Saturday, March 4, 2017


Daniel Defoe (1660-1731)  
SEPTEMBER 30, 1659. - I, poor miserable Robinson
Crusoe, being shipwrecked during a dreadful storm in the
offing, came on shore on this dismal, unfortunate island,
which I called ‘The Island of Despair"; all the rest of the
ship’s company being drowned, and myself almost dead.
All the rest of the day I spent in afflicting myself at the
dismal circumstances I was brought to - viz. I had neither
food, house, clothes, weapon, nor place to fly to; and in
despair of any relief, saw nothing but death before me -
either that I should be devoured by wild beasts, murdered
by savages, or starved to death for want of food. At the
approach of night I slept in a tree, for fear of wild
creatures; but slept soundly, though it rained all night.
OCTOBER 1. - In the morning I saw, to my great
surprise, the ship had floated with the high tide, and was
driven on shore again much nearer the island; which, as it
was some comfort, on one hand - for, seeing her set
upright, and not broken to pieces, I hoped, if the wind
abated, I might get on board, and get some food and
necessaries out of her for my relief - so, on the other hand,
it renewed my grief at the loss of my comrades, who, I
imagined, if we had all stayed on board, might have saved
the ship, or, at least, that they would not have been all
drowned as they were; and that, had the men been saved,
we might perhaps have built us a boat out of the ruins of
the ship to have carried us to some other part of the
world. I spent great part of this day in perplexing myself
on these things; but at length, seeing the ship almost dry, I
went upon the sand as near as I could, and then swam on
board. This day also it continued raining, though with no
wind at all.Read More

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