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.
The obeying of several hints, of secret impulses, argues great wisdom.
I knew a man that was under misfortunes, being guilty of misdemeanors
against the goverment; when, absconding for fear of his ruin, all his
friends advising him not to put himself in the hands of the law, one
morning as he awaked, he felt a strong impulse darting into his mind
thus, _Write a letter to them;_ and this was repeated several times to
his mind, and at last he answered to it, as if it had been a voice,
_Whom shall I write to?_ Immediately it replied, _Write to the judge:_
and this impulse pursued him for several days, till at length he took
pen, ink, and paper, and sat down to write to him: when immediately
words flowed from his pen, like streams from a fair fountain, that
charmed even himself with hopes of success. In short, the letter was so
strenuous in argument, so pathetic in its eloquence, and so persuasively
moving, that when the judge had read it, he sent him an answer he might
be easy, he would endeavour to make that matter light to him; and,
indeed, never left exerting himself, till he had stopt the prosecution,
and restored him to his liberty and family.
I know a person who had so strong an impression upon her mind, that the
house she was in would be burnt that very night, that she could not
sleep; the impulse she had upon her mind pressed her not to go to bed,
which, however, she got over, and went to bed; but was so terrified with
the thought, which run in her mind, that the house would be burnt, that
she could not go to sleep; but communicating her apprehensions to
another in the family, they were both in such a fright, that they
applied themselves to search from the top of the house to the bottom, &
to see every fire and candle safe out, so that, as they all said, it was
impossible that any thing could happen then, and they sent to the
neighbours on both sides to do the like. Thus far they did well: But had
she obeyed the hint which pressed upon her strangely, not to go to bed,
she had done much better; for the fire was actually kindled at that very
time, though not broken out. About an hour after the whole family was in
bed, the house just over the way, directly opposite, was all in flames,
and the wind, which was very high, blowing the flame upon the house this
gentlewoman lived in, so filled it with smoke and fire, in a few
minutes, the street being narrow, that they had not air to breathe, or
time to do any thing, but jump out of their beds, and save their lives.
Had she obeyed the hint given, and not gone to bed, she might have saved
several things; but the few moments she had spared to her, were but just
sufficient to leap out of bed, put some cloathes on, and get down
stairs, for the house was on fire in half a quarter of an hour.
While I am mentioning these things, methinks it is very hard that we
should obey the whispers of evil spirits, and not much rather receive
the notices which good ones are pleased to give. We never perceive the
misfortune of this, but when in real danger; and then we cry, _My mind
misgave me when I was going about it_; but if so, why do you fight the
caution? Why not listen to it as to a voice? and then there had been no
reason to make this complaint.
I remember about fourteen or fifteen years ago (as to time I cannot be
very positive) there was a young clergyman in the city of Dublin, in
Ireland, who dreamed a very uncommon dream, that a gentleman had killed
his wife, a relation of his, by stabbing her in several places; the
fright of this awaked him, but finding it a dream, he composed himself
again to sleep, when he dreamed a second time the same dream. This made
him a little uneasy; but thinking it proceeded from the impression made
on his mind by the former, he went to sleep again, and dreamed the same
dream a third time also. So troubled was he at this, that he arose, and
knocked at his mother's chamber, told his concern, and his apprehensions
that all was not right at his relation's house. _Dear son_, says the
good old gentlewoman, _do not mind these foolish dreams; and I very much
wonder, that you, being a person in holy orders, should have regard to
such illusions_. Upon this he went to bed again, fell asleep, and
dreamed a fourth time as before. And then indeed he put on his
night-gown, and went to Smithfield, the place where his relation dwelt.
Here it was, alas! he perceived his dream too sadly fulfilled, by seeing
his relation the young lady, big with child, who was a Protestant,
stabbed in several places by her barbarous husband, Mr. Eustace, a
violent Papist, only for some discourses of religion that happened the
day before. After the wretch had stabbed her in three places, he went to
make his escape out at a window; but she cried out, _My dear! don't
leave me, come back, and I shall be well again_. At which he returned in
a hellish rage, and gave her four wounds more; when, even in this
condition, rising from her bed, she wrapped herself in her night-gown,
and went to the Lord Bishop of Rapho's chamber door (the Bishop lodging
at that time in the house). _My Lord_, said she, _O my Lord, make haste
unto me_; but as soon as his Lordship came, she expired in his arms,
resigning her precious soul into the hands of Almighty God. The cruel
wretch her husband was shot by the pursuers; too good a death for one
who deserved the gibbet; and the lady was universally lamented by all
tender and religious people. And this tragical relation I have
mentioned, upon the account of that impulse, or dream, that the
clergyman had at the fatal time of the bloody action.
It might be expected I should enter upon the subject of apparitions,
and discourse concerning the reality of them; and whether they can
revisit the place of their former existence, and resume those faculties
of speech and shape as they had when living; but, as these are very
doubtful matters, I shall only make a few observations upon them.
I once heard of a man that would allow the reality of apparitions, but
laid it all upon the devil, thinking that the souls of men departed, or
good men, did never appear. To this very man something did appear: He
said, he saw the shape of an ancient man pass by him in the dusk, who,
holding up his hand in a threatening posture, cried out, _O wicked man,
repent, repent_. Terrified with this apparition, he consulted several
friends, who advised him to take the advice. But after all, it was not
an apparition, but a grave and pious gentleman, who met him by mere
accident, and had been sensible of his wickedness; and who never
undeceived him, lest it should hinder his reformation.
Some people make a very ill use of the general notion, that there are no
apparitions nor spirits at all: which is worse than those who fancy they
see them upon every occasion; for those carry their notions farther,
even to annihilate the devil, and believe nothing about him, neither of
one kind or other: the next step they come to, is to conclude, _There is
no God_, and so atheism takes its rise in the same sink, with a
carelessness about futurity. But there is no occasion to enter upon an
argument to prove the being of the Almighty, or to illustrate his power
by words, who has so many undeniable testimonies in the breasts of every
rational being to prove his existence: and we have sufficient proofs
enough to convince us of the great superintendency of Divine Providence
in the minutest affairs of this world; the manifest existence of the
invisible world; the reality of spirits, and intelligence between us and
them. What I have said, I hope, will not mislead any person, or be a
means whereby they may delude themselves; for I have spoken of these
things with the utmost seriousness of mind, and with a sincere and
ardent desire for the general good and benefit of the world.
CHAP. V. _Of suffering Afflictions._
Afflictions are common to all mankind; and whether they proceed from
losses, disappointments, or the malice of men, they often bring their
advantages along with them: For this shews man the vanity and
deceitfulness of this life, and is an occasion of rectifying our
measures, and bringing us to a more modest opinion of ourselves: It
tells us, how necessary the assistance of divine grace is unto us, when
life itself becomes a burden, and death even desirable: But when the
greatest oppression comes upon us, we must have recourse to patience,
begging of God to give us that virtue; and the more composed, we are
under any trouble, the more commendable is our wisdom, and the larger
will be our recompense. Let the provocation be what it will, whether
from a good-natured and conscientious, or a wicked, perverse, and
vexatious man; all this we should take as from the over-ruling hand of
God, as a punishment for our sins. Many times injured innocence may be
abused by false oaths, or the power of wicked, jealous, or malicious
men; but we often find it, like the palm, rise the higher the more it is
depressed; while the justice of God is eminently remarkable in punishing
those, one way or other, who desire to endeavour to procure the downfal
of an innocent man: Nor does God fail comforting an afflicted person,
who with tears and prayers solicits the throne of Heaven for deliverance
and protection. David says, _that his soul was full of trouble, and his
life drew near unto the grave_. But certainly David's afflictions made
him eminently remarkable, as particularly when pursued by King Saul, and
hunted as a partridge over the mountains. But one thing which stands by
innocence, is the love of God; for were we to suffer disgrace, nay, an
ignominious death itself, what consolation does our innocence procure at
our latest conflict, our last moments!
CHAP. VI. _Of the immorality of conversation, and the vulgar errors of
behaviour_.
As conversation is a great part of human happiness, so it is a pleasant
sight to behold a sweet tempered man, who is always fit for it; to see
an air of humour and pleasantness sit ever upon his brow, and even
something angelic in his very countenance: Whereas, if we observe a
designing man, we shall find a mark of involuntary sadness break in upon
his joy, and a certain insurrection in the soul, the natural concomitant
of profligate principles.
They err very much, who think religion, or a strict morality discomposes
the mind, and renders it unfit for conversation; for it rather inspires
us to innocent mirth, without such a counterfeit joy as vitious men
appear with; and indeed wit is as consistent with religion, as religion
is with good manners; nor is there any thing in the limitation of virtue
and religion that should abate the pleasures of this world, but on the
contrary rather serves to increase them.
On the other hand, many men, by their own vice and intemperance,
disqualify themselves for conversation. Conversation is immoral, where
the discourse is undecent, immodest, scandalous, slanderous, and
abusive. How great is their folly, and how much do they expose
themselves when they affront their best friend, even God himself, who
laughs at the fool _when his fear cometh?_
The great scandal atheistical and immoral discourse gives to virtue,
ought, methinks, to be punished by all good magistrates: Make a man once
cease to believe a God, and he has nothing left to limit his soul. How
incongruous is it to government, that a man shall be punished for
drunkenness, and yet have liberty to affront, and even deny the Majesty
of heaven? When if, even among men, one gives the lie to a gentleman in
company, or perhaps speaks an affronting word, a quarrel will ensue, and
a combat, and perhaps murder be the consequence: At the least, he, will
prosecute him at law with the utmost virulence and oppression.
The next thing to be refrained, is obscene discourse, which is the
language only of proficients in debauchery, who never repent, but in a
gaol or hospital; and whose carcases relish no better than their
discourse, till the body becomes too nasty for the soul to stay any
longer in it.
Nor is false talking to be less avoided; for lying is the sheep's
clothing hung upon the wolf's back: It is the Pharisee's prayer, the
whore's buss, the hypocrite's paint, the murderer's smile, the thief's
cloak; it is Joab's embrace, and Judah's kiss; in a word, it is
mankind's darling sin, and the devil's distinguishing character. Some
add lies to lies, till it not only comes to be improbable, but even
impossible too: Others lie for gain to deceive, delude, and betray: And
a third lies for sport, or for fun. There are other liars, who are
personal and malicious; who foment differences, and carry tales from one
house to another, in order to gratify their own envious tempers, without
any regard to reverence or truth.
THE
REMARKABLE HISTORY
OF
ALEXANDER SELKIRK
_From the voyage of Captain Woodes Rogers to the South Seas and round
the World._
* * * * *
On February 1st, 1709, we came before that island,[1] having had a good
observation the day before, and found our latitude to be 34 degrees 10
minutes south. In the afternoon, we hoisted out our pinnace; and Captain
Dover, with the boat's crew, went in her to go ashore, though we could
not be less that four leagues off. As soon as the pinnace was gone, I
went on board the Duchess, who admired our boat attempting going ashore
at that distance from land. It was against my inclination: but, to
oblige Captain Dover, I let her go: As soon as it was dark, we saw a
light ashore. Our boat was then about a league off the island, and bore
away for the ship as soon as she saw the lights: We put our lights
aboard for the boat, though some were of opinion, the lights we saw were
our boat's lights: But, as night came on, it appeared too large for
that: We fired our quarter-deck gun, and several muskets, showing lights
in our mizen and fore-shrouds, that our boat might find us whilst we
were in the lee of the island: About two in the morning our boat came on
board, having been two hours on board the Duchess, that took them up
astern of us; we were glad they got well off, because it began to blow.
We were all convinces the light was on the shore, and designed to make
our ships ready to engage, believing them to be French ships at anchor,
and we must either fight them, or want water. All this stir and
apprehension arose, as we afterwards found, from one poor naked man, who
passed in our imagination, at present, for a Spanish garrison, a body of
Frenchmen, or a crew of pirates. While we were under these
apprehensions, we stood on the backside of the island, in order to fall
in with the southerly wind, till we were past the island; and then we
came back to it again, and ran close aboard the land that begins to make
the north-east side.
[Footnote 1: _Juan Fernandez._]
We still continued to reason upon this matter; and it is in a manner
incredible, what strange notions many of our people entertained from the
sight of the fire upon the island. It served, however, to show people's
tempers and spirits; and we were able to give a tolerable guess how our
men would behave, in case there really were any enemies upon the island.
The flaws came heavy off the shore, and we were forced to reef our
topsails when we opened the middle bay, where we expected to have found
our enemy; but saw all clear, & no ships, nor in the other bay next the
north-east end. These two bays are all that ships ride in, which recruit
on this island; but the middle bay is by much the best. We guessed there
had been ships there, but that they were gone on sight of us. We sent
our yawl ashore about noon, with Captain Dover, Mr. Fry, and six men,
all armed: Mean while we and the Duchess kept turning to get in, and
such heavy flaws came off the land, that we were forced to let go our
top sail sheet, keeping all hands to stand by our sails, for fear of the
winds carrying them away: But when the flaws were gone, we had little or
no wind. These flaws proceeded from the land; which is very high in the
middle of the island. Our boat did not return; we sent our pinnace with
the men armed, to see what was the occasion of the yawl's stay; for we
were afraid, that the Spaniards had a garrison there, and might have
seized them. We put out a signal for our boat, and the Duchess showed a
French ensign. Immediately our pinnace returned from the shore, and
brought abundance of cry-fish, with a man clothed in goats skins, who
looked wilder than the first owners of them. He had been on the island
four years and four months, being left there by Captain Stradling in the
Cinque-ports, his name was Alexander Selkirk, a Scotchman, who had been
master of the Cinque-ports, a ship that came here last with Captain
Dampier, who told me, that this was the best man in her. I immediately
agreed with him to be a mate on board our ship: It was he that made the
fire last night when he saw our ships, which he judged to be English.
During his stay here he saw several ships pass by, but only two came in
to anchors: As he went to view them; he found them to be Spaniards, and
retired from them, upon which they shot at him: Had they been French, he
would have submitted; but choose to risque his dying alone on the
island, rather than fall into the hands of Spaniards in these parts;
because he apprehended they would murder him, or make a slave of him in
the mines; for he feared they would spare no stranger that might be
capable of discovering the South Seas.