Chapter XIII: Part 13

But I had not done with the monster; for the caravan being to rest three nights in the town, I told the Scots merchant what I had seen, and that I was resolved to take four or five men well armed with me, in order to destroy the idol, and show the people how little reason they had to trust in a god who could not save himself. At first he laughed at me, representing the danger of it, and when it was destroyed, what time had we to preach to them better things, whole zeal and ignorance was in the highest degree, and both unparalleled? that if I should be taken by them, I should be served as a poor ruffian, who contemned their worship; that is, to be stripped naked, and tied to the top of the idol, there shot at with arrows till my body was fall of them, and then burnt as a sacrifice to the monster; _but Sir_, said he, _since your zeal carries you so far, rather than you should be alone I will accompany you, and bring a stout fellow equal to yourself, if you will, to assist you in this design:_ and accordingly he brought one Captain Richardson, who, hearing the story, readily consented; but my partner declined it, being altogether out of his way: and so we three, and my servant, resolved to execute this exploit about midnight; but upon second thoughts we deferred it to the next night, by reason that the caravan being to go from hence the next morning, we should be out of the governor's power. The better to effectuate my design, I procured a Tartar's sheep-skin robe, a bonnet, with bow and arrows, and every one of us got the like habits, the first night we spent in mixing combustible matter with aqua vitae, gunpowder, &c. having a good quantity of tar in a little pot: next night we came up to the idol about eleven o'clock, the moon being up. We found none guarding it; but we perceived a light in the house, where we had seen the priests before. One of our men was for firing the hut, another for killing the people, and a third for making them prisoners, while the idol was destroyed. We agreed to the latter; so knocking at the door, we seized the first that opened it, and stopping his mouth and tying his feet, we left him. We served the other two in the like manner; and then the Scots merchant set fire to the composition, which frightened them so much, that we brought them all away prisoners to their wooden god. There we fell to work with him, daubing him all over with tar mixed with tallow and brimstone stopping his eyes, ears, and mouth full of gunpowder, with a great piece of wild-fire in his bonnet, and environed it with dry forage. All this being done, we unloosed and ungagged the prisoners, and set the idol on fire, which the gunpowder blowing up, the shape of it was deformed, rent and split, which the forage utterly consumed; for we staid to see its destruction, lest the ignorant idolatrous people should have thrown themselves into the flames, And thus we came away undiscovered, in the morning appearing as busy among our fellow travellers, as no body could have suspected any other, but that we had been in our beds all night.

Next morning we let out, and had gone but a small distance from the city, when there came a multitude of people of the country to the gates of the city, demanding satisfaction of the Ruffian governor for insulting their priests, and burning their great Cham Cai-Thaungu, who dwelt in the sun, and no mortal would violate this image but some Christian miscreants; and being already no less than thirty thousand strong, they announced war against him and all his Christians.

The governor assured them he was ignorant of the matter, and that none of his garrison had been abroad; that indeed there was a caravan that went away that morning, and that he would send after them to inquire into it; and whoever was the offender, should be delivered into their hands. This satisfied them for the present, but the governor sent to inform us, that if any of us had done it, we should make all the haste away possible, while he kept them in play as long as he could. Upon this we marched two days and two nights, stopping but very little, till at last we arrived at a village called Plothus, and hasted to Jerawena, another of the Czar's colonies. On the third day, having entered the desert, and passed the lake called Shaks Oser, we beheld a numerous body of horde on the other side or it to the north, who supposed we had passed on that side of the lake; but either having found the mistake, or being certainly informed of the way we took, they came upon us towards the dusk of the evening, just as we had pitched our camp between two little but very thick woods, with a little river running before our front and some felled trees with which we covered our rear; a precaution we always took, and which we had just finished when the enemy came up. They did not fall on us immediately, but sent three messengers, demanding the men who had insulted their priests, & burnt their god, Cham Chi-Thaungu, that they might be burnt with fire; that if this was complied with, they would peaceably depart; but if not, they would destroy one and all of us. Our men stared at one another on receipt of this message, but Nobody was the word, as indeed nobody knew it, but he who did it. Upon which the leader of the caravan returned for answer, _That they were peaceable merchants, who meddled with none of their priests and gods and therefore desired, them not to disturb us, and put us to the necessity of defending ourselves_. But do far was this from satisfying them, that the next morning coming to our right, they let fly a volley of arrows among us, which happily did not hurt any, because we sheltered ourselves behind our baggage. We expected however to come to a closer engagement; but were happily saved by a cunning fellow, a Cossack, who obtaining leave of the leader to go out, mounts his horse, rides directly from our rear, and taking a circuit, comes up to the Tartars, as tho he had been sent express, and tells them a formal story, that the wretches who had burnt the Cham Chi-Thaungu, were gone to Shiheilka, with a resolution to burn the god Shal-Ifar, belonging to the Tongueses. Upon which, believing this cunning Tartar, who was servant to our Muscovites, away they drove to Shiheilka, and in less than three minutes were out of sight, nor did we ever hear of them more.

When we came to the city of Jarawena, we rested five days, and then entered into a frightful desert, which held us twenty-three days march, infested with several small companies of robbers, or Mogul Tartars, who never had the courage to attack us. After we had passed over this desert, we found several garisons to defend the caravans from the violence of the Tartars. In particular the Governor of Adinskoy offered us a guard of fifty men to the next station, if we apprehended any danger. The people here retained the same paganism and barbarity, only they were not so dangerous, being conquered by the Muscovites. The clothing, both of men & women, is of the skins of beasts, living under the ground in vaults & caves, which have a communication with one another. They have idols almost in every family; besides, they adore the sun and stars, water and snow; and the least uncommon thing that happens in the elements, alarms them as much as thunder and lightning does the unbelieving Jews.

Nothing remarkable occurred in our march through this country. When we had gone through the desert, after two days farther travel; we came to Jenezoy, a Muscovite city, on the great river so called, which we were told, parted Europe from Asia. The inhabitants here were very little better, though intermixed with the Muscovites, but the wonder will cease, when I inform my readers of what was observed to me, that the Czar rather converts the Tartars with soldiers than clergymen, and is more proud to make them faithful subjects, than good Christians.

From this city to the river Oby, we travelled over a pleasant, fruitful, but very uncultivated country, for want of good management and people, and those few are mostly Pagans. This is the place where the Muscovite criminals are banished to, if they are not put to death. The next city we came to, was the capital city of Siberia, called Tobolski when having been almost seven months on our journey, and winter drawing on apace, my partner and I consulted about our particular affairs in what manner we should dispose of ourselves. We had been told of sledges and rein-deer to carry us over the snow in the winter season, the snow being frozen so hard, that the sledges can run upon the surface without any danger of going down. As I was bound to England, I now behoved either to go with the caravan to Jerosaw, from thence west to Marva, and the gulph of Finland, and so by land or sea to Denmark; or else I must leave the caravan at a little town on the Dwina, and so to Archangel, where I was certain of shipping either to England, Holland, or Hamburgh. One night I happened to get into the company of an illustrious, but banished Prince, whose company and virtues were such as made me to propose to him a method how he might obtain his liberty. _My dear friend_, said he, _as I am here happily free from my miserable greatness with all its attendants of pride, ambition, avarice, and luxury, if I should escape from this place, those pernicious seeds may again revive, to my lasting disquietude; therefore let me remain in a blessed confinement, for I am but flesh, a mere man, with passions and affections as such; O be not my friend and tempter too!_ Struck dumb with surprise, I stood silent a-while; nor was he less in disorder, by which perceiving he wanted to give vent to his mind, I desired him to consider of it, and so withdrew. But about two hours after he came to my apartment: _Dear friend_, said he, _though I cannot consent to accompany you, I shall have this satisfaction in parting, that you leave me an honest man still: but as a testimony of my affection to you, be pleased to accept this present of sables_.

In return for his compliment, I sent my servant next morning to his Lordship with a small present of tea, two pieces of China damask, and four little wedges of gold; but he only accepted the tea, one piece of damask, and one piece of gold, for the curiosity of the Japan stamp that was upon it. Not long after he sent for me, and told me, _that what he had refused himself, he hoped upon his account, I would grant to another whom he should name:_ In short it was his only son, who was about two hundred miles distant from him, on the other side of the city, whom he said he would send for, if I gave my consent. This I soon complied with; upon which he sent his servants next day for his son, who returned in twenty days time, bringing seven horses loaded with valuable furs. At night the young Lord was conducted incognito into our apartment, where his father presented him to me. We then concerted the best ways for travelling, and after having bought a considerable quantity of sables, black fox-skins, fine ermines, &c. (which I sold at Archangel at a good price) we set out from this city the beginning of June, making a small caravan, being about thirty-two horses and camels, of which I represented the head. My young Lord had with him a very faithful Siberian servant, well acquainted with the roads: We shunned the principal towns and cities, as Tumen, Soli Kamoskoi, and several others, by reason of their strictness in examining travellers, lest any of the banished persons of distinction should escape. Having passed the river Kama, we came to a city on the European side, called Soloy Kamoskoi, where we found the people mostly Pagans as before. We then passed a desert of about two hundred miles over; but in other places it is near seven hundred. In passing this wild place, we were beset by a troop of men on horseback, and about five and forty men armed with bows and arrows. At first they looked earnestly on us, and then placed themselves in our way. We were above sixteen men, and drew up a little line before our camels. My young Lord sent out his Siberian servant, to know who they were; but, when he approached them, he neither knew a word they said; nor would they admit him to come near them at his peril, but prepared to shoot him. At his return, he told us he believed them to be Calmuc Tartars; and that there were more upon the desert. This was but a small comfort to us; yet seeing a little grove, about a quarter of a mile's distance, we moved to it, by the old Portuguese pilot's advice, without meeting with any opposition. Here we found a marshy piece of ground, and a spring of water running into a little brook on one side, which joined another like it a little further off, and these two formed the head of the river called Writska. As soon as we arrived, we went to work, cutting great arms off the trees, and laying them hanging (not quite off from one tree to another). In this situation we waited the motion of the enemy, without perceiving any advancement they made towards us. About two hours before night, being joined by some others, in all about fourscore horse, among whom we fancied were some women, they came upon us with great fury. We fired without ball, calling to them in the Russian tongue, to know their business; but they, either not knowing, or seeming not to understand us, came directly to the wood side, nor considering that we were to be fortified, as that they could not break in. Our old pilot, the Portuguese, proved both our captain and engineer, and desired us not to fire, till they came within pistol shot; and when he gave the word of command, then to take the surest aim: but he did not bid us give fire, till they were within two pikes length of us, and then we filled fourteen of them, wounded several, as also their horses, having every one of us loaded our pieces with two or three bullets at least. So much were they surprised at our undauntedness, that they retired about a hundred roods from us. In the mean while we loaded our pieces again, and sallying out, secured four or five of their horses, whose riders we found were killed, and perceived them to be Tartars. About an hour after, they made another attempt, to see where they might break in; but finding us ready to receive them, they retired.

All that night we wrought hard, in strengthening our situation, and barricading the entrances into the woods; but when day-light came, we had a very unwelcome discovery; for the enemy, being encouraged by their numbers, had set up eleven or twelve tents, in form of a camp, about three quarters of a mile from us. I must confess, I was never more concerned in my life, giving myself and all that I had over for lost. And my partner declared, that as the loss of his goods would be his ruin, before they should be taken from him, he would fight to the last drop of his blood. As we could not pretend to force our way, we had recourse to a stratagem; we kindled a large fire, which burnt all night; and no sooner was it dark, but we pursued our journey towards the pole or north star, and travelling all night; by six o'clock in the morning we came to a Russian village called Kertza, and from thence came to a large town named Ozonzoys, where we heard that several troops of Calmuc Tartars had been abroad upon the desert, but that we were past all danger. In five days after we came to Veuslima, upon the river Witzedga; from thence we came to Lawrenskoy, on the third of July, where, providing ourselves with two luggage boats, and a convenient bark, we embarked the seventh, and arrived at Archangel the eighteenth, after a year, five months, and three days journey, including the eight months and odd days at Tobolski. We came from Archangel the 20th of August in the same year, and arrived at Hamburg the 30th of September. Here my partner and I made a very good sale of our goods, both those of China and Siberia; when dividing our effects, my share came to 3475l. 17s. 3d. after all the losses we had sustained, and charges we had been at. Here the young Lord took his leave of me, in order to go to the court of Vienna, not only to seek protection, but to correspond with his father's friends. After we had staid four months in Hamburgh, I went from thence overland to the Hague, where embarking in the packet, I arrived in London the 10th of January 1705, after ten years and nine months absence from England.

_R O B I N S O N C R U S O E'S_ VISION OF THE ANGELIC WORLD.

* * * * *

CHAP. I. Of SOLITUDE.

However solitude is looked upon as a restraint to the pleasure of the world, in company and conversation, yet it is a happy state of exemption from a sea of trouble, an inundation of vanity and vexation, of confusion and disappointment. While we enjoy ourselves, neither the joy not sorrow of other men affect us: We are then at liberty with the voice of our soul, to speak to God. By this we shun such frequent trivial discourse, as often becomes an obstruction to virtue: and how often do we find that we had reason to with we had not been in company, or said nothing when we were there? for either we offend God by the impiety of our discourse, or lay ourselves open to the violence of designing people by our ungarded expressions; and frequently feel the coldness and treachery of pretended friends, when once involved in trouble and affliction: of such unfaithful intimates (I should say enemies) who rather by false inuendoes would accumulate miseries upon us, than honestly assist us when under the hard hand of adversity. But in a state of solitude, when our tongues cannot be heard, except from the great Majesty of Heaven, how happy are we, in the blessed enjoyment of conversing with our Maker! It is then we make him our friend, which sets us above the envy and contempt of wicked men. When a man converses with himself, he is sure that he does not converse with an enemy. Our retreat should be to good company, and good books. I mean not by solitude, that a man should retire into a cell, a desert, or a monastry: which would be altogether an useless and unprofitable restraint: for as men ate formed for society, and have an absolute necessity and dependance upon one another; so there is a retirement of the soul, with which it converses in heaven, even in the midst of men; and indeed no man is more fit to speak freely, than he who can, without any violence himself, refrain his tongue, or keep silence altogether. As to religion, it is by this the foul gets acquainted with the hidden mysteries of the holy writings; here she finds those floods of tears, in which good men wash themselves day and night, and only makes a visit to God, and his holy angels. In this conversation the truest peace and most solid joy are to be found; it is a continual feast of contentment on earth, and the means of attaining everlasting happiness in heaven.

CHAP. II. Of HONESTY.

Honesty is a virtue beloved by good men, and pretended to by all other persons. In this there are several degrees: to pay every man his own is the common law of honesty: but to do good to all mankind, is the chancery law of honesty: and this chancery court is in every man's breast, where his conscience is a Lord Chancellor. Hence it is, that a miser, though he pays every body their own, cannot be an honest man, when he does not discharge the good offices that are incumbent on a friendly, kind, and generous person: for, faith the prophet Isaiah, chap. XXXII. ver. 7, 8. _The instruments of a churl are evil: he deviseth wicked devices to destroy the poor with lying words, even when the needy speaketh right. But the liberal soul deviseth liberal things, and by liberal things shall he stand_. It is certainly honest to do every thing the law requires; but should we throw every poor debtor into prison till he has paid the utmost farthing, hang every malefactor without mercy, exact the penalty of every bond, and the forfeiture of every indenture, this would be downright cruelty, and not honesty: and it is contrary to that general rule, _To do to another, that which you would have done unto you_. Sometimes necessity makes an honest man a knave: and a rich man a honest man, because he has no occasion to be a knave. The trial of honesty is this: Did you ever want bread, and had your neighbour's loaf in keeping, and would starve rather than eat it? Were you ever arrested, having in your custody another man's cash, and would rather go to gaol, than break it? if so, this indeed may be reckoned honesty. For King Solomon tells us, _That a good name is better than life, and is a precious ointment, and which, when a man has once lost, he has nothing left worth keeping_.

CHAP. III _Of the present state of Religion in the world_.

I doubt, indeed, there is much more devotion than religion in the world, more adoration than supplication, and more hypocrisy than sincerity; and it is very melancholy to consider, what numbers of people there are furnished with the powers of reason and gifts of nature, and yet abandoned to the grossest ignorance and depravity. But it would be uncharitable for us to imagine (as some Papists, abounding with too much ill nature, the only scandal to religion, do) that they will certainly be in a state of damnation after this life; for how can we think it consistent with the mercy and goodness of an infinite Being, to damn those creatures, when he has not furnished them with the light of the gospel? or how can such proud, conceited and cruel bigots, prescribe rules to the justice and mercy of God?

We are told by some people, that the great image which King Nebuchadnezzar set up to be adored by his people held the representation of the sun in it's right hand, as the principal object of adoration. But to wave this discourse of Heathens, how many self-contradicting principles are there held among Christians? and how do we doom one another to the devil, while all profess to worship the same Deity, and to expect the same salvation.

When I was at Portugal, there was held at that time the court of justice of the Inquisition. All the criminals were carried in procession to the great church, where eight of them were habited in gowns and caps of canvass, whereon the torments of hell were displayed, and they were condemned and burnt for crimes against the Catholic faith and blessed Virgin.

I am sorry to make any reflection upon Christians; but indeed, in Italy the Roman religion seems the most cruel and mercenary upon earth; and a very judicious person, who travelled through Italy from Turkey, tells, _That there is only the face and outward pomp of religion there; that the church protects murderers and assassins; and then delivers the civil magistrate over to Satan for doing justice; interdicts whole kingdoms, and shuts up the churches for want of paying a few ecclesiastical dues, and so puts a stop to religion for want of their money; that the court of Inquisition burnt two men for speaking dishonourably of the Blessed Virgin; and the missionaries of China tolerated the worshipping the devil by their new converts: that Italy was the theatre, where religion was the grand opera: and that the Popish clergy were no other than stage players_.

As to religion in Poland, they deny Christ to be the Messiah, or that the Messiah has come in the flesh. And as to their Protestants, they are the followers of Laelius Socinus, who denied our Saviour's divinity; and have no concern about the divine inspiration of the Holy Ghost.

In Muscovy their churches are built of wood, and, indeed, they have but wooden priests, though of the Greek church; they pray as much to St. Nicholas, as the Papists do to the Virgin Mary, for protection in all their difficulties or afflictions.

As to Lutherans, they only differ from the Romans in believing consubstantiation, instead of transubstantiation; but like them, they are much pleased with the external gallantry and pomp, more than the true and real practice of it.

In France I found a world of priests, the streets every where crowded with them, and the churches full of women: but surely never was a nation so full of blind guides, so ignorant of religion, and even as void of morals, as those people who confess their sins to them.

Does it not seem strange, that, while all men own the Divine Being, there should be so many different opinions as to the manner of paying him obedience in the Christian church? I know not what reason to assign for this, except it be their different capacities and faculties.

And, indeed, upon this account, we have perceived, in all Christian countries, what mortal feuds have been about religion; what wars and bloodshed have molested Europe, till the general pacification of the German troubles at the treaty of Westphalia: and since those times, what persecution in the same country among the churches of the Lutherans; and should I take a prospect at home, what unhappy divisions are between Christians in this kingdom, about Episcopacy and Presbytery; the church of England and the Dissenters opposing one another like St. Paul and St. Peter, even to the face; that is, they carry on the dispute to the utmost extremity.

It might be a question, why there are such differences in religious points, and why these breaches should be more hot and irreconcileable? All the answer I can give to this, is, that we inquire more concerning the truth of religion, than any other nation in the world; and the anxious concern we have about it, makes us jealous of every opinion, and tenacious of our own; and this is not because we are more furious and rash than other people; but the truth is, we are more concerned about them, and being sensible that the scripture is the great rule of faith, the standard for life and doctrine, we have recourse to it ourselves, without submitting to any pretended infallible judge upon earth.

There is another question, pertinent to the former, and that is, _What remedy can we apply to this malady_? And to this I must negatively answer, _Not to be less religious, that we may differ the less_. This is striking at the very root of all religious differences; for, certainly, were they to be carried on with a peaceable spirit, willing to be informed, our variety of opinions would not have the name of differences; nor should we separate in communion of charity though we did not agree in several articles of religion.

Nor is there a less useful question to start, namely, _Where will our unhappy religious differences end?_ To which, I hope, I may answer, _In Heaven_; there we shall unchristian and unbrotherly differences will find a period; there we shall embrace many a sinner, that here we think it a dishonour to converse with; & perceive many a heart we have broken here with censures, reproachings, & revilings, made whole again by the balm of the same Redeemer's blood. Here we shall perceive there have been other flocks than those of our fold; that those we have excommunicated have been taken into that superior communion; and, in a word, that those contradicting notions and principles which we thought inconsistent with true religion, we shall then find reconcileable to themselves, to one another, and to the fountain of truth. If any man ask me, Why our differences cannot be ended on earth? I answer, _Were we all thoroughly convinced, that then they would be reconciled, we would put an end to them before; but this is impossible to be done: for as men's certain convictions of truth are not equal to one another, or the weight or significancy of such veracity: so neither can a general effect of this affair be expected on this side of time_.

Before I conclude this chapter, I shall beg leave to discourse a little of the wonderful excellency of negative religion and negative virtue. The latter sets out, like the Pharisee, with, _God, I thank thee;_ it is a piece of religious pageantry, the hypocrite's hope: and, in a word, it is positive vice: for it is either a mask to deceive others, or a mist to deceive ourselves. A man that is clothed with negatives, thus argues: _ I am not such a drunkard as my landlord, such a thief as my tenant, such a rakish fellow, or a highwayman; No! I live a sober, regular, retired life: I am a good man, I go to church; God, I thank thee._ Now, through a mans boasts of his virtue in contradiction to the vices mentioned, yet a person had better have them altogether than the man himself; or he is so full of himself, so persuaded that he is good and religious enough already, that he has no thoughts of any thing, except it be to pull of his hat to God Almighty now and then, and thank him that he has no occasion for him; and has the vanity to think that his neighbours must imagine well of him too.

The negative man, though he is no drunkard is yet intoxicated with the pride of his own worth; a good neighbour and peace-maker in other families, but a tyrant in his own; appears in church for a show, but never falls upon his knees in his closet; does all his alms before men, to be seen of them; eager in the duties of the second table, but regardless of the first; appears religious, to be taken notice of by men, but without intercourse or communication between God and his own soul: Pray, what is this man? or what comfort is there of the life he lives? he is insensible of faith, repentance, and a Christian mortified life: in a word, he is a perfectly a stranger to the essential part of religion.

Let us for a while enter into the private and retired part of his conversation: What notions has he of his mispent hours, and of the progress of time to the great centre and gulph of life, eternity? Does he know how to put a right value on time, or esteem the life-blood of his soul, as it really is, and act in all the moments of it, as one that must account for them? if then you can form an equality between what he can do and what he shall receive; less can be founded upon his negative virtue, or what he has forborne to do: And if neither his negative nor positive piety can be equal to the reward, and to the eternity that reward is to last for, what then is to become of the Pharisee, when he is to be judged by the sincerity of his repentance, and rewarded, according to the infinite grace of God, with a state of blessedness to an endless eternity?

When the negative man converses with the invisible world, he is filled with as much horror and dread as Felix, when St Paul reasoned to him of temperance, righteousness, and of judgment to come; for Felix, though a great philosopher, of great power and reverence, was a negative man, and he was made sensible by the Apostle, that, as a life of virtue and temperance was its own reward, by giving a healthy body, a clear head, and a composed life, so eternal happiness must proceed from another spring; namely, the infinite unbounded grace of a provoked God, who having erected a righteous tribunal, Jesus Christ would separate such as by faith and repentance he had brought home and united to himself by the grace of adoption, and on the foot of his having laid down his life as a ransom for them, had appointed them to salvation, when all the philosophy, temperance, and righteousness in the world besides had been ineffectual. And this, I say, it was, that made Felix, this negative man tremble.

CHAP. IV. _Of listening to the voice of Providence_.

The magnificent and wise King Solomon bids us cry after knowledge, and lift up our voice for understanding; by which is meant, religious knowledge, for it follows: _Then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God_. By which undoubtedly he meant, to enquire after every thing he has permitted us to know, and not to search into those ways that are unsearchable, and are effectually locked up from our knowledge.--Now, _as listening to the voice of Providence_ is my present subject, I intend, in the first place, to write to those who own, 1. That there is a God, a first great moving cause of all things, and eternal power, prior, and consequently superior to all created power or being.--2. That this eternal power, which is God, is the sovereign creator and governor of heaven and earth.

To avoid all needless distinctions, what persons in the God-head exercise the creating, and what the governing power, I offer that glorious text, Psal. xxiii. 6. where the whole Trinity is entitled to the whole creating work: and, therefore, in the next place, I shall lay down these two propositions.

I. _That the eternal God guides, by his providence, the whole
universe, which was created by his power._

II. _That this providence manifests a particular care over, and
concern in, the governing and directing man, the most noble
creature upon earth_.

It is plain, that natural religion proves the first, by intimating the necessity of a providence guiding and governing the world, from the consequence of the wisdom, justice, prescience, and goodness of the Almighty Creator: for otherwise it would be absurd to think, that God should create a world, without any care or providence over it, in guiding the operations of nature, so as to preserve the order of his creation.

Revealed religion gives us a light into the care and concern of his providence, by the climate's being made habitable, the creatures subjected and made nourishing, and all vegetative life made medicinal; and all this for the sake of man, who is made viceroy to the King of the earth. The short description I shall give of providence is this: _That it is that operation of the power, of the wisdom, and goodness of God, by which be influences, governs, and directs, not only the means, but the events of all things, which concern us in this sublunary world; the sovereignty of which we ought always to reverence, obey its motions, observe its dictates, and listen to its voice. The prudent man forseeth the evil, and hideth himself; that is, as I take it, there is a secret providence intimates to us, that some danger threatens, if we strive not to shun it_.

The same day that Sir John Hotham kept out Hull against the royal martyr King Charles I. the same day Sir John Hotham was put to death by the parliament for that very action: The same day that the King himself signed the warrant for the execution of the Earl of Stafford, the same day of the month was he barbarously murdered by the blood-thirsty Oliverian crew: and the same day that King James II. came to the crown against the bill of exclusion, the same day he was voted abdicated by the parliament, and the throne filled with King William and Queen Mary.

The voice of signal deliverances from sudden dangers, is not only a just call to repentance, but a caution against falling into the like danger; but such who are utterly careless of themselves after, show a lethargy of the worst nature, which seems to me to be a kind of practical atheism or at least, a living in a contempt of Heaven, when he receives good at the hand of his Maker, but is unconcerned from whence it comes, or to thank the bountiful hand that gave it; neither, when he receives evil, does it alter his manner of life, or bring him to any state of humiliation.

We have a remarkable story of two soldiers being condemned to death in Flanders. The general being prevailed upon to spare one of them, ordered them to cast dice upon the drumhead for their lives; the first having thrown two sixes, the second fell a wringing his hands, having so poor a chance to escape; however, having thrown, he was surprised when he also threw other two sixes. The officer appointed to see the execution, ordered them to throw again; they did so, and each of them threw fives; at which the soldiers that stood round, shouted, and said, neither of them was to die. Upon this, the officer acquainted the council of war, who ordered them to throw a third time, when they threw two fours: the general being acquainted with it, sent for the men, and pardoned them. _I love,_ said he, _in such extraordinary cases, to listen to the voice of Providence._

We read in the holy writings, how God speaks to men by appearance of angels, or by dreams and visions of the night. As God appeared to Abraham, Lot, and Jacob: so angels have appeared to many in other cases, as to Manoah and his wife, Zechariah, the Virgin Mary, and to the apostles; other have been warned in a dream as king Abimelech, the false prophet Balaam, and many others.

It is certainly a very great and noble inquiry, _What we shall be after this life?_ for there is scarce a doubt, that there is a place reserved for the reception of our souls after death: for if we are to be, we must have a where, which the scriptures assert by the examples of Dives and Lazarus. The doctrine of spirits was long believed before our Saviour's time; for when the disciples of the blessed Jesus perceived our Saviour walking on the sea, they were as much surprised as though they had seen a spirit. Nay, in those ages of the world, it was believed that spirits intermeddled in the affairs of mankind; and, throughout the Old Testament, I do not find any thing that in the least contradicts is. All the pains and labour that some learned men have taken, to confute the story of the witch of Endor, and the appearance of an old man personating Samuel, cannot make such apparitions inconsistent with nature or religion; and it is plain, that it was either a good or bad spirit, that prophetically told the unfortunate king what should happen the next day; for, said the spirit, _The Lord will deliver thee into the hands of the Philistines; and to-morrow shalt thou and thy sons be with me._

Abundance of strange notions possessed me, when I was in the desolate island; especially on a moonshine night, when every bush seemed a man, and every tree a man on horseback. When I crept into the dismal cave where the old goat lay expiring, whole articulate groans even resembled those of a man, how was I surprised! my blood chilled in my veins, a cold sweaty dew sat on my forehead, my hair stood upright, and my joints, like Belshazzar's knees, struck against one another. And, indeed, though I afterwards found what it was, the remains of this surprise did not wear off for a great while; and I had frequently returns of those vapours on different occasions, and sometimes without any occasion at all.

One night, after having seen some appearance in the air, as I had just lain down in my bed, one of my feet pained me; after that came a numbness, succeeded with a tingling in my blood; when on a sudden I thought something alive lay upon me, from my knee to above half my leg. Upon this I flung myself out of bed where I thought the creature lay; but finding nothing, _Lord deliver me from evil spirits_, said I, _what can this be?_ When I lighted a candle, I could perceive no living creature in the place with me, but the poor parrot, who, being frighted, cried out, _Hold your tongue_, and _What's the matter with you_, which words I had taught him, by saying so to him, when he made such screaming noises as I did not like. _Lord_, said I aloud, _surely the devil has been here._ _Hold your tongue_, says Poll. I was then mad at the bird, and putting on my clothes, cried, _I am terribly frighted._ _What's the matter with you_? says Poll. _You toad_, said I, _I'll knock your brains out._ _Hold you tongue_, cried he again, and so fell a chattering, and calling Robinson Crusoe, as he did before. But after I had composed myself, and went to bed again, I began plainly to see it was a distemper that affected my nerves, and so my terrors vanished at once.

How intelligences are given or received, we do not know; nor are we sensible how they are conveyed from spirits embodied to ours that are in life; or, on the contrary, from us to them; the latter is certainly done without help of the organs, and the former is conveyed by the understanding, and the retired faculties of the soul.

The spirits, without the help of voices, converse, and the more particular discoveries of converse of the spirits, seem to me as follow: to wit, dreams, voices, noises, impulses, hints, apprehensions, involuntary sadness, &c.

Dreams of old were the ways by which God himself was pleased to warn men what services to perform, and what to shun. Joseph was directed of God in a dream to go to Egypt; and so were the wise men warned in a dream to depart into their own country another way, to avoid the fury of Herod. I am not like those who think dreams are the mere designs of a delirious head, or the relics of a day's perplexities or pleasures; but, on the contrary, I must beg leave to say, I never met with any capital mischief in my life, but I had some notice of it by a dream; and had I not been a thoughtless unbelieving creature, I might have taken many a warning, and avoided many of the evils I afterwards fell into, merely by total neglect of those dreams.

I was once present at a dispute between a layman and a clergyman, upon the subject of dreams. The first thought no regard should be given unto them; that their communication from the invisible to the visible world was a mere chimera, without any solid foundation. For, first, said he, if dreams were from the agency of any prescient being, the motives would be more direct, and the discoveries more plain, and not by allegories and emblematic fancies, expressing things imperfect and obscure. 2. Since, with the notice of evil, there was not a power given to avoid it, it is not likely to proceed from a spirit, but merely fortuitious. 3. That the inconstancy of such notices, in cases equally important, proves they did not proceed from any such agent. 4. That as our most distinct dreams had nothing in them of any significancy, it would be irrational and vain to think that they came from heaven. And, 5. That as men were not always thus warned or supplied with notice of good or evil, so all men are not alike supplied with them; and what reason could we give, why one man or one woman should not have the same hints as another.

To all this the clergyman gave answer: 1. That as to the signification of dreams, & the objections against them, as being dark and doubtful, they are expressed generally by hierogliphical representations, similies, allusions, and figurative emblematic ways, by which means, for want of interpretation, the thing was not understood, and, consequently, the evil not shunned. 2. That we charge God foolishly, to say, that he has given the notice of evil, without the power to avoid it; for, if any one had not power to avoid the evil, it was no notice to him; and it was want of giving due head to that notice, that men first neglected themselves, and then charged the Judge of all the earth with injustice. 3. That we ought not to find fault with the inconstancy of these notices; but rather with our weak understandings, by pretending dreams were not to be regarded, and negligent when the voice really spoke to us for our good. It is a mistake to say, dreams have no import at all: we might, with more reason, have said, none that we could perceive the reason of, owing to our blindness and supine negligence, too secure at one time, and too much alarmed at another; so that the spirit, which we might be said to be conversing with in a dream, was constantly and equally kind and careful; but our powers are not always in the same state of action, not equally attentive too, or retentive of the hints that were given. And, 5. To answer the last question, Why people are not equally supplied? This seemed to be no question; for Providence itself might have some share in the direction of it, and then that Providence might be limited by a superior direction; that as to the converse of spirits, he could not call it a stated converse: such a thing there was, but why there was so much of it, and no more, was none of his business, and that no such discovery had ever yet been made to mankind. Nor were we to imagine less of waking dreams, trances, visions, noises, hints, impulses, and all the waking testimonies of an invisible world, and of the communication that there is between us and them, which commonly entertain us with our open eyes.

One time my fancy soared on high, to see what discoveries I could make in those clearer regions. I found that such immense bodies as the sun, stars, planets, and moon, in the great circle of the lower heaven, are far from being found in the study of nature on the surface of the earth. Here I saw many things that we can entertain little or no notion of, in a state of common life, and the emptiness of our notion, that the planets are habitable worlds; that is, created like ours, for the subsistence and existence of man and beast, and the preservation of the vegitative and sensitive life: No, no, this is, I assure you, a world of spirits; for here I saw a clear demonstration of Satan being the _prince of the power of the air_, keeping his court or camp, with innumerable angels to attend him; but his power is not so great as we imagine, he can tempt us to the crime, but cannot force us to commit: _Humanium est peccare_. Neither has the devil power to force the world into a rebellion against heaven, though his legions are employed among savage nations, to set up their master for a god, who make the heathens either worship him in person, or by his representatives, idols and monsters, with the cruel sacrifices of human blood. Now, as to the limitations of the devil's power, you must understand, that as there are numbers of evil spirits employed in mischief, so there are numbers of good angels sent from the higher and blessed abodes to disconcert and oppose their measures; and this every Christian, I hope, believes, when he prays to God, the father of spirits, to give his angels charge over him while he slumbereth and sleepeth. For if by these preventing powers the devil was not restrained, the earth would be subjected to dearth, droughts, and famine; the air infected with noxious fumes; and, in a word, mankind would be utterly destroyed, which might oblige our Maker (if I may be allowed the expression) to the necessity of a new _fiat_, or else have no more creatures to honour and worship him.

As the devil never wanted insinuators, I shall observe, that I learned a way how to make a man dream of what I pleased. For instance, let us suppose one to be found asleep; let another lay his mouth close to his ear, and whisper any thing so softly as not to awake him, the sleeping man shall dream of what has been so whispered in his ear; nay, I can assure you, those insinuating devils can do this even when we are awake, which I call impulses of the mind: for from whence, but from these insinuators, come our causeless passions, involuntary wickedness, or sinful desires? Who else form ideas in the mind of man when he is asleep, or present terrible or, beautiful figures to his fancy: Mr. Milton represents the devil tempting Eve in the shape of a toad, lying just at her ear, when in her bower she lay fast asleep; and brings in Eve telling Adam what an uneasy night's rest she had, and relating her dream to him. And likewise I believe that good spirits have the same intercourse with us, in warning us against those things that are evil, and prompting us to that which is good.

Were we to have the eyes of our souls opened, through the eyes of our bodies, we should see this very immediate region or air which we breath in, thronged with spirits now invisible, and which otherwise would be the most terrible; we should view the secret transactions of those messengers who are employed when the parting soul takes it's leave of the reluctant body, and perhaps see things nature would shrink back from with the utmost terror and amazement. In a word, the curtain of Providence for the disposition of things here, and the curtain of judgment for the determination of the state of souls hereafter, would be alike drawn back; and what heart could support here its future state in life; much less that, of its future state after life, even good or bad.

A gentleman of my acquaintance, being about seven miles distant from London, a friend that came to dine with him, solicited him to go to the city. _What_, said the gentleman, _is there any occasion for me? No, Sir_, said the other, _nothing at all except the enjoyment of your good company_: and so gave over importuning him. Just then a strong impulse of mind urged the gentleman and pursued him like a voice, with, _Go to London, Go to London. Hark ye_, says he to his friend, _is all well at London? Am I wanted there? Or did you ask me to go with you on any particular account? Are all my family well? Yes, indeed, Sir_, said he, _I perceived them all very hearty; and I did not ask you to go to London upon any particular account whatsoever, except it was for the sake of your good company_. Again, he put off his resolution: but still the impulse suggested to him, _Go to London_; and at length he did so. When he came there, he found a letter and a messenger had been there to seek him, and to tell him of a particular business, which was at first and last above a thousand pounds to him, and which might inevitably have been lost, had he hot gone to London that night.