en not only your life is
preserved, but the ship driven into your reach, in order to take what
was necessary out of her for your subsistence? But to proceed, it was,
by the account I kept, the 30th of September, when I first landed on
this island. About twelve days after, fearing lest I should lose my
reckoning of time, nay, even forget the Sabbath days, for want of pen,
ink, and paper, I carved with a knife upon a large post, in great
letters; and set it up: in the similitude of a cross, on the seashore
where I landed, I CAME ON SHORE, _Sept._ 30 1659. Every day I cut a
notch with my knife on the sides of the square post, and this on the
Sabbath was as long again as the rest; and every first day of the month
as long again as that long one. In this manner I kept my calendar,
weekly, monthly or yearly reckoning of time. But had I made a more
strict search (as afterwards I did) I needed not have set up this mark;
for among the parcels belonging to the gunner, carpenter, and captain's
mate, I found those very things I wanted; particularly pens, ink, and
paper. So I found two or three compasses, some mathematical
instruments, dials, perspective glasses, books of navigation, three
English Bibles, and several other good books, which I carefully put
up.--Here I cannot but call to mind our having a dog and two cats on
board, whom I made inhabitants with me in my castle. Though one might
think I had all the necessities that were desirable, yet still I found
several things wanting. My ink was daily wasting; I wanted needles,
pins, and thread to mend or keep my clothes together; and particularly a
spade, pickax, or shovel, to remove the earth. It was a year before I
finished my little bulwark; and having some intervals of relaxation,
after my daily wandering abroad for provision, I drew up this plan,
alternately, as creditor and debtor, to remind me of the miseries and
blessings of my life, under so many various circumstances.

E V I L

I am cast upon a desolate island, having no hopes, no prospects of a
welcome deliverance.

Thus miserably am I singled out from the enjoyment or company of all
mankind.

Like an hermit (rather should I say a lonely anchorite) am I forced from
human conversation.

My clothes after some time will be worn out; and then I shall have none
to cover me.

When my ammunition is wasted, then shall I remain without any defence
against wild men and beasts.

I have no creature, no soul to speak to; no