin.
son stood #) quite stupified, and saw with surprise, that his
supposed traitor had his hand full of dried graſs, from
which some smoke arose k). Soon after when it took fire,
Friday flung l) it to the ground, put more dried graſs and
wood upon it, and Robinson in that moment 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 suspición. - %
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 addreſs, 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 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
- Sll 3s
5) to stand, k) to arise. 7) to fling, m) to lose,
suspicion grounded , and for falling into such a passion ,
as not to suppose, that Friday might still be innocent. -
No, our diſfidence of other people must never go so far ,
if we have not the surest proofs of their infidelity before us.
ln doubtful cases we must always suppose the best, but
never the worst,
Father. A very good maxim 1 Mind that, my children-
Now our Robinson was, as I told you, out of his wits
for joy, when he saw 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 flanes. 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 ſlew 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.j
Charlotte, [ know what he was going to make 1 — 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,
2ca;. tºº
ſ
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 7 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 selflowe
prompted him to escape thro’ his concealed passage under
ground, and to gave his own life. But he quickly rejected
this idea because he justly thought it a baseneſs, to abans
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 petil 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 cone
torsions. He stood a good while quite stupified, not know-
ing what to think of it. At last they came to an explanation
and
205
~
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 sup-
pose to have power over one or more spirits, they call a
sorcerer or wizard, and if it is a woman, a sorcereſs or witch .
If a horse or a cow, belonging to a poor ignorant coun.
try man , fall suddenly ill, and he 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 undes
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
béwitched; but that, at the same time for a certain sum
of
*.
of money, they are able to cure such an animal by couns
tercharms or force the sorcerer or evil spirit to desist. Thea
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 charm
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, * x * º
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
Wa 9 a Sorcer €r. -
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 wonderſul 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 iſ 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
- Ollº
* - - - - - ?-,
our Friday, and be assured, that you are in the same
case , 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.
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
upon , 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,
S he
a) to eat.
ioë,
he thought himself in another country, may 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 sem-
sation of pain, we think incurable I think it needleſs to
tell you, that Robinson did not forget, to thank the Giver
of all good things with loye and gratitude, whilst he was
enjoying this new gift of his divine bounty.
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-
rent, a much more agreeable appearance. His life was
no longer solitary 3 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 be , 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 abuns
dance of every thing), and make myself amends for the hard.
ships and want, I suffered these last years, by ease and
good cheer 1 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 7 thought he, if all my present happineſs
should at once cease ? If Friday should happen to die? If
l should again lose my fire *" A cold shivering ran thro' all
his limbs at this reflection-
2, And, thought he, if by a soft and voluptuous life I
indulged myself so much, that it were impossible for me to
* res.
*} to strike,
ºoz
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 have
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 1 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.
ton's command to milk the lamas.
In the interim Robinson was thus going on meditating:
3, 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 I were henceforth to lead
an easy and voluptuous life f how soon would ſ become
presumptuous, arrogant and even forget God Almighty 2
That’s dreadful! dreadfull 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 on
S 2 tha
£) to lend.
acs - . . . . )
the same raw victuals, on which I have hitherto subsistent
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 mighl far from me
in my summer- place.” -
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 • ****** and
temperan ce. Now, my children, 1 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 79* thoughts
on it, as 1 intend telling you mine-
d) to know, e) to foresees
-es=2&======"
E I G H Tº
EIGHTE ENTH EVEN IN G.
The following day the young tolks 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 f ). Then they came running and crowding about
the father, in so much that he was obliged to retreat to a
graſs - bank, to prevent his being crushed by them. .
Father. Well, what's the matter, what's the matter?
All. One favourt dear Papa one favour ! -
Father. Well let me hear it!
All at once. Oh I should like — oh ſ should be glad —
'oh and I —
Father. Hush | Nay; I don't understand a single word ,
if you will all speak together. Let one speak after the other i
Dick, do you begin! * -
30ick. I, Nicholas and John would beg leave, not to eat
any dinner to-norrow,
Theophilus. I, Frederic and Charlotte would beg to eat
nothing but a bit of dry bread for breakfast to - morrow, and
no supper, |
Father. And what is your reason for that?
S 3 John.
f) to strike,
tºohn. Nay, we would learn to be master of ourselves.
Aicholas, 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
* leave , not to go to bed to - morrow, but sit up the
whole night. ºf
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 on condition, that you do it willingy 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 might. - *
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 1 Bravo! — Now, should I alone be be.
hind on the road to perfection ? — Hear, what I have res
solved to do I -
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"
yment, 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
* A ~ : * ~ * ~ * v- , - s” there •
i
}
therefore I'll neither smoke nor take any snuff; from this
day forward I'll drink no more tea nor coffee, no beer nor
wine, except on birth-days and other festivals , then we
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: , he
will copy (S) Diogenes;" another will say ś , the man is
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 beads 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 com:
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. - l
Now, my children. these exercises of abstinence and
self-denial , which we have resolved upon, will be suffis
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 returaed to a
natural and simple way of living.
(S) Diogenes was a man, who denied himself every thin which
was not absolutely necessary for the support of life. ry § 2.
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 iate made him no
leſs uneasy- --
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 nake a pretty broad
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 2
John. Have you forgot that again I Don't you remember
the pointed posts, which Papa put close together about one
of the ravelins of our little fortleſs, - 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 ſlow thro' the middle of his yards
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, r
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, iſ 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,
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 d flieulties 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 go od courage 1 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.
It was the same now. Both he and Friday worked, from
early in the morning till late at night, with such vigour and
earnestneſs, that it is surprising, how much the work ad.
wanced every day, notwithstanding their wretched tools,
Luckily the wind blew hº from such a quarter during two
months, that is was impossible for the savages to visit Ro.
Dinson's island. Consequently they needed not fear being
surprised by them, r
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 *** ** desirous of learning, that he could in a short
* comprehend a great deal of it. In this Robinson did
just as We do with you, when we teach you Latin or French;
* often as he could he shewed him the object, he spoke
* * 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 1 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-nas
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 leſs 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 then to kill bim
with their arrows or with their long lances. They had theres
fore pretly well provided for their security. J
One day, when Robinson and Friday were on a rising
ground near the shore, from whence they had a free pros-
; pect
i) to speak. k.) to become.
- ... ." 215
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 1 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 aps
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. R *"
Robinson. Would you them 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 I
Robinson. Why, but they do eat human flesh!
Friday. Yes, but only the flesh of the enemies, they
have slain k).
Røs
k) to slay.
216 | Cº-
Robinson. Could you make a boat, pray, to go over in 2
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, that my dear master is angry
with me. * - -
Robinson. Angry 2 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, Triday does
not wish to be there neither. -
Robinsom. 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 mass
ter’s side , put it into his hand and held out his head for
him to cleave it.
Robinson. What do you want?
Friday. Kill me, better kill me, than send me away?
At which words the tears gushed into his eyes. This aſ
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 bee
ing able to make a boat. He took him therefore by the
hand and led lj him to the place, where he had been
work-
!) to lead,
|-º-T 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 1
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
mo 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 ocs -
cur that can defer finishing the boat and hinder their depare
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 bouutiful Providence, who knew much better
than himself, what was most expedient for him.
m) to shake, -,
- T N I N E-
N IN E T E E N T H E V E N IN G.
T)aring the assemblage of the company the next evening a
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
fasting 2 t -
All. Oh, very well! very well.
Father. You see, I am myself alive too, though I had
nothing to day but water and milk.
Aicholas. If that be all, I think I could fast still longerſ
All. So could It And I too! Why, that's nothing
'at all ! *.
Father. There is no occasion for fasting any longer; it
might also prove permicious to your healths ; but if you de-
sire it, “I’ll propose some other exercises, that will be
equally useful. g
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-
* trie
m). to do.
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 withs
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."
selves have courage enough to accomplish. Do you consent
to this proposal 7
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
*.
22O . . .
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.
4ll. What was it, pray? what pray?
Father. I observed that, in human life, we are often
suddenly disappointed in our surest hopes ; and that there •
fore Robinson, however probable and near his deliverance
seemed to be, might meet with some upforeseen 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 rainy season , which generally lasted
one or two months, 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 2 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 daiaties. 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, ſº is indeed painful! But cheer up your
minds, it gives you ºn excellent opportunity of exercising your con-
rage and patiences and of preparing you to bear Pain like men for the
n be voluntary and without con-
fºre. But this exercise must agai e
straint, or else . it is without use. Whoever will therefore undergo
** – They all cried : yes, yes , , yes. 3
* . - let him Say Yes •
**ś º, and vied with each other, who should
He the first; then they placed themselves by turns before the dentist
jith undaunted courage, and - I sºy h9, 9. 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 3 pay 3 most §f them were constantly laughing. The dentist
was astonished, and declarºd, 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.
ſº- - 22I
health. What was he therefore to do now ºf 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 : For-
merly he was obliged to paſs these dismal evenings alone in
idleneſs and in the dark, whereas he now sat o X 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 py him several little arts, by which the sa=
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 falt, how
good it is for mankind to be held 4) together by sociable.
neſs and friendship , and not to be roaming about the world
single, like brutes,
Among other things Friday understood the art of making
baſs - Inats , 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 1
Friday moreover understood the art of making rope, of
the filaments, which inclose the cocoa-nuts and of several
kinds of flaxy herbs, which were far superior to thoss ,
which Robinson had hitherto made. He could make fishing-
T 3 Ilê tº
w) to sit, p) to teach. 4) to hold.
3.22. . .
mets 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
was , 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! Toupam 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 your countrymen go , when
they die?
Iriday. They go to Toupam.
Robinson, Where does he live then 7
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, what he has said.
Robinson, Are then the people happy with him after
their death 2 *
Friday. Oh yes, if they have killed and eaten a great
many enemies, t
} Ro.
r) to mean.
- + 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
has 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
abhors 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.
Friday hearken'd to these sublime and comfortable instruce
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, as his
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, may 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 l’’
From this period forward Robinson always said his prayers
in Friday's presence; and it was an affecting sight, to
see , 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.
Thus the rainy season passed without appearing heavy to
them. The sky already began to clear up; the storms were
bushed , and the heavy rain - clouds were dispersed. Ro-
T 4 pin-
- 224. g m *
hinson 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-
neſs to the important work, they had resolved upon before
the rainy season-
Friday, as Master in the art of ship - building, began to
Shollow out the trunk of the tree with fire. This went so
fast and so well, that Robinson could not forbear calling
himself 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
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 lis
men, neither had he a loom for its but he could, as t
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
had nothing more to do , than to launch the vessel they
had made. S \
Frederic. What's the meaning of that?
, Father. Tid you never see , when they let a new - built
ship run from the banks of the Elb, where it was built,
into the water
. Fres
...”
- 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 3) their boat, was unfortunately for them some thou-
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 7
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 se
tedious, that he foresaw t), it would employ them a whole
month at least. He luckily at last recollected such an other
simple instrument, which carpenters and other mechanicks
generally use in Europe to remoye heavy burthens, I mean
rollers -
Frederic. What are tollers f
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 - In
f) to build, t) to foresee.
225 -
In two days they got it into the water, and it was no
small joy for them both to see, that it answer'd their 6X*
Pectation perfectly. - f
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
some 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 leſs 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-
tians for their departure the very next morning, and to sail
with the first favourable wind to where , according to Fri-
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-
SS ced
ºmmºn- - s - .
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 fruits -
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 mature so quiet, that they all cons
fessed the next morning, that they had never past a day . .
much leſs a night with greater pleasure, than this-
T. W. E. N.
T W E N T I E T H E V E N IN G.
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 I
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 bedeved his cheeks. Then putting up his open arms
to heaven, he addressed the Almighty with fervent devotion :
Oli, thou my dear, dear heavenly Father, how am I
to thank thee for all thou hast hitherto done for me B6-
hold (falling on his knees) here I lie in the dust before thy
allseeing eyes, unable to expreſs 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
amend-
w) to stop,
* mamm 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 I Do with me according to thy will. On-
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 I For the
rest, let my fate be, whatever they divine wisdom has dee
creed. I go, wherever thou wilt lead me ; I go with cous
rage, confiding in thee, to meet every new danger, that
may await me. Be thou with me with thy invisible presen.
ce; watch over my immortal soul, and strengthen it in
every temptation of despondency, impatience, and ingrati-
tude, which I may chance to fall into towards thee, oh,
thou eternal heavenly love, my Creator, my Father my
God I 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 oomfort, 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 for-
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, as if he had been
U. obliged
a) to bring. B) to ſling,
23o ;: -
obliged to leave so many friends. And at last when he pers
ceived his lamas grazing at the foot of the hill, he was
obliged, to turn away his face, in order to keep to the
resolution, he had taken to depart.
At last the struggle was over. He took courage, and with
open arms, 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 welli — 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 on
his shoulder, where it remained. Thus Robinson join’d
Friday, who waited for him with impatience, and they both
went into the boat. s
It was on the thirtieth day of November about eight o'
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 I tell us first, what is a ch aim 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,
- - - Mi-
s) to hides
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
wboth 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? *****
I'ather. 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
vessels, 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 2 poor Robinson, what will be your
fate now 2. -
Charlotte. Why did he not stay in his island I thought
some mischief 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. U 2 The
d) to break, e) to bear, f) to befall. t
252 lºº-
They both now exerted all their strength with their oars
in order to get the boat out of the current; but in vain l
An irresistible force carried them away with the swiftneſs of
** arrow , and now they saw nothing more of their island,
except the bills. Their destruction seemed now inevitable ;
for in leſs than half an hour the tops of the highest moun-
rains 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.
Fre deric. No — 2
Father. No compaſs , I say. Nicholas, who is to be
captain of a ship , will tell you what that is.
Nicholas. C 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 -
*rederic. Ay, but what is a magnetic needle 7
Wicholas. That is a needle made of steel, which has
been rubbed on a certain stone, called a loadstone or a
magnet, by which it acquires a wonderful quality, to wit:
that it always points towards the North — that way - tos
wards Wandsbeck. By this compaſs the marines steer their
course, 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?
Frederic. Yes! I do, now please to go on 1
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 his signation then be 7 To be tossed about on the
wide ocean in a small unsafe boat , and to have provisi-
ons only for a few days — can there be a situation more
dreadful ? -
But
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 posseſs them, how could
lie have born g) the oppressing burthen of this new dis-
treſs 2 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. -
His companion, whose piety was not yet so well ground-
ed , nor fortified by so many and long sufferings, as his
master's, was very near despairing. Unable to work any
ionger, 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 migery, that awaited them, by a speady death ;
Upon which Robinson first talked to him with mildneſs, and
endeavour'd to encourage him ; then he reproved him in a
friendly tone for Iris want of trust in the all directing divine
providence, and reminded him of what he had laught 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 herº,
if he please, compel those furious waves to carry us again
to some place of safety? Or do you think, you can escape
his power by throwing yourself into the sea? Kaow, ins
considerate 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 rea
bel against God, and does not wait, till it be called by,
its Creator 1 ° * <
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 3 vis
g) to bear.
234
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 sav -
ing themselves 1 -
But when all human assistance vanished, when the calaš
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 appeara most visi-
bly, to interpose, and to save us by such means, as we
could in no wise foresee. This was the case now. Whilst
Robinson himself had given up all hopes of life, and left
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 trous
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 leſs rapid,
and on which their boat was now floating, turned towards
the South. p \
With unspeakable joy lie now cried to his companion ;
who was almost dead : ,, Cheer up , Friday I God Almighty
will have us preserved 1’’ Then he shew’d him the visible
2- foun-
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 succeſs. Robinson,
who from a long series of misfortunes was accustom'd to fix
his attention on every particular, observed 2 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 i) aloud for joy, jump'd up, and was going
to embrace his master, who desired him s 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, exs
cept some little black spots on the horizon,
Frederic. Horizon 7 what’s that?
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 2
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. - Ro-
h) to spend, i) to weep, k) to blow,
Robinson to his companion, who was sitting in the fores
part of the boat, with his back to the island; cheer up,
!” He had scarce
Friday ; our misery is drawing to an end
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 willing 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. tº-
All, Oh I
- *-*-
t - 2-ºr º-e?
+rºssºsºgºs::szºw-
T w E N.
T W E N TY FIR S T E V E N IN G.
(Some of the children speaking at once).
Oh, make haste, dear Papa, that we many learn, what
has befallen poor Kobinson /
Father. Just when he thought himself in safety, he 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 l ) fast all at
once , 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. -
Robinson immediately began sounding the ground with hia
oar, 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 seas Friday follow’d his example, and they
both found that they were only on a sand-bank and not
on a rock. s wº.
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 , as .
he has got wet feet.
Father. When people are so harden'd by an active and
U 5 Ila"
l) to stick. *r
natural way of living, as Robinson was, they do not catch
cold by such triſles. 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, that our manner of living has already
harden'd you a little. — --.
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, be-
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. -
Frederie. What is stranded, pray?
'Iheophilus. Oh, why do you always interrupt Papa?
Father. Why, it is laudable in him to desire to be in-
structed l But you are wrong, ray dear Theophilus, to
blame him for it ! Beware of that for the future 1 — To
strand, dear Frederic, is when a vessel runs on such a
sand-bank or upon a rock, and can not get off again.
Frederic. *Thank you , dear Papa
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 in) h’s last beams on the tops
of the mountains, and landed quite fatigued, tho' excee-
dingly glad of their happy preservation. Neither of them had
s täS is
m) to shoot.
— 239
tasted a bit of any thing the whole day. They could not
therefore wait till their return to the castle 2 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 ? -
John. 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
say, the boat into a creek , and went home carrying back
every thiug they had had in the boat. -
Nicholas. Oh, you have not done I hope”
Father. Robinson and Friday have betaken themselves to
rest, and the latter is already in a profound sleep , whilst
the formet 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. -
, Well, Friday,” said Robinsort at breakfast, , have
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 f
Friday. If my father were but here !
Robinson. So your father is still alive 7
Friday. Unleſs he died since I left him
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
obliged to wipe his eyes. Both observed a mournful silence
for some time,
Re.
m) to draw.
240 tº ºl
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.
,, My children l cried the mother, what an example of
filial piety in a savage 1 in a savage, who has no obligas
tions to his father for any education; or any instructions,
who owes him only his life, and even a wretched life I’’
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 stifle
this innate impulse, and grow indifferent to his parents.
may even cause them purposely grief and sorrow t If you
should ever meet with such a monster: oh, never remain
with him under one rooſt 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
might because he had often been of those parties, when they
came over to celebrate their victories.
Robinson. So you were often amongst them , when they
killed men?
Friday. Oh yes!
Robinson. And did you share in their feasts?
Friday. I did, alas ! t did not know then, that there
was any thing bad in it 1
** * Roe
*
24;
Robinson. On which side of the island did you use to
land 3 - *
Friday. Always on the eouth side, because it was the
nearest, and also because there are cocoa trees.
By this Robinson saw more plainly, how much reason he
had to thank God for having suffer'd him to be cast on the
north - side of the island rather than ou 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 sorne useful instruments. Robinson,
whose power of invention and patience were equally in ex-
haustible, even succeeded in making a rake, tho' he was
obliged to make the holes for the teeth you may easily
gueſs , 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 provid.
ing for their safety, they never thought of applying to those
arts, which serve to enbellish 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 pro-
4) to dig.
242.
%
provided for their sustenance and safety, they began to unite
beauty with utility and pleasure with the necessary, Titus
arose architecture, painting, sculpture , musick and the
rest comprised under the name of liberal a r to:
Robinson began with improving and embellishing his garº
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; he 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
Gnd 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 lie 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 i.e.
of any more of those harmleſs creatures , than we want for
our daily sustenances \
On these occasions they generally used to bathe themselves
too; and Robinson could not foibear admiring the aste-
nishing dexterity of Friday in swimming and diving. He
COXIls
b) to catch.
243
eammonly chose some 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 clinost incredible.
Robinson could not help admiring the astonishing capacity of
fuman nature , which renders us fit for every thing, to
which we bave been accustomed from our youth.
On other days they diverted themselves with hunting, be-
cause Friday was also master in making as well as in using
the bow and arrows. They shot birds and young Jamas; but
never any more than illsy wanted, because Robinson, as I
8vid before, thought it a cruelty, to torment and kill any
animal whatever for mei e amusement.
Though Robinson surpassed Friday with respect to under-
standing and in many other things, the latter knew many
little arts, that had been liitlerto unknown) to his master ,
and that were now of great use to them. He cºld 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 irch. Thus for instance
he made a chisel, of a man's thigh - bone, which he had
found by chance ; a rasp, of coral ; a knife, of a shell ;
a ſile , of the sharp skin of a fish. With these he made a
great many pieces of furniture, which greatly encreased the
conveniencies of their lives.
Friday shew’d his master moreover, 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.
V 2
Ill O. In a
244 serºszºw
*nly eat this dough raw ; but Robinson baked it first on
* hot stone, and used it afterwards as we do bread. -
Besides this Friday taught 2) 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
* Very Palatable food, and at the same time very nourishing
and wholesome. -
Ro"inson, who was always very fond of making new
trials, pounded some of them 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? -
Father. Yes, except that spices and sugar were wanting
in it. — Thus the provisions of our good Robinson encrea-
sed by degrees, and with them the source of his pleasures.
Bul to bis praise I must say, that he persevered neverthes
leſs in his late resolution, and continued to live as mode.
rately and as simply, as he had begun.
TNow they boib made long and frequent excursions through
the island, especially on such days, when the wind was
so, 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. *
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 Feiday
and 1 should fall a sacifice to their abominable and inhu’
IIla ſl
1) to teach.
#5
man appetite 2 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 2 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 of
God, to set out with him the next morning.
For this purpose they pushed the boat, that had hitherto
laim 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
Jama, 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 he 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
ail the stones together with the ashes out of the hole, as
fast as he could, laid some of the hot stones on the bottorn
of the hole, and cover'd them with green Cocoa • leaves.
V 3 Upon
h) to drive. i.) 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. t
Father. It is so.
Theophilus. Do they then eat dogs 3
John. To be sure I Did not we read so last winter :
and 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. .
INow, my children, all the preparations for their in.
tended voyage were made. We will therefore let our two
travellers rest for this might , and then see, to morrow
evening what is become of them.
T W E N.
Tw ENTY SEC O ND Eve NING.
Father. Robinson and Friday had scarcely slept an bour ,
When the former was suddenly awoke k) by a violent thun-
der-storin. 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 guns
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 ſlaming fire-brand and ran up
his 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. -
V 4 Now
g) to awake,
248 r --
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 be doubted whether, it might not all be thunder 2
During the whole night be 1; evertheleſ, 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
now, as he formerly was 2... . - -
Father. You see, this foolish fear has left him now ;
and what may be the reason of it?
Johit. Because he has a good conscience now.
Father. Very right I 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 sea-shore, to see whether what he had supposed ,
was true or not? But the first thing they saw , was extre-
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
- X. - 6 Os
s) to tear.
- = 249
some time quite speechleſs, his staring looks fixed on the
ground and his whole soul seemed to be absent. Then he
broke out into a flood of tears, wrung b ) his hands, beat
his breast and tore c) his hair.
Robinson, who from his own misfortunes had learn'd to
sympathize with the unhappy, pitted 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 7 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-
prived us of our boat; that's all!” – So, replied Robin.
son, because you and I, both short - sighted beings, can
perceive no other effect of the storm but the kofs of our
boat : you imagine, that God the all wise director of all
things had no other reason for sending it 7 Senseleſs young
man, how dare you judge of the designs of God Alsº
mighly 1 – ---
,, Ay, but of what service could it be to us?” said Fris
day. Is that a question, which I can answer said Roe
binson, Am I omniscient, to be able to understand the
designs of the ruler of the world? I may indeed suppose
somethings but who can tell me, whether I have guessed
right 7 Perhaps there were so many unwholesome vapours
gathered together in our island, 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 Fri-
b) to wring. c) to tear.
Friday recollected himself, repented of his rashneſs, and
*ubmitted to the will of Providence. In the mean time Ro-
Pinson's eyes were wandering about on the surface of the
ocean 2 whether he could not discover a ship soune 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 af
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 he had 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, yhan he saw the accomplish.
ment of bis dream t - .
All. Oh dear! - : w
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
breathleſs 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 1 quick 1 and thus he got up his ladder
again in the greatest hurry.
Friday concluded from his master's confusion , and ſrom
his broken words, that the savages were come. He there-
- forg
* massrººs 251
fore took up his arms likewise, and ran after his master
with all speed. -
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, Ro-
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 ſlung himself into Friday's arms and beg-
ged him with tears in his eyes 2 to rejoice also :
Now they were going to Europe — to Hamburgh . Then
he sliould see , how the people lived there ! What hou.
ses they could build How conveniently, how quietly,
how agreeably people lived there 1 — The torrent of
his words was inexhaustible, He would perhaps have
continued speaking till the next day without inter mission 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 dode 2 That was now
the question. -
He tried to raise his voice; but he soon perceived, that
his endeavours were fruitleſs, though the wind had changed
since the storm, and blew d) now from the island towards
the ship. He therefore desired his ſriend 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 high 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 offer'd to swim to the ship, moth withstanding 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 branch 2
Father. A green branch is among the savages a sign of
peace; and they never molest any one, who thus approa-
clies them. He took it along with bim 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 deck,
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
mornent it got sight of Friday, it lifted up his voice - 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 f 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
- calling
•) to swim, f) to seek, g) to creep.
iºniſm 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 crocked 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 mo-
ment, jumped over board into the sea. -
The above mention’d black animal, which you probably
know by the description. —-
John. Oh yest a spaniel :
Father. Very right! – Well, this spaniel follow'd Friº
'day's example and jumped over board, in order to swins
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, and
ready to sink to the bottom: a fresh instance, how preju-
dicial cowardice is, and how it exposes us to dangers a
which we might otherwise have escaped!
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
eyes, or give any other sign of returning life, At last being
X again
a) to shake, -
again able to speak 2 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
iloating 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
liad saved themselves in their boats, and left the ship; but
he could not conceive , what was become of them. If
they had saved 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
lie 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 hindcr’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 — or
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.
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 loſs of the boat
als
- - - 255
almost as grievously, as Friday had felt it before. He rub-
bed his forehead, to find out some means to supply the
loſs 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 Ros
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 togee
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-
my 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 himsel} exceedingly with the dog •
who was very dear and estimable to him as his european
countryman. The dog also semed no leſs rejoiced and of his
own accord play’d all the tricks beſore him , which he had
learned. When Friday returned, Robinson gave him the
Prst portion of the victuals, tho' he himself had not tasted
any thing the whole day.
f
X 2 As
aš6 . . - ºsmººn
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! i.
Dick. And had run about so much that day; particularly
Friday
Father. They therefore laid down on the graſs, 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,
T W E N.

TWENTY THIRD E VEN IN G,
- 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 india a withies, so
that it formed a perfectly safe vehicle of about twenty foot
long and almost as broad. They had also used the precau-
tion, to make it close by the seaside and on rollers, that
they might without loſs 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 momen's time, to launch
their raft into the sea, and go with the tide to the strand.
ed vessel ; and in leſs than half an hour they were there.
How Robinson's heart jumped for joy, when he saw the
*E* european ship before him He had almost kissed the
*ide 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. Hs
X 3 would
258 **
*mºm-as-
would willingly have given half his future life, if he could
have recover'd the lost crew, and have sail'd with them to
Turope! 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 f -
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.
self, 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 govereign of the country.
Nicholas. To the sovereign 7 Why does he get any of them?
Father. This is a question to which I can not at present
give you a very satisfactory answer. However I may tell you
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, to
take care, that nothing be robbed from such a stranded ves-
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
- spoile
spoiled or stolen. Now the people appointed for this pur-
pose, are paid by the sovereign of the country it is theres
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.
Consequently Robinson had a right to claim two thirds of
the goods, which tie could gel on shore, as his lawful
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 unsbatter'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 bimself 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 slie 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 waves should by degrees
dash her to pieces. Robinson finding himself frusrated in
X 4 - his
26o ºs-
*===
his hopes , hasten’d on board to see , what the cargo con.
sisted of, and whether that were yet undamaged. The fright,
which poor Friday 89 before, was still so ſresh in his me.
nory, that he could scarce resolve to follow his In 3 Ster
upon deck. However he follow'd him; but not without
trembling - 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 spiritleſs, as if una-
ble to rise, because no body had given it any ſood for three
daye, Robinson, who suspected the cause of its weakneſs
first took care to find some food for the poor starved ani.
mal. As he was perſectly 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, he had ſlung before her with great eagerneſs. In
the mean time Friday stared at the figure of this unknown
animal- - - \ -
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 cutlasses; moreover hatchets, saws,
chisels, gimlets , rasps, planes , hammers , iron bars,
nails, knives , scissars, needles; there were pots , di-
shes , plates , spoons, fire - tongs , bellows, porringers
and other wooden , iron, pewter and copper kitchin uten-
eils; 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,
- x- Fris
- 26f.
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
soon as his eyes fell on an object, that seemed more des?”
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,
and 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 2 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 latchets , 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 lo), the goat.
Frederic. Oh I he had no great need of the goatt
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 , as
he did not know, whether the ship might not be dasued tº
pieces by a storm, before his return, particularly as he bad
roon enough on his raft for the most necessary things. He
therefore took Ler along with him. -
- X 5. - Oa
$) to weep.
262 mºnum
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. -
* 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 its
This hour Robinson spent in dining after the european
fashion. - - -
For this purpose he fetch'd a piece of smoak'd beef, a
eouple of herrings 2 some biscuit, butter, cheese and a bott-
lo 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, – oh! 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 oſ 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
In Qf
* 263
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 7. The first thing Roº
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 smile
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 dreſs, shew’d him, how
to put on every particular piece, and desired him to retire
behind the bush and dreſs 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 dreſs. - w -
When he saw himself thus changed and perceived, how
commodious this dreſs was , and how well it would preserve
.* - him.
264 -
him ſtom 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 his 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 treme
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,
1 - that
e) to draw,
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,
how 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 fir.
ed the piece off.
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 ress
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.
Y T W E N

TWENTY FOURT H E v EN IN G.
T. the great satisfaction of the children, the father, with.
out making any preface the next evening, pursued his narra-
tive in the following manner:
Robinson had never before slept a Y so well, as that
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 ſor
having bestowed upon him so many things . He likewise endea-
woured 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 L or d 1 and then they
both raised their voices to the praise of their supreme Bene-
factor. - - - -
The hext 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 shore to go on board of the wreck.
Frederic. A wreck —- what does that signify?
Father. A ship that is stranded and partly dash'd to pie-
C68a sº
s) to sleep. 9) to teach,
m . 267
ces. – As they had the day before brought of 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.
TNovy Robinson examined every thing ever again , in order
to make a prudent choice among the different things, whicit
he could not take on shore at once. This time his choice
was altended with leſs 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. J
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? – Why I think he might have taken
something more useful I
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 thest
poor savages, made him shudder whenever he thought of .
it. Now, if he had a cannon, he could fire a ball over
their heads , in case they should approach his island in
- Y 2 their
263 *. —
their canoes, the fear of which would make them turn back
agains ſ
Do you see , my lad, how unsafe it is to pretend judging
of other people's conduct 2 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-
rious 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 ſor 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 6crews ; 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.
Theophiſus. 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 riseu 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
As the wind now blew s] 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 mads.
himself reproaches, a proof of his honesty. - -
Dick. And for what did he blame himself?
Father. For not having carried away the gold and dia-
* *
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
Now if a sudden storm should
could not save something.
before he could return to it,
arise and destroy the ship,
and the gold and jewels should be lost; d) how , thought
he, could I justify myself to the owner, to God, and my
own conscience, for having saved such things only , as
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 be , slapping his forehead
with indignation, how far art thou yet from being as good
as thou oughtst to be 7 -
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 g - iue.
c) to blow. d) to lose.
27,o - mºs
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.
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 cabia.
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 greas
test treasure, his gun-powder 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 in estimable invention of needles and thread, and con-
fessed repeatedly, that be and his country-men, in com"
- 2. ' pa-
= 271
parison with the skilful Europeans, were but ignorant ſel-
lows. - *.
Their work was completed before might fall; and them
Robinson had the pleasure, of showing Friday the astonish-
ing effects of a cannon. He charged it with a ball and pla:
ced it so, that the ball might skim along the surface of the
water, to let Friday see distinctly, how far it would gos
Now he fired it, and tho' Friday was prepared for this spec-
tacle, by his having seem him fire his musket twice, yet
he was again so frigten’d at this still more dreadful report
of the camp on, 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 Toupaia.
When it was dark, Robinson lighted a candle, to leok
over the papers be had brought from the ship , and see, if
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 fim 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 7
Father. I will tell you, what it is. In Africa - don't
you remember where that Fies 7
Frederic. Oh! yes, that way, over the green bridge
and the geese ej green 1 - Well, and — Fa-
e) the goose. -
272 - ==
Father. In Africa then, where the negroes live, YY1O.S:
*f 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
*Very year 2 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 I
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.
badees. 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? 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
way, live very happy and contented 7
Friday did not find this in the least improbable.
Well mow Friday! added Robinson, whilst his face be-
gan to glow ; have you still the heart to repeat the question
you lately asked, me?
Fritlay. Which?
f) to drive,
Robinson. Of what use that storm might be which cars
ried away our boat? *
Friday was ashamed, and cast down his eyes with a re-
pen taut 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 I 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 2 It is indeed af-
flicting to owe one's happineſs to the misſortunes 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 I What do you think now of the divine government of
the world? . - -
,, That it 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. y
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 re-
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 triſles, 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 CO II's
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 Inore 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 succeſs , 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 fruitleſs. Be-
fore they were half way, there arose so violent a storm with
thunder , lightening and rain , that the wayes 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, and the whole raft see
parated. -
Charlotte. Oh, poor Robinson 1
All. Oh be quiet, be quiet!
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 stunted , so that he could neither see nor
hear. At last his strength forsook h9 him together with the
knowledge of himself. He gave a loud cry, and then dis"
- ap-
g) to bold. h.) to forsake,
appeard under a monstrous wave, which tore him from his
beam. *
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 , he
did not hesitate a moment, but "dived down, seized him
by his left hand, and worked himself upwards with his right.
And now he exerted his utmoct endeavours te such a de-
gree, that in a few minutes he got on shore together with
the corpse of his dear master.
All, C quite alarmed ) Oh, oh the corpse 2 -
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) hims
self upon him in a fit of despair, called him, shook k) 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 retirming ; he continued his endeavours, till Robinson.
recover'd his senses.
,, Where am I?’ said he at last in a weak and trembling
voice, epening 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.—
And now, my children, I think we can not break off our
story with any thing better; so enough for to day.
i) to throw, k) to shake.
t w EN.
T W E N TY FIFT H E V E N IN G.
k
Several obstacles had occurred, by which the Father Was.
prevented from continuing the narration. In the mean 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 2) 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, ánd 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 leſt off. Then he continued to the ges
meral satisfaction as follows :
Now, my children, our Robinson is once more reco's
ver'd. The sleep, he enjoy'd over night in his tent, on real
loeds, has so refreshed him, 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
W) to arise,
*
-
º,”
-
mº
- *77.
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, shew'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!” O this consciousneſs greatly assu-
ages things, that otherwise would extremely embitter our
hearts t t
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 be
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 sea - shore 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
2, - his
275 -
his former arms, hē now wore a) nothing but a cutlaſs 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 wheel. barrow, 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 busineſs 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 cons
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
Inore about the goat? 4
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. --
t And
a to wear.
- - 279
And now Robinson and Friday had agreeable occupations
is abundance, so that they scarce knew, where to begin
first. But Robinson, who loved an orderly and regular di-
vision in his busineſs, quickly distinguished between the
more and leſs 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
no room in the cellar, more conveniently and safer, than
could be done under the tent. Now the point was 2 to
exercise themselves in carpenters-work, which indeed none
of them had learned. º
But what could now be too diſficult 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 scoustomed to. was now a trille
to him, after he hād succeeded in so many other things
without either tools or assistant. He now felled trees, squarº
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 ha did with surprising
ºlispatch. -
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 ef particular admiration, because he had
never seen any before, and he now perceived, what great
conveniency it affords.
Robinsort 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-
silo as nails chains, binges, hasps, locks etc. in abun-
* 2 3 dance,
2$o
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, acsording 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 commandad 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
word 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’ & 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 t
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 leſs, than the
rest, and I shall consequently let you do every thing, whieh
I look upon as an useful occupation *~.
- Chara
EL 281
Charles. Oh that's excellent Then we will be as dik-
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
flails, 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 might always have a
sufficient stock of rye to mako bread. This also seemed to
I equire leſs work for him and Friday, because in this island
they might have two crops in the course of the year.
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
Z. 3 - and
282 ~ tºº
and useful busineſs, he conceived the idea of constructing a
forge , in order to make spades and other useful instru-
#116 Llt8 to Oe º
This idea was not so extravagant, as it may perhaps ap-
pear to you; for every thing necessary to make a forge was
to be found in his storehouse. There was an anvil and ses
veral tongs, a pretty large pair of bellows, and as much
old uew 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-
rmirably 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
made 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-
eure; 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 för one of themselves. In short this plough
was made exactly as those the Greeks made use of, when
they began to apply to husbandry.
Ferulinand. That must have been a curious plough
Father. Perhaps leſs than you think. At first all instru:
ments were as plain and as simple as this plough. By de-
grees men conceived mare advantageous contrivances, alter.
ed, improved, and thus they continued to promote the
utility and convenience of those things, which they wanted
in their work.
However Robinson had sufficient reason to be zeioiced at
t his
- 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 2.
John. Oh yes! O siris ; whom on that account they
afterwards worshipped as a God. -
Father. The Phoenicians attributed this useful invention
to a certain D agon, 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 7 ---
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
iborough paced husbandmen and the lamas oxen or asses.
Now they were in want of another instrument for the tila
ling of their fields, which they could not well do without ,
and which they had not found en board. -
Ferdinand. I know , what that was.
Father. And what do you think?
Ferdinand. A harrow,
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.} f
In the first place Robinson forged as many iron teeth as
he thought necessary; and after some fruitleſs trials, he
Z 4 * *- also
284 - | Lºſ . . .
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 had 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 he
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 hail or any other accident. He therefore resolv-
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 indeſagitable industry
overcame all difficulties ; and the work was finished in a
short time. &
During these occupations their goat had two kids, so
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 2 by fearing misfortunes, that might possibly lap-
God, thought he , who has hitherto \provided for
me, can help me further. And thus his life passed in un-
disturbed contentment, because he now possessed inward
and outward tranquility. And may God grant every one of
you that state of mind - -
To which the mother added: Amen I and the company
withdrew.
pen,
Z 5 Twy EN.
TWENTY S I XT H E V E N F N. G.
Father. Now, my dear children, F have a great deal to
relate to you this time!
All, Oh excellent, excellent
Father. If only I can finish it in one evening? t
Somb. Oh I 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 ges-
tures. D --
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. º
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 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"
== 287
pations their minds grew still more serene and more cheera
ful. A proof, that God almighty must have purposely crea-
ted us, to be active, because it always makes us healthier,
better and happier, *s -
They had now spent six months in such agreeable occus
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 ever separated from his father. Rohinson on
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
itving required.
Now when the most necessary things were done, Robin-
son was the first, to prepose 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 iately, 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 hatcheta
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!
Koºinson startled, and asked, who was there? ,, Oh
Master 1 Master t answered Friday, one , two , three,
six
six canoes!” In his fright he could not immediately recol.
lect the number six. -
Robinson ran hastily up to the top of the hill, and saw,
not without shuddering, what Friday had told him , — six
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 bim faithfully, in case they should come to an en-
gagement with the savages 2 -- ~
35 with my blood and life t” he answer'd, being now come
to himself again, and having summon'd up all his va.
lour. , Well then, said Robinson, we will try, whether
we can not prevent these monsters ſrom 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 thems
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 draw - bridge, 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 he , , march round the hill thro'
the thickest part of the wood, that the enemy may not get
. . . - sight
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 burn-
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."
Friday thought this supposition very probable.
, ,, Then,” continued Robinson, , we shall have the saw
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 as
little noise as possible, and to bring him word whether
he could from thence overlook the enemy. Soon after he
game 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, whorn.
they had already butchered and that a second lay bound
on the sand at a little distance from them, whom they des
A a - signed
t
signed for their next feast; but he did not 8&em 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 glaſs 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 , tho’
not to be discerned al 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. - s . . -
º Upon which he put down two of the muakets, 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.
non, 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 event, stood ready for battle in case of need, in
half a minute's time the stun'd savages rose again. The most
-- º Heard
*-s 29.
fearful ran to their canoes, whereas the most courageous -
touk up their arms. - -
Ünluckily they had neither perceived the flash of the pow-
der nor the ball passing over their heads ; and bad only
heard the report. Their fright was therefore not so great
as had been expected, and after having looked about thern s
and ſound nothing to frighten them again, they soon took
courage; the fugitives returned: they all set up a most dread-
ful how], 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 -
dance 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 reſrain any longer from action.
He looked at Friday, and only whisper'd these words to
him : Advance to the left, and I'll advance to the right :
Atºll now in the name of God? At these words he gave file
at them ; and Friday did the same. * . ‘a -
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 crder 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 a 2 more
292 - mºrsº
more or leſs dangerously wounded ran yelling and screaming
about like mad creatures. Three of them ſell 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
some 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 P
with which the prisoner's hands and feet were tied in a
most pitiful manner. Upon which he asked him in German
and in English; who he was 2 and the prisoner answer'd
him in latin : Christianus, a Christian | Hispanus, a Span-
iard His faintness hinder'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
*trengthen’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-
Ainson was loading the rest. The two champions found great
resistance; and were soon separated; whilst the spaniard
and one of the savages got to close fighting, Friday, after
- -> - having
Eºº s - - —
, - ——— 233
• * º - -
having fired his piece, ran sword in hand, and drove ex
a whole swarm of the fugitives before him. Some he cut
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
off his head with it, when Robinson, happily perceiving
the danger, fired a ball thro’ the cannibal's head.
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 , and besides most of them
wounded, Robinson thought proper, to remain on the field
of baltle, 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 eſt in
the wood. ... ' - º,
Both of them were immediately stepping into one of the
canoes, which the savagea 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 a
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. P, s -
A a 8 s, But,
•) to drive. d ) to preſs.
*94 -
• , Bnt, said Friday, they will perhaps return in multitus
des and destroy us, if we let them escape 1" -
Well, said Robinson, tapping him friendly on the shoula
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. X-
Charlotte, That was again very laudable in Robinson,
*ot to kill the rest of the savages 1 -
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 t - * - -
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 7 Because
it has been taught so , 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, had 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 f Such a child would rather, as soon
as it was big enough, assist the rest in killing and eating,
And thas was the case with these poor savages. Happy for
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 bad Î
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 lifeleſs 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 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 has had no time yet to enquire after
that ; and therefore, we must also suppreſs our curiosity till
tſ) II) () ºr IOVWe
All, What! finished already?
A a 4 T W E Nº
TWENTY SEVENTH EVENING.'
! ers'
Matthew. Well, Papa, how did the Spaniard get among
the savages 2 * > . »
Father. Have a Fittle patience, and you shall hear it :
Something else happen'd in the mean time, which I must
first relate to you.
John. WWell, what can that be?
Father. Robinson curious to examine one of the two ca.
moes they had left behind, went to the place where it was,
and to his great astonishment found apollier unhappy victim
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 were 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 arrrl $ 2
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 chaſed his arms and inkles, 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 bim ; if
he had given his father any bread 2 , 'I he rascel has eaten
all!” answer'd Friday, pointing to himself. Upon which
Robinson gave him his own breakfast, which he had still in
his pocket, and Friday gave it to his father. He had searce
done so., but he flew ej 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. tºw
e) to fly. -
exhausted on the graſs. He desired Friday to give him
*9mething to drink, and offer'd him some bread and cheese
- to refresh himself, The Spaniard looked up to him with 3.
friendly and grateful countenance; exerted himself to rise; but
was 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. - -
ºr was very moving to see, how this gºod son, whilst
he was employed in, this, turned his head every monent
rowards 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
such swiftneſs, that he was scarce seen to touch the
ground; but finding, that his father only laid himself down
to ease his limbs, he returned immediately. Upon which Ro-
*inson was going to try, whether he could not with Fris
day's assistance lead the spaniard to the boat in order to be
conveyed to their dwelling : but Friday, being a young
stout 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-
ad 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 licme to fetch a barrow, to carry the two sick men,
O.1
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
sucy as to baffle all description. Now they both appeared
in want of sleep , Enore than of any thing else. Whilst Friday
was préparing 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 comfortable 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 Row 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 Ptotestants profeſs. (The
bigger of you know the signification of the word, and the
younger will have patience, till they get more understand.
ing, when they shall hear it too). Thus Friday, as I
6aid betore, 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 hims
self. » 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
- r of
3oo
tº:
*
of the question did his solid understanding incline? Had
he a right to force his subjects to profoſs 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 interior 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 bian,
that he was in an error before. And of what use can be
professing a belief, the truth of which we are not convin-
ced of? —- 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-
bje, that he himself were mistaken?
Hans. Oh yeo, -
.#ather. W by ?
Hans. Besauee all men are subject to errors.
Father. Consequently no body must presume to think his
opinion an infallible truth !
Thus, my children , it 5 elongs 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 opiº
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
erroré- - ...” - -
Our Robinson considered the matter mearly in the same
light, Curied, he therefore cried, cursed be that unreason-
- able
-- 3o I
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 unbappy 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 me —
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 X 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
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
bo, mirth is no fault.
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 theme -- * .
B. b. Fri-
a) i. Q. brothers.
3oz. ==
Friday served as interpreter, whilst Robinson conversed
with his father and the Spaniard. -
* Ferdinand. Did he understand spanish? . .
Father. No 1 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 :
, 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 2 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 b) there.
But twenty of them died, because they were pack'd together
like salt-herings in a tub. A continual violent storm had
driven us from our course to the coast of Brasil, and our
ship having sprung c) 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 scarce saw themselves freed
from their incumbrance, but they unanimously seized our
boats, te 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, e) to spring. d) to drive,
- . 305
either to stay with us, or at least to take us with them.
And here I can not help praising the generosity and huma-
mity 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
now so overloaded, that we expected to sink every no-
RI, ente - -
, 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 unconamon 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 lia
berty. -
, Some days ago the island was invaded by a neighbours
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
B b 2 - & Il Se
e) to fight.
304 - *
enemy. I saw him surrounded, ran to rescue him, and had
the mistortune 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 fj 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 bede wed
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
bim 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 Spaniara's
surprise was so great , that he could scarce utter a word-
Upon which Robinson enquired further, for whose ac-
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
officer, who had been many years in the Eastindies, and
- - who
f) to throw.
- 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
ſound 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 2 diamonds
and papers, as if they had been something sacred- -
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.
pineſs, which he has again granted us this day."
R b 8 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. - -
Płans. What was that 2
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-
neſs. Every one therefore took a hatchet, and thus they
went to the dreadful place.
Ferdiaand. With hatchets?
Father. Yes ; not to dig graves, for then they would
have taken shovela 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, may, 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
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 permicious. '
Every one knows in our times, that the stench of dead
bodies is poisonous to the living; but do people not still
continue nevertheleſs to bury them in church - yards, or
even deposite them in vaults in the churches, where they
are not even cover'd with mould 3 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 1 -
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 4 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 mes
cessary to become worthy and powerful men. It would be
a shame for any of you to frustrate these hopes. -
Yet I do not fear that. If you should therefore, as I
hope you will, attain to your great destination ; if you
should come to be such men, as have influence on the
3e 8 - ºaxºns
happineſs of thousands : oli, then do not neglect to use
the authority, entrusted to you , to lessen the evil, and
to promote the good among your brethren, and to diffuse
joy and happineſs about you t 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 Inay-not be
noxious to the health of the living $).
Nicholas. When I go to town, I shall explain it to my
grandpapa and to Iny uncle; they will be able to do some-
1hing in it. —
Now Roſbinson and his companions having burned the
corpses returned home. Friday had in the mean time in.
formed his father, that civilized people eat no hunan flesh a
which at first he could not weli 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 thern
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 here assembled, we find
oursely es in the possession of eyery thing necessary for a
CG III s
} 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 Yery li 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’s 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 wortily re-
Jations, than the senseleſs reasonings of the multitide. His request
was fulfilled.
*- 309
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 savage” I
wish therefore, that every one of you would give his opi-
pion concerning the proper means of bringing those untoriu-
nate people hither?”
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 accorn-
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 shoul
go, and Friday remain with him-
Charles. Why did not he rather send Friday, than the
poor old man 7 -
Father. Parily from his affection to Friday, whom he
could not possibly and without tremblisg, 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, thān 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 tea 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
Inore provisions. B b 5 There-
3ro --
Therefore they all turned 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-
!y People without education. He did not know them suffi.
ciently to be answerable for their good characters. His ad-
vice therefore was ; that Robinson , as Lord of the island ,
should first draw up certain conditions, on which they
should be received, and that he yvould 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: 2, Whoever desires to live in Robin -
son's island, and share in the conveniencies it affords,
IYıll 6t COITS 6 n. I :
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) Unanimously to oppose him, who shall dare to trans-
greſs 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 fally resolved, to live accordingly in
every respect.
Robinsorts
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 - men
might sign them, before they embarked.
And now they chose the best of the canoes, which they
had 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 bedev'd his face with
his tears. The old man was at last forced to tear himself
from hisn; 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
to sob a last farewell. Upon which he returned to shore 3
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 unexas
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 ſast
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.”
,, Oh I oh!” cried Friday, falling on his knees before
him : ,, no, for Heaven's sake, do not such things. It
will certainly devour you, and then poor Friday would have
no master 1" Robinson answer'd smiling.: , , has he then
devoured you?” and as he could not answer this question
in the affirmative : he ordered him to run home and fetch
the lantern. He himself returned to the hele and stood sen-
tinel with his gun loaded. , And
g) to fall.
,, And what in all the world, thought he, can have terrified
Friday in such a manner? a wild beast 7 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, 1 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 lan:ern, and tried again with tears in his eyes to
prevail on his master, not to expose himself to such an immi.
ment 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 h)
from his purpose. He begged Friday to be courageous •
tºok the lantern in his leſt, 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
shudder. But yet he would not run away directly • but
stretched out his hand with the lantern, to view this un-
known nonster more distinctly. And then he saw, that it
was neither more nor leſs, than an old he - lama, just eX's
piring with age and infirmity. After having looked round
about him, and perceived nothing-but this very harmleſs
animal, he crept i entirely into the cavern, and called
Friday to follow him. - ... .
Friday trembled, like an aspen leaf; yet he could not
£nd it in his heart to forsake his master. He therefore took
the generous self - denying resolution, of creeping in after
C c ~ * him,
h) to witähold. i.) to creep,
314 tº
him; and now he saw to his astonishment, how greatly
he had been mistaken in the bigneſs 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 me, as if I saw them;
- aay, I could have sworn #) it. - -
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 aſ-
terwards, just as you, would have sworn, that they had
really seen such things. Be a man, Friday; look twice an
other time, and banish from your heart all womanish ti-
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
wery 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
t - grotto
%} &Q twear.
3rs
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 agree-
able employment during the absence of the two others.
C c & Tw EN.

TWENTY - NINT H E V ENI & G,
Nicholas. Every time that Papa is going to continue his
narration, I am afraid —
Father. Of what, dear Nicholas 7
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.
£ather. 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 I 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 them ,
without succeſs. One morning, whilet 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 • glaſs, ran upon the hill. Hero
he really saw at a very great distance a considerable boat
standing in for their island; but when he had examined
things
317
things a little nearer, he shook 1) his head, and said : Fri-
day, Friday, I fear, you are mistaken Friday turned
pale, --
Robinson looked a second time and appear'd still more
astonish'd. At last he could no longer doubt of what he
saw , , 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! Fris
day trembled in all his limbs. Follow me , said Robinson
going hastily to another eminence, from whence they could
overlook the northern coast.
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-
Irary 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
bave directed her course this way, for what could make
an Finglish 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 7
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
C c 3 - - done
1) to shake,
done by land, such people are called thieves or robbers;
if it be done by sea, they are called pirates.
Christopher. But these were Englishmen I -
Father. So they appeared to be indeed, but Robinson
thought who knows, whether those wretches, in case
they be pirates ; have not perhaps taken this vessel by for-
ce, and then dressed themselves, in English cloathing —
Puring 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 , as his
condition was much happier, the danger of falling into the
bands of such villains made him shudder. He therefore irn-
parted his apprehensions to Friday, and they both went to
observe the motions of those , that were approaching in
the boat. -
They ascended an eminence cover'd with trees and un-
derwoods, from whence without being seen thomselves
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 soliciting 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 im"
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 f Get away, ans-
wered Robinson with some indignation, that they will not!
... ." and
..-
and thus he continued observing them thro' his perspective?-
glaſs. - *
With abhorrence he observed some of the armed men
lifting their swords upon those , who lay in a supplicating
posture before then. At last he saw thern leave the prisoners .
alone, and scatter about the woods. ſº
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 2
pistols, swords and as much ammunition, as he could
carry. -
Christopher. What is ammunition, pray ?
Father. Powder and balls. – Rošinson thought propez
to stay where he was, to observe , what they would furs
ther undertako, Friday was back in a short time, and when
every thing was ready and their pieces ioaded, they observe
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. I&obinson 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 it they were going to fly from him;
but 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
P*P*, of what nature your misfortune is, and how t
C c 4 - C&I)
32 o wºrs
can heip you? , I was master of yon ship ,” answer'd the
other; , this man is my mate, acd that gentleman, a
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 out 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.” -
2. On two conditions,” said Robinson , , I will venture
my life and blood for your deliverance 1 *
., What are they , generous man?” said the captain. ». In
the first place,” answer'd Robinson , that you shall enli-
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-
eion of your ship,”
, We, the ship and every thing on board of her,” re-
plied the captain , ,, are entirely at your disposal.”
2, 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 behind his back,
ordered him to remain on the same spot without stirring,
t O1&
mamm . 3.21.
gº
or without uttering a single syllabe, otherwise they would
biow his brains out directly. They had laid him will his
face turned towards the sea, so that he could not know >
what happened to his comrades. .
Now they went up to the second, who shared the same
fate. He was tied, placed and threaten’d in the same man-
ner. Fortune or rather Divine Providence appeared ou this
occasion the Protector of innocence and Avenger of wrongs,
There were already six of these wretches tied in the saine
manner, when the est two of them suddenly awoke, sprung
up, and took their arms. , Yv retches, cried Robin-
son , look at your companions, see our superiority, and
surrender this moment a minute's delay will cost you your
lives. ” -
, Ob mercy I 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 ſlobinson 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.
Perdinand. Why did they do so?
**er. 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 Buu was fired on board, to recall the sailors,
who were oil shore. This signal not being answer'd after
being
322 - mºsºm
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 man 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
names, but no body answer'd, They were ten in number,
all armed. -
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 thern in all possible haste. They arrived, and
the captain, who had 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 f
2, Till death 1 ° they answer'd trembling, and falling on-
their knees. The captain continued: I have hitherto known
you as good led; ; ; ;} 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
sailors 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 arma 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
etraggling comrades would return. At last, finding that all
was in vain, they seemed towards might - 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
t , the
m) 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 hallaed. As soon as they perceived, that they lis-
tened to their call and were coming on shore, they were
by degrees to retire ſurther into the wood, and decoy the
tailors 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 shore, and
with their firelocks in their hands ran towards the place
from whence they heard the voice. Two of them were left
behind to look after the boat.
Friday and his companion performed their busineſs admis
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 tine 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 possie
ble, and were now only about twenty paces from it, with-
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 ef their arms, they threaten’d to kill
and destroy them, if they dared to stir. The two sailors
i.egged for quarter, were seized and had their hands bound. --
This
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, and
were exceedingly fatigued with their fruitleſs rambles. Their
astonishment and lamentations at the loſs of their boat were
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 had 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 2" cried one of then
at last ; to whom the captain called without being seem :
Thomas Sanith , 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. - -
That moment they all flung dow: their firelocks, and
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 | " 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-
sistance, and suffer'd their hands to be bound likewise,
Now the captain and Robinson, who was looked upon
as au officer of the Governor, came up , and the former
- . - - chose
chose such from among the prisoners, as he thought capa-
ble of sincerely repenting the crime they had committed.
These were led 'w) to the entrance of the castle, and the
rest to the grotto. Two of those , who were already in
the cavern, were also fetched back, because the captain
thought them equally disposed to return to their duty.
What he did with them, and what further happeºd,
will be the object of our next conversations
a) to lead,
Cºqº-ºqº@-tºq}Q-2-Q'º-
iº & THIRs
*~
THIRTIETH EVENING.
Flº. Now, my children , the adventures of our Robin.
ton 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 deliv rance, or whether his ardent
wish of seeing his parents againi, 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. Ros
Jinson now added, that by this means they would not only
gave 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. *
QThig
--- 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 carpens
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.
Wicolas. 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 with Friday, to defend that place,
Itoſ inson, whose destiny was now to be decided, was
too agitated in his mind to be easy any where. Sometimes
he 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 bill during the stillness of the night, whether
he could not hear anything from that quarter where the ship lay.
Tho' he had not tasted a morse! 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 a - - - - iQ
to Friday, and which was, that in doubtful cases you mus
always expect the worst- If this worst case do not happer
so much the better for you ! But if it do, it will not pu
you out of countenance-
According to this principle , Robinson imagined the H.
success of the undertaking as certaiu, and summon'd up
all his firinness and resignation in divine providence, so bea
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 tire captain's success
in recovering the ship , and of his approaching deliverance.
In the heat of his joy, more flying, than walking, He
hurried down the rope ladder, seized Friday , who sat nod.
ding on a bank of sods, pressed him to his bosom and be.
dew'd his face with many tears, without uttering a single
word. , What's the matter, master 2 " said: Friday, awak's
ing from his slumber , quite surprised at these impetuous
caresses. But Robinson in the excess ef his joy could say now
thing , but ; Ab , Friday i-
,, God have mercy on my master's head : " said Fridiy,
to bimself from an idea that Robinson had lost his senses.
,, Come, lie down toº sleep, dear master I " said he to
him, and was going to take him by the arm , to Head him
into the cave. But Robinson with unspeakable affability
answer'd : to sleep, dear Friday ? I sleep now, at the very
moment Heaven has granted me the accomplishment of the
only wish of my heart? Did not you hear the three guns
Don't you kno; a8 yet, that the ship is recovered?
Now Eriday's eyes were open'd ; now he also rejoiced ,
but more on his dear master's account than on his own.
. For
— 329
gº--esrºss-
For the thought of leaving his own native climate for ever
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 won-
ders. - - -
Robinson was n2w more uneasy, than ever, with mere
extasy. Sometimes he went up the hill', fell on his knees
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 he past the whole night, without ever
O II C8 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 inſtrument of his deliverance. The moment ar-
rived ; but – Heaven t how great was his terror, when he
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 , 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 Fris
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 mis-
fortunes restrained this rising joy, and did not suffer it to
break out. They all observed therefore a profound silence;
and the father continued.) - .."
. Our Robinson here teaches us by his own example, how
much even good People , who have improved their minds,
. . . . . D d 3 oughs
ought to be on their guard, to prevent their being overcom.
by the violence of ther passions. If Robinson’s joy had no
been so immoderate before, he would not have been s
excessively grieved afterwards ; and if his grief had not st
entirely darken'd his reason, he would have known, that h
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 distreſs; and this
Yeſlexion would have tranquilised him. Look, children, how
ymuch even the best men find to mend in themselves
Whilst Robinson lay, there so comſortless, 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 jutrºp
Robinson had clasped him in his arms | When he turged
about , he saw the ship at an anchor in a small creek on
the western side, and in that same montent all bis grief
wanish’d. This eight 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
ńn anchor in a convenient harbours -
Robinson lay a long whiié 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 in anner he had succeeded
in recovering his ship, without wounding or killing one
man, The darkneſs of night, preventing the nutineers to
see him, they' made no difficulty in admitting his compani-
ons. The worst, of the rebels had afterwards indeed offer'd
§§
º 35;"
to make resistance; but without success. They were sei.
zed and laid in irons. - Upon which he indulged his grä-
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 yeurs; 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. * - * * : * - * -- - - - - ºr
In the mean time Robinson related his strange and mar.
wellous adventures to the captains which more than once
excited in him the greatest asionishment. 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 aſ the Spaniards, besides me and my houshold on
bbard, and sail first to Cadiz, there to land them. The
third is to pardon the chief mutineers, and leave than in
the island instead of any other punishment; because I am .
sure, this is the best method of mending them.- t
The captain having assured tiim, that every thing shouſd
be punctually observed to his desire, he sent for the prisos |
ners , chose the worst from among them, and announced
them their sentence. They were véry glad to bear it, be.
eatise they knew , that according to law, they had forfeited
their lives. Our good natured Robinson gave them instrue.
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, assuming them
* these virties would leader their abode in this island
&xceedingly agreeable, - .
Whilst
332 &s-ºil
Whilst he was still 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 his new guests; and upon inquiry, old Thursday
informed him, that they were the wives of two Spaniards,
whom they had 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. Ho
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
he 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. – But I wish, that every one
of you that remains here, may do well. This requires a
regular disposition of things, and I have a right to make
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
. .” pay
- * - T 33;
pay them the strictest obedience. They alone shal inhabit
my castle; they alone shall be the trustees of all the arms y
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 yeu live peaceably and or-
derly in every respect. In case of danger, you shall assist
each other; if there be labours, either in the fields or gare
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 so
dear to me. Then woe to him , , who shall have infringed
my regulations! He shall be set adrift in a small boat, withº-
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
be would take along with him, that they might be put on
board. It contain’d: 1)"the clothies, which he had himself
made of skins 9 together with the umbrella and mask; 2)
the lance, the bow, and the stone hatchet; 3) his Poll, his
dóg and two lamas; 4) all sorts of tools and instruments of
bis own making , when alone; and at last 5) the gold dust,
diamonds , and his large lump of gold. -
Aſier having got all these things on board, and the wind
being favourable, their departure was fixed for the next day. Upon
which &obinson 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 skiä
in the art of ceokery. To follow the noble example of his
irost and at the same time to contribute something to the
hippiness of the colony, he seat on board for a quantity
- of .
- 334 * - - | Tº.
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
his 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 monent of their departure was come. Robinsorã.
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 man-
mer. He then looked round him once more, and thanked
God for his miraculous preservation and present deliveran-
ce; then with a voice half stifled, he bade his last fares
well t and went on board, attended by Friday and Thursdays
Some. Oh dear! Now 'tis all over-
John. Have patience Who knows, whether some new
wobstacle may prevent his º
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 be
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
etc, t Epon which he went down into the captain's cabin ,
f - to:
- 335
together with Thursday and Friday, to relieve his oppre----
heart by a friendly conversation. -
Their voyage was very prosperous. In four and twens
ty days they reached Cadiz, where the Spaniards were land-
ed. Robinson went along with them , to enquire for the
merchant, whose gold - duet 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.
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 re-
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 how
In C3t Ina II, -
From Cadiz they set sail ſor England. During this voyage
a melancholy accident happened. Old Thursday Bell suddenly
ill, and died notwithstanding all their er deavours to save
him. You may easily imagine, what Friday suffered on this
occasion, and how excessively he lamented the death of so
*eloved a fathers Neither could the two lamas bear the
sea, and died likewise. -
The ship arrived safe at Portsmouth, a well known hars
hour 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 receisº
ved no support from her deceased husband in the East- ln.
dies, for two years she and her children wereby degrees redu
ced to the greatest poverty. They were scarce gover'd with
$ºrns)
&36 ºf
- 'J'
some 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 refreshing rain in summer, and
enjoy Za 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 ancher.
This voyage likewise provéd expeditious and prosperous,
Helgoland already appeared in view; soon after Robinº"
epied 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 to turn the ship and get to
sea again; but iu vain ; a furious gust of wind baffled all their
endeavours , bore away the ship, and threw her with suck
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 come
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
$2.
; Afterwards he was informed, that among the goods, that
| wore 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 1
Father. He is now just as rich. as he was, when for.
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
#by chance. As to Robinson, he did not greatly lament this
loss. For as he had firmly resolved to pass the rest of his
just as he had been accustomed to live in his island, he
could easily do without golds - -
Now he went to Hamburgh on board of a vessel, that
was going from Cuxhaven. When they were off Stade, he
#could not forbear weeping for extasy. In four hours time
ly beloved father. At Cuxhaven he had been informed
of his good mother's death , which he grievously las
imented. - -
ide and a fair wind ; Presently after they passed Neuen-
Now the vessel flew by Blankenese, borne by a strong
staedten, then Altona, and now they were in the har,
§. - - - - - - * - . - wº . tº # * * .
hour of Hamburg. His heart was in the greatest agitation,
§: s - * g . - º
when he got on shore, and if it had not been for the peos
ºple • * would have fallen on his face to kiss the native soil
º “ - . E e He
to sit on his shoulder, when the ship was cast on shores
merly he went off from Hamburgh. Perhaps Providence
§ world, in hopes of returning like him with treasures found
days in the same uninterrupted laboriousness and sobriety,
could see the steeples of his native city, at which sight he
#at furthest he would be there , and in the arms of his dear.
*g






358 —
He hasten'd thro' a crowd of staring spectators to the Bau
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 Hamburgh , 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 sloed trembling for joy, with such
extasy as cannot be described. My Father My son 1 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 astonishs
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-
Ainson; 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 mos
thers present; Ye parents, if you love your children, ac-
- Ct). SIO ºl
a) to cling.
• A large tavern near the harbour, belonging to the City.
stom them betimes to a pious, sober and laborious life I
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 - eh be:
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 falber left it
to his own option. He therefore bound himself apprentice
te a master, together with Friday, and before the end of
a year, they had learned every thing, so that they wer
able to become masters themselves. -
Opon which they set up a shop in company together; and
remained inseparable friends and assistants 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 in 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.
**teness. The blessing of heaven also crown'd all their
*dertakings in a visible manner. They attained to a great
E e a “.…”.” age ,
340 **
age 2 in pease, health and useful activity, and the late:
posterity will honour the remembrance of two men, who
were an example to their fellow-creatures, how we must
dos to live satisfied here and eternally happy hereafter.
f & t
Here the father stopt. The young company remain'd for
some time sitting in a pensive posture, till at last the
thought : I will do so too !' ripen'd into a firm resolution,
Gºº-34×9-GG-3-3-0-0-
v E R K L A R 1 N G
der woorden en ſpreekwijzen in dit werkje voor-
r komende.
ſº-3D4D ®-3-3-3-g) 696 D-4D (DQ (D3-Q-SKD-Q-& GQ-kO&KD-rºo
Beteekenis der verkortingen.
Z. zelfſtandig naamwoord.' o. t. onvolmaakte tijd.
bv. bijvoegelijk woord. dw. de elwoord.
b w. bij woord. b. w. bedrijvend werk woerd.
vz- voorzetſels. o. w. onzijdig werkwoord.
m V. in eervott d. f, figuurlijk.
Door dit teek en " , wordt de ſcherp - korte, door ’, de ſcherp -
lange , toon van een en klinker aangeduid. Dech is de aitſpraak
der enkele klanken op meer wijzen onderſcheiden, welke de Iser-
meester best mondeling doet kennen. --
*aan-
--Een
A » A B
A, (niet bepalend lidwoord)
een , een e , voor woorden , die
met een e klin kletter of ſton-
jak s , 3) ook in de zamenſtel-
'ing, met z. en werkwoorden,
als " he is yet asleep (in), hij
me h beginnen, an; an ass, an 8eapt nog, he had much ado
ignorant boy, een ezel, een on- (to), hij had veel moeite ; they
weten de jongen ; an hour, een Came a foot (on), zij kwassen
**r ; 2) in plaats van het be- te voet , they went a shore (on),
Palend lidwoord en van ſom- zij gingen aan wal.
*nige vz. , als, twice a (to) | to Abandon, b. w. verlaten, o-
day, tweemaal des daags; there vergeven s to abandon one's self
": 5° . * (on) board a (of) | to joy, zich aan de vreugde
ship , daar gaan wij aan overgeven.'
#" * . *** *** ſchip, (te | Abashed, beſchaamd.
ſekeep); he did not go a (on)' to Abate, o.. w. afnemen, ver-
latinting, hij ging niet op de minderen; the storm abáted a
E e s. little
342 A B
little, de ſtorm verminderde
6 en weinig.
to Abhôr, b. w. verfoeijen.
Ability, z. bekwaamheid, ga-
ſchiktheid.
Able, bv. bekwaam, vermogend,
in ſtaat.
Abóde, z. woning, verblijf
to Abolish, b. w. vernietigen ,
afſchaffen ; to abolish a bad
custom, een kwaad of ſlecht
gebruik afſchaffen.
Abominable, b. v. afſchuwelijk.
to Abominate, b. w. verfoeijen.
Abortive, f. mislukt ; to prove
abortive , mislukken.
to Abóund , b. w. overvloedig
(van iets) voorzien zijn 2) o.
w. overvloedig voorhanden zijn,
in overvloed aanwezig zijn.
Aboutt, vz. om , rondom ; about
his waist, om zijn middel, 2)
van daar ook : bij, I have no
zmoney about me, ik heb geen
geld bij mij ; 3) tegen , (nabij
de n tijd); about noon, 'tegen
den middag , 4) aan, bij , met
ait duiding van plaats ; about
the port, bij de haven, about
the fields, in de velden, 5) o-
ver , ten aanzien van , we-
gens ; what I told you about
cod, wat ik ze wegens den ſtok-
visch verteld heb , 6) onge-
we er, om tran t; of about six
dollars value, van de waarde
van omtrent zes kroong n , bw.
om , rondom , ergens, waar ;
to run about , in het rond loopen,
waar erg 6ns ; where about the
ship was, waar zich het ſchip be-
vond, 3) met het werk w. to Be
beteekent het: voornemens zijn,
he was about to go, hij ſtond
op zijn vertrek.
A C
Above, vz. boven (eens plaats
aanduiden de 2 ; above his ca-
vern , boven zij ne ſpelonk , to
keep a ship above water, een
ſchip boven water, een ſchip
vlot houden, 2) meer dan (tijd
aan duidende ) , above six hours,
meer dan zes uren ; rd dr, bs -
ven, eerst ; above all things,
voor alle dingen, vooreerst,
3) boven ; above mentioned,
bovengemeld.
Abroad , bw. buiten , uit , bitsi-
tenshuis ; to go abroad, uit-
ga 4 V2 •
Abrûptly, bw. plotſelijk, om voºr-
wachts, onverhoeds.
Absence, z. de afwezigheid.
Absent , bv. afwezig.
Absolute , bv. onbeperkt; an ab-
solute king, een vrij mag tig
koning.
Absolutely , bw, volſtrekt.
Absorbed, dw. van to absorb ,
absorbed in thoughts, in ge-
dacht en verzonken, in diepe
gedachten.
Abundance , z. de overvloed.
to Abuïse, b w. misbruik ers.
Abvkse, z. het misbruik.
Abyss, z. de afgrond.
to Accept, b. w. aannemen, (met
of), I should accept of your
present ? ik zouds uw geſchenk
aanne in en ?
Accèptable , bv. aannemelijk,
aangenaam, welkom.
Accident, z. het toeval.
Accidèntally , bw, toevallig , bij
toeval.
to Accompany , bw, vergezellen,
geleiden, gezelſchap houden.
to Accomplish , bw, tot ſtand
brengen , voltooijen, volledig
maken.
Ace
A C -
Accomplishment, z. de vervul-
ling, the accomplishment of this
precept, de nakoming, in acht
neming van deze raadgeving.
Accord, z. eigenlijk, overeen-
ſfemming ; if you do it of your
own accörd, iudien gij het
vrijwillig doet.
According, dw. overeenſtemmen -
8e, (met : to) according to .
naar , volgens , accordiug to
his custom , maar zij de go-
04 0 0 ºf 5 6 •
Accordingly, bw. dien volgens ,
naar mate daar van , ge volge-
lijk.
to Accoûnt, bw. f. (met : for),
he was to account for it, hij
zn oest daar van rekenſchap ge-
19 & Pº s
Accoûnt , z. eena rekening, f.
rekenſchap s account of time,
tijdrekening ; 2) de narig t,
uitkomst, 3) de oorzaak , ro-
de, grond ; upon this account,
om deze reden ; on what account,
om welke reden ; on his ac-
count, om zijn en t wille; on
account of the rain, uit hoofde
van den regen.
to Accoûtre , bw, ſieren, tooi-
jen-, optooijen.
Accoûtrement, z, de uitrusting »
t6 ertus ting.
to Accüse, b. w. aanklagen, be-
ſchuldigen, 2) to accüse one's
self, zich zelven verwijten.
to Accustom , b. w. gewennen.
Accustomed , dw. gewend.
Ache, áke, z. aanhoudende pijn,
the headake, de hoofdpijn.
to Acknowledge , b. w. erken-
non , met dank erkennen,
Acknowledgement, z. de dank-
baarheid, • ? - .
E e 4
A D
Acorn , z. de cikel.
to Acqüaint, b. F. bekend ma-
ken, (met with en of). -
Acquáuntance, zº kennis ; 2) een
bekende.
Acquáinted , dw. bekend; he got
acquåinted with him, hij ge-
raakte met hen in kennis.
to Acquiès ce, b. w. ( met in enz
to) zich iets laten welgeval-
len, iets toeſtemmen.
to Acquire, b. w. verkrijgen ,
be kon. en.
Across, bw, dwars, kruiswijze ;
with his arms accross , met zij-
ne armen over elkander ge-
ſlagen.
343
to n ct, b, w. handel en ; - een ig
karakter voorſtellen ; to act
the king, den koning voorſtel-
len, de rol eens konings ſpelen.
Act, z. een e handeling, daad.
Action, z. eene handeling, wer-
king ; - een gevecht ; a bloody
action, een bloedig gevecht.
Active, bv. werkzaam , ijverig.
Activity, z. werkzaamheid, be-
hendigheid.
Actually , b w. werkelijk.
to Adapt, b. w. ſchikken, aas
pasſen (met to).
to Add , b. w. bij voegen.
to Addict , b. w. wijden,
wij den.
to Address , b. w. rigten; he ad-
dressed his prayers to God, hij
rigt te zijne gebeden tot God ;
2) als wederkeer ig wer kw. to
address one's self to somebody,
zich tot iemand wenden.
#06's
Addrèss, z. bekwaamheid, kan st.
Adieus, . bw..' vaarwel ; to bid
adieu, vaarwel zeggen.
Adjoining, dw. van to adjoin,
aanhori , aangrenzend, the
ade
344 A D
adjoining piece, het aanhoori-
ge ſtuk.
to Adjourn, b. w. verſchuiven,
tot op een en ander en dag mit-
ſtellen. -----
Admirably , bw. bewonderens-
waardig. r T)
to Admire, b. w. bewonderen.
tO Admit, b. w. to admit one ,
i en and too laten, ontvangen.
to Admörish, b. w. raden, waar-
ſchuwen.
Admonition, z. de raad, waar-
ſch uwing -
Ado, (in plaats van to do),
moei te ; after much ado , met
groote moeite.
to Adore, b. w. aan bidden,
zo Adörn, b. w. verſieren.
Adr)ft , bw. weg, voort ; to set
adrïft, laten drijven.
to Advance, b. w. voorwaarts
brengen, bevorderen ; 2) o.. w.
vorderen, voor trukken, voort-
gaan ; the day was already far
advanced , de dag was reeds
grootste deels verloop en. t
Advancement, z. de vordering;
wasdom. -
Advà stage, z. het voordeel ; to
take advantage of a thing, zich
iets ten nut te maken.
Advantágeously, bw. voordee lig,
met voordeel.
Advènture, z. toeval, avontuur,
gebeurtenis. -
Adversity, z. wederwaardigheid,
tegenſpoed.
Advice, z. de raadgeving; - de
na rigt.
Advisible, bv. raadzaam.
to Advise, b. w. raden ; - to
advise with one's pillow , zich
op iets beſlapen , iets in het
bed overleggen, N
A G.
Afar, bw, verre, from afar, van
ſyé r ro,
Aſfability, z. ſpaarzaamheid.
Affair, z. eens bezigheid, zaak.
to Affèct, b. w. treffen.
Affected, dw. den ſchijn van iets
hebbende, gemaakt, affected sèn-
sibility, gemaakte gevoeligheid.
Affection, z. de aandoening; 2)
t 06genegenheid, te ede rheid.
Affirmátion, z. de bevestiging.
Affirmátive, bv. ook als zelfſtan-
dig gebruikelijk ; to be ans-
wered in the affirmative, een
bevestigend antwoord krijgen.
to Aſſlict , b. w. bedroeven ,
krenken.
Affliction, z. hartzeer, droefheid.
Affluence, z. de overvloed.
to Affórd , b. w. voortbrengen.
to Afright, b. w. verſchrikken,
hevreesd maken. .
Afright, z. de ſchrik , plotſelij-
ke vre e s.
Aſloát, bw vlot, (drijvend) ;
they got the boat aſloât, zij
maakt en de boot wederom y Jot.
Afráid, bv. bevreesd, bang ; he
was afraid of the winter, hij
was voor de n winter beducht.
After, vz. na , achtar (van plaats
ſprekende ), b w. na , nader-
hand, (van tijd ſprekends),
als voegwoord, nadat.
Afternoon , z. de namiddag.
Afterwards , bw, naderhand,
daarsa.
Again, bw, weder, op nieuw,
nog eens.
Against, vz. tegen , 2) f aan
(ook : regen), I will fix the
map against the tree, ik zal de
landkaart aan den boom vast
maken, #
Age, z, de ouderdom, he was se"
venteen years of age, hiſ was
zeventien jar an o ud : *) her
rijdperk, tijdr uim , t if dyak,
de eeuw ; the present age; de
tegenwoordige eeuw. > .
Aged, by, bejaard, oud.
to Agitate , b, w, in beweging
ſtellen, brengen 3 the storm a-
gitated the sea, de form deed
de zee woel on ; 2) f. in he vi
ge gamoeds beweging, on troerd
zijn ; to be agitated in one’s
mind.
Agitätion”, z. f. de on troaring ;
agitation of blood, he vige be-
wegimg van het bloed.
Agó, by. verſe dam , verlo open,
~ ge/eden ; long ago, Jang gele-
den, yoor langen tijd, ſe dart
Jang ; two years ago, ſedert
(yoor) twee far en.
Agony, z, de doctl sangst,
zie frogen ; 2) alle he vige
fºr art ; agony of grief, g root 6
angst , diepe (ge moe.d4-)ſmart,
diepe droef he id.
to Agrée , o, w. owe reenfé ºwmen,
a) in een gezindheid met el-
kander 16 yen 5 the goat agreed
with the lamas , de geit Jeefale
vrcedzaam met de la ma’s 3)
to effem ºn 6 m > bewilligen 3 to
, agree to a proposal, zij me to 8-
femining to t eenig voorffel
geyen, -
Agréeable , by. aang enaam.
Agrèeably , by. op eene aangema-
me Vijze a ange naam.
Agréed , dw. it was agreed upon,
men was overe enga koman ; a
greed , als tusſchen werpſe; :
Fiat, ik ſº 6 m tº el
Agréement z. de overeenko inst ,
het verdrag , de ſchik king.
Agriculture , z, de law dhaaw.
E e S
he f
A L 345
y * g
Ague, z. eane bij afwisſaling
heete en konde ko or tº:
Ah, ( tusſthen werpſe!) ha ach
Aim, z. het doel ; he took his aim
better, hiſ mikte be ser,
Air, z. het voorkomen , het sie
tarlijke; an air of familiarity ,
een vertrouwelijk , gemººr”
zaam , voorkom; em. -
Air, z. de lucht.
Ake , zfe Ache-
to Alarm, b. w. doem on troërëh s
doen on tſiellan, ſchrik ver"
wekken.
Alarm , z, de on troering , de
fehrik. - . . . . .
Alas! (tusſchenw,) he laas
Alive, by. Jeyend, I evendig.
All, by. al., all an , alles 3 all of
you, gij allen ; 2) hot geheels
ge heel en al ; all night, denge-
heelen macht : not at all, in
hat geheel miet ; 3) als 2, ;
they have packed up their alls ,
zij hebben h unne biezen ge-
pakt (zijn met zak ºn pak
wertrokken) ; by. 2867 2 ge"
hael ; all on a sudden, gehee!
on ve rºw a cht. º
to Alláy, b. w. verminderen 3 to
allay the violence of his hunger,
zijnen ſcherpen honger fillene
to Allèviate, b. we werligten 5 an
allèviating sevant, l
Alleviation , z. de vertig ring,
Alley, z. eene laan. --
to Alów, by, to effem men, ere
ken men ; 2) verg &mmen ; foe."
faan ; he was allowed to play,
het ſtond hen; y rij, met; yer”
g unde he m te ſpelen.
Allówable, by geo orhoofd.
All-séeing, by. alaiemdé alwº-
tend. , * *
to Aliđle (anet to), met be doe-
: fing p
, 346 A L
Jing, betrekking tot jets ſpre-
ken.
to Alhire, b. w. lokken, mis-
leiden.
All -wise, by. alwijs, alwetend.
Ally, z, de bomdgemoor.
Almanack, z. de Almanak.
Almighty, by. almagrig.
Almond, z, de a mandel.
Almost, by. bijna.
A'éne, by em bv. alleen ; let
them alone, Jaat han begaan,
laaf her war raft.
Along, by. Jang f : a) in gezel-
fºhap, mede ; if he would go
along with him , of hiſ met
hem wilde made gaan. AANM.
het vz. with mag miet ‘Wegge-
Paten worden. He took them
along with him home, hiſ man
hem met zick (mede) maar huis.
Alcád, by. I wid, luid keels, hard
Hard op.
Already, by, rueds.
Also, by oak, even zoo.
to Alter, b. w. veranderen; his
circumstances were altered, zij,
ge omſ#amdigheden wareg wer.
ands ra. -
Alternately, buy, bij afwisſaling,
be ur feling f.
Although, alth& , voegw. how wel,
zie f regemſtaanda.
Always, by. al toos, altijd, ſeeds.
Am; I am , ik ban ; van h ºf work wo
to Be. -
to Aráze , b. w. doen verbaze n 3
he was amazed, hiſ was yer-
haasd. -
Amézeir ent, z. de verbazing ; 2)
de on troering. -
Amèn , b wa am en I het zij zoo !
God geve he t . r
to Attiènd , b. w. verbeferen ; to
amend his condition, zij mem
A N
toeſ; and verbs feran; 2) o. w.
beter worden , zich be teran.
Amèndment, z. de verbs to ring.
Amènds, z. voldoening, vergee-
ding ; to make one’s self amends,
zich ſcha de loos fallas.
América, z. Amerika ; an ameri-
can, een a merikaan.
Amyss, by. ongepast, kwalijk,
on yoegzaam , it would not be
amiss, he t w are mid f k waſ ifk.
Ammunition , z. ammunit is ,
krijg voor raad, k ruid en lood.
Among, amongst, v2. Ander, ré
midden van.
Ample, by... wiſd, ruinſ 5 a) rij
kelijk; to make one’s self ample
amends, zich rijkelijk ſchada-
foot fellen.
to Amise, b. we zich fijdkurting
verſ, haffen.
Amú sement, z, her tijd verdrijf.
An, zie A, een , eame 2 e5 meſs.
Anchor, z. het anker; to cast
anchor, het ankar werpen s to
weigh anchor, het anker ligten."
Ancient, by. oud, van dam 04"
dan tijd.
Anciently, by. in yorige, in 08"
de tijdom, eertijds, oudrijdt,
Ancle, zie Ankle.
And , (voegw.) em.
Anéw, by. op nieuw: , mogmaals,
Auger, z. to orn, gramſchap.
Angry, by to ornig.
Anguish, 2. de lang; f.
Animal, z. her die r ; by. dierlijk.
to Animate, b. w. bazidlen, 2)
aan moe.digen , opwekken , aar."
ſporem.
Ankle, ancle, z, de enkel (v4.p
een yoe ( ),
Annals, z. m.w. de jaarbooken,
to Annex, b, w, bijvoegan, aan.
hanges •
- tº
A P
to Annóunce, b. w. gamkondigen,
burigt gayen yan.
Annual, by jaarlijksch.
Another, by, eam ander ;
another, elkan der.
to Answer, b, w, an two orden, 2)
f, beam ºwoerdem , very allon 5
to answer an end, aan ee tº doeſ,
oog merk bean two orden , ceme
beftem ming yery uſ/en. To anss
wer the same purpose 2 for her-
zelſºe oog merk die men.
Answer, z. he f antwoord.
Answerable , by. Veran two orde .
Jijk, 2) bean two ordende, eyen-
redig, overe enko mſfig.
Antic, antick, by, ouderwets,
zonder/ing ; antick gestures, be-
lag.chelijke gebaarden.
to Anticipiate, b. w. very roegen,
voor af genie tem; he anticipated
the joy, hiſ ſwaakte reeds voor-
of de yreugde.
Antidote, z. een tegeng if, sik
& enecs middel he twelk eenige
ziekfe of Kwaal regengaar; eam
hulpriddel.
Antipode, by tegen overgeffe/d;
Z. een fégé nºvo e for , f has re-
gendeel (van icts ). -
Anvil, z, het aam.beeld.
Anxiety , z, de angst.
Anxious, by, onger aff, bezorg d.
Anxiously, by met angst , zom-
der rust.
Any, by, ieder; 2) iemand; any
where , ergens ; ; ) voor den
*ergelijkendan traps jets, was
weinig 5 any more, iets inear ;
any longer, jets langer.
Ape, z, de aap.
Appéar, o, wo werſchijnen, a
blijken, -
Appéarance, z. de verſchijning;
he made his appearance, hij ver-
Oil &
A P. 347
ſcheen ; a) hat aanzien, het
yoorkomen ; his appearance was
majestic, zijn yaorko men was
edal; 3) de ſchijm ; in all appea-
ance, maar allen ſº hijº-
Appetite, z. estluft, honger.
Apple, z, de appel.
Appletree, z. ean appefhoºm.
Applicãtion , z. de y liff, werk-
zaamheid, naarſfigheid.
to Apply, b. w. zijne opmerk-
zaamheid opiers vestigen , zi ch
to eleggen 5 he applied to learn-
ing, hiſ laide zich op her Jee-
ren roe 3 r ) toº fernard ye r-
90s g cm.
to Appoint, b. we be palen j the
day was appointed, de dag was
hepaald; 2) beffellen, aanſfe º-
Jen ; people are appointed, de
lie den zijn aang effeld.
to Apprehéud, b. w. y reazes.
Apprehension , z. de y reas.
Apprehénsive, by. Beoreesd.
Appréntice, z. de leerling, leers
jongen; to bind one’s self ap-
prentice, zich als leerling ver-
binders.
to Apprize, b. w. berig f geyem a
meldem.
to Approach, b. we made ren.
Approach , z. de aamnadering.
Approbātion, z, de goedke a ring.
to Appropriate, b. w. zich toe ei-
genen , nazien.
to Appréve ( mess t met ; of ) ,
goedkett ran , billijken ; I ap-
prove of it, ik billijk het.
Apron, z. het ſchort , de voore
ſchoof.
Apt, by. Bekwa an , s ) to t icts
genegen s one is often apt to
think, man is dikwijls genegen
on te gelo oven 2 men 20 m dike
wijls denken.
Ar-
^*.
A R.
348
z. de ſcheids man, de
Arbiter
regts r.
Arbour, z. s en prieel.
Arcadia, z. Arkadien (een land-
ſchap in Peloponnezas , de ze-
tel van het herderlijks leven
bij oude dichters ; f. e en denk-
B seldig land van onſchuld en
je gd).
Architècture, z. de bouwkunst.
Ardent, bv. vurig, innig.
Ardently, bw. vurig lijk.
Ardour, z. de hitte, innigheid.
to Argue , b. w. beſt wit en , opma"
ken , afleiden.
to Arise, o.. w. opgaan, rijzen,
the sun arose, de zon ging op,
e ) ontſtaan.; there arcse a bus-
tle, er ontſtond een gedruisch.
Arm , z. de arrn (gedeelte van
het in enſchelijk lig chaam ), 2)
de arm van een e rivier, the
artn of a current.
to Arm, b. w. bewapenen.
Armour, z. de wapenrusting, het
harnas.
Arms, z. mv. de wapenen -
Army, z. e ene armee , een leger.
Aróse, o. t. van to Arise- -w.
Aróund , bw, rondom ; 2) vz om;
around him , om hen heen.
to Arránge, b, w. ſchikken, in
orde brengen. '-
Arrángement, z. ſchikking
rigting-
Arrival, z de aankomst.
to Arrive , o.. w. aankomen.
Arrow, z. de pijl.
Arrogant , bv. tretsch , hoog-
moedig,
Art, z. da kunst; liberal arts, de
vrije kan ſtan,
Artery, z. de poJsade r; the bear-
ing of the artery, het ſlaan der
, in-
pols ader, de polsſlag.
- A S
Artâcle, z. het punt, het arti.
kel, de voorwaarde. .
Artificial, bv. kunſtig; the arti-
ficial wants, gekunſtelde of door
kunst ontſtane behoeften.
Artist, zº een kunſtenaar, am-
bachtsman. 4.
As, (voegw.) als, (bij verge?ij.
kingen, wanneer het du# bel
ſtaat, wordt het eerſte door
zoo vertaald) : they ran as fast
as they could , zij liep en zoo
hard als- zij konden ; 2) zo s 3
gelijk 5 even as you please, zo o
als het u behaagt; as it were,
als ware het , bijna als of;
3) as for, as to , wat betreft,
fert aanzien - van ; 4) daar ,
toen , terwijl ; just as he sp kc,
juist terwijl hij ſprak ; 5) so
- as, zoo - dat ; 6) ſonn tijds
is het overtollig , as yet, n og-
to Ascènd, o.. w. en b. w. be-
klinnnnen , opklimmen.
to Ascèrtain, b. w. verzekeren ,
bevestigen, bepalen.
to Ascribe , b. w. toeſchrijven.
Ashamed , bv. beſchaamd.
Ashes , z. mv. de asch.
Ashóre, bw. aan den val, aan
het ſtrand, aan land.
Asfde , b w. op zijde, zijdelings ,
2 ) ter zijde. - -
to Ask, b. w. 1) vragen, 2) ver-
zoeken , eiſchen, verlangen.
Asléep , b w. in ſlaap ; he is yet
asleep , hij ſlaapt nog ; he fell
asleep , hij viel in ſlaap-
Aspect, z. het uitzigt, het aan-
zien.
Aspen, z. een abeel boom , pop t-
lierboom ; he trembled like an
aspen leaf, hij bs efde als een
rie t .
Ass, z, de ezel.
4. As-
A S
Assemblage , z. de verzameling,
bijeenkomst .
to Assemble, b. w. vergaderen ?
verzamelen ; o.. w. bijeenkomen
Assèmbly, z. de vergadering, het
gezelſchap.
Assèut, z. 1) de toeſtemming , 2)
de goedkeuring ; all gave their
assent, allen gaven hun ne toe-
ſtern mi nºg.
to Assènt, b. w. toeſt en men ,
goedkeuren,
Assiditity, z. onafgebroken vlijt ,
onvermoeide ijver.
Assïduous, bv. ijverig, vlijtig.
to Assist, b. w. bijſtaan.
Assistance , z. de bijſtand, de
h te lp.
Assistant, z. de helper ,
helper.
to Astuáge, b: w. leenigen, ver-
vr in de rsn.
to Assume , b. w. aan netnen.
Asstirance , z. vertrouwen , ge-
ras theid , 2) verzekering.
to Ass ïre, b. w. verzekeren.
to Astonish, b. w. doen verba-
Z6 ft , 0 n t Zë t te ft.
Astö hishing, dw. verbazend, ont-
ze: tend.
Asto.ishment, z, verbazing , en t-
mede-
ze: t: ng.
Astráy , bw, verdwaald, dwa-
lend; to go astray, op den
dwaalweg gaan, dwalen.
Asûnder, bw, geſcheiden, afge-
zonderd.
At, vz. tot, te, aan, in, bij ,
op , enz. 1) e ene plaats aan-
duidende ; at Hamburgh, te
Hamburg, at table, aan ta-
fel, at sea, in zee, at the fol-
lowing page, op de volgende
bladzijde; 2) tijd aanwijzen-
de s at the same time, ter zelf-
F f
A T 349
der tijd ; at these words, o?
deze woorden, bij deze voor-
den ; at length, ten laatſte, ein-
delijk, at last, eindelijk, ten
ſlotte, at first, aanvankelijk,
in het begin, eerst ; 3) een *
gemoedsbeweging bij iets aa*-
toon en de ; to laugh at a thing ,
om, over iets lagchen ; to laugh
at one, iemand uit lagchen ; 4)
at once , eensklaps , op één-
maal, at least, ten minſte.
At e , o. t, van to eat-
Atlantic, bv. the atlântic ocean 2
de atlantiſche zee-
to A tàck, b. w. aan tasten , 448-
1'alle n.
Attack, z. de aanval. -
to Attáin, b. w. en o, w. (als o•
w. met to), bereiken, tot iets
geraken.
to Attèmpt, b. w. beproeven,
pogen, eene poging doen. - r
Attèmpt, z. de poging -
to Attènd , b. w• vergezellen ,
geleiden, ook f.., attended with
inconveniences, met zwarigheid
gepaard. Ook to Attend on, tot
iene and of iets behooren, f.
naar zich trekken.
At èntion, z. de opmerkzaamheid,
ARNèative, bv. opmerkzaam.
- to Attract, b. w. aantrekken ,
naar zich trekken, 2) lokken.
Attractive, bv. aanlokkelijk.
to Augment, b. w. vermeerderan,
o. w. meer worden, toenemen,
zich vermeenigvuldigen. --
Aukward, awkward, bv. onhans
dig, onhebbelijk. .
Authèntick, bv. echt , geloofwaar-
dig , an authentic account, een
echt, geloofwaardig, berigt.
Author, z. de veroorzaker, 2, de
ſchrijver , as the ur. - .
Aa
A U.
Authority, z, het gezag, het aan-
zien 3 2 ) de hoogfe mag t , royal
authority.
Autumn, z. de herfºr.
to Aváil, b. w. en o. w. barem,
what does it avail me? was baar
het mi; 2
Avèager, z. de wreeker.
Avērse , by to be averse (met
from em to), afkae rig zijn ,
jets omgaarne of met tegenzin
doen.
Avèrsion , z, de of keer, tegen-
2 : 77 s
Avidity, z. de gre figheid , de
hebzacht,
35O
A V
to Avôid, b, w. mijden, y armif-
den.
to Awºit, b, w, verwachten, af.
wach ten, op fats avach tem.
to Awake , b. w. ºvekken , wak-
ker make a , o, w. on tw.akcm ,
de o. f. awóke, begin t t e yer-
og derem.
Awike, by. wakker, on twaakf.
Aware, by . to be awáre, gewaar
worden, be merken, bewust zij m.
Awāy, by. weg.
Awe, z. de eerbied, oot moed.
Awhile in p! adts van a while,
een fijd lang.
Awkward, zie Tukward.
Ay, fa.
B,
Bäck, z. de rug.
Bäck, by. terag; we shall soon
be back again, wift zullen in
korten tijd terug komen.
Backward, by, ruggewaarts, te-
rag, achterwaarts ; backward
and forward, he en en we der.
Bäde , o. t. van to Bid.
Bad, by, ſlecht , (vergelijkende
trap worse, ſlechter, erger;
over traffende trap , worst ,
flechtſie , ergſfe).
to Baffle, b. w. verij delen; his
hopes were baffled, zijne ver-
wachtingen werden, zijne hoop
oward, te Jeur gaffeld, verif-
del d 5 oak : he saw himself baff-
led in his hopes.
Bag, z. de zak, tasch ; a hun-
ter’s bag, eems wift asch.
Báiliwick, z. het ambf, baljuw-
ſchap, - of Rizzebuttle, het
ambs Ritzebnt teſ.
to Bāke, b. W. bakken.
Báker, z. de Bakker.
Bâle, z, de baal, het pak.
Ball, z. de kogel.
Balm, z do balſe m.
Baltic, z. de oostzee, ook Bal-
tic Sea.
to Banish, b. we verbannen, ver"
fagen.
Bank, z. de og ver, voormamelijk
van ri yi are m , 2) een zandbank.
Bankrupt, z. een bankeroetier;
to become bankrupt, bankroes
maken, bankroet zijn.
Bar, z. eene ſtang, ſtaaf; iron
bars, ifzéren faves, 2) sen
balk ; a Warping-bar, een ºve-
vers boom.
Barbádoes , Barbados , een ei land
in de West indi em. -
Barbārian , z. een wilde, een bare
baar. -
Barbárian, by, barbaarsch, wreed.
Barbarous, by. wreed, wild, on"
trenſchelijk.
Bá.
B A
Bäre, by, raakt, onbekleed; 2)
with his bare hands, met zijne
bloote handerſ.
Bärefoot, by, bloof voets.
Bargain, z, ten koop , overeen-
kom st; fig. he gave him many
good lessons into the bargain ,
hiſ gaf he m n og daarenboyen
werſch cidene goede lesſen.
Bärk, Z. de ſchors, bast 3 oaken
bark, eiken has to run.
to Bärk , o, we b) affen ; the dog
fell a barking , de hon d begon
ferk te blaffen.
Barley, z, garst.
Barrel, z. een vat, eene ten.
Barren, by. on yrachtbaar.
Barrow, z. eene baar, berrie ,
draagbaar; a wheel-barrow,
een kru.iwagen.
to Barter, b. we en o. we ruilén,
in rui ſ'em. *
Băses bv. flecht, laag, laaghar-
tig.
Băsely , by. op eene laaghartige
1v if ze.
Båseness , z.
laagh aid.
Bāshfulness, z. beſthroomdheid,
be ſchaam dhe fº.
Básis, z, de grond, de grom dſlag.
Basket, z. de mand, de korf.
Basketmaker, z. een man demaker.
Basketmaking, z. her mandenma-
ker.
Basket work, z, sandem werk,
mandem makers ºverk.
Bass, z. bast mat , eene kerkmat.
to Bäste, b. w. het gebraad aan
he ſpi; met bo ter of vet be-
ſprengen. R. basted his meat
with sea water, R. beſprenkel-
de zijn vleesch met zee water.
Bath , z. het bad.
o B the , b, w, baden, zich ba-
Jaaghart gheid ,
F f a
B A 35t
den; – with wine, met war-
men wif n baden. -3
Battle, z. het get echt , de flag.
Băy, z. de baai , bog f : kleine
zeeboezem. ---
to Bé, o. we zijn of wezen (ge-
heel on regelmatig) – met he *
dºw., whilst he was working :
terwijl hiſ werkte, order ziji,
werk , gedarende zijnen ar-
beid; whilst I am telling, ter-
wijl ik verte), – met de 0°-
be paalde wifs; he is to blame,
hiſ is te beri spen, hiſ yer-
dian f be rispr t's worden ; I am
to make, ik moet make n 5 z)
worden; he wished to be a sol-
dier, hij wenschte san ſoldaat
te worden.
Béach, z, he fiſłrand, de vlakke
6 6 y º ſº.
Bèacon , z. de vaſırbaak, de yuur-
*0 refſ, *
Béad, z. kleine kogel, korre!,
knopje 3 glassbeads, glaskara-
len, glaskraaltjes.
Béak, Z. de bek , de ſhayei.
Béain, z. de baſk, 2) de licht-
fºraal ; sunbeams, zonneft rals n.
Béan , z, de boca , french beans,
roomſche boon em.
to Béar, b. w. drag en, f, ver-
&ragen s 2) aan zich he bher; ;
to beer resemblance, gelijkheid
Rebben , gelijkam s - a relation,
be trekkelijk zijn, verinaag-
Jºhapſ zijn s 3) o. we ſlagen,
wel witvallen, gelakken 3 to
bring a thing to bear , i.e. s rar
ſtand brengen; 4) to bear away,
wegſiepen , ºne deſlapen, voort-
of weg woe ren.
Bèard, z, de Baard.
Bearded, by, gebaard, met sense
baard voorzien. &
sº.
Beard •
B E
352
Béardless, bv. zonder baard.
Béast, z. een dier. - -
to Béat, b. w. ſlaan , 2D klop-
Pen ; R. beat his meat, R. klop-
te zijn vleesch ; f. your heart
with delight, – for joy , uw
hart zal van vreugde kloppen.
Beautiful, bv. ſchoon, fraai.
Beaúty, z. ſchoonheid.
Becáme, o. t. van to Become.
Because, voegw. omdat , wij /.
to Bèckon, b. w. en o.. w. nv en kon.
*o Become, o. w.. worden ; to
become bankrupt, bankroet ma-
ken ; 2) to become of, de uit-
gang , het gevolg van iets
zijn ; what will become of you ?
ovat. zal er van u worden ?
what became of him ? ºwja t is
er van hem geworden ? 3) b.
w. be tam en ; with becoming
respect, met behoorlijk en eer-
bied. -
Bèd, z. het bed, de legerſtede,
2) een t s ivmbs d; flower beds,
bloem bedden.
to Béda ûb. bedawb, b. w. hc-
ſmeren.
Bèdchamber, z. de ſlaapkamer.
to Bedéw , b. w. bevochtig en, be.
ſproeifen.
Bèdſellow , z. de ſlaap makker,
bedgenoot.
Bèdside, z. on his bedside , naast
zijn bed, voor zijn bed.
Bée, z. de honig bij.
Béen, dw. van to Be.
Béer , z, het bier.
to Befâll, o.. w. bejegenen , we
dervaren, overkom en ; this ruis-
fortune would not have befallen
you, dit ongeluk zoude u niet
getroffen hebben. er
Beſó ce, vz. voor, (van tijd of
plaats ſprekende) , - b w. eer,
vroeger dan , te voren,
B E
Befórehand , b w. vooraf, voor-
uit ; I knew beforehand that
B. was to come, ik wist voor-
af dat B. zou de komen.
to Befriènd , b. w. begunſtig en ;
no wink of sleep befriended his
eyes, geen ſlaap ſtreelde zijne
0 0g en -
to Bèg, b. w. verzoeken.
Began , o. t van to Begin.
Béggar, z. een bedelaar.
to Begin , b- w. en o. w. aanvan-
gen , beginnen,
Beg Anner, z.. een beginner, een
nieuweling. -
Beginning, z. het begin, de aan-
vang, • ...
Begûn, dw. van to Begin.
Behàlf , z. voor de el , behoef’,
n ut ; in our behalf, ten behoe-
ye van ons , t e n onze n voor-
de e'e ; in his behalf, t en zij-
n en behoeye.
to Beháve , b. w. zich gedragen ;
to behave kindly towards oi. e ,
zich jegens iemand vriendelijk
gedragen.
Beh á viour, z, het gedrag , de han-
de Iw ijze.
Be! èld , dw. vat: to Beh óld.
Behind , vz. ach ter , b w. t er ººg ;
he left him behind , hij liet
hem te rang. v.
to Behóld, b. w. zien, beſchou-
nven , de gebieden de nv ijs be-
hold, als tusſchen werpſe l ge-
bruikt , be te e kent : zie eons,
zie daar ! w
3éing, dw. v an to Be, zijn de 3-
being overhéated, verhit zijn do.
Béing , z. het aanwezig zijn ,
het beſtaan ; 2) een wezen ,
iets dat beſtaat.
Beliëf, z.. het geloof.
to Beliéve , b. w. en o.. w. ge-
looyen. UK)
B E
to Bèllow, o. w. bla eten , brtal-
len. -
Bellóws, z. mv. de blaasbalg ,
ook wel : a pair of bellows.
Bèlly, z. de buik ; to eat one's
bclly full, zijn buik vol , zijn
genoegen eten.
to Belong, o.. w. toe behooren ,
behooren.
Beloved , dw. ook als bv. be-
mind, waard, dierbaar.
Belów, vz, ouder, bw, beneden,
ont laag.
to Eènd, b. w. ba igen ; to bend
a bow, den boog ſpannen , 2)
naar zeker pur: t rig te n ; he
bent his way to his habitation,
hij ſloeg den weg naar zijne
woning in ; his mind was bent
upon it, zijne gedachten wa-
ren daarop bepaald. s
Ben éa:h, vz. om doºr , bw, bene-
de ne, o zº laag.
Benefactor, z. de weldoener.
Bènefit, z. de veldaad.
Benevolence, z. de weldadigheid.
Ben évolent. bv. weldadig.
Bent, dw. van to Bend, his knees
were bent in gratitude, dank-
baar boog hij zijne knie.
Benürnbed, Benümmed, dw. ver-
ſtijfd, verkleumd. -,
to Beseéch, b. w. ſmeken,
den, dringend verzoeken.
B-side, Be ides, vz, naast, bij,
bw. bovendien, daarenboven.
to Besiége, b. w. belegeren.
to Bespéak, b. w. beſtellen , be-
ſpreken; to bespeak a place on
beard a ship, e ene plaats aan
boord van een ſchip beſtellen.
Best, bv. overtreffende trap van |
good, he t , de beste ; 2) z. the
best, his best, zijn best ; he .
made the best of his way homo,
bid-
F f 3
B E
# # # -
},D. D
hij deed zijn best om ſpoedig
te huis te komen, hij ging zo 2
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, toe voegen , geven -
to Betáke, wederk. w. zich bege-
ven ; he betook himself to rest ,
hij begaf zich te r rust.
to Bethïnk, wederk. w. zich be-
zinnen, zich bedenken, he be-
thought himself of another ex-
pe dient , hij bragt zich een
ander middel te binnen.
Bethought, o. t. van to Bethink.
Betime, Betimes , b w. bij tijds,
tijdig , 2) vroeg ; he rose be-
times, hij ſtond vroeg op.
Betóken , dw. van to Betake.
Betook, o. t. van to Betake.
to Betráy, b. w. verraden ; 2)
on trouw , trouweloos jegens ie-
mand worden. -
to Betrüst, b. w. toe of aakver-
# F 0 tºt 1376 pa ,
Bètter, bv. en bw. vergelijk ce de
trap van good; the sooner the
better, hoe eer hoe beter, hoe
eer hoe liever ; to get the bet-
ter of, overtreffen, de loef af-
ſteken. -
Betwéen, vz. tusſchen.
to Bewáre , o.. w. zich hosden,
zich wachten, beware of that,
wees daarvoor op uwe hoede,
wacht u daarvoor, beware of
falling sick, wordt niet ziek. - -
to Bewáil, b. w. betreure is, be-
49 e efférg, * # .
to Bewitch , b. w. betooveren
Beyond, vz. aan gene zijde, over,
vooruit, l X-
ten
354. B I
to Bhd, b, w, verzoeken, 2) #s.
ve/em : 3) to bid one farewell,
to bid one adieu, iemand vaar-
weł zeggen,
an and nemen.
Blg., by gro or , dik.
Bigger, verg. trap van Big, the
bigger, z. de grootſien (ondar
de fonge lieden).
Bigness, z, groot to , dikes.
Bill, z, de ſnavel, de l'ek.
Bºllow , z. de baar, golf.
‘o Bind, b. w. binden, zaman-
& inden, 2) f. verb in den ; to
bind one’s self an apprentice,
zieh als learling in dienst be-
gey 68.
- Binding, z, hot binden, de band.
Birchen, by, birchen bark, ber-
kém ſchors.
Bird, z. de vege?.
Birth , z. de geBoorte; birthday, ,
de geboor redag, de verjaardag
'wºn jerº awas geboort e.
Biscuit, z. beſ;huit, tweekak,
Jºheeps beſchaft, ſcheepsbrood.
Bit, z. eene best, eon mond pol ;
a bit of bread, send be re.broods;
2) een ſºukje 3 a bit of iron.,
een fºukje iſ zer.
Bitter, b v. bitter.
Bitterness, Z. de 4 frterheid, 2)
kommer, droefheid, verdrie t.
Black, by. zwart. !"
Black, z. sem zwarfé, één me-
ger, des moor. *
to Bláme, b. w. Jaken , berispen,
of kouren. -
Blámeable, by. Jaakhaar, heris-
… pelijk, ſtrafb.aar. -
Blast, z. ket blazen van den
wind, een hards wind, een
rakwind.
Blāze, z, de brand; a ship all in
afſcheid van ie-
B O
a blaze, e º a ſchip is lichter
Jaaifer y! an in e.
to Bléat , o. we blažen (als de
ſchapen), *
to Blèss , b, w, zage men , g : 14 K-
kig makem 3 bless gle lieye
he me !!
Blessing, z, de zegen, 2) he: ge-
Iuk , dē wely...art, he t we lzijn.
Blew , o. t. van to Blow.
Blind, bu. blind.
Blister, z. eige uſijk eene b12 ar,
maar ook dargene he twelk bla-
zem trek t of zuig ( , een trek-
ple is ter , ſpaanſche v lieg.
Blöckhead , z. een do moor, ean
fºom meling.
B'öod, z. het bloc d.
Blö odshed , z, he t bloodſfortan.
B body, by. b Jos dig.
B!össom, Z. de b losſe m.
Blötch , z. e o ne z wēc r , b ui/.
Blów, z. een flag , ſhe ot, houw.
to Blów, O. wa wa a if cry bla-
zerº ; the wind blew, de wind
wroe i of ova aide, 2) opy liegen
(van bask raid ſºrekends); the
ship blew up , her ſchip ſprong:
in de l k cht , 3) by... f. to blow
out one’s brains, ie ºn and certs
kogs) door dem kop jagen.
Blówn, dw. van to Blow.
Blue , b v, blaauw.
Blünder, z. een gro ye misflag,
dom me freek,.. -
Bóard, z. eane plank, 64 m deel,
2) de rand van een ſchip, her
boord; to go on board, aart
boord gaan ; to cast over board.
over bo ord werpen.
to Bóast, b. w. en o. we (més
of), zich heroemen. -
Béat, z, de boat ; het ſchip.
Bodily, by. lig chamelijk ; bo.
| dily exercises, Jigchaamsoºf”
mins
W
B O
m ingen ; bodily strength , lig-
chaamskrach ten. --
Body, z, he f lig chaam, het liff;
a dead body, cen lifk, 2) een
perſoom , van daar; some body,
jemand ; nobody, misºn and , 3)
cene menigre perſºn en , als:
the body of the clergy, het lig-
chaam der gees relijkheid.
to Böil , o. wa koke n : the water
began to boil, her water be-
gan te kokem, 2) b. w. Kokem 3
to boil meat, yle e ſ ch koke #.
Böld, by, koen, driest, onver-
frh rokken , ºrijs 6 stig , wrif-
moedig, roekeloos.
Bºldly, by. op eene wrijmoedi-
ge, dries to wifze.
Bºldness, z. en bey rees dheid, wrij-.
moedig he id.
Bölt, 2. de grended ; with strong
iron bolts, met ſharke if zerers
grende is.
Bónd , z, de band.
Büne, z. ecm been , (deel van her
gebec m fe): whalebone , bale in
of walvis chbeen 5 fishbones ,
gratºm , (vischgraten ).
B. ok, z, he r boek. lº
Boön , z. het geſchenk, de gift.
Bóot , z, de Jaarss halfboots,
halve Jaarzen.
Bºoty, z, de buit.
Büre, dw. van to Bear.
to Bóre , b, w. bor em.
Böre, z. de boor.
Born , Börne, dw. van to Bear,
the ship was born by a strong
tide, her ſchip werd door ee-
men hoogen vloed voortgadre-
wer, 2) geboran.
to Borrow, b. w. borgen, lee-
ne? » (on theenen). -
Rºsom, 2. de boezen, de borst.
bºth, by, beide. .
F f 4.
B R 355
göttle, z. acne fles ch ; a bottle
of wine, eene fle sth vijn , de
bodern van de zge 5 he went to
the bottom , hiſ ging Fe gron-
de , h if verzonk. -
Bough, z, de tak van eemen.
boom. -
Böught, o. t. van to Buy.
Böunce I ui troeping om ec nigers
plotſºlijken ſlag te Kennen te
ge were
Bound, dw, en o. t. van to Bind,
the ship was bound to Amster-
dam , he f ſchip was maar 4 m-
fardam beſies, d.
Böund , z, de gren's ſcheiding ,
grams, gren ºpaal.
Böuntiful, by. mild, grootinoe.
dig , welda dig.
B untifully , b w groot meedigi i}k,
miłddadiglijk.
B' unty, z. mildheid, goedheid.
to Bów , ( airgs/proken sls bou),
b wa em or w. buigen.
B w y (witgeſproken aſs boo), z.
gem boog. *::: * > * * s
B. wer, z. eam prie e!,
hu is je. #
Bowl , z gene kom..
Bówl, z. sene kogel, een bal
een bol. - . . . . . .
Bówsprit, z, de boegſbriet. i
Böx, z. eene doos, een koker.
B y, z, een jongen , een ksaap. ;
my boy, Jieye jong ºn 1. ~.
Grâce, z. een paar ; a brace of
pistols, een paar pistolem. ,
Brăidstitch, z. de kettingfiesk.
20 fºre
Bráin , z. de herſe men; ºvanneer
men de verſtandelijke verno-
gen ºvil re kennen geven, haeft
dif woord seest her inv., it
puzzled his brains , , hiſ brak.
zich her hoofd daar over ; his
braius
356 B R.
brains worked hc ef: dozelſde
be reeks n is. *
Bráke, z. eene braak , her overk-
taig waarme de men y! as of
han nip braakt.
Bràimble, z. ean braanbeziem-
ſ? r u i k.
Brân , z. za me!em.
Branch , Z. de
bo o ſm.
B, and , z. de h rand.
to Braudish, b. w. zwaaifen ; to
brandish a lance , et me lar, s ,
eene ſº ee r zwaaif a.m. ; to bran-
dish a sword, een zwaard of
degen zwaaifen.
Brà a dy, z. brande wifm.
Brasil, z. Brazilia (in Zaida-
wierika).
Bráve, by. moedig, koon, 2)
braaf, earlijk.
to Brive , b. w. uit dage m , trøf-
fºren, her hoofd bieden.
Brávely , by. dappar, on verſthrok-
ken, braaf.
Brávery, z. de dapperheid, moe.d.
Bravo, tusſchenw. bravo voor-
treff, Jijk.
Bread, z. brood ; brown bread ,
rogge m brood, zware brood.
Beadtree, z. de broodboom.
Breadth , z, de breedte.
to Break, b. w. en o' w. I rekºm,
yerbreken, varſche uren : the
cable broke, de kabel brak's to
break down, afbreken, omha-
Jen, 2) fig, he t aanbroken (yam
den dag); when the day brake,
teen de dag aanbrak 3 to break
loose, lo; b. eken , los harstem.
Break, z. de break; 2) the break
of day, het krieken , het aan-
breken van den dag.
Breakfast, z. het on bift.
fak van ee mem
so Breakfast, b, w, on thiſ ten > ||
2ich ontmacht grem •
i
B R
Breast, z, de borst.
Breastwork, z. de bor; tweer, d
varſ:h an ſºmg. 4 * 4 ºx
Brèath , z, do a dem ; to draw
breath, adam halen ; he was
out of breath, 2) ean zache
windje, een ſuch tye.
to Brèathe , o, wi ademon, ade ºn
/cheppen, adem halan, 2) b.
w inade men, 3) aitade mem.
Bréathless, bv, adom!o of , buirem
a dem. --
Brèd, o. t. en dw. van to Breed.
Bréeches, z. mv. de Broek; a pair
of bréeches, eene brock; riding
bréeches, eene rifă, roek.
to Bréed, b. we opy oedem, g root
brenge m ; tenderly bred up,
weekelijk opgo y ded, taederlijk
opge voca. -
Brethren, z. broeders, (eeme one
regelma tige vorm van he f any.
van brother). -
B, ¥ck , z. eem bakſ; gen, brikſſeen
klinker , tig chel.
B ickláyer, z. ecºn me tſelaar.
B, ickmaker, z. een ſhe enbakker.
B ickwall, z. oem fee men ºn u ar.
B Adye, z, de b rug 5 a draw.brid-
ge, een ophaałbrug.
Bright , by. helder,
b ſank.
B instone , z. de zºvayel.
to B ing, b. we brange tº ; to bring
about , (even als to , brirgº to:
bear), tot ſtand brengen ; to
bring up 2 opy of den , g roof
brengen. ... - -
blin kend ,
Brink, z. de rand; the brink of
a precipice, de rand van genen
afgrond. t - . . .
Brisk, by. Jevendig 5 a brisk fire ,
eam prolifk yus r. -
Broad, z, breed; 2) broad day,
: ; , k/qar
*…--
B U
klaar lichten dag : 3) a broad-
sword, een ſabel , pallas F.
ſ: röke, o. t. yam to Break.
Bröken, dw, van to Break.
Bröker, z. de makelaar.
Broºk, z. eem e beek , kleine ri-
vier.
Bröth , z. vleeschma t.
Bröther, z. de Broeder.
Bri,therly, b v. Broeder lijk.
Brötight , o. t. en dw. Van to
Brina.
Brºw , z. het y o orhoofd, 2) he t
ge he eje aangezigt ; by the sweat
of his brow, in her zweet zijn & ‘
aamſchiſms.
Brºwn , b v. bruin ; brown bread,
zwarf brood.
to Bruise, b. we kne azen ; he
was bruised by falling, hij had
zi rh in het vallen Bezaerd.
Bruise , z. eene kneuzing, eené
lig fa wonde.
Brûsh, z. de Port to 1.
Brütal, by. wild, be estachtig ,
ºw reed. +
Brutality, z. wreedheid, on men-
ſchelijkheid.
B ſite, z. et a be est , een reder:-
loos die r.
Brútish , b v. Beestach tig , dem,
ºvil d. -
Brătishness, z, w iſ de , 36 estach-
tige wreed he id.
to Bübble, o. w. op borre/en.
to Bild, o. we knopjes uitſchie-
ten , t if b et fen.
to B ild, b. w. Bottwen.
Builder, z. een bottwar , bouw.
in ees ter, boa wheer.
B.ilding, z. het bau wan, 2) het
gebo ºw.
Built , o, t, en dw. van to Build.
Bulb, z. een wife, een bol, (wor-
**} van cenige plant).
F
f
B U 357
35
Bündle, z. een hunder, bosch.
Bürden, z, de last , he: p-k, de
vracht.
B rāensome, by. zwaar, las; ig.
Bürried , dw. 7 am to Bary.
to Burn, o. wbranden ; the fire
is bu' ning on , het ya ur blijft
voort branden ; 2) b. w. ver-
brandem : he had burnt his hands,
hiſ had zijn e handa n verb rand;
to burn one’s brick, zijne bak-
feene m, tig chels bakken ; to
burn lime, kalk brandem.
Bürning, by. en dw. gloe iſ end
branden ; the burniag heat, de
b ramden de hit re.
Bürnt, o, t. en dw. van to Burn.
to Bürst, o. wo. bars ten ; 2) f. to
burst into tears, in tranen äi t-
Barffen.
Bürst, o. t. en dw. van to Burst.
B.:rthen , .zie Burden.
B.rthensome, zie Burden.
to Büry , b, w, beg raven.
B sh, z, de fruiks het kreuper-
hout. -
Büshel ; z. een ſchepal.
Büsily , by; if ve rig , drak; he
was busily employed , hiſ was
druk bezig.
Bösiness , z. de bezigh did ; upon
some b siness, on eems of an-
dere zaak, Bezigheid.
Büskin, z. eene halve laars.
B sile, z, he t geraas . gedruisch.
Busy , by, b & cig; to be busy with
a thing , met ié tº be zig zijn ,
2) we, kzaam. -
to Bilsy , b, w. to busy himself,
zich be mos; fen.
B.It , maar, doch, 2) flechts a
maar; I have but three guineas,
i k he b fleshes drie guine as ,
3) ware he t niet 0 m, niet w8-
gen's 5 but for the storin, ware
6?”
358 B U
°r geen form genveest; (ive-
gets de overige be teeka misſèn
*** *it woegwoord , zie de
Spraakkunst).
to Bitcher, b. w. flag tew.
Bütter, z, de borer.
Bittermilk, z. de karnmelk.
to Bütton, b. w. to eknoopera.
to Bay, b. w. ko open.
*y, va, biſ, (eene plaats aan-
C A
Cabin, z, de kajuit.
Cable , z, he tankertonºv, de ka-
be?, het kabel to uov. Gewoon-
Wijk is he tº 6oo yoe ten , of 120
wadem, en lang, we shalve men
hetzelve aan boord der ſche-
pen aſ: een en maatſiaf voor
andere lengten bezigt 3 they
had scarce rowed four cables
length from the ship.
Cacao , z. de kaku o , (de vrucht
ºvaaryan de chocolade yoorna-
melijk &e reid wordt). -
Cáge, z. eene kooi.
Calendar, z. een aſ manak, tijd.
wijzer.
to Calculate , b, w, be reke mem.
Calāmity, z. het omgeluk, de we-
derwaardigheid, tegenſtand.
to Call, o. we em b. w. roepen ,
ſchre canvem i to call to , toe-
roeper, 2) noe mem.
Calling, z, he t be roep, de roe-
ping.
Calm , by. ſº iſ , kal in , gerºus f.
Calm , z, ds kalm te, ſºilſ e.
to Calm , by. geru ft fºe!]em , ſ: il-
Jem , be wrodigen.
Cáme , o, t, yan to Corne.
Cámel, z, do kangº,
|
B Y
duidende); he lives by himself,
hij woon f alleen, 2) bij, ( t if d
aan wif zen de ); by break of day,
bij het aambraken van deſt
dºg ; by this time, om dezon
tijd, nu, thans, 3) door, door
middel yam ; by degrees, traps-
gewijza : by no means, in gee-
merlei vijze , in - her gehée l
wier.
C A
Cámerade, be ter Cömrade , z, ka-
me raad, makkar. .
Campeche, (van her Spaams ch
Campechio), z. her , in he f
Amerikaansch genvest Campe-
che te huis hoor endo, verw-
hout , Brazilienhout , ook Log-
wood, zie Logwood. *
to Can, o. we kus men ; I cannot
but, ik moet.
Canal, z. eene grach t , eene & ree-
de gracht , een kanaal. -
Canarybird, z. een kanarie vogel,
the Canary islands , z. m.w. de Ka •
mariſcha e i landen.
Candle, z, de kaars ; by candle-
light, bij het kaar slicht.
Candour, z. spreg theid.
C.ne , z. rot fing , riet 5 sugar-
cane, ſuikerriet. -
Cannibal, z. een in womer van de
Caraíb iſche bilan den , een ka
nibaal, men ſcheme rer.
Cannon , z. een ſºak geſt hºt, 6.6 ft
kan on , (a piece of cannon).
Cannonball, z. een kan on kogel.
Canóe, z, eene kaun , eene door
Avilds n very aardigde boot.
Canopy, z, the canopy of heaven,
de ſier rºm he wel ; under the (*.
Il Ome
|
C A
nopy of heaven, onder den & Joo-
ten he mel.
Can’t, in plaafs van Cannot,
Cap, z. de muts ; to pull off one’s
cap, zijne muts afme mem.
Cºpable , by. ( met ; of) be kwaam,
fm ſaat. &
Capacious, by, ruim.
Capacity,
he f vermogen.
Cápe, z. eem voorgeberg te , eene
kaap; Cape - verd Islands, de
Raap verdiſche ei landen , de
eilan den vat, he f groene yoor.
geberg te:
to Caper, o. we ſpringen, hup
pelen.
Captain , z. de ſcheepskapite in,
Captive, z. een g cycngeme.
Captive, by, geyang en ; the cap-
tive lama , het geyamgene lama.
Captivity, z. de gevangenſchap.
Caracter, zic Character. *.
Caravan , z. eene karavane, sen
gazelſchap van reizigars of
réizen de perſomen, die zich
*0 t on derlinge veiligheid yer-
ge nigem. 4.
Carcass, z. ean dood ligchaam,
een lifk.
Cardamomum, z. (als Kardamum
titgeſproken), paradijsko ren,
zeker graam. #
Cire, z. zorg, zorgvuldigheid ;
to take care, zorg drag an , 2)
900 rzig figheid.
to Cáre , o, w, zorgen,
dragen.
Careful, by, zorgvaldig, bekom-
*ord, bohoedzaam, vlijt ig ;
Careful of his life, yo or zijn
leven zorg ende.
Carefully, by. zorgvuldiglijk,
****igtiglijk a 2) angſtig-
Wºjk,
z. de be kwaamheid,
zorg
C A 359
Cireless, by zorg aloos, on#e-
koſh merd , a chtel o os. -
Cárelessness, z, zorge]oorheid,
ach feloosheid. :
to Carèss, b. w. liefkozen , fºre-
Hen.
Carèss , z. liefkozing.
Cârgo , z. de lading van éett
ſchip.
Cà ribée, z. een der Karaïbiſche
e i landem in West in dien,
Cărpenter, z. den film in errn art,
f: heeps timmerman ; carpenter’s
work, t im mermanswerk , f im-
m 2 riverk.
Carpet, z, he t y Joerkleed, ta-
pij : ; f. there was something
upon the carpet, er was jets
gaande 2 dr was je t's op her
tap if t.
Carriage, z, yoerwerk , rift sig,
2) een affair.
to Carry, b. we v of rem , gele i-
den , 2) rijden, ware m, weg-
woerd m , 3) dragen , 4) f. in
her werk fellen, ten ſuit voer
brangen ; to carry one’s point,
zijn oog merk be reiken , 5)
( met off), weg ſlepen ; the con-
sumption carried him off, da
tering ſloepre he m in her graf,
6) ( ºne f on) ; voorty are n ,
voortzetten, veryolgen.
Car: , z, dc k ar; a carthorse, een
karrepaard.
to Carve, z. ſnijden , aan fuk-
ken ſnijden ; 2) ſterlijk beſnij-
dem in ſnif dem. -
Cáse , z. het geyaſ ; in case , in
géval.
Cast, Z. den yat. -
to Càst, b. w. werpen, ſlinge-
ren 5 to cast anchor, he tanker
werpen s - a lance, eene fans
werpen 5 f. to cast a look, eers
bjik
c E
Plik werpen ; 2) to cast down
one’s eyes, zijne oogen no der-
ſ' aan ; 3) . to cast forth fire,
ºw a ur ºr i : 108 rpen , y war bra
ken ; 4) to cast up, u it wer-
pem , op werpen.
Castle, z. ed n ſlot , een ka steel.
Càt , z, dc kat.
to Catch, b. w. vangem; 2) f. to
catch fire , yu ri r yatt sm 5; to
catch cold, ko tide vattem, wer-
ko “d two ralem.
Catchéek, z. een Kazike , Cazi-
ke (e.8 m IMexikaansch worst).
Catholick, a Roman catholick, z.
een Room schgez in de.
Cattle, z. tain vee , kudder.
Cáve , z. een on deraardsch hol,
2) cen ke lºc r.
Cavern , z, certe ſpel onk ,
Hol.
Calight, o t. en dw. yam to Catch.
Cavity, z. de holte, he t hol.
Cañje, z. de oorzsak , degrond,
de redd. -
to Catise, b. w. vero or zaken ,
be ºverke it. -
Cali.ion , z. voorzorg , voorzig-
tight id. --
to Calition , b. w, waarſch wºven.
Catitious, by. voorzig fig", *e-
hoadzaam , waakzaam •
to Céase, o, w, ophoudon, (ge
woonlijk me t from ), the wind
céases, de wind gaat ligger,
to Cèlebrate, b. w. vie rem , p?eg-
tig vić ren.
Celerity, z. ſpoed, ſchie lijkheid,
/nelheid, gezwindheid.
Cèllar, z. de ke!der.
to Cénsure, b. w. Jaken a be-
36o
€& W.
.r is pen. - -
Cèntinel, z. (ook Centry), d
/childhvacht. -
Cèntury, Z. 668 & 66 ſlºw.
C H
Cèremony, z, pleg tigheid, pligts
pleging ; without any ceremony,
zomder pligt plaging em. -, *
Cèrtain , b v. zeker ; I know it for
certain, ik weat he t zeker, 3)
ook in eenen on be paalden zin ,
gelijk het Hollandſche avoord
zeker ; a certain kind of clay,
zekere ſoort van vette klei.
Certainly 2 b w. zekerlijk.
Cèrtainty, z, de zekerheid.
to Cháce, (cháse), b. w. f agen,
drifven ; to chase away , yer-
jag crº verdrij ven.
Châce, z de jag f.
to Cháfe, b. w. do or wrij veſs
7) e r14 ºf ºn 6 ºz.
Ch in , z. de ketting, 2) eaſts
reeks van met elkander ver-
bondeme zaken of dingen 5 a.
chain of rocks, ceme ke ten y 6 m
rotſe m , een rif.
Ch is , z. de ſº 9 el.
to Challenge, b. w. for den fºr ifd
ui tº agen.
Chámber. z- de kam or ; bed -
chamber , de ſla apkama r ; a
va' et de châmber, een kamer-
die naar.
C*ampion, z. de kampye chter.
Chance, 2, de kans, he t geya! »
to evol, galuk; by chance, toe-
vallige rivijze , b iſ to eval.
to Chênce , o, w. roey allig gé-
he are ºr , y o ory allen ; he chall-
ced to have , h if had b if to 6.
va) ; I may chance to fall, ſº 0-
gelijk val sk. -
to Chánge, b. 'w. verandere n >
verwisſe Jem, ruiſen 5 to change
a mouse into a bird, eene mu is
in een on vogel veranderen , 2)
o, w, zich v0 rander 6 m.
Cliánge, z. de ya ran dering , y0 f*
w is ſº ling. -
- Chh.
C' H
Channel, Z. de zseengte, em be-
paaldelijk de zee&ng te tusſthen
Engeland en Frankrijk, her
kanaa].
Chapter, z. her hoofdſtak , ka-l
pittel.
Character, z. their comrades gave
them the best character, humne
kameraden gay on her bes to ge-
tuige m is vam hen, bet uigden
dat zij brave, eer/ijke lieden
*}” a Fe ºf ,
to Charges b. 'w. Jaden, bela-
dºn, een goweer of ſnaphaan
laden , fets eparagem of belas-
t cm ºr 6 f ic ty.
Chârge , z, de last , fading ,
wrach r, 2) het ambt, de wad r-
digheid, e erpos t , 3) he t op-
zºgt, de zorg.
Chârgeable, by, for Jast, Jaftig,
'bezwaarlijk,
Chkrm, z, de be koorlijkheid.
to Charin , b. w. be koram , is ne-
men , be feoye ren. w .
Charming , , by. be koorlijk , aller-
liefst.
Charm (uitgeſproken alf Kasm),
z het yak, de ledige ruimte,
de gaping.
to Châtter, to Chat, e. w, pra-
tew , kotten , b abbe len.
Clattering , z. het gepraat, he t
ge batbel. - t
Chéarful, by. Cook cheerful), zie
Chee; ful en volg.
to Chéat, b, w. bedriegen.
Chéat, z. bedriegerij, he t be-
drog , a] een be drieger.
to Chéck, b. w. te k cer gaan,
kégren , fºuí ten, terug hou-
den ; to check one’s indigna-
tion , zijne veron twaardiging
verbergen.
Clivek, z, de wang, de koon.
G g
c H 361
Cheer, 2. jºb if s , efeº £?? drie.
i
ke: ; to make good cheer, he er-
lijk etea , ſmullen.
to Cheer, b. w. opºwekken , be-
moe.digen, opra'i men , y relijk
maken , to cheer one’s mind,
zijnen geest veryrolijken, 23
o, w. y rolijk worden ; cheer
up! he iſa , laat ons vrolijk
zijn 1 houdt goeden moed 4
Chečrful, by, yrolijk, opgerai ind,
blijde. * . .
Cheerfully, by. met Aſijdſchap.
Cheerfulness , z. vrolifkheid s
%lijdſchap. -
Cheerly, by. y relijk , met blijé,
fe hap.
Chečse, z, de kaas.
to Chérish, b. w. koefferen, vers
war men. /
Chèst z. de ka s , de kist.
Chiéf, by, hoofdzake Jijk, was r.
naamſte § his chief business was,
zijne wo ornaamfle bezighai4
- beffand in ; the chief contents,
he t hoofdzakelijke van den in-
hoºd. º
Chiéf, z, de voornaamſe perſon,
opper be yel he bber.
Chiéfly, buº. voornamelijk
zonderheid,
Child, z, het kind. . . -
Childhood ; 2. de kindſche jaren,
de kind she id. ' - -
Childish, by. kindrch, kinder-
a chrig. . . . .
Children , z, inv. van Child.
Chimney, z, de ſchoor/feen.
Chimèrical, by. ( uí:g eſp. als:
Künerical), herſenſchim mig ,
ong egro ~4, fide!, ingebeeld.
C ºn , z. de kin. . -
Chisel, da heitsl. , t
Chocolate, z. de chocolads.
Choice , 2, dà keuze, verkieziar:
Choite,
P ins
Choice, by. aftgelezen, witge-
zocht, voortreſſelojk; the choi-
cest blessingh, de beste zegen.
362
to Chôose, to Chūse, b, w, kie
zen, verkiezen, willen, yer-
langen, wanſeken; he chose
rother, to play than to work, hiſ
•wilde lie ver ſpołem dam ºver-
ken ; if you chuse it, indie 2–
gif her variang t , als het a
behaagt. -
Chése, o. t. van to Choose.
Chösen, dw. van to Choose.
Christian, z. een christens
christelijk.
Chârch, z, de kerk.
Chârchyard, z. Het kerkhof. -
Chū, n, z, de kern, het kerm var,
4e hoter kerm. -
bv.
to Chūrn, b. w. kermen, hoter
maken. . .
to £...ise, zie to, Choose.
Cinder, z. de kool, (yan wnur).
Cinnamon, z. de kanael. ,”
Circle, z, de kring , ſirkel.
£ rcuit, z. de 0 m trek.
Crcular, by ſerkelvormig, rond,
Circiimference, z, de omtrak, on-
yang.
Circumspêction , z, de voorzig rig:
heid, amzig figheid. . .
Circumstance , z. de omſtandig-
heid, 2) my, toeſtand, met be-
trekking rot vermogen ; his
circumstances were altered, 2ijn
poeff and was veranderd.
Circumstantial, by, omfºan dig a |
circumstantial account, een om-
fandig, verhaal ºf berigt.
€sars, z. mve de ſo haar. . . .
citizen, 2. de burgers fellow-
citizen, medeburgers
City, z, de Éad. . . . . . .
Çiği º by burgerlijk º z) beleefa,
wººleyapá, boſshaafu,
|
C L
to Civilize, b. w.”heſehaven.
to Clàmber, b. w. met modite ta.
*Hmmen, beklouteron. -
to Clap , b. w. flaam ; clapping ,
their hands, met de hamden
k/appen de ; 2) he clapt the
match to the touch-hole, hiſ
bragº de Jont aan he tzundgar.
Clap, z. een flag ; a clap of
thunder, cem dogderſlag.
to Clasp, b. w. clasped hands,
geyouwene handen. - -
to Clätter, b. w. rat elem, klet-
*eren, geraas maken als met
, Wapetzen enz.
Clattering, z, clattering of arms,
een avapengek letter.
Cláw , z. de klaaw.
Cláy, z, de leem , klei, pot-
aarde, , -
Cléan, by. zindelijk , ſchoon,
rain ; clean linen , ſchoon lin-
mem. - *
to Cléan, b, w, zuiveren, ſthoons
maker, , was ſchen, reinigen.
Cléaner, z. i.e in and die zuiver:
of ſchoon maak t , a cleaner of
flax, ic mand die het yja's zui-
y £7 f, •
Cléar, by, he ider, klaar, rain,
zuiver, 2) opporuima, wro-
lijk, 3) wrij van geyaar; they
got alcar of the sandbank, zij
maak ten zich van de zandbank
los, 4) daidelijk, luid, helder
(van Klank); a clear voice, oe.
me heldere ſº cºn.
Cléar, 'o. we helder words ºn ,
opklaren 5 the shy cleared ūP y
da lucht we’d helder, 2) b, w,
helder maken, opheldere n > 3)
zuiverem , reinigen, ont doen,
vrijmake n, on flag ten, he clear-
ed his cave from the ribbish,
hijzuiverde zijnhol van de pºin
- Cléar-
to
C L
Cléarly, by. duidelijk , oogene
/thijn lijk. * * ~ *
to Cléave, b. w. klo oven, ſplij-
ten ; to cleave wook, hous
kJoo v&m. ... -
Cºrgyman, z, een gees telijke.
Clerk, z, (aitgeſpr. als Iºlaark),
eam kłork, koopmans- of kan-
to orbedien de. -
Clever, by, knap, handis ; ah |
clever no of geraden. , - , ,
Cliff, z, de Rip , feile refs.
Climate, 2. de luchtgefteldheid,
her Klimaat, de luchtſfreek.
to Climb, b. w. en o. w. beklim".
then , opłlim men.
to Cling, o, w. aan
rotſen kJe ven.
Cloath, zig Cloth.
Clock, z. klok, uurwerk, horo-
logie; at two o' clock (at two
on the clock), ten twee uren.
Clöd, z, de kluit, aardkluit,
to Clóse , b, w, fluiten, to aſſui-
# fe h . - - . . . *
Clése, z, het Weſluit, her einda;
the close of the day, he t einaſe
van dem dag de ayondſchen, e.
ring. - . . . . .”
Clºse, by, ingeſloten, beſloten,
*) digt, vast; to draw close,
vast te trekkes, 3) na bij al-
*ander, digt & iſ ; close by A-
merica, nahij Amerika s a clo-
•e fighting, een handgewecht,
4) geheim, verborgan; to keep
close, gaheim houden.
Closely, bws maauw, eng; clo-
sely united, maqaw ºverbonden,
haauw met elkander wereenigd.
Cloth, z, de floffe, he # laken ,
has laken, 2) de kle cding ,
(*th weer gebraikelijk in her
iefs hangen; ,
where they cling to the rocks,
waar zij (de oesters) aan de
Cóarse, bv. grof Cyan ſtaffºn),
C. O. - 363
in We clothes, a suit of clothes,
een volledig kleed); to put on
one’s clothes, zich klee den; to
pull off one’s clothes, zich ont-
kJeeden. +. . . . .
to Clöthe , b, w, klee dens
Clóud, z. de work. * * *
Cláudy, by 46 works, betrožen,
the sky becomes cloudy, is Pach:
betrekr, words met wałken be-
de k?. º
Clove, z. de Kruidnageſ.
| Club, z. de knots, knuppeſ.
Cling, dw, en o. t. van to Cling,
Custer, z, de druirens ros.
Cánch, z, de koets. . . . .
Côal, z, de kool, feenkool, vaur-
kool. |
*) a coarse voice, eene ruwe,
grove ſem, 2) Jomp, ploºp,
onge maniard. . . . . . . .
Coast, z, de kus r.
Cóat, z, de rok ; coatpocket, de
rokzak. • * - - - -
Cºck, z, de haan.
Cockleshells, z. Jehulpen, mos-
ſºlſchuleen. .
Cécoa, Cocoa nut, z, de kokos.
$400 fºr ~ 1
Cºcoatree, 2. de Kokosłoom, ee-
nº ſoort van palmboom.
Cöd; z. ſºokbisch, gearoogde ka-
beljaauw.
Codfisher 3 ºz. een ſºokviscivas.
ge r , *abeljaauw.vanger. , - '
Codfishery, z. de fokvischyangst,
A kabéliasawwangs f. ; :
Côd, z, de peul, de ſthiſ. . . .
Coffee, z, de kaff. . . . . . . . . .
Cogitation, 2. de gedaehre, dyer.
denking s, absorbed in despoid-
wing cogitations; in . wamhofſge
. ... gepeins yerzonker, a
G g 2 * : - to
364 C O.
to Cóin, b. w. ºn unren, geld-
flaam , fempajam. -
Cóin , z. gem unt geld ; in coin ,
in klinkemde mahr.
Cöld, by. kozid.
Cold, z, de keude ; to die of cold,
3'an koude ferven, 2) de ver-
JR. zai koude y aftem.
to Collèct, b. w. verzamelen,
bije enbrengen.
Collèction, z. eene verza meling.
Colony > z. eems volkplanting,
kolonie.
Cölour, z. de kle ur.
to Colour, b. w. verwen , kle a-
ren; coloured, gek/eard, bont ;
coloured stones, bone fleenen.
Cómb , z. de kam.
Combatant, z, de ſtrijder, frij-
dende.
Comb-Istible, by. brandhaar.
to Côme, o. we komen ; to come
off, y an afkom an , weg koman,
weg rake n : , the time to come ,
de to ekom, t , all what is to co-
me, a 1 waſ n og toekom ende is ,
al wa t er ge be uren zal ; when
you come to be better instraet-
ed., wanmeer gij be ter onder-
rigt zult zijn. -
Comely, by. aangenaan, beval.
Iig; a comely, haadsome young
man een be vallig fongeling.
to Comfort, b. w. verkºwikken ,
fºerkem , 2) troof ten , 3) ver-
Alijden ; to be comforted with
sleep, door den ſlaap yarkºwikt
worden. • ,
Comfort, z. de hulp; 3) troost,
3) vermaak, geluk ; the com-
fort of his ſellowcreatures assis-
tance, he t geluk van de halp
zijner medeſthepſ lem te ge-
Åoading ; R. will get a cold ,
C O
friefen ; to take comfort, moed
494 ft 6 ſº,
Cömfortable, by. tro of trijk, 2)
aangen aam, verb lifdend, ge-
noegelijk ; the comfortable voi-
ce of a friend, da aang ename
fe ºn eenes yriends ; a comfor-
table supper, een aange maam ,
ſmakelijk , genoegelijk a vond-
etén 5 a comfortable state of
life, een zorg emy rif, on bekom-
merd, gerust, a angemaaz leyen.
Comfortably, bw. op e one aangs"
name iwijze.
Comfortless, by. troos fe?oos.
Cômical, by grappig , aardig 2
Beldg chelijk.
to Corn in and , b. w. baysler: ; to
command a ship , he t be yel over
een f hip yoe rem , 2) beft rife
kem 3 two cannons commanded
the right ſlauk, twee kan on men
befºreken de regter zijde.
Command , z. he t be vel.
Commander, z. de be yelheb #4 r.
to Commènce, b. w. beginne mºs
aan vangen. -
to Commènd , z. sasbey elem, aan-
prºjzan, prifzaz.
Commèudable, o. Joffé lijk , prijs-
waardig.
Commentary, z uitlegging , ver-
klaring , yerklaren de , aas-
merking. -
Commerce,
handel,
Commission, z. de last , gedra-
gene bondſchap of werkzaaz-
heid, 2) het begaan ; the com-
mission of a fault, he tº begaar;
eener dwałing.
to Commit, b. w. to evertro awen,
opdragen, be lasten-3 +) to coln-
mit a fault, a blunder, a cri’
me, aenen uitſlag gene. Poºps
: fºur p
z. de koophande! .
C O
four, eene misdaad begaan of
#legeſ. . .
Commödious, by, gemakkelijk.
Commºdiously, by... gemakłelijk.
Cominodity, z. gemakke?ijkheid.
Common , by. gemoen; common
sense , he tata urlijk of ge-
zond verſiand, 2) geneenſchap-
pelí; k = 3) algeineem. .
Commonly , by, gemeenlijk, ge-
wogm lifk.
Commótion , z. betweging , on-
ruit , volksbeweging , 2.) ge-
meeds beweging, or ; roering,
to Commiinicate, b. w. mededee!en.
Coinpšnion, z, de makker, ge-
zel, kameraad. :
Cöimpany, z, he t gezelſchap.
to Compáre, b. we vergeºiſken.
Comºrison, z. de vergedijking. ,
to Cönpass , . b. w. own ringen,
oms even 2 on vatten, inſt hie-
***, *) toe geraken, berei-
der verkrijgen ; that we can
*il compass, daar toe knºmen
wij alle geraken , dat kannen
* if allen be reiken.
Compass, z, de krºng, da on.
trek; 2) her kompas, (de mag-
testmeald in derzelver door,
diemende tº r aanwijzing war:
hºt Noorden). . . . . . . . . . .
Compassion, z. her. medelijden,
K
de ontferming; to have com-: ||.
Psssion on one , medelijäen met.
fe mand hebben. - .
Compassionate, by mºdelijäend.
* Cºmpel, b. w.gwingen, nood -
zakers.
:
i
Competent, by. regrinatig, be- -
had Îijk, valdoëndis's compe-
Went fluiéncy in reading, isºe ge-
- • * • ºg • ‘s. • * , • ?-? s -
noeg came viiiigheid in hat
Jezes. ... • ‘ • 4. . . .
to Compláin, o.º.w.. over fet; #ia.
£48, zich bek/agen,
| g g s
** : * ~ * *Sº -
‘C O. 365
Complainiºg, 2. de klagº Aber
khagen. . . . . . . . . . . * *
Complaint, z. zfe Complaining. '
Compléat, zia Complete. . . .
Complete, by. Yo Heilig 5 votko-
men ; a complete idea ; *eh yo!-
findig begrip. *
to Complète, b. w. yolledig ma-
ken, voſtooijen , 2) tet fand
brenges, voteindigen; ' ' '
Complètely , by. gehief, you.
- Komen. . . . * , , e.
Complexion , z. de klear wanºhar
a'anzezigt. . . . . **:
Cºmpliment, z, groet ;" to send
one’s compliments, zijnen grost,
zijne groeienis zenden.
to Comply , b. w. (met with), Gs
were enftemmen, twelfaan, zith
to 'en weigsvåHen. . . .” -
to Compése, b. w; opſ effea, ver-
vaaraisen, 2) toëberefºgo-
reed maker; to compose 6ns’s
self to sleep; zich to ſtaped
f:hikken. -
Compºsed; dw. Żarnänggºld, fº.
Jaandes to be composed, be-
făan. . . . . . . . . . .
Compésure, z, with the greatest
composure, ºne; as #Poof, ºft.
daardheidºses tº groºfy gº-
rās theid.sº sº tº . .
to Comprehéºd, 6, w;#######e.
3. watren ; 'inhoaden; 2) isérij.
pen, bevarren, verſtaan: “”
Comprehensible, by. Bºtterijk.
Comprised, dw. Beyār .#egre; £ # e.
“Computation, zi di Bergºing.
to Complite
* ... - %
* : * ~sº
§, sº *.
* --> . *...** *X_*
• 4 sº-
• *, *, *.*.
--. gº-ºº-ºº: & . .
* b. w; rººtnº; Be-
******* * : * , , . . . . . . . * *
rekess; ***: - « » .
ºft.* hierada, maker,
concavity, z, as heirs. ".
to Conceal, b, w, verbergen, , ,
Concéit's zº de yourſeiling, her
- às-
366 C o
a 2) her verſtand", het
Aºrffellings vermogen.
to Concéive , b, w. Begrijpes,
he oaf ten , werfaan , inzien ;
to conceive an idea, op eene ge-
dachte ko men.
to Concentrate , b, w, te zam en-
trekken , op een punt yeree-
migen.
to Concérn, b. w. aangaan, be-
treffen , 2) veron trusten, be-
droeven ; to be concerned, be-
kommerd zijn , verlegen zijn ,
6 met about).
Concerning, dw. Bºtreffende, aan-
gaande.
Concerted, dw. a well concérted
plan, een wel overleg d plan.
to Conclude , b, w, ſluiten, be-
fluifen, 3) e indigen.
Conclusion, z. de beflisſisg , he t
oordesl, 2) hat ſlot , beſt ai = 3
at the coeclusion of my narra-
tion, aan het einde van mijn
ºverhaal.
Concord, z. een dragº, eenig- |
zindheid.,
Concºrrence , z. made warking ,
hulp , bijffand.
so Condémin, b. w. vero ordeclan.
Condition, z. de gefieldheid eener
2aak , de toeffand; a walful
condition, een droey iga toe-
fand, 2) de voorwaardes upon.
condition, onder veerwaarde.
Conducive, by. he hulpraam 2 be-
3 orderlijk.
to Conduct, b. w. leiders, yoarah,
is rengen, -
Cºnduct, z. het gedrag,
so Cooter, b, w, toedee len, (***
upon, on), to caufer a benific,
sene veldaad bewijzen.
so Confer dignities upon one, waa”
418 he den aan jemand oparages.
i
C O
to Conféss , b, w. bakemment, sr.
Fennen.
to Confide, o. w. (met iu), zijn
vertro a we n fellen ; to confide
in God, op God, vert rounven.
Confidence , z. het vertro awen.
to Confine , o, w. aan fets gren-
zen , 2) b. w. in ſlui ten , 3) op-
flui tem.
Coaſtlement, z. gevangenſchap.
to Confirm , b, w, bever tige a y
2)'ook in den 'zin van ſerker
make m be vestigen.
Cönflict, z, he t gev echt.
to Conförm, o. wa zich maar fe?
rigten , ſchikken, inſch iEken.
Confotinded, onfroe ra. , 2 ) waſ:-
hopig ; a confounded thing, ee-
me wanhopige zaak, eens zeer
on aange name zaak.
... to Confése, b. w. ys row arren s a
confused noise, ean verward
geſchreeuw, esn verward gé-
f" ſº a ſe -
Conſtision , z. de verwar" ing; 2)
beſthaming, on troe ring.
to Congratulate., b. we gelakwen-
ſchem.
Cönic, Cönick, by: Kage/vermig3
a conick mountain', een kegel-
º' or sige berg.
Conjecture, z. de gisting , hef
yermodalen,
to Conjëcture, b. w. vernoedd a .
vooronderſfellen.
Cobjurer, z. eem too venaar.
to Contëct , b, w, verbindan i
connected, yerbon den , zamens
hang&nd,
to Conquer, b. w. overwinner, 5
to conquer ourselves, ous zel-
wen ouer winnen.
conscience,. z. het gewe ten s li-
, berty conscience, wrijheid vaº
gº-
C. O'
gave ten, wrijheid van denkº
wif ze. *
Corsciêntiously, buy. met een gred
ge we ten , in geºve tem. -
Cönscious, buſ. bs ºvu f ; ( met of ,
to be conscious of wicked ac-
tions, ºich zel ven fºsshte da-
den bºw a 3 r zijn.
Consciousness, z. bawur theid:
to Consent, b, w. to ºfferſºn ºn , .
in wiłł fgºn.
Consent, z to effe mining.
Consequence, z, he # geyo Ig , 2)
he t gewig f ; a matter of con
sequence , eene-zaak van gº wig f.
Cönsequently, by. g3 poigelijk.
Conservátion , z, liet behoud:
*o Couserve, b, w.-be wares, be-
how dex.
Conserver, z. d’s behoºds r.
Consider, b, w; beſthouwen, aan-
zie ºn ; they were considered as
wise meu , zij werden a ange-
merkt ais wif:e fiedes-, z) te-
den kan, overwegen, in over-
weging nemen.
Considersble , by. agazism lijk,
aarimer #elijk.
Considerably , bºw. zeers, groore-
Jijks, aan ºngrkelijk.
Considerºtion, 2. de beds sking ,
overweging.
to Consist, O. we behaarr, wir
fe º zānsengefeld zijn (set of).
Consistent, by. beftaanbaar, vot
befaan kan: , oversenko aftig
( met jets):
Consclition, z. de troort.
to Consó, e, b. w; troos tem.
Conspiracy, z. de nwiterij-, de
*pśand , de zaraenzwering.
Constancy, z. de flandvast igheid.
Constant, by gcdurig , a ſtand-
C () 36?
le, eefe vasts- fief regel , ess
onyer brekelijke regel. *r.
Constantly, bºw, ged uriglijk, ſtande
2as tiglijk.
Consternátion ,-z. de ontroering,
on 28 ft ingº. -
to Constitute , . b. w. in rigten º'
frh, kken , aanſfe Jers; .#
Constitution, z. in rigting , 2}
Jigchaansgefieldheid; to-harden
one’s constitution , zijn lig-
chaats gefel hard makes, fier8
make n, zijne gezondheid vers.
fe:-ken. -
to Conströct, -b, w; veryasrāīs
gén, bosw8m.
Construction, z, de Bosworde, zas
menſtelling.
to Consult, b, w, zich beraden 5,
2) on raad vragen , raadpies
gen's to constit. plysicians, gas
neeshe erem raadpiegen. .
to Constale, b, w, en o. we wers;
teres, gekruńken, nut tigen.
Consumption, z. de seringziektes
Contágion > 2. Befºre fing, ba-
frnettefiſke ziekte.
to- Contáin, b. w. inhosden, is
złch bºvatten sº 2) term ghose
den be perksn.
to Contemplate, b. wº. es: o, w,
be ſcho advert , 2.) overdenken.
Contemplátion; 2, #eſckouwing 5
idle coutemplations ,
f:hºrn men, .
Con empt, z, de Verachting.
$erſese
§Contèmptible , by. Verachtelijk.
Contënt, by, re wresex.
to Contént; b. v. f.e. y reden fºsſ-
3'astig; a constant resolutiou,
48tº sayſ beſtāif, a constant ru-
len, beyredigen , voldoc.n.
Contënt, 2. Bey redenheid ; to his
heart’s contënt, tos zijn's inzi-
ge tº prede wheid : a) raw. coa-
tênts, de in hous 5 the chief con-
tents, de Hoofdzakelijka inh9 ud.
Corº
§63 co
Contënted, by, en dw. tayreden,
vergen oegd. -
Contentment, z, tevredenheid.
Contèst , z. de t w is f, tweef rijd;
: a hard contest, een zware frijd,
Continent, z. het was t e land.
€ontinual ; by. gé du rig, onop-
house? if R.
Continually, by. gedariglijk, zon
der ophosden.
Continuance, z, yo or: daring.
Continu, tion , z, de voor i during,
he t veryolg.
Continue , o. we poor fa aren , s)
* b. w. y o of 22e; ten , year: *arem,
veryolgen, voortgaan.
£on:örsion , z, de draai, wending,
b triging.
Cöntrary, z. het regendeel ;
the contrary, daaren regen.
Cöntrary, by. tegen 5 contrary to
their wishes, regen humºre wen-
ſchen, enganſ?ig; 2) the wind
was contrary, de wind was tc-
fins by contrary winds, door
regenwinden ; a contrary idea ,
eene regen overgeffe; de meening
Contrast, z, her affe kende , her
regemovergeſtelde 2 de regen-
fre?! is:g.
fe Contribºte; b. we ºn o, w.bjj-
Aragén, -
Contribiºtion, z. bijdrager, 2)
be last ing; an annual coutriºu-
tion, eens jaar; if k ſche fêa t-
t frºg.
Cont ſwance , z, de uity inding ,
2) de in rig ting ; a very wise
contrivance , eene zeer wif ze
in rig timg.
to Contrive , b, sw. uit winden,
verzin men ; he contrived a rape,
hij von d middel on sen to unv
fe maken ; how to contrive that,
CD
C O.
figren she contrived his kitchen
so, hiſ rigºte zijne keuken
zoo in. - +
Convêniency, z. gemakkelijkheid.
Convênient, by, gemakke Rijk 3 a
convédient ceilar - een geºn a k-
kelijke, een goede kelder, s)
geſchiff, behoorlijk; conveai.
ent measures, geſchikte in a a t-
regelen 3 convenient weather ,
ge/chikº of gumſtig weier.
Convêniently, by. geraakkojijk,
geſ hikr, a terge legener tijd,
ep behog rhijker tijd.
to Converse ; b. we ſpreke: , zich
** = i emand on derhoudem.
Conversätion, z. geſprek, onder-
houd.
Convert, b, w, veranderen, yer-
wis/elen 5 to convert a thing
into an habit, iets in eene ge-
*oon re doen verkeerez, iers
fºr eeze geºyoon te make n, z)
bedeeren , 3) to : eenig gebraik
aanwenden 5 to convert to some
USC,
Convéy , b, w...yotrers, Brenges.
Conviction , z. de cy erraiging.
to Convince , b, w, over raiges.
Convilision, 2. ſtºp , ſtaip trek-
*ing.
Cook , 2. de Rok = keukenmeid.
to Codºx, b, w koken.
Cočkery, z, her koken, de kook.
kuns; ; the art of sookery, de
Rookkun; r.
Cool, z. de & alre ; in the cool
of evening, in de av on déosits.
to Coof, b. w. verkoslem.
C&pie, zie Copy.
Cópiously, b w. rijkelijk, oyer-
yloedig. * *- - -
Cºpper, z. het kaper.
Copy, z, een affkhrift, eene #4-
h.
hoe zel strº dat makes # 2) in-
| -pie; 2) ser, easiºplaar; two
those
C O
thousand c-pies of it were print.
ed, twee daize rid exemplares
ºverden er vam gedº skt.
to Cºpy, b, w. mayo Igen , nama-
k tº , naapen. -
C. rai, 2. de koraal, Fraaf, (ze-
Her koºk- ºf ſteenaardig zee-
genvas).
Cörd, z. her koord, her rouw,
de ſt r *k, d's /noer.
Cordial, by hart; erſterkend.
Cordial, z. ºene hart verſerking
Cordiiſeras, z de Andes, zekere
hooze berg Peten in Zuid - 4
trerika. -
Corn , z, he t koorm ; a barley
corn, een garster koorn of Før-
reſ?, 2) her graam in het al-
gé zreer.
Corner, z. een hock; his in tising
earner, zijn peinshoºk.
torps, Corpse, z een lijk, doed
Jigchaam.
to Corrèct, b. w. beſtraffºn,
titch tigen, 2) verbs tº re.” 3- tº
correct one by piläishments, fe-
*and 30 or such tigiºgeº war
bete ren.
to Corriſpe,
ds ryen.
Corrêper, z. es n beds rver,
Corruption, 2. het bedsrf.
to Cöst, o. we korzeń,
Cºst, Z. de kosten;
C sty, by. kostelijk, prachtig.
Cotich, 2. leger tede, rust bed;
a couch of hay, een rast & d van
hoof.
to Cöver, b. w. Bedekkes, dek-
Ken , toedekken.
b. w. en o. wa Be-
Govering, 2. her dekſei, oyer-
trekſel. -
to Covet, b. we ſets bege ren,
(**st van ongsoo rºofde be-
£4674 tº ſprekends - w
+
G. g 5.
C O. 369.
Could , o. t. van Can , he could
not but think, hiſ kon zich mi ºf
on the aden van te deaken , hij
mos º op de ge daſh; e ko ºr 3 m . .
Colinseil , z, raadryergade ring.
Cotif.sel , z. de raad.
to Colint, b. w. tel ſea , z) bers=
kca ex ; he counted his days-,
hiſ te łdz , bef ekende zijn &
dage 7.
Coti. teaznce, 2. her gelaar, her
ge zig f , z) her poorkoren, with
a cheerful countenance, ºne t e s a
yro Iijk gelaat , 3) #edaard-
heid, gemoeds rust; to put our
of sountenance, in yer legene
he j.] dº en gºryken, doen on t-
ſtelle n. *
Cotints r charm , z. t egen be rooºs.
ring, or rt oovering, Bez wering
to Coºter charm , b w.regenbe-
fooveren, on ; to ove- en , dē has
to overing door and ºre tooys-
marii does op' oriden. -
to Cººterí:i: , E. W. ngmaker, a.
mayolgen , nabo a tſen.
Country's z. hºt and, een lands
2) #2 * land, he tº plat i e land,
in tºgenſteiling van de ſtad;
to live in the country, op her
Hand Peven , 3) her waderland;
he forgot his country, hiſ yars
Aſ a f 2i fin yader land. ~.
Country-man, z. eew landman,
boswºman , khism an , boer ,
country Reople, landliedes, 2)
de land; man, de Janágenoot.
Couple, z, een paar, twee dix-
gen ran den zelfdan aard, 2)
(*m paar, eenigs; a couple of
times-, esn paar males ; a
couple of miles , een pass-
* if len.
Courage, z, de mosé, enhayreside
hside.
Code
370 co
º, bv. moedig, onbe-
cºurse, 2. de loop, 2) de w
*** *** ſchip , de Koers, 3)
the t ge volg, her vervoſg; of
cóurse, bºy ge volg, 3) de le-
**** wifee; course of life,
Cow, z, dà koe.
Coward, z. een
durfaict.
Cowardice, Cowardise , Cowardi.
* > 2. lafhar righeid.
Cówardly, bw bang, zonder moed.
Crick , z. de krak, een krakend
gelaid, 2) als far ſthen tw. krak
3) eene ſcheur, barst of ſpleet.
to Cra k, o. w. kraken.
Cracking, z. het gakraak.
to Cram , by. Jºappen ; they cram-
ned a handkerdief into his mouth
zij ſopran een en zákdoak in
ºff men mond.
c #zy, by & inneloor.
Cream, z, de room van de melk.
to Create 2. b. w.ſºheppen. a yogrf.
brangen.
Cretion , z. de ſchepping."
Creitor, z, de ſºhepper.
Créature, z, he t ſ: hepſe!.
Créditor, z. ean fehuldeiſcher.
Creek, z. eene kreek, kleine
zeeboezem, eene bogt.
to Creep, o. wikruipen. . . .
Crépt, o. t. en dw. van to Creep.
Crew , z. het ſheepsvolk.
Çried, o. t. van to Cry.
Crâne, z, de misdaad.
Çrºminal, by. misdodig, z. een
an is dadiger. - -
Croëked , dw. van to Crook ,
kron, gebogen 3 two croaked
branches 2 - twea krom gebogene
rakken : crooked horns, kron-
ºne hearmam. . . . . . .
Crop , z, de engtt.
ég
Wafaard, een
&
C U
Cröss, z, het kra iss -
Cross, by, dwars ; crossbeams,
dwa's baſken ; crossthread, een
dwaarsdaad.
to Cröss, b. w. overgaan 3 to
c"oss a river, oyer es no ri yier
trekken.
Čr wid, z, cent gédrang van as en-
ſ: he m. ; , -
to Cr wa , o, we zich dring en ,
zamendringen.
Crêwn, z, dc kroom ; a crown of
- large leaves, eam a kro on yan
groote bladen , z) een geldſpa-
cie in Engeland van de ovaarde
van 5 Engelſ: he ſchellingen (3
gulden Holland: ch).
to Crown , b, we f. bekroom en 2
be hoon a m.
Crüelty, z. de Ayreedheid.
to Crush, b, w, kne azen, k we f-
fen , werple t t eren ; to be cruss
hed to death, werpletterd worden
to Cry, o, w, ſthraeuwen , roe-
pen 5 to cry for help', on hºp
ſthree awen. .
Cry, z, her geſch réguy,
Crystal, z. het Kris tal.
to Cultivate , b, w. op& 0.84weh .
aamb outven , aan- of opk we e=
kan 5 f. to cultivate ‘one’s mind ,
zijnen g dest beſtha ven.
Cunning, by, behem dig , 2) listig,
flim ; the old parrots were too
cunning , a Cunning a man, een
waarzegger.
Cúp', z. eene kop , ean kopje 3
a teacup, eene theekop.
Córd, z, roomkaar.
to Cúre , b, w, he elem; genezen,
Curiosity, z, de nieuwsgierige
heid, weetgierigheid. . . . . .
Cárious, by, wear-ofmies.wsgierie
|Curled, by. kross 5 curled hāir,
Kress hasr. . . %. , . . .
- Clips
C U
Current, z. de ſtroom, de Jeep
*gn aeme ri yid r.
Currier, z. een looijer, leer tou-
wer, huidemyetter.
to Cºrse, b. w. very/oekem 3 yer-
wenſchen. 4.
Cúrsed, by, van to Curse.
Cüstom, z, de gewooste , het gé-
Braik.
Customary, by, gebraikelijk, ge-
Two on. - g -
to Cut, b, w, ſnijden, 2) hou.
iºn -
D A
Dáily,3 by. dage?ijksch, by, das
ge lijk f.
Dáinty, z, lokkernij.
Dáinty, by, letter, kiss ch in het
ge bruik van ſpijs en drank; a
dainty palate , eeri lekkers tong.
Dáiry, z. het melkha is ; a dairy-
maid, eene melkmeid.
Damage, z, de ſchade , het verſies.
to Damage, b. w. ſchade we roor-
zaken , baſcha digen ; the da-
maged ship , her beſchadiga
ſchip. g •
pamp, z. de damp.
Daup, by vochtig , 39 neveld.
to Damp , b, w, dempen; to damp
his joy, zijne y reugde verbit-
fe re?!.
Dampness, z, vochtigheid.
to Dauce, o. we danſen.
Dance, z. de dans.
Danger, z. het geyaar.
Dángerous, by. gevaartijk.
Dängerously , bow. geyaarlijk; dan-
gerously wounded, doodelijk,
geyaar lifk gewoºd.
to Dáre, o. w, durve”, wagen ; º
A dare say, ik gºld ºf, ik zos
C U 371
wen, of houwen ; to ait down a
mast, eenen mast afhounvert,
kappen ; 3) in ſnijden , inhou-
ovem, 4) f. doorſnijden ; the
ship cut the waves, het ſchip
Kliefde de baren ; 5) to cat
one off, iemand wegnemen , 6)
an eminence to cutthrough, eens
Hoogte te doorgraven.
Cut, z, de ſne de.
Cütlass, z. ear: li art vanger, 28°.
ker ſo ort van korten ſabel.
D A
durwen zeggen , ja , dat geloof
i # , mij dunk r.
Dark, by donker, daister, 2)
donker yan kle ar; dark-red,
donker rood. º
to Darken, b, w. verdaís rerem ,
verdonkers n > donker worder.
Darling , by, be mind , geliefds.
the darling son , her geliefdo'
zoom tie. g -
Dart, z, de weapſ?ief. -
to Dart, b. w. worpen, eigenlijk
en f. the moon darted her beams,
de in aan ſchoa t hare fºralen s
ſchie ten van werpſkhich ran 5 s)
o, w, when the lightuing darts
from the clouds , wanmeer de
i likſe m wit de wolken ſchief.
to Dash, b. w. ſlaan , ſloten, a)
verb rijzel en 3 to dass to pieces
$ ) werp era.
Dash, z. een flag, foot.
| Dáwn, z, de dage raad 3 the dawn
of the day, de morgen- of och-
Dinghter, z. de do chter.
to Dawn, os w. kie men, dam bre-
ken (van den das ).
sendſ&he maring, --
D.Y a
}
372 D E
Dáy, z, de dag ; to day, heden;
one day or a another, wroeg of
Haar, eems, een maa!. \ -
Päybréak, z, hot aawbrºken yan
den dag. .
Dáylight, z. het dag licht.
'Dāytime, z. de tijd van den dag ;
by daytime, hiſ dag. *
Bèad, by dood; dead silence,
doodſche ſºilte, --
Bèadly, by, doodelijk; the deadly -
*
sweat, he do odzweet.
3Déal, z. een deel ; with a good
déal of trouble, met veel moe i-
te; what a deal of trouble 2 wat
ee ne moei re.
to Déal, b. w. drelen, verdee"
Jen s 29 o, ... ham de len; God ,
thou dealst justly with me, God,
g if handelf regtyaarāig met mi;
Déaling , Z. de handelwijze, de
behandeling. .
‘Déar, by geliefd , waard ; o
dear! 0 he me!! a) duur, hoog
in prijs.
Déatly, by. my déarly beloved
to Decay, b, w. Iokken; they de-
coyed the sailors in the words,
zij Iokten de matrozen in fle
bosſchen.
to Decrée , by, en o. w. Beſlui.
ten , y ast fºe! fen.
‘to Dědicate, b. w. wif dam , toº.
wijdem , opdrag em.
Deéd , z. de daad, de handeling.
to Deém, b, w, achten, denken,
17: 86 ºf €º.
Deép , by diep.
Deér, z. de reebok.
to Deféat, b, w, varwinmen, ver-
nielen, ver ſlaam ; to defeat the
enemy.
Defect, z, he t gebrek , de gebrek-
käge zamenſtalling.
Defence , z, de verdediging, de
zekerheid, ya iligh?id.
to Defend, b. w. verdigen, ba-
Jºhermen.
to Defer, b, w. eno.w.. werſchui-
ven , sº itſfellen,
‘Deficient, by, gebrakkelijk, ge-
A rek hebbe m de.
to Defråy, b. w, de kost en dra.
father, ºn if m die rhaar be minde,
vader.
Tèath, z. de dood. - * -
to Debär, b, w, uitſlui ten ; to be
debarred from the communica"
tion with mankind , van allen
menſchelijken omgang uitge
ſlo ten zijn. .” -
Ilêbt, z de ſchtild, de ſchulden.
‘Dece sed, by, geſtory em.
Tceéit, z. het bedrog, de be-
driega rif.
to Decóive, b. v. bedriagen, mis-,
1e iden. .* -
10écéiver, z. een he drieger.
l
r
to Decide, b. w. beftisſen. . .
Decision , z, beſi ºffng. ) -
Dºck, z, het verdek van een ſhip
to Decláre, b, w, verklaren.
gen, wrijhowden , voor (is-
mand) be talem , (iefs) be kos .
fig em.
Degrée, z. een rrap; by degrees,
trapsg civijze , Jamgza murhand,
a ) graad j to such a degree,
tot zulk een hoogen graad.
to TXeject, b. w. moe.de loos ma-
ken, neerſlag fig make n.
Dejëction, z. de mov dežno theid.
| to Deign, o. we zieh varwaardi-
gen, voor waardig houdem :
deign thou, o lord my life to
regard, neen, o heer gena-
dig mijn leven in awe bu-
feherming. -
to Delây, b. w vertragen, ver-
foluiyen, sitſellen, * ,
- - - - , , De-
D E
Deláy, z, de vertraging , ver-
ſchaiving, her uitſfel; without
delay, on varwijld.
Dèlicacy, z de lekker'hgid, lek-
kern ij : the sweet poison of de.
1icacies, het zoet verg if der
Jekkerm if sm.
Delicious, by. Kostelijk, heer-
Jijk; a delicious meal, een heer-
lijke naaltijd.
Delight, z. het verma ak,
wreugde, de luff.
to Delight, b. w. ver $/ijdea, vera
He ugen , verrakken ; he delight-
ed his eyes , hij verſus tig de
zijne segen, 2) o. we vermaak
t in den ; he delighted in doing
good, hij y indi zijn vermaak
in weldoem 3 to be de'ighted
with a thing, met is tº img eno-
then zijn, zich daarne de yer
makem.
Delightful, by aanganaam, ge-
moegelijk , verb Jijdand.
de
Delirious, by. krankzimmig.
to Deliver, b. w. bovrijäen, red.
den , 2) overloveren, overge-
wen , over handigen s
as they were delivered
good hands, affel eyerd.
into
Teºverance, z, de beyrijding ,
- redding. -
Deliverer, z. de redder, be vrijder.
to Deláde, b. w. ºn is leiden ;
our poor dellided brother, on-
26 artne verbände , in isle ide
*śroeder.
Demänd, z, de eisch, de vordering.
to Deuland, b. w. vorderen, ei
fehen, verlangen.
to Demolish, b. w. vernielen,
afhreken.
Pºmon, z, een (booze) geost.
H h
as soon
- D. E. S73
to Detrºnstrate, b, w, bewijzen,
be fuígen.
Demonstrátion, z. het bawi; ; ; de-
monstrations of joy, vreugde-
bewijzen, wresgdebeta igingen.
Denial, z. self-denial, zelfver-
Moochening. , sº
Dèntist, z. de fandmeerter.
to Deny, b. w. 100 chemen , tºgen-
Jpreken , 2) weigõ ren.’ * ,
to Depart , o, w, afreizen, ver-
trekken , a) verſche iden ; his
departed soul, zijne afgeſchei-
de ne zic!.
Departure , z. he fiver trak.
to Depéid, b, w, afhangen, 2)
(met upon, on 3 zich op feer
verlater s depend on it, ga.
daar vast op , maak (daarog
faat. -
Dependant, by. afhankelijk.
Deplorable, by, be treurenswaar-
dig. * .
to Depºre, b w. betra aren, be-
we enem, bak/agen.
Department, z. het gedrag.
to Deposite, b, w; moderzetten,
nederleggen. . . . - "...a
to Depréciate, b. w. minachten 2
verich ten ; – oue's merit, fe-
mands verdien fle gering ſchafs'
f 6 ºf , . . . . . . .
Depredation, z, warnieling, yer-
woest fºg. . . . .
* * * ~, - -
to Deprive * b. w. (inst of) Be- “... .
* *
rod perſ,
Dèpth, Z. dédieppe. . . . .
-- 3: k{ . . .
to Depúte, b. w. afraordigan.
Dèputy, z. sen
gezant.
aftewaardīgēe
- º º * - - . * '. . .
to Derive, b, ºw, "affeiden, af:
- || fºam men, afkomen.” , - . .
to Descèad, b, w, en o. w; af.
gag ºf , dalen 3. fiederkomah. . . . . .
to Describe , b, w, ºfthºgyes.
$398-
D E.
Description , z. baſehriyying.
Bèsert, z, de wilder mis, woes-
ºff a s a dreary désert, eene
.* regräge woes tijn.
JDesert, , z, he t verdiends loom ;
now he gets his deserts, ºn a
*** * * h if foon n a 1 r werken.
to Desert, o, ºr, ont loopen , weg-
-čº opeft ver/4 fex. . . .
to Deserve, b. w. verdie men ;
Jºe deserves no compassion, -h if
verdie m i ge ºn medal ijden.
to Design, b. w v0 arme men f zijn,
wil/en , 2 ) (met for) for it is
beftem mem. -
cºign, z, he voorne mem.
#3, sirable... b.v. werſchel jk, ge-
aw en's ſh f. ,
to. Desire, b, w, verlangen, ºveme
ſchen , verzoeken j i desircd
you to stay, ik wen ſchte dwt
g iſ bleefe ik verzocht , u te .
h! iſ yen.
£32 sºre, z. he tº verlengen naar .
ie tº ; the desire of travelling,
her verlangen om te reizen.
Pesirous by. hegee rig 3 desirous
of learning, Jeergierfg. r
to Desist, .o. w, van is tº afziew,
affa tem.
pesolate, by woest, on he woond.
Despair, z. wanhoop.
to Despair, o, w, (ºet. of) wan-
*
hop em.
£o Despise ,
verſma dén,
b. W. Verachton,
to Despond, o. w.wam.hopen, den ||
mood laten zin ken.
#2 spoºdsucy, ,
heid, hopelooshgid. . . .
to Bestinate, b. w. &effe” men,
Eestinátion, z, de beftemming-
&@ £ºstine, b, w. /chikken , &é-
fiermen, wiſdºm,
$)$sting, z,”he mood/pſ.
z, kle in moedig.- .
D I
Dèstitute , hw. tret of, he roofſ
zijn , varff oke ºt. M -
to Destrºy, b. w, vernielen , z)
do ode n, o mºb rangen.
Bestrict on , z. verwoe sting, vers
nº et ig £Ag , 6m dergamg.
Destructive , by. Verwoes tend ,
vernie lend. --
to Betáin, b, w. terughouden,
ophouden; let not me detain you
from , laat in if a mid f we rhinº •
de rem enz.
to Estér, b. w. afſchrikken.
to Detérmine , bºw, befluit ºn , be-
pale m . -
to Detēst, b. w. verſa e if em.
Detëstab'e , b v. werfoe if elijk, af.
ſch wive lijk.
to Déviai.e., o. we van dem reg ten
weg afwijken.
Deviátion , z, afwif king , veriwij-
dering.
to Devºte ,
* if dem.
b. w. ovijdsm, toe-
Devětion , z. aandacht , cerbied,
wroom he id.
to Devěur, b. w. verſ/indem.
Devotitly, buy. Gandachtig, y room,
Dew, z, dc daauw,
Dixtérity, z. de Behemdigheid,
he kiva am heid. -
Dèxterous, by hchendig, he kwaam.
“Dialogue, z, her geſprek, de za-
men praak, tweeſp raak-
Diamond , z. de diarrant.
Dick, , varkarting van den wagº
- Richard. -
Didº, o. t. van to Bo.
to Die, c. w. ferven ; to die of
age, was ovde raom ſerven.
Dier, z. eem verwer.
o Differ, o. wa verſchillen, ver-
ſcheißen zijn, 2) van eens an’
dere meening zijn,
Bºf-
a
D. T.,
Diſference, z. het onderſcheid ,
verſchil.
Dłºferent, by verſ: hillend, on-
darſcheiden x (w.e. f from). -
Difficult, by, as oeijelijk, bezwaar-
lijk. . - -
Difficulty, z, moeijelijkheid, 2)
verlegenheid,
piffidence, Z. Want roºt'en.
to Diffise , b, w, verſareidem
yer breiden.
te Dig, b. we s is o. we grave m ;
to dig up, opgraven ; to dig
out, uitgraven ; to dig the
ground, dºn grong graven.-
Digging, z, her graven.
Dignity, z, waardigheid 3 he be"
haved with the greatest dignity,
hiſ gedroeg. zich met de groot-
fe waardighaid, 2) my, eer-
amb ten , waardigheden.
to Dilāte , o, w; zich mitze tren;
f, how his heart dilated I hoc
verb/ijd was zijn hart |
Djigence 2 z iſ ver, naarſig- ||
tation , to laur gefield worđe m.
heid, whijt. -
D\m, by, duister; by the din
light, bij het Zwakka licht.
to Diminish ; b. w. Verm in derent,
minder maken s 2) o. wa ver-
an inde rem , minder warden.
Qiminution , z, de vermindering:
Dinly, by. du is ter. * *
to Dine, o. we te middag ſpij-
zen, etc.m. ; if he would dine
with him, of hiſ bij hern wil-
de stem.
Dinner, z. hat middagmaal , to
eat one’s dinner, Sijn middag-
*aal houden.
Dint, z, kracht, permogen ; by-
*int of patience, door gedald,
* Dip, b, w, do open; foppen.
Pipt, dw, an o. t. yan to Dip.
* Direct, b, w, rigten ; to direct
FI h 2
E) f 375
one’s course", furen , 2) lefk
den, ſchikken ; the all directing
father of mankind, de albeheer-
ſchende wader der menſchen, 3)
briey en adresſeren ; letters di.
rected for Barbados, naar Bar-
badoſ beftesda brie verſ.
Direction , z. de rigting , 2) in s'
rigting, beftu ur, yoorſchrift ;
according to his direction, yo:*
gens zijn voorſchrift.
Directly, by; regtſfreeks, 2) ter'.
fond , on middellijk: , or ver-
wif I'd sº you may directly begin',
g if k unt terſfond beginnem,
Diréetor r z. de laider, beftu ur:
de r , regeerder.
to Disable, b, w; verz wakke is ,-
krachte loos, on be kwaa in make n .
Disagreable, by, ona angen aarn.
to Disappéar, o, w, verdwijnen,
onzi ch's baar worden. -
to Disappéint, b: w, is mands hoop'
verifdalen, te lear fell an ; to
be disappointed in one’s expec-
Disappointment, z. teleurſ?elling;
de verijdehde hoop. . . . .
to Disappréve , b, w, laken , af.
keuren.”
to Discèrn, b, w, onderſche ideº,
2) inzian ; to discern the rea
son, der reden inzien. . . . .
to Discharge, b. w. losſºn, ont-
laden , z) af/chie ten ; to dis-
charge a pistol, een p is tool af-
f:hic ten. * * - - - - -
Discontent , z, de ontevredenheid,
onvergen oegdheid. '
to Discover, b. w. on tdekken,
Discovery, z. dé on dekking.
3. *
to Discºurage be w. ſprekan, ess
mondgeſprek houden.
Discourse, z. het geſprek.
to
f
376 D I
to Discòurse, b. w, ſprekee 2 & 3 ſº
mondgeſprek houdan.
Piscréet, by voorzigtig, baſkhej-
den. . . - -
Piséase, z. ziekte, kwaal, onge-
mak. ",
to Disencúmber, b. w. van ists
**wrifden, on slasten, sit den
weg rai men.
to Disengáge , b, w, beyrijden,
!os maken, on thin des.
Pish, z. eeme ſchotel, eene kop; 1.
a dish of tea, een kopje thee,
2) een geregt (bij den maal-
t iſ d). t
Dishärmony, z. een avangeluid,
‘wank lank; a dismal disharmony,
een jammer/ijk geluid, een
jam merlijk tº is baar.
i>}smal, by ſchrikkelijk , treu.
rig , droevig.
Dismáy, z. me a de loorheid.
Dismáyed, dw, moedeloof, klein-
mos dig. .
Disorder, z. wanorde, varwar-
ring.
Dispair, zia Despair.
Dispatch, z. ſpoed, ſhelheid, ook
Despatch. " -
to Dispatch, b. w. verzenden, af.
zen den, 2) maar do andere we-
reld zenden, afmaken ; to dis-
patch the savage , dem wilde van
kant maken , hem de rest geven
to Dispèl , b, w, verdrij van, war-
ffrooijen ; to dispel a doubt,
eene twijfeling wegrai men.
to Dispèrse, b. w. verfro oijen,
2) o. w. zich verliezen : they
dispersed in the woods, zij wer.
ſpreidden zich in het Bosch ;
the héat disperses, de hitte
freem tº of. - -
to Display, b, w, uit een zetten,
verſpreiden, ten to ºn ſpreiden
, D i
Disposal, z. de ſchikking , orde.
to Dispése, b. w. be ſchikken :
dispose of me, when you think
fit, beſchik over mij zoo als
het & belieft; to dispóse of
one’s property, oyer zijn sis
gendom &eſchikken.
Dispásed, by. en dw, geſchikt ;
well disposed, in semen ge-
fºhikten laim. l
Disposition , z. in rigting, ſchik-
king; the dispositions of divine
providence, de ſchikkingen der
goddelijke voorzien igheid.
* Displite, z. de frijd, twist, re-
detwist , one emigheid. t
to Dispute, b. w. betwistem 3 no-
body will dispute me the right,
mia mand zal mij het regt be-
twis ten. -
Dissatisfaction, z. onvergenoegd-
heid, ontevredenheid.
Dissolūtion, z, ontbinding ,
10 ſºng.
Distance, z, affand; at a distan"
ce, yam warré. -
Distant, by, yerqvijdard.
ops
Distèmper, z. ligchaanskwaa)",
ziakte.
Distinct , by. werfthsiden, on-
derſcheider.
Distinction, z, onderſcheidenheid,
verſchil.
Distinctly, by. onderſtheidenlijk,
klaar, duidelijk. -
to Distinguish, b. w. onderſchei-
dem.
Distinguished, by, enderſcheiden,
dw. -
Distracted, by. anzimmig, dol.
Distrèss , z. ong cluk , ellen de ,
mood; a ship is in distress, can
fºh iſ is in mood ; the signal
of distress, he tº teeken van
mood. - . .
Dis-
D O
Distressed, dw: a distressed ship,
een ſchip in nood, c en ver on-
gelukt ſchip. - -
Distrèssful, bv. ongelukkig , el-
lendig.
to Distürb , b. w. var on t rust en ,
ſtoren , 2) bedroeven, droef-
heid, verdriet aandoen.
Ditch, z. e ene gracht, ſloot,
to DHve , o.. w. duiken, onder-
duiken.
Divers, bv. e enige, verſcheidene
(verouderd woord).
Diverse , bv. om de r/cke iden, ver
ſcheiden.
Divèrsiou, z. verſtrooijing, uit-
ſpanning, vervrolijk ing.
to Divèrt, b. w. verſtrooi je n ; to
divert one's grief, zijn leed
verſtro oijen, verbannen, zich
den tijd -korten ; to divert one's
self with a thing, zich met iets
vermaken. -
to Divide, b. w. de elen. -
Divine, bv. goddelijk : Divine Pro-
vidence, de Goddelijke Voorzie -
nigheid.
Division, z. de deeling ,
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.. w. va-
ren, zich bevinden ; how do
you do?' hoe vaart gij, hoe is
het met u ºve gezondheid ? 3)
de ugen , die mſtig zijn; it would
have done, het had knnnen die-
nen, geſchieden, 4) men zal
overigens nog onderſcheidene
Jſpreekwijzen met het werk w.
Do vinden ; do not let it be
too mournful, laat het niet al
16 akelig worden , I don't know,
verde e-
-º-
F. .
D. O 377
ik weet niet , ook in plaats
van vorige werkwoorden te her-
halen, als : did not you say
so? yes I did, s) to do without
a thing, iets misſen, ontberen;
he did not know what to do with
himself, hij wist niet wat hij
zou beginnen. -
to Dóat, Döte, b. w. (met upon
of on), op ists verlekkerd
zijn, met iets ingenomen zijn,
iets buitenſporiglijk bemin-
men; they doated on him to ex-
cess, zij hadden hem al te lief.
Dog, z. de hónd.
- ºv-
Dóing, dw. van to Do , 2) als
z. mv. daden, all their doings,
al wat zij verrigten, wat zij
deen. , . . . . . . . .
Döll, z. e ene pop. -
Döllar, z. een daalder. . . . . .
Domèstick, Domèstical, bv. huſs-
ſelijk, 2) tam; domestick ani-
• mals, tamme dieren. -
Dominion, zº het gebied, de heer-
ſchappij. -. . v. *
Döne, dw• van to do, to have
done with a thing, inst iets ge-
- reed zijn ; · done again:3; reeds
weder voorbij? Done! als tas-
ſchennv. Fiat ! # . . . .
Don't, zamentrekking van Do ſlO te
Doór, z. de de ur; to run out of
doors, de deur uit loopen , uit
het huis loopen ; without doors,
buitenshuis. . . . . . . . .
Dormant, bv. ſluimerend, rustend,
ſtil. ,'
Double , bv. s n bw. dubbel, twee-
voudig, double teeth, kinns
bakstanden, kiezen. ,, ',
to Double, b. w. verdubbelen.
to Do Abt, o.. w. twijfelen. Gaan
iets ). - - - ; ; ; ;
Doubt, z. de twijfel, de twijfe-
H h 3
- v.
Hij g 5
378 D R
Jing; I make no doubt of it,
#8, twijfel er niet aan; no
doubt, zonder twijfel, a) be-
ſuiteloosheid, bedenkelijkheid,
_3). Wrees, bez orgaheid, zorg.
Poſſibtful, by twijfelachsig, on-
aekºr 3. in doubtful cases, in
*wijfelach tige gava/Jem 5 - a
doubtful voice, eans onzekare,
... wankelemde ſtem.
Pough , , z. Cuitgeſpr. als doo),
. . her deeg.
Déwn, vz. en bow. reder, af; to
fall down, made rvallen, vallen;
to go down the hill, den barg
ef#aan 5 he wrote it down, hiſ
fehreef her op.
Dównwards, by. mederwaarts.
Dózen, z. een dozijn.
to Drag , b. we trekken, ſepan.
Drank, o. t. van to Drink.
Draught , (uitgeſºr. als Draaft),
z. ean ſlok, teug, dronk; he
drank a cold draught, hij dronk
eenen koudan reug , a] sen
drank.
to Draw, b. w. trekken ; to draw
breath, adem halan, 2) uit-
trekken s to draw a tooth, ee-
sen tand uit trekken, 3) ſthrif.
telijke opſiellen ; the condition
he drew up, de voorwaarden
welke hij op/threef, 3) o. w.
made ren i night drew on, he t
overd macht : it draws near its
end, he f loopt ten einde.
Drávbridge, z, een ophaalbrag.
Drăwing, z. oene teekening.
to Dièad, b. 'w. en o. w. fets
vreezen, duchten, van ièrs
fehrikken. .
Dreadful, by. ſchrikkelijk , if t- dorff ig , 2) dor, zon der ſap ;
* * ſtrijk. - the cow became dry, de ko 4
Dreadfully , by, ſºhrikkelijk , yer loor hare ºn elk.
wreasſe/ijk. . . . to Dry, o, w, drops words"
D R
Dréam, z, een droom.
to Dréam, o. we droomen.
Dréamer, z. de droomer. -
Drežry, by ſchrikkelijk, akelig,
a dreary desert, eene akeligé
wildern is.
to Dress, b. w. kleedan, to gijen,
ſeren, 2) toabare iden ; well
dressed meat , wel toebe reid
wheesch ; to dress skins, huides
foeb ere iden.
Dréw, o. t... yam to Draw.
to Drink, bl w eno. widrinken.
Drink, Z. de drank , 2) het drin-
kem.
Drinkable , by. drinkbaar.
Drinking, z, het drinken.
to Drive, b. we drijven, ºdor t-
drijven, j agen. -
Driven, dw, yam to Drive; 2) as
a driven snow, als wersch ge-
vallen ſneeuw.
Drop, z, de droppel ; a drop of
blood, een droppel bloºds.
to Drop, o. w. droppelen , 2) val-
len, medervallen ; the knife
dropt from his hand, het mes
viel uit zijne hand; 3) b. we
to drop a project, een voorn 8-
men laten waren.
Dropping sweat , z. een droppe-
lend zwée few.
Drôve, o. t. van to Drive.
to Drown, o. we en b. W. ver-
drinken, ºr enken. -
Druin, z, de from , de from ms ( ;
the druin was beaten , de trow,
werd geſ/agen.
Drunk, dw. van to Drink.
Dry , by. droog, dry land, he #
drooge ; he t drooge and , 2)
guit *
p U i
aitároogen, droogen, 2) b. w.
droogen, droog makem 3 to dry
up , airdroogen , opdroogen.
Dúe, by. behoorlijk , billijk :
in due time,
in due form, in behoorlijken
3) of 77.
Dug, dw. an o. t. van to Dig.
D4}y, by. behoorlijk 2 billijk.
Bümb, by. ſºom. -
Dún, by van den kastanjeboom.
Dunce, z. een domoor.
to Diing, b. w. snisten, het land
fº 0.5 ! 6/7,
E. A
Each , (voornaamw.), elk, ieder;
each other, elkander.
Eager, by. begee rig , verlanger d,
if we rig 5 eager of learning, Jeer-
graag , 2) he wig , driftig , yu-
yig ; an eager desire, een wa-
rig 'yer langen.
Eagerly, by. begee rig , variglijk.
Ear, z. het oor, 3) een aar,
ko ornaar.
Early, by. on bºw. vroeg, vroeg-
fiftig 5 vergel, trap , earlier,
Syers ref. trap, earliest.
Earnest, by, ernftig ; the earnest
resolution, het ya ste, erºff ige,
befluit.
Earnest, z. de erm ºf.
Earnestly , by, met ernst , in
& f" ºf fe 't
Earnestness, z. arnſfigheid, if yer,
drift,
Barth, E. de aarde; potters earth,
Pottebakkers aarde , 2) de
aardbol.
**then, by, van aarde; earthen
Ware, pots, aarde wºrk.
A.
tergoeder unr 5
D Y
Dúnghill, z. een mirrhoop.
Dúring, v2. (dw. van to Dure),
ge darende, terwij}. -
Dürst, o. 1. van to Dare.
Düsk, z. de avondſchemering.
Düst, z. het ſtafs gold dusts
go udſºof. .
Dútiful, by. gehoorzaam 2)eers .
biedig. -
Dúty, z. de pligr.
to Dwell, e. w. women.
Dwelling, z. de woning.
to Dye, zie to Dié.
Dyer, zie Diér.
f
379
º
E A
| Earthly . bv. aardsch.
| Earthquake , z. eene aardhewings
Ease, z. de rust, 2) welfand ,
3) gemakkelijkheid 5 at his ease,
op zijn gemak, 4) onged won-
he id; they suckled at their ease,
zij zogen zoo yea l hun lus tre.
to Ease , b we werligten, 2) be-
w redigen, ger as t fellen; to
ease one’s self, zich gerust fai-
Jen: , 3) uit rustem , laten uits
rusten ; to case one’s limbs ,
zijn ligahaam laten rurfen.
Easily, bw. ligf, gamakkelijk,
zonde r moeira.
East , z. het 0 osten s east indies,
Oaj findir n.
Easterly, by. oostelijk; easterly
winds , o ostelijke winden.
Eastern, by. o ostelijk; the ease
tern horizon, de oostelijke ges
zigteinder. -
Easy, by gemakkelijk , 2) ge-
rust, veilig 5 to make one’s
mind easy, zich gernst ſ; elſea,
3) gemakkelijk ings rigº.
H h 4 £0
38o ET,
to Eat , o, wi em b. w; a fen,
Estable by. eet baar.
Eatable, z. eatables my. 6 ºf wa-
ré n > 13 yef's middele m.
Eater, z. eter; a man-èater, een.
menſch emeter.
Eating, z. het etem.’
Rºbb, &, de-tbb.c. W
to Ebb", o, . we ebben ; when it
ebbs, wanneer de ebbe begint.
Echo, Z. de écho, we'er klank.
to Echo, O. w. ter's gkaatzen.
to Educate , b. we op'voedan.
Education, z, opy oading.
E’en in plaats van Even, zelf; ,
die ver; so l’ll e'en "pass over
this passage, dan wił ik dit
Jiayer overſlaam.
Effect, z, he ui twerkſe!, he t
ge volg, de Werking. .
to . Effect, b. w. ten uity oer bran.
gen, in averking brangen.
Efféminate, by verwiſfa, weeke-
lijk; laf.
to” Efféminate ; by wi weeke! #k
maker, 2 vers ro et ejem. r
Ufficécious, by, warkda dig, krath t-
t dadig. -
Effort, - zºº poging"; to use all ef.
- forts, , alle, pogingen aan wen-
den, alles in het werk fellen.
Egg, z. eam di.' .
Eight, by acht (in geta}); at
eight o’clock, ten a cht uren.
Eighteen , by. a chº ºf em.
Eighteenth, by, de a chrtistrae.
Eighth, by, de 4 ch ſte.
Eighty, by tachtig.
Eilet hole, oilet hole, 2, het
rijggat. {
Either, (voornaamw.), een van
be ide, ieder, elk.
Either, (voegw.) of, her zif.
to Elapse, o. we verloopén.
Elastick, by, yeerkrächtig.
E. M.
Elbow, z, de'elleb cog.
Eldest, overtreff, trap van old,
de oudſ: e.
Eleméntal , by. uit de eerſta
grondbeg imſels beſt aam de ; ele-
mental knowledge, eerſte be-
ginſelf, earſte kundighedem,
Elevated.; by, em dw. an elevated
ground; ean verheyen grond,
ecne hoogte , een hauys!.
Eleven , by: e1}.
Elèventh, by. de elfde.
Eligible, by. Verkies lijk , yºre"
... kiesba ar.
Eli, z, de' ef.
Elde', (wdornaamw.), anders ; no-
body else , nie mand anders.
Else, by. andars.
Elsewhere, bw, ergens anders.
Em , zament rakking van Them.
to Embark, b, w, in ſchepen, aan
boord brengen ; ; ) or w. zich
inſchepen , aan ‘boord gaan.
Embassador; Z. de gezan f , afge'
24 ºf .
to Embèllish , o, wi en b, w”
fruaijer worden, -2} fraai"
jer maken, werfraaijen.
Eabèllishment, z. ºverfraaijing.
Embers , z. m.w.. gloeij ande a sch.”
to Embitter, b. w. yorbit re ren. )
to Embrácer; by w. on armen ;
omvat tem; om helzen, 2) aars”
me thes. 3 to embrace a belief,
een gelo of aan me men.
Embráce, z. de 0 m.helzing.
Etnbråsure, z. het ſchjetga; * if:
e ene muw r. -
Eminence, z. ean he uyel, eene
boog tes -
Emotion,--z, he vige aando 6 ming ;
gemoedsbeweging.
Empire, z. het rijk, de ſtaar.
to Emplóy, b, w, gebraiken, aan”
wonden ; 2) to be employed
bes
E. N.
bezig zijn ; the ships employed
in the codfishery, de ſchepen
die to t de kabeljaauw.yangst
ge bruikt wordem.
Employment, z. da bezigheid, de
tifákorting , 2) het ambt.
Empty, by, ledig.
Emulation , z. maijver, eer zucht.
to Enable , b, w. in ſtaat ſhellen,
bekºva am maken.
to Enchant, b. w, bet coveren : ,
the enchanted potion, de too-
verdrank.
to Enclose , b. w, inſluiten, in-
perkem. *
Enclésure , 2. de cºm heining.
to Encompass, b, w, inſlui tem. ,
beperken, bepalem.
to Eucóunter, b. w. te gemoer
gaan, ontmoeten, 2) aanwallen
to Encourage , b. we aan moe.di-
ge h . w
Encouragement, z. de aan moedi-
ging.
to Encréase, b. w. em. o. w. ver-
meerderan , aaawasſen ; the
water encreased , he f water
º!/4! fee Q
Eneréase, z, de vermeerdering,
was dom.
Bad, z, her einde ; to put an end
to a thing , een einde aan ists
maken , 2) he t doel, oog merk,
voornemen, 3) beftemming ; to
answer this end, on aan dit
*inde te bean two orden; 4) on
end, overeind, your hair will
stand on end, wwe haren zul.
Fen tº berge rijzen.
to Bud, b. w. eindigen, ten ein-
de bremgen, 2) o. we ten ein-
do loopen , 3) ophowden met
fºreken; here the father ended,
hier zweeg de vader.
to Endear, b, w, be mind maken.
#
*
H h 5
E N 33r
Endéaring, dw. endéaring carès-
ses, tee dere liefkozingen.
Endeavour, z. de poging , her
fºreven ; to do one’s endeavours.
pogen. d
to Endeavour, b. w.pogen, track"
ten, 2) be prodyen.
Endless, by... eindeloof, one indie
to Endow, b. w. begiftigen , be"
gaven, beſthenken; endowed
with reason, met reden Ber
£aafd.
to Endure, b. w. verdaren, da!"
den.
Enervated, dw. ontzenswa , wer"
zºvakſ. .*
Enemy, z. een vijand.
to Enféeble, b. w. verzwakken s.
kraich feloos make n.
to Engáge, b. w. verbindem, yeſ"'
pºigten, 2) aanſporem.
Engégement, z. gave chir.
English , by. engelsch 5 mv. thº’
º
*
english, de engelſchen.
to Engráve, b. w. grayerem,
to Enhance, b. we've rhoogers, des.
prij; ; de was rād verhoogan.
to Enjoy, b, w; genieten.
Enjoyment, z. genot, vermaak,
to Enlarge, b, w, . werg reotem, sº
suit bre idén.
to Enlist, b. we werver 5 he got
himself enlisted, hiſ nam dienste-
to Enlighten , b, we werlichtens
Enough , by genoeg : there is
room enough , daar if plaats-
gen 0&g.
to Enquire, b. w. maar vragem s
verne men ; to enquire after one,
naar iemand vernemen.
to Euräge, b. w. to ornigº makem,
vertoormen , vergram memº, bogs.
staken.
to Ensuſe, o, w, volgen 5 a silene
CG
382 E Q
ce ensued, hiar voied, ean ºil-
2 wifeen.
to Entangle, b. w. verwarren ;
the hairs were entangled, de ha-
ren waren vernward. f
to Enter, b. w. binnen komen,
in reden; to enter the atlantick
ocean , in de at anti, che zee
waren $ 23) o, w. (met. into),
they entered into open sea, zij
Rwamen fin volje. zee.
Enterred, inter:ed en intëred, dw...!
à è graven.
to Entertàin , b, w, onderhoudan,
*e ſprekem bezig hoaden, met
fbifzen on thalem.
Entertainment, z, onderhouding,
zie to Entertain.
E:tire, by, geheel, gan sch.
Betirely , bºw. gehee Ilijk.
to Entitle, by, geregrigen.
Entrails, z. mv. hee ingewand.
Entrance, z, de in trade, 2) de
an gang.
to Entréat, b, w, verzoeken, ſºns-
... ken.- |
Entréaty;.2, ſneaking.
to Entrüst, b. we toeyer trouwen,
(ook intrust).
Bpidèinic, by. heerſchend, (heer-
ſchonda ziekie).
Equal 2 by, gelijk, gelijk vormig3
of equal length, van gelijke
lºngte , 2) billijk.
Equally, by... even zoo, gelijke-
lijk, in gelijks. -
Equanimity, z, gelijkheid van
ge moodsg offe Jaheid.
Equinox, z. de machte vening.
to Equip, b. we aitrusten, met
het mood jge voorzion.
Mºquipage, z, dc witnasting, klee-
ding ; the odd equipage, do won-
desliike...opſchik.
E V.
Equitable, by. billijk ; equitible'
laws , regtyaardige wet tem.
to Eièct, b. w. op rigten.
Erèce, by rest op 5 to stand erect,
overe ind fa an .
Error, z. de dwaling; to be in
an error, dovalem.
Erüption, z, de uit barſ?ing.
to Escápe , b, we omit gaan 2 on t-
du i ken ; – a danger, een ge-
vaar on tºo men ; to escape deaths
dº nº do od on tº a an 5 O. we on t-
ſnappen , y Jug ten , de Vlasgº
f; 8 ºf 6 ſ.
Escápe, z. de vlugt 3 to make
one’s escăpe, her hazenpad kid-
zen , de y! ug tº nemen.
Espécially, buy, yoornamelijk; in-
zonderheid. r
to Espy, b, w, on tdekken , ge"
waar worden, 2), beſpisden.
Essay, z, de pro e ve.
Essèntial, ºbv. wezemlijk.
to Establish, b, w. vestigen , is ºr
ſtellen , bepaign.
Establishment, z. de in rigting a
ſthikki mg.
Esteem, z, de athting.
to Esteem, b, w. hoogachten.
Estimable, by. achienswaardiga
to Estimate , b, w; ſchatºsh sº
waardaren.
Estimate, z. ſchatting , waarde-
ring , stakſa ring.
Etèrnal, by, equavig . .
Eternally, by, eeswig, in eas".
wig heid.
Even, by, effen, glad , gelijk sº
on even ground, op effen grond-
to Even, b, w. -effen makem 3 g6°
lijk makes.
Even, 6'en, bºw. zelf; ; even then,
even at that time, jai; t in dias
fijd.
Evening, z, de ayond. -
E-
‘E X
Erent, z. de aft komst, de tuitſlag.
Ever, by. oo it, 2) altijd for
ever, wo or eo a wig 5. 3) ever sm
short, hoe korf ook ; ever so
little, hoe weinig eak.
Everlasting, by. eat, wigd a rend.
Every, (voornaamw.) elk, je der;
every one, i.e der een ; 2) cwery
-where, overal.
Evil, ill, ºbv. en by ſlecht : it
must be done by evil means, list
mo et do or booze middelen ge-
ſchic dan; dat is ºnser dam
reg f tºft. . . .
Evil, z, het 'kwaad.
Eurbpean, by, e uropeaan ſch, 2)
z, sem e a ropeaam.
Exact, by. maauwke urig.
Exactly, buſ. maa utyke a rigſijk.
Exactness, z, ºn a sunwke tº righeid.
Examination, z. het on derzcek.
to Exhim ine, b. w. onderzoekem.
Example, z. een voorbea/d.
to ‘Excéed, b. 'w, overſch reden.
Excéeding, dw. uitme mend ; ex-
ceeding high , zęer hoog.
Excéedingly, bºw, enge meen.
Excellence , z. voortreſſelijkheid.
Excellent, by, yoort refe Jijk.
Excellently, buy. voort refelijk.
to Except , b w. wit zonderer.
Excépt , excepted, dw. uirgemo-
77; 6 ſ; ,
Exception, z. ºe aftzondering.
Bxcess, z, de buitenſporigheid;
w
to love one to sach an excess , ,
jemand zoo on matig be minnen,
2) on mat igheid.
Excessive, by. on ratig, fruiten.
fºoris, overdraven. .
Bxcessively, by buitenſporiglijk
to Excite, b. w. verwekken, op-
wekken. " .. -
***clude , b, w, uitſ uites.
h
| Expeditiously ,
*clamátion , z, witroeping.
E x
Exclusive, by uttgenomen, bui-
tes ; exclusive of — ,
zon dering van –, -
Excursion , z. ſtrooping, was do-
ling.
to Excise, b. w. verontſchuldigens
Excise , z. eene were n tſchuldi-
ging. -
to Execute , b, w. ui tosſemen,
tuit voe ren.
Exeºti.ion, z. de ui to be ring; ‘te
put in execution, in werking
brengen , ten sirvoer brengen.
te Exémpt, b w beyrijden, wrij-
/preken, uitzomde ren.
Exercise , z. oefening ; bodily
exercises , Pig chaams cefan ingen
to Exercise, b. w. oefs mem.
to Exért, b. w. vojbrengen , 2}
in ſpannen.
Exèrtion, z. tuitoefening,
ſpanning (van kracht &n).
Exh: lätion, z. de uit waſeming ,
mv, de dampen , t it waſe in ingen.
to Exhales o. we witvaſemes ,
sit da ºn be m. -
to Exhatist , b, w, wi ºptºtten.
to Exhërt, b. 'w, aan manen, were
77; d. Zºe ºf .
Exhortátion, z. de vermaning.
to Exist , b, w. beffaan , voor-
handem zijn.
Existence, z. het beftasm ,
, daar zijn. -
to Expéct , b, w, verwach ten.
Expectávion, 2. de verwachting,
2) he f uitzigt de hoop.
Expédient, by. m at tig., he ilza 3 m.
Expédient, z, een geſchikt middel.
Expedition, z, de ſpo ed., haast.
Expeditious, by, ſporaig, ſnel,
vlºg.
hat
bw, ſhel, swet
fuelheid. - - -
Expence , expense, z. uitgave
kºf-
383
anet itäte
384 E X
% often ; I will pay your expen-
ces, ik zal a vrij houden; at
the expence of others, op an-
ders kosten ; do not put your-
self to any expence, maak gee-
ms, onkosten, west on bezorgd ,
:/paar a de mosite.
Expérience , z. on dervinding ;
By his own experience, door
zijne eigene cmdervinding.
to Expérieuce, b. w. on dery in-
den , door ondery inding we tem. .
Fxpériment, z. de proºf, de on-
<de rvinding.
Expirātion, z, het verloop, her
•e inde van een igen tijd.
to Expire, o, w. den gees f ge-
yan , overlijden , ſervan 2}
ten ein da 10 open , we r100pen
(van rijd), werfºr ifken.
zo FXpláin , b, w, verklaren, op-
he ideren. *
£xplanātion, z. verklaring , op-
heldering.
20 Explore, b. we ui tºwerſchem .
omderzoeken. -
Fxplosion, z, w it barſ?ing.
to Expóse, b. w. b loot fellen :
to be exposed on an island , op
•em e i land bloof gefeld, 2)
aan gevaar blost ſellen j to
expose to danger , to expose-
one’s life , zijn Juven in de
E X
to Express, b. w, uit drukken,
aan dam, dag Jaggen.
Exprèssion, z. de uirãrukking.
Exprèssive , by. uit drukkelijk,
be teckenings vol. -
Exquisite, bºw. voor treffelijk, uit.
gela zen , heerlijk.
Extasy, z, verrakking.
to Ext&nd , o, w. zich tº itſ rek.
ken, 2) b. w. verbreiden, uit-
breidem : 3 spider had extended
her web , eene ſpin had haar
web uitgeſpand.
Exténsive, by. witgeftrek: ; an
extensive circle, een wift de ffrkel.
to Extingnish, b. w. dempen ,
blus ſche n, felpen.
Extrebrdinary, by... buitenge two on,
on gem: een.
| Extravagantly, by, butten ſporig.
Extravagant , by. overdreven.
Ext: Öme, by. her laatſfe, he t wi-
rerſ?e.
xtrêmity, z, he uiterſfe, her
ai terfe e inde. - *
to Extricate, b. w. to extricate
one’s self, zich 6 r u if draai,
jº n, a r u is redden. *
to Extilt , o, w, zish verbhijden,
wrolijk zijn.
Eye, z. het oog ; to cast one’s eyes
down, de 0 ogon mederſtaan.
waagſchaal fellen.
F A
Fáble, z. eane febel, aez, were
dicht ſel.
F A
F.'ce , 2. het gezig f ; he f aange
zig t-
to Fáce, b, w, teger, overſiaan ;
to face a danger, een gºyaarl
tror/aren ; to fice the énemy,
den vij and her hoofd biaden.
to Facilitate ; b. w. verlig ten-
Facility, z, de gemakkelijkheid.
‘Fact, z- de dagd; in fact, wer"
ke Jijk.
FA's
F A
Faculty, z. het vermogen van iets
te doen, de bekwaamheid, ziels-
kracht, voornamelijk in het
mv. faculties, zielsvermogens.
to Fäde, o w. verwelken , ver-
g4 a 5 »
to F il , o.. w. misſlaan, feil
gaan ; 2) b. w. in gebreke blij-
3 en 5 I will not fáil, ik zal
niet in gebreke blijven.
F&#n , bv. gaarn. --
to Fåint, o.. w. en mag tig wor-
den , in on mag t vallen, he
fainted away , hij viel in on-
mag t .
S (int, bv. kracht c/oos ,
ſtaatsw-
Fáintness, z. on magt, ſtaauwte.
Fáir, bv. ſchoon, 2) gun fig;
the wind is fair , de wind is
ganſfig, 3) zacht , zachtmoe-
dig , by fair méans, goedſchiks,
in der minne.
Faith, z het godsdienſtig geloof,
zwak ,
geloofsbelijdenis, 2) de trouw, .
gé t're ti whe iA.
Faithful , bv. trouw, getrouw,
faithful to his resolution, over-
eenkomſtig met zijn", beſluit,
a faithful maid-servant, eene
tro & we dienst me id; the faith-
ful dog, de trouwe hond.
Faithfully , bw. getrouwelijk ,
naauwkeurig, naa unvgezet.
to Fall, o.. w. vallen, nederval-
len , he fell from the tree, hij
viel van des boom , 2) i avJsei-
fen, invallen (van rivieren ),
wliere the Elb falls into the
sea, waar zich de Elbe in de
zee eitſfort , s) in eenigen
toeſtand geraken, beware of
àlling sick, draag zorg niet
ziek te worden, to fall into
great misery, tot groots etten-
I i
F A 385
de vervallen ; to fall into a
Passion, in drift geraken, tot
fall into a swoon, in on mag t
vallen s to fall asleep, in ſlaap
vallen , to fall in with one, is-
mand ontmoeten, aantreffen,
4) op iets aanvallen, het mer
ijver aan vangen, he fella work-
ing, hij zette zich aan het
werk, the dog fell a barking ,
de hond begon hevig te btaf-
fen , 5) vervallen aan iemand,
zijn deel worden ; it falls to
the share of the lord of the
country , het kerst den lands-
heer toe. v . . .
Fàll, z. de val ; 2) at nightfall,
tegen het vallen van den nacht,
False , bv. valsch. w
Familiar, bv. huisſelijk, 2) ver-
tro a wd , vertrouwelijk, gs-
# 86 % Ea (g &#, i«
Familiarity, z. gemeenzaamheids
an air of familiarity, een ver-
trouwelijk voorkomen.
Family, z. huisgezin, the father
and mother of the family, de
vader en moeder van het huis-
gezirs. -
F*inished, bv. eigent. dw. van to
Famish, uitgehongerd.
Faney, z. de verbeelding, ver.
beeldingskracht, 2) de inval,
he took a fancy, hij kwam 63
de gedachte. w r
to Fàncy , o.. w. zich inbeelden,
b. w. to fancy one's self in 4-
nother one's place, zich ver-
beelden in iemands plaats te
zijn. ,, - . . . .
Fàng , ze wortel ; teeth with long
fangs, tanden met lange wor-
f8 is. . . . . . . . . . .
Fantàstiek, bv. ingebeeld , gril- &
lig , zonderling,
«Ik
336 F A
Far, bw, en bv. ver, afgelegen,
wij d; the day was far advat."
ced, de dag was reeds groo-
t a n de els ver ! 0 op g n .
to Fáre, o, w. var on , ſlagen ;
this time he fared better, deze
reis gelukte het hem beter-
Farewèl, fare well, gebieden de
vijs van to fare well, vaarwel.
Farewèl , z. het afſcheid, het
vaarwel ; he took his last fare-
wel, hij nam zijn laatſte afs
ſchs id.
Farmer, z. hooyenaar, pachter,
laza dman.
Earther, vergel, trap van Fa' ,
verder.
Farthest, over treffende trap van
Far, verst ; at farthest, op het
hoogſte.
to Fast, b. w. vasten, zich van
ſpijzen onthouden.
Fast, z. het vasten , nuchter
blijven, breakfast, het ontbijt
Fast, bv. en bw, vast ; to be
faat asleep , vast in ſlaap zij 7.
FAst, bv. ſchielijk , as fast as
they could , zoo ſchielijk als
tij kon dºen,
to Fàsten, b. w. va: F maken, be-
vestigen, I will fasten (ſix)
the map against the tree , ik
zal de landkaart aan den boom
hangen , 2) vast ſluiten , digt
ſluiten, 3) vestigen 5 to fasten
one's eyes upon a thing, zijn ?
oog en op iets vestigen.
Fasting, z. het vast en ; how do
you like fasting? hoe vindt gij
het vasten, hoe bevalt u het
vast en ?
Fat, bv. vet, z. he t vet-
Fatal, bv. noodlottig, ongeluk'
kig, gevaarlijk.
Fäte, z. het noodlot-
t F E
Fà her, z. de vader ; ' the father
of the family, de vader van het
huisgezin.
Fatherly , bv. vaderlijk.
Fathom , z, de vaden, maat van
Z6 5 19.0 e ſ..8 ft,
Fat) gue , z. de vermoeijen is, 1'er.
moeidheid, 2 ) zware arbeid.
to Fat) gue, b. w. verm oeij en ;
they were greatly fatigue d, zij
waren ze er vermoeid.
Fault, z. de ſchuld , de fout, de
n sflag ; it was nut his fault ,
het was zijne ſchuld niet , 2)
het gebrek ; for fault of fire,
bij gebrek aan vuur.
Fàulty , bv. gebrekkig,
to Favour, b. w. gunſtig zijn,
begunſtigen ; if font une favours
us ever so little, indien de for-
t u in ons ſlechts een iger mate
begunſtigt ; 2) to be favoured
with a thing, met iets verblijd
3vorden , 3) is in and door iets
een vermaak aan doen , hem
ple izjer doen.
Fávour, z. de gunst , de welwil.
lendheid , 2) begunſtiging , by
the favour of the night, onder
begunſtiging van den nacht ,
3) een en dienst, een vermaak,
done the favour , doe mij het
vermaak.
Fávourable , bv. gunſtig ; favou"
rable wind, gunſtige wind-
Fávourite , bv. begunſtigd, zº
gunſteling, my favourite dish,
mijn liefſte kost.
Féar , z. de vrees ; I was in great
, fear for him, ik was om zijn ***
wil zeer bevreesd ; for fe"
of falling, uit vrees van **
vallen. v
to Féat, b. w. iets vreezen, 9"
w. bang zijn,
#fée
Féarſtii, by. vree Fach tig,
Féºrſully , b wa met y reef.
Féast, z. een fees relijke ma al-
fijd ; it was a feast for him, he t
was een he erjijk maal, roar
he meſ
to Féast , o. w. ſº, tú) on
, zich te
goed doen 3 to feast on his meat,
zich met zijn y!e esch t rakte re;1, .
Feather, z. de veder, de plaim.
Fed, dw. van to Feed.
Féeble, by. zwak , moe.de.
to Féed, b. w. Tº cede rem , voeden,
Feed , z het yoeder, yogāſe 1.
to Feel, o. e., b wage yoeham , ,
v06/en, far rem.
Féeling, z. het gevoe R.
Féet, z. mv. v in Foot.
Felicity, z, geluk, za ligheid.
Fëll, o. º. van to Fall.
to Fell, b. w. vel/em , mederhou-
wens to fell trees, boomen af.
hosweh, afhakkºs, on hakkem.
Fellow, z. een makker , gezel ,
mergezel; play fellow, een ſpee!
makker , kameraad, 2) ºnes
verachting of mimachting; a
poor fellow, een arme duiye l;
a simple fellow, et n on noozeje
Bloed, met andere z. verbon-
den, word; dit woord vertaald
door met of mede, zie de voj.
gendem : -
Fellow-citizen, z. medeburger.
Fºllow-co batant, z. medeffrij-
der. -
Féllow -créatre, z, medeſchepſe!,
hat u urge m cot.
Felt, dw. van to Feel.
Female, z. oen wroßwelijk we sen;
bV, a female lama , een wiiſſes
J&ama. -
to Fermènt, o. w. gisten, in gis-
**ng gerakan.
Fermenia;ion, z, gifting.
F 1 387
Ferócious, by avreed, woest,
roof g is rig.
Ferocity, z, wres dheid, was ; ;-
he id.
Fèrtile, by, y rarh (Baar.
Fertility, z, wruchthaarheid.
Fèrvency, z, immigheid, warmti
ºf u tº r. -
Fèrvent, by. irraig, hartelijk #
fervent thank, war me dankle.
* afging 3 fervent wish, varige
wen ſch; his ſervent prayers,
zijn y a rig ge bed.
Pervently, bu', met www.r.
Pèrvor, z. varige a 4m do eming der
ge in oeds.
Festival , z, een fest, fees taag.
Festivity, z, een fest bedrijf.
;
to Fètch , b, w. halam ; 2) he
fetched a deep sigh, hiſ loosae
e6 n diepen z a cht.
to Fetter, b. w. Retenen, Boeijaa’
Féver, z, de #0 ort s. -
Fêw , by, weinig's a few, wer.
migé. ; : -
Fibrous, by vezelig, vezela chtig.
Fiction, 2. de verdichting, her
verdichtſel. .
Fictitious, by, verdicht » waſ ch.
Fie! (tasſchenw.) foe;
Field, 2. het weld, as akker 3
the field of battle, her flagwela.
Fiérce, by wild, woest, wreed,
3) driftig, snßwimig,
Fiery, by. vurg ; fiery eyes,
ºlammende oogen, s) werhit.
Fiſe, z. eene fait, dwarfairs
with a fife and tabor.
Fifteen , by. vijftism.
Fifteenth, by, vijftiends.
Fifthly , by ten viſfia.
Fifty , by. yijftig.
to Fight, b. w, vechten, 2) Be-
vechten, beftrijden ; to fight the
enemy, den vijand beftrijdan. ,
l i a Fight,
388 F I
Fight, z. ean gev, c.f.
Figure, z. eene fig aur , eene ge-
daante ; b. w. zich voorffellen;
figºre yourselves, fel a yoor
denk eans.
Filament, z de draad, de yeael,
438 r.
File, dº yiji.
Filial, by. kinderlijk ; with filial
repentance, ºnet kinderlijk Be-
*013 W , - - -
Filings, z, het wiflſal; filings of
iron, if zery iſ l/sl.
to Fºll, b. w. vallen, very wilen;
the wind filed the sail, de wind
*!ies her zai) op; 2) to fill up,
of vallen ; – one’s time, zijn
tijd befºeden.
Fill , z, volte ; to eat one’s fill,
zijn genoege n e ren.
F. n > 2. de win (van eenen virch).
Finally, by. ren Waa tºe sizde
j if X.
to Find, b, w, vinden, 2) zich
sº
tº ſº;
3.
A yi mden ; he found himself |
.*
weary, hij be von dºzich ye rino's id; |
3) to find, uff vinden ; 4) he
éould not find it in his heart,
hiſ konde he f n is f yan zich
verkrijger.
F me , in fine, ten Jaaffe, ein.
aelijk.
Fine , b v. fijn. 2) ſchoon , voor-
treffe! if k , 3) 00 k ironisch : oh
fine ! du t is war fraais !
Fidely , b wa ſchoom 2 fraai ; you
have bit it finely , g if he h = her
mo of ger aden
Finger, z. d’é y inger ; the Sore-
finger, de voorffe winger.
to F nish , b. w. findigen ,
ſ? and b rengen.
Fºre , z. vu u r s to be on fire , in
A rand ſºa a n.
to Nire, b. we ſchiefdº yard n > ||
£9 ſt
F I
44ffe kes; 2) f. fired, g ſo, i.
j ºm d > blaken d, fired with indi-
gnation, van veront was raig ing
& lakends.
Firearms, z. ſchietseweer.
Firebrand, z. een brardhout ,
brandênd hour.
Firehearth, z, de heard.
Firelock, z. de ſnaphaan.
Firestone, z. de yar rşeen.
Firetong, z. de tang, yuur rang.
Firin, by vatt, fley ig ; a firm
wall, een fevig s m u ur ; 2) a
firm resolution, een was r , on-
wrikhaar Beſ! wit ;- firm cotſ-
dence , ſtandvar tig vertro a wen.
Firmanent , z. het uitſ?anſe!, de
he me!.
Firmiy, by, wart , #and was tig-
Jijk 3 he was firmly resolved,
h if had y aft beſofen.
Firm aess, z, was tigheid ; in re-
gard to fit uness, ren aan zien
der was tigheid, 2) fºam dwa r.
figheid 5 firmness of mind , kloº-
ke gear t , y a t karak ter.
First, by. ears t ; at the frºst sight,
op her eerſ; a gezig r, 2) by,
eerſfelijk , in her beg in , oo;
at first, what they first (of at
first) supposed, waſ zij sers:
dach frn,
Firstly, at first, zie first, b wº.
Fish, z. eart 1: if ch.
to Fish , b. w. & irſchen.
Fishbone, z. eene vischgraat.
Fisherman , z. ean v i tſ: he r.
Fishing, z. dº y fºchwangs f, yi;"
/charij.
Fishing net , z. ean virchnet.
Fit, z, he froey'a?, d3 aa 1 va; *e"
ner zisk te; hot and cold ſits sac-
ceeded each other, he et a 64
koude aan vallen raig º'en op ek
#ander, 2) photſelf ke yera"
dea
F L
F f,
to Flåsh, b. w. Tasbarſten , yºur
ge yeff.
329
*
Flat, by. plat ; a flat nose, bow.
plak, vlak; he laid himself flat
down, h iſ leide zieh plat of
den grond, • . -
to Flatter, b. w. visij sm ; to flat-'
ter one’s self with hopes, zick
met hoop y lef: tº.
Flax, z. het vlas.
Flaxy, beter fläxen , b v. 94a
wjas, vlasaar dig , via fºg, via 3-
ach rig , ,
Féd, o. t. en dw. van to Flee.
to Flée , o. we v Pagten.
Fièsh, z, vie esch, 2) ‘ºles schſpijr.
Flew, o. t. van to Fly.
Flèxible, bº. b wigzaars.
Flight, z, de vlag f. -
Fling, b, w, ſlingerers, twerpen; 2)
to fling down, op den grond
werpen, mederwerpen.
Flint, z. een vaurſteem. 1.
to Flé at , o. w drif ven ; the boat
was floating, de boof dreef.
Float, z, affa ar.
Flöck, z, de kudde. '
dering ; in a fit of despair, in
een watt hopig oog emblik ; in a
fit of joy , i. ºf gene on verywack-
fe blijdſchap , 3) on mag t ; he
felf into a fit, hiſ viel in zwijm.
Fit, by. ( met for ), he kwaam ,
gaſchikº , dienfig.
to Fi: , b. w. to eye refden ge.
fe hiki of diemſ; ig maken , 2 ) o
w paſſen , geſchik ( zijn , be-
tº men ; it would not fit the
c cunstances , he t zoude in
zºke onſtandigh eden nier be-
1 &m cry.
Five, by. Vijf.
to Fix, b. w. be restigen ; he
fixed a mark, hij maak re sen
reeken daaraan , he fixed a flag
to a stick, hij maakte esme
, vlag aar: eene n ſºok wast, 2)
#epalem 3 to fix a day, eansm
dag befalen ; fixed upon, be-
pasſ d , bef cm d.
Flag, z. eene v1ag; to hoist a
flag, eene y lag hijſchen , op-
fieken. . .
fiáil, z, dorsch vſegeſ.
Fláine, z, y'am, he t w u ar,
to Flame, b. we on ty/a manen,
branden. X- -
Fläming, dw, whammende, bran-
dende. - r
Flank, z. de frank , uſe agel, zij-
ds : two cannons commanded the
right flank, twee fukken be-
fºreken de regter flask.
Flap, z, a fly flap, een y liegen-
klap. w .
to Flap, b, w. flaan he flapped
his forehead, hiſ ſloeg zich re-
gen het voorhoofd. -
Flash, z. een plotſºlijk licht : —
of powder, her on thranden van
buskruid; - of lightning, een
*Jiřſºmfiraal.
& l
| Flood, z, de vloed, overſtroo.
ining. -
Flóor, z. de plaer
Flour, z. her sneeſ, blocºm va's
freel. w .
to Flourish, b. w. bleeijen.
to Flöw, o. waylie ren; vioeijen.
Flöwer, z. een a blosin,
Flowerbed , z. sen &Joe ºbed.
Flowergarden, z. een blos mtain.
Flown, dw. van to Fly.
Flung, dw. en or t. wan to Flisg.
to Fly , o, w, vliegsn., 2) wing-
ten, ent visgren s 3) to let fly,
afſchis ran , lofbränden ; 4) to
fly up , in de l'ushs viieges,
Fly, z. eems whitg. . . . .
Flyflap, z. ess viisgaakłę. . .
º
1 3
39o F O
Flying, dw. van to Fly, a fying
fish, een vliegen de visch.
to Foam , o.. w. ſsh airman ; the
foaming bellows, de ſchuimen-
de golven. ar
Fodder, z. het voeder.
Foe, z. de vijand.
te Fóld, b. w. vouwen;
hands , vettºwde zijne handen,
leide zijn c handen zanen.
Félk, z. in enſchers, volk , Vie-
den ; young folks, jonge lieden.
to Follow , b. w. volgen.
Folly, z. dwaasheid.
Fond, bv. liefhebbend ; 2) to be
fond of a thing, iets bem in-
nen , van iets veel houden.
to Fondle, b. w. liefkozen, tros-
telen.
Fondling, z. een lieveling.
Foód, z.. voedſel; a well tasted
and whole some food, een ſana-
kelijk en gezond voedſel.
Fo61, z, een zot, een gek.
Foólish, bv. gek , 2) grappig.
Foólishly, b w. dwaasſelijk ; it
was foolishly spoken of the young
man, het was een dwaas ge-
zegde van den jongeling.
Foot, z. de voet (van menſch en
en dieren), 2) de voet, het
onderſ: c gedeelte , the foot of
a tree, de voet van een en boom;
the foot of a hill, - van een en
berg ; 3) een voet , twaalf
duimen lengte, in het laatſte
geval verandert het ſoms niet |
in het mv. inzonderheid wan-
neer er een bv. opvolgt : twen-
ty footlong, twintig voet lang.
Foóting, z. de voet. » levenswij-
ze, on this footing , 0P dezen
voet, op deze wijze-
Foétman, z. een lijfknecht ; "
ranning footman, een loopers
folded his |
F O
Foótstep, z. de voetſtap.
For, (voegw.), want. ..
For, vz, voor , he left him for
dead, hij liet hem voor dood
liggen ; for fear, ui t vr de f 5 te
would for his life have gone to
B, hij zou om al wat hem lief
was naar B. hebben wil.
len gaan ; for my part, voor
zn ij , ik voor mij, wat mij b 3-
treft ; a ship bound for Jamai.
ca, een ſchip naar Jain zika
beſte in d; for ever, voor ee a-
ovig ; I was in great fear for
him , ik was ze er om h3 m be
kom snerd , bevreesd ; 2'
while, voor een igs is tijd ; bºlt
for, ware het niet onn ; for
all that, an s t dat all 4 r.
to Forbéar, o, w, zich ontke v-
den, achter laten; to forbe 2e
from quarrels, zich van kra •
kee l on the tjden,
to Forbid, b. w. vs rk isden ; God
forbid , God verhoede het, dat
zij verre.
Force, z. de kracht, de ſterkte,
to Force , b. w. dwingen , nood-
zaken ; ts be forced iato the
conspiracy. *
Forcebly, bw. hevig, ºp een t
for
gewelddadige wijzs.
Fóre , bv. het voorſte ; the fors
part, het voorſte gedeelte.
Forefinger, z. de voorſte vinger.
Forego, o, w. voorafgaan; fore-
goïng, dw. voorafgaande,
Forehead, z, het voorhoofd.
Foreign, bv. vreemd, uitheemsch,
in foreign regions, in vreemde
landen, landſtreken. #
Fóremost, bv. het , de voor/re ,
on the foremost peninsula, op
het voorſte ſchiereiland, (9?
het
F’ O’
F’ O’ 39;
her ſhiereiland aan dize złj. to Forsåke, b, w, variaten.
de van den Ganges).
Föremoon', z. d’s vºorn idding:
F&repart, z. he t voorffe gediel;
ta, 2) her eerſ?e gedeejte (yam
tijd ſprekende),
Föresaw, o, t. van to Foresee:
to Foresåy,
voorſpellen.
to Foresee , b, w, voorzien, yoor”
aftz fen.
Fóresight, z. Yoora it zig?, yoor-
zig fig he id, inzig f.
Forest, z. het woud, her bosch.
to Forfeit , b, w. verbe area, y rr-
Jieze n ; to forfeit one’s life,
zijn ſeven yerbeuren.
Förge, z. eene ſine derij.
to Forgēt, b. w. verge ten.
to Forgive , b, w, vergeyen, var-
giffenjr ſchenken.
Forgiveness, z. vergiffen it.
Forgot , o, t, ya ºr to Forget.
Förk, z. da york. -
Förky, by. t \veeras dºg , geſ; e-
we n als gene york ; two forky
branches, ºwee rakken as ºf yan
e an a york. N.
Forlörn, by. verſaren, halpetoos;
forlorn creature, arm yer laten
fºhepſel ; a forlorn condition,
€en hºle elooza tseffard.”
Form, z. de worm, gedaante, 2)
do wifze of an ani cr; in due
form, op behoe rijke wifze.
to Förm , b, w, yormen; to form
an idea, een denkles Idy armen;
to form a conjecture, g iſ: n,
Vermos den , 2 ) aſ t in a ker: , yor-
#6 ºn, * *
Former, by. het, de vorige, eerft-
seme/de, 2) de cerſ; e.
Formerly, by. eertifas, voorheen.
**midable , by. ºriesſelijk,
ſhrikkarend,
i i 4
b; w. voor zeggerſ sº
Forsook, o. t. van to Forsake.
Förth, bºw... af, voor waarts (varr
tijd ſprekends); from this time
forth, van de zen fifa af, in
he t very olg, 2) voor 54 to come
forth, yoorkomºn, opt reden ;'
to send' forth, uitzénden’s to
sally forth, yoorwaarts rukken's
to take forth, krijg ºn.
Förtieth, by. de yeer tigſfe. -
Fortific 4tion , z, de verting y.
ſºkan r. r
to Fortify, b, w, verſerken, Iſs-
vestigen, 2) verſierken , i.e.
mard in zij w bºſſ uit doen yo!"
harden, 3) opwekken, aan moe.
digen, opheuren. * - .
Fortitude, z. meoed, fandyastig-
he fºr -
Fortnight, zars ºn trekking was
fourteen nights, yeerfien dagen,
Fortress, z. eane yesting, ferke
p}a of f. -
Fortunate, by, gelukkig.
Förlunately, buy, gel n kkiglijk,
Förtune , z. dº for t win, Jaigo-
din , he t geluk , he t loſt, het
moos; ot; if fortune favour us
ever so little, indian fechts de
fort win on s gunfig is , 2) a
good fortune, an ill fortune, a
misfortune, een goed of ſle chr
to eval ; by fortune , b if g eluk ;
3) vermogen , rijkdo ºn 2 goede-
ren.
Förty, by, veertig.
Forward, forewards, by. yoor-
waarts ; to go backwards for-
wards, he en sº weer gaan, 2)
yan tijd ; from this time for-
ward, van as af aan , van
m tº af. -
to Forward, b, w, beſpot digen,
beyorderea, -
For-
392 F. R.
Forwardness, z.
ozhezonnenheid.
Fought, o.ºt. van to Fight,
Foul, by vari/, morſºg.
Found , o, t, en dw. van to Find.
Fomination', z, de grondſlag.
to Foºnder, e. w. te grandgaan;
the ship would founder , het
fe hip gimg zinkan.
Fóuntain', z, de #ron, defen-
fe im.
Four, by. Vier ; to creep on all’
fours, op harden en yoe ten
, Krsipan. -
Fourlands, z, de vier landen, een
gºedeel tº van he fgebied yam
Hàmb urg.
Fourteenth, by veertjende.
Fourth, by. yierde.
Fowl, z, een vogel, 2) gevege ite
in he?' algemeen.
Fi ſã]ty, z. zºwa kheid, gehre kke-
lijkheid, by cosheid. r
Fr; une, z, he raam, defe?!aad-
je; a frame of beams, een rif
1 am Başken, 2) dº jig chamelij-
*g geſ; a ſto; his whole frame
trembled, zijn gamſche lig chaam
beefde ; 3) frame of mind, ge-
anoedsgeſ; eldheid,
to Fı âne, b, w, vor men ; to frathe
a judgment, een 0 ordee) y or-
men , yellem.
France, z. Frankrijk.
F; ankly, by, openharfig.
Fratērnal, by. Broederlijk.
Frăud, z, een bedrog.
Frée, by, wrif; to set free,
yrije voetem fell em.
to Frée, b. w. Vreifen, yrij la-
ten , beyrijden.
Fréely, by, y rij willig, wrije-
lijk. -
French , by, fransch; french beans 2
z com/the boomen. -
op
voor barigheid,
F. R.
Frênch, z, de franschman ; french.'
mv. de franſchen.
to Frequèat , o, wi werkeeren ,-
0mgaan (met).
Frèquently, by. meðrmſalem, dik-
wifſs:
Fièsh , by, fºr frch, versch ; fresh
water, werfoh water; fresh air,
verſche Jucht ; to take fresh
courage, mieuwen (frisſthen };
moed ſcheppen , 3) wakker, les'
9&ndig , 4} fºr k , tamelijk
ferk ; a fresh gale, sena frir,
fêhe koelfe.
Frèshness, z, d3 koelts.
Friction, z, dc wrifying.
Friday, z. vrijdag, 2) Prijdºg',
de maao, van Robinson s 10tge-
moof. +
Fried, dw, ent of t. van to Fry.
; Friend, z. de y riend.
* Friendly, by, sº by. wriendālijk;
wriendſchappelijk:
Frieudship , z, de y riendſchap.
to Fright, b. w.- verſchrikken ,
doen ſchrikkon, wrees annjager,
Fright, z. de ſchrik, y rees; to
put one in a fright, is mand
9 rees dasjagery;
to Frighten, b. w. doen ſchrik-
kan, ſchrik samjagan ; fright-
ened to death, do odelijk yer-
ſchrikt.
Fightful, by ſhrikkelijk, wrest-
ſe lijk. -
Fiftghtfully, by. op eens ſkhrik-
kelijke, yrs esſe Jijke ºf ze,
From , w?. van (her gewoonlijkg
tº skam van den vierden naam-
val, ablativus), from on high ,
van om hoog ; from thence •
van daar; from without, war,
buiten ; from in plasts vars
out; bij ſom mige engelſºhé
wer kwe ordan bezig i men from
hafe
F U
Het: ºk a lºdan door on der-
ſº he iden & hol/andſche W2. ver.
taa!d it ord t , aſ f : to hidder
one from doing a thing, icºn and
fm jet ſ kíz de reº.
Front, z, de voorzij de , he t from r.
Frózef , dw. van to Freeze, the
frozen sea, de if szee.
F: igal, z. ſpaar zaan: , 2) in a ſig
Frugality z. ſpaarºaamheid, 2)
m a fig he id.
Fruit , z, da wrack r,
Fruitless , by. yrtºft; a loos.
Frûittree, z, yr weht boom.
to Frustrate, b. w. verij deſer, te
jekr fellem 5 to frustrate one’s
hopes, fem and hoop verij de-
Jen; to be frustrated in one’s
hopes, – to leur goſield wor-
de maen. -
to Fry, b. w. braden, bakken ;
3) ro fry out, door dringen ,
g it £apelen, -
Fºyingpan , z, de #ra adjan.
Füel, z. brandff of, a 1 war weed-
ſel aan her yºu ur geef.
Fū 3itive , by. vlug tig., y]ag-
ter, de.
Fégitive, z, den vºus reſing.
to Fulfil , b, w, very allen, 2) ke
*7 edig 6 n.
Full , by, y n! ; to have eat one’s
belly full , zijn genoegen gags-
ren he b ben; to fall at full length,
zoo lang als, men, if on den
grom d'ya!! enra.
g *
• * *
G. A.
to Gain, b, w, wºrns n : to gain
one’s end , zijn do e ] be rejke m.
Găiner, z, winner, iemand die.
*int ; to be a gainer, de viº-
*endo Spa, t iſ tijn,
F U
| Fúll , b w. ten yol/em;
good, ruim zºo go ed.
Fully, bow. ten vollen, yolkomeºs
he was fully convinced, h if was
yolkoman overtuigº, fully re-
solved , vast beſlot en hebbenée.
Fūlsome, ºbv. valg elijk. :
Für , z. bont, peſs : wrapped up in
fur, in rejswerk ge wikkeld.
Fúrious, by. avoedend, razend ,
verwoe ºf , omſ; tıf r1 ig.
to Fūrl, b, w, avikkeien, kreſter
kan, kre ukelen ; to furl a sºil,
een zeil opero!!en , in haſ en-
Fürnace, z, her form u is , de overº
to Fūrnish, b., w. yo of zien me?
her moodiges-
Fürniture., z. huis raad, 2) geº-
readſchappen in her algemeen •
Fürther, yergslijkends trap. vars'
Forth , by. en b w. voort f , vers
der; titl a fürther order , tar
m 7ds r be ve! ; let us hear what
happened further, laat ons hod-
ren war er voort: gebºurde.
Fürthest , overtreffende trap yars,
Forth; at furthest, ten langfe;
the furthest point , he t yerſes,
uí terſ?e e inde.
Fūry, z. de voede.
Fúture, by. toe ko ºffig ,
tº ekom ff.
Faturity, z, de toekomst ; in the
remotest futurity, in de laarfe.
to 8 komº fe-
393
full as
|
|
ºx-
*
*
de
Zº
º
G. A
Gá" -, z: een frisſ: he wind, har-
dé wind. -
Cºlant, by, dapper, braaf.
G3 leon , z, eene ſoort yan gros-
te ſchepen, een galjoen, galja t.
Garb ,
|
}
|
N.
I. i
$.
394 G E
Garb , z, de Fleeding.
Gården, z, de ruin.
Gardener, z de tuinier, tu inmam.
Gardenground, 2. de moe sgrond.
Gardening, 2. de tuimbo aw, de
** f n in an ºn 3 p.
Gardenwork, z, tainwerk.
Garter, 2. de ko uſe band.
Gáte , z. eene poort, groote deur;
not far from the gates of Ham- |
bro’, niet ver van de Han.
bargſche poortez.
to Gäther, b. w. in 2am elem, yer-
zamelem. . -
Gäve, o. t. van to Give.
Gaúts, z, he t gebergte Gate; ,
*P her ſchfe reiland aan deze
zijde van dem Ganges.
Geese, mw. van Goose, z.
ta Geese green, eene ganze mºvei.
Gêneral, z. het gahee?, her al-
gº meen ; in general, in her al-
ge mean, 2) de generaal, veld.
heer.
Generally, by. over her alge-
ween , z) gemeenlijk.
Generátion, z, het geflacht, her ||
fijaperk.
Gênerous, by groot moedig, edel.
moedig. w -
Génerously, by groo trºoadiglijk.
Gentéel, by fatſoenlijk; a gen-
teel education, eene fatſoenlij-
ke op voeding.
Gêntle , b v. zacht , zach tºrpedig.
Gêntlemen, z. een heer, een fat-
/oemlijk man.
Gêatly , , bow. zachtmoediglijk,
G. ſ.
to Gêt, b. w. be tamen, verk rift.
gen, damne men; he got sight of
it, hij kreeg het in he t oeg,
–4) maken äat its esſ.hiejº
he got himself enlisted , hiſ main
die ms r, 3) door arbeid en moe i-
te verkrijgen ; he got an honest
livelihood, h if he kwam eam fat-
foemlijk beftaan, 4) alf beloo-
ning on t'yangem, now he gets:
his deserts, nº u krijgt hiſ looza
maar wºrker, 5 5) to get out,
with renge m 5 to get through ,
to t fand brergen ; to get hold'
of one, ie mand vatten, aan-
v atten , 6) o. we zich voort
bewegen ; he got up, hiſ ſºond
of ; to get under sail, ender zeil
gaam, 7), geraken , bareiken,
aanko men ; the fire had got to
the powder room, het was r was
aaz de Kraidkamer gekomen ;-
3) to get the better of, de overr
hand behalem. -
Giddy , by. duize lig , 2) ligf-
zinnig; some giddy young men ,
eenige on bezonmene jonge lies'
dem, 3) in eane hoºge mate
met jets ingen omen zijn ; I'
will have his head turn giddy,'
ik wil hem dàurme de he thoofd
op" ho! Premgans
Gyft, z. de gave , het geſºhenk.
to Gild, b, w, vergulden ; 2) fig.’
the sun gilded the tops of the
mountains, de zon yergulde dé
bºrg toppem.
Giulet, z. een boor.
Gin, z. een ſtrik, een va!.
to Gird , b, wr, omgarden, agrº
g orden.
Girdle, z. de gordel.
Girl, z, het me i sje. : 4.
to give, b, w; geven ; 2) to give
way, wiikan, toogeyen; to give
vriandelijk.
Geographical, b v. aardrijkskun
de; in your geographical lessons,
in uwe aardzijksk undige losſen.
Gërman, by, duit ch.
Gërmany, z. Duitschland.
Gèsture, z, gebaarden,
one’s
G O
one's self up to one, zich aan
iemand overgeven.
Giver, z. de gever.
Glàd, bv. vrolijk ; I am glad of
it, het verheugt mij.
Gladly, bw. met blijdſchap.
Glass, z. het glas, zoo wel het
glas, als ſtoffe, als de daar-
uit vervaardigde vaten.
Glassbead, z. de glaskoro af.
to Gláze , b. w. verglazen.
to Glitter , a. w. ſchemeren,
blinken ; a glittering thing, iets
blinkends.
Glóbe, z. de aardbol, 2) een e
kunſtig vervaardigde aardbol,
een e globe.
Gloóm, z. duisterheid , 2) droe-
vigheid.
Gloómy, bv. donker, duister ,
gloomy shades, donkere ſcha-
duw.
Glórious, bv. roemrijk ; it was a
glorious night, het was een
roen rijke nacht.
Glève, z. een handſchoen.
to Glów, o.. w. gloeijen, eigen
Wijk en f.
Gnàt, z. eene mug.
to Gnaw, b. w. knagen, knab-
belen.
to Go, o.. w. gaan ; if he would
go along with him, of hij met
hem wilde gaan, 2) op het
Paint zijn van iets te doen , he
was going to see the world, hij
ging de wereld zien ; 3) met
about, iets ondernemen ; 4) to
go astray, dwalen ; 5) the sky
goes down , de zon gaat on-
der; 6) to go on, voortgaan. 4. » 8 ,
| Government, z. de regering, re-
Goat, z. de geit.
God, z. God.
Godliness, z, vroomheid , godza-
G O 395
Godly, bv. godzalig, vroomrs
godly actions, vro me daden.
Góing, dw. van to Go, he was
going to see, hij ging zies.
Göld, z. goud.
Gold.dust, z. ſtofgoud.
Goldcoin, z. gouden mant.
Gólden, bv. van goud, gouden.
l ig be id,
| Göne, dw. van to Go, the mo-
ther was too fat gone, de vroe-
der was te ver weg, te zeer
verzwakt.
Goód, bv. goed, 2) dienſtig ;
your umbrella is good for no-
thing, uw regenſcherm deugt
“sier, 3) aanmerkelijk, a good
while, e ene 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-
te, for our good, voor ons wel-
zijn; you will find much good
by it, gij zult u daarbij ze er
wel bevinden ; 8) goods, goe-
de ren, waren -
Goódnátured , bv. goedhartig,
goed.
Goódness, z. de goedheid; the
goodness of his constitution, zijn
goede ligchaamsgeſtel.
Goóse, z. de gans,
Gooseberry, z. de aalbes.
Gooseberrybush , z. de aalheffen-
ſtruik. r
Got, o. t. en dw. van to Get.
Gotten, dw. van tó Get.
to Govern, b. w. regeren, te
govern the boat, de boot ſta-
ren, 2) beheerſchen.
geringswijze.
Governour, z. de beſtuurder; 2)
de ſtadhouder, gonverneur.
Grae
396 G R.
-Grâce, Z. de genade , de gun , t ,
2) de vergiffenis , het pardom.
Grácious , b v. gema dig. "
Good grácious ! (tus ſchenw.) lies
-vg he me'??
«Cráciously , buy. gena diglijk.
“Gradually , by. trººpsgewijze ,
langzam erham d.
to Graft, b. W. 6 m tem.
‘Graft, z. een ent ſtok, ent taſk.
Grafting , 2. het em tes.
Grafting wax, z, boom liff m.
:Gráin, z, het graan , kó orm , z)
zaad van andere genvas ſºn 3 3)
korrels ; grains of shot, hagel.
Granary, z. de ſchutir.
KG, and papa, Z. de grootvader.
to Crant, b. w, to eſ: aan ver-
g unnan ; God grant, geve God;
to grant grace, genade be wif-
zen ; you shall have your lives
granted, gij zult her leyem be-
hou deft.
Giápe, z. de draif, druïvent ros,
to Grass, b. w, grijpen 2 waſ tem.
“Crass, z, he t gras.
Grass plot, z, he t bleek veld, graf-
weld, grasple k. }
cratificătion, z. de few rediging.
Grateful, by, dank baar.
Gråtefully, by. met dank&aarheid.
to Gratify, by. bovre digen 5 to
gratify one’s curiosity, iemands
nieuwsgie righeid be vre digen.
Grátis, by. kostelo of , om niet-
Gratitude, z, de dunkhaarheid.
Gräwe, by, ornſtig , pleg tig.
Grāve, z, he t graf. -
Grávely, by. ermſtiglijk.
to Gráze, o, w, grazen, weiden.
Great, by groots a great many,
eene groore menig to , 2) grº of
( tijd bed aidende ); a great
while, een geraim on tijd.
Greatly , by, in 66 men hºogen
C U
| Ground,
graad, zear ; greatly rejoiced,
2eer perhaugil.
Creediness, z, de gre tigh, d.
Greek , z. de griek.
Green , by. gro era.
Green , z, de groente,
k ruiºlen.
Grew , o. t. van to Grow.
Griéf, z. de droefheid.
to Gričve, b. w. bedr sever ; it
grieves me, het doet m if Iged.
"Griévous, ºbv. verdriete Fijk,
Grrevously, buy. 'yerdriate/ijk.
to Grind, b. w, wrijven, maſen;
to grind corn , koorn male n.
Grindstone, z. eam moſt n ſteen,
een ſlijpſ: een.
to Gróatl , o, w. kermen, zuch few.
Gróan , z. een zuch t.
Groën, z. knecht ; a groom of
the chamber, een kamer dienaar.
Grötto, z, eam hol, grot.
o, t. en dw.
tº () tº t e
van to
Grind.
Growind , z. He grond; he fell on
the ground , hiſ yiel op den
grond ; an elevated grotint!, een
verheyene groad, 2) degrond,
reds , he t bowijs.
to Grottud., b. we gronden, ver,
tigen ; well grounded , wel gé-
grond.
Groënd-floor, z. de benedex y]oer,
to Grów, O. we groeifan , waſ.
fan , a] worden ; it grew dark,
het overd donker.
Grówn, dw. van to Grow ; grown
people, yelwa’sſen menſcher.
Gröwth, de was dom , groei.
to Grüb, b. w. met des worte!
hit graveſt.
Guanako, z, een Zaidaiserikaansch
dier, ook Jama genoend.
to Guard, b, w. be waken, bºw 4°
ren; 2) be/ther wiew.
Gtº.
guárd, z, da wacht ; 2) to be
upon one's guard, op zijne hoº-
de zijn. . . . .
Uuarding, by, beſcherm end 3 guar- :
ding care, de beſthermen de zorg,
to Guess, b. w.en o. we giºſen,
.vermoeden, 2) radam.
Üuest, z, de gast.
Guidance, z. de leiding, beffier ing.
to Guide, b. w.gele iden, beft tireme
Guide, z. ocm leid; man.
Guile, z. de list, her bedrog;
in whom there was no guile, in
wien geene waſ schheid ſchuilde.
Guilt, z. de ſchuld, de misdaad.
Gułlty, by, ſchuldig , which l have
..beco guilty of, wearaan ik m if
heb ſchuldig gem aaki.
Guinea, z. eene landſ, rock aan
H A
Habit, z. de gewoonte, manier ;
an easy habit, onged wongane
manie ren.
Habitätion, z, woning.
Habitwal, bv. hebbelijk, gew86 m.
Häckle, z. &e hekel.
to Hackle, b. w. hekelen.
Had , o, t. en dw. van to Have.
Háil, z, de hagel.
Hair, z. het haar; your hair will
stand ou end, de haren zullen
it tº Berge rijzen. 4
Tlalf, by, half; by. half, ten
halve. -
Halloo ! (tusſchenw.) alſo :
\
to Halloo, b. w. allo rospen, |
dan moe.digan.
to Halt, e. w. Blijve u Jaan, haſ
houdem.
G tº 897
ds ºvertkust van Afrika s 2
Guinea trader, gem Gaime a vaar-
der, 2) eene engelſche goad-
m unt, van 21 engelſche ſchel-
Jingen, (ruim II gulden hol-
landsch X.
Gülls, z. eene ſhort van zeemeeuw.
Gulph, z, de afgrond.
Gun , z. ſchiergenveer, ſhaphagn.
kanon. -
Gunpowder, z. buskraid.
to Güsh, b. w. witſorten s a tear
gushed down his cheek, eene
traan vioeide langs zijne
ºva, ng. -
Güst, z. de foot;
een rakwind. ,
Gūt, z. een darm ; m
wand.
a gush of wind,
- - * ‘ū
v. het ingº-
H A
Hand, z, de hand; his habd is in,
hij is daar mede begig 5 winter
is at hand, de winter isop han-
den s before-hand , yooraf,
voortlif. : . - f
Håndful, z. eene handvor.
HAddicraft , z. oem handwerk. ,
Handicraftman , z, 68 it ambachts.
..??? (???s - -
Handkerchlef, z, een nausdoek.
Handle, 2. ket his ºdyatſel, he chf,
de feel.
to Handle, b. w. be handelen ,
han ters n : how to handle a
knife, hoe hiſ rºst sen mes
zºo’est orºg aan. -
Handmill, z, eers handmolen.
Handsome , by two ºf , fraa; ; lief,
aardig , 2) dienſ; ig.
thumer, z, dc hamar.
K k
to Haug b. W. hanger; ; to hang
Gºtt s
H. R.
out, airhangen ; to haug down, I Harness, z, het hoofdº uig was
mederlaten, 2) ophangen (i.e-
mand), 3) o. we hangen; to
hang down, neerhangem. -
to Iłappen, o. ºw. toe vallig ge-
be wren ; let us hear what hap-
pened to R., Jaat on shooren
wat R. Dejegemde ; a ship that
happened to be near, ean ſchip
he twelk to evallig in de mašij-
he id was, 2) to evallig to tie ts
gerakan.
Happity, ºbv. bij geluk, geluk-
kiglijk. -
Happiness, z, he t ge?uk.
Happy, by, gelukkig.
Harassed, by, yers oe id, afge to be.
to Hârbour, b. w. harbergen ; tº
harbout a suspicion, eenem arg-
ºw aan voedem. -
Hard , b v. en by... hard, vast, 2) ||
zwaar, moefjelijk ; a hard con-
test , een harden ſtrijd 5 to
work hard, hard ºverken , 2)
fºerk , he vig ; it rained very
hard, het regende zeer ferk.
to Harden, b. w. perharden, fferk
znake a 5 to harden ‘one’s consti-
* tution, zijn ligchaam verſier-
ken; e. w; hard worden, ver-
hardem. -
Hardiy , b we maauwelijk: , ba-
zºvaar lifk. -
Hardship, z, verm ceijenff, onge- ||
mak.
Härm , z. Kwaad, belee diging ; it
had done him no harm , he t had
hem gaen ſeed gedaan, 2)ſcha-
de, madeel ; what harm wine || *- - -
Head , z. her hoofs 3 head over
docs, hoe made elig de wifn is.
Harmless, by. onſcha delijk, on-
ſchuldig, -
Harmónious , by overe enſem-
|
mem d.
Harihony, z, overeenſfeh; míng.
'eem paard.
to Harness, b. w. her hoofdraig
aan doen, to omen.
Harrow , z. de eg.
to Harrow , b. w. eggen.
[Harry, z, Yerkort van Henry ,
Hamdrik, - -
Harsh, by. ruv, hard.
Harvest, z. de orgs .
Häsp, z. ec m grendel,
Haste, z, haast, ſhood; in haste,
haast ig 5 to make haste, zick
ha as ten.
to Hasten, haste, zich haarten;
to haste away, zieh weg ſpoee
den ; to has ten a work, een werk
/chfelijk afmaken.
Hastily, buy, haast iglijk.
Hasty • b v. haas rig ; with lasty
steps, met haastige ſchreden.
Hát, z, de hoed.
Hatches , z. de bijl ; his stone hate
ches, zijn ſeen en biji.
Hateful, by, hatelijk.
to Have , b, w, he bbem.
Having, dw. van to Have, ook z.
her hebbem.
to Hául, b. w. trekken, ſlapen :
they hauld the boat to the 'ship ,
zij had!den da boot maar bes
ſchip toe.
Häy, z. her hgoi.
Häyrick, z. de hooivork.
Hazelnut, z, een hazelno ot.
Hé, (perſ, voornw.) hij , 2) ecs
mannelijk dier ; a he lama, een
Jama bok ; a he one, een name
metje.
heels, hals over hoofd, 3) de
/bits, de top , 3) verſtand ,
wil; it come into his hèad, he
put it into his head, h iſ kwarº
op de gedach to ; it ran through
- big
H E
his hèad, het ging hew door
het hoofd; this head of mine is
an excellent one, viv at mijn
kop 1 4) hoofdafdee ſing , h00 fºr
fak; to unite them under one
}
conmon head, om dezslyen on-
der es a punt te za men t e & ren-
gºn. - - :-
Hèadake , hēadache, z. hoofdpijn.
Hèadlong ; by. half oyer hoofds
half oyer kop. -
to Héal, b. w. hes!er:. .
Health, z. de gezondheid,
Healthy, by. gezond.
Heap, z. sen hoop.
to Héap , b, w, ophoopan, opſºa-
pe len.
to Héar , h, w, em or w. hoo rem.
to Hearken , o, w. lui i re ren; they
hearkened to him with great at-
tention , zij laisterdam inct
groote oplet tena; he id naar he m.
Heart, z, her harr, (zoo wel ei-
genlijk als f.), with all my
heart; zeer gaarne ; he could
not find it in his heart, hiſ kon
he f miet van złch verkrijgen 5
he took heart, hij ſchepta maed;
2) gehe ugen ; to know by heart,
wan buffers kennen ; 3) for this
heart, voor zijn ſeven.
Hearts ease, z. at his hearts ease ,
traar we nich. . .
Hèarth, z, de hadrā.
Heartily, by, hartelijk.
Hearty, by... hartig, hartelijk;
a hearty shake , een duch tige
fºhok. . . . . •
Héat , z. de hitte, 2) de hey ig-
heid, drift 3 in the héat of his
joy, in het midden zijner blijd-
Jſchap. f * , - -
to Héat, b. sw. verhitten , haet
makem, , .
Héathen, z. sen heiden.
H E 390
} Heating, z. h4t heet maken , z)"
de war hit fing. .
to Héave, b. w. epheffen, aptrak"
ken 5
to heave on shore, op
fºrand trekken, a J sit de barsº
opheffen ; to heave a deep sigh,
esna zivars Zucht Joozen- . . . .
Hèaven, z, de he mel, a) het ºp-
per wezen, . . ." -
Heavenly , by. he melsch ; our
heavenly father, onze he malſche
vader, r .
Heavily, by... bezwaarlijk, zwaar.
Heavy, by, zwaar, 2) traag ,
jangzaar. time appears heavy
to him, da rijd palf herſ, lang-
Hèdge, z, eens heg, ornheiming.
Héed, z, ach: , zorg, opºserk"
zaam ; let him who stands take
heed, die faaf zfe fes enz-
Héel, z, dc hief yam den voe # 3.
at his heels, aan zijne his lens
head over heels, hals over kop.
Héight, z, de hoogte, 2) de hoof:-
fe trap of groad ; in the height
of his joy, in he t in faden , op
her hoogfe , , zijner y reugda ;
when the fire was burning at its
height, toen de ylammen hoog
opſ!gegen. - .
to Héighten , b, w, verhoegsta 3
verheffen. - -
Héir, z, de grf, enaam. 3.
Héld , o, t. an dw. van to Hold.
to Help, b. w. he ſpen, bijftaan,
2), we rhindere n, verhelpen; we
can’t help it, wif kunnen her
niet helpen; he could not help.
but, hij k on miet dan; he could
uot help shedding a tear, i ij
kon cich nies on thoudan tra-
men te ſtarten, 3), aan ſafel,
iew, and died ºn 3 to help oue, to :
some thing. . . . . .
| Help, z, d, hºle. . . .
k 3. "Hèl
400 H P
Helper, z. de helper.
Helpless, by huſpelãof ; in his
helpless condition, in zijnen
hulpeloozen to effand.
Heml (tusſchenw.) he i, ei ?
Hemp , z, hennip.
Hence, bw. van hier, van daar.
Henceforth, by. in her very of g ».
in het toe ko mende. - :
Henry, z. Hendrik.
Her, (perſoonl, voornaamw.) haar,
(0.0% van ſchepen in het sn-
gelsch), a wave carried her up
*o the sky, eene golf voordº'
Wietzelve maar &e weſk on ; while
she lay on one side, terwijl he t
op zijde lag.
Herb , z. eane pian r, Kruid.
Hèrd, z. eene kudde.
Hére, by hier.
Héte about, by. hierom ºre mir.
Héreafter, by. hier na.
Héreby, by hierhij , hiardoor,
door dif ixidae?.
Hérein, by hierin, daarin, er in.
Héreof, by hieryam, daaryan.
Héreon, by, hierop hieraan.
Héreto, by. hier toe, hieraan.
Hétmit, z, de k} a &enaar.
Héro , heroe, z. de hełd.
Herbical, by, he/dh aftig.
Herring, z. een haring.
H I
hid himself behind a tree, hij vers
berg de zich achter een en boom.
Hide, z. da haid van een dier.
f{ldeous , by. afzig telijk, aff-ha-
welijk. •
Hideously, by. affchuwelijk.
High , by. en b wa hoog ; on high,
in do hoogte ; from on high,
van boyan, 2) havig, ferk ;
the wind blew high, he f wadi de'
geweldig 5 high winds, harde
win den.
Highly , by. ten koog #e 5 he was
highly delighted, hij was zeer
yer blijd.
High water, z. hoog water, y] of 8,
ſpring fif.
Hill, z. bergje , he uyeº.
Hlm , (van he, perſooni. vºor-
naaraw.) he m.
Himself, (perſoonl. voornaamw.)
he m zelven , hij zelf; he was
besides himself, hiſ was ba i fez:
| zich ze]ven ; he lived by him-
self, hij ſe efde sp zich ze!yen.
Hínd, by. achterſ?e, a chts re'ſ 5
the hind part, he t achtar Jee ( ;
a hindquarter, een a chterſ tºk.
Hinder van Hind, z is Hind; cm
his hinderlegs, op zijn & schter,
p of ºn.
to HAnder, b. w. ve rhinderen 9.
h in derem , (rnet from).
to FIesitate, b, w, a arzelem, be- |
fluite loor zijn , h give rig zijn ;.
he hesitated a few moments, hij
bedach f 'zirk esnige oogen-
blikken.
3Hesitätion, z. de Beſla ire loo, he id;
without any hesitation , zon der
eam 69g emblik te aarzelen.
to Héw , b, w, ho uwen, yellen y
2) 80 houwen , inhouwen.
Hid, o. t. en dw. van to Hide,
verbergen. -
to Hide , b, w, verberg ºn 3 he
Hºnge, z. het ſchernier.
Hint, z. een wenk, toeſpeling.
His , (bezittel. voornaamw.) zijn s.
zijn g : enkelv., 6 m mv.
FI) story, z de geſchieden Rs 5 his-
tory of travels, reisbeſchrij--
ving ; natural history, matutºr-
Jijke geſchiedemif. -
to Hit, b. w. traffen , raken : he
hit the mark, hiſ trof het doeſ :
to hit upon a notion, op ecºs
ge dach fé. Kome: ; bit upon aan-
gée-
H. O.
| ge&uid, aangewegen, 2) rade 2,
jgift gisſen ; you have hit it,
g if heb t he t geraden.
Hit, z. een ſlag, worp , how ºv,
a) gen to eva!; a lucky hit, een
ge/ukkig toey al., 3) een inval.
Hitherto, by, toº nu toe, to tº
hier to 0. -
Hobgoblin , z. een ſpook, herſe n-
ſch immig ºvezem.
Hogshead, z, een 0 & shoofd3 ees
gro of yat. .
to Hoist, b. w. in de hoogre hef-
fen 5 to hoist the sail; her zei;
ophiſ ſchen ; to hoist a flag, ex-
me vlag opſfeken ; to hoist a
boat, eche boof uitzetten...'
to Hold , b, w. houdem ; to hold
out, with or de m x tº itſfrekke: ;
to hold a conversétion, een ge-
forck houden.
Hold, z, it has no hold, her haeff
geen hoad vast : 2) to lay hold,
take hold, get hold of a thing,
iets aang rijpen, vatten ; 3)
the hold , he tº ruim was een
ſchip; there is four foot water
in the hold , er if yier yoet was
ter in het ruin.
Hôle, z. een ho?', z) een g it.
Hellow , by, ho! ; the tree was ;
hollow with age, de boom was
door o uderdom witgehold.
to Hollow , b, w, hoſ maken, uit-
hellen.
Hollow , z. eene holte a cen hoj,
2) de diep re.
Hóly, by. heilig,
Hörnage, z de eed van gefronw-
heid, de had diging ; to do hi
homage; he in huldigen. !
Hôme, z. het huis; at home, we
buis, z) de haarāftede, her wa-
derland; to leave one’s own
*. - R. K. 4
HIO 4OI.
home, zijne eigen hadrāffede
verſa ren. .
Home, by. maarhuis, huiswaarts,
to go home, naar zijne haard-
ſheds rer agkee ren. .
Hônest, by. cer/ijk, regtſchapen,
braaf ; an honest man: , eam
braaf man. º
Hônesty, z, de braafheid, eere ,
lijkheid.
to Hönour, b. we serem , h0 og-
ach tº m,
Hönour, z. her eerambt, da waar-
dig heid, 2) de eer.
Honourable, by, gafera, a cht isgs-
waardig, eervoi.
to Höp, o, w, happelen; hopping
about, rondhtippe lendo.
Hope, z, de hoop 5 to be in hopes,
hoop yodds n.
to Hope, b, w, hopen.
Horizon, z, de gezigte inder, he
rizon. ... ? &
Horizºntally, by, horizontaal ,
waterpaş. , ,
Hörn, z. de hoorn. -
Hörned, by, gehoornd, met hoor.
men voorzieff; the horned mon-
8ter, her gehoornde ged rog t.
Hörribly , b weijsſelijk, ſchrikke-
lijk , akelig. -
Horror , z, iets ſthrikkelijks,
ore asſeſſijks, akeligi.
Hörse, z. het paard.
Hörsebair, z. her paardehaar.
Hospitality, z, de gast wrijheid.
Höst, z, dc gaſ theer. -
Hostile , by, wifan delijk; in a
hostile manner, op eene ºan-
de; if ke wifze.
Hôt, by heefs redhot, gloeijena.
Hóur, z. het tºur, 2) de klok,
House, 2. het huis; a storehouse,
een yoarraadſchwar, pakhuis,
*agaziſm,
Hèu-
4O2 H U.
Hºusehold, z, de huizhouding, 2)
hais raad.
Hole, by. hos, •p welke wifze.
However, by. int us ſchem, even-
ºvel 2 echter, niette min; how-
ever great, hoe gre of ook.
Howl, z. ker gehuil.
to Howl, o. w. huiſen; a howling
hurricane, een hailenda form.
Howling, z. het gehuil, gelosi.
to Hiddle , o, w. zich in haast
194 fººms ja ſz.
to Hüg, b, w, o mhelzen, omarmen.
Hüge , by, gedrog telijk , zeer
gro 9t. -
Hüman, by. menſchelijk; a human
creature, eer: ºneſts ch ; a human
voice, eans menſchelijke ſº em.
Humáne, by. menschlieyend, wrien-
deli; k.
Humanity, z, do menschheid, her
me ºfthelijk geſlacht , 2) de
menschlievemaſhe ful.
Húmble, by. mederig , onderda-
nig 5 your most humble servant,
aw enderdan ige die maar.
to Húmble, b. we vermede rem.
Húmbly, by. mede rig.
Humility, z. mede righajd.
Húmour, z. Juim ; in good bu-
mour, in een goeden Jaim.
Hundred, by, honderd.
Hung, o, t, en dw. van to Hang.
Hùnger, z. de hongºr.
Hüngry, by hongs rig.
H. Y.
to Hunt, by... ex: o, w. jagans
Hunter, z. de jager ; a hunter’s
pouch, eene wift arch, jagºbosch.
Hunting , z. he t j agen, de jagº;
on this day he did not go a
hunting, op dezen dag ging hij
ziet op de fag t-
Hüntsman, z, een jager.
Hürricane, z. een orkaan , he vige.
ſform. -
to Hürry, o. w. zich haa stem a
zich ſpeeden.
Hürry, z. de hansf, overhaaffinſ.
to Hürt, b. w. beſcha digen, be-
zerem , kºvetſºn : it was not in
the least hurt, hat was gehect
onboſch a digé.
Hürt, z. ſchade, made e!, kwet ſºng.
Hürtful, by. ſcha delijk, ug deglig,
Hüsband , z, dc echrgénoot, man,
ge maal ; her deceased husband ,
haar over?ads n man; , a J huº-
wader; as a good husband, a 's
een goede hu is vader.
Häsbandºnan, z. landman.
Hūsbandry, z, de landbour'.
Hush I (tusſchenw.) #il 4
to Hūsh, b. W. ffillen; the storm:
was hushed, de form had zich
ge lega.
Hūsh, z, de ſºil, da haſ r.
Hut, z. eeue hut.
{Hymn , z, een lofcang , Pie 8; 00:
a hymn of praise.
Hypochºndriack, by, mitzachtig.
º
I D
* Eamiga wo ordan met in
I, (perfoont, voornaamw.) ik.
Idéa, z. een beg rif's demº y 0°r"
I D .
an in beginnen de , windº man ºtºdºº
de letter E. - -
failing, een donkbald, een"
gº dº;h;e ; I have an idº > */
dunkſ ,
I M .
dankt , , ; k mºen 5-from an idea,
ir de meening.- -
Idle, by. Praag, 1sº 2) ledig sº
to sit quite idte , led ig. zir tem.
ldleness, z--luiheid, a) de ledigº-
gang,' ' -
If, (voegºw.). £ndies or •
A’gnorance , z. de onwefendheid:
}*gnorant , by, on we tend ; – to be
ignorant of a thing, iefs nies
• ‘M € / C / s.
1°ll, in plaats var. I will.
ill-, by... en by, flecht , boos, 2):
A rank , zirk 3 to be taken ill,
ziek zijn, 3) ill-fortune, ongsluk.
*Ilness, z. ſlech theid, 2) z is k, e.
Illusion, z, dwaling, verblindheid,
limáguable, by. A edenkelijk.
Imaginary, by, herſenſchimmig,
ingebeeſd. - :- > *
Aluaginátien , z. de verbeelding ,
in be elding , 2) een begrip , e.g.
me yourſe/ling. -
to Imagine; b, w, zich verbeel-
den ; it is not to be imagined ,
men kan zich mier veräseizen,
2) uity in den.
to Imbark , embark, b. w.en o. wr
inſchepen, zich inſchspen.
to limbèllish, b. W. ver/raaifer: ,
ſº ren. --
Imbèllishment, z, #e verfraai.
jing , he ſeraad,
to Imbitter , b, w, verkittersn.
initable, b v. nayo/gbaar, mayor-
genswaardig. -
to Imitate, b, w, *&Wałgeſt , na-
døen, namáken. - *-
Initàtion, z, de mayo ging.
Immédiate , by, on middellijk; for
his immédiate dise, tot zijn on-
ºmiddellijk se braik ; b w. rar-
Jºon 8, 0.9 g embliškelijk.
limense, by ox insteiiſk; the im.
K. k 4
H M 403
mense otºatl, . dé on mºelifke.
0 & 0 & 33,
Imminent, by. your de 00gen z198-
vende; an imminent danger, sen
dreigend go yaar. . . sº
Immöderate, by. on marig,
Immortal:, by. onferfelijk.
immortality, z, de onſerfelijkheids
km moveable , by. on betwegelijk.
to Impáir', b, w, verzwakken.
to lmpárt, b.w.. mºededeeken.
Impºtience, z. ong edu/d-
Impátient, by-ong edu/dig.
Impátiently, by. ong edu/digiifº.
to lmpéde, b. w. verhindgren ,
opheuden, baſem merem.
Impèdiment, z, hinderpaal , hig-
derm if. Jº
to Impél, b, w. aandrijven- &
Imperceptible, by. on merkhaar. *
Impèrfect, by, on yol maak r.
imperfection, Z. de envolmaaks'
he id.
Impétuous, by. orſºuinig.
Impetuosity, Z. de onfui migheid,
he vigheid. -
to lmplant, b-w, imprent ºn , in-
plan ten s-
Implement, z, he # werk taig,
Importance, z, de geºvig tigheid 3
to be of importance, gewigtig zijn
important; by getvig tig.
to Impôse, b. w. opleggen , be-
Jastan; a J on one, is mand mis-
lcide n, bedriegen.
Impossibility, z, de on mogeſijkheid.
Impossible, by. on mogolijk.
Impossibly, by. onºtoge lijk.
imptºstor, z. sen bedriggers
Impôsture, z, he bedrog.
lmprèssion , z, de indruk ; it made
a deep impression on his heart.
Improbable, by, on waarſchijn lifk.
Improper, by, on yoes zaa in 3 on 96-
tarnelijk.
tº @
404 I N
to Imprêve", b. w. verbeferen, 2)
o. w. zich be te ren , y ordersºn ;
to improve in some art, in ee-
mige kunst yorderingen maker.
Impróvement, z de verb etering ,
vordering. -
Imprildence ,
tigh oid. .
In pridenz; b.v. on voorzig fig o'
Impiölse, Z. da aandrang.
In , wº. (ter aandwiding van tijd,
plasts em to effand); in the coun-
z. de on yourzig-
try, op het land, baiten; in
doing nothing , met mie is £e
doen; in the daytime, hiſ dag 3
in body, Jigchamelijk 3 in all
§elihºod, maar &lls "waar-
Yºhijnlijkheia.
Jº, bw. while his hand was in,'m a
* h iſ er eens was 5 to eome in ,
to get in, inkomen.
to Ináble , b, w. in f#aaf fiellan
bak wadm maken.
Inactive, b v. werkelods.
Inadvertently, by. on achizaaſh 5
onbeda cht.
Iucápable, by. on be kwaam.
Incapacity, z. en be kwaamheid,
Incées ant, bu. onophoudelijk, on-
afgabroken.
Incessantly, by. zonder ophowden.
Inch, z. duim ; her waalfde ge-
deelte van can voet 3 four in-
ches above water, vior duin bo-
yen water.
Incident, z. het poeval. -
Inclemency, z, ruwheid; - of the
weather, de g a urhaid was het
we der. . . . .
Inclinátion, z, de neiging 3 - to
travel, de lust tot réizens -
to work, 'de werkzaamheid.
to Incline, o, w; genegen zijn,
en van Jaars beſt wireme
| N.
inclºsure, eatlósure, z, d, owie
he in ing.
to include , b, w.
waſ ten.' . **.
to Incommodate , b, w, bezwaar-
Jijk vallen. -
Incomprehénsible y bw, on begrije
palijks,
lnconsideracy, z, on bezonmenheid,
: Inconsiderate, z. on $edacht, on-
bazo ºnem : an inconsiderate be-
haviour, een on he zonnax gedrag.
Inconsistent, by, owbofaanhaar,
on overdenkomſ?ig , van daar :
anger if rºd 3 inconsistent with
réason, on beftaanbaar met de rede
Inconsólable, by. on troostbaar.
Inconstancy, z. ox beft endigheid,
onffandyas figheid; inconstancy
of human heart , de Twankel mos-
digheid van her manſtholijk hars
Inconvénience, inconvêniency, z,
mos if elijkheid, bezwaardijkheid
. Inconvénient, by. ange makkelijk,
Bazwaarlijk. -
to Incréase, b. we vermeerderen,
g roofer of meer maker, , o. wo
warm serderem , groof or of meer
ºw or 38 m. - -
Incréase , z, de a 4x4was, yer meer,
dering.
Incredible, by ongeloofelijk.
Incumbrance , z. beheminering ,
hinderm is ; freed from their in-
cumbrance, van hunnan dwang
beyrijd. x
Incirable, by, ong eneesſelijk, on"
heelba ar.
Indéed, by werkelijk , in der
daad, ovaarlijk, x) wel is waar.
Indefatigable, by, onvermoeid; in-
defatigable industry, onvernoº
de wift. . . . .
Indefatigably, by, on vermoeid.
| Independent, by. onaſhankalijk.
in-
in housen, be-
;
I'N
Indian, z, de india&n s bv, indi-
aansch,
to Indicate, b, w. aan too ten.
Indies, z. tav. dd indi en 3 east-,
00: tin died ; west-, ºves firi dies.
Indifferent, by, onverſchillig.
Indifferetice , z. onverſchi i}igh e i 3;
‘ a matter of indifference, een a gh-
werſ: hillige zaak.
Indigence, z, he fge brek, dd nood-
draft.
Indigent, bu. be hoefrig ,
lifdend;
Indiguition , z. 1'e rom twaardiging,
fired with indignation, vam vers
on the gardiging bigke mºde, gle ci-
jendé van to orns :
indisflensable, bv. on on the erhijk,
roadzake/ijk.
indispensably , bºw, orvermijde-
delijk, on 2: tº serlijk , moodza-
ke ſijker avijzt, - -
Abdispósed, by, angefeld, onpa:-
Je; if k.
Individual, z, cºme enkeſa i zaak
of perſon, een individw.
Indolence; z. traagheid, zorge.
ł00 theid, Juiheid,
Indolent, by traag, zorge loos,
nood-
to Indúce , b, w. Bewegen, over-
.hglen, aanſporen 3 werleiden.
to Indulge, b. w, toegev en; te
indulge one’s gratitude, zijse
dan&baarheid, gehoar geven,
wrijen loop latens, to indulge.
one’s self, zijn eigen zin of
ſmaak volgen s to indulge. a
thought, eene gedachta koeste-
renº to indulge one’s joy, zij--
he wreugde ruinen-teugei.vii-
indulgence; z. feederheid, roege-
• *egen, 2): taegenegenheid tº prº-
*** gabrºken-vaneanderen,
Kºk 5
I N 465
| Indulgent, by.g goed, gena dig ,
forge vend.
Indústrious, by... vliftig , an in-
dustrious. liſe, es's wºrkzaams.
! # verſ. t
Industry, z, whijf , werkzaamheid,
ſuèstimablé, by. onſchatbaar.
Inèvitable, by. amyerm iſ de lijk.
It exhaustible, by. or u is put telijk •
Inexpérience, z, de ong rvarenheid.
Inexpérienced, z. on eryarets, on-
dery inding loos. -
Inexprèssible, by. on uitar akke-
fijk, on wit ſprekelijk ; with in-
expressible joy, me; on uitſ? re-
kefijke y retagdø. *,
Infällible, by. onfeillaar;
Infancy, z. de kind theid.
Infant, by: jong, kinds ch.
to Infect, b. w. Ganfiekań ś - the
air, de ſuch verpes ren.
to Iñféeblé, enfeeble, b, w, vers
zniakºë me .
to Infér, b, w, beſtlifan, opm.gken;
Inférior, by. Jager van plaats , ,
miñder van waardigheid, ge"
ringer van to effand ; he was ifi-
férior to him in knowledge, hij.
war in kande varre beneden herz:
Inferior, z. eat, m indéré , on dark
geſchik; e.
Infidelity, z. dé orgatro awhid,
trouwe foosheid. *
Infinite', by, one indig.
Infinitely, by, one indiglijk ; ins
finitely more wise , , one indigº
nvijzer. - -
Infirmity, z; zwałrs, ziekte:
Iuflámed., b.v. en dw, on tv lands.
aangevuard. . . - \
Induence, z, de-invroed.
to Inform, b. w. -- of a thing,
be rigt wegens fets geven; of
this I was talso informed , hier-
van Kreeg ik of k be rigt.
to
4O6 I N
to Infringe , b, w. kreuken, kwet.
fen , inbreak maken.
to Infºse , b, w, imprenten, in-
/forten , inge ven.
Ingentity, z. /*herpzimmigheid,
F. N.
Insensible, by, geydello, s, ange-
voe lig.
Insensibility, z, onge yoe ligheid. .
Ins?asibly , b w. onge voel iglij k.
to insert, b. we in voegen.
Inside , z. de binnen zijde, he s
binnesſ; e.g. the inside of the
wall, de binnenkam f yam dam
m uw r , 2) h ºf inge vand.
Insignificant, by. on bedui dend. .
Ins) pid , b v. Jaf, ſmakeloof.
Insolvent, by, insolvent, niet in
faat on zijne ſchudden te be-
talem. -
to Inspire , b, w, in blaze n >
premism,
Instance, z. ean dringend ver:
zoek , 2) voorbes lº; for instan-
ce, bij voorbeeld.
Instant, b v. oogenblikkelijk.
. Instant, z. een oogenblik.
in a'
ſ: Instantly, by. •ogenblikkelijk.
Instead, vz. in plaats, (met of).
to Instill, b. w. imprent on.
Institution, z. eene in rig fing-
to Instrict, b. w. on derrig ten >
onder wiſzen ; he did not like to
be instructed, hiſ wilde a fe?
gaar me on derrigt zijn.
Instraction, z. het on derwijs, e)
he t y corſchrift.
Instructive, by. leerzaam , Pedrº
rijk; an instructive conversa"
*ion, een leer rijk geſprek.
Instructor, z. de onderwijzer-
Instrument, z, het werkraig.
Instrumental , by disaffig 2
hulpzaam-
Insupportable, by, onverdrag elijk.
Intelligible , by verſiaanbaar 7
begrijpelijk, duidelijk.
to Intend, b. w. voorne men's zijn?
to intend a work, eenig wºrk
voornemans zijn te doom ; *
2) openhartia heid. -
Ingratitude, z, d, on dankkaarheid.
to Inhabit, b. w. He won en; if the
island was inhabited, indian her $.
efland bewoond was.
Inhabitant, z. do invoner.
inhûmats, by. on menſ: he jijk, bar.
baarsch. * w
Inhumanity, z. de on menſchelijk-
heid, wreedheid.
Initial , by. aanyankelijk, oor-
ſpronkelijk ; initial ideas , oor-
fpronkelijke demkheelden.
Injury, z, de beleediging, ſnaad,
Hoon , het on regt.
Ink, z. de inkt.
to knlist , enlist, b, w. aanwer-
ven ; he got himself inlisted,
hiſ liet zich can werves, (nam
djen f f). -
Inifiést, by, her kinnenſe; from
the inmost of his Heart, wit grond
van zijn hart; with inmost plea-
sure's met hartelijke blijaſchap.
Innäre, by. aangeboren.
Inner, by. in wendig.
Innocence, z, de onſchuld.
Innocent, b v. on ſchºldige.
Innoxious, by. onſchadelijk.
Innúmerable, by, on talbaar.
Innumerous , by. miet talrijk ,
ook on tºbaar.
to Inoculate, by, imanton.
to Inquire, enquire, b. W. maar
icts vragan , verne mén,
Inquiry, z. may raag.
Inscription, z. het ºp/chrift.
Insect, z, hot inſekt 2 gekaryen
dier tid. - - -
figur
intend some mischief to on” ”
- Aſ og re.
I N
toernemons ziffs
k199//en.
Inténtion , z. het voor memërt.
to Intercéde, o. we be middelen 2
ratſchen ſpreken, poor ſpreken ;
to — with heaven for him , der:
he ºxeſ yoor he ºn bidden,
Interest, z.hef voordeel, he t we Izijn
Interésting, by. Åe langrijk.
Interiºn , z. in the interim , in den
tafſchent if ds : ) buy, ondart as-
fehem, in tusſchen. .*
Intermédiate ,
space, tusſchenrtti ºn te.
Intermission, z. opſchor fing, af.
Breking, oph o udan ; without any
intermission, zomder verpoozing.
to interpose, b. w, be middle len.
Intërpreter, 2. de folk, warrale r.
to Interrupt, b. we afºreken, in
de rede vallen.
Interview , z. een mondgeſ rek.
to Interweave, b, w. doorwevsm,
doory lechter, 5 which he inter-
weave with branches, weike hiſ
met takken door plocht.
Intimate , by, vert rouwd.
to Intimate, b. w. aandaiden;
she intimated by signs, zij gaf
door ree keman te žew ven.
Intire, by gehael, gausch.
Intirely, by go he ellijk. -
to Intitle, entitle, b. w. regt ge.
ven , gereg tºgen. -
Into , va. in , op do wraag was r-
he sm 3 in.
Intolerable, by, onveraragelijk.
intolerabiy, by. onverdragelijk.
intréaty, z, ſneking, bedes tie
Entreaty. .. -
intºnsick, by. w zemlijk, inner-
*3 the intrinsick value, de
*ezenlijke waarde. -
femaad te
bv. tssſch sm ; -
* Introduce, b. w. invouren op
**** Plaats, s) in her geſprek
** Pas brangen.
Invéater,
J. V. 407
to Intrust, b. w. sever trouwen.
Inundation , z. de overſt rooming.
to Invāde, b. w. verheerem , yer-
wegften 2 aan tarter, 3 the island
was invaded , he t wil and werd
aa.ºrge valien.
Invaluable, by. onſ:hat baar.
to Invent, b. w, u if vinden. ... -
inventor, z. &e site
of r:46 r. . *
Invention, z. de uit vinding.
Inventor, zie Inventer.
Inventary, z. Jijst , inventarif,
Investigation, z. owderzoek.
Invisible, by. anzig föaar.
Invitätion , z, wit moodiging.
te linvite , b, v. s it noodigers.
Inward, by. in wer, dig.
Invölve , b. w. in wikkelen ; – in
difficulties, in moe ijelijkheden
wikkeien. r
Iron , z, iſ zer; mw. de ketenen,
boe iſ on ; to be put in irons , is
kefenen geſ!o ten worden.
Iron bar, z. eene ijzerem ſtang.
Irregular, by. on regelmatig, were
ward. -
Irresistible , by. on wedarſaan-
& a ar.
Irrèsolute , by. Beſſa i feloor.
is , (da 3 perſoon , enkel vows van:
den tegeniv. fijd van to Be,
złff, ) is . -
island, z, he fei land.
Issée , z. her gewolg, einde, de
aftſlag.
to Isstie , o, w. ten geyo Igen he b-
ben , tuftloopen, aſ it v feeijem 5
a burning matter issued, sene
bran dende foſſe vioside er wir.
It , (voornaamw.) het, herze?ve.
Itself, (voornaamw.) zelf, rich
zeiven; impossible in itself, in
zich zelve n on negelijk.
Ivory, z, het sipenbeen , ivo •r.
3 *
a
Jºck (eigen naan), Şakoš.
jacket, z. ean warn bais 2 B ºff.
J U.
to Jüdge, b, w, regten, oorãeet
welles, beſli'sſem, a be oc rāeeler.
3apanese, bv. japan sch, z. een Judgement, z, he geregt, fm zons
fapaneef, -
Jäws, z. mv. de kinnebakken.
Jénny (eigen naam), Şansje.
Jéwel , z. e6 it j u week , edelge-
fden te.
Jöhn (eig. naam), johanner.
to Join, b. w. bijvoegon , 2) ver-
bºdan , wereenig en , , 3) o. w.
2ich b if iemand bege yen-i to
join his master., bij zijn an ºn ces-
ter komen, 4) helpen 3 to
join in another’s work, ie mand
in zijn verk behalp zaam zijn.
Jöiner, z. een timmerman, ſchrijn-
werk &r.
Jóking, z. de ſcherts ; there would
...have been no joking, her zot, de
ge.cne ſcher tº getweest zijn.
Jöurney, z, de refs, dagre is , .2 )
esne reis re land, (voyage is
ceme re is ter zee ).
Jéy, z, wreugde.
Jöysul, by, yet blº; d, wrofijk.
Joyfully, by verblija, wrojijk.
jūdge, z, de regter.
K E
to Kéep, b, w. houdan ; to keep
pace, den pas he uden , 2) ba-
houdam, on de rho waem ; to keep
a fire, een yºutur on derhouden ;
to keep from , on thoudem , be: ;
hoºden ; to keep up, ophowden;
on derhoudem, in ſtand he aden;
to keep near the shore, lawgs
hot fºr and handen: to keep to
a reschätion , bij eam befluit
|Juggler, z. ean goo chelaar,
derheid het godde lijk geregé,
2) 0 or deel, overweging; a sound
judgement, een gezond oor deel.
Jüg, z, 66 he kan, kroeg , Kruik ;
an earthen jug, een aarden kam.
be-
drieger. . -
Jūice, z, ket ſap van plan ten.
Juicy , by, ſappigs
to Júmp, c. w. ſpringen., h up-
pe/en.
Jümp, z, de ſprong.
Júst, by. jurist, 2) regt vaardig.
Just , by. ju is t , even als.; just
-now , zoo eye m.
Jústice, z. de regiºvaardigheidi
to do justice, gereg tigheid la-
ten we derva ren. , 2.) he fge regt.,
de just it fe.
Jústly, buy. regt vaardiglijk ; thou
dealest justly with me , gij han-
delt regtvaardig met in jj.
to Jüt, o. w. Mitſºeken ; a stone
jutting out, een voorui ºffekesdº
feen.
K E
wolharden ; to keep at a place;
op eene pjaars blijven ſtadº
it would keep good, her zou."
goed blijven; to keep close tº
a thing, zieh bij witſluiting ºf
fe tº be zig houdan.
'Kéeping, z, de bewaring.
Këpt, o, t. en dw. van to Keep.
Kernel, z, dà kern van vruchte".
Kēy, z. ſleute! ; f. this is the º
9
gf
K I
of that conduct, dit is de ver-
Klaring van dat gedrag.
to Kick, b. w. met den poet ſchop-
pen.
Kick, z. een ſchop met dam voet,
Kid, z. ean fong gei rja.
to Kill, b. w. doedem , vermoor"
den, ombrengen , 2) ſlag ten,
Kiln, z. een oven ; a lime-kiln ,
een kalkoven. -
Kind, z, he t geſacht ; mankind,
her menſchelijk geſacht , a]
ds aard, ſoort ; a kind of fruit,
came ſoort van yrscht , 3) de
sard en de wiyze 5 in that kind,
'op die wif ze.
Kind, by vriendelijk, gee daardig.
to Kindle, b. w. sanffeken, aan-
branden.
Kindly , by, vriendelijk ; bv.
mild : a kindly beam, deme mi P-
de fraal,
Kindness , z. ºriendelijkheid ,
goedheid.
Ring, z, de koning.
Kingdom, z, her koning rijk.
to Kiss, b. w. kusſen , zoeneß,
X}ss, z. een zºen, kas.
*–
L. A
Labërious, by, werkzaafi ar-
beiðzaarn.
Labóriousness, z, werkzaamheid.
Lábour, z. de arbeid.
to Lábour, b. we arbeiden, werken.
Lábourer, Z. een arbeider, dag-
loom ar. * g.
Lice, z. de ſnoer, her koora,
de valſtrik. - -
to Läce, b. W. ſhoersm, roeſkoersm.
Läced, by, geboard ; a laced hat,
set, geiso orde hoed.
2
i
|
K R - 469
Ritchen , z. de Keuken.
Knack, z, de Bahendig heid, hand-
greep 5 the right knack, de wa-
re kunstgreep.
to Koéad, b w. Knesden. 4.
Knée, z de knie ; he fell on his
knees, hij vi el op zijne knian.
to Kneel , o, we knielen, meder-
knia Hen.
Knew , o, t. van to Know.
Knife, z. het mer.
Knob , z. de knol, bol.
to Knºck, b. w. (laam, k?oppews
to knock down, mederſtaan.
Knöt, z. de knoop.
to Knöw , o, w, ea b, w, waten,
s) kenner. -
Knowledge , z, kennis , kanda s
a great stock of knowledge, een:
groot a voorraad van kennis,
kande of vetenſchap, 2) wer
f6 n 5 without your parents’ know-
ledge , baiten weren yan awa
ouders.
Knówn, dw. van to Know,
Rnückle, z. de knew kel. .
Kracking , zie Cracking, her krºss
ken, -
L. A
Lºd, z. de knaap; my lad, dispe
jong 6 m 2) een jong sing.' ' *S*
Ladder, z. de Wadder, leers a
rope ladder, den four ladders
ſcheeps ladder.
Láden, dw. befaden. p
Lády , z. mavros w y wiſelişks
or 0 ſlºw.
Láid. dw. van to Lay.
Láin, dw. van to Lie, to Nye.
Lake, z, kes meer, de Riesse
$66e
L. l. Rºuma,
416 f. A
£ams, z, h 6: 7ama, ſchaapkameeſ.
to £amèat , b, w, bek/agen , o, w.
#3 age 7.
£8 mentable, by be klagenswaard;
1amentable looks, voice, klage.
#jk wif zigt , klagends fºem.
£amentably , by. op esne klage-
#ifke wift ze. -
£ained tâtion , z. klagt.
3.8 mp, z, &e 3 amp.
to land , o, w, lande a , aan ſand
# 4 af2.
3.3máing, z, het landen, de lam-
ding.
£ānguage, z, da taal ; his own
language , zijne eigen taal. *
to Languish , o, w, ſnachter,
kºi; a sm.
3LAnthorn, Iantern , z, de famfarem.
£3rge , by groof, (Jigchamelijk
groot).
H.&st, by. Jaats f ; last night, ver-
3e3ere macht , gister a y and ; at
fast, eia delijk. H
išst, by. Verl 6 dem , yoor kar fem
f if d, 6m lang f.
£e 3,83t, o. we du reh.
Làstly, bw. ten laatſºe, laatſºe.
lijk , 2) on ſangs.
Late , b v. vazrmalig , 2) #4at ºf ,
jongst ; his late misfortunes, zij-
me fongfe ongºl ukken.
14te, by. 144t , 2) on/angs, ook:
of Kate,
Lâtely, bv. laat; t , on langs; it
was but ſately, het is mog niet
lang g sleden.
3.hth , z. de lar.
Låtin, z, h of Jaffjn , de la fijn-
ſche taal ; by. Jat if nº ch; the
latin tongue, de la fijnſche taal.
Latter, by. verge] if kemde trap
wam late , later. -
Lāya , z, de Java. |
laudable, bº. loff, lijk.
to Långh , ( witgeſpr. aſs 1aaf),
L. E.
o. W. Jagzhen ; – at , oyer ,
0 m i e : 5. -
Langhter, Cuitgeſpr. als loafter),
Z. her lag chea.
to i.aunch, b. w. van ſtape! la-
fe # 10 open 5 to launch a vessel,
een ſchip —.
‘Láw, z, de Yvet.
Láwful, by. we frig, regt m'a tig.
Lay, o, t. yam to Lye.
to Láy, b. w. leggen 5 to lay hold.
&e hand &anſlaam , yat:en , rif-
pen s to lay in provisions, vo or *
raad in leggen.
Láy, z. een lied ; a morning lay,
gen m or genza mg.
Láyer, z. ee he laag, rij; a brick-
lāyer, een me tſelaar.
Laziness, z. In iheid.
Lázy, by. It # , fraag.
to Léad, b, w, leidon 5 to lead a
spring, een 8 bron le iden.
Léader, z. eam & am vocre r, Ice ra ar.
Léaf, z. her blad Î he tremb'ed
like an aspeal leaf, hiſ beefde
al; een riet , (eigenlijk als e ex
populi ºrblad).
Léague, z esne zsemifl, eene m ifl,
Léak, z, he r lek , de ſche ur ; the
ship had sprung a leak , het
fºhip had eem lek gek regen.
to Léan, o. we le unem ; to lean
one’s back, met den rag leu."
new, 2) zich on derffe unem.
to Léap , o, w. happelen, ſpringen,
Léap, z, de ſprong.
to Léarn, b. en o w. Jee ren; 2)
verne men , ery aren , zień.
Léarning, z. het Jee ren; diligent
in learning, ſeerza a ºn , 2) de gé"
Teerdhe id; he applied tolearning,
hij wilde geleerd worden, h’ſ
Hegde zich toe op we tenſchappeh.
Léast, (epºrtr. trap van little),
her, de kleiºffe, 2) het gering”
fº,
L E
fe, he t minfa ; the 1éast noise,
het m inſe geraas.
Léast, by, tea in inſte ; at least-
Léather, z. het jeer ; a leathern
glove, een leeren handſchoºn.
Léaye, z, wer) of, to effcm ming ,
2) hef affth ej d ; to take lèave,
afſcheid me tº em.
to Léave, b. w. la fen, verſa-
ten , 2) opko wa ºn 2 eak to
leave off.
Lé't , dw, ºn o. t. van to Leave,
Leſt, b v. Jir, kêr ; the left hand ,
de linker hand.
Lég, z, hot be m (van de he up
to t aan de 1 wax f.).
Lèggé d', by, two legged, twee-
Beem fg.
Légion, z, hºt leg feen, eigen lifk
50% o man, elke gº oot 3 troep
of k ende,
Léisure, z, is dige tijd in Iei.
sure hours, in yerlo reme oºge n-
bhikken 2) gemak ; at his lei-
sure, op zijn gen, a *.
Lêmon, 2. de Átroen, de limoen, |
f, I £ſº
Lêmonjuice, z, het ſtroenſap.
Lêmontree, z, de Átroenboom.
to Lênd , b, w, lee men y o or ſchie -
res ; to lend money, geld voor-
Jºhie ten ; 2) to lend assistance,
h alp bieden.
Lêngth , z, de lengte ; at full length,
in de vo!e jergre, 2) duur ;
the months are not all of equals
length, de maan des zijn mist
Allen eyen lang; 3) at length,
cindelijk, ten ſa at ſhe.
to Lèngthen, b. w. verſengen ,
Janger maker.
L*nt > 0. t. en dw. ran to Lend.
I-435 (vergel, trap yan little),
bv. Kleiner, in inder.
to Lessen, b. w. verminderen,
****** maker ; 2) o. waklei.
34 ºr 34's f de #,
Lèssoa , z, de je; ; in your geo-
| graphical lessons, in unue aard-
rijkskandige lesſer , 2) voor-
ſchrift , raad 3 be gave binº
many good lessons into the bar-
gain , hiſ gaf he ºn da are n boy tº
werſ: he i3, we goe de lesſen-
Lèst, (voegw.) op dist ni e i ; Tes?
he fall, op daf h if mist yaffe »
a; ; y raer dat hiſ ºr og f valiens.
to Lêc., b. w. Ja ten 3 let us sit
down, laat on 5 gaan zit sens
let us have it all, la at het on 5
geht e! h; bºre n . ( in de 38 erz
ſcort ge; if &s ſpreek w if zen worra &
he tº 'ege bic de ſide wif X; 2) toe-
late r , to 'ger en ; my parents
will not let une go, an if n e oa-
der f 10 illon mij niet Jaten gaans
Lêtter, z. brief
tº e tuce , z. ſalade, Jafaw, la to a by-
Level, by. vlak, effen , gel.jk.
Lèvel, z. eem waterp as , ( in 8tſ&-
(sars werk tuig). --
to Lével, b. w. gelijk of effers
maker; 2) to level a cannon 3,
een karºon rigte m.
Lèven , leaven, z. zu ardeeg.
Lêver, z. een hef boom.
Lèvity., z. I ig fainn igheid.
Liabie. by. Bloot gefeld , on dere.
worpe m x liable to be spoiled,
aan be der wing ender he wig, be-
doryan k annen warden.
Liar, z. een leagenaar.
Lhº eral, by the liberal arts,
prije kunftem.
Liberty, z, de vrijheid ; to ser
at liberty, op y rife yoet e º f el-
len, wrif late m ; liberty of con-
science, wrijheid yan hot ge-
% ºf 627, 8
Library, z, Boek verza mejing.
to Lick , b. W. Jikken , Jekkers.
Liê , 2, her iv og.
§or
412 L I
to Lié, zie to Lye.
Life, z, het leven; for his life,
voor zijn leven, zoo lief als
hij het leven had; the life to
some, het toekomende leven.
Lifeless, bv. levenloos, dood.
to Lïft, b. w. opheffen, verheffen,
Ligature, 2. het verband, de band.
Light, bv. ligt, niet zwaar.
Light, bv. licht, niet donker.
Light, z.. het licht.
to Light, b. w. aanſteken; - 2
fire, a candle.
bo Lighten, b. w. verligt en; in
order to lighten the ship, o in
het ſchip ligt er te maken.
te Lighten, o.. w. weerlichten,
blikſc me n.
Lightning, z. de blikſsºn, het
ºve er licht ; a flash of lightning,
een e blikſemſtraal.
Like , bv. gelijk, gelijkend; like
this Crusoe, gelijk de zen Cru- | |
ſoe ; like our Elbe, gelijk onze
Elbe ; the like of which he had
never heard , waarvan hij nooit
de weergade gehoord had ; and
the like , en dergelijken, 2)
hij na , met to Be en to Have 3 he
was like, he had like to fall, hij
was bijna gevallen.
Eike, bw, op gelijke wijze,
to L ſke, b. w. in iets behagen
vinden ; I like too see it, ik
zou de het gaarne zien ; I don't
like this R. , ik mag dien R.
niet lijden ; how do you like
the bath , hoe bevalt u het bad?
I should like, ik wenschte.
Likelihood , zº waarſchijnlijk-
heid; in all likelihood, maar
alle waarſchijnlijkheid,
Likely, bv. on bw, waarſchijnlijk.
Likewise, bw, insgelijks, op ge- |
lijke wijzes
L i
Liking, z. de neiging , lust, zin,
he had no liking to it, hij had
er geen zin in. -
Limb, z.. het lid, (van een lig-
chaam ).
1.ime, z. de kalk; shaked lime,
geblus oh te kalk.
Lime-kiln, z, een kalkoven.
Line-stone, z. de kalkſteen.
to Lïmit, b. w. bepalen , beper-
ken; he limits grief, hij zet pas
len aan de droefheid.
Limitátion, z. beperking, grenzen,
Llmon, zie Lemon, en volgg.
Line , z. e en e lijn, regel, 2) een
koord of ſnoer, 3) de linie, de
equator-
Lïnen , bv. van Winnen , z. het
linnen ; clean linen, ſchoon line
mengoed.
LAnenweaver, z. een linnen we ver.
Lïnseed, lïneseed , z. koolzaad,
lijnzaad.
Lion, z. de leeuwe,
Lip, z. de lip.
Liquor, z. het vocht, gedis te 'ser-
de drank, ſterke drank.
Lïsbon, z. Lisſabon, de hoofd-
ſtad van Portugal.
to Lksten, o.. w. luisteren, toe"
hooren.
Llterally, bw, letterlijk,
Literary, bv. letterkundig,
leerd.
Literary elements, z. mv. letter"
kundige grondbeginſelen.
Little, bv. klein, little folks, kine-
deren , 2) weinig.
Little, bw, weinig ; by little and
little , langzamerhand ; he little
thought , hij was ver van te
denken. -. »
to Lïve, o. w. leven , 2) won en ;
where Mr. C1. lives, waar de
hsor Cl, woont; 3) to live on
v y Afj
gd'
$2.
L O
was leven, zijn leven yeº on-
der howden, zich yoeden me? §
4) b. W. door leyan ; he lived
three whole years, one day like
the other. -
Livelihood, livelyhood, z, he bºr
f/aan, on der ho ud : to get an ho-
nest live ſhood, zich ean eerlijk
keftaan yerſthafen.
Liveliness, z, Joyen digkeid, ºr 9-
łijkheid,
Lively , b v. en by. 16 yeº dig , 98
genvekt ; – imagination, eene Vu"
rigo yerbeeldingskra chº.
Lives, ºnw. yan life, he le; eº-
Living, dw. van to Live ; a living-
creature, eon levendig ſchºpſº,
2) inv. de /cy 6 m des.
Living, z. het leven , het Jayenſ'
on derhoud, &effaan.
3.0 l (; usſchenw.) kij \ }.
Lóad, z. de last , vrach f.
to Lóad, b, w.-laden , beladen ;
2) — a gun , 6 cm ga weer Paden
Lóading, z, 68 ſad in g; there was
no ship in loading, er lag geen
ſchip in lading.
Ładstone, z. de zeilſfeen , mag-
12 & 6 º'.
Lºaf, z, he t (geheeſe) brood.
Lóath, by, afkee, ig.
to Lóath , b, w, em o. we ºvalget, ;
afkee rig zijn ; you loath a .
meat, gij waſg was een geregt.
!.6athsome , bv. valgelijk , af
ſchulwelijk. r - -
Lúavcs, mv. van, Ioaf.
Rock , 2, een ſlºt. - x *
to Lºck, b, w, ſuite nº to. loc
up, w8gſui ten. -
to Lodge, b, w, herbergen , kuis-l
westºn, 2), op eene plaats zijn ;
where the heart is lodged swaar -*-
hºt hart is,
tº 3ging, z, de Moning, hº ver- y
Ll 3.
blijf, 3) het masht verbää His
first night’s lodging-
Löfty, by, hoog a lofty mountairs
ee tº hooge berg -
Logwood, z, her campechthout ,
Brazilienhout ; the logwood-
tree, da boom agrº hatzelfdº
h o a f.
Löin, z, hot lenden- of zi asſ? &k
yan eon geſłachº dier.
to Löiter , o. vſ. le dig foope? »
ſlentere n : he was loitering about
the port, hiſ ſenterde largº 36
battery. - - -
Lônesome , by, senza atº, aſgé
zon der d.
Long, by, en by lang, uirg°-
fºrek t , 2) Jang van fifd3 *
long while , een lange siid's
long since, lang gé led sn-
to Long, o. wº. oerhanger , reik-
halzan 3. I long, it verſawg -
(met for en aſter), he longed
for rest, hij verſangde maar
rtist ; he longed for new sceties.
hiſ yerlangde naar mie & we foo"
neelers.
Longing, z, her verſangen , he ºr
re; kha/zº m s — by. en dw. lem-
ging eyes, verlangén de 00gets s
finachtende ooge".
to Loðk, o. we kijkers, (warrister
he t poor ºverp nab if is , Bezigº
wie m on of at,. Maxneer het aft-
ove zig is, for ; en 10am wear he sº
verwijderd is 2. after ; in ºbeñº
de laatſfe be teekenisſºn wards
hot ºverk waord geºmeenlijk ye z-
taald door; zeaken ; ws were
looking for some pebbels, wii
zoth ren keiffaun tjes); a) it looks
so fine, hea. Ziat ºr & 0 fragi .
Look, (tusſºhenw.) zfe käkkei,
gen!, do gehied, wif.ºyanººga's
- - Kock’
Looking-glass, z. een fpiegel.
Magazine, z. sem voor rºadh gis,
Máid, z, de neid; dairy maid,
414 I, O.
Look, z. sens blik, 6 egopſtag ; i.
mv. de gebarem.
Loom , z, de wave refloel.
Loose, z. de vrijheid ; by, los ,
im wrijheid,
to Loosen, b. w. openen, Iosma-
ken , op!osſen.
Lörd, z. de opperhear, de Heer.
to Löse, b, w, verſiezen.
Löst, z, hºt werlies ; 2) to be at
a loss, verlegen zija.
Löst, dw, en o. t. van to Lose.
Łodd, by ea byw. Juid, luid.
keels, oyer/uid.
to Lour, zie to Lower.
to Löwe ; b. w. bern immen.
Love , a, liefde.
Loving, dw. Jiefde rijk,
Low , by, en by, laag, 2) em-
diep 5 low water, de ebbe , 3)
onderſt 5 the lower part, he son-
derffe gedeelte.
Hour,
Os W,
to Lower, lowr,
M. A
Mäd, by. onzännig, ziane loos.
Máde, dw, en e. t. van to Make.
Madman , z. ean kraukzinnige,
dolleman,
magazija.
TMagnanimous, by...gºd of mee&g.
Magnètick , by. the magaetick
needle, do magneetmaald.
Magnificent, by. Prachtig.
malkmeid's servant maid, dienst.
meid. -
Majëstick, by, tº aſ estaeus, a
*
E, U'
duit fºr zijn ; thunderclouds that:
lower, zwarte dondarwolken.
ſ.ück, z, dew to eval ; good luck,
een gelakkig too ya!.
Lückily, by, gelukkig , b if ge/uk.
Lücky, by, gelukkig.
to Lüll, o. ºn b. w. in flaap vie-
gen 5 who lulled my mind 3 wie
felde mijnen gees t gerust 3-
Lump , z. ean kilomp 5 lump of
gold, een-goadklom.p.
to Lürk, o. we verborge m lºggen,
loe refs; to lurk in the dark, is
he falo n, ker romaſ! wipen.
Lüstre, z. eam ſchi; m, estie ſchs-
maring.
Luxtiriance, fuxuriancy-, z, over.
vloed, overdaad.
Luxáriantly, by. overdadig , , o-
very loea ig, we elde rig.
Luxárious, by. 9 verda dig , zwe?,
gend. -
Lüxury , 2, overdaaé, ºceſse 9,
zwałge rij.
to Ly, lie , o, w, liggen.
M A
Majesty, z. majeste it, de hoogfa.
waardigheid en mag f, de tité!
aan monarchen gege ven; his
majesty, Z. M.
Máin, by. het yoornaamſfe, g root-
fe : the main sea, de hooge 266;
z. the main , he t waste land a
ook the main land.
TMain mast, z. de groote théff.
to Maintáin, b. w. onderhoudam F.
in ſtand houdan, handhave tº.
Mäize, z, tarksch koorn. \
to Make , , b, w. maken; to make
haste; zich hagstan, ſpeede” #
JEG
INT A.
to make one's prayers, biddêrº. ;
to make a journey, ee ne reis
doen ; to make an escape, on t-
ſnappen, to make all sails, alle
zeilen bijzetten ; to make ship-
wreek, ſchipbreuk lijden , 2)
in dan zeevaart beteekent to
make, aan e ene plaats komen ;
they made the mouth of the
Thames, zij bereikten den mond-
van de Teams ; to make the
nearest land, het staas te lang'
bereiken ;, to make the shore,
het land naderen; 3) he made
him suffer, hij deed hem ?ij.
den ; 4) o.. w. to make up to
one , op iemand aangaan, hem
naderen, to make up to a ship,-
een ſchip naderen, ook to make
towards a sbip.
Making , z.. het maken, maakſel ;
an umbrella of his own making,
een regenſcherm van zijn ei-
gen maakſel.
Malicious, bv. koosaardig:
Mallet, zº een groote zware hamer.
Man, z. de mensch, 2) een En art,
3) een ſchip; a merchant - man, j
dy 6 p? koopvaarder, koopvaardijs
ſchip 3 a man of war, een oor-
lugſchip.
to Mà nage, b. w. voeren, beſta-
**n 3 to manage a boat, eene
boot beſturen.
Management, z. de bewerking ;
the management of the fields, de
akkerbouw. €
Man eater, z. een menſche meter,
to Màngle, b. w. verſcheuren-,
've run in kan. •
Manifold, bv. menigvuldig,
Mankind, z.. het mensch dont.
Mànly, bv. mannelijk, Aerk, 3A S
manly resolution, een vast be -
ſluit , he behaved manly, hij ge-
Måss, z. de masſa ;
droeg zich braaf,
M A 4 IS
Mànner, z; de wijze, ºm snie r; ita?
the same manner, op dezelfde wij-.
ze ; in such a manner, zoodanige
Màny, bv. vele, :
Msuy, z. een aantal, a great
many of them , velen hun n er »
een groot aantal van hun.
Màny times, bw. dik wij#s.
MIàp, z. de landkaart , zeekaars,.
zee kaart, beteekent ook seamap.-
March , z. de marsch , de tog t,
oſ? #bg t..
to March, to march off, o, w. nnares
ſcheren, aftrekken.
Mariner, z. zec in a ne, xmatroos.
to Màrk , b. w. om erken , te 6 kos
ts en, aan teekenen. ''
TMark, z. e e n t e eke ºr.
Market , z. de zn arkt.
Marnötto, marmot , z.. het mora-
mel dier. -
Màrtial, bv. krijgszuchtig; mar-
tial exercises, krijg soefeningen,
Marvellous , bv. wonderbaar.
Màsh, mesh , z de malie.
Mask, z.. het in orn, masker-
to stir the !
mass, de masſa om roeren, -
Màst, z. de mast boom , ds ºn ast..
Màster , z. de heer; her master
and mistress, haar heer en vrouw,
2) de vrees ter, 3) de kapiteins
van een ſchip.
to Master, b, w. zich (van eens
zaak) meester maken, z) be -
he 6 rſche n.
Mat, z. e ene mat ; a bass rnat ,
eene has t mat.
Match, z. een zwavelſtok, s) ee-
me lont ; he clapt the burning
match to the touchhole, hij
bragt de branden de lont aan
het zondgaf , 3) de pit van eas
me lamp. - '-
Match, z, een wedſtrijd,
L. 1 4
Mºſ E.
4 ió.
to Mátch, b. we gelijk zijn ; to
match one in Swimming, even
zoo goed zºve me, en aſs een
ar, der. -
Máte ; 2. de faurman 3, the first
mate, de eerſte futurman.
Matérial, by. ºvexenlijk.
Matérials, z. mv. bouwſtoffen, bse
noo dig dhe den ; materials for wri-
ting, ſchriffgerged/chap.
Matrass, mattrass-, z. een 6 m at raf.
Matter, z. de ſº offe ; the melted
matter, de geſnoite me ſtaffe,
2) het voorwerp ; on this matter,
over dit onderwarp; what’s the
matter s- w at if her 2, he made it
a matter of conscience, hij maak-
te cree # * g ewe ten i zaak van ;
it is no matter of doubt, he t lifdt
geen swijfel ; what was the mat-
ter with him 2 wat he m ſchort #3;
Matúrely, by, rijpelijk; matáre-
ly considered, rijpeiijk over-
nvogº ºn
Maxim, z. eene' gron dffelling.
Máy, I may, (onvoll. werkw. ) ik
mag , 2) ik kam , met 092.Ég:
to t e ea igen wo or af, egg vene:
raad of ºvensch , de vrijheid
en mag t on, iefs tº doen s, you
may begin, gif k & ºf beginnet,
you may easily thirk, gif k unºf
Jigt begrijpen s may be, * *an
2ijn, misſchien , 3) als hulp-
wer kw.0 m de bij woeg, wifze to
yo role n : it was probable there
might be more good children ,
ovaarſ; hiſ n lijk. kondºn, er meer
goede kindere m zijn , 4) on ee-
... men wensch te uiter.
Mé, (perſoonl. voornaamw.)
Méal, z, he t maal , de maalsijd.
'Méau, bv. 16, ag 2 gé thee he
Méan , z, he t middal, meet in
het mesry, he walk als enkely.
mif.
M E
words dange merkt ; by this.
means, by that means, do or dit,
dat middel; by means of, door
middel yam : by all means, on-
get wiſfeld ; by no means, in
he fge heel miet.
to Méan , b. w. denkan, meeties. 3
what do you mean 2 wat meen F.
gij ż 2) badosjen, meen sm.
Méaning, z. de meening , he tee-
kanj; ; what is the meaning of
that , ºvat be teekent dat? 2)
ké f voorn 6 men , de gezin dheid.
Mèasure , z. 36 maat ; in some
mèasure, een igg rmate, 2) m w.
maatregelém 5 to take measures,
maa frege Jen me mem.
Méat, z. vleesch (yoor ſpijs),
roast meat, gebraad 2) ſpij's
in het algemeen.
Mcch: nick, by. Iverk taige lif
2) z. een handwerker,
bach f ; man. -
Mêdºcine, z. genees middel ; by
proper medicines, door gap 45 tº
rº, fººd elem.
VI* divātion , z. overder:king.
Meekress, z. de zachºmoedigheid.
to Meet , b. w. on timo & ten 5 to
meet one, jemand —, 2) or w.
met with , ºan treffan ; he met
with one of his comrades, hij
von d elem’’ xijnor kamera dem;...to
meet an adven.ure, een ayon"
ruar befege men. r
Méeting, z, de verzameling, yº”
gadering, bije enko mºst.
Mélancholy , by... tre urig, drº-
vig., zwaarm, aedig. -
to Mêlt, b, w, ſmelten 3 melted
matter, geſtmoltene masſa. . .
Mèmber, z. het lid, 2) issão ſid,
Mémorable, by. denkwaardig
merkwaardig. +
Memórial, z, dent gedºm *:s
t
i
kº
& fri-
M I
Mēmory, z, hat geheugen, 2) de
ge dachte mis.
Men, mv. van Man.
to Ménd, b. w, verbe teren, be-
£er makes, 2) onz, w. heter
worden. ;
Mental, by, werftandelijk; mental
faculties , — vermogens.
te Měntion, b, w, ºne Iden, gews-
A 6m s above-meuticned, $976 a-
ge meld. *
Mèrchant, z. sen Koopman.
Mèrchantman, z. oen koopy aardij-
ſchip.
Mèrciful, by, Farnharfig , ge-
madig.
Mercy, z, genade, on tſer ming ;
heaven, have mercy upon us ,
#emeſ, on tPerm u onzer f
Mère, by enkel, Io a ter; mere
goodness, niets dan goodheid,
Pouter genade.
Mérely , by enkel, alleenlijk,
ſ!echts.
Mèrit , z. verdienſe.
to Merit, b, w, verdienen.
Mertićrious, by. verdi enjºelijk.
Mërry, by, wrojijk, Juid ruthrig,
*Pger wind, 2) grappig.
Mèssenger, z. een bode.
*...* tº en äw van to Meet.
tal. 2 2, ºne taal, , ſº ºf
de fºof. • Bergſºof,
Méthod, z, de learwijze 2 *artis r,
orde, in rig ting.
Mexican, by, Maarikaansch,
Middle, by, en byw. middenst, in
het midden zijnde, midden.
Middle, z. her midden, her mid-
dolffe gedee're, ***
Midnight, z. de middernacht.
*idst, 2. he midden ; in the midst.
of, t e midden van.
*ight , o, t. van to May.
M I 457
Might, z. de magf, krach # 5 with
all might, uit alle mag t-
Mighty, by. mag tig , ferk- -
Mild, by. mild, liefderijk, 2)
zacht moedig ; with a mild voice,
met eene zach to , liefelijke ftern-
Mildly, buy. zachtm oediglijk.
Mildness, 2. zacht moedigheid.
Military, by. ſoldaats , oorlogs,
krijgs; the military life, het
folda ten leven , de ſoldsten-
fand.
Milk, z. de melº,
to Milk, b. w. ºn s?kew.
Mill, z. de molem; the windmitſ,
de windmo'em s a handmill, eers'
hand molen. *
Miller, z. de m plenaar; the mil-
ler’s boy, de knecht vais déº-
Million , z. eene milioen, 2) eem.
groot get al.
Mind, z, het gemoed, 2) do sei-
ging , last, zin 3 to have a
mind , last kehāen 5 it went en-
tirely to his mind, alles ging
maar zijnen zim,2) her innering;
to put in mind, te binnen bran-
gen , 4) de ziel, 5) de gedach-
te, vo erſtelling ; in his own
mind, bij zich ze lyeh, in zij-.
me gedachts,
to Mind, b. w. achſ geven op s.
acht ſlaas eps to mind one’s.
way, op zijnen weg letten s
minds me! hoor maar mij : 2)
zich on ists he kemme ren; to
mind only one’s own pleasures,
Aechts op zijn eigen vermaak
bedach t zijn i never mind! her
# , ºries met al dº a r is nies a ane-
ge leg ºn J zorg daar mist voor "
Mindful, by, gedachsig, 2) op-
merkzaam. *
| Mine, (voornaamw. van bezitting),
ls i 5
he f 2 *
M. O.
to Möderate, b. w. matigen ; to
möderate one’s grief, zijne
droef haid ma tigen.
Möderately, by. matiglijk.
Modest, by, aederig, zedig, be-,
feheidem. r
Modesty, z. beſcheidenheid, 22.
zed igheid, ſcha am te ; one of
our R2s. principal virtues was.
modesty, een der hoofdde weden
van onzen R. was de zodigheid.
Möisture, z. vochtig heid.
aan do ºn 2 Jastigº
ya? la m.
off frt, tºg ºn 2
Möinent, z. het oogenblik.
418 M O
ket, de, hiftie 3 this head of
mine, mijn hoofd.
*line, z. eene mijn, gro ef.
Miner, z. ean mijnwerker, berg.
werker. > -
Miniature, Z. in miniature 2. " in
her klein, -
Minister, z. a - of state , een
Jaafsdienaar. •.
Minute , z. de minuat.
Miniſtely 2 by. maauwke urig ,
maa awgezet. .
Miracle, z, wonderwerk.
de raadig. , º, . . .
Miraculously, by, wonderbaarlijk.
Mirth, z, wreugde, wrojijkheid,
blijdſchap. - -
Miscarriage, z. misſlag, mislukking
Mischief, z. een ongelak, 2) ſº ha-
de , made el , kavaad.
TMiserable,
Jen dig. -
Misérably , Bw; ongºlaškiglijk ,
*
bv. ongelukkis, el-
jammerlijk. -
Misery, z, de ellenda.
Misfortune, z. h.c.; ongel uk.
to Miss , b, w, on the ren, mir-
ſen 2 verini's ſºn ; he missed the
salt, hiſ misfe het zoat, a Yºni et
treffan , m fr/en'; he missed tas
mark, hiſ miste het doe/.
Mist, z, de nevel.
to Mistake, b. w. het eene woor
het andare aanzien , mistas-
ten ; he mistook it for, hij zag
her aan voor — , 2) o. wo diva-
len, zich vergisſºn : ook to be
mistaken, mis he blem.
Mistäke, z. eese mistasting , wer-
gi ºffmg.
Mistóok, o, t. van to Mistake,
Mistress, z, de meetteres.
to Mix, b. 'w. vermengº we .
Mb Ierate, by, gematigd,
ſ h eiden.
l
to Molèst, b. w. k wellen , !eed
Miraculous, bº, wonderbaar, won- ||
†
a) *- \
Monarch, z, de vors t, manarch.
Möney, z, gem unt geld; english
money, engelſche mant.
Mönkey , monky, z. ean sap.
Mönsters. z. eam ged rage.
Monstrous, by gearog relijk, wrees-
felijk ; the same monstrous wave,
dazolfäe ſchrikkelijke golf.
Month , z, de maand. .
Monthly, by. maandelijksek , by-
maandelijks.
Monument, z, ket gedenkreeken-
Močd , z. de gemºed ºffenming, 2
l tui m. - -
Modin , z, de tº 4 a.m.
Möral, by, zedelijk. -
Morality, z. zedelijkheid, a) de
zedek unds. : .
Móre, (vergel, trap van Much),
meer ; more time, langer.
Móre, by. me ºr ; (; of worming.
van dam overt". trap van ſom-
mige by.) more sensible, geyaſ-
liger; 2) six guing as more, hºg."
6 guinea f.
More over, buy, d6 arenhoven.
Mörning , z. de morgen , mºre
ge ºffo 7 d ; the morning light, he f
morgenlight.
º Mor-
M o
Morrow, z, de dag van 'ºnorgen ;
bw, to - morrow, morge ºf 3
morrow morning, morges ochren d
Mörsel, z, eene & ere, een mandyo!.
AMortal, by ſterfeliſk, 2) doedelijk
to '
i
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Motintainous ,
M-U 419
mount a hill, eemen #4 r8 &e-
k} i ºn em.
Möuntain , z. ſeem berg.
bv. beryachtig ;
mountainous countries, &erg achs
rige landſ#reken. ^,
to Möurn , o. we tre wren , be
dro efd zijn. --- -
Motirnful, by. ºre a rig.
Mournfully, by, treurig, dreevi's,
Mouth , z. de mond, de in air,
(van menſchen en die ren), 2)
de mond eaner rivier, the mouth
of the Thames , de mosé yau de
Tse ris. - *
Möuthful , z. e8# in and v of.
Włłich , by, vee ſ; with much ade,
an et v 8 el meeira ; 2) b wa veel ;
in so much , yoor zoo yes!, veer
200 y 62°2'4's ->
Müd , z, flik, modder.
Målberry, z. moe., bezie ; paper.
mulberrytree, de papier in berba -
zie nº corn;(morus papirifere Lin).
to M. ltiply, b, w, vermeerde rem;
o, w, zith verm garde ren.
AIaltitude , z. men igta, 2) de
groote hoop , 3) he fge mean.
jºyſ ºrder, z. de moord.
to Murder, b, w, moorden, ver-
trio ords n.
Murmur, z, het gets wrtnel, geºmor.
to Murmur, o. we morrem , mwr-
IMörtally , bºw, deo delijk ; mortal-
ly wounded, do odelijk getvond.
Mortar, z. de me tſalkalk.
Moschito, moschetto, z. sese ſoort
van kwaddaar dige ºn uggen in
Ameriša, maskiet.
Mºst, by. (overtreff. tr. van Much)
meest , de, het meeste; the most
part, haſ meerendeel , als by.
most of them, de meestan han-
2:8 ºr ; most of his time, zif a
me efte tijd. •
Móst, by, in eemen hoogen graad,
zeer; most excellent, zeer yowr-
treffalijk , (voor denige b v. om
den overtreff, trap aan te dui-
den j most drèadſul, allerſchrik-
kelijks f).
Mother, z. de moeder.
Møtion, z. de heweging.
Motionless, by be weging loor.
Mºtive , z, de betweegoorzaak.
Mötto, z. de leuze, ſpre uk, het
2?: 0 f fos - ~
to Móve, by, bewegen, in be we-
ging brangen, 2) aandoen, on t-
roerem , 3) o. we in betweg img
zijn , zich bewegen ; we reove
alone in thee, door a alleen le-
yen wif. -
Móving, dw a movic.g sight, een
treffend ſcho nºw ſpel. ---.
Riêult, z, de fjme aards, 2) de
puim ; he soon got out the
mould, hij had het fuin wel-
has ster witgewerkt.
to Möunt , o, w, opklim men ,
*Hmmºn, fijgen, zich werhºf.
fºº # 2) b, w, beklin man s to
cº’
l
me!en , (ºner at voor eene zsak,
en against 200 ree men perſoon).
Muscle, z, eene mosſel ; a muscle
shell, eene mosſ, ſchelp.
to Mūse, o, w, ous r iets maden-
kém, in diepe seduchten zijn.
Músing corner, z. de peinshoek.
Másick, 2. de fºomkunst, maxijk.
Mūsket, z, een ſhaphaan ; a mus-
ket ball , sen geweerkogel.
Músiin, 2, het, nefeldock.
-- Mūst,
42O M U P.
Müst, (onvolledig werkw, en al.
tijd onveranderl.) moe rem.
Mátineer , z. &en oproer maker ,
+), ui ter. . . .
Mútiny, z, het oprogr, dam uiterij.
to Mútiny, b. w. m. uirem.
Mutual, by, we derzijdsch ; mutual
affection , we derzijdſche liefde.
N E
Náil, z. magel, ſpijker.
to Náil, b. w, ſpijke ren.
Náked, by. maak t , on hekleed.
Náme, z. de maam ; what in the
name of wonder, war tach , in
*; he mels ºf a gºn.
to Náme, b. w. moe men.
Nameless, by. maam loor.
Nappy, (eigen naam), Antje.
Narrátion, z. verhaal, vertelſe?. .
TNarrow, by. maauw, eng; a nar-
row passage, eem tº aauwe door-
g og f.
?Narrowly, by. maa’awelijk: , fer
ha au we r n ood. l
Nātion, z. het volk, d8 mafie,
Native, by. his n&tive climate,
zijn gaš o 0rteland.
Nātive, z. een inboorling.
Natural, by. m at u wr/ijk; a natural
way of living, eene met de na-
swur overeemko inſtige - levens-
owijze s 2)
phy, de mat a wrkwn de; natural
history, de natuarjijke geſt hie-
den is
Naturally,bw. mat a urlijker wiyze.
|
:
{
|
.
|
|
r
natural philoso-
Náture, z, de mat war, 2) de ei-
M Y
Müzz'e , z, de mond y an een fluk
geſch it.
My (bezitt. voorn, witgeſp. als
mi, dach , met bijzonderem ma-
drak, alf mai), mijn , miſne.
Myself, (voornaamw.) ik zelf,
mij zełvan.
N E
Navigation, z, de ſcheepvaart ,
1944?" fe
Navigator, z. de zed vaara!er, zee-
Žſ 47, a
Náy, by. meem ; 2) als. voegw.
ze if , ; a , nay, when he had
been diligent in learning, ja ,
wamme er hij vlijtig had avija
!en jeer em.
Néar, vz. na ; b w. mabij.
Near, by. ma , digt bij , nabi; ;
the nearest way, de na 3 ste weg ;
2) buw. b if n a 3 near as good ,
b ºn a zoo goed ; not near so
great, op veryc na zoo gre 04
ni ef.
Néarly , b wa bij, ten maas re bij,
0ng £y 6 cre
Néat, by. zindelijk , fraai, moof,
#76 ºf . ſ
Něcessaries, z. m.w.. be moodig dhe den
Něcessary, by. moodzakelijk.
Necessity, z, moadzakelijkheid,
2) behoefte , gebrek. -
Něck , z, de he J3 s de me? § 2) A
neck of land, eene Jandtong ,
landemg te,
Néed, z. de mood; without need,
onnoodiglijk ; to be in need of
a thing, ie tº moodig hobben ,
ook to have need , 'to stand in
gen aardige geſt eldheid, aard.
Nâtured, by. geaard; good na-
tured, go cala ardig.
RNavigable, by be vaarbæar.
great need of a this.&-
tº
y
N I
to Nečd, b. w. behoeven . noo dig
hebbem, o. we reden hebben .
oorzaak hebben tot jets ; he
needed not, hij had geene re-
'den om — ( ſo ºn tijds me t , ſom-
rājas zon der to),
Néedſul, b v. noodzakelijk.
Nečdle, z. de maald; the magne-
tick needle, de magnee ºn said. .
Nicédless, by."moode loos, off moodig.
Néeds , by. mood zakelijk, mood-
zakelijker w if ze.
to Neglèct, b. w. perz ui men, yer-
on a éh za mºm.
Négroe, z. een neger.
Něighbouring, 'bw. mab a rig.
Néither , (voegw.) noch, 2) ook
ºiet ; I neither, ik ook niet.
Neither, (voornaam.) geen , mi e-
mand.
Něst, z, cer, mºst.
Nét, z. ean net.
Nětting , z, a 1s een wet genverkt.
Net maker, z. een met tenbreider.
Netneedle, z. een netbre in aałd.
Ně ver, by. no of t , . m immer; never
one, geen enkel in aal.
Nevertheless, by. 'nier tem in.
New , b v. mie ww.
New - Foundlands z. Terreme uye ,
JVewfoundland.
Newly , by. on langs, feder r kor-
ten tijd.
News, z. m.w.. mie uws, nieuws tij-
dimg , 2) marigº.
Next, by. maast, daaropwolgend;
the next day, den bolgemden dag.
Nice, by. witgezocht, lekker; a
nice piece, een fifn ſº skje, 2)
Jekker, moeijelijk te beyre digen
Night , z. de nacht, de a von d >
at nightſall, bij het aambreken
van den dog.
N\tmble, by. Vlug, rap.
Wine by, negen,
*.
t
N O
Nineteenth, by negentiende.
Ninth, by. aegende.
No , by, neem 2) niet ; no more,
no longer, siet meer, miet
langer. -
No, by, geen; no body, geen
men'ſ ch , niemand; by no means,
in geemer/si wifze.
Nóble , by. werheyen, adel ; it
looks so noble, he f faat z86
ſchoon zoo edel.
to Nod, o. we met het hoof?
km ikken.
Noise, z. het geraar.'
Nö je , b v. geen ; it is none of my
faults, he f is nie? onder mijne
ge breken , geen mijner geb re-
ken, (het is mijne ſchuld hist),
Nonsense , z, onz in , warra als
one thinks of nothing but non-
sense, men denkº aqn inier's dam
gek he id. 4” *
Noðn , z. de middag ; forenoon º
voormiddag; afternoon, achter-
middag s 2) by. middag, the
noon sun , de middagzon ; noon
day, de middag.
Nor , (voegw ) noch.
North, z.-het no orden, 2) noord-
waarts , no ordelijk, roor&s
the northsea, de noordzee,
Nose, z. de meas.
Nöt, buy. , i.er.
Nötch, z. de kerf, inſheds.
Nöthing, by, niets ; to be good
for mothing, tot miets deagen;
it is nothing to the , het raakr
m if mist.
Nótice , z. be migrking, achi ; to
take notice of a thing, op is ty
acht gºven, op 'iers letten. -
Nótion, 2. de inval, her denks
be eld,
421
f
+
'Notwithstanding , (voegw.) nies.
regenſ hands. * *
M in Něe
N O
Nºvige, z. een nieaweling, Heer
ding. -
to Nºurish , b, w, voedem; the all
nourishing hand of Providence,
go alvoe.demde hand der Poor-
ziemigheid.
422
Nourishment, z. het yoedſel, de
Jeyens middelen. -
TNow, by. nu, thans ; 2) now
and then, ºu en dam , van tijd
to r tijd; now a days, he dendaags.
86 where, by. mergens.
~.
*…*
N U
Nówise, bºw. in geener lei wiſza.
Noxious, by ſchadelijk.
Nümbed, (zie Benumbed ) dw. van
to numb , verſ?ijoen.
Number, z, hat getal, 2) het aan-
tal, de men igte; in number,
geta}.
Nûmberless, by. talrijk.
Númerous, by. talrijk.
Nut, Z. de no of ; cocoanut , ko-
koino of a hazelnut, hazelno ot.
O B
O C
O, oh! (tasſchenw.) of
O”, in plaats van of.
Oaken , by. ejken, van eißen hout;
oaken bark, eike m ſchors,
Oir, z. de riem.
Oath, z. de eed.
Obédience, z, de gehoorzaamheid.
Qbédient, by, gehoorzaam.
Obédiently, by. met gehearºaam-
heid. Af
to Obéy, by. gehoorza mem.
to Objëct, o. we tegenwerpingem
makem, tegenſpreken.(against, to)
Objection, z, tegenwerping.
Obligătion , z, de verpligting.
to Oblige, b, w, verpºig ten, 2).
ie ºn and diem ºf doem # 3) to be
obliged, genoodzaaki Zijº.
obscure, bv. donker, duitter.
to Obscure, b. w. verdonkerem.
Observátion , z. de vaar meming , .
in achtmeming, 2) de be mer-
king, aanmerking.
to Obs?rve, b, w, waarménez ,
bemarken, beſchouwen.
observer, z. een waarmemer.
Obsolete, by. were aderd.
Obstacle, z, gene hinderpagł.
to Obtain, b. w; verkrijgen, be-
ko mem.
Obvious , by. Klaarſ lifkelijk, oo-
gen ſchijn?ijk ; for two obvious
reasons, weg cn: ; was klars re-
- demen.
Occision , z. g6 legenheid; on this
octasion, bij de z8 – ; 2) to have
occăsion for, moodig hebben,
behoevgm. *
to Occásion, b. w. vero orzaken ,
re weeg brewgen.
Occasionally , by, gelegenlijk, toe-
valliger wiſze, bij ge legenheid.
Occupétion , z. be zigheid.
to Occur, b. w. bef ege men , 2) os
w. zich opéo en , voorkomen,
zich toe dragen ; there occurred
so many occupations, er kwarment
zoo yele bezigh edem op, 3) in
her geha agen komen , fe bin men
fehi etan ; a new thought occur-
red to him, h if k warn op eene
nieuwe gedachte.
Ocean, z, de oceaan, de were 14-
zoe; the Atlantick ocean, de st-
lantiſºhe zee.
| Odd, by. zonderling , raar, won."
alara
..Er
O MI
derlijk; that's very odd, dat is
heel raar, odd gestures, zn alle
gebaarden ; 2) odd , oneven,
overblijvende, some odd minu-
tes , e enige overblijvende mi-
V73 / 6 ft. ,
Odour, z. de reek.
Cf, vz.(het teeken van den tweeden
naamv. of genitiv.); the ties of na-
ture, de banden der nat u ur,
2) van ; of it, daarvan, van
het zelve, 3) uit, consisting of
young folks, beſtaande uit jon-
ge lic dec , 4) of late, onlangs,
Off, bw. weg , ver van, wordt
achter verſcheidene werk voor-
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 Ri t ze battel.
to Offènd, b. w. bele edigen.
Offènded, dw. en bw, beleedigd ;
his offended parents, zijne ge-
krenkte ouders.
Offènce, offènse, z. de bele ediging.
to Offer, b. w. aanbieden ; to of-
fer one's prayers to God, zijn
gebed tot God op zenden, 2)
zich onderſtaan ;
make resistance, het wagen ove-
de rſtand te bieden.
Oſlice, z. h et az: ht.
Officer, z.. een beambte, effi: ier;
officer of justice, een geregts-
dienaar.
Offspring, z.. een nakomeling, de
nakomelingſchap.
Often, bw. dikwijls.
Oh ! zie O.
- Oil , z, de olie.
Oilet, z. een rijggaatje.
Old , bv. oud. -
to Omrt, bw, uitlaten, weglaten
to offer to
O N
omniposent, bv. almagtig.
Omniprèsent, bv. alomtegenwoºr"
dig. we
Omniscient, bv. alwetend.
On, vz. op aan, (van tijd) ; off
a fine summer's evening, op een
ſchoon en zomeravond , (vàn
plaats); on board, aan boord,
on the grass plot, op de groene
plek, on deck, op het verdek ,
on his way, op zijn en weg , hè .
fell on his knees, hij viel op
zijne kni en ; 6) on fire, in den
bránd, ? ) on't, on it, daar-
van, daaraan ; 8) on a sudden,
eensklaps, on purpose, moed-
willig. - ,
On, bw. verder ; and so on, en
Z00 voorts, 2) voort, to go on,
voortgaan , voortvaren 5 to
work on , voor tarbeiden , 3)
aan ; he put his clothes on , hij
deed zij ne klee de ren aan.
Once, ( uitgeſpr. als wonce), bw.
eens, eenmaal : there was once,
er was eens, 2) ſlechts een 1, 3)
te gelijker tijd ; at once, op
een maal , 4) eertijds-
One, ( uitgeſpr. als wone), bv.
één ; every one, elk een , ieder
een , 2) als te lwoord, is one of
them, is een daarvan , 3) in
betrekking o5 e enig voorafgaand
naamwoord, in welk geval het
in het hollandsch niet vertaald
wordt; the only surviving one ,
de e enige in het leven geble-
vene ; a young one, een jong ,
4) sls eene on bepaalde perſoon
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, esnig ; their
only child, hun eenig kind, s)
MI. En 2.
443
* R.
bur.
424 O R
bw. enkel, alleen lijk. ſlechts ; !
there only remained, er bleef
ſlechts 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.
Q-Pening, z. de opening.
Operation, z. de onderneming,
Opinion, z. de meening.
Opportunity, z. de geſchikte ge-
legenheid,
Opposite, Vz, tegen over ; oppo-
site to each other, tegen over
elk andere
Opposite, bv. tegen over gelegen,
the opposite shore, de tegen o .
ver liggen de kust, de overzijde.
Cºpprèss, b. w. onderdrukken ;
his oppressed breast, zijne be-
klemde borst ; oppressed with
grief, overſtelpt van droefheid;
oppressing, drukkend.
Opprèssion , z. de onderdrukking,
2) neerſlag tigheid.
Option, z. de keuze, het goede
vinden,
Or, (voegw.) of
Orchard, z. de boomgaard.
to Ordá in, b. w, ſchikken , ba-
ſluiten.
Order, z. de orde , 2) het bevel ;
3) in order to , om te , met
y 0 0 r ne in 6 m2 0 n! •
to. Order, b. w. in rigten, ver-
ordanen, 2) bevelen, gebieden,
Orderly , bv. regelmatig , orde -
lijk, bw. regelmatiglijk, or-
delijk. -
Ordinary, bv. (gemeen lijk uitge-
ſproken als Ordneri), bv. res
gelmatig, 2)gewoon, gewoonlijk
O V
Ordinarily, bv. gewoonlijk, op de
gewone wijze,
Ore, (oar), z. erts.
| Original, bv. oorſpronkelijk ; ori-
ginal history, oorſpronkelijke
geſchiedenis. --
Originally, b w. oorſpronkelijke.
Origin, z. de oorſprong.
Otàheite, z. het eiland Otzheite
in de Zuidzee.
Other, bv. ander. "-
Otherwise, bw. anders, 2) op ee-
ne andere wijze.
Oven, z. een oven.
Over, vz. over.
Over, b w. over, over heen , a
trip over to England, een uit-
ſtapje naar Engeland ; over
against, tegen over , 2) over ,
voorbij , uit , gedaan ; it is
over, het is gedaan, 3) voor
een werkwoord beteekent het
in een en hoogen graad, zie de
onderſtaande werkwoorden.
Over - affected, bv. gemaakt, oy cr-
dro ver.
Over board,
in z4 6.
to Overchàrge , b, w. overladen.
to Overcöne, b. w. te boven ko-
me nl , over 1v in nen ; to overcome
all difficulties, alle moeijelijk-
heden te boven komen.
to Over El 'w, o.. w. overvloeijen , .
overſtroomen.
to Overgrów, b. w be wasſen, be-
groei je n ; , the ground was so
overgrown with grass, de grond,
was met zoo veel gras bewasſen.
to Overheát, b. w. verhitten, te
veel verhitten. -
to Overlóad , b. w. overladen.
to Overlóok, b. w. over zien, ovgr.
het hoofd zien, 2) doorzº en,
ttazi en •
bwe, ova r b oo rd 3.
to.
O U
to overpower , b, w, overwel-
digen. •
to oversée , b, w, over hat hoofd
zierz. -
to Oversèr, o. v. om vallen, oth-
ſi or ten ; the boat overset, de
boot ſo eg ox”; a) b. w. on werpém.
to Overspread , b, w, overſ' rooi-
gen, over/preiden, bodekken 3
the sea was all overspread with
darkness, da zee was met duis-
to 1 m is ledekt.
Overs: rained, dw, oyerſpannen
an overstrained cºyle, een ge-
dwo ng cn fifl.
to Overtáke, b. v. inhalert.
Overtook, o. t. yam to Overtake. -
b. w. om werper, , , i.
to Overtºrn ,
o ºnke crew.
to Overwhelm, b. w. overfielpon;
overwhelmed, with grief, yam
dro efheid oyerſ!elpf.
Ought, (on volledig werkw.) be-
hoorem, moeten, betamen, wer-
ſt huldigd zijn.
€ur, (bezittel. voorn.) ons, onze.
Our èlves, (voora.) ºvij zel yen ,
on 3 zółye n.
Otit, byw. uit ; he cried out, hij
risp wit ; he went out , hiſ ging
wit ; to keep the fire from going
out, het vuur aanhoudeh.
Oñt, wz. (mcs of) out of doors,
buiten de dear. ... .
P A
Päce, z. de frédé, pas, ſºap.
Päced, by a thorough paced his
bandman, egh witgelder d land- Paekthread,
bb a wer.
to Pacify, b, w, beyrédigeh.
O Y. 425
Oütery, z. een geſchrée uw, gee
roop. - -, -
to Outrún, b. w. in het leopen
over; reffen 5 — one’s pursikers ,
zijne veryolgers overloopen.
Oūtside, z. de baitenzijde.
Outward, b v. baiten, ui terlijk;
the outward shell, de bui ºcn-
fe haal.
to Outwéar, b. w. afaragon, af.
ſlij ten ; his cloths were worn
out , zijne kJecde rem waren
verſleter.
to Owe , b, w, ſº huldig zijn ; the
money he owed him, he t geld
dat hiſ hein ſchuldig was, 2)
te danken hebben 5 to him they
owed the preservation of their
lives, zij ºvarcm he ºn het be houd
van kan leven verſch ul dig d.
to Own, b. w. be kem men, erken-
men , z) or w. toe behoorem.
Own, b v. eigens as their own
children , als hanme eige me ki,j.
ren 5 to have one’s own will,
zijnen eige men wil hebben ; his
own country , zijn eigen land,
zijn wader land. -
Owner, z. de eigenaar.
Ox, z, de of. *
Oyster, z, dc oester.
Oysterbed, z. sen oesterbank.
Oystershell, z. een easterſchelp.
P. A
to Phek, b, w. pakkah ; to pack"
up, inpakkém.
z. bindgären , fouw.
to Paddle, o, w; plas/sh.
Pagan, z, d, he idea.
M m 3
425 P AA
Page, z. de bladzijde; on the fol-
lowing page, op de volgende
bladzijde,
Páid, dw. en o. t, van to Páy.
Päin, z- pijn, ſmart, moeite, 2)
de ſtraf, 3) ongerustheid, he
took pains, hij deed moeite; to
give pains, moeite veroorzaken.
Päinful, bv. ſasartelijk, 2) moei-
j clijk.
Painfully, bw.ſmartelijk, 2) snoei-
je lijk.
Páint, z.. het blanke tſel.
Painting, z. het ſchilderen, de
ſchildering.
Páir, z. twee bij elkander behoo-
rende dingen; in het Hollandsch
3vordt dit woord ſomtijds weg-
gelaten, een paar ; a pair of
breeches, een broek; a pair of
bellows, een blaasbalg,-2) een
paar , (mannetje en wijfje).
Palace, z. het paleis. -
Pàlatable, bv. ſmakelijk, a pala-
table food, ſmakelijke ſpijs.
Pàlate, zº het verhemelte , 2) de |
ſmaak.
Pá'e, bv, bleek, to look påle as
death, dood bleek zijn,
Palisáde, z. palisſade, eens ſpit-
ſe paal. •-
Pallace , 2 ie Palace,
Pálm, z. de palin boom.
to Palpitate, o.. w. how his heart
palpitated, hoe zijn hart klopte.
Pàn, z. de pan ; a frying pan, een
braadpan, 2) vaatwerk in het
algemeen ; a milk pan, een
an elkpot.
Panther , z. een pantherdier.
Páper, z, het papier, a sheet of .
paper, een blad papier. .
rcel, z, het pakje, paket, klei- |
me bundel.
Pardon , z. de vergiffenis.
P. Al
to Pardon, b. w. vergeven, 2)
van ſtraf onthcffen.
Pärents, z. mv. de ouders.
Parrot, z. de papagaai.
to Parry, b. w. afkeer en ; to - a
blow, een ſlag afke eren.
Pàrt, z. een deel, in pàrt, gedeel-
te lijk, 2) aandeel ; 3) for my
part, voor mij, ik voor mijf,
4) de rol van een to one elfpe-
ler; to act the part of one, den
rol van iemand ſpelen.
to Partàke, b. w. deel aan iets
hebben, deelnemen.
Parráker, z deelnemer.
PArticle , z. een deeltje , klein
gedeelte.
Particular, bv. bijzonder, niet al-
ge me en ; a particular walk, een
bijzondere, afgelegen, eenza-
me, wandelweg, 2) omſtandig;
a particular account, een omſlag-
tig verhaal , 3) bijzonder, uit-
gezocht ; a particular pleasure,
een bijzonder vermaak,
Particular, z. cene omſtandigheid,
bijzonderheid, in this particu-
lar, in deze bijzondere omſtan-
digheid.
particularly, bw, bijzonderlijk",
inzonderheid, 2) omſtandig.
Pärtly, bw. deels, gedeeltelijk.
Party, z. e ene partij, een hoop...
to Påss, o.. w. voor bijgaan ; I'Il
pass over this part of the histo-
ry, ik wil deze plaats over- -
ſlaan , 2) voor bij zijn ; 3) b.
w. d6 or of over iets gaan, rijs
den, varen, they had passed the
straights of Calais, zij waren
het kanaal gepasſeerd, 4) door-
brengen, he passed his days,.
hij bragt. zij de dagen door, he
passed the night , hij bragt den
nachf. dpore, . -
Passage , z, de reis, doortage,
over gang , 2) a if gang , opening;
a narrow passage under the ground,
een nagawe on dergaraſche gang,
3) cºme plaats uſ r cen boek.
Passenger, z. cer, reiziger, pas-
figier; they were passengers,
zij waren pasſagiers.
Passion , z. &e har: ; t cat.
Påssionate, by. dr frig , he rig ;
he used the most passionate ges-
tures, hij maaki e de he wigſfe
gfbaarden. - .
Past s. dw. van to Pass , :} by.
voor bij ; 3) he t yer is deme. .
Päste, z. het deeg. -
P2stime , z. he t t if dyr ra' iſ f.
Pat &rnal, by. Vader? jº.
Path, z, h : t pad, de weg.
Patience, z, he f g edu/d.
Patiest, by. ged aſ dig.
Patiently, by... met g : dald.
Pause, z, ruit., rustpant , fºil-
ſłand. - -
to Pause, o. w. rºsten, fil hou-
der, ophou den ; after having paus. Tº
ed a...little, n a da t , hiſ zich sen
weinig bed.1 cht. had.
Prw, 2. de poor.
to Fáy , b. W. be talen : I’ll pay
your expences, i k zal vuor a
be talen i 2) to pay a visit, een
Pezoek affegger, 5 to pay divine
worship, godsdienſige h wide be-
to an er 5, to pay obedience , ge.
Koerzamen ; , to pay. attention ,
op 16 ften. -
Péace, z, de Vrede,
Péaceful, by, vreedzaass, gers sſ.
Péack, péak, z. de top van eensm.
berg.; the peak of Téneriffe, de
piek, van Teneriffe.
Péaked, by... geſpit st , p snrig,
Jpits; a peaked basket, een ſpit-
Jº mand., -
Aim 4.
P. E.
to. Péal, b., waſ hillen.
Pèarl, z, dc paar!, parel,
Pearled, dw, pearled over, bepas.
rela , als baffrooid met paarlen,
Péase, z. mw. erºv ten.
Pèbble, z, ke iſła em.
Peciliar, by eigenaardig, bije.
zonder ; peculiar care, bif: on--
de re zorg vuldigheid, bij zone
der doeſ. + -
Pèn, z..eene ſch riffpen.
to Pènetrate, b.w. door&ringen s,
2) do orgroudan 5 to Pènetrate.
into a matter, iers doorg ronden.
Peninsula , z. een ſchie reiſand;
the fore most peninsula , her
ſchiarei land. aan-deze zijde va:-
do n Gang ef. • .
Pèasive, by. mads mkend, diepzigs.
mig , 2) zwaarusoedig.
Péople, z, he f yolk , 2) de mez, a
ſthen in her algemeen , he t
woordje men word; dikwijis door.
people vertaa!d.
to Percéive , b, w, be merkea, oat-
waren , beſpe uren. *.
Percéptible., by. markbaar, zig ºx-
baar. -
to Pèrch, b. w. zitres aſ: een yes.
gel op eener-tak,
427,
Pèrfect, by. volmaak f.
Perſèction, z. y o Panaak theid.
Pèrfectly, buy, yelmaak relijk.
to Perform ; b. w. sity seren, yers
rig ten., doen.
Performance, 2. de ui foefening ,
daad. .
Perhaps, by. ºn is ſchien.
Pèril, z. geviars at the Pèril,
ret gévgar. -
Périod, 2. de tijdrainte, 2) hes.
tijäftip. -
to Pèrish , o, w, vergaan , onkos
ms as 3 - with hunger, was hers,
ger ſerves, :
Pêr;
P E
Permission , z. het verlof,
fe mining. *
to Permit, b. w. verg un men, to e-
faan ; to be permitted, verlof
hebben.
4:8
* 0.2e-
Pern' cious, by, ſcha delijk, wer-
ds ºf Jijk.
Perpendicularly, by. regtſlijnig,
loo dregt.
Perplexity, z, de verlegenheid.
to Pèrsecute , b, w, very olgem.
Persectition, z de veryolging.
Persevérance, z. de volharding.
to Persevére, o, w, volharden ;
persevering industry, ſlandyas-
tige whijt, naar/figheid.
Perspèctive glass, z, een yerre-
kifker.
to Persist, o. wwo!harden, fand
hou den ; persist in a refusal,
bij zijne weigering ſtand
houdem.
Person, z, perſoom.
to Persuáde, b. w. overtuigen ,
overreden, overhałem.
to Pertáin, b. w. behoorem to t jets.
Perú, z. het landſchap van diem
máam, Peru, in Zuidamerika.
Perūsal, z, he: door!oopen, vlug
tig doerlezen of hier en daar
inzien yan een bock.
Perúvian, by. pert aan sch,
Para; peruvian sheep 2 peruaan-
ſche ſchapen.
to Pervèrt, b, w, verleiden ,
der ven. -
Pèst, z, da pestziekte , 2) f. elke
ſhort van groote kwaa].
Pèstilence, z. de pest zickte, de
bee
... past. - *
to Pétriſy, b. w. verſeene m i pe-
trified , werfteend, verſijf.
|
van ſchrik.
Péwter, z, her tin.
Phenomenon , z, het Wachtyers
1947,
t
P I
Jºhijnſel, de verſchijning, mw.
phenomena.
Philosophy, z, dc wif geerte; na-
tural philosophy, mat a urkumde.
Physical, by, matuurkundig; amº
faculty, mattiurlijk vermogen ,
- m at uſurkum dig verinogen.
Physician, z. de geneeſheer.
Physick, 2. het genees middel, de
gences middelen.
Physicks, z, mw. de natuurkunde.
ry
& #
to Pick , b, w, bije en rapem, op.
zam, elem 3 to pick up, Jezen,
oprapen ; to pick out, witpluk-
kea, uitzoeken, le zen.
Pickaxe, z.
to Pickle , b, w, inſeggen, is-
2. 0 fu º 8%. ,
Pico, zie Peack. -
‘Picture, z. ſchilderij, afbeelding,
Pièce, z, een ſºuk , 2) een Kamom,
00k a piece of cannon , 3) a
piece of work, eer, ſº uk work.
Pièceméal, by, ſtaksgow if ze, ſº uk
1. oor ſºuk.
to Piérce, b. w. door bodren, door-
ſfeken, 2) f door dring em.
Piérced , dw. gehoord.
Piéty, z, wroomheid, gody rezend-
heid, 2) liefde ; filial piety, kin.
derliefde, --
Pike, z: de piek, ſpies.
Pile, z. eam, ſºapel, hoop, 2) een
brand- of ho utflapel, hou tonijn,
Pillow , z, het hoofdkuſºn ; to
advise with one’s pillow, zich
op jets beſlapen.
Pin, z. ºena, ſpeld, 2) een pen,
pin, ſpiri toe loopend ºverk tuig.
to Pine, b. en o. we verdriorig,
droevig zijn 3 to pine away one’s
life, in droefkejd varkwijnen.
Pious, by, wroom, godyreezend ,
2) feeder.
Piously, by, met wroomheid.
Pip-
P L.
Pipkin, z, cem: potje.
Pirate, z. eem z9 ero over.
Pistol, z. een pistool.
Pit, z. ean gat of ho! in de aar-
de, een gro ef.
Pitfall, z.
Pitch, z. het pik, pek.
to Pitch, b. w. to pitch a tent,
eane rent opſlaam ; 2) o. we met
upon , kiezen, uit kippen ; to
pitch upon a thing', iefs uit kip-
pen , uft zoekan.
Piteous, by. droevig, erbarmelijk.
Piteously, by. jammerlijk.
Pitiful, by. erbarºnelijk', arm za-
ifg, elſe maig.
Pity, z, het mee doogen , he t me-
delijden , 2) de 0 orzaak der
#lag f, jam ser; it were a pity,
hot ware jammar ; it is a great
pity, her is wel jam mer.
to Pity ; b. w. be klagen, ºne delij
dem hebben mer.
Pláce , z. de plaats; 2) in the first
place , 100 recr: t , 3) eeram b-
#&n ; places of trust, gewigtige
ecºra ºl, tem.
to Pláce , b, w, plaatſen, zettan,
Peggen. -
Plágue, z. es nº plaag, 2) heer-
ſchende baſket telijke en vers
ºwne stem de ziekte , 3), bapa alde-
delijk de pest. -
Pláin , by. on bºw. plar, vlak, ef.
fen 2. 2) klaar, duidelijk.
Pláin, z. eene whakte, een dal.
Pláinly, by. duidelijk, 2) onver-
b/06 m d, yoor de vaist ; he plain-
ly told him , hij zeide, hem
rom duit. -
Plan, z. eam plau, on threrp..
Pláne, 2. eene, viaki e , 2.) eene
/chaaf, 3.
Pauk, z. eane plank.
Plaat, z, do plant , hºt gewar.
M m 5.
Plēntiful ,
to Piùck , b, w, plakken ,
P L 42%)
to Plant, b. w. planten; – a gar-
den , egmen ta is be plaf, fen.
Plantátion, z. plantſoen, plant-
a adje, 2) eefe volkplant img.
Pláte, z, eam bord", ſchotel.
to Pláy, o. we ſpelen ; 2) z, het
ſpel, her ſpelen.
Pláyfellow , z. ſpee! m a.kker.
Plèasant, by. aangenaam.
to Pléase , b. w. behagen, 2) ºn
iets behagen winden ; if papa
would please to give me, indién
het papa behaagde mij — to
geyem ; if God would pléase to
forgive him, wanneer God he ºn
vergiffenis wilde ſchenken; his’
majesty was pleased , hat be-
haagde. Z. M.; I am not at all
pleased with him, ik ben in hist
g cheel n is t met hem te vreden:
Pléasing, dw. van to please, plea-
sing hopes, a angen ame hoop.
- Plèasure., z. hes war maak ; for "
pleasure, voor pleizier-, 2) be-
hagen ; after his pleasure, maar
her hem behaag f , maar zijn
behagen.
bv, ovary].064 ig , rij-
kelijk. -
Plènty, z. over v1.08 d.
Plíable, z. buig &aan. -
Plot, z, een plek , kleine plaats;
the grass plot, de groane pjek,
Plough, z. de ploeg.
to, Plough, b. W. ploegen.
Ploughman , z. een akkerman s.
bot, w man,
Plough shire, z, he koater.
Plow , zie Plough.
wifs.
plukken. -
Plümmet , z, het zirkleed, pail.
to Plunge, b. eſs o. wonderdui-
ken , duikers , zich, in he t was s
ter'ſ of £3 m.
to
43O Po
to Ply, b, w, iſ verig aan iets ar-
beiden; to ply the oars, met
alſe magi rocifen.
Pecket, z, de zak • Pasch.
Pocket money, z. zakgeld,
Pod, z, de ſchaal, ſchil, bast.
Point, z, de punt, her ſoft ſº ein-
* , 2) eenig bijzonder tijd-
Pºt 3 he was on the point of,
* if fond op her punt yam te
- ; 3) bijzonder voorwerp ;
Point of view , oogpant, 4)
doeſ, oogmerk; he carried his
point, hij be reikte zijn oog-
merk. -
to Póint, b. en o. w. panten,
Puntig make n, 2) wifzen, too-
men ; pointing to the map, op
de Kaart wifzende ; the magne-
tick needle points to the north ,
de maagnee inaald wif st het
zos raen aan.
Pointed, by ſpits, pnntig 5 poin-
ted posts, pointed poles, ſpitſ,
palem.
Poison, z, her verg if, gif.
Poisonous , by, vergiftig.
Póle, z. eem paal, 2) een ſtaak.
to Pölish , b. w. polijs ten , z) be-
ſº haven.
Polished, by gepołijst, glad ;
polished silver , gebraineerd
zilver, 2) beſchaafu , polished
nations, be ſchaafae yo/ken.
Polſte by. Beſthaaff, welleyend.
Pöll , z, yer korfing van Parrot,
of Jieyer de maam van pape-
gaaijen, Jarretje, Jerre I
Pond, z, de vijver.
Poër, by. arm, behoeftig, 2.)
arm zalig , weinig re - ach-
teſ. :
Poorly, by arm, beheefig; 2)
arm2 a lig , weinig tº achten 3
-
P O
-he was but poorly instructed,
hiſ was ſle ch: onderwezen.
Póre, z. het zweetgaatje.
Pörk, z. versch, omgezo a ten yar-
ke a y less ch 5 to plckle one’s pork,
zijn yarkenyled sch in zout 0 m.
Pörringer, z. eene kom, ſº has},
map, een bekken.
Pórt, Z. de hay em.
Pórtion, z. een deel, aandeeſ.
to Possèss, b, w, be zitten.
Possible, by. mogelijk. ---
Possibly, buſ. megelijk , he could
not possibly judge, he twas he nº
nie t mogelijk to o ordee/en.
Póst, z. een post, paal, 2) de
post van den ſoldaat, 3) he's
ambt, de post. *
to Póse , b, w, ſtellen, plaatſen
Postèrity, z. de nakomelingſchap.
to Póstpone, b, w, verſchuiyeh 5
uitfiellan. *
Pósture, z. de to eſtand , a] de
plaatſºng van hat Jigchaam,
her post tº ure *
Pöt, z. ean pet ; a watering pot,
eam gie temmer, 2) es n Kroeg ,
krwik.
Potátoe, z. de aardappel.
Pótion, z. een drank; bewitching
pótion, een to overdrank.
Pötter, z. ean pottenbakker.
Pöuch, z. een zak, tas ch s a hun-
ter’s pouch, eems wif fasch ; a
pouch ful, sem zak vol.
Poiánd, z, her pond.
to Povind, b. w. ſtoo ten , ſtampeº
C in ean’ vijzel), verbrijzelen.
to Poir, b. w. uitſchudden, tº it -
gier em , uitſfortan ; f, to pour
blessings upon one, ie mand mºº
zegen ingen overladen, 2) b. w.
y}o e i je n ſºroo wea; to pºur
forth
forth praises to God, God's lof
ºf thoezemen ; the rain poured
down, de regen fort te neder.
powder, z, poeder, ſºof, 2) bus-
kruid, ook gunpowder. . . .
Powder room, z. de kruid kā
Power, z. de mag t-
Powerful, by. magtig.
Practice, z, de wiſza van fets a
doem.
to Practice, practise, b. w. en o.
w. is t s oefenen , ui to a fenen 2
doen, drijven,
Práise, z, de roem, lof; a hymn
of praise, een 10 fang.
to Präise, b. w. prijzen, 2} dank
zeggen : to praise God, God
danken, 3 } bidden,
Prºy, (tus ſchenw. eigenl. b. w. I
przy), ei lie ve.
Práyer , z. he t gebed;
prayers, bidden.
Precaution, z, de voorzig tigheid.
to Precéde, o. we v0 orgaar: ; what
preceded this narration, wat de -
ze vertelling voo raf ging.
Précept , z. het be vs I, yoorſchrift.
P: écious , by. k of thaar.
Précipice, z, de afg roma!.
to Precipitate , b. w.m. ederſfor ten.
Precipitätion , z, de overhá arring.
Prèface, z. de voorrede, in Heiding.
to Preſer , b, w. de voorke urge-
ven , 'ver kiezen booen jets
am ders.
Pièjudice , z. he t ye oro or deel.
Prejudicial, by. made elig , ſcha-
delijk.
Preparātion, z. de yoorbareiding.
to Prepire, b. w. voor be reiden ;
2) o, w, zish gereed maken.
to Prepossess , b. w. innemen ;
Prepossessed with a thing, met
#ers ingenomen ; – with a foo.
lish fear, met eene dwaze wrees.
to Prescrible, b, w, yoorſ:hriſyen,
º-s
to say
, P R 431
Présence, z. de tegenwoordig he id;
– of mind, fegem wo or dig heid
y &n gée f.
Prèsent, by. tegenwoordig (van
plaats zoo weł &ls yam tijd),
ook at present. -
Présent, z de regenwoordige tijd;
…for the present, voor her tegen-
§: woordige, e) een geſchenk.
“to Present, b.
W,
ſchenken , geven
fiellew.
Prèsently, buy. tºgen woordig , z)
terſtoºd. --
Preservâtion, z. het beho tid.
to Preserve , b, w. beh ouden , be-
f:hermen ; God preserve us for
it, God be hoede on s-daari'q or ;
the preserved people, de gé red-
de ºn enſchen.
Preserver, z. de redder, behog-
der, beſe he rmer. *.
to Prèss, b. w. drukken ; the wine
is not pressed, de wif m ºvardt
miet tº its edrukt ; to press down,
rederdrukken ; 2) met regen-
ſpoed drakken , beladen ; pres-
sed with grief, do sr k on ase r
ge drukt., 3) aandringen, ver"
zoeken ; he pressed the captain,
hiſ drong dem kapite in ; 4) o-
w. to press upon one , op i e-
zi and aandringen , ( in het
ge yacht). -
Prèss, z. de pers.
Pressing, by. en dw, drukkend;
his pressing wants, zijne drin-
gendſfe behoeften.
to Prestline, b. w. en o. w. gis-
fen , rer in seden , 1) zich a an-
mat igen , de yrijp of tigheid
93 & 7% tº 78. l
Presúmptions, by. Jaatáunkend,
trot sch, vermetal.
to Pretēnd , b, w. yeorge yet, yoor-
ºyºs
aan Bieden,
2) daar-




432 P R
wenden, 2) zich in be elden ;
3) O. vi. zich verſiou ten , wil-
lens zijn. -
Prètty, by, fraai, moof, aard'g,
2) tamelijk 3 pretty good, vrij
go d. -- .
to Preváil, o, w, de overhand be-
‘halen , 2) heerſ&he n : silence
prevailed throughout 'nature ,
seene diepe filte heers chre in
-de natuur ;
Jalen.
to Prevènt, b. w. voorkomen, ver.
h inde ren , werhoºden.
Prévious , by voor afgaande, voor-
loop ig. - -
Préy, z. b uit, prooi, roof; a bird
of prey, een roofyogel.
to Préy, o, w. met on, verwoer,
-ten , vernie len,
Price , z, de prijs, waarde ; at
the same price, yoor de m zelf.
dem prijs.
Prickle, z, de doorn yam plan ten;
prickles of thorns, de fºekels
van door men.
Priést, z, de priester.
Prince, z. de vor; f, prims 3 a
prince’s feast, een worſtelijk maal
Principal , b. het yo ornaamſfe;
the principal truths, de voor-
naamſe waar he dem.
Principle, z. de grondſlag, grond-
felling.
to Print, b.w. drukken, afõrukken.
Print, z, a print of human foot,
een afar ukſel van deman ryem -
(ſcheny oet.
Prison, Z. de geyangenis,
Prisoner, z. een gay angeme; to
take prisoners , krijgsgevange-
men makem.
Private, by. verbergen, he imelijk.
Privately , by, heimelijk. **
3) to prevail on
one , ie m and overreden, 6 ver-
P R -
Prize, beter price, z. de prijs,
de wins t , he t gel uk. 2) het loon,
Probability, z, avaar ſchijnlijkheid
Probable, by, waarſchi in lijk.
Probably, by. wad rſ3.hijn Iijk.
Probity, z, de eerlijkheid, braaf.
he id.
to Procéed, b. w voortgaan, vers
volgen ; he proceeded with his
work. hij zette zijn werk
yoort ; – on his journey hij ver-
volgáa zijne reis, 2) afkom-
fig zijn , aftam men.
Procéeding, z, he t gedrag , de
h andelwijze.
Prócess , z. de voortgamg ; in pro-
cess of time, in veryo!g van tiid.
to Proclaim, b. w. be kend makem,
aff roepen.
to Proctºre, b. w. verſe haffen,
bezorge n.
Proctºration, z. bezorging , beyor-
der ing.
Prºdigal, by, verkwis tend.
Prodizious, by. won derbaar, on-
ge loofelijk , verbazend , zeer
g root.
to Prodéce, b. w. voortbrengen :
vero orzake m. .
Production, z. voort breng ſel.
Productive, by. voortbrengend,
y r ucht baar.
to Profess, b, w. openlijk behem"
men ; – a religion, genen godſ"
diers t he lifden. -
Profitable, by. voorde elig, muftig.
Profound, by. diep ; a profound
silence, eene diepe ſtilte.
Progress, z, de v ordering, voor?"
g4??g.
Progrèssive, by. Voráerend, toº"
nemend.
Project, z, het voorwerp, voor.
me men; to drop a -, een - op”
geyen , late is yaren-
to
sº
- - . . . . )
to Projëct, b. wi on tºwerpen, ver- |
zirmen; to project a scheme, een ||
plan on tºwerpen.
Prółix, by. ovijdio opig,
rig , omſlag pig.
to Prolong, b, w, verlangen.
Prêmise, z. de belofte.
to Promise ; b. w. §s loven.
Prêmontory, z. eem yoorgeberg re.
ui twoe-
to Promēte, b, w, beyorderes,
à 2 werkez. --
to Prömpt, b. w. aar, ſporen, san-
drifven, verpligten, no edza-
ken i humanity prompted me to
irº de man sch}ijkheid noodzaak-
f 3 m if er toe. " .
to Pronoënce, b. w. aftſpreken.
Próf, z. een be wifs, 2) eene
2 r r eye.
Proof, bu, beffand; proof against
wied and weather, regen wind
en wee r haftand.
to Fröp, b. w; fakken,
to Propagate, b, w, voortplanten,
vermeerda ren. .
P. ºper ,
* agr, bah oorlijk ; the proper
reason, da ware o orzaak , 2)
eigan aard fg. . . . •
Pº perly , by eigenſijk ,
ha or lijk. -
Prºperty, z, her eigsndon, wer.
. he-
* 0gen , de bs 2 is tingen, 2) de
a ſenſchap.
Prºphecy, z. voorzagging.
to Prophecy , prophesy, b, w.
voorzeggen, voorſpallen. -
Propºrtion, z. eyenrºdigheid, yer-
houdings in propºrtion as, narr
ºf a &, – - ... . -
Pro;&rtionable , by, gee ventre digd,
taar even redigheid. -
Profésal , z, is vecºel , de
yo ºffag. - * *
bv. eigen , eigenlijk ,
Proud , b v.
N a
*— *. • * : * w — 7'º', e. *
Proposition, z. hee. voorſter, de
vaor ſlag. . . . .
Proprietor, z. de eigenaar.
to Prèsecute, b. 'w voortzettes,
veryo gens – a work, inct sen
werk voortgaan. :
| Prospect , z, her airzigt , has
aanzian.
to Prosper, o. wi gelakkig zija,
flagen , zijn gejuk m fen.
Prospérity, z, woo rſpeed, gala.k.
Prêsperous , by, vºorſpoodig. g tº re-
fig, 2.) gelakki.g. - .*
to Prostrate, b. w. — one's self,
zich op den grond werpen.
*rostrátion, 2. de was eval, after
* humble prostrátion, was enem -
mederigen voerval. . . . . .
to Protéct; b. w. beſt he rºen. §
Protéction, z, de beſtherming. ; : ;
Protestant , a. de protes: an e P
he rvormde.
**gebeeſt, grootsch,
hovaardig. <
to Prove , b, w. he wiſzer, 2) on-
derzoekem, 3) o w. Alijken te
zijn of re doen ; she proved to
be the mother, her bise; dat
zij de mºe.der was ; the wind
proved favorable, de wind bleek
gunſ; ig Fa zijn ; if he should
prove to be a traitor, in sever
dat her mogt blijken, da; hij
een verråder wars.
Prºverb , z. ſpreak woord,
to Provide , b, w, met is ; ; yoor.
zien , verzorgen , (mer of ex
with), 2) iemand verzorger: ,
(ºner for). -
Providence, z, de voorzier,igheid;
divine providence. .
Provision , z, da voor raad, r)
mv Iey easºn iſ telen.
- : * - * * * (*
Prúdent, by. Voorzigt ºg.
to Prüue , b, w, ſhoeij n, Beſ; if-
e: 3,
434 P U ,
.den ; he pruned tha hedge,
fnoeide de heg.
Fublicătion, z, de afkom diging.
Públick, z. het publiek.
Publickly, by. openlijk.
Büdding , z. eene worst, podding;
a fried pudding, eene braad worst
to Pull, b. w. trekken, ſchau-
rem , rukken ; to pull down,
nederrukken ; to pull off one’s
cap, zijne muts afne man - to
gull off one’s clothes, zích on t-
#!eeden. . . . .
Pålse, z. de polf.
Púmp, z, de pomp.
to Pump , b, w. pompen, .
Pümpkin, 2. -
to Púnish, b. w. ſtraffen,
dem, baſſ raffen.
Púpil, z. de Jeerling, kwekeling.
to Pärchase, b. w. Koapen.
Päre, by. fahoon, helder, 2)2 wi-
wer, on permeng d. t
to Púrify", b. w. zuiveren-
Pirposé , z. het voorne men, doeſ;
for that purpose, ten died ein-
Ale 3 on purpose, moed willig,
me: voordacht 5 to answer the
same purpose, to the tza; fºe doe!
diemen ; to no purpose, tº ver-
Ageeſ.
*
Q U
gºality, z. eigenſchap.
Qualmish, by misſatijk ; he grow
qualmish, hij verd misſelijk:
Quantity, z, hoeveelheid, menig-
re, gro ofte- 3.
gatrrel, z, de twist, het Krakeel.
Çuarter, z. het wierde deal ; a
hind quarter , & 6 m ach terſ whº
rem ten gºſſogº dier , 2) de
hiſ
kas: j-
*
p U
* * f -
| Phraosely , bºw, worked chºsºft.
Pürse, 2. de bears , gefizak.
to Purstie 2 b, w. vijan delijk ver-
vola sn', naz tren, 2) voortzes.
reſt. 3) mayo'gen, (als zen
vo o f beeld). . . . . .
Purstier, z. de ver vo!g a r.
to Push, b, w. footen, ſchºwen,
drifver, , inftoppen.
to Pút, b. w. zet rem , leggen,
fellen 3 his stomach put him in
mind , zijne tº agg herinners's
h em. , 2) met b wa krijg t dit
Avo ord verſ; hiſſan de-beteeken is
fem; to put off one’s cloths,
złch on tº ided: n, ; to put off,
aftſ; elſen , ye ‘ſch’, iven ; to put
on one’s clothes, zith aan klee-
den 5 to put out a fire , ean
vzlar ait do yen ; to put up with
a piece of bread, met een fluk
brood voor lieſ’ nemen.
Putrefaction , z. bederf, rotting,
Pitrid, by. he dor yen, ºr error.
Púzzle ; b. w. in "c r1egan heid
by engen ; it puzzled his brains,
hiſ brak zich verg cefs her
hs of , hiſ kon miet beg riſps n;
His understanding was puzzled,
zijn verſ; and fond ſºil.
w
Pyramid, z. eene piramide.
—º
—-
Q U
he melºreek ; a wind blowing
from all quarters, een wind die
wit aſſe heeken des he me's
kwan , 3) genade, ſchenking
van her Iey on ; he begged for
quarter, hiſ bad on zijn leven-
to Quench, b. w. Jesſºhém 3 to
quench one’s thirst, zijnen dorsº
lesſºhem. "
Ques-
Q U.
Question , z, de vragg, 2) het
onderwerp d’és geſprek: ; the
matter in question , de zaak
waaryan hier de rede is.
Quick, by en by ſneſſ, ſpoedig,
f; hie lijk, wing. -- *...*
Quickly , by ſhel, ſhoedig, ſchie-
Jijk 3 ylag •. . . .
R A
Ráše, z, dc wedloop, loop, loop-
baan, . , ,
Raft, z, een y!or, hority; ot.
RAfter, z. era dwarshalk, baſk.
Ra ea º yod, lººp, lor.
Ráge, z. de woede, 2) do he-
vigheid.
to Ráge , o, w. woºden, razen,
*feren's the raging sca, dc woe-
den de zee.
* * *s, ge/apt.
Ráin. z. de regen. -
to Ráin , o, w, regenen.
to Räise, b. w. verheffen, in de
haos to heifen, 2) ovekken, ep-
*ekken , aan wakkeren,
Rhisin, z, do rozijn.
Ráke , z. de hark. . . -
to Rally, o, w, zich wedir in or.
dº ſharem , zich wedar wer.
zāme'em. . . . s
Râul, z. een bok. 3.
Râmble, z, son zwerver, land.
looper. : , • *.
#
on op gºed gelak,
Rapacious, by. roof: ferig.
Rapid, by, fneſ, gezwind; a rapid
*ream; ecſ, ſº cłłº ſir, on.
N n-2.
| Quiet, by, fºil, gorust.
Ragged, by. geſcheurd, aan fºn-
Q U +35.
Quickness, z, ſhoed; gezwindheid.
to Quiet, b, w.ger ust fellen,
ſłiller. . .
Quietly, by ſºil, garustelijk.
to . Quit, b, w, verlaten; -- the
island, het e i land verſatan.
| Quite, by. gehee! . geheel en af,
*
-*-*
R. E. ,
|Rapidity, z, de ſhelheid:
Rapidly, buw. ſmel.
Rapture, z, de verrukking.
Ráre , by zeldzaan, onge woos.
Rascal, z. een booswich r, ſhark.
Rāsh , by overeil 3, on bezon men,
ver me t e l'. -
Rashness , z. de on bazonnenheid,
overeiling.
Rasp z. eene r. sp. . .
Ráte , z, de prijs, waarde ; at
this rate, to doze prijs.
Rather, by hiever, veejeer; he
chuse rather, hiſ wilds lie yer.;
Ravelin , z. g. ccht , *ravelijn ,
vesting werk air two e flanken,
en eemen hoek beft sande:
Ráven, z, de raaf.
Ravenous, by roof:achtig., gra-
rig , guſzig. . . . . . . "
to Ravish, b, w; verrukken: ,
* Raw, bw. raauw, orge kook: ; raw:
, , flesh, raauw whess ch, 2) van
her vel ſprekende, ge kiwet st.
º . - to Réach, b. w; bereiken, 2) tos-
Râmpºrt, z, de war, ſad, in tin r.
Rândum, z: he foe v.3. 3sat land.
reiken, aan ºied in , .3), o, w, .
zich uitfirekken, -- - º
Réach , z, de uffand waarap mes
*** *ereiken kan, het be reik,
within his reach, ender zijn
t bareik.
to
436 R. E.
to Réad, b, w, iszen.
Réader, z. de lazer.
Readiness, z. de bareidwiłłigheid,
Réading , 2, her lexen, de Jezing.
Ready, by gereed, 2) bereidwil-
lig , 3) bij de hand, makij.
Réal, by... we zemlijk; a real nut,
een 6 wezemlijke moot; the real
cause, de wezenjijke (eigenjij-
ke, ware), oor zaak. '
Reality, z. de wezen jijkheid.
to Réap, b. w. rapen, imoogſtan,
$nzam slem. -
to Réar, b. we fºkken , ophren-
ge n, kweekes; he reared a flock,
hiſ fakte eene k udde.
Reāson, z. de rede, her gezond
werfamd; inconsistent with rea-
son, mez de reds , met he t ge-
zond verſiand, on beffawnbaar,
2) de oor zaak, reden, growd.
to Réason , o, w, redenezen, aem-
ken, baſis item, 2) near rede,
oorzaak , y ragen. -
Téasonable, bºw. redelijk, 2) #ill jº
Reasonably,bw. redelijk, 2) billijk
Réasoning , z. hat reden gren, den-
. . ken, oordee/en.
Röbel ; z. een oproer maker ,
muiter.
to Rebound , o, we tertig ſprin-
gen , afſpringen.
to Recall, b. w. tertigroep em.
to Receipe , b. w. on to a ng en ,
aannemen, 2) is mand his is was
ten , on tvangem", on thałen 3 he
received him with great hospi-
tality, hij on tying hem met
weel gas tyrijheid.
Receptacle, z, de bewaarplaat; ;
2) de plaats waar men iess ont-
wangs of huisvest, do verza-
ºne piaats.- . . .
to Reckon, b, w, reke men, be re-
kemen ; he reckoned ever, hij
be roken dø.
}
to Recláin, b. w. termgy ordere n!
to Recline, o, w. laun a n, raste a.
to Recollèct , o, w. we der verza-
me!en , 2) herinneren ; do you
recollect 2 herinnert gij tº ? 3)
— one’s self, zich Bezia n e º 2
we der 6 iſ zijn's zinnen komen.
to Recommènd, b, w, aan be veſsm.
to Record , b, w, opſch, if ven,
aanteekerea, verhalem,
Recóarse, z, to sylugt ; to bavs
recourse, zijn a toe v lag i me c < n <
to Recºver, b, w. i et s we der £4-
komen , t erfg bekov, en; – one’s
ship , zijn ſchip te rug k if-
gen s to recover one’s seases ,
one’s spirits, one’s self, we de z
bij zij ne zinnen ko men; --
one’s liberty, vrij koinea.
Recovery, z, he rſfel, genezing.
to Rècreate , b. w. yerk wikken 2
werfrisſchen.
to Recriut, b. sy, over yen 5 - one’s
self, herfielſen, nieuwe krach”
ten krijgen.
Red, by. rood; red-hot, glosi-
jend. i
to Rèdden, b, w, rood make a.
Reddish, by roodachtig.
to Redóuble, b. w. verdubbelen,
to Redſ.ce , b, w, tº rag bretº ºn ,
brenges tot; to reduce to obé-
diedce, tot gchoo retarheid
brengan, 2) Bedwingen, yºr-
overen 3 to be reduced by hun-
ger, door den honger gepi in igil
worder. -
Réed, z, het riet.
Réel, z, een harps!, garet, Flor.
Reference, z, de betrekking.
to Refit , b, ..w. verſe?her, it.”
zonderheid. van Jºhepee, Kaj-
faren. . . . . . .
to Reflèct, b. en o. w. terug we r"
pen, aftaatſºn; to reflèct the
. . . . .." light 2
light, he licht tº rugkaatſen,
2) ists overwegem; nadenkem’,
(net on of upon). -
Reflection, z, he t nadenken , de'
overweging. • 3.
to Ref: áin, o. w. zich met gé"
weld van če ne zaak on thoudem,
2) zich bed wing: t: , he to omen •
to Reflesh , b, w. verk wikken ,
werfrisſchem. , tº
Refreshment; z. de verkºwikking.
to Refüse, b. w. en o. w. ºvéige-
ref , it f : weigeren 2. weigérig,
on willig zijn. *: 4.
Reſisal, 2. d.s weigering.
to Réfuge, b. w. in baſcherming
Pſ tº ºf 6 ºr a -
to Regain, b, w, he rºt inner, jºwd-
der verkrijg em.
Régal, by. koninklijk.
to Regard, b. w. fets a chtéri, 2)
iers in aanmerking nei, en 3)
in zijne beſtherming nemen.
Regard, z de blik, 2) de be trek-
king tot fets ; with regard to ,
ten canzic nyam, ten opzigt yam,
Région, z. de landſfreek. . . .
Regret, z. ſpi;t , droofheid's bé-
frº fºs &
to Regrèt , b. w. bekiagen, be-
row wan, bátre aham.
Regular, by regelmatig.
Règularly, by regeltharig.
to Regulate; b, w, väfordsmeñ,
in rig ten; ' ' ' . . . .
Regu'árion; z. de ºver ordening,
in rig ting. -- *. •
to Rejêct; b. 'w. verwerven.
to Rejºice, o. we wroßjk zijn ;
to rejoice in a new day , zich
over eems nº nieuwen dag ver-
Héugen : - in a truth; over ee-
nº wadrheid. . . . . . . .
to Relapse, o, wi weddir infºr:
tsm g : in esassworfgeszka kºte-
* .
$ºn $3
Rēlishing; by, ſmakehijk,
R E 437
ragwallen, of tot eemen wor:-
gen, misſlag teragkeeren-
to Reláte, b, w, verhalem.
Relâtion, z. de vertelling he?
verhaal, barigt, 2) een bleed-
verivatir, 3) be trekking 5 to
bear relation to our bappiness,
totons gelsk betrekking hebben"
Relative, by. betrakkelijk.
Relaxation , Z. naſat igheſd; 2)
werſ opping. -
Released, dw: beyrijd, wrijg”
laten. - , ,
Reliéf, z, werligting, Ideniging.
to Reliéve, b. w. verzachten , .
verlig ten , ; 2) : eenen ſchi, 6-
wachs aftosſen:
Religion; z, de godsdienst.
Religious, by. godsdienſfig 5 réli-
gious sects, godsdienſtige par-
tij, n.
to Relinquish , -b, w, verlatén,
iat f opgeyen , laten yare".
to Relish, z, do gaede ſnaak , ,
aangename ſmaak, . . . . .
was
goedem ſmaak.
Reluctance , . z. de tegenzin ,
weeriwił. . -
to Rely, o, w; zish opiers wer-
laten, op vertroswen. . . k.
to Remáin , o, w; overig blijven,
over blijván.
Remains, z, mv. het overſchot,
de overbºijffelém. . . .
Remáinder, z. m.w.. het 'overſchet, .
dº overb/ijff-len. . . . .
Remárk, z, d6 beinerking, agi-
merking: -
Remarkable, by: inerkivsardig. .
Remedy; z. een gems ess, fºlds; , in
he traigemeen elk-inidae, tºgen.
~ : een fge kwaal. • ‘s *
t{} Remember , by w; zìchē ists'
hs; impºrsha- -
º-
438- R. E.
Remembrance 3. z. de herin he ring,
het gehe agen.
to Remind a b. w.iemand jets he r- |
inneren. ... "
Remonstrance, z. de voorffelling,
de vermaning, ºvaarſchulving , |
raadg sy; mg. --- ~ :
Remóte , b v. afgelogen, verwij-
dard , zoo wel vax tijd als
Plaats ſprekende ; into the re-
motest futtirity, t of de laatſfe
tijden.
to Remóve , b. w. uit de #2 weg
raiman, wegſchaffen 2 verwij-
deren.
to Rênd , b, w, ſºhcaren, were
ſche aren. -
to Rènder, b. w. wedergave w; 2)
maken ; to render one’s self un-
worthy of a thing, 2 ich iets on-
waardig ſnaken.
to Renew , b, w, vernieuwen.
to Renotince, b, w, on tzeggen ,
van afzien, opgeyen 5 to re-
nounce a pleasure, eam vermask
on tzoggen 5 - an error, eene
dwaling laten yaren. 1
Rént, dw. van to Rends in ſºak-
ken geſche urd. -
to Repair, b. w. herfallen ver*
awaken ; a) or w. zich begeyev
{maar eenige plaats).
Repair, z. het verblijf, de ver-
blijºſaafs, *
Repäst, 2. de maaltijd.
to Repéat, b. we herhałen 2 i8 is
ten tweaden male doºm 2 nog
eens doene *
Repeatedly, by, herhaside re?:
zen, bij herhaſing.
to Repènt, o, w. beroº" hebben , ,
zich bedro even , (met of), he
repeated of his wrongs , hiſ had
he rouw van zijne m is drify 6 m 5
if you sincerely revent, indie.”
tºy bºro & W opreg f is * -
R. E.
Repēntance, z. her hero aw.
Repèntant, by. bºrouyi hebbend,
boervaaraig, -
to Reply, o. we an two order,
Reply, z. sen antwoord, regen.
werping. .** -
Repôrt, z. hat garagº ałgetheen
verhaal , he t gezeg de , hē 36-
rig: , 2) he t ge; & i 3 yam éép
kanowſchof.
Repóse , z. de rust , de flaap.
to Repøse , o, we triº rus; ºn 2
f ſº I ºf:- - -
to Reprosènt, b, w vanrfe?}**.
Repróach, z. hot verwijf.
to Repróve, b. w. Ioken , #2 ris"
pen , afko wron.
Requést, z. ecn verzo, K, eche he de
**
| to Require , b. w y order: o, ver:
Jaagºn, 2) ye reiſchen no 04.js.
zijn, -
Requisite, by. nood3akelijk, no 04.
wen dig. -
to Rcquite, b. w. verge dea.
to Rescue, b. w. he wrijdea, redds?
- Resemblauce, z, de gelijkeri i r >
gelijkheid 5 to bear some res&m-
blance, eenige gelijken is hebber.
to Resemble, o, w, gelijken g”
lijk zijn.
to Reserve, b. w. beware g : bg"
fpare fre •
Reserve, z. beſpaarde voorraad,
yoerraad voor dem rijd viºs
mood, s) voorbehouding.
to Reside, o, w, vonen
to Resign, b. w, mederleggen ,
on darwijzen : - one’s self, cich
wrij willig en geºgren cºde r-
wereen 5 with resigned fortitt"
de , met gelate no fandyas"
tigheid. - • T ,
Resignátion, z, on darwarping.
to Resist, b, w, tegºn/fand bãº
den, waderſ;agº. -4-
* . . C&
R. g.
to Resºlve , b, w, beguitan ; to ſ
resolve upon, variñellen ; the
voyage was resolved upon , de l'.
reis ºverd be pas!d: -
Resolute, by, kłoskinoedig, rºan-
haftig , vast bºſſ of em.
Resolution, z. he f l (flair, Hef
voor resen, 3 X 3e ſandvººrig-
fre id; k los £ in 06.3 igh eid.
Rejónrcs, z. httlps; i3 deſ, hulpº roti
Respèct, Z. & earbied, 2) be -
tº e º king, opzig; ; in some res-
pect, ee ºf germ afé , in ſº sm f*
A. e. 5% zig i s m 3 with respect to ,
ten opkigre was.
Respècºal, lº, by. cerájedwaazā'īg,
& ch ſing fragr dig,
Rosy cetfitity; by. eerbiedig.
Respitätion , z. de a de wh: 'ing.
Rèspite, z, he t witſ; a 1, 33 ſº i !
& and , 3) verſchoon in g.: -
Rest, z, her overijijffe?, de rest,
he overſhot ; for the rest,
yo or her overige ; all the rest
of us, aile de overigea war ans.
Rest, 2. de rust, de flaup ; his
mind was never at rest, avoir
was Sijn gees; ger as i.
Restless, by. A m rust g; ruste loos.
to Restéré, b. w. harſfellen , t e-
ragg dyen 5 to rest&re to life,
for her leven terug &rengen 3
to restore to vice, in de on.
daugd to rug ſleper, s a restored
friend, een her won men wries d.
to Resºráin 2 b, we rerughoudan,
afhaud'ss. .
§ Result, o. W. on tſaan , ant-
, ſpringen s - yołgºn , her ge-
3'6'3 ×ijn, ... • *
Result, z. het gevels hat einde,
--
to Restime, b, w, is is (d. 7 afte-
broke & ºvas) hery a fºci: , vs.'er
****** **, Tveder aan vanges;
ths fa:hér resumed the story, k
N n
RE 43%
& yadar yatre den draad v4 nº.
het verhaal wed ºr sp; he re-
sūmed his air of finiliarity, hij
nam &# * wrigº 3's jijk. gela a #- .
we der sah. -
to Retáin, b, w, behesden, 2)
on thooden, nie? verge 87.
to Retáke, b. w. herneº, ºn 2 wer
ders ºn mathem.
Retinue, z. het geyolg 2-de foe'>
Heffta ºf Y -
to Retire, o, w, terag trekken's
of rekker , weggaen.
Retired, by: eenzaam-
Resréat, z. een the vlugts of rº-
wijkplaats 5. ſch silp Heats 3. 2).
een cenzaa in verb/iff, 3) de
e enzaamheid. -
to Retréat, or w. zichºt erag
trekkers. -
to Retriéve, b. w. inhale a 3 w8-
der be kemer, vergee den ; to
retrieve one’s younger days , zij-
në fosge: dag ºn nog eens gé-
nietes. -
to Retúrn , o, w ter agkeeren ,
ºve darko men, on keeren ; 2 ) b.
W. to ruggs yen 5.to return thanks,
bedankes, danken.
Return, z, de fezagºerssf, w8-
derkorºst. . -
to Revéal, b. W. opæs Baren, onf, .
dekken.
Reverence, z, de carbiedigheid,
eer #81, if zing , hałde. -
Reverse, Z. de 6 ºn gekeer de zijde,
2) het regendeel; aud so the re-
verse, en zoº onsekverd, b if
afwisſeling.
Rèvery , z, droomsrif, in iſ mering.
to Revive , o, w, op n is a v je eas
2), b, w, b siztejen. -
to Revölve , 8 w. overwegen ; he
revolved is his mind, hiſ oyer-
woºg bij &ish &; yet.
4. Re-
44O" R. E.
Revoltåtion , z,”om wenteling ; the.
great revolution of nature, her
wreaſ ſºlijk mattiturge wrocht. .
to Reward ; b. w; be loonen, wer.
gelden. - r
Reward, z, de vergeiding, het loom.
Riband, z, cen: lint. -
Race , z, de rifft. .
R}ch , b v. rijk.
Riches, z. de rijkdom.
Richly , by. rijkelijk , , oyer-
vloedig. -
Rick, z. een hoop , his hayrick,
zijn he oiberg.
Rıd, dw. van to Rºd.
to Rid, b. w. b3 yrijden ; to gºt
rit of one, fem: and k 19 if f *a-
ken , he in los worden.
Riddle , z. ean raadſel , , in he
algemeen: eJºe on verklaar bire;
duistºre zaak. +
tg Ride, .o. en b. 'wº te paard
rijden. l
Ridge, z. eeue #67 gkút on 3
rei bergen. * p
Ridingbreeches ; z. my.. eche rif-
broek. ;
Rigging , z, de take Iſaadje, het
touw en rakalwerk van gen ſchip
Right, by. regt, 23 jºist , regt 3
you are right, gij hebt gelijk;
$3 the right hand, de regrer hand,
Right, by regr, juise; ºvéry
right, juist. - -
&
£&P 6
Right, ºz. het regt, gelijk; you
are in the right, gif hábigelijk.
Righteous, by regtſchapen; regt-
yaardig, earlijk , braaf.
Rightly, by. met regs; regena-
tigriſk. . . . . . . . . . . .
*
Riad, z, de; bast; ſchárs.' ...
Ringleader, z. de aanwoerder,
He hamá rà . . , tº
Riye , by, rijp, tifdig. … -
to Rºpen , 6, wº; it wordtne-
# kršidkamurº-
R. Oº
to Ripple 2 :r: b. . W. het
w?as has
ke/en. J
r *. -
Ripplecomb, 2.;
Rise, z. het opſiaan; the rise of.
the sun , hºt opſºa am van de
zon ; the sunrise, de zonnemop-
gazig , 2) de 0 or ſprong.
to Rise, o. we opſºa an ; rijzen , .
2) zich terh effen. -
Rising ground, z. oen verheyez
grond, he avel.' -
to Risk , b, w. wagen, iets wagen.
River, z.' da ri yier.
Riverwater, 2. hat rivier water.
R & Ad, z, d4 gro of a tweg , land-
weg, he grenweg ; near the road-
side , b if den w8g ; wilat roads
to keep , ºve!ken veg ºven moest
in flaan.
to Réaa, o, w. rendziworven.
to Roar, e. we bražlen , 2) logie
fen , gehijk de zee ºf dy # or me .
wind. - *
Róaring, 2. her geroe; ; her gebruń.
to § 6ast; b. w bradan.
Roast, dw. gebraden ; roast meat, -
gekra def: wleesch. .
to Rob, b. w. bero ovan, rooyen.
Röbber, z.: een rooyer.
Röck, Z. rots ; klip. p
Röcky, by rotsachtig , vo!'klipper,
to Röll, b. en o. wº rollen, wen-
telen the ship rolled up and
down; het ſchip ro/de heen'en
weer; some years rolled over,
denige fºrén verlo open. **
Röller; z. roſ, rôlhout.
Römän, by rome in sch, room's ch:
... a roman catholick, een rºomsch-
ge zinde, . ' . . . . . ~,
Rööf; z, her dák: * ~ *
: -
Rööm;;z, de ruimre ;here is room
# enough, hier is plaats genoeg,
& 2) #amer; the powderroom; de;
... Rºgóº.
- R Uſ
Roët, 2. de warts?.
R&pc, Z. een ºutſ'., -
Rópetnaker, z. ean toºl ºffager.
Róse, o, t. was to Rise.
R sin, 2, harst, pi * of pek.
Rötten , dw. van to Rot, verraº,
be dory ºw. - -
to R&ve, o. we rend ziva rve a to:
rove about the woods, in de
katſchen zwar yen,. . . .
&ough, by... rºw.
Rougd , b v. rowd ; ross d about,
roºdon ; a round-about way,
£er, or veg.
to Roñse , b. we ui tº dam ſlasp
ºvekken opwekkee., assinge-
digaa.
Rów, z, eeze rei.
to Röw, b. w. rosijen.
Röyal, by. kanjaklijk. -
Böyalty ... z. Koning lijke Maar-
4igheid. - A.
to Rüb, b. w. wrijven. -
Rºbbish, z, pain, painho ºpen.
Rádiment, z, de beginſelen sener
wetesſchaft, 2), has esrſfe oa-
derwijs. . . .
Şāfied, dw, was to Ruffle, gº-
X
l
Rūmbling, z. het ger a
f
ſtorten ; the blood rushed in his
443
(van des
R J
Rre ateki, kaºhelend,
zee ſpreke ade). -
Rúin, z. de endergang , vermis-
tiging , 2) mºv. de pºſthoopera.
retires, oyer blijfſehen. -
to Ruin, b. w. vernielen.
Rule , 2... regel, voorſ.hrift.
teſ , gé-
k's t ter., -
to Run , o, w. Hooper 5 to run-
into glas, f of glas tuitſ c open.
Running, dw.- van to Run , as
running footman, Geºs ſo ofter 2.
hard looper.
Rürs!, by, landelijk.
Rûsh, z, ds, bies, eere ſºort wans
watergrass. . . -
: to Rûsh, o. wi ſhe?' ea of fuinigº
loopen , plot ſº lijk voor dex dºg'
k 9x14 m 5 to rush down, medgrº .
face, her blood froomdein zijsc
dangazig? . . s’ -
. Rusting, z, hºt geraisek, rui-
ſchsars - of-the leaves, he ruše.
foken der bladen. -
Rye, z. de rog , reggae, bakander
ſpor s. van graag, - -
S A.
- . . . . . . .
Sigréârbv. hailig 5 by all that is
sacred, bij al was heilig, is.
to Sacrifices, bi, w.
Śād, bv. treu rigs, drosvig , the
*d consequences, de droevigs
guyºgen.: , , , . . . .
4 :
Şādūgººds, radar. . . .
Saddler, 2. de zaasimakers.
**º bºgelakkis, veilig issfs,
and so
behoºdin,
Nºn 55
ºpofferen', toe-
ºfsischies gazend, j.
S A - . ... "
Sáfely, by, veilig , zonder *
vaar, ge; * *kfg, he houds r. º.
Sáfety, z, de zokerheid. . .
-
Said, o, t, en dw. van. to sey, -
Sáil , 3, her zei?.. . . .”
|Sáil cloth, 2.-hat zeildoek.
was ºn , wit:silsit,
Sako, z, de sin&#swegingrºovre
zaak3 for our sake, on onzenrº
willºs, ten ansen, hsheeves for "
- - sport’s

442 S A
*Port’s sake, uit boert , voor
tijd verdriff, uit kort swijl.
Säle, z. de verkoop.
Sallied, o. t. van to Sally.
* Sälly, o. w. he sallied forth
hiſ trok af. •.
Sält, z, her &0&#5 by. zout , ge-
cºnten; to salt herrings, haria.
£6 m in peºel doen,
*ge, z, da berging", redding
*** Verangeluk te ſchepen, the
laws of wreck and salvage, het
fºram dregt.
Salutary, by, he fizaam.
Sárne , b v. zelfde 3. the very same,
fäis a Be (of het) zelfºe.
Sample, z. het wronſfer, fºa altje.
Saad, z. hot zand. .
Sandbank, 2. de zandbank.
Sandal, z, de voetzool der woe ten.
Sandy , b v. 24 nºig. *
Sānguise, by leven eig; sanguine
wishes, varige wenſºhem.
Sāt , o, t, van to Śit. .
to Sátiate, b. w. verzwdigan 3 he
gould not satiate his eyes, hij
kon zijne cogen miet verzadigen
Satisfaction , z. de beyrédiging,
v03doening , he t genoegen.
£e Satisfy, b, w, voldo an , gemºe.
gem gaven, be y redigen.
$8turday, z. z at ºrdag.
Savage, b. v. wild; z. een wilde.
to Sáve, b. w. redden, behousem;
- one’s self, zich redders, 2)
ſparen ; to save of one’s pocket
'money, van &#fs zakgºld be-
ſparen.
Sáving, z. do redding.
Sávour, z. de ſnakelijkheid.
9
Sauſage, z. een braadworst.
sau, o, t. van to sel,
Saw, z. od na za 4g.
to Sãwº, b. W. 26ggs,
| to screen, b.
S C
to Sáy, b. w. en ..o. we zeggen 5
it is said, men zegt.
Sáying, z eene ſº reuk, ean ſpreek-
woord.
to Scald, b, w, met heet water
braz, dex, & roefſ em.
Scarce, by, naa a wełijks.
to Scăre, b. w. v rees aa ºf ager, 3.
inscared out of his scufer, van
v rees but ten zich zelves.
Scarlet, z, ſº harlakem 3 by...ſº har-
laken road. *
to Scatter, b. w. "ondſ; rooijem ;
. . o. w. zich yerſ?raoffen ; – about
the woods, zich in de bosſchem
verſpºre idén, p
Scéne , z, de ſchouwplaats, 2)
een to once 1; family scenes, huis-
ſelijke sooneelen. :
Schéme , z, oftſ werp 5 plah.
Scholar, z. een gelee rée , 2) 66.6%
f; he lier , 16erling. .
School , z, de ſchool.”
Science, z, de we tenſchap.
Scientifick, by, we tenſch appelijk.
Sciffard , z. mv. eene ſolaar.
to Scoop , b, w, ui thollen, wits'
graven. .
to Scotch, b. 'w. zengen, verb ranº
den ; ths scarching heat, de & ram-
de m de hitta.
to Scorn, b. en o' wº beſpotten , .
2) werfrºaden.
to Scramble, b. en o. we klaute-"
“res, 5 to scramble on shore 2 tº a tº
land kloat cren ; to scramble
down , naar beſieden kios feren's
te Scrape, b. we ſhaven, afº
ſshrapen. . -
to Scratch , o, w. Krabben,
to Scréam, to scream out, o. W*
fghree swen gillon. -
w. he ſchermen-,
(met from ), voor icºs beſt hustem,
Scréw , z, de...ſchroef.
Scrºl
Scripte, z, bedenkel
be deněslijëh&id. . -
to scruple, o, w, halvºríg zijn,
aarzelen, i.e. s niet van zich
#an men yerkrijgaº. -
Scall, z, herſenpan , de ſchode!.
Scèllion, z. de -keakéºfoag ep.
Sciulpture., z. de 86.6/4 hoaxwk ºf.
Séa, Z. de zee. -
Séacoast, z, de knse, he ºftwand.
Séa man, z. de zeens&m a mºa-
trotry. - - -
Séa map 3, g.
*
iſk gºval , |
-- * - :
de zee kaart,
‘to -Sèarch * b. w. doorzoekers, 2)
o, w. trºt after, naar fety zoe-
ken, ney or ſchen.
Sèarch, Z. &e was rvorſching , daor.
-zog kings
Séa sick, by. zeezick.
Séason, z. e8 m de r yier jaarga-
t if den, 2 ) ºf d, geſchikte rijd, ,
in het algemees ; the fishing
season , de visch tijd. -
to Séason, b. w. toe be reidem, a sm-
riaken (van ſpijzers).
Séasonable , by geleg ºr , ten be-
hoor lijken tijäe geſthiedande.
Seasonably , b wa ge!egen, ten he-
hooriijken rijae geſchiedende.
Séat, z, de ze fed. \, , , ,
.to Sézt, b, w. Hederzetten 3. to .
be seated , -zitten. -
Sècond, by tweade. . . . . .
Sècondary, by, ondergeſt hike; a
sècondary intention, e&n win-
s der gewigrig voorine marr.
Secondly, bw. ten tweede.
y
*
**, *
§
{ - - , $ . . . - - + • H .
Sécret, by. verborgen, snbekend;
secret reasons
denom. -" - -
Secure, by, veilig, zeker, ſº
, kway, -
Sectivity, z. veilig
geheime re-
*
heid, § 26 ker-
| Széd, z, he e-zaad.; to tak
s E
to $ée, b. w. zekar.
443
take the
seeds of the flax, he Zaad was
hes y las regimen.
} to Seek, o. we (ºxee after & 13 for),
**,
*raar is is zneke
to Seču, c. w; ſshijrzen.
Seča, dw. vans to See. -
to Séize, b. we gº #pen, ya been *
2) 6-ys ryºl en's he was seized
with a violent headake, hiſ werd.
door zware heafap ijn over val-
"le?: 3 3) o- w... he seized on him,
hij pakta hem a sm.
Söldon, by. 22/dem.
Sèlf, (voornaamw.) zelf; one’s
self, złch zelf; from isself, was
* f : zich zelves. .
Sëlfdefence, z. de zálfverdediging
Sèlfdenial , z, de zelfverloochening
Self denying, by. zelfyerlooche-
mend. - ***
to Sèll, b. we verke open.
Sëlves , mw. van ze if: their own
selves, zij ze?ven.
to Sênd, b. w. 2&mden ; to send
compliments, i-ten greeten; 2)
to send forth, vºortbrengen,
venoorzaken. . - *
$ensition, z, her gewoet.
sease, z. za z in , he f zin; uig ,
2) de gewaar wording ; the sea-
ce of shome, her gevoet van
ſchaam fe; 3) verſ?and; common
sehse, he t nata turlijk ye'rff and,
-ket gezond verſtand.
a
Sènseless, by gevde Hoos, 2) ess
3.
verſtandig, , on rede'o oss
Sensibility, z, de gevoeligheid.
Sènsible, ‘by.; geyselig, 2) finar-
Atelijk, 3) markelijk; sensible
relief, markelijke verſig ring ,
4) bowust 3 to be sensible of a
thing, over twigd 'bewust zijn
Bºiá. . .
van iots s s] to make -, does
- • * - has
#44 S E.
'begrifeen 3 to rake the animal
*sensible, hof -dier doem be-
grijpen.
‘Sènsibly, by, ºrer Rolijk, vealbaaz
‘Sétit, dºw, en o' C. van to Send.
‘Sèntence , 2, he vomais , he t
0 ºrdeil. - *
-Sèntingent, zº, do meaning, he #
gev delers, -
Sentimental, by. gewes?y ol, ever-
droven gevgely 0%. - -
Sèttinel, z. da ſchildwacht. r
to Sèparate, o. W. ſcheidan 2 af.
ſº haidan, efºomtºw rom , a] o. we
vats, clºaneder ſcheidon 5 separ
..ated from all mankind, van able
ºxenſchen gaſºheidaſe.
Sèsarately, by. afzonderlijk.
Seréne, ºbv. halder , a] opgar uind. |
Serenity, a. de klaarheid, 2) op-
‘ger ºf indheid.
$érº: 9, z. de re; , regts : a series
of thoughts, eeee reeks yam gº-
rºach tem.
Sériºus , b v. ermſ?ig.
‘Seriously, by. ermſfighijk.
Sérpent, z, de flang. * *
Servant, z, die as t bode 3 man ser-
vant, knecht 3 maid servant,
‘S #
Séssion, z. de zieting.
to $ét, b. w. z atten , #elfth ; to
set sail, onder zeil gase, 2)
in eswigan to off and plaatfan ;
to skt free-, ſm ºr if he idfiel?gn;
to set on fire, in den brand fe-
ken , 3) met bijvoeging van
on dºrſcheidene bw. to set abent
a thing, fair ender next&º tº
set up a cry, een geſchreºuw
aatsheffen 3 -o, w. onáergaan:
the sun sets, do 20m £aaf on-
der; to set out, vertrekken:
to set to work, ass hºt wºrk
g data.
Set, z. de ondargàng ; the sun sets
zoznań on dargáng.
to Settle, b. w. vastfiellew 5 -
motters, de zikan verºffenon.
Settlement, z. ſchikking, over-
‘eºnkomst , 2) volkplanting 2
kolonis. -
Sèven , b v. Zeven .
Sèventeen, by, zeventic m.
S. venteenth, by, zavontiesda.
Sèventh , by, zey ende,
to Séver, b. w. aſzond ren; se”
vered of under , geſthºidan,
verſ rooid. . . -
several, by. yerſcheidan, onder-
ſcheidsh.
Scváre, by. geſtreng s - upon
one, fºreng jegens iew and,
sevérely, b wi met gefärengheid.
Severity, z. de gaſtrengheid.
to Sew, (ſpr: so), b, w, paaijan"
Shāde, z, de ſchäday. -
º 2}
v.-
to Shade, b, w, beſchadaven
ſº haduven. . . . . .
Shadow. z. de ſchs duw. -
to Shadow, o, w, beſchadawen.
in eid, diems timefit. - -
to Sérve, b. w. en o. we diemen,
he dienen, 2) voldo ende zijn:
it would not serve his turn , het
was yoor zijn oog merk miet
woldoende, 3) to t iots dietion,
mut fig zijn , 4) de plaats ver" .
yang ar; it would serve him as
a cellar, het kou de plaats van
een kelder veryamgon , s ) be-
‘handelen; I am rightly served,
ik krijg loom naar wºrkers, 6)
“do ſpijzen opdrºgen, ,-
ervice, z. de dienst.
ervile, by. ſlaaf, ch, kruſpend.
*rvitude, z. ſlayernij, dienst- |
|
-baarheid.
*, -
| Shādy, by, beſt Haduwd.
to Shike, b. w. ſchndden ; he
shook his head, hiſ ſchudda
zijn hoofd; to shake off, af
i ſº hud-
ſehºlden; to shake hands, elk-
ander de hand geven , (in-
zºnderh. bij he tafſcheid memen)
Shāke, z, dº ſchok, foot ; a hear.
ity shake, een dachtige ſchok.
to Shall, (onvoll werk.) zułłem ;
-
# shal!, ik zal, 2) be v0 egg
zijn, mogen ; shall we , anogen
, aviſ $ 3) most of.
Siłallow , by. on disp.
Shime, , z, ds ſchands , 2) do
Jeheamte. -
Shámeful, by. ſchends ºf k.
to Šbápe, b. w. yorm ers,
Shápe, z, de geſiaſte, de vorm.
*
to Sháre , b, w, d'el a , verde 6-
fen ; 2) o. we des 1 he ten.
Shkre, z. He t dee!, aan deel.
Sharer, z. de desing mer.
Sharp, by, ſcherp; 2) ſpi ty, p turt ºf g
to Sharpen, b, w, ſcherpen, 2)
pºntig maken. -
to Shatter, b. w. 3'erb riºzełęſt.
Shaving, z, her ſth sysm; the shav.
irg beam, de ſchaaf boom ; shav-
ing knife, her ſchaafijzer.
She , (voornaamw.) zij, (ſchepen
worden in het Engelsch , als
y rouwelijke z. ºn e º she aanga-
daiá, an der halvº words her
voornaamw. in zułk een geval
door het vsrtaald).
to Shèd, b. w. ferten, verg's-
ten ; to shed tears, tranen for.
ten ; to shed blood , blved ver-
sieten. . . .
: Shēd, z. een afâak, loots.
keep, z, hot ſthaap ; mv. de
ſº hapers. l
Sheet, z. een bias a sheet of
paper, een blad papier, - , ~
Shēl, z, dc ſchelp, 2) deſchaal,
d 6p. . . . . . .
to shell, b w ſchºlish, doppen |
to shell pease, orwten doppen.
|
ſch aweſi i k ;
6 g ºf afſch awaii; k Jºho swſps;.
SH 445
Słęſter, z. de ſthailplaa's , s )
esne won ing, hu is vesting. '
to Shèlter, b. w. beſt he rºsen, be-
dekken. l
to Shew , zie Show. *
to Shift, b. w. veranderen ; to
shift the sails, de z silen wen-
dan, onze ſtem : z) o. wo ocre
orders m = the wind shifts, de
wind versudºrt , 3) zich we ten
of zoeken tº help ºn ; by shift"
ing for himself, door zich zel-
wer: tá he pen. -
Shift, z. meer of sin mogeſ if ke
paging ; to make a shift , trach-
tem, pogen , zich &e he few.
to Shine, o, w, ſº hijnen ; the sun
shines, da zon ſ h if mt, : X blin-
ken ; they shone like polished
silver , , zij }}onkan als gepo-
lifst zil wer. -
Shine, z, de ſchii m × glams : the
sun shine, moon shine, zoane-
ſch if n, man eſchifri.
Shining, dw, hliskend. ,
Ship , z has ſhip. -
Shipbuilder, z ſheeps tinnerraz,
Shipbuilding, 2. de ſkheeps' oaw.
Schipwreck, z. ſchip break.
to Shipwreck, o, w, ſº hipbrett &
lifden, . . . .
Shipwright ,
tner mart,
Shirt, z, he manshend.
Shivering, z, her beven, fidderes,
z. een ſcheepstins-
Shºck, z. de ſchok.
to Shock, o. w. aan jets footen,
Stocking, dw. aanſfeotel ijk, af.
a shocking sights.
Shoë , z, de ſcº cea.
Shoemaker, z. dº ſchoºnmaker.
Shöne , dw: en o' t , van to Shine.
Shºok, o, t va” to Shake.
to Shoët , b, w, ſh: stºn , a]
*. - - Q Q -
drin-
446 S H
dringen , ſchia ren; o. wa beam
shot threugh , esſ, fraal ſchºg #
(of drong) dooy.
8%&p , z, came werkplaats; a
smith’s shop, een ſmits winkel,
esné ſmºdérij.
Shēre, z. do zesoever, wal, kurt,
het fºr and ; to go on shore, aan
wał gaan.
Shörc, by. en b wa korf , korte-
1ijk ; in a short time, in kor-
ten tijd ; to stop short, fºil
S I * +r—.--
Shröb , z, dan fºr utk.
Shrink, dw. p.m. o. t. war to Shring.
to Shidder, o, w. Adde ren, iſ zen.
to Sht; tı b. W. verrºijdea, whizdez.
to Shiit, b, w, ſlui ten , foeda en ,
wag ſuitér, 3 to shut up , ope
fitti fan. .”
Shy, b v. ſchaw.
Słck, by, ziak, on pasſelijk ; to
fall sick, zie & worden, 2) mise
ſelijk ; he grew sick, hiſ weré
mirſe lijk. g
fºa am j in short , kor to m.
&o S: ºften, b. w. verkorton ; 2),
o, w. korter worden, ºftemen,
ºn in do ren.
Saôrtly , by, in korf, in k or teh {
ti; 3. -
Shortsighted , by. hty zieh āe, .2):
#artzig tig van värſfand.
Shot, dw. em. o. t. van to Shoot.
Shot, z. htt ſcha t , hē t ſchfeger: , ,
2) kogels 5 small shot, hagods
/ch roof. . .
go Shëve, b, w, ſchuiyen, ſchof-
je jen.
8bºvel, z. eam ſchop, ſchoffe'.
Should, o. t. 9am Shall, zoude 3.
! should , ik zoude 5 we should, .
2wij zeudea. * º
Shoulder, z. de ſchowder, 2) he t
Bors ºff uk, da bout yam.een ge- .
fragt dier, º
ge Shoir, o, w, ſchree ww.so van
*1ājdſchap, juichén. i
shºt, z. het gojałch. *
shouting, z, he t gefuich.
to show , b, w. aan roomen, wif-
zez, Ja ten złºn -
shºwer, z. eena regenbuſ > *
fort regem.
shown, dw. 3 am to Show. A
to 5brink, o, w, he vig ontfellen,
onºr oard & if n > ājasons to shrink
£ack, farug doingº, -
-
Sickle, z, do ſº; el.
Sickly, by, ziekelijk.
Sickness, z. ziekte.
| Side , z, de zijde van fats; the
side of a hill, he t afhang tº
van é ºr ef, he rg ; the seaside,
de k tº st; zerkan: ; near the
roadside, 7aygr, he zijdsm des
wag, 2) tegen oys rſ34 and a far-
fijet 5 on both sides , van w8.
deriksm t , b c ºfferzijds.
Siège, z, de he leg triºg, he t belég.
Siéve, z. de zoef.
to Sift , b, w, ziftem.
to Sigh , o, w. zacht &n.
Sigh , z, de zuch t.
Sighing , z, he t zuch fert.
Sight, z. het gezig t , a het ziem;
at the first tight , pp haſ eerſ's
gezig t 5 to get eight of a thing,
iets to, zien krijg ea ; to lose
sight of a thing, jets uit her
oog werliezétis to have 2 full
sight of a thing, iers geh eel
operzi em.
Sighted, by. zionees shortsighted,
kortzig tig.
Sign, z, her reekon , ſein.
to Sign, b. we teekenen, be fee-
- kenen, 29 teekenen , onderſ de-
*exem. $.
|siº, z, hat Jein, teeken, 86
It was, .- .*
*
$ig-
S I
Siga'ſicät'on, z, d, beter kamis,
to Sigcify, b. v. bedriàes, le"
seeks ten ; the points sig5 iſy the
sandbanks s de fippé n dwide a de
zandbarken' aan ; what does it
signify 7 wat Bet eaken f haſ 7
Silence, z. ſºilzwijgen , 2) de
filte, als tusſcºeuw. silence
fºil 1 zwijg
§ſlent, by, fi!, 2) ziwijgsºm d.
Silently, bºw, ſºil, 2) zwiſ gend.
S}lly, by, dom , on I, 9 oz87s.
Silver, z. htt zi!yer.
Similar, by, gelijkvor mig.
Simple, b v, denyou dig, gnkel, 2)
kunstaloos.
Simple, z. ean bo; t erik, do moor,
b of m iſ il.
Simplicity, z, de een yrtidigheid.
Štú , z, dc zon dr.
Slace, by ſº dart diem fifd, 2)
voor, ſº derr ; long since, voor
Jangan rijd ; some time since,
feders senigen tijd.
S\sce, (woegw.) omdar, avij}.
Sincère , by. opregt, eerlijk.
Sincèrely, by, opºag t , esrlijk ;
~ if you sincerely repent , indian
ww berouw eraſ; ig is.
Sincèrity, z. opregt Heid. -
to Slºg, b on o. w. zingen; the
birds sung their morning lays,
de vegelen zongen hun mor- |
genlied; he sung with a loud
voice , hiſ zong met laider
Jºe ºn m. g. - --—- -
to Singe , b. w. zengen , war-
brander. *
Single, by, eenzaam, enkel.
to Slugle out , b, w, afzonders n.
Singular, bv, aesvoadig , a] zon-
derling. *
Singularist, 2. de zender lings.
Singularity, z, dezonderlingheid,
#e/3&aab, he id. -
S Ł 447
In
f
Q Q &
| yerſ/468.
to Sink , o. w. zin ken; his soº
was ready to sink within him,
hiſ ſº ord 4/5 “erſ; ca. 3,
Sir, z. mijn heer.
to Sit, o, z. zitten ; to sit downs
he derzº: t c is. -
Situated, by. ge!ege tº liggan de.
Situation, 2. de ligging , 3) &
to eſtamid.
S.x, by, zer.
Sixtéenth, by zestien de.
Shkth, by. ze, d6.
Sixty, by, zestig.
Sizé, 2. grootte, lengte, 2) gº-
fºal fé.
Sketch , z. eans teaksning , on ; *
19erp.
Skillſ, 2. Bekwaan, kcid, he her:-
digheid. -
to Skim, o. waiigt over he en ſco •
pºem 5 the ball skimmed along the
surface of the water, de keget
whoog over de oppervlakte van
#et water. .
Skin, z. Her vel, de huid.
to Skin, b. w. villen, hst ve! af.
ſtroopén.
Skinner, z. ssa Jeer fouwer's hui's
devel tar. -
Skirt, z. de ſchoof van een kleed,
2) het, uiterſte of einde vane
fety; the skirt of a wood, her .
bait ºn host. . .
to Skrealm , zie to Scream.
Sky, z, de he mel, het luchtrain.
to Slack, to slake, b. w. blus-
ſthen i slaked lime, gebiuschts.
kałk:
Sláin, dw, van to Sláy. -
to Slap, b. 'w. men de vlakks
hah d flaan.
Sláve, z, een ſtaaf.
Slavery , z, de ſlavernij. .
to Slay , b, w. doedeus doodflaan,
Bº'
448 S N
to Sleep, o. we ſlapen; 2) b. w.
verflapen, door ſlap en ; to sleep
away the sultry hours, de heet-
fe uren verſiapen.
Sleepy, by. flaps rig.
Sleeve , z de moa)w.
Słęnder, by dun , baigzaani.
Šlëpt , o, t. en dw, wan to Sleep.
Slice , z. 66 he ſhed a , een afge-
ſhe den pla; ſººk.
Slight, by. dun , 2) zwak, on be
dušd end. -
30 Slip, o. w. witg/ijder, 3 his
foot slipt, zijn voet ſlipre wif,
gleed uit.
$106p , z. de ſloep.
Slów, by langzagm,
Slowly, by . lang zaarn 5 his work
went on slowly, zijn work ging
langza am voore,
Slúmber, z. de ſluimering,
Sły, by ſlim , ; is tig.
Småll, by. kle in , 2) gre fig.
Smållshot, z, hag, 1, ſchroot.
Smattering , z. eene oppé rvlakki
ge k ºn de ; he had got a sma:-
tering of the english, bij had dem
x, on dy of enge!; sh go leard.
to Smell, b. en o. we riekan,
ruike m, -
Smell, z. de re ºk. -
to Smile, o, w. glimlagehew.
Smiling, z. het glimlagshan •
Sinīth , z. de ſm: id.
Smóke z die rook. -
to Sinúke, smoak, o w. rooken 5
2) w tabak rookon, 3) reo-
#en ; to smoke meat, whees ch
rooken. .*
smooth, by effon , g/a2.
to Smočth, b. w. glad , effºn
makeſt, , , " . .
Snáre , z, da wal, de frik.
to Snach, b. W. wet ten , grijp on.
Snºw, z. do ſº eeuw ; as driven
§ncW . ge/ijá yerſ, he fº £85, ºv,
S O
Stºlf, z. do ſn't, if ebok.
So, bºw. zoo; why so 7 wadzoº, 2
to Sóak, buſ. weeken, doopen ,
foppem.
to Sóar, o. wo: ich in de hoogte
yer he ſºn, y liegen ; they soar
the water, zij whic; en boy ch
h c 3 water.
to Söb , o, w. ſnikkam, wee men,
Sóber, by. m. at ig.
Sobriety , z. mas igheid, mush-
terheid.
Sóciableness, z, geze (ligheid.
Social, bu, gezellig , 2) tº 2 at-
ſchappelijk.
Society, z, de maatſchappij.
Söd, z. de zoo de , zoods wbank ,
2) de a 3rdklt it.
Soft , b v. zach t , week.
to Sofien, b. v. zacht of week
make m , 2) verzach ten, wor-
zoe ten, vertes/crer.
Softness, z, de zach theid, zach tº
moodighaid, *) de weekelijkheiß.
Söi!, z. de grond.
to Solace, b. we werk wikken ; he
solaced himself, hiſ verk wik (a
zich zel vers,
Sóldier, z. do ſºldaat.
Sºle, z. de zoo/,
zoo !).
Sole by. alleen, 88 frºg,
Sºlely, by, a fle enlijk,
Soleºn , by, ºleg tig.
Solèmnity, z. pleg tigheid, erms to
ºw rardigheid.
to Solicit, b, w, verlangen , agh-
hot, deha verzoekem.
Solicitätion, z. verlangen, warzoek.
Solicitous , by. angſ?ig , be&0m-
ºn era , zorgy w łdig , ong eras f.
(voet- of ſchoeſ,"
| S&lid, br. was f, dº uſ zadº. 3 inas-
sive , solid gold, wn asſief g o “3.
Sèlirary, b w. Cetiza 3 ºn ; a solitary
walk, ech aſ; elegen wandelweg.
Sö =
S O.
Sołitude, z. de esnzaamheid.
Sône, by, cenige; some hundred
miles, een ige hot, derd ºn jign 5
in sowe measure , 6 eniger mare.
Somebody, z, is mand.
Söymehow, buy. pp de gene of de
an aero ºr iſ ze.
Sºmething, Z, i & ff.
Sºmetimes, by ſons, ſºrtijds.
Soune what , by, jet f, is t of war,
at nigzīr; r.
Sötne where , by. grg & fif.
Sö 0 , z. zº on.
35mg, 2- gezang, Hed.
Sočt , b wa vroeg , kort 64 ºrna ,
weldra,
Soóp, z. ſhºp , ſop.
to Sc &th , b, w, verzoe ten 3 ver"
zach to a , 2) bevre digen,
3&rcerer, z. e6?? too penaar.
Sørceress, z. e6 re to 0 yars f.
Søre,b v. gewoºd-gek we fjº, kwaad;
sore eyes, kwada ooges.
Sörely , by, ſmartelijk; sorely
grieved, diep bedro eſd.
Sorrow, z, dro efheid,
Sorrowful, by. Ladroefs, treu-
rig , ellandig.
Sörry, by, bedrcefd; I am sorry
for it, her ſpijt ani; ; he was
not sorry, hij was n ſet $6.
droefs! h ºf Aero tº wale hern n; ef,
Sºrt, z. ſport, aard.
Sovereign, 2. de landvoogd, op-
perheer.
Söught, o, t, en dw, van to
Sºul, z, de ziel.
Sound, by gezon d, 2) juis; ; a
sound judgment, een juist oor-
stol.
Sośnd , z, de Flank, he tº gelaid.
Seeko,
to Sound , o, w. klinkers, laiden;|
3)b w. on derzoeken, naverſchen
Sºur 2-by, zaur; tour milk, zura
tº ſº,
s p
r Source, z, de bron."
South, z, her zuiden ; the south-
sea, de fille zsidzee.
Southeast, z. het zuidoos ten 3 by-
za i doos #:
Southwest, z, he fasid we ºf 883
bvs zuidwest.
to Sow, b. w. Zaaijan.
Späce, z. de r sim re-
Spăcious, by. rātā wº.
Spáde, z, de ſpade, de fºops
Spaniard, z, de ſpanjaard.
Spaniel, z. de waterhond, krºl-
hond. -
Spanish, by. Apaansch.
to Spåre , be w. ſparen, be ſºa-
ren , 2) verſchoonem 5 to spare
one’s life, zijn leven ſhare” .
3) over hosden ; I could have
spared so much time, #k: #0 is
zos y eel fijd overge housen-hsh -
be n , 4) set s k tºnsen 07:56 rerº,
he spared it from his own mouth,
hiſ ſº garde het air zijn eigers:
mon &
Spark, z, d, wonk.
to Sparkle, o. w. fonkeiga.
Spatterdashes, z, inv, flop kot, ſºme
to Speal: , o, en b, w; ſprekai.
Speñr, Z. sen ſpié: , piek, ſpeer.
Spècies, z- de ſo or r , aard ; of
my own species ... van mijnes'
eigenet, aard. -
Specification, z, ºn as airpos rigs'
lijst, inventaris.
Spectacle, 3, een ſchosw/bel, ros.
no cl, geºigt.
Spectátor, z. aasſehow wer.
Speed, z, de ſpoed, had ºf 3 ts'
make speed, zich hºt as fans
to Spēnd, b, w, vertes ren , six
put ten, afrºasters; he was spent
with fatigue, hºi was gchee."
449
yermoei 4, 3} tijd parſeillén;
be spect sight days at this we'ss,
453 S Pi
- S T
hiſ brage acht dagen met dit Sprightliness, z, viugheid, 6pgé.
ºver k toe : he spent his time in
running about , hiſ brag t zij .
Spent, o, t. en dw. van to Spend.
Spice, z. ſpecerif. -
Spider, z. de ſpin , ſpinnekop.
to Spill, b, w, ſtorten, vergie ten.
to Spin, b. w. ſpann 68.
Spinner, 2. de ſpinner, ſº infter.
Spirit , z. de geest , he t ſtook ;
a ) mu. Ieyem geese?.
.5pirit}ess, by. moe.do?00s, nés re.
flag fig. ; :
$pi: , z. eam braadſpit.
to Spºt, b. w. aan het ſpit ſºcken.
Spíte, z. ſhift ; in spire of, rea
ſpij e van ; in spite of their
united strength, in weerwij van
hen he ware enigde mag f. g
Splendour, z. de glans , pracſ: ; ; ;
prº ak. $
to Split, b. v. ſpliftºn.
Split, z. eene ſplees.
3o Spoil, b. we bade ryez voy-
niele?: -
3poke , o. t. van to Speake
3poken, dw. was to Speak,
Spoon , z. ſepel -
sport, z. een ſpel, wrotijkheid 3.
for sport’s sake, eit Fort swijſ.
Sportingly , by. gekſche rend ,
#ort swijland, ſchertſend.
5pb , z de v lek, de plaat; ; upon
the spot, op de plaar; 28/we.
Spolit, z: eene hais, roer, Pijp 3.
2) a watorspout , rene vojk break.
:O Språwl, o, w, ſharrelen ; he
paid him sprawling in the sand,
hiſ tside from ſparse ſend in her
zºns nºd r.
to 2pread, b, w, uitºrsidam ºve”
fºr iden , (met out, a) o, w.
zfe; a itſfreiker . Zich ye”
ſpasideno. sº
men tijd door ºne, zond loepen."
l
helbs a 5. 3) *, *hip stands in
ruinidheid, lach tigheid.
to Spring , o, w, ſpringen 5 to
spring out of the ground , sit
den grond opſpringén 2) to
spring a leak, een 19k krijged,
lek worden (van ſ, ºpé m).
Spºług, z, de 18 m ta , 2 ) da broń.
Springwater, z. by on 1922 e?".
to Sprinkle, b. w.ſºroo iſom, ſºre".
kelen he sprinkled his me?:
over with sait, hiſ befºrenkë'.
de zijn v ſec sch ºn 6 t z0 a $.
Sprung, dw, eu o' tº 9am to
Spring,
Span, dw, em o. t. 941% to Spin.
spur, z. do ſpoor ; f. 6 and ºff.
tº spy b. w. on tdekken only 4°
$.
re; , 2) a if ſº fedan.
Squíve , b, yic r hoc & #.
Sqašre z, 6 en win kalfaak,
to Square, b, w, vicehºck ig sº
key, he how we m ; to Satire bricks,
bakſ; ean on vierk at f *a*3 m.
to Squeeze, b. we wild" ºn 2
drakkt n.
to Stagger, o. wit tº me???.
Ståid, o, t, via to Stay.
to Siân, b, w. boyſékken 3 stained
with blood, ºne bioed beylek’s
Stake, z. eam pool.
Stairs, z. Inv. eas trap , de fraž%
peſs. -
Stalk, z, de fee's de hałm.
Stall, z, de fºal. ...
to Stamp, b. w. ſtamper, ºne deº
vost of genig ander work: hig 5
they stamp it out with elbows,
zi; drakken her net de • He 90°
ge m ti i S-
to stand, o, w, ſtaan ; to statié
on end, evereja de Haar, 2) fº
ze k, ren toeſ; and zijn to stand
in need of a thing, ie is moodič
ſoº’
§§§
S Tº
an island, een ſchip 2eiſt op
es n e i land aar. -
Star, z. de far, ffer.
to Stáre , o, w, ſharem , far aan-
3. * & 23.
Starry, by, geſterm d: the starry
canopy of heaven, de ferren-
he me !. -
so Start, o. woverbaasd ſaan
2) ºn ºf up, opy liezen, plotſe -
lift of ſpringen , 3) A lot ſeiijk
yo or dem dag ſpringen ; a tear
3t afted frote his eyes, ecº tra 2 m
on tſp , a ng zijn oog , , ) zích
wer he fen , zieh opa'06 tº ; some
new obstacle starts in view, esn
fris way Ac/cf/31 d set zich op.
ro Siirtle , o, w; ſchrikken, de in-
ze is, 2) b. w. ſchrik of vrges
a: ; ; ; ; 21.
ârve, c. we werhongeren.
E. : dc fºa at 5 to effan d .. 2)
e's ſº a t , her rift ; a ministe
of state, een Éastidien aor.
ºw
2 * *
Ş
12
to 3riy , o, wi iſ ecºl is ºn to ſand
Blijven ; to stay with his pārents,
&#f 23; ºne otide r s by if ye n : he
eould not stay in it, hij Ron er
tº ſet in blijvem.
8:áy, z, het vert Jijf.
Stéadſast , by vast, enbewege-
Jijk. W
Steadfastly bw, raft, on hewege-
lijk; his eyes were steadfastly
fixed, zijne oºgen ware a fiff
ge rig f. -
so Stéal, b, w, felon.
Steel, z. ſtaai, 2) een vaarfaał.
Steep , by fail.
to Steep , b, w, indo opem; beyoch-
tigen , week: ... -
Steeple, z. de kºrktor. m. , khok-
&sº wréns. -
S T 451
fio Steår, o, w, flüren ; 2) b. wr,
to steer one’s course, zijnea
koers are mem.
Steerage, z. de aehrerſ even yan
he 3 ſ, hip, the ſtaurſ;zeſ.
Stèm, z, dº ſº axi.
Stench, z. de ſtan k.
to Stěp, or w. ſtappen ; to step
to a place, n.jar een a plaats'
gaam 3 he stept behind the hedge,
hiſ ging ºchrer de heg.
tèp , z, eene ſºhºsde, een pas ,
fºap, 2) de frappex ; 3) der
vo et ſtap.
Stépt , o, t. van to Step.
Stérn , z. de achterſ: 3; en van eers'
ſch pr; a stern , van achferen.
Stéward , z de h oftees ter; high
steward of the household, d3
appa rhofme ester.
Stick, z. een ſtok, ſºof, a) esm
rim tº erhout , 3) eez i u in ſtok.
to Stick, b. w. ſº ské ºr ; 2) o, w.
freken , zítřem ; it stick so fast,
her zar zoo was t , ſ: ał zoo vast.
Sº
Y
Stiff, bº. ſtiff, on baig zaa...
o Q
to Stifle, b. W. ſtikken', ºc ºn pen;
to stifle the blood, het & Rosa
de ºpen. . -
Still , by nog, frog
neg tod.
Still, by ſºil, zorder beweging 3
he stood still , hiſ ſºond ſº iſ ,
2) zonder geraas. -
Stils ess, z, de ſºil to ; the stilness
of the night, de ſºil to vax dºm
*ach f. . . .
to Sting, b. w; ſeek&n.
Sting, z, de ange}.
to Stir, b. w. in lesyeging zer-
ten 3 to stir a mass, ssue masſ,
omr were n : 3) o. we ziº be we-
gen; he did not stir frºm the
spot, hij #wau, nius van de
f}3 aſ ſa,
#
feeds, tor
452 S T'
Stock > z, een blok ; the senteking .
stocks, 2 ) cert voor read; a
great stock of knowledge, eene
groote go is ºrd', did, veel kends.
Stöcking, z. de ko &r.
Stołe, o, t. van to Steal.
Stö1ack , z de mra gig his enººty
stºmack, zijne tº dige maag,
2) get last 3 terror had taken
away his stomack, de frh ri; had
he ºn alien ee tº a ſt be no men.
Stóze , , z, de ſteem : precious
s:cnes, ede/geſt sente n : bº. van
17
ſt can , ſ: echen ; a stone knife , .
eax ſteen en rises ; a to Ee wedge,
een ſteen&n breck: ; 26 r, .
Stoi, d, o. t. v ºn to Stand.
to Scöp., b, w. c phow de m , tegen
Jhoºl dam 3. He stopt him from fel-
ling down, hij verhān dº raid d2 =
hiſ yiel, 2) ſtep pan, verſtop-
per : 3) o. waſ #1 ſtaan , blij"
yen ſea zz, epi, o ſiden ; he stopt
short, he stop there, hier bleef
hiſ ſtaan, hier his la hij op.
Stöp, z. ſºilſt and ; to make a stop,
ſºil houden; to- put a stop to
a thing, iets ſtaken , er eer:
einde aan wakºn.
stopped, stºpt, o. t. yam to Stop
Støre, z. een voo fraad 2 e5 me ºne-
sºigte ; a storehouse, een ind-
gazijn , Pakh ais. -
*y
*>
Storm, z. de form ; 3) f to take |
his castle by storm, zijn kas-
geeſ ſtor men dør hand in ne mea.
Stormy, by ſº or machtig.
S.6ry, z. de verdicping , (vah-den
ha; ; ), 2) ket wºrrelſe!.
Stott,... by. ſter k. ; a stout young
fellow, aen wakkere 2, #lvske
jong em. - - - -
Szöve , z, de kage.ht 1.
go Stów , b, w, op zºne behoor.
! #42 ºf J.P. fºgg: 34
M.
St: āight , b v, regr.
S T'
to Sträggle, o, w, rondzwerves.
Sträggling, z. ſ. cº rondzverwen.
Straight, Z. de zºdºng te; the straight
of ca’ais, hat Kawaal. \.
Stränd , z. het ſtrand, de kus f.
*o Strand , o, w, ſº randez, op he t
fº rand raken. t
Stränge, by. zełdzaam , zonder-
ling , oºge me, n,
Stränger, z. de y re emdeling ; to
be 3 stranger to féaſ, gee we wreas
Kem man.
to Stångle, b, w, verſ; if kam 3
10 urgen. -
Stratagºm'; z. ser: a krijgslis r,
to Stréarn , o. we ſtroom, em, vlo e if ex
Strečt , z, de frast.
Strºagth , z, 34 k racht , ſigrk te.
to Strengthen, b. w; varſierken.
ze Strétch, b, w, ui ºff rekken 3 ->
out one’s werried liabs, zijne
marre 16 des uitſ rekken ; --
one’s hard, &e hān d tº itſfeke; ;
2) o. we zich witſ; rekken.
Strict, bv. naa a whº urig ; strict
obedience, fºr kreg shooraaaas-
heid.
Stride, z. eene ſkh rede.
to Strike , b, w, ſtaan , floppe 2-5
he struck his meat, hiſ klap to
zijn y!e esch; 2) o w; the light-
ning struck into the tree', he 8
wearlicht floeg in den boom ºf
s) to strike upon a seabank 2
fºr an deſ; * - — . . . .
Strycg, z. een ſh9er, koor d.
to Strät g, o. w.afhalem 3 to string
tjääus, booz dº afhalen,
to Stºp, b, w, de Fedekking wegnes
* en , a],zi ch ui tº ſeeds a , (née
off), 3) ſchi //em , pellen ; he
#st t f the bark, hiſ deed ºr
do ſºlº l yán of
Striš,
S Ü
Striped, by, geñre ept ; striped li-
men, gefºre ept if ºn 6 m.
to Strive, o, w freyer: , pogen,
trach ten , zijne Rrash ten aan-
wen setz.
3tráke , z. e6% flag; a stroke of
fortune, egº ong ºf k, een ſlag.
to Ströke, b. w. ſº refer.
Ströng, by fierk ; strong ſiquors,
far ke dranken, *
Strongly , by. Krachtig., madrak-
kglijk. -
Strove , o. t. van to Strive.
8track, o. t. c & dw. van to Strike;
-- with confusion, h eſchaar: d
- with an idea, plotſe lijk of
ee me ge: a chte ko men de.
to Sträggle, o, w, worſe?em , in
: we c.ſ; rijd zijn ; without strug-
gle, zon der wedgrfand.
Stuck, dw. en o. t. van to Stick.
• to Stúdy, b. W. ffude rem, aa-
denken.
Stuff, z, do ſoft.
to Stuff, b. w. ſappen, ep/Foppen.
to Sºn . b. W. words oven, 2) doen
0 a t/faller,
Stung, o. t. van to Sting.
Stupefaction, z. ontfeitenis, yer.
&azing. -
Stúpid, by dom , bor. y
Stupidity, z. de domheid.
to Stutter , o, w, fºotterers, fa.
me/en 3 with a stuttering voice,
met ee t e fºot to rende ſtem.
Subject, by oxderworpen; sūb-
ject to terror, aan dwaling on
der worp em. - -
Słºbject, z, de enderdaan.
Subjection, z. de on derwerping.
Šublime, by. varhe vens -
Submission , z, de on deriverpºwg.
to Submit, b. w. on derwerpen ;
2) o. w
* $o the will of providence,
l
O O 5
gich on der werf ex ; ;
k’
*.
S U 453.
zich dam Gods wil onder-
Twerpens.
to Subside, o. w vałlex, afme-
zon ; the water subsided, fist
water maw ºf, lisp af.
to Subsist, o. v. & effaan 2) fe:
lever, he $5er: ; to subsist on a
thiug, varz fats Jeze”.
| Subsistence , z. de l'o or r da ring ,
5 - 9
2) list or dc rhead, de 26 year-
*x diffe Hen.
Subsistute, z, ºs plaaf rver vangers.
Subterráneous, by. 61, deraards ch,
to Succéed, o. v. opyolger: ; one
another, op a lºan der valgen,
2) ſagen, gelukkig zijn is:-
i e ſ : ; he succeeded in his endeas
vours, hiſ fleagde in zijme po-
gingen , 3) gelukken, it succee-
ded , he t ge; tıkte.
| Success, he gelukkig gevoig, de-
goede tº itſlag.
| Successful 2 by, gelukkig.
Succèssion , z. de opy olging; -
of the days, her veryolg van
dagen. -
Succèssive, by. achtgreenwolgend.
Sūch, by. zułk; such a neise, zalk
een geraas. r
to Suck, b: en o. we zuigan 5 to
suck out, sit zuigan.
Südden, by. p30tſhrifk, onver-
ºvach r. . . .
Suddenly, by plot ſºlijk, onvers
wach tr. -
to Sùſfer, b. en or w. Hjden, wit-
faaw, 2) dulden, verdrager: ,
3) 1 c ten , geſchi s㺠º $ which he
suffered to perish, we lºe hij
list onkonss.
Sûfferance, z. de ſmart, het on-
go ºn a K.
Sufferer, z. de lijder ; these poor
sufferers. , dezº srma ange lak-
kigen, - -
Stafe
454 S U.
Süffering, 2, he t /jj dam, het on-
£ 6 m 2k, de ſºn arc. -
to Suffice , o, w. genoeg zijn,
*94 reikema zija.
Sufficient, bv. ge:0°g, to era i kend.
Snåciently, b wi géºgèg , tos re?”
kº ng, ~
Süzar, z, de ſuiker.
Sügar came, her ſutkerrier.
to Suggest, b. w. i ngayen, in den
*** g even , bij}rengen.
Shit, z. een kleed; a suit of
clotties, con. vo/le dig #!eed.
to Süir , o, w, pasſen , zich ſchik-
** 3 2) b. w. to sait one’s pa-
late , eangena 2 in op da tong
zijn, ºvel ſnaken it suited
their strength, het was aan had.
me krach ten geeyenre dig d.
Súitable, bv. evearedig, gapast.
Süllen, by, omgelakkig,/chadelijk
Sültry, by. zoel, heet.
Stim z. de ſºm, het geha ºf.
Sümmer, z. de zoºmer.
Summer clothes,. z. mv. de zumer-
klee de raz.
Sºminic, z, da top , de ſhiff, (van
een ºn larg).
te Simmon - b. w; met up, opei.
fºhen 5 he sammoned up all his
strength , h if verza melde aſſe
zijne k rach ten.
Sun , z, de zon.
Sunbéam , z. do zvnme&raal,
Sünday, 2, zondag.
Sång, o. r. van to Sing.
Sunrise , z. dº ops ang dºr zon.
Sunshiae, z, de zonneſch if n. ,
Superfláity, z. de every load.
Supérfluons, by, every ſee dig.
Supérior, by. hooger, 2) oyst -
treffende, meerder.
Superiöricy, z, da meerda rheid,
2) hearſchappij.
Supernºural, by boyannatuurlijk.
S U
Súperstition, 2. het bijge's of:
Supe, scicious , b v. & if gelſ, a wig.
Süpper, 2. de 4 voºdºnaali ijd.
Süpplicant, g. 68 a ſuppf tº a 3, #8,
is 4.5 d die yer zºoks of ſºme c kt.
to Süpplicate, b. v. ſtage ken ; in
a supplicatiog posture , in eene
ſnºeekende h; a ding.
to Supply , b, w, &c ºf g g ebzek
aan v uſ le n > 1) de plast f van
iets terranga A , to supply one’s
place, je mººds & Jaafs 4 g klec.
dem, 2) toere iken.
Suppºrt, z. de fa un , onderffes-
míng, & ) he # 0x86 rh943, d6
noogarufk.
to Support, b. w. ends rgetszen 9
bijſłat n , 3 } on derhoudga 2
toe dam,
Suppértable, but dragelijk.
Supporter, z. do onderſte wher.
to Suppose, b. w; onderſ; elſea,
yooronderſhallen, x) gelo ovens
vermoeden, wanen; his suppos
sed happiness-, zijn gewaand
A eluk,
Supposition , z, da vooronda rº
ſtelling. -
to Suppress, b, w, on derdrakkºw,
made ritrakken g suppressed by
gief, dog r dro efheidge dra £5.
Supréme, by. he r , de', koegſte,
y o ornaamſ; e, apperſte; the sa-
preme being, her opperwazen.
Sãre , b v. gervis; I am sure , i kº
ban verzekera ; to be sure ,
zakerlijk ; 2) be sure to trust
in God, yers rouw boyan alle f
op God.-
Sûre, b we zeksz lifk,zonder twijfel
Surely, b we zakarlijk, zondar
twiſfei. -
| Sirety, z. de zekerheid.
Sūrace , z. de oppory lakte.
Suruise, z, her verg. oedem,
E9"
S W
to Sarmount, b, w. borem ko mem.
to Surpăss , b, w, over-ref n.
Surprise, 2. de verbazing , y &r-
won hering , worrasſisg to
surprise , b, w, verrasſer, 2)
ºr hazen, verwunds rem ; to be
surprised, yerbaasd zijn,
Surprising, b v, verbszew d , ovon
derlijk, ye-refſend.
Surprising, by. Verbaze n: , qº-on-
derlijk, verrasſend.
to Surrënder, o, w. zich over-
g eye?”. *
to Sarréund , b, w, on ringe m, in-
flu is sm. *-
to Survèy , b, w. Cyerziert ,
ep zig 2 he be n.
to Survive , o, w, em b. w. 9 yer-
23 ver- -
Surviver, z. de lang; riſe rend ?.
to Suspéct, b. w. want row we n .
argwaan he blen, k was 3 ye r-
or oedem of yree zon. -
Suspècted, b v. verdacht.
§ 0s pèrse , z. de 02123 kerhef d.
Srspicion, 2. do argraan, ach-
terdoch t.
Suspicious ,
2) verdasht.
to sustain , b, w, onderhoude n .
fºr ſtand h orderſ. ". .
Sistenaryce, z. d5 or & erſ: a tº d ,
enderſtatiºn ing, he f on derk 2 ºd.
to Swallow , b. we inflokker, 5 she
could bot swallow any th; ag,
zij k on tricts him me tº kräfge tº ,
c) (r1et up), van eam efgrand,
verſiaden , inzwelgem 5 swal-
lowed up by the waves, dog: de
her
bv, a cf. ferdoch fig ,
gohydſ, imgeſ/v K t.
S. Y
Swain , .o. t. 947 to Swim.
to Swkar, o. w zºve are it.
Sweat, E. het zwe or ; the deadly
sweat, he f d a dzweet.
to Sweat, o, w. zweeten, 2) in
her zwe et , & an he t 2 week ,
zweetend ſnakan , doen zwee-
ºf en ; to sweft the skins, de hui-
dem d. cn zweeten.
Sweeping, z. m.w.. het veeg ſe! »
ſºof ( yam grazen, enz.)
Sweet, by. zoef , a azgen aa ºn.
to Swell, o, wi zweilem, op zwe?.
Jen 2) b , w. doers opzwe?lem •
op blaze n 3 when the wind swell-
ed the suit, to r ds wind de
zeile n deed zws ; len.
Swift , b v. ſagº, y lug.
Swift sess, z. de ſm & Pheid.
to Swim , o. we zwe m wiez, drify ca,
Sw’ miming , 2, her zwe tº ºrem.
Swizzerland, Switzerland, z. Z wite
for law d.
Swºllen , dwy, w.r.t. to Swall.
Swo ºn , Z. de oz ºn ag f ; he fell
into a swoon, h iſ tie ſix o a magf.
Swºrl, z de drº ex .
Swºre , n. t. was to Svěar.
Sy!!6' le , z. ee n e #e t t erg reap,
to Syxºp a hi.e., o w. fried age yog-
!ew , rºse de l if d e º , ºedd lijden,
he bb8 m.
Sympa.hy, z, bef tº 8 degs yogl, ºne-
d5! ºf dea,
Sympton , z. rocya' in eene ziek-
fe 2) ſeeke a , ken ree ken 3
sya atom of life , cer, taekºs
van Jøyens
455
P
T A
Table, z, tafst, 2) ſchrift afeſ.
Táil, z, de ſea art.
Tăiled, by. geſtaart,
fra are ; a long tailed åpe, een
cap mes-gen laziga it ſºarf.
Táilor, z. eam, kles do r maker,
fºtfjäey. -
to Táint, o w. hagin men tº be.
derwen; the meat was alrézdy
tainted; he t ylcerch was raed ;
a angeſt okan. {
to Take, b. w. no men , weg ne-
13 er: ; to take i awe , aſſcheid
riſe men ; he took his airn, hij
* : *te.; to take a walk, a tour ,
a journey : eeria wan deling , een
soe r fje , ea n e re is do 6m 3 to
take place , plaats vinda n 5 to
take a thought, estlé gé d'ach c
kebbe; ; to take ſire, w tº it roa:-
tº tº , iz brand gerak en ; to be
taken iſ , zick word: n 3 to take
the advantage , da gelage m heid
ºvatiz n e º sm : it wiłł take up
much time, he r zal week tijds
º'er eiſch e º f to be taken with a
thing, zich met i ºf s drak be-
zig hou dem.
Tále, z. de vertelling.
Ato Talk , o, w, ſpreken , praten ,
bałęe ſets. -
Tall, hw. lang , groos, Kvan gée
ſº alre),
Tallºw , z. talk 2
Tâme, by. farm.
to Táme, b. w. term men , fath
rakem. -
Tan , z run , Jooſjers ran.
Tºnner, z. ean 'oof, er,
Tanpºt, z. eam 100 if ers pur.
to Tap , b w. cemen zach ten flag
met de hand gever,
Tartar, z. cers tarraar, (yolk yam
aízie),
yet, ſneer.
*ef ee? .
‘i º
Task , z, dº taał, her ºver k,
to Tºste, b. w. pro ever: ; a jo, w,
esmen ſinaak ( p an iºts) heł.
ben, rza &r iets fºr a kem,
Tästeless, b w. finake ſoos. -
Tóngbt , o, t, en dw. van to Téack,
Táwny, by, geeſ , t an ig , koper.
kle urig.
Tax, z, ecne belast int.g.
Téa , z de the e ; a dish of tea,
a cup of tºa, een kop; a chee.
Téacup, z. een the cKopje.
to Téach, b. w; on dorwijzen, is 6.
ren (a an i e º and ). -
Téacher, z. de onderwijzer, Jaére
meester.
Téar, z. de traan.
to Téar, b, w, ſº he aren , war.
/ he uren 3 to tear to pieces, in
ſ; tıkkar, ſº he urea.
to Té2se, b, w, kwellen, p?agen,
last ig vallem . ~~~~
Tćd tº us , b v. has r?g , t ery elem d.
Tédiousness, z, last ig he id , were
velendheid.
Tešth, my... yan Tooth, .
Tè"tº cope, z. de tale skoop, ver.
rekijk's r.
to Telt, o, en b, w, zeggen, ver,
tellem , verhaſe 1,
Tèmperance, Z. de in a tigheid,
Tèmperate, by. mat fg, gem a tigº.
Tempest, Z. de ſtor in , he f on"
we der.
Tèrple, z, de temps!.
to Tempt , b, w.-lokk &m , terge?,
in per zoeking brengen, wºre
Heiden ; to be tempted to ims"
gije, bijn a denken.
Tenºtátion , z, verzoekingo
Tèn, by. tien,
Ten tº mes, tie v × sa).
to Tènd , o, w. dosſen 2 aft”
loop 6 ms Tétis
T. H.
Ténder, bv. zacht, murwº, 2)"
tée der ; from his tender youth,
yam zijne fee dere fe ug d.
Tènderly, bº. teederlijk , 2) wee. ,
kelijk; tenderly brought up ,
weekelijk opgey oed. -
Tèndergess, z, teederheid.
Tène riff, z, he t e i land Teneriffe,
ten wes ten van Afrika,
Tènt, z. de tent.
Těpth, by. tie mala.
to Tèrminate , b, w. 8 indigen ,
aang renze m.
Tërrible, b v. ſchrikkelijk, y reef-
felijk.
Terribly, buy. ſchrikkelijk, wrees-
felijk.
to Tèrrify, b. w. verſchrikken,
wreef aan fag em.
Territory, z, grondzeb fed, land •
ſ: reck.
Tërror , z. de ſchrik, y rees;
struck with terror, van ſchrik
oyermee ster d.
to Testify , b. en o. we be; tigen,
be vestigen , get uig em.
Tèstimony, z, get uige ºf s.
Text , z, de tekst, (in regenſ, el-
Jing van de aan rer kingen X.
Tèxture , z, he t we eſſel, maak ſel.
Thámes, z, de Teems, eene ri-
vier in Engeland.
Than , (voegw. Volgenda op dem
vergel. trap), dan.
to Thank, b. W. danken, be-
danken.
Thanks, mw, dank, dank betui-
ging ; to give hearty thanks, har.
telijk danken. • ,
Thankful, by, dankhaar, er kon-
telijk. . . - .
Thankfully, by. idan ki acr; ºr-.
#ent elijk. . . . . .
*: , (voornwamwoord), die,
zi, 2) (in plmats van which,
ToucLwhom , ) wałke, die , dion.
T H
That, (voegw.), opdat, dat.
Thatch, z. een ſtroodak.
The , (bepal. lidw.), de , hers
2) bij vergelijkingen ; the more,
d6s te meer. -
Thee, (perſ, voornaamw. in den
3 on 4 naamval) u.
Their, (bezittel. voornaamw.) ham,
humne, haar, hare, derzelver.
Them, (perſ. voornaamw. in den
3 en 4 naamv, ) han , he m, haar-
Themselves , (voornaamw.) hens
ze/ven , hun zefyen , zich.
Thén , by dam , als dan ,
daar 0 m.
Thénce, by. from thence, thence,
van daar.
Thére, by. daar; there was once •
daar was een f.
Thérefore, by daarom, desweges.
Théreof, by. daaryan.
457
2)
Théreupon, buy. daar op.
Thése, (aanw. voornaam w. meerve
wan) this , de ze. -
They , (perſ voornaamw.mv.) zij.
Thick, by. dik , dig t.
Thickness, -z, de dikte.
Thief, z. de dief.
Thigh , z, dc di; , he t dikka way:
het been 3 the thighbone , he g .
dijbe 6 m. -
Thin , b v. dwin , zwak.
Thine, voorn, de, het awe, de awen.
Thing , z. een ding, zeke, fets,
Cook even als in het hollandsch,
om ºne delijden of verachting
wit te drukken ; the poor thing,
het arme ding ), . *
to Think, o, w, de miken, met on,
a ºn tet f, aui. Hemand; — to
think on a thing, on a person.
Thinking, z. htt denken.
Third , b v. de rae, . *-
Thirdlys by, ten derde, in de
der de plaats. . .
P P | Thirst,
458 T H
‘Thirst, z, de dorst.
Thirsty, by, dor ftig.
Thirteenth , by. der ºf ende.
Thirtieth, lºv. dertigſke.
Thirty, by der tig.
†his, (aanw. voorn.) dir, dezº.
Thither, bur. daarheen.
Tho", we ré or s yan Though, hoe-
wel, ſchoon , of choon.
Thorn, z. 40 orn.
Thorough, bu'. door en door, door
Re; gé heel º a thoroughpaced
£usbandman, een do or en de or
eryare nº landba & wer.
Thörorighly , by geheel em al ,
4s or ent door.
Thése, (aan w. voorn.) my, van
that, die gene.
Thºu, (voorn.) gij.
Though , zie Tho’.
Thought, o, to en dw- was to
... Think.
Thought, z. de gedachte.
Thoughtless , b v. gedachtelo of ,
oakedachtzagº. -
Thousand, by. duisend.
ºhréad, z. g aren , draad, to sw-
Threat , z, dref ging.
to Threaten, b, w, droigen , be-
&re igen. -
Thrée, by. drfe.
go Thrash, trash, b. 'w, dorſchem.
Threw, o. t. yam to Throw.
Thrice, by. Arian alan, drie maał.
Thro”, in piaats van Through ,
zie Through.
Thr6at, z. de keel.
Through, wa, door, doºr middel
van ; 2) by, door, door an doer,
zie Thorough. -
Thrºughout, va. en by: door en'.
door, door he t geheel.
to Throw , b, w, werpen s it threw
him into a consumption, hiſ wiel
T. O
daardoor is eene teringziekfe,
2) ſtoo tem. k
#
} to Thrüst, b. w. footen, ſton-
pen, indringen.
| Thrust, z. een ſºa of , fºom.p.
Thumb, z. de daim. }
| Thünder, z. de donder ; thunder-
clap, dondarſ!ag.
; Thunderer, z. de donderdar.
# Thursday, z, donderdag.
Thus, by, zoo , al.200, dur.
Thy, voorn. uw, wºve.
Thyself, voorn, gij zelf, u zelven.
Tide, z, dc vioed, he t t if, de
eb tº e. t
Tidings, z, inv. de marig t , he
be rig to de if ding.
to Tie; b. w. binden, vastbidden.
| Tie, z. de band.
4 Tiger, z. de ºf ger.
Tight, bu. dig t, vast , ferk.
Tile, z. de rig che!, dakpan.
| Till, woegw. to f ; till now , tºº
ns toe , to t d at .
Time, z, da tijd ; the time to
come, de toe ko tº st; 2) maal ,
re is ; three times, drie maleſ -
dric maal ; five times , y iffmº
len ; an hundred times, hom-
derdmaal.
Timidity, z. de beſchroomdheid.
Timorous, by. vroesachtig.
Tinder, z. tonder.
to Tire, b. en o, w, vermoeifen ,
moeds make n, moede worden .
veryelen ; to be tired of a thing,
gene zaak moe.de zijn.
Tiresome, by veryelend, lastić,
moeijelijk.
*T is, in plaats van it is.
Title, z, tirel, eernaam, naam.
To , vz. tot, re; to - day, hede.”
van daag ; to-morrow, mº"
gen, 2) altijd voor de on?
paalde wift der wºrkw. **
T O
T R 459.
Touchstone, z, de feet ºffeen.
Tough , ( uitgeſoroken a is tuf),
bv. taai, ſtiff, 2) bij aanheus'
dendheid moe iſ elijk; a tough
piece of work, ean zwaar, las-
tig wark. - • .
Töur, z. sene kleitre re is ; tºy
take a tour, een landrºisie, eers'
foer 1je do em. .
Tow , z, he werk, de floff, waar,
vam nº em to a w ex Rabels were:
vaardigt. - -
Towards, v2. maar, maar hees;
2) buy nahij.
Tº wel , z. de handdeek.
Town , z, de fad.
Tby , 2 ſpeelgºed, wiſe wasfs.
Trace , z. her pagr.”
Trac: , 2, #reek ; a tract of land,
e8 me fºresk lands.
Tractable, by handelbaar, ten-
buar a tractable animal, eer,
handcl.b.aaº die r. - -
Tráde, z. koog hander, 2) de
brot a winning , han tº ring.
to Tré te , o, w, handel drijves.
Träuer, z hande laar , koopman &
a Guinea trader, sen Guinea-
vaarder. *.
Tráin , z. her gev org.
T âitor , 2. de verradar ; he
proved a traitor, hij werd tros-
we loos. ** .
Tranquil, by ge rare, ſºil.
Tranquillity, z, de geru theid.
to Transcribe , b. w. afſchrif vers, tº
to Transgress, b. w. overſhrifsen,
o y 6 rº reden.
Trausgrèssion , z. overrreding,
in break (op eens wet of voor-
ſchrift). -
Trànsitory , by voorbijgaawº,
*
to begin, to see , to work, to
I tº Sts
Togéther, by. te zamen.
Tóken, z. het ſe?n , het teeken,
Tºld , dw. en o. t. van to Tell;
Tolerable, by tamelijk, drag elijk.
Tolerably, buw. tame lifke
to Tolerate, b. w. dulden 3 ver-
drag em.
Töne , z. de foom. .
Töngs, z. m.w. de fong.
Törgue, z. de foxg , 2) de raaſ.
Tôo, by. ook, daa rhij ; daard tº
boven, er bij ; voor een bijº. of
bijw. te, als: too great, te groof.
Toék, o. t. was to Take
Tôol, z, werkraig, goreedſ hap.
Tooth, z, de tand ; inv. tee h ,
ran den ; the wind blew in their
teeth, de wind was han tegen.
Töp, z. de top , ſpits, kra in ;
the top of a hill, de krain van
'eenen be ré ; – of his cavern,
he t dak van zijn hol.
Töre, o. t. van to Tear;
Torrent, z, de froom ; the rain
gushed down like a torrent, de
regen for tte meder als ean
fºrgom. .
Tortoise, z. ſchildpad, land-
Johildpad, de zeeſchildpad heet
eigen lifk türtle.
to Toss , b.
ſchokkan of ſlingeron ; the ship
was tossed àp and down, he r
ſchip werd op en meer geſlingard.
Tost, dw. yam to Toss.
Tótally , by, geh eel lifk’, gan-
f: he hijk, gehéel an al.
to Touch, b. w. Beroe ran , aan-
raken , 2) ºr effon, aandoening
veroorzaken, 3) o. we aan fºoo-
*
w. he en en weer |
ten , . blijven hangen , was: yan kor ran du ur.
zitten. - to Trans'Ate b, w, verrales,
Touchhole, z. het z andgat, overzetten. -
' ' P. p 2. Trans-
Translation, 2. de vertaling.
Traospirásion, z, witwafeming,
- 21Wę62 f, -
to Tra isplant, b. w. verplanten,
overſ, lam; em.
to Transport, b. w. veryoe rem ,
vº º plear/2 m.
460
Transport, z, verrukking ; – of
joy, ver, ukking van blijdſchap. :
Z. de Trave, een vaar-
* are rivier in Holffe in, voor.
Tráve ,
bij Labek froomem de , aan der-
3e/yºr mond bij de Oostzee Jigt
Trave monde. *-
to Travel, o. w. reizan.
Travel, z. de landreize.
Traveller, z. de reiziger,
Tráy, z, een trog, hak.
Tr:acherously bw. verraderlijk.
to Tréad, b. w. ſtampen ; they
trèad the juice out with their
feet, zij ſtampen er her ſap
met de voetem wit.
Trèasure, z de ſº hat.
to Tréat, b, w, behandelen, on t-
- halen : 2) o. we ham de len.
Tréatise, z. het verdrag, 2) de
ºverhan deling.
Trée , z. de & o orn.
to Trêmble, o. we beven , ſºdder em.
Tremèndous, by ſchrikkelijk ,
vreesſelijk.
Trèncher, z. een hot ten ſchotel
of tafel bord.
Trial, z. de pro ef, beproeving.
Triângular, by. driehoekig.
Tribute , z. de ſchafting.
Trice, z. een oogenblik ; in a tri-
ce , met eemen ſprong.
o Trickle, o. w. droppalam : a
tear trickled down , eene traam
v Roe i de langs zijne wang.
Trifle, z, be uzeling ; mere trifles,
k]ein ighedan. -
Trifling , by, on bed uidend, bear
T R
zelachtig , ongº wigtig, 2. bert, - .
zaling. - -
Trigger, z. de veer waar mede
men een ſchiotgeweer afir a kt.
Trinkets, z. m.w.. ſpee?goed, be u-
ze lingen.
Trip, z. een uitſ; apſe ; to take 2.
trip over to England, een tog t-
je naar Engeland doen.
Trivial, by, gering, on beduidend.
| Triumph, z, de zegepraal, he tº
gef u ich,
Triumphant, by. zegepralend.
Trid, tróde, o. t. van to Tread,
Trôop , zie Troup.
Trophy, z. zege teeken, trofee.
Tropice , tropick, z. de keerkring.
to Trôuble, b. w veron trusten,
forem, ; 2) to trouble one’s self
about a thing', zich met iers he-
m 00 if em. , zich a an is ts ge!eger”
late m zijn ; to trouble one’s
head , zich he t hoofd breken.
Trouble, z. de onrust , moeite,
wºrwarring ; without the least
trouble, zon der eenige anoeite.
Troubled, dw. troubled water,
t rod be l water.
Troublesome , b v. moeij elijk, l as .
tig , ye fontrast end.
Troup, troop , z. Froe?, hoop,
bend 6 men igte.
Trowel , z. eers froſſel.
Trüe, by get rouw, echt , waar;
it is true, het is waar.
Trúly, by. wadrlijk.
Trünk , z. de fºam van eemen:
boom:. .
Trüst, z, he t vert rouwen , 2) he f
amb f ; places of trust , eer-
amb ten.
to Trust, o, w, zijn vert rouwen
fellen, vert rouwen ; to trust
in God, op God vertrouwen.
| Trustée, z, ten yertrouweling 2,
2)
* T U
2) is mand aan wien men ist:
foe vert roadw f. -
Tráth, z. de gerro ºwheid, 2)
waarheid.
to Try", o, en b. w; baprosyan',
pogen. -
Tūb , z. eene tobbe, ton, var.
Tilft, z, eam bosch , yle chr.
to Tümble, o. wiven telen, tai-
fºre lº n; the storm made the rocks f
tumble down, de form wierp
de rotſen made r.
Tümult, z, de veravarring, her
ge raas , de gploop; a timult of
joy, een vre ugde fee ºr , laid- |
2
r a chtig yre agdebe drijf.
Tú.e., z. de wifs van een gezang;
I’ll teach you the tune of it,
ik zal a de melodie , da wijs
daar yan le are n. \
to Tüne; b. w. femsen ; tune
thou my heart to godliness, ſºam
rº, if n hart to t gºod vrucht.
to Türn, b. w. Yven den , draai-
jen 5 he turned his eyes upwards,
hiſ wenddę zijne oogen hem el-
ºwa arts 5 to turn the spit, her
fpit om draaij ºm > 2) aan wen-
den s to turn to some ase, to t.
senig gehr aik aanwenden ; 3)}}
o, w, verkee ren, veranderen 5
turned into dust, tat flof yer-
T Y 461
Reard', 4') worden ; to turn; a
farmer, eam landman worderº a
5) draaiyen, omkeeramº 5 he
; turned his back, hiſ keerds
den rug. .. - * --
Turn, 2...de bearr; when it would
come to his turnº, yanmeer de
baart aan he m zoºde #owroºp,
2) de veran dering ; a turn of
fortune, een a mke gºing van gº-
lak; by turns, bff afwisſaling,
(bsurf em. bsart): -
| Turtle, z. de zeeſchildpad.
*T was , verkort of $º pºlaatsºyan
it was. - -
Twelfth, by. twaalfdar.
Twelve, by, twaalf.
Twentieth, by twin rigſfºs.
, Twenty, by. twin fig. -
Twice, by... tween aał.-
Twig, z. de fak. *
to Twist, ba ºw. draaijan , ºffeehs
ten ; to twist-ropes, to uw y lech.
s ten ; he twisted a kind of roof,
hij y loch t eene ſoore vars: dak.
Twó , , (sitgeſºr...als. Toeji, by.
tºva 63-two legged, ºwes been ig.
Tyger, zie, Tiger. . . . . • *
Tyranny, z, dwingelandif., 2)
ºw reedheid, ' " - -
Tyrant, 2... dwidgeland, a) wresd
- sard.
*
&mbrèlla, Z. de zon neſtherm, parasor.
Unable, by, on be kwaan, krach-
telhor. * , - - r
Unaccèmplished, by, on yokooja',
- onyo Imaakr, & ' ' .
*Jaacquaiated, by. on be kend. º
Waalterable, by, onvºranderlijk.
: “ . J. "
P. p 3
Uganimous, by eenſfew infg.
Unanimously, bº, eenſteinnig. 2. '
Unavoidable, by. onvermiſdelijk.
Upavoidably, by onversifasiijk.
to Unbend, o, w, verſappen, ſtag
worden ; 3) by w.ºnthiaſish,
lof make n.' ' ' > -º, f
* * * * : . . . . . ~3. . . . . . .
- it * * * ~ * * * * * * *- : * ~ *
ºr *
i
Un



462 UN
Unburied, by. on begraven.
Uncertain, by. ongewis, onzeker.
Uncertainty, z. onzekerheid.
Unchangeable, by. onveranderlijk.
Uncivilized, by. onbeſchaafa, raw.
Uncle, z. de 00 m.
Uncommon, by. ongewoon, zeid-
Zaº (3×3
Unconcéivable, by. on begrijpelijk.
Unconcérned, by, onverſchillig,
on be kommerd.
Undamaged, bv. on beſt hadigd.
Undáunted, by- onverſchrekken.
to Undeceive, b. w. i emand wit
dem droom helpen, zijne dwa-
Jing doen ziem ; he was unde-
ceived, hij merkta zijne dhva-
ling.’
Under, v2. on der; to be under
the sad mistake , de treurige
tºwaling begaas.
to Undergö, b. w. on dergaan ,
verdr agen, duºden. -
Underućath, by. onder, benedem,
orm laag. * --
Underpart, z, het ondarße ge -
deel re.
to Understand, b. w. verſaan ,
begrijpen.
Understanding , z, he # yerſ#aard.
{Jnderstood, o. it. Bn dw. van to
Understand. !,
to Undertäke, b. W. on dermemen,
beproe 9en.
Undertáking, z, de onderneming,
de prosve.
Underto6k, o. t. van to Undertake.
Underwood, z. het kreupelboſch,
kreupelhost. -
Undescribable, by. ombeſchriffs
Jijk, he ter not to be described.
WJndetërmined," by. onbeſlist , 2)
beſlui taloos. , - . .
Undissèmbled, by, ongevejusd.
Wndisturbed, by, ongaffeord.
U N
to Undo,bw.vernielen, vernietigen-
Undone , van to Undo, on gela k \ig.
Undoubtedly, by. on twijfelbaar,
zonder twijfel. -
to Undrèss, b. w. on tºleedem,
uitklee den. -
Unéasy , by. onger ust , be kom-
merd; – about a thing, — we . .
gen f fety.
Unemployed , b v. Jedig , we r kes
loof, m i e º be zig.
Uuéqual, b v. ongelijk.
Unéven, by, one yen, on effºn, one
gelijk , hob belig. -
Unexpected, by. on yerwacht.
Unexpectedly, by. on vs rwacht,
Unexperienced, by. zonder on der-
vinding., ofterwaren.
Uafáithful, by, on get rouw, trow-
we loos , werra derlijk.
Unfeelings by, geyoel/00s, ongs-
vo elig.
Unfinished, by. ong ee indig d, on-
vol fooid.
Unfit, by. ongeſchikt ; unfit for
use, n is t te gebraiken.
Unforesečn, by. on voorzien. -
Unfortunate, by. ongelukkig.
Unfortunately, by. ong elukkig iſ k.
. Unfrièndly, by. on yrien delijk , on.
bar inhart ig. -
Unfrtiitful, b v. on yruch tº aar.
to Unfurl, b, w, on two uwen, on t-
rollem s to unfurl a sail, een
zei 1 on trollan. -
Ungráteful, by on dam khaar.
Ungratefully, by. op eane on danks-
bare wifzé.
Unhappily, by. angelukkiglijk 9
b if ongeluk.
Unhappin ess, z. ongeluk, elſende.
Unhappy, by. ong elukkig.
Unhèard , by. onge hoord ; thy song
is nor unheard, gij blijf nies
ongehoord., -
{Jae
U N
Unhürt, by, on beſchadiga, onbazeerd
Uniforn, b v. eemy or mig , regel-
m a rig. -
Uninhabited, by. on be woomd.
Uninterrupted, by. on afge broken.
to Unite, b. w. ve reen igen, ver-
bindex ; united by the ties of
nature, door de banden der na-
tut, r ye reen ig d.
Unity, z. de een he id; 2) est, drag ty
to live in perfect unity, in val-
komen eensgezin dheid leyazı.
Universal, by aige meen.
Universe, z. het heel a 1.
Unknown , b v. on be kend, vree mal.
Unlawful , by. on wet fig , on yet-
telijk.
Unless, woegw. ten zij , ten wa-
re; unless he mended, ten wa-
re h iſ zich be ferdà.
Unlikes bv. ong elijk , 2) onwaar-
ſchiſm ſijk,
Unluckily, by bij ongs] uk, on.
galuk Kiglijk.
Unlücky, by. ongs lukkig.
Unmanned , b v. on be mand.; an un-
manned ship, een on be man dyſchip.
Unnècessary, by. on no odig.
Unnóticed , b v. or be merkt.
Unobserved , by. on be ºn erk f.
to Unpack, b. w. uitpakken, on:-
pakken.
Unparalleled , by.
*i; } , we erg sloos.
Uppolluted, by, or bevſekt, rein,
zu i ver. -
$nprovided , by. on verzorg d.
*Unréasonable, by. on redelijk , on-
* Grſian dig.
Jnreasonably, biv. onverſtandig.
Jijk; to act unreasonably, zon"
der, verſ and te werk gaan.
Dusáfe, by, opveilig, onzeker,
ge vaarlijk.
ºnshättered, by, on#eſºha&#gå.
envergelijke-
P. p. 4
U P
Unstèady , b v. on beffen dig , wan-
kelend, zwak ; unsteady on his
legs, on vast op zijne beenon,
wanke lem de. - -
Unsuccèssful , bv. v rush tele of ,
yero ngal tik: , in islak t. -
Untáught, by, ongéoefend, onge-
ſchik; , ong eleerd.
Ultil, b wº ros-, tat a gº.-
Unt & , zie To. -
Uotried, by on be prosföl.
Unvaluable, by. on ſkhathaar.
Uuwarrantable , by. on veran twoor-
delijk, 2) ongewaarborg d.
Unwhºlesome , by. ongezond, mas
dec fig.
Um willing , by. 6 ºwiłłig ; he was
unwilling to do that, hiſ was
daar regen, hiſ wilde dat n is st
doen, h if had daar geen zin.
in , hiſ deed &af n is f gaar-
r; 4, em 2.
Unwörthy, by. onwaardig, miers
waa raig , laag, verachta i ijk.
Up, by. op 5 Robinson grew up ,
R. gro e ide op 3 they corne nea-
rer up with her, zij made fen
hef ſchip; up to the sky, for
aan &e wolken s 2) up , wa, op.
to Upbrăid, b. we beſch tºld igen-,
verwij ten , be k if y&n. -
Upholsterer, z. een uit drager,
be harger. §
to Uplift, b. w. ºpheffen ; with
uplifted hands, ºne f opge he ves
hands”.
Upon, v2. op , on ; upon some
business, an 86 nige bezigheid,
zaak ; upon which , waarop;
the one lives upon the other, de
cene left van den anderen.
Upper, by. the upper part, her
bovenſ's gedael te: ; the upper
shell, de-B sites ſchekº.
†Jps
463,
-Unspeakably, b wa on air ſprekelijk.
464 US
tºppermost, by het hoog?a.
tjproar, z. het oproer, de op-
ſtand, her geraas; nature seem-
ed to be in an uproar, de ge.
heele mat uur ſchijnt in opſtand
t a zijm. ^,
{Jpwards , upward, be... bove n >
meer, yerdcºr.
to Urge, b, w. aanſporen , aan-
drify en ; urged by hunger, door
den honger ged rotagen.-
Us, (perſoon1. voorn.) ons; 3 en 4
naatav., van we , wif.
Üse, z. het ge bruik, he nºt ;
to be of use, n attig zijn.
to Use , b, w. gel ruite ºf , 2) ge
wennem 2 3) o. we gewoo tº zijn,
+
V A
U T
f plegem, 4), a toeferre m, maker, 3:
he used gestures, hij maakta,
gº bare a . - , ,
Used, by, grewoom (van use), ; not:
used to all this, aan dir alles,
frief gewoon,
Useful, by. brai khaar, n at rig.
Usefulness , z. m at , n at tigheid.
Useless, by nut reloor. .
Usual , by. ge bruikelijk, gewooss
Usually, bºw, getvo onlijk.
Utènsil, z, go feedſchap, werk tuig.
Utmºst , by. aircr; t , the utmost
verge , de u iterſfe rand, 2).
hoogs: , in den hoggſfen graad.
to Utter, b. w. użen ; to utter a
word, ean woord air ſpreken.
V E
Váin, by; if de!, on he dui dend,
vergeefs ch s 2), tw. in vain ,
vergeef. -
Valet, z. be diem de-, knecht.
Wałet; de' chambre ... z. kamer-
dismaar.
Valiant, by, dapper , mwedig.
Valley, z. eam dal.
Valour, z, dapperheid.
Valuable, by...ſchatba ar » ach fing-
was ºr dig.
Walue , z. de waarde, da prijf.
to Value, b. w. Waarderem ,
fºhat ten, 2) op prijs fellen ,
* hoog achten. -
Vanilla, z. de vani lje.
to Wanish , o, w, verdwijn sº, on-
zigtbaar worden.
Vanity, z, de jáelheid.
to Vanquish , b, we overwiamen ,
be dwingen. -
Whpour, z, damp , waſ sus,
Váriable, by. v. randerlijk, on-
befºe maig . - ------
Variety, z, verſºhcidenheid.
Várious, by, on de’rſcheid gn; way
rious colours , verſchiſlands
kle are it. -
Vassal, z. ean vasſaal , y &za!,
Jiffe fgene , diens ºpjig tige. ,
die mºst man lean man.
Väst, by. groot, twijdº, a irge-
fºrekt: a vast quantity, een a
g roofe in enig tº. `;,
Vault z. een gews f.
Věhemence , z, dc, he vigheid, one-
ſt timighaid, madruk.
‘Véhicle, z. ean rift wig.
Véin , z. de a der, bloeda der.
Velocity, Z. de ſnelheid.
Vènerable , by, es rwaardig. . .
Vênt, z. de opening , , witgangº.
lieht- of luchtgar,
to vent , bºw, sitſatans, to vent.
sighs 3
V I
sighs , za:hten lozen , fe-
jº & fie -
to Vênture, b. w. wagen, moed
he bbén 5 2) to venture from one’s
habitation, to venture out, het
wagen zijne woning ta verja-
ten , uit tº gaan.
Vērdure, z. hat groan, he len-
£égrgen.
Vērge , z, de rand , de grent-
ſcheiding ; the utmost verge,
her uirerſfe einde.
Vērse, z. een vers. -
Wéry, by: em bv. wagr, we rites
lijk, hetzelfie ; at that very
time, juift op diem tijd; for
that very reason, juist. om die
reden ; with the very first ship ,
met hºt alle rearſfe ſchip; the
yery, same, juist de (het) zelf.
de ; very right, ze ºr juist,
very true , zee z
fine, zeer fraai.
Vēssel, z, een vat, Yaat werk ;
a milk vessel, een melkpot, 2)
gen ſchip, yaart tº ig ; by the
waar 5 very,
very first vessel, mier her aller-
eerſ?2 ſchip., *
Vize, z de on de ug d', 2) e Ike
z is ſlag of four die tot gay 0 on-
te on taard if.
Vicious, by, ende agend.
Vicassirude , z lot wiſeling, wis-
fely allig he id.
Victim, z, ſlag toffer,
Victor, z. de over winnaar.
Victorious , b v. oys r winné ná.
Victory, z, de overwinning.
Victuals, z. m. leven sm fide len.
to Vie , o, w. we dijveran.
to View, b. w; bezien, bazigti-
gén, beſthou wen.
View , z. het uit zigt 2.2) da aan-
blik 5 to take a view of a thing,
ieſs bezigtigen, 3) het gezigº,
P P 5
V O 465
he f ziem : a new obstacle start-
ed in view, een nieuwe hin-
derpaal liet zich zien, deed
zizh op. -
Vigorously, by. Krachtdadiglijk •
Village, z, gem dorp.
Villain , . z. e8m boos wich f.
Vine, z. §e wifnſtok.
Vineyard,. Z. de wif ngaard; win-
Virtue,
berg.
Violence, z, he t geweld.
Violent, by. he vig, gewel dig.
Violently, bow. he vig, gewel dig.
2. da desgd, a X goode-
eigenſchap , kracht , her war-
an og erº.
Virtuous, by deugdzaam.
Visibly , by. zig thaarlijk, open-
baar , oogenſchijnlijk.
Visit , z. het be zeek 3 to pay a
visit, een bezoek affeggen.
Vitreous , by van glas a var- .
glaasd., glas.ack fig.
V\ttuals, zie Victuals.
Vºgue , z. zwang , gebraik ; to.
be in vogue, in zwang zijn ,.
gewoon zijn. .
Voice, z, do ſtem, de toon der
fºem. -
Volcáno, z. de vuurberg, vaar-
fouwende berg, volkaan.
Völley z, eene lading , volle laag,
Woluntary., by. yrijwillig Jonges
dwongen. **
Völume, z... het boek , 2} het
deel, (van een werk of boek).
to Vomit, o. w braken, ſpu-
ºven, 2). b. w. Mi ſpunven-s to
vomit stones, fesmen ui tºwerpens
Wöniting, z.. het & raken, air-
werpen.
to Wow, b. w. belooyen, pleg ti --
ge gel of 6 doen.
Voyage , z, de zeere is ; the history
of voyages, de reisbeſchrijvings
W.
W A
AANM. Na de w wordt de a meestal breed uitgeſproken, iets tas-
ſchen o en a; - de w zelve wordt met eene expiratie uit-
-”
vo Wáde, o.
waden. -
to Wàg, b. w. bewegen, he wag-
ged his tail, hij kwispelde met
den ſtaart. - *
Wager , z. de weddingſchap s for
a wager, om eens weddingſchap.
to Wáil, o. w. klagen, treuren.
Wäist, z het onderlijf.
to Wáit, b. w. wachten, supper
waits ! aan tafel ! 2 ) o. w.
wachten, met for, op
wachten, - -
Eo Wäke , o.. w. waken, wakker
worden ; 2) b. w. wekken, wak-
ker maken. -
to Walk, o.. w. gaan, wandelen.
Wàlk, z da wandeling, 2) wan-
de lplaats.
Wàll z. de muur, wal, wand.
to Wànder, (de a luidt , in dit
en verſcheidene volgende woor
den, even als in het hollandsch),
e. w. wandelen, zwerven, his
eyes were wandering, zijne oo
gen weidden rond
to Want , b. w. be hoeven , noo-
dig hebben , 2 ) gebrek aan iets
hebben ; what do you want ? wat
ontbreekt u ? 3) o.. w. verlan-
gen , wen ſchen , willen ; I
wanted to have one, ik wilde
er een hebben.
w. waden, door-
Want, z. de behoefte ; we have
iets
geſproken, bijna als oew.
many wants, wij heb hen 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
wil de volken. -
Warlike, bv. oorlogzuchtig
Warm, bv. warm, 2) hartelijk ,
in nig.
to Warm , b. w. war bren-
to Warn, b. w. waarſchuwen,
37 e r net a ye 6 rºt , -----
to Warp, b. w. bij wevers, de
ketting maken , van daar 5
warping bar, we vers boom , ge-
woonlijk warpingloom
Wàrrier, warrior, z., een krijgs-
1/4 (2 F1,
Was, o. t. van to Be, was, werd.
to Whsh , b, w. was ſchen , 2) to
be washed over board, over
boord geſpoeld worden -
Wàsp, z. de wesp.
Wast z. enkelvoud van de o. tv-
. va n to Be, waar t , (gij waart).
to Watch, b. w. bewaken ; 2) o.
w waken. -
Wàtchman, z. de wacht waker, 2):
wacht , ſchildwacht.
Watchroom, z. de waakkamer »
2) de wachtkamer.
Water, z.. het water.
to Water, b. w. begieten, he-
ſproeifen ; to water the plants,
dd plan ten begi et on; 2) o, w. his
mouth watered, hij watertanddee.
W8e-
watering pot, z. de gietemmer.
Waterspout, z, een wolkbreak,
waterhoos.
Wáve , z de golf, baar.
Wäy, z. de weg; this way, hier
heen, by the way, onder weg,
2) het middel ; by this way,
door dit middel, hier door, 3)
de handelwijze ; you shall have
your own way, gij zal t de han-
den vrij hebben , gij kunt doen
zoo als gij wilt , 4) de wijze •
manier ; our way of living, on -
ze leefwijze : in the wrong
way, op een e verkee' de nv ijze ;
our way of killing animals, on
ze manier van dieren te ſlag-
ten ; 5) met zon en ſtelling, to
give way, wijken ; this or that
way, zoo of anders, to be in
one's way, iemand ºm de n weg
(hinderlijk ) zijn ; to make one's
way, zijn for t tt in ma Re zº , we !
door de wereld komen.
Wé, (perſoonl. voorn. ) wij,
Wéak, bv. zwak, krachteloos.
Wéakness, z. zwakheid.
to Wean , b. w. on t wennen ,
ſpeen en.
Wèapon , z.. het wapen , geweer.
to Wèar, b. w. dragen, bij zich
dragen ; 2) o.. w. afnemen , af.
dragen, afſlijten, gewoonlijk
met out , he was so worn out,
hij was zo o afgemat , zoo
kr achteloos, his clothes were
worn out, zijne kle ederen wa-
ren afgeſleten,
Wéaried, bv. en oede, afgemat ,
vermoeid. -&
Wéariness, z. vermoeidheid.
Wéary, b. v. en o... w. vermoeid,
vermoeijen ; to wéary one's
eyes, zijne oog en verznoeijen,
Wèather, z. het weder.
-
|
W H
to Wéave , b. w. wéven.
Wéaver, z. de we ver. •
Web , z. ket weefſel, de gewee
ven ſtof. 4
Wèdge, z, een breekijzer.
Wéed, ze het onkruid.
to Wéed, b. w onkruid uittrek-
ken , wieden
Wéek, z. de week, in three weeks
time, in den tijd van drie we-
ken, binnen drie weken.
to Wéep, b. w. weenen, ſchreijen-
to Wèigh, b. w. wegen , 2) op-
-heffen; to weigh anchor , het
asker ligt en ; 3) o.. w. wegen-
Wèight , z. zwaar te , gewig t; of
mear one hundred weight , was
bijna honderd ponden zwaar.
Wèlfare, z. de welvaart, heb
welzijn , het geluk.
Wèll, z. de bron, wel.
Well, bw. wel , goed , 3) als
tusſchenw. , wel nu , goed.
Went, o. t. van to Go.
Wept, o. t. van to Weep.
Were, o. t. van to Be,
were, als het ware.
Wèst, bv. westelijk, ten westen
gelegen.
Wèstward, bw. ten westen.
Wét, bv. nat, vochtig.
Whâle bone, z. bale in ,
v is chbaard.
Whàt, (voorn.) he : welk , dat is
2 ) tusſchen w. hoe ! wat !
Whatever, (voorn. ) wat ooke
Whéat, z. tarwe.
Whéel, z. een wiel of rad.
Wheelbarrow, z. kruiwagen.
Whéelwright, z. wagenmaker,
raden en aker.
Whèn, bw. wanneer, als, indien-
Whènce , bv. van waar.
Whènever, b w. wanneer ook, zoo
dikwijls als.
-- Whére
g67
as ie
val-
&
-- ‘Whére , ºbw *
. . to. Whét, by. watten.
* . . .ºrrº
war, isar, 25.
•.
waar 2 a * .
*Nºéréâbout, by, waaromtrent.
f Whereas º bw. waarentegem, ºdaar
integendeel, terwijl integen-
deel, term, if 1. ,
Whereof, by. waarvan.
Whereupon, by, w a rop.
Whèther, b. w. of:
Whètstone, z, de ſlip ſteem.
*Which , (voorn.) welk, we lºe,
* we?Ken , he twełż, * * * :
*While, z. de tijd , wif l ; a while,
een tijd!eng ; all this while,
de zen gamſchen tijd ; mean-
while in sº ſchem 3 to think it
sorth the while, het der ºn bei-
se Awaardig ach fen ; not yet a
while, op verre ma niet, meg
lang miet. . . .
*While, by. gedurende, terwijl.
Whilst, by. gedurende, tarwijſ.
Whim, z. de inval, luim, gril.
to Whine, o w. hailan, ºveen en.
'to Whirl, b, w. ſnel omdraaijen;
2) o. we dwarre Jen ; a whirling
º storm , een orkaan; a whirl-
wind, een dwarre/wind.
to Whisper; ox-w.fluisteren......
White, by, wit. *
Whitish bv. wit achtig. -
Whö, (uitgeſpr. alsºhde), voorn.
... wºis , walke. :
Whóever, veorn, wie
der die.
ook , i.e-
- K-, -º- ºr wrºsº--frºzier-5 - ---
& ---º-c-ºs-ºs-ºs-~s) **Yºr, ºr--><A-7c=2<3:- Tººrºº’."
w - - - ... • - - * * * * ~ * - ... ſº wº !
*ºr ---, -, -, y-, *s-, 2-
..- … . - .
- - * - r . . “ - ;
- w -
v. ... * - - -
eiº,
. . . .
**_ 3; \ W r
. . . . .
Wickedness: 2. onzedekijkh
godde loosheid. . . . . . . . . "
Wide, by, wiſd, breed, witge -
fºre kt. . . . . . . . . .. -
to Widen, b, w, verwijden, were
breeden, verg rooten. -
Widow, *, we duwe.
Wife, z. get rouwde wrote:w.
Wild, ºbv. wild , ºvo'est :
Will, z, de wil; he had his own
will, hiſ had zijn eigen wil.
to Will, b, w. ºviflem , 2) als
hulpwerkwoord worm t . het den
toekomenden tijd, en be fee-
kend...alsdam zullen,
Willing, by genegen , willig
ºw i !?e mºs. **.
Willingly. ,
nvil Rig.
Willow, z, wilgen boo
low- tree. . . .
Wind, z. de wind. W
to Wind, b. w. draaijen, wins
den, om winden ; 3) or w. 2; ch
draaijen , wenden ; winding
down this way, dezen wag heem
draaijends. -
Windmill, z, windmolez.
Window, z, het venſfer. -
Wine, z.de wif n : a wine press,
gene ſwijn pers. . . . . .
Wing, z, de vleugeſ. “ . . . -
Wink, z. de dogwenk; he could
not get a wink of sleep, hij
kon geen oog toe dog n : 00k no
wink of sleep befriended his eyes.
* ~ *
bw-gaarne, , wrij-
m ; a wil-
|
*
J. : {
Whôle, z. het geheel, clies.”
W. Edlesome,
bv. gezond, hei!
zaam, *) muttig , v0.9 raeelig.
Whºlly, by geheel em al.
Whóm, accuſativ. van Who. Sº
Whèse, genitiv. van Who.
“Why, by: hoe, waarom P 2) ei,'
*el ºn te. .
*Wicked, by, onde agend, goddeloos
to Wipe, b, w, afwisſchen, aft.
to Wink, 'o. W. Wenken , toe-
wenken.- t
Winter, z. de winter; winter was
at hands, de winter was op han-
den. '. -
* -
droogen.
Wire, z. iſ zer of kofferdraad.
"Wisdom, z, de wifsheid. . .


W O
Wise, by wiys. . .
Wisely, by, wifsſºlijk.
Wish, z, de wensch.
to Wish , o, en b. 'w, wen/them.
Wished for, geºvenscht ; the long
wished for daylight, het lang.
génven schte daglicht.
Wit, , z, de gees?, her vern ºf ,
het verſtand; to be out of one’s
wits, buiten zinnen zijn.
Witch, z. to overes, haks.
Włtchcraft, z, to overij, he kſarij.
With , v2. met , 2) bij; with him,
with us, hiſ hem, ons; 3) he
did not know what to do with
hitnself for fear, hiſ wist van
w fees nia t , waar hiſ hlify ºn
zo tide.
to Withdráw , b, w, rerug trek-
#&n 5 to withdraw one’s hand,
zijñe hand afºrekken 2) o. we
terug gaan , weg gaaw.
*Withe, z. htt wilgen takje.
te Wither, c. we verdorrez, ; a
withered tree ten verdorde
beom. . +
to Withhöld, b, w, terug hoaden. .
Within, vz. en by, binnen, in ;
within himself, hiſ zich zelven,
Without , v2.20mdar, 2) baiten;
3) by buites : from without
pan-bit; fems
to Withständ, -b, w, wederſtaan ;
- the temptation, de verzoe-
king waderſfaan.
Withstanding, z, da tegenſtand.
"Witness, z, de get aige, 2) het
get trigemiš. * - • ‘
Wives, mw. van Wife, getroany-
de vrouwen.
Wizard, z. een tooy
- ſºn meester. -
Woe (tusſchenw.) wee
Woeful, by, treurig, Grosvig.
Wöf, z. is wolf. -
r
3.
eggar, hek-
Q a
Woëd, z, he # wou.3, her .
W O
: f- -
Wörman , z. da y roi wº
Womanish, by. verwijfl."
469
Women, (ſºr. Wimmen), inv.
van Woman, wraa wen; an old
women, story , een oudewijven,
A raatje, • . .
to Wönder, (an et at), o. we were
wor:daren over tets. --~~
Wonder, z. het Avonder, hotgène
qvaaroyer me a zich verºva; *
der t, 2) de verwondering, 3)
wonderwerk, mirakel; what in
the pane of wonder, waſ on *s
he meſs wil. -
Wönderful, by, wonderbaar, won-
derlijk, be wºndereºsºv aardig.
Wonderfully, bv. wonderb gar-
lijk, verawonderlijk. # *
Wöndrous, bu, varwonderlijk.
Won’t, verkort van will not.
- bosch a
2) hat he u :..
Wooden, by hoaten, van hoat.
Woodlouse, z, how tuis, wand.
<!t!; f.
Woodworm , z. hoºt? worth.
Woºdy, by. Boschachtig. - .
Woëf, z. het weaf/a/ , bij we,
vers da in ſlag.
Woël, z, de wol.
Woëlly, bv. voll ig ; woolly hair,
wollig haar, krees haar.
Wörd, z, het woord ; in a word,
hief eem woord, 2) de marig #;
to bring , to send word to one,
fe:#&nd marigt geven , hers
doen wet en , hē m ºne hacº.
Wóre, o. t. van to Wéar.
to Wörk , o, em b. w, ºverkeh,
arbeidem sº his brains worked,
hij Brak zich her hoofs; to
work out a hollow place, sit-
graven , uirwerken; to work
on, yoor twºrkens - -
work . -
4zo W R.
Work, z. het werk, de arbeid.
World, z. de wereld.
Wörm, z. de worm.
Wörn, dw. van to Wéar.
Worse , bv. vergelijkends trap
van bad, erger, ſlechter.
Worship, z. hulde, eerbewij-
zing; to pay divine worship,
godsdienſtige eer betoon en.
Worst, bv. overtreffende trap
van bad, ſlechtſte, ergſte.
'Wörth, bv. waardig, waard, to
think it worth one's while , he
de moeite waardig keuren.
VVörthy, bv. waardig.
Would, o. t. van to Will, wil-
de ; als hulpwerkw. vormt het
den voorwaardelijk en tijd, en
beteekent zo u d e; what he would ,
be good for, waarvoor hij goed
zo u de wezen , 2) gewoon zijn,
plegen ; the father would tell
them stories, de vader pleegde
hen vertelſeltjes te verhalen.
Wound, (ſar. woend), z, eene
wor: ds.
to Wound ,
Avondon. »
Wound, (ſpr. wound), dw. van
to Wind,
Wràck, wrèck, z. wrak , over-
blijfſel van een ſchip ; ship -
wreck, ſchipbreuk.
to Wrap, b.. w. za in en rollen, op-
rollen, wikkelen, (geen een lijk
b. VV's ky, etſen ?
Y A
Yácht, (ſpr. jatt), z. een jacht,
hoeijer, klein vaartuig.
Yard, z. een hof, binnenhof, 2)
een e maat van drie voet sn,
e 6 x e e?.
W R.
met up), wrapt up in a cloak,
in een en mantel gewikkeld, ge-
huld.
Wièck, z. wrak. w-
to Wrèst, b. w, meet geweld ont
men; en , wringen ; he wrested
the sword out of his hand, hij
on fºr r omg hen den degen.
Wrètch, z. een ongelukkige, el-
We nºdige , 2 ) e en de ug niet, la-
ge zie .
Wrètched, bv. el is zº dig , ange-
lukkig ; ycur wretched zon, uw
ongelukkige zoon ; wretched
too's , alle nºdig gereedſchap.
to Wring, b. w. worſtelen ; wrin-
gen ;, to wring one's hands, de
handen wringen, 2) ontwring en
to Write, b, w. ſchrijven ; the
father wrote it down, de vader
ſchreef het op.
Writing , z. hst ſchrift ; the
writings, de papieren, ſchrift sn.
VVritten , dw. 5 a n to Write.
WrSng, bv. verkeerd : in the
wrong way, verkeerdelijk.
Wrong, z. het onregt, het on-
geluk , 2) de dwaling,
to Wrong, b. w. krenken, b4-
de edigen , verongelijken.
Wróte , o. t. van to Write.
Wrought, o: t. van to Work.
WI iing , o. t. van to Wriag-
Wry, bv. averegts, ſcheef, a
wry face, een ſcheef gezigt.
V E
Yarn z. hét garen.
to Yáwn , o, w. gee te ºvert-
Ye, in plaats van you , gij •
Year, z, het jaar.
to
to Y-11 , . o. whitism , laid
ſchree uwen. $
Yèllow , by, ges!.
Yes, by, fa. S
Yesterday, z. de dag van g is re-
ren, g is tº ren.
Yesterni, h; , z. g is tereº avond.
Yet, voegw. ech fer, to ch , even-
ºr el ; 2) by, no g : not yet, nog
nie : ; as yet, vo e r he s fes en-
ºw oordige.
to Yūke , b, w. can he t frº: ſpan-
men ; a am ſpannen.
Z E
Y G) 471
Yoke, z. het juk.
Yon , yoader, b wa gift dr.
Yoº voorn. gif, e.
44-
Zéal, z. de if p < r , ha ts to g : e i ij-
ks neiging tº iet f ; with fer.
Young , by. jong; a young atan,
e = f; 3 ongeling.
‘Younger, by. 3 onger ; Rohit son
the younger, Robinſon de fonge.
Yöar, (voorn, yan bezitting),
a y , ulic de r.
Yourself, voorn, g ºf zelf, z zeł.
ver, , t , he: mºv. is yourselves.
Youth, z. de fewgā, 2) een fon=
geling-
vent zeal, me: brandenden if wer,
Zëslous, by, if way ig.
Q&@-3&Q-Gº-Gº-3-3-3-3-3-3-3-2-Q.
§§