Робінзон Крузо
Ill and Conscience–Stricken
Thewordswereveryapttomycase,andmadesomeimpressionuponmythoughtsatthetimeofreadingthem,thoughnotsomuchastheydidafterwards; forasforbeingdelivered,thewordhadnosound,asImaysay,tome,thethingwassoremote,soimpossibleinmyapprehensionofthings,thatIbegantosay,asthechildrenofIsraeldidwhentheywerepromisedfleshtoeat, "CanGodspreadatableinthewilderness?" soIbegantosay, CanGodHimselfdelivermefromthisplace? Andasitwasnotformanyyearsthatanyhopeappeared,thisprevailedveryoftenuponmythoughts. But,however,thewordsmadeagreatimpressionuponme,andImuseduponthemveryoften.
Itgrewnowlate,andthetobaccohad,asIsaid,dozedmyheadsomuch,thatIinclinedtosleep; soIleftmylampburninginthecave,lestIshouldwantanythinginthenight,andwenttobed. ButbeforeIlaydown,IdidwhatIneverhaddoneinallmylife: IkneeleddownandprayedtoGodtofulfillthepromisetome,thatifIcalleduponHiminthedayoftrouble,Hewoulddeliverme. Aftermybrokenandimperfectprayerwasover,IdranktheruminwhichIhadsteepedthetobacco; whichwassostrongandrankofthetobaccothatindeedIcouldscarcelygetitdown. ImmediatelyuponthisIwenttobed.Ifoundpresentlyitflewupinmyheadviolently; butIfellintoasoundsleep,andwakednomoretill,bythesun,itmustnecessarilybenearthreeo’clockintheafternoonthenextday. Nay,tohishourIampartlyoftheopinionthatIsleptallthenextdayandnight,andtillalmostthreethatdayafter; forotherwiseIknownothowIshouldloseadayoutofmyreckoninginthedaysoftheweek,asitappearedsomeyearsafterhaddone. ForifIhadlostitbycrossingandrecrossingtheline,Ishouldhavelostmorethanoneday. ButcertainlyIlostadayinmyaccount,andneverknewwhichway.
