The Further Adventures of Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe

manner; I, say, what business had I to rush into new hazards, and

put myself upon adventures fit only for youth and poverty to run

into?

With those thoughts I considered my new engagement; that I had a

wife, one child born, and my wife then great with child of another;

that I had all the world could give me, and had no need to seek

hazard for gain; that I was declining in years, and ought to think

rather of leaving what I had gained than of seeking to increase it;

that as to what my wife had said of its being an impulse from

Heaven, and that it should be my duty to go, I had no notion of

that; so, after many of these cogitations, I struggled with the

power of my imagination, reasoned myself out of it, as I believe

people may always do in like cases if they will: in a word, I

conquered it, composed myself with such arguments as occurred to my

thoughts, and which my present condition furnished me plentifully

with; and particularly, as the most effectual method, I resolved to

divert myself with other things, and to engage in some business

that might effectually tie me up from any more excursions of this

kind; for I found that thing return upon me chiefly when I was

idle, and had nothing to do, nor anything of moment immediately

before me. To this purpose, I bought a little farm in the county

of Bedford, and resolved to remove myself thither. I had a little

convenient house upon it, and the land about it, I found, was

capable of great improvement; and it was many ways suited to my

inclination, which delighted in cultivating, managing, planting,

and improving of land; and particularly, being an inland country, I

was removed from conversing among sailors and things relating to

the remote parts of the world. I went down to my farm, settled my

family, bought ploughs, harrows, a cart, waggon-horses, cows, and

sheep, and, setting seriously to work, became in one half-year a

mere country gentleman. My thoughts were entirely taken up in

managing my servants, cultivating the ground, enclosing, planting,

&c.; and I lived, as I thought, the most agreeable life that nature

was capable of directing, or that a man always bred to misfortunes

was capable of retreating to.

I farmed upon my own land; I had no rent to pay, was limited by no

articles; I could pull up or cut down as I pleased; what I planted

was for myself, and what I improved was for my family; and having

thus left off the thoughts of wandering, I had not the least

discomfort in any part of life as to this world. Now I thought,

indeed, that I enjoyed the middle state of life which my father so

earnestly recommended to me, and lived a kind of heavenly life,

something like what is described by the poet, upon the subject of a

country life:-

“Free from vices, free from care,

Age has no pain, and youth no snare.”

But in the middle of all this felicity, one blow from unseen

Providence unhinged me at once; and not only made a breach upon me

inevitable and incurable, but drove me, by its consequences, into a

deep relapse of the wandering disposition, which, as I may say,

being born in my very blood, soon recovered its hold of me; and,

like the returns of a violent distemper, came on with an

irresistible force upon me. This blow was the loss of my wife. It

is not my business here to write an elegy upon my wife, give a

character of her particular virtues, and make my court to the sex

by the flattery of a funeral sermon. She was, in a few words, the

stay of all my affairs; the centre of all my enterprises; the

engine that, by her prudence, reduced me to that happy compass I

was in, from the most extravagant and ruinous project that filled

my head, and did more to guide my rambling genius than a mother’s

tears, a father’s instructions, a friend’s counsel, or all my own

reasoning powers could do. I was happy in listening to her, and in

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