well known in the neighbourhood. This, however, might be
passed over as mere gossip, had not another circumstance happened just
about the same time, for the truth of which the Editor does not hesitate
to avouch.

In Fore Street, Plymouth Dock, Captain Heywood found himself one day
walking behind a man, whose shape had so much the appearance of
Christian's, that he involuntarily quickened his pace. Both were walking
very fast, and the rapid steps behind him having roused the stranger's
attention, he suddenly turned his face, looked at Heywood, and
immediately ran off. But the face was as much like Christian's as the
back, and Heywood, exceedingly excited, ran also. Both ran as fast as
they were able, but the stranger had the advantage, and, after making
several short turns, disappeared.

That Christian should be in England, Heywood considered as highly
improbable, though not out of the scope of possibility; for at this time
no account of him whatsoever had been received since they parted at
Otaheite; at any rate the resemblance, the agitation, and the efforts of
the stranger to elude him, were circumstances too strong not to make a
deep impression on his mind. At the moment, his first thought was to set
about making some further inquiries, but on recollection of the pain and
trouble such a discovery must occasion him, he considered it more
prudent to let the matter drop; but the circumstance was frequently
called to his memory for the remainder of his life.

[40] This Nobbs is probably one of those half-witted persons who fancy
they have received a _call_ to preach nonsense--some cobbler escaped
from his stall, or tailor from his shopboard. Kitty Quintal's cant
phrase--'we want food for our souls,' and praying at meals for
'spiritual nourishment,' smack not a little of the jargon of the
inferior caste of evangelicals. Whoever this pastoral drone may be, it
is but too evident that the preservation of the innocence, simplicity,
and happiness of these amiable people, is intimately connected with his
speedy removal from the island.

[41] Well may Adams have sought for rules for his little society in a
book, which contains the foundation of the civil and religious policy of
two-thirds of the human race,--in that wonderful book, into whose
inspired pages the afflicted never seek for consolation in vain.
Millions of examples attest this truth. 'There is no incident in
_Robinson Crusoe_,' observes a writer in a critical jour