t
intervals and lovingly drank in by the earth; Selkirk no longer thinks
of his table and seats; another project has just taken the place of
these, and seems to deserve the precedence.

Marimonda has just returned from a tour in the woods, bringing fruits
of all sorts, among them some which Selkirk has never before seen. He
tastes them with more care and attention than usual; then, becoming
thoughtful, with his chin resting on his hand says to himself: 'Why
should I not make these fruits grow at my door, not far from my
habitation? Why should I not attempt to improve them by cultivation?
This is a very simple and very prudent idea which should have occurred
to me long since; but I was alone, absolutely alone; and one loses
courage when thinking of self only. A garden, at once an orchard and a
vegetable garden, will be at least as useful to me as my fish-pond and
bed of water-cresses; I will make one around my cabin; it will set it
off and give it a more home-like appearance! Is not the stream placed
here expressly to traverse it and water it? Afterwards, if God assist
me, I will raise little kids which will become goats and give me milk,
butter, cheese! Why have I not thought of this before? It would have
been too much to have undertaken at once. I shall then have tame
goats; I will also have Guinea-pigs, agoutis, and coatis. My house
shall be enlarged, I will have a farm, a dairy! But the time has not
yet come; let us first prepare the garden. Why has it not been already
prepared? I am impatient to render the earth productive, fruitful by
my cares, to walk in the shade of the trees I may plant; it seems to
me that I shall be at home there, more than any where else!'

You are right, Selkirk; to possess the entire island, is to possess
nothing; it is simply to have permission to hunt, a right of promenade
and pasture, which the other inhabitants of the island, quadrupeds or
birds, can claim as well as yourself. What is property, without the
power of improvement? Can the earth become the domain of a single
person, when the true limits of his possessions must always be those
of the field which affords him subsistence? Envy not then the
happiness of the rich; they are but the transient holders and
distributors of the public fortune; we possess, in reality, only that
which we can ourselves enjoy; the rest escapes us, and contributes to
the well-being of others.

Selkirk comprehends that his streams, his bank of turf, his