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				<title type="main">The Female American; Or, The Adventures of Unca Eliza Winkfield
					(Vol. II)				
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							<forename>Unca Eliza</forename>
							<surname>Winkfield</surname>
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					<name>Hanna Beleck</name>
					<name>Bridget Collins</name>
					<name>Kloee Dillingham</name>
					<name>Milan Geurin</name>
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					<addrLine>mburkert@uoregon.edu</addrLine>
					<addrLine>lic.open.anthology@gmail.com</addrLine>
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						<author>
							<forename>Unca Eliza</forename>
							<surname>Winkfield</surname>
						</author>
						<title>The Female American; or, The Adventures of Unca Eliza Winkfield.
							Compiled by herself. In two volumes.						
							</title>
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							<pubPlace>London</pubPlace>
							<publisher>Printed for Francis Noble, at his Circulating Library, Opposite Gray's-Inn Gate, Holbourn;<lb/>
								<lb/>AND<lb/>
								<lb/>John Noble, at his Circulating Library, in St. Martin's-Court, near Leicefter-Square.<lb/>
								<lb/>MDCCLXVII</publisher>
								<note>Page images from this 1767 first edition are provided courtesy of
									the	<ref target="https://jcblibrary.org/permissions">John Carter 
									Brown Library</ref> and were retrieved from the <ref target="https://archive.org/details/femaleamericanor01wink">
									Internet Archive</ref>.</note>
						</imprint>
						<imprint>
							<pubPlace>
								<placeName>Northeastern University - Snell Library 213, Boston, MA
									02115-5005</placeName>
							</pubPlace>
							<publisher>Women Writers Project</publisher>
							<date when="2024">2024</date>
							<note>A key data source for this project was generously provided by the
								Women Writers Project of Northeastern University.</note>
							<note>Provided data consists of the XML-encoded primary text, associated
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								</note>
							<note>The Women Writers Project (<ref target="https://www-wwp-northeastern-edu.uoregon.idm.oclc.org/">
								https://www-wwp-northeastern-edu.uoregon.idm.oclc.org/</ref>)
								is a long-term researh project devoted to early modern women's
								writing and electronic text encoding as part of the Digital
								Scholarship Group at Northeastern University.
								(<ref target="https://dsg.northeastern.edu/">https://dsg.northeastern.edu/</ref>). 
								The provided XML file and associated data underlie the Women
								Writer's Project's text of Volume 2 in the Women Writers Online
								collection and was provided upon request.							</note>
						</imprint>
						<extent>2v.; 12°</extent>
						<biblScope unit="volume">II</biblScope>
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					<name type="tgn" key="7002445">England</name>
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					<name type="tgn" key="8729366">Caribbean</name>
					<name type="tgn" key="7004550">West Indies</name>
					<time from="1607" to="1640">Early 17th Century</time>
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				<p>This text is prepared as part of the <hi rend="italic">Literature in Context</hi>
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					primary sources relevant to the study and the teaching of British and American
					literature. This project is funded by the National Endowment for the Humanities 
					and developed by faculty at The University of Virginia, Marymount University, 
					and George Mason University.				
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					<p>Research informing these annotations draws on publicly-accessible resources,
						with links and/or Digital Object Identifiers (DOIs) provided where possible. 
						Glosses of archaic words and word usages are derived from the Oxford English 
						Dictionary Online, accessed through the University of Oregon Libraries. 
						Annotations also include common knowledge, defined as information that can 
						be found in multiple reliable sources. If you notice an error in these 
						annotations, please contact lic.open.anthology@gmail.com.
						<lb/>
						We recognize the technological infrastructure that has allowed us to create
						this digital edition, including the extraction of rare earth minerals,
						human labor to produce electronic devices, and the use of fossil fuels to
						power those devices. We encourage readers to account for the material
						conditions of their access to this edition as a site of entanglement with
						and indebtedness to Indigenous communities whose stewardship of the land
						stretches back to times immemorial and persists to this day.					
						</p>
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						the middle of a word, the complete word is indicated at the beginning of 
						the second page. Where footnotes in the original continue across a page break, 
						the full text of the note is associated with the first page in the range. 
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				<correction>
					<p>Materials have been transcribed from and checked against first editions,
						where possible. See the sources section.					
						</p>
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		<front>
			<titlePage>
				<pb n="A1r" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_001.png"/>
				<docTitle>
					<titlePart type="main">THE Female American;<lb/>
                    </titlePart>
					
					<titlePart type="sub">
						OR, THE<lb/> 
						ADVENTURES<lb/>
						OF<lb/> 
						UNCA ELIZA WINKFIELD.<lb/>
						COMPILED BY HERSELF.<lb/>
						IN TWO VOLUMES.<lb/>
						VOL. II.<lb/>
					</titlePart>
				</docTitle>
				<docAuthor/>
				<docImprint>
					<pubPlace>
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7011781">LONDON:</placeName>
                        <lb/>
					</pubPlace>
					<publisher>Printed for <persName type="lcnaf" key="nr93028454">
						FRANCIS NOBLE</persName>, at his Circulating<lb/>Library, opposite 
						<hi rend="italic">
                            <placeName type="lcnaf" key="n50065170">Gray's-Inn</placeName> Gate, 
						<placeName type="tgn" key="1004682">Holbourn</placeName>
                        </hi>; 
						<lb/>AND<lb/>
                        <persName type="lcnaf" key="nb2008022977">JOHN NOBLE</persName>, 
						<ref target="library_" corresp="library">at his Circulating Library</ref>
						<note xml:id="library" target="library_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
							<graphic url="notes/library.jpg" alt="Athena (identified by her shield) and Apollo (identified by his lyre)         sit on clouds surrounding a monument of books adorned with flowers         labeled 'J. Noble's Circulating Library'. The caption reads 'L'ectorem         delectando panterque monendo. - Hor.'" source="https://digitalcollections.folger.edu/img45714" desc="Apollo and Athena invite a reader to enjoy John Noble's library         of educational and entertaining books. Frontispiece illustration to         'A new catalogue of the large and valuable collection of books:         (both English and French) in John Noble's circulating library.         Consisting of several thousand volumes...which are lent to read,'         circa 1761. Public domain image, Folger Shakespeare Library         Digital Collections"/>Francis and John Noble were booksellers and publishers who ran a 
							successful circulating library starting in the 1740s. Rochelle Raineri 
							Zuck speculates that <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> may have 
							been the product of the "stable of writers" the Nobles employed "to 
							produce new work at a rapid pace" for their libraries-something like the 
							eighteenth-century equivalent of Internet 
							<ref target="https://researchguides.austincc.edu/contentfarms">
							content farms</ref>. See Zuck, "Who Wrote 
							<hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>?" in 
							<hi rend="italic">English Literary History</hi> 89.3 (2022): 669.
							<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1353/elh.2022.0023">
							DOI:10.1353/elh.2022.0023</ref>.
							</note>
							, in						
							<lb/>
						<hi rend="italic">
                            <placeName>St. Martin's-Court</placeName>
                        </hi>, near 
						<hi rend="italic">
                            <placeName>Leicester-Square</placeName>
                        </hi>.
						<lb/>
					</publisher>
				</docImprint>
				<docDate when="1767">MDCCLXVII.</docDate>
			</titlePage>
		</front>
		<body>
			<div type="chapter" n="1">
			<pb n="1" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_002.png"/>
				<head type="main">THE
				<lb/>
				Female
					<ref target="American_" corresp="American">American</ref>; 
					<note xml:id="American" target="American_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#OUStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/vespucci.jpg" alt="A European explorer holding an astrolabe, a staff,        and a flag encounters a shocked woman in a hammock wearing        only a feathered cap and skirt." source="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/666288" desc="Theodore Galle, 'Allegory of America,' ca. 1600.        Public Domain image, Metropolitan Museum of Art."/>
						This engraving by Netherlandish artist Theodoor Galle imitates 
						Johannes Stradanus' original drawing of Italian explorer Amerigo 
						Vespucci. In this allegorical image, Vespucci is shown 'awakening' 
						a woman who personifies America. The caption, 'Americen Americus 
						retexit, semel vocauit inde semper excitam,' roughly translates to 
						'Americus rediscovers America, once awakened, always aroused,' 
						further underscoring the sexualized and racialized ideology of 
						conquest. Like many depictions from this period, it visualizes 
						the so-called discovery of the Americas as an act of European male 
						dominance over feminized, exoticized, and passive land and peoples.
						</note>
					<lb/>
					OR, THE<lb/>
					ADVENTURES<lb/>
					OF UNCA ELIZA WINKFIELD.<lb/>
					</head>
				<head type="main">CHAP. I.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Our heroine traverses the island; 
					description of an uncommon animal, with her thoughts thereon.</hi>
				</head>
				
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">I</hi> HAD matter enough to employ my thoughts 
					during this interim, to reconsider what I had said, and what method 
					I should pursue for the future with these people. Besides, I had some 
					domestick cares
			<pb n="2" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_003.png"/>
					upon my hands: I now set about preparing a better convenience for my 
					rest by night, and busied myself the remainder of the day, as soon as 
					I perceived the people were gone off the island, with gathering leaves 
					and other things to make my bed, which at last I made pretty tolerable. 
					The next day I removed all the things I had concealed into the subterraneous 
					apartments, bestowing some in one and some in another. I found it necessary 
					also to provide myself with more fat, that I might now want light, and 
					indeed with some meat; for these purposes I was obliged to kill a couple 
					of goats, a task always very disagreeable to me. As my habitation was very 
					gloomy and melancholy, I spent what leisure time I had, in walking up and
			<pb n="3" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_004.png"/>
					down the island. In these few days, I saw more of it than I had in all 
					the time I had been upon the island. I found it well watered with little
					<ref target="rivulets_" corresp="rivulets">rivulets</ref>
					<note xml:id="rivulets" target="rivulets_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">streams</note> and vast variety of trees, 
					many of which bore different kinds of fruits. Those which I perceived 
					had been pecked by birds I tasted, and found some of them very delicious.
					</p>
				<p>Among the various kinds of birds I found one sort exceeding beautiful. 
					It was about the size of a large parrot; its feathers delightfully 
					<ref target="variegated_" corresp="variegated">variegated</ref>
					<note xml:id="variegated" target="variegated_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">varied</note>with the colours of the 
					rain-bow, those of its tail spreading like those of the peacock; 
					but not near so large, nor numerous. Of the four-footed animals I saw one of a
					<ref target="extraordinary_" corresp="extraordinary">most extraordinary kind</ref>.
					<note xml:id="extraordinary" target="extraordinary_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/bestiary.jpg" alt="Two-page spread featuring colorful illustrations of eight different        fantastical creatures, each labeled with ornate gothic script" source="https://collections.britishart.yale.edu/catalog/orbis:9452785" desc="Helmingham Herbal and Bestiary (1500), Yale Center for British Art.        Reused under Yale Library's Open Access Policy."/>
						The absurd nature of the fictious animal described in this passage implies 
						a metaphorical meaning. The animal's only means of survival is deceiving its 
						prey, pretending to sleep in order to capture it. Anna Brickhouse connects 
						this description to Unca Eliza's own deception of the island's Indigenous 
						people, claiming that "Unca Eliza is both transfixed and patently disturbed 
						by the greed and violence of this strange colonial animal. A nightmarish 
						embodiment of her own predicament." Brickhouse, "The Indian Slave Trade in 
						Unca Eliza Winkfield's <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>."
						<hi rend="italic">The Yearbook of English Studies</hi> 46 (2016): 115-126.
						<ref target="https://dx.doi.org/10.1353/yes.2016.0008">
						DOI: 10.1353/yes.2016.0008</ref>.
						</note> It was of the size of a large
			<pb n="4" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_005.png"/>
					dog, as to its body, but its legs, which were very long, were by no means 
					proportioned to the bulk of this strange animal, being so slender as to bend 
					under him, insomuch that it could move only with the utmost slowness. I wondered 
					within myself how this creature could either defend, or provide for itself; but 
					observing it more closely, I took notice that its eyes were uncommonly large, for 
					an animal of that size, projecting far from the head, and so frightful as to 
					excite fear in me; and I should have fled from it, only that I perceived it 
					could not overtake me, had I walked ever so slow. The mouth of it was no less 
					dreadful; it kept the lips of it almost constantly drawn <ref target="asunder_" corresp="asunder">asunder</ref>
                    <note xml:id="asunder" target="asunder_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">split apart</note>, 
					which showed two horrid rows of sharp, but short teeth.</p>
			<pb n="5" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_006.png"/>
				<p>It was at this time labouring to get into a kind of pasture. 
					I determined to watch its motions, thinking it might be seeking 
					its prey; for I did not doubt but that the goodness and wisdom of 
					<ref target="providence_" corresp="providence">providence</ref>,<note xml:id="providence" target="providence_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">God's divine plan</note>	which 
					had thus wonderfully provided for its security, had 
					doubtless taken no less care for its support. It was a long time in 
					getting to the place it seemed designed to reach. As it walked or 
					rather limped along, several animals passed it, many much bigger than 
					itself, who no sooner saw it than they ran from it, as if afraid of 
					being destroyed by it. I took notice that as any of these approached him, 
					he <ref target="rowled_" corresp="rowled">rowled</ref>
					<note xml:id="rowled" target="rowled_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">rolled</note> his eyes, 
					which encreased their fierceness, at the same time showing his teeth.
					</p>
			<pb n="6" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_007.png"/>
				<p>At length he got into the grass, and then laid himself down, 
					extended as if dead. I came up to him behind, for his looks were 
					too terrifying to face him, and sitting down at some distance, was 
					resolved to watch, that I might discover whether he chose this place 
					merely for rest, or with some other view. He soon changed his posture 
					a little, so that I could perceive that his eyes were shut, and his lips 
					closed; I therefore concluded that he was going to sleep; however, I 
					still continued in my place. The hair on his body was very thick and 
					long, perhaps five or six inches; the extremities of every cluster of 
					them formed a kind of bunch, or small tuft, as large as an hasel-nut. 
					Having sat about a quarter of an hour, I saw a great number of field-mice
			<pb n="7" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_008.png"/>
					come up to him, who presently began to nibble at these tufts, 
					the animal continuing to lie still; but after a very considerable 
					number of mice had thus employed themselves, he got up, and shook 
					himself violently; when, to my great astonishment, I found these mice, 
					some way or other so fastened and secured to these tufts, that very 
					few of them could disengage themselves. And now, his neck being very 
					long, he turned his head, and devoured them very greedily, one after 
					another. I dare say that in a few minutes, he ate near three hundred 
					of them; for his body was almost covered with them.
					</p>
				<p>My curiosity was amply gratified, if an human being may say so, of
			<pb n="8" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_009.png"/>
					the sudden destruction of such a number of innocent animals; but the 
					divine being has been pleased to permit animals to support themselves 
					by devouring one another. I say permit; for I cannot think that it was 
					the original design of the Almighty, that animals should at all 
					destroy one another. I suppose it rather to be one of the unhappy 
					consequences of the general corruption of nature. I know it may be 
					replied, that some animals seem by their make to be designed to subsist 
					on animal food only, and are accordingly provided with teeth and claws, 
					unadapted for feeding on <ref target="herbage_" corresp="herbage">herbage</ref>,
					<note xml:id="herbage" target="herbage_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">stems and leaves</note> or fruits, 
					and with stomachs evidently made for digesting animal substances; 
					whilst those parts in animals who eat no animal food, are
			<pb n="9" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_010.png"/>
					quite differently formed. I know and grant this; but yet my opinion 
					is not by this concession destroyed. For it is highly reasonable to 
					suppose, that these kind of creatures were so formed to prey upon dead 
					animals, that by their feeding upon them, they might remove what would 
					otherwise be an hurtful nuisance, in more senses than one. However, 
					it is not my intention, here, to display the naturalist; otherwise I think, 
					<ref target="though-a-woman_" corresp="though-a-woman">though a woman
					</ref>, <note xml:id="though-a-woman" target="though-a-woman_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/judith.jpg" alt="Portrait of a woman dressed in a gown with her hair up,         holding a staff." source="https://digitalcollections.folger.edu/img65408" desc="Image from Thomas Heywood's 'The exemplary lives and memorable acts of         nine the most worthy women of the world' (1640).         Folger Shakespeare Library, CC-0 license."/>
						The phrase "though a woman" serves as a brief but significant 
						acknowledgment of gendered restrictions on knowledge in eighteenth-century 
						England. Although Unca Eliza is  depicted as a strong and smart 
						individual who challenges traditional gender roles, she establishes 
						her credibility by referencing foundational male philosophers, 
						indicating her awareness of cultural expectations regarding women's 
						intellectual ability. Scholar Jill Conway asserts that "European 
						women intellectuals were either declasse, or else they lived a 
						contemplative life in a religious community." Unca Eliza's isolation 
						on the  island literalizes the social exile faced by intellectual 
						women at the time. See Conway, "Perspectives on the History of Women's 
						Education in the United States."
						<hi rend="italic">History of Education Quarterly</hi> 14.1 (1974): 1–12.
						<ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/367602">
						DOI: 10.2307/367602</ref>.</note> I should gain the laurel from an 
						<ref target="aristotle_" corresp="aristotle">
						<persName type="lcnaf" key="n79004182">Aristotle</persName> or a 
						<persName type="lcnaf" key="n79075182">Pliny</persName>
                    </ref>, 
					<note xml:id="aristotle" target="aristotle_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						This moment reflects the complex changing attitudes
						towards the capabilities of women during the Enlightenment. Unca Eliza both
						establishes her womanhood as something inferior to male intellectuals
						and simultaneously places herself above classical scholars. While women
						at the time were becoming increasingly established in intellectual fields
						they were still seen as inferior to men. In	
						<ref target="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/women-and-enlightenment-in-       eighteenthcentury-britain/AEAC1E0C0AAC0076C3B9E5742E079918">
						<hi rend="italic">Women and Enlightenment in Eighteenth Century Britain</hi>
						</ref>(Cambridge University Press, 2009), Karen O'Brien writes that, while the
						progress of women in eighteenth-century Britain cannot be likened to feminism
						as we know it, the Enlightenment "created a framework and a language for
						understanding the gendered structures of society without which nineteenth-century
						feminism would not have been possible" (2).</note> were they to oppose me on 
						this subject.				
					</p>
				<p>But to return to the event which gave rise to this digression, 
				I should be very glad if I could inform the reader, and especially myself, by what means
			<pb n="10" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_011.png"/>
					these mice were entangled by, or fastened to, the tufts of hair, so as not be 
					enabled to disengage themselves, no not even when the creature shook himself 
					so violently, which, one would naturally think, was a circumstance in their 
					favour. However, since I am upon this subject, which at least is pleasing to 
					myself, and I think no <ref target="ignoble_" corresp="ignoble">ignoble</ref>
					<note xml:id="ignoble" target="ignoble_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					not honourable in character or purpose</note>contemplation for an ingenuous mind, 
					I will hazard my own <ref target="conjecture-noun_" corresp="conjecture-noun">conjecture</ref>
					<note xml:id="conjecture-noun" target="conjecture-noun_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">an unfounded opinion, guess, or surmise</note> 
					upon the occasion. As we know, by the assistance of the microscope, that the hairs 
					of animals are pervious, or hollow, and that they are pervaded by some kind of liquid 
					matter, for their growth and nourishment, perhaps that with which the hairs of this 
					animal are filled and nourished may be of a more extraordinary glutinous kind, and as the
			<pb n="11" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_012.png"/>
					tufts formed by the extremities of these hairs are pretty big, a large quantity 
					of this glutinous matter being lodged there, the nibbling of the mice breaking 
					the hairs, this glutinous matter may so fasten the hairs to the inside of their 
					mouths, as to render it exceeding difficult for them to disengage themselves, 
					at least soon enough to prevent their being devoured: and I think the shaking 
					of the animal must doubly contribute to their danger; because this motion 
					prevents them from fixing their feet against his body, which would assist 
					them in disengaging their mouths from the tufts, and being thus in a hanging 
					state, their fear may make them bite the tufts the closer, upon the motion of 
					the beast, and thereby
			<pb n="12 [page breaks after 'ren-']" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_013.png"/>
					render them a still easier victim: so that nature seems to have endowed him 
					with his artifice the more effectually to secure his prey.
					</p>
			</div> 
			<div type="chapter" n="2">
			<pb n="13" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_014.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. II.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">The Indians return to the island; she continues her instructions,
					and commands them to return weekly.</hi>
				</head>
			 
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">T</hi>HUS did I busy or amuse myself; and indeed I cannot
					imagine to myself any situation in which a thinking being, free from pain of
					body, and great anxiety of mind, cannot divert itself. I can always find
					something, from without or within myself, for my amusement. Often have I been
					diverted with watching the flights of a fly, or the excursions of a spider, till
					my mind has been so filled with the display of the infinite wisdom of the
			<pb n="14" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_015.png"/>Creator, in the formation of his works,
					as to elevate my mind to the most					
					<ref target="exalted_" corresp="exalted">exalted</ref>
					<note xml:id="exalted" target="exalted_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Raised to a high level of dignity or honor.
					</note>adoration. Nor does darkness deprive
					me of my mental amusements: in this state I can reflect on those things that I
					have seen, heard, or read of. The recollection of these sets my busy imagination
					at work, and I am pleased, nay, I am happy; and darkness has no horrors for me.				
					</p>
				<p>How miserable must those be who complain for want of amusement! How wretched such
					a state! What! want matter for thought? Can a thinking being, such as man is,
					say thus? Look round, is not all nature about thee teeming with subjects well
					adapted for thy contemplation, happily prepared for thy entertainment? But
					whither will my					
			<pb n="15" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_016.png"/>
					thoughts carry me? my province is not that of a philosopher, but historian. 
					And if my reader has travelled thus far with me, I doubt not but he is impatient 
					to hear again of my late visitors, perhaps more so than I was. 
					Nor do I wonder that events so extraordinary should attract his attention; 
					and if ever they should be published in any country, I doubt not but they 
					will soon be naturalized throughout <placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">
					Europe</placeName>, and in different languages, and in succeeding ages, 
					be the delight of the ingenious and inquisitive; and that some future bold 
					adventurer's imagination, lighted up by my torch, will form a 
					<ref target="desolate_" corresp="desolate">
					fictitious story of one of his own sex, the solitary inhabitant of a 
					desolate island</ref>
                    <note xml:id="desolate" target="desolate_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
                        <graphic url="notes/crusoe.jpg" alt="Engraving of Robinson Crusoe holding two muskets and a sword" source="https://imagesonline.bl.uk/asset/176967/" desc="Frontispiece illustration and title page for the 1719 publication       of The Life and Strange Surprizing Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, Of York.       Public domain image, British Library."/>
						This allusion to <hi rend="italic">Robinson Crusoe</hi>(1719) establishes 
						Daniel Defoe's castaway novel as inspiration for <hi rend="italic">
						The Female American</hi>. Though these tales are similar in content and fabrication, 
						<hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> ironically attempts to discredit its 
						precursor due to its fictitious storyline. To learn more about the parallels 
						between these two works, see Tremaine McDowell, "<ref target="http://www.jstor.org/stable/2920142">An American Robinson Crusoe</ref>" 
						<hi rend="italic">American Literature</hi> 1.3 (1929): 307-09.</note>.
						<ref target="footnote1_" corresp="footnote1">*</ref>
						<note xml:id="footnote1" target="footnote1_" type="authorial">
						[Note in original] Our authoress here seems to please herself, 
						with the thoughts of the immortality of her history, and to prophesy 
						of that of Robinson Crusoe, which only is inferior to her own, as fiction 
						is to truth.
						</note><!-- The footnote breaks between pages 15 and 16 in the source text.-->
					</p>
			<pb n="16" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_017.png"/>
				<p>Such imaginary scenes, like those of a play, may have a temporary effect, but not
            		permanent, like the real ones of mine.				
					</p>
				<p>At length the appointed morning came, against whose advent I took care to be
					ready placed within the statue. Having waited a short time, I saw only the seven
					priests advancing towards me. I wondered not to see them followed by any of
					their people, and thought it very odd. When they were come up pretty near, they
					<ref target="stopt_" corresp="stopt">stopt</ref>
					<note xml:id="stopt" target="stopt_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">stopped</note>, and having made their accustomed					
					<ref target="obeisances_" corresp="obeisances">obeisances</ref>, stood silent, I
					<note xml:id="obeisances" target="obeisances_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">gestures of respect, such as bows</note>
			<pb n="17" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_018.png"/>
					supposed waiting till I spoke. After I 	had reflected a little on this 
					occasion, I begun. "Why had none of the people attended you?"				
						</p>
					<p>
                    <ref target="high-priest_" corresp="high-priest">High-Priest.</ref>
					"It is our business to instruct the people, and if you will please
					to teach us, we will inform them accordingly."				
					</p>
				<note xml:id="high-priest" target="high-priest_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					Unca portrays herself as a woman with strong Anglican beliefs, 
					yet momentarily forfeits her belief system on the island when she finds the idol. 
					She begins manipulating the people around her through the influence of the idol, 
					and internalizes the mindset of its power. She utilizes lies, treasures, costumes 
					and deceit to reinforce her position as a god-like figure. Scarlet Bowen 
					explores this idea of manipulation, describing Unca Eliza's "theatrical efforts 
					to persuade the Indians" and comparing her to "an expert stage director." Bowen,					
					<ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/26564979">"Via Media: Transatlantic 
					Anglicanism in <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>."</ref>
					<hi rend="italic">The Eighteenth Century</hi>, 53.2 (2012): 189-207.</note>
				<p>Answer. "Why?"
					</p>
				<p>High-priest. "Because we live by teaching them, and if you only should teach them,
					they will not give us those good things which they now do."				
					</p>
				<p>Answer. "But I will not teach you only; I will teach them also. Nor
			<pb n="18" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_019.png"/>
					need you fear losing your subsistence. I will take care it shall be continued. 
					Hear me then, and if you fear me, observe my command. Let one of you go 
					and fetch some of the people; and let the rest of the priests wait here 
					till the others return."				
					</p>
				<p>The <ref target="peremptory_" corresp="peremptory">peremptory</ref> 
					manner in which I uttered these words, seemed to affect them much.
					<note xml:id="peremptory" target="peremptory_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">insisting on immediate attention or 
					obedience, leaving no room for refusal</note>
					manner in which I uttered these words, seemed to affect them much.
					They made their usual obeisances; and then the high priest answered, "that they
					were very ready to comply with my commands; but that it would rather take up too
					much time, to go back to their countrymen, and return again the same day, to
					make any convenient stay 
			<pb n="19 [page breaks after 'after-']" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_020.png"/>
					afterwards, to hear my instructions; but that if I pleased they would return
					home, and attend me, with some of the people, in the morning."				
					</p>
				<p>To this I agreed, and accordingly they immediately withdrew, having taken a
					respectful leave.				
					</p>
				<p>As soon as they were gone, I descended into my subterraneous apartments, took
					some refreshments, and spent the remainder of the day in providing some
					necessaries, and rambling about the island. The next morning, I took care early
					to place myself in the statue. Nor had I waited very long, before I perceived
					the priests coming forward, with a considerable number of the people with them.
					The					
			<pb n="20" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_021.png"/>
					usual ceremonies past, I began to discourse upon the nature and attributes of 
					the Deity, from what are usually called the	
					<ref target="natural-religion" corresp="natural-religion">principles of 
					natural religion</ref>
					<note xml:id="natural-religion" target="natural-religion" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/wilkins.jpg" alt="black-and-white painting of a man with long grey hair" source="https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/en/collection/object/Portret-van-John-Wilkins-bisschop-van-Chester--a637a58451ef97fbb0f52acbed485256" desc="Abraham Bloteling, 'Portret van John Wilkins, bisschop van Chester' ('Portrait of the very        Reverend John Wilkins, late Bishop of Chester'). Original from the Rijks Museum, reproduced under a       Creative Commons 1.0 license."/>
						Unca Eliza likely refers to the work of Anglican clergyman John Wilkins (1614-1672), 
						pictured at right. In <hi rend="italic">Of The Principles And Duties Of Natural Religion</hi> (1734), 
						<ref target="https://archive.org/details/ofprinciplesduti00wilk/page/n7/mode/2up">available via the Internet Archive</ref>, 
						Wilkins proposed that the matter and form of living things provide evidence of God's divine authority, an idea Unca Eliza 
						explores here.</note>
					; though I believe, strictly speaking, all religion 
					to be revealed. I stopt at every convenient pause, two or three minutes, that I might 
					not weary their attention, and give them opportunity to reflect, as it were step by step, 
					upon what I said.				
					</p>
				<p>As I was well acquainted with the manners of the Indians, I adapted my discourse
					to their own way of reasoning, and avoided all such terms, and modes of speech,
					as are intelligible only to Europeans. When I had discoursed near three hours in
					this manner, I desisted, desiring them to take some 
			<pb n="21 [page breaks after 're-']" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_022.png"/>
					refreshment, with which I saw they had provided themselves, and that afterwards
					I would call to them; and then the priests, or any of the people, might ask what
					questions they should please concerning what I had delivered. I ordered them to
					retire to some distance from where they were. This I did, that I might not be
					heard, as I intended to withdraw for a little time out of the statue, to take
					some refreshment myself.				
					</p>
				<p>As soon as I had taken my place as before, I called to my audience, who
					respectfully returned to their former station. I repeated the leave I had given
					to them, to ask any questions relative to my discourse. All the priests, in
					their turns, asked me
			<pb n="22 [page breaks after 'se-']" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_023.png"/>
					several pertinent and sensible questions; to which I replied as well as I was able 
					and I believe to their satisfaction. But observing that the laity still kept silence,
					I endeavoured to encourage them to propose their questions also, and was
					answered, by some, "We know nothing; our priests know all; teach our priests, and
					they will teach us." From this I concluded, that the priests had dealt in private
					with them, and had forbid their asking any questions, that they might preserve
					their superiority among them.				
					</p>
				<p>I therefore addressed myself to them with some sharpness, reminding them of what
					I had told them before, "that I would not teach them only;
			<pb n="23" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_024.png"/>
					but that I would teach the people also."
					</p>
				<p>Upon this the priests submissively bowed, and declared their readiness to obey my
					commands. I then proceeded, as well as I could, further to explain what I had
					delivered in the fore part of the day; and concluded with telling them, I should
					be ready to continue my instructions to them, for that I had much more to say,
					once a week, provided the priests would attend that day week, and so on, with as
					many of the people as should choose to come; but as the high-priest was very
					aged and infirm, he might come, or not, as he pleased. To this the
			<pb n="24" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_025.png"/>
					high-priest said he would conform. I then told them they might return home as
					soon as they pleased; and it was not long before they all quitted the island.				
					</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="3">
			<pb n="25" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_026.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. III.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Perplexed in what manner to act, she ascends the idol,
						addresses the Indians, and informs them, that a person shall come to
						instruct them in the knowledge of the true	
						<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">I</hi> Now once more found myself left to my little
					occupations, and to my own thoughts. I soon, and easily, fulfilled the demands
					of the former; but not so those of the latter. I had engaged in an affair that
					required the utmost attention, and not the smallest abilities. This latter
					reflection startled me. When an	
					<ref target="arduous_" corresp="arduous">arduous</ref>
					<note xml:id="arduous" target="arduous_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">hard to accomplish or achieve</note> 
					attempt? thought I, and was <ref target="abashed_" corresp="abashed">abashed;</ref>
					<note xml:id="abashed" target="abashed_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">uneasy, confused, embarrassed</note>
					would I had never engaged! but how can I 
			<pb n="26" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_027.png"/>
					<ref target="desist_" corresp="desist">desist</ref>? 
					<note xml:id="desist" target="desist_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">stop, delay, cease</note>
					This was as difficult to answer, as how to go on. As I knew something of
					the manner of the Indians, I did not doubt of their docibility; but I was very
					suspicious of the priests. I foresaw they would never easily suffer themselves
					to become useless to the people, and nothing less could be the consequence of my
					instructing them. And supposing this to be got over, how was I to proceed to
					continue teaching them from the statue, if I hoped to make any tolerable
					progress, as it would render their attendance more frequent than might be
					convenient to them? and in the wet season they could not come at all; and
					further, how could I, with any possible degree of comfort, continue to live
					under ground even in the summer? and in the winter I
			<pb n="27" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_028.png"/>
					should be entirely confined under ground.
					This last thought affected me so much, that I saw the absolute necessity of
					going to live among the	Indians, whatever my success in teaching, or reception,
					might prove. I determined to trust in providence for a discharge of the first;
					and no less to rely on its protection, as to my personal security. Though I had
					thus determined the part I was to take, there yet remained a great difficulty,
					how to introduce myself among them. They might at present conceive of me as 
					more than mortal, reverence me, and pay an implicit faith to all my teachings;but
					how would their opinion of my change, when they should discover me to be a mere
					mortal, a destitute stranger, even needing their support! What 
			<pb n="28 [page breaks after 'creden-']" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_029.png"/> 
					credentials had I to support the novel doctrines that I was to introduce?
					How was I to combat old opinions, handed down from father to son, received with
					reverence, and, no doubt, maintained with 
					<ref target="obstinancy_" corresp="obstinancy">obstinancy</ref>? 
					<note xml:id="obstinancy" target="obstinancy_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">stubbornness, inflexibility</note>
					What advantage would not
					all these difficulties give the priests over me, among an ignorant and 
					<ref target="deluded_" corresp="deluded">deluded</ref>
					<note xml:id="deluded" target="deluded_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">deceived, beguiled, led away from truth</note>
					people? and what might not exasperated bigotry prompt them to? nay, I knew not,
					but they might even think it necessary and right to destroy one who should dare
					to deny the	
					<ref target="deity_" corresp="deity">deity</ref>
					<note xml:id="deity" target="deity_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">divine being, god</note>of the sun, 
					and expose the absurdity of their religion.
					</p>
				<p>These were discouraging reflections, and the more I considered them, the more I
					was intimidated; and I heartily repented that I had ever spoken to them,
			<pb n="29" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_030.png"/> and again was 
					<ref target="irresolute_" corresp="irresolute">irresolute</ref>
					<note xml:id="irresolute" target="irresolute_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">unresolved, undecided</note> as to going
					among them. Thus was I distracted whether I determined to stay, or go; to stay
					<ref target="attended_" corresp="attended">was attended with certain evils</ref>; 
					<note xml:id="attended" target="attended_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">would bring certain misfortune</note>
					to go, too probably, with very great ones. Miserable 
					<ref target="wretch_" corresp="wretch">wretch</ref>! 
					<note xml:id="wretch" target="wretch_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">person driven from their native country, 
					exile.</note>cried I, what shall I do? tears succeeded; and I could 
					think no more, with any coherence. As soon as I was a little composed, I 
					<ref target="recourse_" corresp="recourse">had recourse to</ref>
					<note xml:id="recourse" target="recourse_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">turned to</note> my usual consolation, prayer; 
					and now my mind was calm, I could view the difficulties before me without 
					terror, and distinguish between positive and real dangers.				
					</p>
				<p>I concluded to trust providence, in adopting that course, which, upon the most
					mature consideration, should appear to have the fewest difficulties, and the
					most advantages on its side. It	
			<pb n="30" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_031.png"/>
					was to go
					among the Indians; the manner thus; not to acquaint them in the least with my
					condition, that they might not conceive any prejudices against me on that
					account, and that by keeping them ignorant who I was, or how I came to them, I
					might preserve a superiority over them, sufficient to keep them in awe, and to
					excite their obedience: yet I determined to speak no untruth. Accordingly, when
					the day of their return arrived, and the priests, and a great many of the people
					were present before the statue, I thus addressed them:				
					</p>
				<p>
					<ref target="oracle_" corresp="oracle">Oracle</ref>. 
					<note xml:id="oracle" target="oracle_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">instrument or medium through which 
					the gods were supposed to speak or prophesy</note>"Be attentive, 
					and hear! You are a people ignorant of the knowledge of the true 
					and only <persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>, 
					who made heaven and earth,
			<pb n="31" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_032.png"/> 
					and every thing	<ref target="therein_" corresp="therein">therein</ref>; 
					<note xml:id="therein" target="therein_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					in that place</note>you are also ignorant of that worship, which 
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>
					expects from his creatures; and of that happiness, which he will 
					<ref target="bestow_" corresp="bestow">bestow</ref>
					<note xml:id="bestow" target="bestow_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">give as a gift, or present</note> 
					upon all those who worship him according to his holy	
					<ref target="will_" corresp="will">will</ref>.
					<note xml:id="will" target="will_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">intention</note>
					</p>
				<p>"This his holy will he hath revealed to many thousands of men and women like you,
					who live in other parts of the earth, and now you also may know his holy will
					and be happy.		
					</p>
				<p>"<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName> 
				hath been pleased to send into the world, from time to time, holy men, and
					sometimes women, to instruct mankind in the knowledge of him; and at last his
					son, to instruct them more fully.
					</p>
			<pb n="32" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_033.png"/>
				<p>"But forasmuch as mankind had by their great wickedness offended 
				<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>, of whom you
					are a part, he would have punished them with a very	
					<ref target="grievous_" corresp="grievous">grievous</ref>
					<note xml:id="grievous" target="grievous_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">severe</note> punishment; but his
					son, who loved them, came down upon earth and was made a man, and offered himself
					up a sacrifice to his father, that mankind might be forgiven, reconciled unto
					his father, and be made good people, by believing and doing as he taught them.				
					</p>
				<p>"He was, whilst upon earth, attended by certain persons, called his disciples, who
					wrote the history of his life. This history, with the writings of the holy men,
					who lived before his coming into the world, and the writings of his disciples,
			<pb n="33" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_034.png"/> 
					designed to teach all men, you shall have
					for your instruction.				
					</p>
				<p>"With respect to teaching you the holy religion of the son of 
				<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName> from this place,
					it will be too inconvenient to you to come here as often as necessary; and
					during the rainy seasons, every year, it will be impossible for you to come at
					all.			
					</p>
				<p>"Therefore, that you may not want that instruction, which is necessary to your
					happiness here, and after you are dead, you shall be taught in this manner.				
					</p>
				<p>"A person shall come to you, like yourselves, and that you may be the less fearful
					or suspicious, that					
			<pb n="34" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_035.png"/>
					person shall be a woman, who shall live among you as you do.			
					</p>
				<p>"She shall bring with her the holy writings I have been speaking of, and shall
					teach all of you, especially your priests, who shall instruct you after her
					departure, the knowledge of the true 
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>, and 
					the way to be happy for ever.
					</p>
				<p>"You must be sure to show the greatest respect to her, do every thing that she
					shall command you, never ask who she is, from 
					<ref target="whence_" corresp="whence">whence</ref>
					<note xml:id="whence" target="whence_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">where</note> she comes, or when, or
					whether she will leave you. Never 
					<ref target="hinder_" corresp="hinder">hinder</ref>
					<note xml:id="hinder" target="hinder_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">prevent</note> 
					her from coming to this island when she
					pleases, nor follow her	<ref target="hither_" corresp="hither">hither</ref>
					<note xml:id="hither" target="hither_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">here</note> without her leave. You must
			<pb n="35" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_036.png"/>
					all believe, and do as she shall instruct you, and never presume to come to 
					this island without her leave, or do any thing that she forbids.			
					</p>
				<p>"But I do not want to force her among you: if you do not choose she should come,
					speak, and she shall not come; and I will be 
					<ref target="dumb_" corresp="dumb">dumb</ref>
					<note xml:id="dumb" target="dumb_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">intentionally silent</note> for ever."
					</p>
				<p>Answer. "Let her come! let her come! let her come! and we will love and obey her."
					</p>
				<p>This was the cry of all, with a noise in my ears like that of thunder; whilst
					they showed every outward sign of joy. As soon as all were again silent, I once
					more addressed them.				
					</p>
			<pb n="36" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_037.png"/>
				<p>Oracle. "Hear me then, let as many of you as please come here three days hence,
					two hours after the sun is risen, and you will see her sitting upon these steps,
					<ref target="drest_" corresp="drest">drest</ref>
					<note xml:id="drest" target="drest_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">dressed</note>like the high-priest of the sun. 
					Receive her with great respect, and
					<ref target="conduct_" corresp="conduct">conduct</ref>
					<note xml:id="conduct" target="conduct_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">escort, guide</note>her to your 
					country, and remember all I have said."
					</p>
				<p>I now was silent, when the whole multitude shouted,
					</p>
				<p>Answer. "We will meet her! we will meet her!"
					</p>
				<p>This important business of the day being thus concluded, they all returned home,
					and left me not a little pleased at the happy 
					<ref target="expedient_" corresp="expedient">expedient</ref>
					<note xml:id="expedient" target="expedient_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">plan to attain a certain end</note>I had devised
			<pb n="37" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_038.png"/>
					to <ref target="procure-obtain_" corresp="procure-obtain">procure</ref>
					<note xml:id="procure-obtain" target="procure-obtain_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">obtain, acquire</note>myself a favourable 
					<ref target="retreat_" corresp="retreat">retreat</ref>
					<note xml:id="retreat" target="retreat_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					<graphic url="notes/retreat.jpg" alt="A man hanging grapes outside a hut in a tropical        island landscape" source="https://collections.britishart.yale.edu/catalog/tms:46335" desc="A print from Carington Bowles, 'Twelve Illustrations of Robinson Crusoe,' 1783.        Public domain image, Yale Center for British Art."/>
						Unca Eliza's use of the term 'retreat' 
						here may be a nod to Robinson Crusoe, who describes a section of the island 
						as his 'Summer Retreat.' This eighteenth-century illustration of Crusoe's 
						retreat is captioned with a quote from Defoe's novel: 'In this place also 
						I had my grapes growing, which I principally depended on for my Winter Store 
						of Raisins, and which I never fear to preserve very carefully.' Like Crusoe, 
						Unca Eliza finds unexpected abundance in her new home, fueling her faith 
						that God has a plan for her and will provide for her needs.</note> among 
						the Indians, and a high probability of success in my future teachings.
					</p>
				<p>It now only remained to prepare for my departure. The day before the return of
					the Indians I collected together all my clothes, and the few books that I had;
					but had no chest to put them in, having broken that when I tumbled it down from
					the rock. I considered how to supply this want, and at last concluded to tie
					them up as well as I could with twigs, having no cords. Having first chosen such
					things as I intended to make my appearance in, I wrapt my bundle up in one of 
					the priest's					
			<pb n="38" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_039.png"/>
					golden <ref target="vestments_" corresp="vestments">vestments</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="vestments" target="vestments_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">priestly robes; ceremonial garments</note>
					and put in two others. The last evening I spent in particular 
					prayers upon the <ref target="ensuing_" corresp="ensuing">ensuing</ref>
					<note xml:id="ensuing" target="ensuing_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">approaching</note> occasion.				
					</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="4">
			<pb n="39" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_040.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. IV.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Apparels herself in the richest manner, and waits the approach
						of the Indians; acquaints them she was sent by the oracle; presents them
						with rings, and partakes of a repast.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
                    <hi rend="dropcap">W</hi>HEN the expected morning came, I awoke by day-break,
					<ref target="drest_" corresp="drest">drest</ref>
					<note xml:id="drest" target="drest_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">dressed</note>
					myself in white, and, over all, put on the high-priest's 
					vestments that I had found upon my first searching of the subterraneous apartments. 
					These were a kind of <ref target="cassock_" corresp="cassock">cassock</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="cassock" target="cassock_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">ankle-length gown or cloak</note>
					or vest, formed of gold wire, or rather of small narrow plated
					gold, curiously folded, or twisted together, like net-work, which buttoned close
					with diamonds. Over	
			<pb n="40" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_041.png"/>
					this I put on, formed
					of the same materials, and in the same manner, a gown, sprinkled all over with
					precious stones, and here and there a large diamond. On my head I placed a crown
					of most exquisite make, richly beset with precious stones of various sizes and
					colours; one on the top particularly large, which emitted from all parts of it a
					light greater than that of either of my lamps. In my right hand I held a golden
					staff, or rod, with a small image of the sun on the top of it. On one of my
					fingers I wore the ring, and on each arm a rich bracelet, all which I found at
					the same time I discovered all these other things.				
					</p>
				<p>I had made myself a kind of wicker basket, which I filled with a great
			<pb n="41" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_042.png"/>
					number of gold rings, all from the same 
					<ref target="repository_" corresp="repository">repository</ref>
					<note xml:id="repository" target="repository_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">a place where things are stored for safekeeping</note> . When I first discovered all these treasures, 
					I then little thought they would ever prove of any real use to me. 
					Nor did I now thus adorn myself from pride; but I thought the 
					extraordinary appearance that they would give me, might 
					<ref target="procure_" corresp="procure">procure</ref>
					<note xml:id="procure" target="procure_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">cause or bring about</note> 
					me a more favourable reception. The rings I designed for presents.
					I should have mentioned that, besides the fine ring that I put on, when first I
					found the rings, I put one upon each of my fingers.				
					</p>
				<p>When I left my subterraneous dwelling, I not only bolted the door, but covered it
					over with earth. Being come to the statue I sat down on the highest step, in all
					my finery, the crown 
			<pb n="42" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_043.png"/>
					on my head, my staff in my right hand, and on my left stood my twig-basket; 
					at some distance lay my bundle, which, being wrapt up in one of the gold 
					vestments, glittered as the sun shone very bright.				
					</p>
				<p>Thus I sat, with my bow and arrows hung over my shoulders, waiting for the
					important interview, my mind not a little agitated between hope and fear.
					However, I very solemnly recommended myself and my 
					<ref target="undertaking_" corresp="undertaking">undertaking</ref>
					<note xml:id="undertaking" target="undertaking_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">project</note> to God; and then
					endeavoured to fortify my mind, so that on the approach of the Indians
					I might not discover the least symptom of fear; for I knew on this much
					depended.				
					</p>
			<pb n="43" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_044.png"/>
				<p>I had sat near an hour before they approached; but at last saw them advance in
					the same order as at their first coming. At the first sight of them my heart
					leapt, and every limb trembled, and for a moment I wished myself within my
					subterraneous habitation. But as they advanced slowly, I had time enough to
					recover myself, and, before they came near enough to distinguish my	
					<ref target="countenance1_" corresp="countenance1">countenance</ref>,
					<note xml:id="countenance1" target="countenance1_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">facial features or expression
					</note> I believe it was sufficiently steady.				
					</p>
				<p>As they came near, led by the high-priest and the others, they bowed almost to the
					ground at every step; I still kept my seat looking firmly at them. When they
					were come near enough to hold a conversation, they halted, and the priests and
					all the company, who were about					
			<pb n="44" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_045.png"/>
					two hundred, without any children,					
					<ref target="prostrated_" corresp="prostrated">prostrated</ref>
					<note xml:id="prostrated" target="prostrated_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">threw</note> themselves to the ground; I then
					arose, and extending my golden rod towards them said, "Arise."				
					</p>
				<p>They did so; when, observing that they held a profound silence, I thus addressed
					them, with as much <ref target="affability_" corresp="affability">affability</ref>
					<note xml:id="affability" target="affability_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">friendliness</note> 
					as I could; yet with an air of superiority.
					</p>
				<p>"I suppose you are come to invite me to reside in your country?"
				</p>
				<p>To this the high-priest answered, "Yes;" which was presently ecchoed throughout the
					whole multitude.				
					</p>
			<pb n="45" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_046.png"/>
				<p>I then desired the high-priest to sit down at my right hand, which he did, not
					without some mannerly reluctance; I then placed the other priests on the steps a
					little lower on the right and left hand.				
					</p>
				<p>sitting with the priests in this manner, I again addressed them:
					</p>
				<p>"I suppose most of you were here three days ago, and heard, or know, 
					what was then delivered from above," pointing up to the statue. 
					"In consequence of what was then promised you, and to
					which you who were then present agreed, I am come to live among you, at least
					for some time, and to instruct you; observe what was then enjoined you.				
					</p>
			<pb n="46" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_047.png"/>
				<p>"You must obey my commands, observe my instructions, never ask who I am, from
					whence I come, or whether, or when, I will leave you.			
					</p>
				<p>"Though if at any time you should desire me to quit your country, you may tell me
					so, and I will leave you. And further, you are never to oppose my coming here,
					as I shall do from time to time, nor any of you presume to follow me 
					<ref target="hither_" corresp="hither">hither</ref>
					<note xml:id="hither" target="hither_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">here</note>.
					</p>
				<p>"If you will faithfully observe these things, I will come and live with you,
					acquaint you with the holy books of God, instruct you in the knowledge of God,
					and in the ways of his religion; which will make you happy for ever."				
					</p>
			<pb n="47" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_048.png"/>
				<p>Here I paused; when the high-priest arose up with great 
				<ref target="reverence_" corresp="reverence">reverence</ref>,
					<note xml:id="reverence" target="reverence_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">respect</note> and having
					bowed three times, almost to the ground, said, "Holy woman, we heard, with great
					attention what the oracle said, and when we returned into our country we called,
					the next day, all our countrymen together, and told them every thing that the
					oracle had delivered. Our countrymen rejoiced to hear the good news, and all
					desire you will come and live among them; they will love you, obey all your
					commands, and will make you their queen, for our king is lately dead, and as he
					had no children, we have not as yet chosen a new king. Will you therefore go
					home with us, and be our queen?"				
					</p>
			<pb n="48" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_049.png"/>
				<p>Answer. "I thank you for your kind offer; but I will not be your queen, therefore
					you may choose whom you please. But, as you desire it, I will come and live
					among you, and will be only your instructor."				
					</p>
				<p>I had scarcely finished my answer, before the whole company made the greatest
					acclamations of joy, crying out,				
					</p>
				<p>"Come! Come! Come! and make us happy."
					</p>
				<p>I arose up, and, after their manner, made three respectful bows to them; which
					were returned with new acclamations of joy.				
					</p>
			<pb n="49" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_050.png"/>
				<p>As soon as all were silent again, I sat down, and taking out of my twig- basket
					two of the best rings, I presented them to the high-priest, and to each of the
					priests two others, near in goodness to those of the high-priest's; when,
					finding that I had a sufficient number of rings, I desired the people to come to
					me one by one, and I presented each with a ring, which they all received with
					great expressions of joy.				
					</p>
				<p>I soon found that they yet were confounded in their ideas about me, and conceived
					of me, as one more than mortal; for the high-priest, with great reverence, asked
					me if I ever ate and drank?				
					</p>
			<pb n="50" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_051.png"/>
				<p>I chearfully replied "Yes; and if you have brought any 
				<ref target="provisions_" corresp="provisions">provisions</ref>,
					<note xml:id="provisions" target="provisions_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">food and drink</note> I will eat and 
					drink with you." At this he seemed both pleased and surprised. He then called to
					some of the people, who came forwards, bringing a kind of wicker baskets. 
					The contents of them were dried fish, goats flesh, and other animal food, various
					kinds of fruit, dried corn, and a liquor like wine.				
					</p>
				<p>Before I began to eat, I stood up and said grace, at which they seemed much
					surprised. Then the priests and I took a comfortable 
					<ref target="repast_" corresp="repast">repast</ref>
					<note xml:id="repast" target="repast_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">meal</note> together; whilst the 
					people sat down, and did the same, we all observing a profound silence during
					the whole time. When we had finished, I again surprised them with 
			<pb n="51 [page breaks after 're-']" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_052.png"/>
					returning thanks, according to the manner of christians.				
					</p>
				<p>The high-priest, hearing me conclude with the name of 
				<persName type="lcnaf" key="n79084784">Jesus Christ</persName>, 
				asked me very submissively who he was? I answered the son of God, 
				of whom he had 	heard three days ago, that he had offered himself 
				up a sacrifice to his father, for mankind; therefore we ought to 
				praise God in his name, and in his name to ask for whatever it is 
				lawful for us to desire: but of this, added I, I shall speak to you
				more fully hereafter.
				</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="5">
			<pb n="52" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_053.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. V.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">She embarks with the Indians for their country;
						<ref target="expounds_" corresp="expounds">expounds</ref>
						<note xml:id="expounds" target="expounds_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">interprets, comments on,  
						explains</note> the scriptures to them, and 
						translates the Bible and Common Prayer into the
						Indian language. Visits her island.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">W</hi>HILST these things past, I considered, that as I was
					entering upon an affair of the utmost importance, it would by highly necessary
					to commence with prayer. I was indeed sensible that it would be, in a great
					measure, very unintelligible to the Indians, yet I could not be satisfied with
					the omission, and thought I might pray in such a manner as that they, at least,
					would understand that I was		
			<pb n="53" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_054.png"/>
					desiring <persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>
					 to do them good. I therefore stood up, and told them, 
					 I would pray to <persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName> to be
					good to them, and that they were all to kneel down, as I did. But that they
					might not think I prayed to the statue, I got up to the top of the steps, and
					there kneeled down, with my back to the statue, and my face towards the people;
					and endeavoured to level my language, as well as I could, to their
					understandings; whilst the whole
					<ref target="multitude_" corresp="multitude">multitude</ref>
					<note xml:id="multitude" target="multitude_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">large group of people</note>
					 showed great attention.				
					 </p>
				<p>As I could sing very well, having learnt whilst I was in
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, and had composed
					several hymns in the Indian language, as soon as I had done praying, I stood up
					and sung. It is not to be expressed how the whole multitude
			<pb n="54" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_055.png"/>were affected, showing every decent
					expression of joy. I now told them I was ready to attend them to their own
					country. On this they set up a shout of gladness. I desired that some body would
					carry my bundle. I then set out in company with all the priests, followed by the
					multitude to the sea-side, were I saw a great number of canoes. I entered into
					one of them, and immediately the whole company entered into theirs. During our
					little voyage, I could not help reflecting upon the bold undertaking in which I
					had engaged; nor was I without my fears. But in my heart recommending myself to
					<ref target="providence_" corresp="providence">providence</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="providence" target="providence_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">direction, guidance, or provision from God</note>
					I reassumed my courage, and fortified my mind.</p>
			<pb n="55" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_056.png"/>
				<p>When we approached the destined shore, it was covered with the natives, who, when
					I landed, respectively
					<ref target="prostrated_" corresp="prostrated">prostrated</ref>
					<note xml:id="prostrated" target="prostrated_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">threw oneself on the ground to show devotion</note> 
					themselves to the earth. I, in return, bowed my body to them. I observed 
					that they viewed my <ref target="addr ess_" corresp="address">address</ref>
					<note xml:id="address" target="address_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">speech given in front of people</note> with particular
					attention; whilst the priests conducted me to a little town full of small huts
					or cottages, into one of the best of which I was desired to enter. This, by the
					preparations that had been made, I supposed was designed for my residence. Here
					I found half a dozen Indian maids appointed to attend me, who, on my entrance,
					kneeled before me, till I ordered them to arise. These presented me with dried
					fish and flesh, fruits and flowers, and different liquors, as appeared from the
					look of them; for I took nothing					
			<pb n="56" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_057.png"/>but some
					fruit, of a kind, different from any I had seen upon my own island; for I was
					still on an island, though much larger. After I had been here some time, with
					the priests, I expressed my desire to be left alone, and that I should be glad
					to see the priests the next morning.				
					</p>
				<p>How greatly was my situation changed! From a solitary being, obliged to seek my
					food from day to day, I was attended by a whole nation,	
					<ref target="serve_" corresp="serve">all ready to serve me</ref>;
					<note xml:id="serve" target="serve_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					Unca Eliza's narration emphasizes the privilege her colonial hybridity allows 
					her on the island. Julia Kark Callander suggests that Unca Eliza becomes a 
					"native royal... at once representative of a community and set apart from it 
					(i.e., better than its other members)." Unca Eliza's cultural, ethnic, and national 
					hybridity mesh into a colonial hybridity that is both novel and contradictive, a 
					paradox that Callander notes is "quite American." "'Attended by a Whole
					Nation': The Americas in <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>."
					<hi rend="italic">1650-1850: Ideas, Aesthetics, and Inquiries in the Early Modern 
					Era</hi> 18 (2011): 129-149.</note> and no care upon me but how to 
					<ref target="discharge_" corresp="discharge">discharge</ref>
					<note xml:id="discharge" target="discharge_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">carry out a task</note> the important business 
					of an <ref target="apostle_" corresp="apostle">apostle</ref>
					<note xml:id="apostle" target="apostle_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					person who introduces Christianity in a region</note>, 
					<ref target="taken-upon-me_" corresp="taken-upon-me">
					which I had now taken upon me</ref>.
					<note xml:id="taken-upon-me" target="taken-upon-me_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					In calling herself an apostle, or a disciple of Christ, 
					Unca Eliza demonstrates a key difference between 
					<hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> (1767) and Daniel Defoe's 
					<hi rend="italic">Robinson Crusoe</hi>(1719). While Crusoe 
					finds his religion after he is stranded on the island, Unca Eliza has 
					always been well versed in Christianity and has "unwavering confidence 
					in religious knowledge," according to Jonahs Kneitly. See
					"<hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>and Its Liminal Spaces."
					<hi rend="italic">Studies in Religion and the Enlightenment</hi>3.1 2023) 
					28-40, <ref target="https://www.srejournal.org/2023/11/08/the-female-american      -and-its-liminal-spaces/">DOI:10.32655/srej.2023.3.1.3 2023</ref>
					</note>
					To this purpose, besides my daily instructing the priests in the knowledge of 
					Christianity, I once a week taught the people in public; who					
			<pb n="57" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_058.png"/>
					I found very ready, and tolerably capable, to receive my instructions.				
					</p>
				<p>As to the priests, I had expected much difficulty with them, and no little
					opposition; but was very agreeably 
					<ref target="surprized_" corresp="surprized">surprized</ref>
					<note xml:id="surprized" target="surprized_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">surprised</note>. They were very attentive, quick 
					of <ref target="apprehension_" corresp="apprehension">apprehension</ref>,
					<note xml:id="apprehension" target="apprehension_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">learning, understanding</note> fond of 
					instruction, and very ready to give me what assistance
					they could in teaching the people. The use I made of them was this; I mean the
					young priests, for the high priest was mostly confined at home, by the
					infirmities of his great age. The use, I say, I made of the young priests was to
					teach the children, and young people, the church of England's 
					<ref target="catechism_" corresp="catechism">catechism</ref>:
					<note xml:id="catechism" target="catechism_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">a book containing the basics of 
					Christianity, meant to be taught in question-and-answer format</note> for 
					as I had found a Common Prayer Book, among the few books that were in my 
			<pb n="58" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_059.png"/>chest, 
					<ref target="translation_" corresp="translation">I translated the 
					catechism into the Indian tongue</ref>
					<note xml:id="translation" target="translation_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					Scholars debate the significance of Unca Eliza translating Christian 
					religious texts for the Indigenous people of the island. Some emphasize her 
					role as a cross-cultural mediator, highlighting her ability to claim a level 
					of religious authority typically reserved for men at the time, and drawing 
					parallels between her character and the influential Presbyterian minister 
					Samson Occom (Mohegan). See, for example, Scarlet Bowen, "'Via Media': 
					Transatlantic Anglicanism in 'The Female American', 
					<hi rend="italic">The Eighteenth Century</hi>  53.2 (2012): 189-207,  
					<ref target="https://www.jstor.org/stable/41468177">jstor.org/stable/41468177</ref>.
					Others, like Katherine Whitcomb, point out that Unca Eliza's seemingly 
					flawless ability to understand any Indigenous language she encounters neglects 
					the linguistic diversity of Indigenous communities and "reduces the cultures 
					of different people to such a simplistic view that the reader cannot 
					differentiate one culture from the next." See "<ref target="http://pressbooks.pub/opentheoryhandbook/chapter/unca-eliza-as-hybrid-colonizer/">
					Unca Eliza as Hybrid Colonizer</ref>," in <hi rend="italic">The Student Theorist: An Open Handbook of
					Collective College Theory</hi>, Public Commons Publishing, 2018: 80.</note> 
					with a short and plain comment upon it; this I taught the priests to 
					read, who afterwards made the children get it by heart. And as I had 
					a Bible, I, at my leisure, translated that also, beginning with the plainest
					parts first, till I had finished the whole.				
					</p>
				<p>I from time to time read the Bible in public to them, and, as I was able,
					explained it. I cannot but say I found myself very happy, among these plain,
					illiterate, honest people. There was nothing that they could do to please me,
					but they did it; and often expressed their hope, of my never leav­ing them. I
					found the manner of introducing myself among them was highly serviceable to me:
					for though,	
			<pb n="59" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_060.png"/>
					in every respect, they could
					not but observe that I was like them; yet it was easy to discover, that they
					<ref target="conceived_" corresp="conceived">conceived me</ref>
					<note xml:id="conceived" target="conceived_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">perceived me as</note> 
					more than a mere mortal. However, I did not think it my duty, any
					more than my interest, to undeceive them, as this opinion secured to me that
					respect and authority which were necessary for me to preserve, in order to carry
					on the great work among them, in which I was engaged.				
					</p>
				<p>I sometimes amused myself in shooting with my bow and arrows, in which I exceeded
					any of them. But even this circumstance,
					<ref target="trifling_" corresp="trifling">trifling</ref>
					<note xml:id="trifling" target="trifling_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">unimportant</note> as it was, raised their
					opinion of me. In the summer season, I now and then went to visit my old island;
					but whenever I did so, I always ordered the Indians who
			<pb n="60" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_061.png"/>
					rowed me over, to wait with the canoe by
					the sea-side; or to return home and fetch me in the evening, whilst I roamed
					about at my own pleasure.				
					</p>
				<p>When the same time returned next year, at which season they used to visit the
					oracle, the priests asked me, in the name of the people, if they should go to
					visit the oracle. I answered by no means, for that they would never more hear
					any answers from it.				
					</p>
				<p>I passed near two years very agreeably among them; in which I not only finished
					the translation of the Bible, as well as that of the Catechism, but indeed of
					most of the					
					<ref target="prayer-book_" corresp="prayer-book">prayers in the Common Prayer-Book</ref>.
					<note xml:id="prayer-book" target="prayer-book_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/school.jpg" alt="A teacher at a raised desk        offers a gift to a standing student, with other students sitting on        benches reading and listening" source="https://digitalcollections.folger.edu/img1355" desc="A sixteenth-century title page and verso woodcut from        'A Catechism or Institution of Christian Religion,' Folger Shakespeare Library"/>
						<hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>, like its contemporary 
						<hi rend="italic">Robinson Crusoe</hi> (1719), 
						reflects the historical reality of Christian efforts that imposed 
						European literacy and religious practices on Indigenous populations.
						Unca Eliza's translations of the Bible and the Common Prayer Book 
						echo these real-world initiatives, which	
						<persName type="lcnaf" key="nr98009155">Catherine A. Breckus</persName> 
						and 
						<persName type="lcnaf" key="n78090340">W. Clark Gilpin</persName> 
						argues functioned as tools of colonial control, reshaping Indigenous 
						societies to fit European frameworks. See 
						<ref target="https://uncpress.org/book/9780807872130/american-christianities/">
							<hi rend="italic">American Christianities: A History of Dominance and 
							Diversity</hi>
                        </ref> (University of North Carolina Press, 2011).
							While the novel critiques the violence often associated with 
							missionary work, it still promotes a "myth of non-colonial conversion," 
							as Edward Simon highlights. Christianity is portrayed as a natural 
							extension of human reason. The idea that rational individual would willingly 
							convert upon encountering Christianity obscures the coercion that 
							often underpinned such conversions.  See Simon, 
						<ref target="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/00497878.2016.1225407">
						"Unca Eliza Winkfield and the Fantasy of Non-Colonial Conversion in 
							<hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>."</ref> 
							<hi rend="italic">Women's Studies</hi> 45.7 (2016): 649–59.</note>
					I also had made a great progress in instructing the people;					
			<pb n="61" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_062.png"/>whom I happily
					brought off from their
					<ref target="idolatry_" corresp="idolatry">idolatry</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="idolatry" target="idolatry_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">practice of worshipping idols, 
					especially in the derogatory sense of worshiping a false god</note>
					to the knowledge of the true 
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>, and to a
					tolerable idea of the christian religion. We now regularly observed the Lord's
					day, according to divine appointment. Though I had no right to administer the
					sacrament of the Lord's supper, yet I was well satisfied, that under the
					circumstances we were in, I might baptize. But I never did so, 
					till I was well satisfied that the party had a tolerable notion of 
					the christian religion, and earnestly desired to be baptized.				
					</p>
				<p>I could not help making one observation, and that a very just one. I remembered
					when I was in 
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, that I
					used to look into some of the
					<ref target="deistical_" corresp="deistical">deistical</ref>
					<note xml:id="deistical" target="deistical_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">of the nature of or pertaining to deists or 
					deism.</note>
					<ref target="deism_" corresp="deism">writers in my uncle's study</ref>. 
					<note xml:id="deism" target="deism_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/herbert.jpg" alt="A man lying on his side in a forest.In the background,        another man plays a lyre around armored horses." source="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Edward_Herbert_1st_Baron_       Herbert_of_Cherbury_by_Isaac_Oliver.jpg" desc="A painting of Lord Edward Herbert by Isaac Oliver, ca. 1613-1614,        via Wikimedia Commons."/>The writers that Unca Eliza remembers from her 
						uncle's study likely include Deists like <persName type="lcnaf" key="n80076162">Lord Edward Herbert</persName> (1583 - 1648, pictured), 
						<persName type="lcnaf" key="n83124580">Charles Blount</persName> (1562 - 1606), 
						<persName type="lcnaf" key="n50026834">Anthony Collins</persName> (1676-1729), and 
						<persName type="lcnaf" key="n50011845">Matthew Tindal</persName> (1657-1733), 
						who believed that God created the universe and then allowed it to operate 
						under natural law (<ref target="https://doi.org/10.1093/OED/2881489109">
						Oxford English Dictionary</ref>). Unca Eliza's familiarity with these writers 
						demonstrates to readers that, like the Deists, she believes that "religious 
						truth should be subject to the authority of human reason rather than divine 
						revelation.” See Darren Staloff, 
						"<ref target="https://nationalhumanitiescenter.org/tserve/eighteen/ekeyinfo/deism.htm">Deism 
							and the Founding of the United States</ref>" (2008).</note>
			<pb n="62" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_063.png"/>
					These writers laboured to prove, that Christianity was repugnant to plain 
					uncorrupted reason. Yet I found this assertion intirely false; for, 
					here a people, who had no other guide but their reason, no sooner heard 
					Christianity plainly and simply expounded to them, but they soon embraced it. 
					And I am fully persuaded that whenever any unprejudiced person tries the 
					religion of Christ by his reason, though he may find it in some measure above 
					his reason, he yet will not find it contrary to it, and that it is worthy of 
					his assenting to it.				
					</p>
				<p>But to continue my history. In the beginning of the third summer of my being
					here, not having been for a long time at my old island, on account
			<pb n="63" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_064.png"/>
					of the late rainy season, answerable to winter in					
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">Europe</placeName>, I ordered
					some Indians to row me thither, early in the morning. I told the Indians they
					might return back, and come again in the evening.				
					</p>
				<p>Every time I made this visit, I always went into my subterraneous apartments, to
					get some rings to distribute among the Indians. I suppose they wondered how I
					came by them, but never asked me. And, that they might have no suspicion that I
					brought them from the island, I never gave them any on my return to them; but
					always a few days before I intended a visit to my old habitation.				
					</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="6">
			<pb n="64" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_065.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. VI.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Lands on her island, ascends the idol, perceives two
						Europeans approach the statue, one of whom she finds to be her cousin, 
						speaks to them from the oracle, and after several interrogations 
						discovers herself.</hi>
				</head>
			 
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">A</hi>S soon then as I was landed I walked to the iron door,
					which I always left covered with earth, and					
					<ref target="fastened_" corresp="fastened">fastened</ref>
					<note xml:id="fastened" target="fastened_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">fortified, secured</note> after 
					me, as soon as I had struck a light. I commonly ascended 
					into the <ref target="oracular_" corresp="oracular">oracular</ref>
					<note xml:id="oracular" target="oracular_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">resembling divine authority or ancient oracles</note>
					statue, and used to sit there sometimes to view the island. I did so this time; 
					but how greatly was I surprised, when looking forward I saw some men advancing 
					towards me! I soon perceived that they were Europeans,
			<pb n="65" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_066.png"/>
					and, as well as I could <ref target="conjecture-verb_" corresp="conjecture-verb">
					conjecture</ref>
                    <note xml:id="conjecture-verb" target="conjecture-verb" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">guess, surmise</note>, at the distance they were 
					from me, Englishmen.
					</p>
				<p>I supposed that they belonged to some ship, that had either cast anchor off the
					island, upon some occasion, or other, or were shipwrecked; nay, thought I, they
					may be pirates. Whatever might be the cause of their landing, I had much to
					fear.				
					</p>
				<p>Indeed I was safe where I was; but how was I to get home? and to stay long in
					such a place I could not. My next fear was for the poor Indians, who would come
					in the evening, and not finding me by the shore, as usual, would no doubt come
					upon the island, in search of me, and be					
					<ref target="slave_" corresp="slave">taken for slaves</ref>.
					<note xml:id="slave" target="slave_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/slavery.jpg" alt="White colonizers wearing large  hats, vests, and trousers surround by        enslaved Indigenous people depicted wearing loincloths" source="https://nypl.getarchive.net/media/captive-indians-sold-into-slavery-005200" desc="'Captive Indians Sold Into Slavery,' ca. 1890.        Public domain image from the New York Public Library"/>
						Unca Eliza fears the Europeans could capture the Indigenous people of the island 
						and sell them into slavery. For more, see Anna Brickhouse, "The Indian Slave 
						Trade in Unca Eliza Winkfield's <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi>,"  
						<hi rend="italic">The Yearbook of English Studies</hi> 46 (2016): 115-26. 
						<ref target="https://doi.org/10.5699/yearenglstud.46.2016.0115">
						DOI: 10.5699/yearenglstud.46.2016.0115</ref>.</note>
			<pb n="66" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_067.png"/>
					Nor might the evil stop thus; their
					country might be discovered, and probably invaded, and numbers of the people be
					carried away into slavery, and other injuries committed. Thus did my busy
					imagination create, as in a moment, evils that happily never came into
					existence: for these strangers soon came forwards, as I supposed, to view the
					statue, and being come near enough to be heard, one of them said to another, "We
					have indeed found a strange thing; what can this huge statue be designed for?"				
					</p>
				<p>"I know not," replied one who stood by him, "nor can I take pleasure in any
					discovery in a place where, no doubt, my dear cousin was starved to death or
					devoured by beasts."				
					</p>
			<pb n="67" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_068.png"/>
				<p>These words, and the voice, alarmed me. "Sure," cried I within myself, 
					"he speaks of me, and it is my cousin Winkfield."				
					</p>
				<p>As he came nearer, I thought more certainly it was he. I listened attentively to
					their conversation, in hopes to hear something that might confirm my suspicion.
					They stood still, I suppose, to examined the statue, when as often as one of
					them spoke, I was the more confirmed, by hearing and seeing him, that it was my
					uncle's son. "But how," cried I, "should he come here? how know
					I was left on this island?"				
					</p>
				<p>These reflections destroyed my first suspicions, and my former fears began
			<pb n="68" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_069.png"/>
					to revive; when he who I supposed was my
					cousin, said, "Let us stand here no longer; but as this seems undoubtedly to be
					an uninhabited island, let us continue our search, and perhaps we may yet find
					the bones of my dear Unca Winkfield; and by burying them
					pay the last, and only, respect we can to her unhappy memory; for if some beast
					destroyed her, he hardly ate her bones."				
					</p>
				<p>I heard these last words, including my name, too distinctly any longer to doubt,
					whether the speaker was my cousin, or not, and perceiving the company, was
					walking away cried out, "Winkfield, stay!"				
					</p>
			<pb n="69" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_070.png"/>
				<p>At these words my cousin started violently, and turning round, as they all did,
					said to his companion, "surely, Charles, I was called!" "No doubt," replied his
					companion Charles, "but it must be some of our companions who called you; for
					this island is uninhabited: we have been over it enough to see its bounds."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield "No, Charles; it was too loud a voice to be human. Did not you hear
					it, gentlemen?" speaking to his company.				
					</p>
				<p>Company. "Yes, indeed; and it was like thunder."
					</p>
				<p>The joy of finding my cousin raised my spirits, and I was determined to indulge 
			<pb n="70" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_071.png"/>
					an adventure which promised much pleasure, and continued as follows.				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Sure it must be the spirit of my dear cousin! My father, who you
					know is far from being superstitious, has often said, he believes, that upon
					very important occasions, departed spirits are suffered to appear again: O that
					I could hear the voice again!"				
					</p>
				<p>Unca Winkfield. "Is your father alive?"
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Hark! it speaks again, like thunder! amazing!—shall I answer? Yes
					I will. I hope so, he was alive a few months ago."				
					</p>
			<pb n="71" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_072.png"/>
				<p>One of the company. "This is strange, indeed! But it may be dangerous to stay; you
					know not with whom you may be conversing, it may be an evil spirit, and may hurt
					us. I have heard of such; let us go."
					</p>
				<p>Another of the company. "I think the same; and never heard that any departed
					spirit, if it did return upon any particular occasion, spoke with a thundering
					voice as this. Besides, look at that statue, it brings to my mind the oracles
					that we read of in ancient history; and, to my appreension, the voice seemed to
					come from thence; and, perhaps, it may be true, as we have read, that devils
					speak from such kind of statues."
					</p>
			<pb n="72" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_073.png"/>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "You speak with reason; but, I think, I could be almost content to
					speak to the devil to hear news of my cousin."
					</p>
				<p>Charles. "Fie, talk not so; let us commit ourselves to God, and wait a little to
					hear if it will speak again, and listen if the sound comes really from the
					statue; but do not speak any more to it."
					</p>
				<p>I could not help being much diverted at their fears; but unwilling yet to
					discover myself, I however determined to dissipate their terrors; and beginning
					a midnight hymn of my uncle's composing, which my cousin had set notes to, and
					taught me to sing, they started when I begun; but as
			<pb n="73" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_074.png"/>
					soon as my cousin distinguished the tune, and understood the words, he was calm, 
					and made a motion to the company to be silent, and when I had done, said,				
					</p>
				<p>"An evil spirit would not sing such holy words. My father composed them, and I
					taught my cousin to sing them."				
					</p>
				<p>One of the company. "Thus is not to be accounted for; yet we read that Satan can transform
					himself into an angel of light."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. Away! I have no fears; I will speak to it.—Does my cousin
					Unca live?"
					</p>
			<pb n="74" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_075.png"/>
				<p>Unca. "She lives, and is happy."
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Perhaps, in heaven."
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "No; she lives upon earth."
				</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Shall I ever see her?"
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "You may."
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "But when and where?"
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "Here; and that soon too."
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Let me see her then."
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "You shall, if you will do one thing."
					</p>
			<pb n="75" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_076.png"/>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "I will do any thing that"—
					</p>
				<p>Charles. "Stop, be not rash; ask what you are to do before you promise. I am myself
					not without my suspicions."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "I was going to say, I would do any thing not unworthy of a
					christian."				
					</p>
				<p>Charles. "I am satisfied."
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "If I may see my cousin I will do any thing not unworthy of a
					christian."				
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "What I shall require is worthy of a christian"
					</p>
			<pb n="76" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_077.png"/>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Propose it then."</p>
				<p>Unca. "It is only to continue all of you where you are, 
					and do you sing your favourite hymn, and before you have 
					done you shall see, It begins, "Whilst thus the sun illumes our sphere, 
					And bids the earth bring forth, O spirit, 
					<ref target="deign_" corresp="deign">deign in me</ref>
					<note xml:id="deign" target="deign_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					find me worthy</note> to rear Fruits of superior worth."
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "I will do it—But who, or what, Charles, can this invisible being be,
					who seems thus intimately to know me?"				
					</p>
				<p>Charles. "I know not—but its request is innocent and <ref target="piety_" corresp="piety">pious</ref>
					<note xml:id="piety" target="piety_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">displaying piety; showing reverence or obedience to God</note>; 
					therefore begin."</p>
			<pb n="77" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_078.png"/>
				<p>As this hymn was a pretty long one, I knew it would give me sufficient time to
					carry my design into execution; which was to go out of my 
					<ref target="subterraneous_" corresp="subterraneous">subterraneous</ref>
					<note xml:id="subterraneous" target="subterraneous_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">underground</note>passage,
					<ref target="drest_" corresp="drest">drest</ref>
					<note xml:id="drest" target="drest_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">dressed</note>in my priestly 
					habits, and with my staff and crown; for in this manner I always came upon these 
					<ref target="insular_" corresp="insular">insular</ref>
					<note xml:id="insular" target="insular_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">pertaining to or located on an island</note> 
					visits. As they stood, it would be impossible for
					them to see me ascend from the earth. I pleased myself much with the 			
					<ref target="surprize_" corresp="surprize">surprize</ref>
					<note xml:id="surprize" target="surprize_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">surprise</note> they would be in, to see me in 
					a dress of which they could form no expectation, nor conceive the meaning of. 
					I must mention one circumstance more, which contributed not a little to 
					surprise them.
					</p>
				<p>I had found among my clothes a small parcel of brass wire, which I had to mend my
					cages, in which I was					
			<pb n="78" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_079.png"/>carrying over some
					curious birds to <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>. After
					I came to live among the Indians, I made a strange kind of musical instrument. 
					It was a long narrow box, made of thin wood, with holes cut in it, and several
					pieces of brass wire, placed in a particular manner. This I used to place in a
					tree, and when the wind blew properly upon it, it would send out certain soft
					pleasant notes.					
					<ref target="footnote2_" corresp="footnote2">*</ref>
					<note xml:id="footnote2" target="footnote2_" type="authorial">
					[Note in original] By this description, and the use to which she applied her
					invention, it seems to have been of the same kind with that we now call Æolus's
					harp.					
					</note>
				</p>
				<p>I had a mind to try what effect it would have in the statue. I found out a method
					to fix it, opposite to the mouth, withinside of the statue, and when the
			<pb n="79" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_080.png"/>wind sat right to blow into it, the sounds
					were very delightful, and might be heard I believe almost over the whole island.
					After I had made this discovery I always brought it with me, and placed it in
					the statue, and, if the wind stood properly, I was greatly entertained with its
					<ref target="melodious_" corresp="melodious">melodious</ref>
					<note xml:id="melodious" target="melodious_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">having a melody; tuneful</note>
					sounds, as I walked up and down.
					</p>
				<p>As I found the wind sat full against the statue, I placed the instrument before
					it, and heard it play with a loudness that I could not have borne long. This no
					doubt could not but give my visitors a new alarm; yet, from the nature of it,
					was less terrifying than my speaking had been, with such a magnifying voice, as
					the mechanism of the statue occasioned: and indeed they
			<pb n="80" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_081.png"/>
					were greatly alarmed, which gave birth to the following dialogue, just as my 
					cousin began to sing, as I was afterwards informed.				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Ha! how sweet, but strange are these sounds!"</p>
				<p>Company. "Astonishing beyond conception!"</p>
				<p>One of the company. "This can be no human artifice; the loudness of it 
				exceeds the power of art. I wish we were safe aboard our ships. I never was
				<ref target="credulous_" corresp="credulous">credulous</ref>; 
					<note xml:id="credulous" target="credulous_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">too willing to believe; gullible</note>
					but henceforth I shall believe every fairy tale, if I escape this 
					adventure; which I much fear."
					</p>
			<pb n="81" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_082.png"/>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Let us be men, at least, and reflect that we are come in an honest
					cause. I own these appearances are very extraordinary: but they may	
					<ref target="portend_" corresp="portend">portend</ref>
					<note xml:id="portend" target="portend_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">fortell by supernatural means</note> good
					as well as evil. Must every supernatural event terminate in evil? Why may not
					the interruption of the usual course of things be as well for good as hurt?"				
					</p>
				<p>Charles. "True—Let us construe the omen in our favour, and be composed, and let
					Mr. Winkfield sing the hymn he promised."				
					</p>
				<p>Their conversation was so earnest, that they did not perceive me advancing,
					taking a slope till I got behind them, though at some distance, just
			<pb n="82" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_083.png"/>
					as my cousin began his hymn. I stood
					still till he had done, in hopes they would see me before I walked up quite
					close to them; for I was afraid of alarming them too much. As soon as as my
					cousin had finished his hymn, and all, looking at the statue, had stood silent
					some minutes, my cousin exclaimed,				
					</p>
				<p>"I have sung the hymn, but where is 
				<persName type="lcnaf" key="n84027119">Unca</persName>?"</p>
				<p>As he said these words, I moved gently towards the left, and then walked
					forwards, till I came upon a line with them. The 
					<ref target="musick_" corresp="musick">musick</ref>
					<note xml:id="musick" target="musick_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">music</note> still sounding, I then
					stopped, holding my staff so that the image of the sun, on the top of it,
					prevented a full view of my face. 					
			<pb n="83" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_084.png"/>
					Presently, he who was called Charles saw me; when starting, aside he cried,				
					</p>
				<p>"Bless me! what is that?"
				</p>
				<p>Upon this all turned and saw me, to their great surprize. They stood still and
					silent like mutes. I now bowed my staff as saluting them, and exposed my face to
					their full view, not very far from them, when my cousin, in his turn, 
					exclaimed,				
					</p>
				<p>"It is my cousin's face! but can it be her?"
				</p>
				<p>Unca. "It is."
				</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "And living too?"
				</p>
			<pb n="84" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_085.png"/>
				<p>Unca. "Yes, cousin, and living too; and smiling, added, 
				but have you forgot all your
					<ref target="gallantry_" corresp="gallantry">gallantry</ref>,
					<note xml:id="gallantry" target="gallantry_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">polite display of attention</note>
				  and must I make the first advance?"				
				 </p>
				<p>Having said this, I began, slowly, to step forward, when one of the company cried
					out,				
					</p>
				<p>"Nay, if you all have a mind to stay till the devil comes to you, I will not; and
					ran away as fast as he could."				
					</p>
				<p>I still kept slowly moving on, whilst my cousin, and the rest, stood amazed, half
					leaning back, as if in doubt whether to stay or run after their companion. Their
					great amazement confounded me. I was at a loss what to say
			<pb n="85" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_086.png"/>
					or do. I stopt short, and all of us stood
					silently gazing, them at me, and I at them. At last recovering from the
					confusion their great surprize had thrown me into, I addressed my cousin in
					these words:				
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "Dear Cousin Winkfield, be not so much alarmed, 
				I am really your cousin <persName type="lcnaf" key="n84027119">Unca Eliza 
				Winkfield</persName>."
				</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "You indeed appear to be such; but the strange things which I
				 	have seen and heard to-day, and your no less extraordinary appearance, scarce
					leave me sufficiently master of my senses to form a right judgment of what I see
					and hear."				
					</p>
			<pb n="86" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_087.png"/>
				<p>By this time I was got close up to him, for he stood like a statue, and giving my
					hand said,				
					</p>
				<p>"Cousin Winkfield, be composed, and satisfied, that 
				it is your cousin Unca who speaks to you."
				</p>
				<p>He then took me in his arms, embraced and kissed me, 
				and as soon as his transports, at finding me, a little subsided he said,				
					</p>
				<p>"But, pray my dear Unca, what mean the huge statue; 
				the monstrous voice, loud like thunder, that talked to me and sung; 
				this loud musick, which I still hear; the strange rich dress I see you in, and
			<pb n="87" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_088.png"/>
					how have you <ref target="subsisted_" corresp="subsisted">subsisted</ref>
					<note xml:id="subsisted" target="subsisted_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">survived</note> in this strange 
					uninhabited place? or say whether it is not the abode of invisible 
					spirits, who have wrought the wonderful things I have heard, and 
					whether they have not been your guardians? and whether—"
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "Stop, dear cousin; you have asked too many questions, 
				and such as cannot be answered in a hurry: and I have, on my part, 
				my questions to ask you, for your appearance here is very surprizing 
				to me. How you should know of my being here is what I cannot 
				conjecture. But of these things we will talk together at our 
				leisure, when you are more composed."
				</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="7">
			<pb n="88" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_089.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. VII.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">One of the company, terrified at Unca's appearance, runs to
						the ship, and makes such a report to the crew, that they refuse to take them
						on board.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
                    <hi rend="dropcap">B</hi>Y this time the company, being pretty well satisfied that I
					was a mortal, which at first they doubted of, came up to us, and wished us joy
					on our unexpected happy meeting. We thanked them, and I assured them, they need
					not be under any uneasiness; for that they were perfectly safe where they were:
					for however extraordinary what they had heard and seen might appear to them, the
					whole was the effect only of natural causes. They were too
			<pb n="89" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_090.png"/>
					mannerly to contradict what I said; but I
					could easily perceive that they did not believe me. However, I left them to
					their suspicions for that time.				
					</p>
				<p>My cousin now briefly informed me, that one of the gentlemen in company, whom he
					called Captain Shore, the very day I was left on this island, took my ship and
					the captain of it prisoner; and had sent him to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> to be tried: that
					Captain Shore, coming to 
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>,
					at my cousin's request, consented to bring him over in search of me; as he
					thought, from the account that the captain had given him, he could find the
					island, as he happily had. He added, the ship now lies at anchor, on the part of
					the island				
			<pb n="90" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_091.png"/>
					behind the statue, or whatever it is, and if you please I will conduct you on board; 
					for by this time they will 	expect us to dinner, and I reckon are not a little uneasy 
					about what may have befallen us; for I suppose our companion has made a dreadful report.				
					</p>
				<p>I answered that I was entirely at his disposal for a few hours. "For a few
					hours!" returned he briskly, "why, must my dear Unca 
					and I ever part again? You talk strangely; and once more make me almost doubt the
					reality of what I see and hear."				
					</p>
				<p>"Yes, we must part for a little," answered I, "but I will soon satisfy					
			<pb n="91" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_092.png"/>
					you on that head. But let us pass on; I attend you."				
					</p>
				<p>As we walked along I told him, that I had come over on a visit to the island that
					morning, and that at night I was obliged to return back to the island on which I
					had lived above two years; or otherwise my friends there would be under great
					uneasiness at my absence. Thus we went on talking, till we came to the shore,
					when my cousin was greatly surprised at not seeing the boat.				
					</p>
				<p>"I ordered the boat," said he, "to wait for me here; and though Mr. Lock in his
					fright might take it to go on board, he should have sent it back, and there has
					been time enough for its return."				
					</p>
			<pb n="92" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_093.png"/>
				<p>Upon which Captain Shore took a glass out of his pocket to look at the ship,
					which rode at anchor, some distance off. "Bless me," said he of a sudden, "what do
					I see! they are preparing to set sail. Sure the crew have not mutinied." He then
					called to them as loud as he could, and waved his handkerchief. He then said,
					"they made a signal that they see me." In a little time after he saw the boat
					coming. It soon appeared; but as it came near to the shore, the sailors it seems
					heard the musick from the statue, as the wind blew 
					directly off from the island; this, together with my					
					<ref target="tawny_" corresp="tawny">tawny complection</ref>
					<note xml:id="tawny" target="tawny_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">tan or dark skin</note>, 
					and strange dress, so terrified them, that they stopped rowing, 
					and would come no nearer; when one of the sailors said,				
					</p>
			<pb n="93" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_094.png"/>
				<p>"Mr. Lock said right, this is certainly some inchanted island, and I would not row
					a stroke nearer if it was for the king."				
					</p>
				<p>second sailor. "Nor I; for I hear the devil's bagpipes playing as loud as thunder."
				</p>
				<p>Third sailor. "Aye; and don't you see that she-devil there 
				<ref target="wrapt_" corresp="wrapt">wrapt</ref>
					<note xml:id="wrapt" target="wrapt_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">covered</note>in gold?"
					</p>
				<p>Fourth sailor. "I suppose she is the devil's wife, and this is their wedding-day,
					which makes her so fine and have so much musick."				
					</p>
				<p>Fifth sailor. "I don't fear all the devils in hell, for I am a good 
			<pb n="94 [page breaks after 'ca-']" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_095.png"/>
					catholic; I have crossed myself, and prayed to
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="n80104029">St. Patrick</persName>. 
					But the devil shan't catch me ashore for all that."
					</p>
				<p>Sixth sailor. "I wish though I had her devilship's gold crown and gown, I would go
					no more to sea."				
					</p>
				<p>Fifth sailor. "You fool, if you had them in your hand, they would all turn to dust."
				</p>
				<p>We were obliged to hear this strange dialogue before captain Shore could put in
					a word. At last, with much ado, he made them hear him; but neither threats nor
					fair words could prevail upon them to come nearer the shore, whilst I stayed
					there. One of them said, that Mr.					
			<pb n="95" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_096.png"/>
					Lock came on board in a terrible fright, and said, he had seen a monster as tall as
					the moon, that it talked and sung louder than thunder, and that if he had not
					run away, a she-devil would have run away with him; and as one of our men was
					rowing him back, they said, they saw a hundred devils fly away with you all into
					the air, whilst they saw a great devil playing upon the bag-pipes, and he said,
					that for that matter he played much better than ever he heard a	scotchman in his life.				
					</p>
				<p>We therefore called a council, and had agreed to sail directly, if captain
					Shore had not called to us.				
					</p>
			<pb n="96" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_097.png"/>
				<p>As soon as the sailor had done talking, I told my cousin that I would leave them,
					that they might go on board their ship, and try to undeceive the crew, and that
					I would meet him the next morning at the steps. My cousin was much concerned at
					this unexpected sudden separation; but it appeared absolutely necessary, and
					there was no time for deliberation; for the men threatened every moment to row
					back to the ship.				
					</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="8">
			<pb n="97" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_098.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. VIII.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Mr. Winkfield left on shore; and after relating what passed
						between him and the ship's company, Unca and he retire in the evening to the
						other island.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">T</hi>HUS I left them, lamenting my own folly for not having
					discovered myself in a less alarming manner. As soon as I was got out of sight,
					the sailors set up a shout of joy, whilst I pensively walked on to my
					subterraneous apartments. I hastened up into the statue, to remove the occasion,
					which had had no little effect in the late unlucky incident. Here I sat musing
					on what might be the consequences of this					
			<pb n="98" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_099.png"/>
					affair. They may perhaps, cried I, murder my cousin, or force him to return back
					immediately, and not suffer him to go aboard again; or, if they do, may fail
					away, and take him with them. Better had it been never to have seen him again,
					than thus to prove the occasion of his death, or of new 
					<ref target="vexation_" corresp="vexation">vexation</ref>
					<note xml:id="vexation" target="vexation_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">trouble, distress</note> to myself. I
					might have concluded my life with ease and pleasure among the Indians; but if I
					see him no more, I shall have laid a fresh cause for uneasiness as long as I
					live, and drag out the remainder of my life in misery; a burden to myself, and
					useless to all around me. What, continued I, is human life? As a wave destroys
					in a moment the wave that preceded it, so often does the arising moment the joys
					of the last; never more to return.					
			<pb n="99" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_100.png"/>
					Thus destroyed, perhaps, is all my past happiness! The sun, which in the morning 
					saw me happy, now beholds me mourning; shedding tears which perhaps must flow, till
					death stops the current. Nor shall mine flow alone; an aged father, with his
					afflicted consort, may mourn a lost son, and curse the hour in which they first
					knew me, the unhappy means of bringing their gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.				
					</p>
				<p>I had taken no refreshment, since I came upon the island, in the morning; and my
					grief was too great to let me think of any, till at last, fatigued with weeping
					and fasting, I grew faint. I then thought I would leave the place, and take some
					refreshment; but not till I had sought comfort of him who
			<pb n="100" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_101.png"/>
					only can give it. Now finding my mind
					more composed, and having determined to banish every anxious thought, till I saw
					what the returning day might produce (for I purposed to come again the next
					morning) I made haste to get above ground.				
					</p>
				<p>I did so, and was walking to the place where I had put some provisions, till I
					might want them, when I found part of the evils that my mind foreboded but too
					true; for who should I see walking solitarily along towards the statue, but my
					poor cousin! He did not see me till I called to him.				
					</p>
				<p>"Cousin Winkfield, said I, what have my fears proved true? will they not receive
					you on board?"				
					</p>
			<pb n="101" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_102.png"/>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "No; but be not alarmed, my dear Unca,
				     captain Shore will soon be here again, and if, in the mean time, 
					 I can be with you I shall be happy."				
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "But will not your father and mother be alarmed at your delay?"				
					 </p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "They will not: for as I supposed it would be uncertain how long I
					might be searching for you, if I ever found you, I desired two years absence."
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "I am so far satisfied. But relate what happened after I left 
				you on the shore."				
					 </p>
			<pb n="102" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_103.png"/>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "As soon as you had left us, the sailors waited till you was got
					out of sight, and then set up a great shout, which possibly you heard."
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "I did hear it, and from that moment was filled with fears, lest 
					they should murder you, or leave you on shore, as they have done."
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Weep not for me, my dear Unca, for to live with you I should be 
					contented if he never returns."
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "I feel the tenderness of your expression. But my manner of living, length 
					of time hath rendered agreeable to me; but it would be
			<pb n="103" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_104.png"/>
					very disgusting to you. Rather may you soon return to your native country, be 
					happy and leave me"—
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "Stop, dear cousin! nor talk of leaving you; I never can, nor"―
					</p>
				<p>	Unca. "Hold, this is the language of a lover, ill suited to the present 
					time and circumstances. The day wears away <ref target="apace_" corresp="apace">apace</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="apace" target="apace_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">quickly, promptly</note>
					and I must soon leave this island. Let us consider how you are to
					be disposed of. 
					<ref target="interim_" corresp="interim">In the interim</ref>
					<note xml:id="interim" target="interim_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">in the meantime</note>, 
					will you partake of such mean fare as I have here? 
					for, I suppose, you have had no refreshment since morning any more than myself."
					</p>
				<p>We then walked to where I had stored my provisions, and there sat
			<pb n="104" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_105.png"/>
					down to our repast. I now desired him to continue his relation.				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "I said the sailors shouted when you were out of sight, and instead
					of rowing up to us, as we expected, boldly told the captain, that they had sworn
					before they set out, not to bring me on board; being determined never to sail in
					company with, a man, who, as Mr. Locke told them, had talked and sang songs with
					the devil: and had it not been for us, you know, captain, said one of them, he
					would have brought a she-devil on board with him, and as soon as she was on
					board, to besure captain, she would have sunk the ship, and flown away with us
					all—No, no, good captain, we are bad enough, indeed; but we won't
			<pb n="105" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_106.png"/>
					keep the devil company neither; nor any
					of his <ref target="cronies_" corresp="cronies">cronies</ref>. 
					<note xml:id="cronies" target="cronies_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">intimate friends or associates</note>
					He may go after her devilship if he pleases, if he can catch
					her; for I saw her fly into the air. Did not you, Jack?"				
					</p>
				<p>Jack. "Yes, that I did. And she has left a terrible stink of 
				<ref target="brimstone_" corresp="brimstone">brimstone</ref>
					<note xml:id="brimstone" target="brimstone_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">sulfur</note> behind.
					Don't you all smell it?"				
					</p>
				<p>All. "Smell it! aye to be sure; do you think we have no noses?"
					</p>
				<p>Captain Shore was in a great passion. He told them "they were 
				<ref target="mutineer_" corresp="mutineer">mutineers</ref>
					<note xml:id="mutineer" target="mutineer_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">sailors who revolt against or openly resist 
					the captain's authority</note>, and, he
					supposed, wanted to run away with the ship." To this they replied,				
					</p>
			<pb n="106" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_107.png"/>
				<p>"No, no, captain, though we don't like the devil's company, we are honest fellows;
					 we don't want to run away with the ship; that would be going to the devil
					 another way, and I warrant he would trim us for using his lady so ill. You are
					 our captain, and we will take you on board, if you please; but Mr. Winkfield is
					 only a passenger, and we are not obliged to take him."				
					 </p>
				<p>Finding there was no good to be done with them, I whispered the captain that I
					would stay on shore all night, at all events; but desired he would come to me in
					the morning, and let me know if he had brought them to reason. However, as I had
					not					
			<pb n="107" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_108.png"/>
					spoken to the sailors, I was willing to try what I could do with them. 
					"Gentlemen," said I, "you are really under a
					great mistake; that genwoman, whom you call a she-devil, is my cousin she was
					three years ago left upon this island by a rogue of a captain, who ran away with
					her ship."				
					</p>
				<p>Sailor. "Well, sir, if she is not a devil, I suppose she is a witch, and that is
					as bad; and that made the captain set her on shore. And pray was that tall
					monster who sung and played upon the bag-pipes your cousin too? You know, sir,
					we heard him play ourselves, and the devil could not play louder."				
					</p>
			<pb n="108" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_109.png"/>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "I was confounded at this question, not knowing myself how to
					account for what I had heard. They saw my confusion, and laughed: I therefore
					once more told the captain I would leave them, and hoped to see him in the
					morning. so we shook hands, and parted; he looking at me with great concern. I
					remembered you said, you should not leave this place till night. I was therefore
					walking up to the statue, in order to wait there some time, in hopes of seeing
					you thereabouts; if not, I intended walking up and down in quest of you: but as
					I was going thither, I had the pleasure of hearing you call me."				
					</p>
			<pb n="109" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_110.png"/>
				<p>Unca. "I am very glad you found me so soon, for the sun is declining apace; 
					and if you had	missed me you would have passed an uneasy night. For though there 
					is here nothing to hurt you, you could not know that. But as we have done eating, 
					let us go down to the seaside, where a canoe will soon be ready to carry us where 
					you shall pass the night in safety. In the morning we will return here, and I hope 
					we shall see the captain, and hear that matters are made up on board. And as I 
					suppose you are impatient to know that had happened to me since I was put upon this 
					island, and to know the meaning of the extraordinary things that you have seen and 
					heard, I will inform you as we go along."					
					</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="9">
			<pb n="110" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_111.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. IX.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">They return in the morning to see whether the captain had brought 
					the crew to obedience; but find they had forced him to sail back to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">Europe</placeName>.
					</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
					<hi rend="dropcap">W</hi>E now walked down to the seaside, where two Indians
					waited with my canoe. They seemed surprised at the appearance of a stranger,
					especially of a white man, as having never seen one before. I quickly spoke
					<ref target="chearfully_" corresp="chearfully">chearfully</ref>
					<note xml:id="chearfully" target="chearfully_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">cheerfully</note>, and told them, that he
					was a relation of mine, who was come to see me. They seemed very well 
					satisfied, and asked no questions, as they were used to pay 
					<ref target="regard_" corresp="regard">an implicit regard 
					to everything I said.</ref>
					<note xml:id="regard" target="regard_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Unca's assertion that the Indigenous people do not 
					question the authority of<placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">Europeans</placeName> 
					aligns with eighteenth-century imperialist ideologies, which framed Indigenous people 
					as submissive to conversion efforts. 
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="n83038857">Michael Sievernich</persName> 
					discusses the state-supported Christian missions in the eighteenth century which 
					destroyed Indigenous traditions and reinforced colonial dominance under the guise 
					of religious salvation. "<ref target="https://www.ieg-ego.eu/sievernichm-2011-en">Christian 
					Mission</ref>," <hi rend="italic">European History 
					Online</hi>, Institute of European History, 19 May 2011.</note>
					During our short voyage
			<pb n="111" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_112.png"/>
					I made a brief relation of every thing that had
					<ref target="befallen_" corresp="befallen">befallen me</ref>
					<note xml:id="befallen" target="befallen_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">happened to me</note> 
					from my first being put upon the island to the time of my cousin's arrival. 
					He listened with an attention little short of astonishment.
					</p>
				<p>"What a series," cried he, "of amazing 
				<ref target="providences_" corresp="providences">providences</ref>! 
					<note xml:id="providences" target="providences_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">divine provisions, fortunate happenings</note>
					I will learn their language, and end my days in carrying on the great work you have 
					so wonderfully begun amongst them; for never shall I be able so successfully to 
					<ref target="fulfil_" corresp="fulfil">fulfil</ref>
					<note xml:id="fulfil" target="fulfil_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">fulfill, make complete</note> the duties of my
					function as among a	plain, uncorrupted, honest people as these I find are; for
					since I saw you, Unca, I have entered into					
					<ref target="holy-orders_" corresp="holy-orders">holy orders</ref>."
					<note xml:id="holy-orders" target="holy-orders_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">the status of an ordained minister of the 
					Christian church</note>
					</p>
			<pb n="112" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_113.png"/>
				<p>
                    <persName type="lcnaf" key="n84027119">Unca</persName>. "The novelty of what you
				     have heard, has heated your imagination, and hurried you into a resolution,
					 that in your calmer moments you will retract. Besides, what will your parents
					 say to their only son's becoming a voluntary exile?"				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "They are too good to oppose so 
					<ref target="pious_" corresp="pious">pious</ref>
					<note xml:id="pious" target="pious_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">faithful to religious duties and observances</note> 
					a resolve. What a glorious harvest do I see! I will return, and ask their					
					<ref target="leave_" corresp="leave">leave</ref>. 
					<note xml:id="leave" target="leave_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">permission</note>
					I know I shall obtain it.
					And then I shall have but one thing more to ask, and that is,
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="n84027119">Unca's</persName>
					<ref target="hand_" corresp="hand">hand</ref>
					<note xml:id="hand" target="hand_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">pledge of marriage</note>for ever, in
					return for my heart, which she has long had-What says my dear cousin?"				
					</p>
				<p>Unca. "That we must land," returned I, very gravely, "for we are
			<pb n="113" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_114.png"/>
					upon the shore, and the Indians waiting for us."				
					</p>
				<p>I saw he was <ref target="chagrined_" corresp="chagrined">chagrined</ref>
					<note xml:id="chagrined" target="chagrined_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">troubled, vexed, worried, grieved</note> at 
					this unexpected answer so foreign to his question; when, rising up, I 
					gave him my hand to conduct me on shore, which he squeezed,
					as if he meant to punish it for the					
					<ref target="mortification_" corresp="mortification">mortification</ref>
					<note xml:id="mortification" target="mortification_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">embarassment, humiliation</note> my tongue had 
					given him. It was a fine moon-light night, and there were a great many					
					Indians waiting for my return. seeing a stranger with me, they looked 
					as if in doubt or fear, whether they should come up to me as usual. 
					Perceiving their condition, I called to them with that air of					
					<ref target="affability_" corresp="affability">affability</ref>
					<note xml:id="affability" target="affability_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">friendliness, readiness to talk</note>
					with which I always spoke to them, telling them I
					had brought a relation with me, who had come a great way to see me.				
					</p>
			<pb n="114" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_115.png"/>
				<p>Their usual joy at my presence now revived, and they came up to us,
				<ref target="shewing_" corresp="shewing">shewing</ref>
					<note xml:id="shewing" target="shewing_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">showing</note> my
					cousin the same respect commonly paid to me. They attended us to my hut. I
					desired two of the priests to					
					<ref target="sup_" corresp="sup">sup</ref>
					<note xml:id="sup" target="sup_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">eat supper</note>
					with us, that no offence might be given by
					being alone with a man: though such was the chaste simplicity of their manners,
					and their high opinion of me, that I believe the precaution was unnecessary; for
					suspicion reigns most in guilty hearts, and chiefly with regard to those we
					think meanly of. My cousin was pleased with his	repast, though but the second 
					time he had ever partaken of such kinds of provisions. The priests, who had
					learned a little English of me, were mightily pleased whenever they understood a
					word that my cousin said, and most highly					
			<pb n="115" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_116.png"/>
					so as often as they could make themselves understood. When it was time to go to
					rest, the priests took care to provide a proper place for my cousin.				
					</p>
				<p>We were up the next day very early, breakfasted, and then set out for the island.
					During our voyage, the night before, I was the chief speaker; but now, in his
					turn, my cousin briefly told me how he came to know where I was; of which
					hereafter.				
					</p>
				<p>Nor did he omit any opportunity in the course of his narration to give me to
					understand, that he had all along preserved that affection for me that he had
					formerly					
					<ref target="professed_" corresp="professed">professed</ref>. 
					<note xml:id="professed" target="professed_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">declared; already affirmed</note>
					But as often as he dropped such expressions, I took care to
					show no particular regard to 
			<pb n="116" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_117.png"/>
					them, but only a general attention to the thread of his discourse.				
					</p>
				<p>When we had reached the island, I ordered the Indians not to return as usual, not
					knowing what sudden occasion I might have for them; but strictly charged them
					not to advance a foot forward into the island, nor to row to any other part of
					it. My cousin and I now crossed the island to the place where we expected the
					boat to come to. We sat and walked up and down here, by turns, till noon, but
					saw no boat. We then took some of the provisions we had brought, and dined. In
					short, we passed the whole afternoon, till it was time to think of returning
					home, without seeing any signs of a boat: we therefore feared the crew had
					mutinied,					
			<pb n="117" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_118.png"/>
					and run away with the ship,
					and may be murdered the captain and the other passengers; at least, that they
					would not suffer the captain to come on shore again. The evening being far
					advanced, we were obliged to return home, not a little chagrined at our 
					disappointment.
					</p>
				<p>My concern, indeed, arose upon my cousin's account, for had the ship arrived I
					would not have gone away in it, being determined to live and die amongst my dear
					Indians. Nor, indeed, was it his intention to have gone home in her, but to have
					sent word to his parents that he had found me, and was determined to live and
					die with me; which, however, as often as he mentioned it, I most strongly
					opposed.				
					</p>
			<pb n="118" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_119.png"/>
				<p>My cousin insisted upon his going without me the next morning, to which I was
					forced to agree; but was greatly surprised to see him return before noon. "What
					means this quick return? cried I; I cannot conjecture the occasion."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield. "It seems, said he, as if providence, though by a somewhat adverse
					stroke, designs that I shall carry my resolution to teach the					
					Indians into practice, and spend my days with my dear Unca,
					whether she will or no; for as I drew near, this morning, to the part of the shore 
					where we yesterday waited for the boat, I saw, as I thought, several chests, and 
					casks, and such, indeed, they were: and when I came up to
			<pb n="119" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_120.png"/>
					them, I beheld a stick fixed in the ground, to the top of which was tied a letter. 
					This I took, and found it directed to me. Here it is.			
					</p>
				<div type="letter" n="1">
					<opener>
						<salute>Sir,</salute>
					</opener>
					<p>
                        <hi rend="dropcap">I</hi> solemnly assure you, that I have done every thing in my power, both by
						threats and promises, to induce the crew to let me fetch you on board;
						but in vain: so deeply has Mr. Locke's foolish reports wrought upon
						their superstitious minds; for which indeed he is now very sorry. All
						that I can obtain is, that they will carry all your goods, and put them
						on shore by break of day, to-morrow, provided they see nothing of your
						cousin, as I hope they will not, and that you
			<pb n="120" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_121.png"/>
						may at least have your goods, which no doubt you will want. As the men 
						were only hired to come here, they insist upon returning to
						<placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">Europe</placeName>. 
						Please <persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName> I
						arrive safe there, I will give your father and mother the best account I
						can. As your cousin has found means of subsisting, I hope you will too.
						I intend to come again in search of you next year; for it will be
						impossible to come sooner. I remember your cousin said her residence was
						on another island, where I suppose you will live also.					
						</p>
					<p>If I am so happy as to live to come again, I will set up an high pole, in
						some <ref target="conspicuous_" corresp="conspicuous">conspicuous</ref>
						<note xml:id="conspicuous" target="conspicuous_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">visible, apparent</note> part of the 
						island with a <ref target="streamer_" corresp="streamer">streamer</ref>; 
						<note xml:id="streamer" target="streamer_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">flag streaming or waving in the air</note> so that
				<pb n="121" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_122.png"/>
						if you come from time to time to
						look for me, you will be sure to know when I am arrived; but you must
						not expect me much short of a year hence. But as I know not at what part
						of the island I may be obliged to cast anchor, or at what distance from
						it, when I arrive, I will place a small piece of cannon on the shore
						nearest to where the ship may lie, that if you come whilst we are on
						board, you may by firing it, give notice of your being upon the island.
						I most heartily wish your cousin and you health and happiness, and hope
						we shall meet again; nor to that end shall any thing be wanting that may
						be in the power of,					
						</p>
					<closer>
						<signed>Sir, &amp;c. &amp;c.</signed>
					</closer>
				</div>
				<pb n="122" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_123.png"/>
					<p>I was heartily sorry at reading of this; but my cousin smiled, and said he should
						now live with me whether I would, or not. "I am," added he, "only uneasy for my
						father and mother; but I know when they are assured that you are living, and
						that we are together, their concern will be greatly lessened, and they will
						comfort themselves with the pleasing hope of hearing of us both next year. And
						it is in your power, my dear Unca, greatly to add to their pleasure, by enabling 
						me to acquaint them, that you have become their daughter. Let us then be united 
						in the glorious work you have begun; teach me the Indian language, and I will join 
						the glorious task you have commenced, and
				<pb n="123" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_124.png"/>
						tread, with you, the path that leads to
						glory and happiness by well doing. One motive for my seeking you was, that, if
						we should meet, we might be for ever united. Consider one thing more, that if
						you refuse me, we cannot enjoy those hours of privacy together, I at least shall
						wish for, without offence to those around us; at least I know your delicacy will
						be hurt by them."				
						</p>
					<p>This last remark had some weight with me, yet I declined a direct answer; for
						though I loved him as a friend and relation, I had never considered him as a
						lover; nor any other person. It appeared to me, indeed, as if it must be as he
						would have it, yet					
				<pb n="124" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_125.png"/>
						the reflection gave me no pleasure; for though the Indians, I believed, would 
						not entertain any ill suspicions of my conduct, yet I could not satisfy myself 
						with the reflection of being much alone with a man, as it hurt my modesty. 
						However, postponing the matter for further consideration, my immediate care was 
						to provide a sufficient number of canoes, the largest that could be got, to fetch 
						my cousin's baggage.				
						</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="10">
			<pb n="125" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_126.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. X.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">Embark their effects for the inhabited island. 
					Mr. Winkfield marries his cousin and proceeds in the work of 
					conversion. He relates by what means he came to the knowledge 
					of her being in that part of the world.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
                    <hi rend="dropcap">T</hi>HE next morning my cousin set out with a sufficient
					number of canoes, and brought all his things over. Besides a proper stock of
					clothes for himself, and some useful books, he had, as if certain of finding me
					living, and the naked inhabitant of a desolate island, brought over apparel for
					me. The linen indeed was very acceptable to me, as I now began to be in great
					want of it.				
					</p>
			<pb n="126" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_127.png"/>
				<p>I was very much pleased to see a basket with about a dozen live fowls, cocks and
					hens; with these the island was soon stocked, and were very pleasing to the
					Indians, who had never seen any before. But what were these to the many other
					things the Indians had never seen before, at which they wondered, and were
					delighted with? a gun and the surprising effects of gunpowder, a telescope, and
					many other European curiosities, and without which indeed they were sufficiently
					happy! However, the sight of these raised in them an high opinion of my cousin,
					next to that they had for me.				
					</p>
				<p>I passed my time happily enough, before my cousin's arrival, but more so
					afterwards; for from his presence I					
			<pb n="127" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_128.png"/>
					enjoyed a new advantage. We now had divine service every Lord's day; which my
					cousin performed in English, and I was interpreter, till he had learned the
					Indian language, which he did much sooner than could have been well expected;
					and at last preached in the Indian tongue. I had now the great pleasure of once
					more enjoying all the
					<ref target="ordinances_" corresp="ordinances">ordinances</ref>
					<note xml:id="ordinances" target="ordinances_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">prescribed practices</note>
					of the church, and the constant company of a
					religious and sensible companion, to whom, through his constant 
					<ref target="importunity_" corresp="importunity">importunity</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="importunity" target="importunity_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">persistence</note> I was at last obliged 
					to give my hand, about 
					<ref target="two-months_" corresp="two-months">two months</ref>
					<note xml:id="two-months" target="two-months_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Unca Eliza's marriage to her cousin 
					is not done out of love for him.</note> after his arrival. We first 
					married ourselves according to the church rites, the high-priest acting 
					as father, who died about a week after. We were also married according 
					to the custom of the Indians, that they might					
			<pb n="128" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_129.png"/>
					the more perfectly be satisfied, their form having nothing in it contrary to our
					religion.				
					</p>
				<p>From the time of my cousin's settling here, or rather
					<ref target="my-husband_" corresp="my-husband">my husband</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="my-husband" target="my-husband_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/marriage.jpg" alt="a well dressed couple seated in an ornate room" source="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/440568" desc="William Hogarth's painting 'Marriage Settlement' (c.1743) portrays        an arranged marriage between wealthy families. The scene displayes the tie        between family expectations and marriage during the eighteenth century.        Public domain image from the Metropolition Museum of Art"/>
						Unca Eliza refers to Mr. Winkfield as her cousin until they are married, 
						after she refers to him as her husband. Marriage among family members was 
						socially acceptable throughout the eighteenth century. Commonly, the upper 
						class chose familial marriages to maintain wealth and respected social 
						status. Susan McKinnon, "Cousin Marriage, Hierarchy, and Heredity: 
						Contestations over Domestic and National Body Politics in 19th-century America."
						<hi rend="italic">Journal of the British Academy</hi> 7 (2019): 61-88.
						<ref target="https://doi.org/10.5871/jba/007.061">DOI:10.5871/jba/007.061</ref>
						</note>
					as I must now for the future call him, the Indians were properly baptized, 
					married, and many of them, at their earnest desire, admitted to the Lord's supper. 
					My husband and I spent much of our time in teaching the christian religion to the 
					children; he the boys and I the girls: so that, what with 
					<ref target="catechising_" corresp="catechising">catechising</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="catechising" target="catechising_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">teaching the elements of religion</note>
					and his preaching twice a week, we had greatly the appearance of a christian country. 
					The natural simplicity and purity of the Indian manners greatly accelerated 
					this work.					
					</p>
			<pb n="129" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_130.png"/>
				<p>Being now more at leisure, I desired my husband to recount to me at large, what
					he had at first but briefly told me of, concerning his learning where I was, and
					of the captain who had robbed me, and set me on the uninhabited island. It was
					thus:				
					</p>
				<p>"There came one day," said my husband, "a
					<ref target="sea-faring_" corresp="sea-faring">sea-faring</ref>
					<note xml:id="sea-faring" target="sea-faring_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">a person who makes their living by traveling 
					the sea</note> man to <ref target="winkfield-sr_" corresp="winkfield-sr">my father</ref>,
					<note xml:id="winkfield-sr" target="winkfield-sr_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">i.e., Winkfield senior, 
					Unca Eliza's paternal uncle</note> who enquired of him if he had not a niece at
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7007919">Virginia</placeName> of the same name with
					himself. To this my father replied, that he had a brother, and niece, at that
					place, if they were not come away, for that he had expected them some months,
					his brother having sent over great part of his effects, which he had received,
					and who had informed him by					
			<pb n="130" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_131.png"/>
					letter, that <ref target="soon-follow_" corresp="soon-follow">he and his 
					daughter would soon follow</ref>;<note xml:id="soon-follow" target="soon-follow_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">Winkfield 
					senior refers here to the events of 
					<ref target="https://anthology.lib.virginia.edu/work/Winkfield/winkfield-female-american">Volume I</ref> 
					of the novel, leading up to Unca Eliza becoming stranded on the island.</note> but, 
					added he, do you, sir, know any thing of them?"				
					</p>
				<p>"Yes, sir," replied the stranger: "your brother, I am sorry to inform you, died just
					as he was about to set out for
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>."
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield senior. "I am very much concerned to hear of my dear brother's death—
					But as to my niece, does she intend to come over to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, or to continue there?
					perhaps she has sent you with orders concerning her effects."				
					</p>
				<p>Stranger. "As to your niece, I do not come from her. I never was at
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7007919">Virginia</placeName> in my life, nor did I
					ever					
			<pb n="131" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_132.png"/>
					see her: yet I have some news to
					<ref target="acquaint_" corresp="acquaint">acquaint you with</ref> 
					<note xml:id="acquaint" target="acquaint_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">make you aware of</note>
					concerning her; but which I am sorry to say will give you much
					concern."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield senior. "Indeed, after hearing of the death of my brother, I shall
					be still farther grieved to hear of any affliction that may have
					<ref target="befallen_" corresp="befallen">befallen</ref>
					<note xml:id="befallen" target="befallen_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">happened to</note>
					my dear niece; but God's will be done: pray let me hear it, whatever it is."				
					</p>
				<p>Stranger. "I shall be ready to give you all the information that I can about her.
					But as I cannot do so in a few words, I must beg your patience, whilst I relate
					to you circumstantially all the particulars that I know."				
					</p>
			<pb n="132" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_133.png"/>
				<p>"I am, sir, <ref target="stranger_" corresp="stranger">a captain of a merchant-ship</ref>. 
					<note xml:id="stranger" target="stranger_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">After this point, the "stranger" 
					is referred to as "merchant captain."</note>As we were sailing from the
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7004550">West-Indies</placeName> for this my native
					country, we met with a sail, which fired a gun for us to bring to. This alarmed
					us; for as it was a time of peace, I feared it might be a pirate, as indeed it
					proved; but happily one from whom we received not the least injury, as you will
					hear."				
					</p>
				<p>"We were, in no wise, capable of defending ourselves, the pirate being a ship of
					force: we, therefore, were obliged to suffer them to come aboard us. As soon
					as the captain got upon deck, he addressed himself to me in these words:"				
					</p>
			<pb n="133" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_134.png"/>
				<p>
                    <ref target="pirate_" corresp="pirate">Pirate</ref>. 
					<note xml:id="pirate" target="pirate_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					The speaker called "Pirate" here is referred 
					to later in the dialogue by his name, captain Shore.</note>"Be not alarmed: I am, 
					indeed, a pirate, but design no hurt to you. I come on board only to ask a favour, 
					which you can easily grant, if you, as I see you are my countryman, are bound to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>; 
					if not, I will return to my own ship, and leave you
					<ref target="unmolested_" corresp="unmolested">unmolested</ref>
					<note xml:id="unmolested" target="unmolested_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">undisturbed, untroubled</note>
					to pursue your own course."				
					</p>
				<p>Merchant Captain. "I am bound, sir, for
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, and if I can render you
					any service there, will readily and faithfully do it."				
					</p>
				<p>Pirate. "If you please, I will go into your cabin with you, and there open my
					business more fully."				
					</p>
			<pb n="134" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_135.png"/>
				<p>Merchant Captain. "According to his request, captain Shore, (for that he told me
					was his name) and his mate, and I, retired into my cabin, when he soon resumed
					his
					<ref target="discourse_" corresp="discourse">discourse</ref>
					<note xml:id="discourse" target="discourse_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">speech</note>
					in this manner.			
					</p>
				<p>Captain Shore. "I was a few years ago, as I find you are, a merchant captain; but
					having very bad success, I proposed to my mate, here, to turn pirate, to which
					he consenting, we broke our intentions to the crew, who too
					<ref target="readily_" corresp="readily">readily</ref>
					<note xml:id="readily" target="readily_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">willingly</note>
					agreed to our proposal. However, we all resolved never to commit a murder, 
					and rather quit our prey than kill any, if we could not otherwise get 
					master of them: and this resolution we have happily kept to this					
			<pb n="135" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_136.png"/>
					moment. We have been very successful in our robberies. But not daring to put
					into any port in these parts, and as little to return to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, we fought for, and
					found, a small uninhabited island, where we stored our treasures, and at times
					resided. This was privately situated, and where we were in no danger of being
					discovered, and lay very convenient to put to sea from, and retreat to, as we
					saw occasion.			
					</p>
				<p>"The last prize we made was in this manner. Discovering a small ship, we, as
					usual, made what sail we could till we came pretty near to her, and then fired a
					gun for her to bring to. As she was a ship of no force, and we had our guns out
					ready to				
			<pb n="136" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_137.png"/>
					fire upon her, she immediately surrendered. As soon as we came on board, 
					we saw an Indian hanging up alive, and bleeding at the 
					<ref target="yard-arm_" corresp="yard-arm">yard-arm</ref>
					<note xml:id="yard-arm" target="yard-arm_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">either of two outer ends of a 
					shipyard</note>. I asked the captain the meaning of this cruel
					treatment. He replied, that he was a very wicked fellow, and had thrown him
					over-board, and that he and five others of his countrymen had conspired to
					murder all the crew, and run away with the ship; but that he and his men had
					overpowered and killed the five others. Though this seemed very plausible, such
					things often happening at sea, yet I could not help observing a confusion in the 
					<ref target="countenance2_" corresp="countenance2">countenance</ref>,
					<note xml:id="countenance2" target="countenance2_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">facial expression</note> of the captain, 
					which destroyed the credit of this story. Naturally
					abhorring cruelty, and suspecting something
			<pb n="137" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_138.png"/>
					bad, I ordered the Indian to be
					immediately taken down, and his wounds to be dressed. Being determined to make
					what enquiry I could into this affair, I ordered the captain, and the poor
					Indian to be carried, for indeed he could not walk, to go down into the cabin
					with me and my mate: and here a dismal scene presented! the floor and
					<ref target="wainscot_" corresp="wainscot">wainscot</ref>
					<note xml:id="wainscot" target="wainscot_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">wooden paneling used to line the
					walls of a room</note> of the cabin all smeared with blood, and two female Indians wounded and
					bleeding, who seemed to start with horror at the sight of the captain. Having
					imposed silence on the captain, I ordered the women to give me an account of
					what had happened, which, as well as their fright and weakness would permit,
					they did; and the poor Indian, in a few words,
			<pb n="138" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_139.png"/>
					not being able to speak much, confirmed
					what the women had said: but the captain absolutely denied their relation, and
					appealed to the crew, who confirmed his denial.				
					</p>
				<p>"But suspecting the captain to be guilty"—
					</p>
				<p>Here Mr. Winkfield senior interrupted him somewhat peevishly. "Pardon me, sir,"
					cried he, "you are very 
					<ref target="prolix_" corresp="prolix">prolix</ref>.
					<note xml:id="prolix" target="prolix_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">wordy, long-winded</note> I am confounded, and want to know what all this
					has to do with my niece; the part of the world, the slaves alarm me; let me know
					the worst at once: was my niece murdered, sir, on board this ship?"				
					</p>
			<pb n="139" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_140.png"/>
				<p>Merchant Captain. "No, sir, she was not, and may be yet living for ought I know to
					the contrary."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield senior. "May be yet living! you talk mysteriously. I thought you came
					to tell me news about her, and you only say she may be yet living—I abhor
					suspence; if you know any thing concerning her, tell it me at once."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield junior. "Honoured sir, don't be in such a hurry, you will offend the
					gentleman, and we may never come to the perfect knowledge of this affair."				
					</p>
				<p>Merchant Captain. "Sir I take no offence, I attribute your father's
			<pb n="140" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_141.png"/>
					interruption to his concern for his
					niece, but cannot give him the information he wants, except in the manner I was
					going to do it. If it be agreeable, I will proceed."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield senior. "I am of a warm temper, sir, the subject is very interesting,
					and in affection I know no difference between my niece and my daughter; I hope
					therefore you will excuse my rude interruption, and be pleased to proceed in
					your own way."				
					</p>
				<p>Merchant Captain. "I am satisfied. I left off I think, with saying that
					notwithstanding the captain's denial of what the Indians accused him of, and
					though backed by his crew,					
			<pb n="141" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_142.png"/>that captain
					Shore still thought him guilty."				
					</p>
				<p>Mr. Winkfield senior. "You did, good sir, what am I next to hear? poor
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="n84027119">Unca</persName>?"
					</p>
				<p>Merchant Captain. "I was determined, said captain Shore, to come to the bottom of
					this affair, and therefore made every inquiry that I could. The account the
					Indians gave me was this, that their mistress's name was					
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="n84027119">Unca Eliza Winkfield</persName>; 
					that her father, a very rich man, had lately died at
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7007919">Virginia</placeName>; that she was coming
					over to	<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> to an uncle,
					her father's brother, a clergyman; that she had great riches on board the ship;
					and that the ship also			
			<pb n="142" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_143.png"/>
					was her's, which she had promised to give upon her arrival in
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> to the captain, who took
					care of it for her, and who was a poor broken man; that the captain would have
					forced her to sign a bond, to marry his son upon their arrival in 
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, where he lived; that
					upon her absolute refusal to sign this bond, he threatened to put her upon some
					uninhabited island. Saying this in the hearing of her male-slaves, who loved her
					dearly, he who had been hanged up at the yard-arm, and another, threw the
					captain out of the cabin window into the sea; but that swimming to the ship, he
					was taken up again, when at the head of his men he came into the cabin, murdered
					five of the male Indians,				
			<pb n="143" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_144.png"/>and hung the
					sixth up at the yard-arm, intending there to let him die; and then put their
					mistress upon a desolate island, and was proceeding to sail away with the ship
					and all their mistress's effects."				
					</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="11">
			<pb n="144" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_145.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. XI.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">
                        <ref target="continues_" corresp="continues">Continues his relation</ref>.
					<note xml:id="continues" target="continues_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					Unca Eliza's cousin and husband, Winkfield junior, continues 
					his relation (i.e., story) of having heard the stranger (a.k.a. the merchant captain) 
					retell the story he heard from the pirate (a.k.a. captain Shore).</note> 
					Some account of captain Shore, who resolves to leave off his piratical practices.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>"<hi rend="dropcap">H</hi>AVING <ref target="heard-relation_" corresp="heard-relation">heard 
					this relation, continued captain Shore</ref>, <note xml:id="heard-relation" target="heard-relation_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">The 
					opening line of this chapter is spoken by captain Shore. The "relation" he refers to 
					is the story he heard about Unca Eliza being cast away.</note> I immediately searched 
					among the goods on board, and found sufficient proofs that they belonged to Mrs. 
					Winkfield.			
					</p>
				<p>"However, I was determined, if possible, to make the captain confess his guilt:
					looking therefore very sternly, I gave orders that my men should take and hang
					him up at the yard-arm, where the poor Indian				
			<pb n="145" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_146.png"/>
					had lately hung, and there to remain till he should confess his crime, or die;
					when he, seeing my command was going to be carried into execution, immediately
					acknowledged his crime, and, falling down at my feet, besought my pardon. No,
					cried I, if the innocent could find no mercy, the guilty shall not. You was deaf
					to the cries of the injured Mrs. Winkfield, and I will be deaf to yours; you
					shall be hanged.				
					</p>
				<p>"At the instant I uttered this command these words of scripture came strong upon
					my mind, suddenly like lightning, Thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou
					art, that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou
			<pb n="146" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_147.png"/>
					condemnest thyself: for thou that judgest doest the same things. 
					And thinkest thou this, that thou shalt escape the judgment of					
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God?</persName> 
					I was so sensibly struck with these words, that I started
					up, as in a fright, from my seat. What, cried I to myself, am I doing? is such a
					wicked wretch as I am a proper person to set in judgment upon another? I have
					not murdered indeed, but how many robberies have I not committed? My heart was
					changed, as it were in a moment, I saw my own wickedness, abhorred myself, and
					repented. But concealing my confusion, as well as I could, from those about me,
					I turned about to the captain, and said, I will not take upon myself to execute
					the sentence upon you that your crimes			
			<pb n="147" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_148.png"/>
					deserve; but I will take care to have you and your men sent to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, there to be tried by
					the laws of your own country.				
					</p>
				<p>"I then ordered that he should be secured, and all his men, and to make the best
					of our way with both ships to our island. When we arrived there, I ordered all
					possible care to be taken of the three Indians. But the poor Indian who had been
					hung up, died in a few days. Whilst he lived, he greatly lamented the fate of
					his mistress, and almost his last words were, Pray hang the wicked captain. As
					to the females they soon recovered, their wounds being but slight.			
					</p>
			<pb n="148" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_149.png"/>
				<p>"The day after we reached our island, I told my mate what had passed in my mind
					the day before; and that I was determined to leave off the evil course I had
					unhappily engaged in, at all events. He seemed much affected with what I said,
					and, after pausing some time, answered, But how shall we be able to 			
					<ref target="extricate_" corresp="extricate">extricate</ref>
						<note xml:id="extricate" target="extricate_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">free</note> ourselves? Where go to live 
						with safety?				
					</p>
				<p>"To this I replied, that I was determined to save my soul, if I could not my body,
					and would sooner get, by some means or other, to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> and be hanged, than
					continue the life I had led. For I considered the words that came into my mind
					yesterday as no less than the words			
			<pb n="149" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_150.png"/>
					of <persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>. To this my mate replied, 
					I am not a little affected with what happened to you yesterday, and do pray that 
					I may be enabled to follow you in so good a resolution; and may					
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName> give to us both, 
					a repentance not to be repented of. But	what shall we do with our men?				
					</p>
				<p>"I answered, I have not been without my thoughts concerning them. You know
					they all love me much, and are not such wicked men as most of their profession
					commonly are. And I have at times heard them lament their long absence from
					their families, and now and then express some dislike at the unhappy way they
					are in. I intend therefore to talk to them, and to propose a way
			<pb n="150" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_151.png"/>
					by which possibly we may all obtain our pardon, and return again to our own country.				
					</p>
				<p>"Accordingly the same evening I called them all together, and, my mate being
					present, thus addressed them:				
					</p>
				<p>"My dear countrymen!
					</p>
				<p>"I once was so unhappy, and so wicked, as to persuade you to join with me in the
					evil course, which we have but too successfully followed for some years. What
					distress, by our robberies, have we brought upon many innocent persons? But how
					much greater distress will come upon us, unless we most seriously repent of our
					sins?					
			<pb n="151" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_152.png"/>
					"You know what happened, yesterday,
					on board the ship, we took. Whilst I was, in presence of some of you,					
					<ref target="reproving_" corresp="reproving">reproving</ref>
					<note xml:id="reproving" target="reproving_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">rebuking or reprimanding</note>
					that wicked man, my own conscience					
					<ref target="smote_" corresp="smote">smote</ref>
					<note xml:id="smote" target="smote_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml       #UOStudStaff">past tense of 'smite'; hit</note> me with these words 
					of holy writ, Thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art, 
					that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself: 
					for thou that judgest doest the same things.
					And thinkest thou this, that thou shalt escape the judgment of 
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>?
					</p>
				<p>"From that moment it was, I hope, given me to repent, and I am determined to break
					off my sins, let the event be what it will. As I once led you into the ways of
					sin, happy should I be, if I might recover you to the paths of virtue.
			<pb n="152" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_153.png"/>
					"Consider, though we have 
					<ref target="hitherto_" corresp="hitherto">hitherto</ref>
					<note xml:id="hitherto" target="hitherto_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml       #UOStudStaff">until now</note> escaped the vengeance of man, we cannot escape 
					that of <persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName>. Nor, indeed, 
					can we in all probability, to the end, escape the justice of man. The wretch who
					yesterday no doubt gloried in his success over an innocent, helpless woman,
					before night fell into our hands, and has lost his liberty, and the riches for
					which he damned his soul. Let his fate be a warning to us before the like
					<ref target="befalls_" corresp="befalls">befalls</ref>
					<note xml:id="befalls" target="befalls_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">comes upon</note> us: 
					I have thought of a method by which we may very probably escape the
					punishment due to our crimes, do a noble piece of justice, and have an
					opportunity, if		
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName> 
					shall please to bless it, to repent.
					</p>
			<pb n="153" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_154.png"/>
				<p>"It is to keep the prisoners we took yesterday close confined on board their own
					ship, and to secure that and the treasure in it, and to draw up the whole
					account of this affair to send it to the injured lady's uncle in
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, acquainting him that
					if he will apply to					
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="n80035841">king James</persName>,
					and procure a pardon for us, that we may return to					
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>,
					upon condition that we bring the captain and all his crew there, that they may
					suffer for their crimes, and deliver up to the lady's uncle the ship and all the
					effects on board. This no doubt will be complied with. To carry this scheme into
					execution, is to stop the first small ship that we may meet with going to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>; I will tell the
					captain our
			<pb n="154" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_155.png"/>
					situation, and desire him to take me on board, and set me down on the coast of					
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1003759">Holland</placeName> or
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1000070">France</placeName>, as may be most
					convenient, where I may wait in safety, whilst he carries my letters to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, and till I can receive
					the conditional pardon and a passport for myself and you to return to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> in a convenient limited
					time; which, as soon as I receive, I will hire a small sailing-vessel, and make
					what haste I can to you, that we may once more see our native country. As we
					have always divided among ourselves what we have taken, if I reach
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, I will publish my
					return, with an offer to restore the effects I have unjustly taken, to such
					persons as can satisfy me that I robbed them, though
			<pb n="155" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_156.png"/>"I should have nothing left. For if I
					don't do so, I shall doubt the sincerity of my own repentance; for there can be
					no true repentance without restitution. As to you, I must leave it to your own
					consciences, whether you will follow my example, or not. 
					But	<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName> grant you may!
					Consider what I have said, and may 
					<persName type="lcnaf" key="sh85055517">God</persName> 
					direct you, and tomorrow give me your answer.			
					</p>
				<p>"They accordingly came to me the next morning, when they all expressed their
					hearty consent to my proposal. Though I could not but observe, that this 
					<ref target="unanimity_" corresp="unanimity">unanimity</ref>
					<note xml:id="unanimity" target="unanimity_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">agreement between all parties</note> 
					of opinion proceeded from different motives; in some it arose only 
					from fear of being caught and hanged, in		
			<pb n="156" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_157.png"/>
					others, from a desire of enjoying their ill-gotten wealth: but I had the
					pleasure to find that a few were touched with what I had said, and seemed to
					manifest signs of repentance.	
					</p>
				<p>"I answered, that since they were come to this resolution, our immediate business
					was to watch for the opportunity, and that when it offered, I told them, that
					they must be sure to continue upon the island till I should return, unless I 
					<ref target="staid_" corresp="staid">staid</ref>
					<note xml:id="staid" target="staid_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">stayed</note> so long as to give them good 
					reason to conclude, that some accident had happened to me. This they all most 
					solemnly promised to do.			
					</p>
			<pb n="157" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_158.png"/>
				<p>"And now, sir, said captain Shore, speaking still to me, the wished-for opportunity
					offers, if you please to afford it; but I lay you under no restraint; for though
					I wish you may grant my desire, you are at your liberty. If you have any reason
					to object to it, you are welcome to pursue your voyage in peace and safety; for
					I will not offer the least injury to you, or any with you."				
					</p>
				<p>"For my part, answered I, I am very ready to give you all the assistance in my
					power, towards carrying so good a resolution into action, and as I have some
					business to transact upon the coast of
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1000070">France</placeName>, I can very conveniently
					land you there, and when I				
					<pb n="158" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_159.png"/>
					arrive in <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> 
					will diligently and faithfully execute what commission you shall please to give me."				
					</p>
				<p>"Well then," replied captain Shore, "I will go on board my own ship, and get together
					such things as I want, and return to you, that we may proceed upon our voyage.
					In the mean time, sir, in order to remove any bad impressions that your crew may
					have conceived of me, be pleased to inform them that I did not stop you as a
					pirate, but only to request the favour of a passage to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1000070">France</placeName>. I promised I would do so;
					and accordingly did; and they were all well satisfied."				
					</p>
			<pb n="159" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_160.png"/>
				<p>"As soon as captain Shore returned on board with his baggage, we set sail, and
					when we arrived upon the coast of
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1000070">France</placeName>, I there left him, and,
					being myself returned safe to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, have waited on you. And
					here, sir, continued <ref target="strange-captain_" corresp="strange-captain">the 
					strange captain</ref>
                    <note xml:id="strange-captain" target="strange-captain_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml #UOStudStaff">The 
					"strange captain," also known as the "merchant captain," is the "stranger" from 
					the beginning of this series of inset narratives.</note> to 
					<ref target="my-father_" corresp="my-father">my father</ref>,
					<note xml:id="my-father" target="my-father_">i.e., Mr. Winkfield senior, Unca 
					Eliza's uncle</note> is a letter from captain Shore to you, bills of parcels of the 
					goods on board your niece's ship, and some other papers belonging to your niece."				
					</p>
			</div>
			<div type="chapter" n="12">
			<pb n="160" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_161.png"/>
				<head type="main">CHAP. XII.</head>
				<head type="desc">
					<hi rend="italic">After captain Shore had obtained a pardon for himself and
						crew, he returns in search of Mrs. Winkfield.
						Fate of the captain who left her on the uninhabited island. They resolve 
						to settle their affairs in <placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, 
						and live with the Indians. Conclusion.</hi>
				</head>
				<p>
                    <hi rend="dropcap">"M</hi>Y father and I heard this wonderful relation with great
					attention and surprise; but still mourned for you, my dear Unca,
					being ignorant of your fate. However, we proceeded to bring the captain to
					justice. The case was laid before the king and council, together with captain
					Shore's petition, on behalf of himself and people. I got the conditional pardon
			<pb n="161 [page breaks after 'grant']" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_162.png"/>
					granted, having three years allowed to bring home the ship and crew, with a 
					proper passport.				
					</p>
				<p>"As soon as captain Shore received notice of this, he came home to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, in order to hire a
					ship to carry him back to his people.				
					</p>
				<p>"Whilst he was making the proper preparations for his voyage, we were much
					together. I asked him, as he was well acquainted with those parts where my
					cousin had been left upon some island or other thereabouts, whether he thought
					it improbable to discover the island.				
					</p>
				<p>"He answered, I know those parts extremely well, and I doubt not, that
			<pb n="162" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_163.png"/>
					if the captain will give me the best
					account of the information of the island that he can, but that I should be able
					to find it out. This gave me great pleasure. Well then, said I, if my father and
					mother will give their consent, I will go along with you in quest of her.				
					</p>
				<p>"It is not impossible, added I; but she may be yet living. I have read of as
					surprising deliverances; at the worst we may find her bones, and pay the last
					honours to her dear unhappy memory: and here, my dear Unca, I wept indeed!				
					</p>
				<p>"My father and mother consented with pleasure, and as soon as every thing was
					settled, and ready, we				
			<pb n="163" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_164.png"/>
					sailed. We had a speedy and prosperous voyage to the captain's island; where 
					he and the pardon he brought were highly welcome. I there saw the wicked captain, 
					who robbed you. He gave captain Shore a very clear account of the situation of your 
					island. We staid here no longer than till your ship and the captain's were ready 
					to sail for	<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName> with your treasure,
					and the prisoners all under his mate's command. We promised to follow them soon,
					to our native country. We then set sail for your island, and happily discovered
					it; but, what was a much happier discovery, found you alive and well."				
					</p>
				<p>Thus my husband ended his extraordinary relation; full of a wonderful
			<pb n="164" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_165.png"/>
					series of providences. At length the
					time arrived to expect the return of captain Shore; and now my husband went
					twice every week over to the island for three months; but no appearance of any
					ship. But at last as he approached the shore one morning, he saw a streamer
					playing in the air; he knew the signal, and rejoiced. But walking to the place
					where he had first landed out of the ship that brought him, he saw no cannon,
					nor any body upon the island; he continued walking along the shore, yet saw no
					ship. At last he spied a cannon; having always a tinderbox ready about him for
					the expected occcasion, he struck a light, and fired the cannon. It was not long
					before he saw a boat making for the shore, and soon discovered that 
					captain Shore was				
			<pb n="165" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_166.png"/>
					one of the company. They were
					very glad to see each other. It seems captain Shore had arrived but the day
					before, when he set up the flag, and having waited all day, left the cannon
					ready charged before he returned on board. My husband went on board the
					captain's ship, and dined with him, when they agreed that captain Shore should
					come with my husband to our island, and spend three days with us. We were both
					very glad to hear that our father and mother were all well, and our sisters. We
					desired captain Shore to relate the particulars that had happened from the time
					he left the island, which he did, as follows:				
					</p>
				<p>Captain Shore. "I shall pass over the unimportant accidents that occurred
			<pb n="166" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_167.png"/>
					during our voyage. Upon our arrival in
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, I found all your
					family well. They were amazingly surprised to hear of Mrs. Winkfield's being
					alive. And the thought of your being together made them easy as to their not
					seeing their son again with me, as they expected. But when I told them of the
					strange things that I had seen and heard on the island, they were confounded. I
					know not, said your father, what to make of these things; they exceed human
					comprehension. Surely your fears and surprise made you to imagine things to
					exist that really did not. May be so, returned I, willing to drop a subject, that
					I myself did not understand, and which					
			<pb n="167" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_168.png"/>
					if insisted on, might have given great uneasiness."				
					</p>
				<p>"I should have returned much sooner here, continued captain Shore; but as my ship,
					and Mrs. Winkfield's were both arrived a week before me, I was obliged to stay
					till the cargoes were landed, and what belonged to Mrs. Winkfield committed to
					your father's care. Besides, I was obliged to attend the trial of the captain
					and the crew, who were found guilty upon their own confession. The captain, and
					three of his men, were hanged at					
					<ref target="execution-dock_" corresp="execution-dock">Execution-Dock</ref>, 
					<note xml:id="execution-dock" target="execution-dock_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
						<graphic url="notes/gallows.jpg" alt="Black-and-white engraving illustrating a public execution" source="https://www.rmg.co.uk/collections/objects/rmgc-object-247376" desc="Engraving, ca. 1795. Royal Museum Greenwich, CC-BY-NC-ND license"/>
						Piracy was punishable by the death penalty. In the engraving at right, 
						a pirate, thought to be Captain James Lowry, is awaiting execution by hanging at
						<placeName type="lcnaf" key="10031667">Execution-Dock</placeName>, 
						a gallows in <placeName type="tgn" key="7008136">London</placeName> by the
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7011913">Thames River.</placeName>
						Digital image made available by the 
						<placeName type="tgn" key="1100813">National Maritime Museum</placeName>, 
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7018915">Greenwich</placeName>.</note>
						and afterwards hung in chains; the rest of the crew were transported for life. 
						As soon as this was over, I, and my men, took out our pardons in due				
			<pb n="168" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_169.png"/>
					form. They afterwards went where they pleased. Several persons, who I had robbed
					at sea brought in their claims, all which I fully answered. These things settled,
					I set out in Mrs. Winkfield's ship, and arrived safe at your first island."
					</p>
				<p>In return to captain Shore's relation, we acquainted him with every thing that we
					had done in his absence, and satisfied his curiosity about the wonderful things
					that he had met with upon the island. When we had finished our account, the
					captain expressed great surprise and satisfaction at what had happened, and
					added, "Since what has befallen me, I shall not like to reside in
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, nor any more to be
					concerned in worldly affairs; therefore if				
			<pb n="169" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_170.png"/>
					you think me a true convert, let me join in your society." We replied, that we
					had no doubt of his sincerity, and should be very glad of his company.				
					</p>
				<p>We now agreed captain Shore and my husband should return together to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, that my husband might
					take a final leave of his relations, receive his parents blessing, and settle
					half of his and my fortune upon his sisters, and leave the rest for charitable
					uses, and bring over such books and things as might be useful to us in our
					retirement. But we first determined to go upon my island, to collect all the
					gold treasure there, to blow up the subterraneous passage, and the statue, that
					the Indians might					
					<ref target="tempted_" corresp="tempted">never be tempted to their 
					former idolatry.</ref>
					<note xml:id="tempted" target="tempted_" type="editorial" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">
					<graphic url="notes/burn.jpg" alt="Three men with bows and quivers stand around men kneeling with expressions        of horror as they watch a large horned figure burn" source="https://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/68b9ef18-c585-3b78-e040-e00a18066a15" desc="Johann Baptist Zwecker, 'Robinson Crusoe destroying an Idol of the Tartars'        (1872). Public Domain image from New York Public Library Digital Collections.        In this 19th-century illustration, Robinson Crusoe destroys Cham Chi-Thaungu,        referred to in the engraving's original caption as the 'idol' of the 'Tartars'       --a historically inaccurate label often used in European literature to describe        various Central and East Asian peoples."/>
					The destruction of the idol might reflect Unca Eliza's Christian conversion
					of the island's Indigenous people, in the removal of what she believes to be 
					an idolatrous figure. Yet Roslyn Irving reads this moment as symbolic of Unca Eliza'
					integration with the Indigenous people in America, where "removing the statue is 
					perhaps symbolic of a conversion narrative never fully realised."
					See "Reading for Friday in <hi rend="italic">The Female American</hi> (1767)," 
					<hi rend="italic">Nordic Journal of English Studies</hi> 23 (2024): 41. 
					<ref target="https://dx.doi.org/10.35360/njes.2024.23287">
					DOI: 10.35360/njes.2024.23287</ref>.</note> 
					When all this
			<pb n="170" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_171.png"/>
					was done, and the golden treasure put on board, the captain and my husband set out 
					upon their voyage. They arrived safe in					
					<placeName type="tgn" key="7002445">England</placeName>, saw our father and
					mother, who consented to their son's request, and gave him their blessing. As
					soon as my husband had sold his golden treasure, and settled his affairs, and
					bought a large library of books, and many kinds of goods and linen, he and
					captain Shore once more returned to me. We ordered the sailors to unload their
					cargo upon my first island, and to leave us a large boat for the more convenient
					conveying our goods to the other island, where we lived. We did not suffer the
					sailors to come any farther upon the island, than just to land the goods, that
					no discovery of our habitation					
			<pb n="171" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_172.png"/>
					might be made. As we never intended to have any more to do with
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">Europe</placeName>, captain Shore and my
					husband ordered a person who came for that purpose, to return to
					<placeName type="tgn" key="1000003">Europe</placeName> with the ship, by whom,
					for my father and mother's satisfaction, I sent over these adventures.				
					</p>
				<p>FINIS.</p>
			</div>
			<div type="advertisement">
			<pb n="I2v" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_173.png"/>
				<head type="sub">BOOKS Lately printed for F. and J. NOBLE.</head>
					<p>1. <hi rend="dropcap">A</hi>Dopted Daughter; or, the
						History of Miss Clarissa B-, 2 vols. 6s.					
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						<note xml:id="rake" target="rake_" type="gloss" resp="editors.xml#UOStudStaff">a vain, immoral and/or promiscuous man
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						</p>
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			<pb n="I3v" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_175.png"/>
						Edition, to which is now added, the History of a celebrated Courtezan, 
						3s, bound.					
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						</p>
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						Brightley, Finch, Fortescue, Shelburne, and Stevens, 2 vols. 6s. bound.
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			<pb n="I4r" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_176.png"/>
					<p>17. History of Sir Harry Herald, with the Adventures of Mr. Charles
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					<p>19. History of the great Plague which raged in London, in the year 1655;
						Also a Journal of the Plague at	
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7008781">Marseilles</placeName>,
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			<pb n="I4v" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_177.png"/>
					<p>22. History of my own Life. Being an Account of many of the severest
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						that ever entered the Marriage State. 2 vols. 6s. bound.					
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					<p>23. History of Frederick the Forsaken. 2 vols. 6s. bound.
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			<pb n="I5r" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_178.png"/>
						and various Turns of Fortune, in						
						<placeName type="tgn" key="7002444">Scotland</placeName>,
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					<p>35. Life and Real Adventures of Hamilton Murray. Written by himself.
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					<p>36. Muse in Good Humour; a Collection of Comic Tales. 2 vols. 6s. bound.
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					<p>46. Voyages, Travels, and wonderful Discoveries of Captain John Holmsby.
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					<p>48. Ways to kill Care: a Collection of Songs, adapted to all Humours. By
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			<div type="advertisement">
				<pb n="I6r" facs="pageImages/fa_Page_181.png"/>
					<head type="sub">
						<hi rend="italic">Lately published,</hi>
                    <lb/>
						(In Two Volumes, Price 5s. sewed, or 6s. bound)
					</head>
					<p>THE<lb/>
						Country Cousins;<lb/>
						OR, A<lb/>
						Journey to London,<lb/>
						A NOVEL.
						</p>
					<p>Printed for F. and J. Noble.
						</p>
		 </div> 
       </body>
	</text>
</TEI>