Daniel Defoe by William Minto

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"Upon this I engaged in it; and that so far, that though the property
was not wholly my own, yet the conduct and government of the style and
news was so entirely in me, that I ventured to assure his lordship the
sting of that mischievous paper should be entirely taken out, though it
was granted that the style should continue Tory as it was, that the
party might be amused and not set up another, which would have destroyed
the design, and this part I therefore take entirely on myself still."

"This went on for a year, before my Lord Townshend went out of the
office; and his lordship, in consideration of this service, made me the
appointment which Mr. Buckley knows of, with promise of a further
allowance as service presented."

"My Lord Sunderland, to whose goodness I had many years ago been
obliged, when I was in a secret commission sent to Scotland, was pleased
to approve and continue this service, and the appointment annexed; and
with his lordship's approbation, I introduced myself, in the disguise of
a translator of the foreign news, to be so far concerned in this weekly
paper of _Mist's_ as to be able to keep it within the circle of a secret
management, also prevent the mischievous part of it; and yet neither
Mist, or any of those concerned with him, have the least guess or
suspicion by whose direction I do it."

"But here it becomes necessary to acquaint my lord (as I hinted to you,
Sir), that this paper, called the _Journal_, is not in myself in
property, as the other, only in management; with this express
difference, that if anything happens to be put in without my knowledge,
which may give offence, or if anything slips my observation which may be
ill-taken, his lordship shall be sure always to know whether he has a
servant to reprove or a stranger to correct."

"Upon the whole, however, this is the consequence, that by this
management, the weekly _Journal_, and _Dormer's Letter_, as also the
_Mercurius Politicus_, which is in the same nature of management as the
_Journal_, will be always kept (mistakes excepted) to pass as Tory
papers and yet, be disabled and enervated, so as to do no mischief or
give any offence to the Government."

Others of the tell-tale letters show us in detail how Defoe acquitted
himself of his engagements to the Government--bowing, as he said, in the
house of Rimmon. In one he speaks of a traitorous pamphlet which he has
stopped at the press, and begs the Secretary to assure his superiors
that he has the original in safe keeping, and that no eye but his own
has seen it. In another he apologizes for an obnoxious paragraph which
had crept into _Mist's Journal_, avowing that "Mr. Mist did it, after I
had looked over what he had gotten together," that he [Defoe] had no
concern in it, directly or indirectly, and that he thought himself
obliged to notice this, to make good what he said in his last, viz. that
if any mistake happened, Lord Stanhope should always know whether he had
a servant to reprove or a stranger to punish. In another he expresses
his alarm at hearing of a private suit against Morphew, the printer of
the _Mercurius Politicus_, for a passage in that paper, and explains,
first, that the obnoxious passage appeared two years before, and was
consequently covered by a capitulation giving him indemnity for all
former mistakes; secondly, that the thing itself was not his, neither
could any one pretend to charge it on him, and consequently it could not
be adduced as proof of any failure in his duty. In another letter he
gives an account of a new treaty with Mist. "I need not trouble you," he
says, "with the particulars, but in a word he professes himself
convinced that he has been wrong, that the Government has treated him
with lenity and forbearance, and he solemnly engages to me to give no
more offence. The liberties Mr. Buckley mentioned, viz. to seem on the
same side as before, to rally the _Flying Post_, the Whig writers, and
even the word 'Whig,' &c., and to admit foolish and trifling things in
favour of the Tories. This, as I represented it to him, he agrees is
liberty enough, and resolves his paper shall, for the future, amuse the
Tories, but not affront the Government." If Mist should break through
this understanding, Defoe hopes it will be understood that it is not his
fault; he can only say that the printer's resolutions of amendment seem
to be sincere.

"In pursuance also of this reformation, he brought me this
morning the enclosed letter, which, indeed, I was glad to see,
because, though it seems couched in terms which might have
been made public, yet has a secret gall in it, and a manifest
tendency to reproach the Government with partiality and
injustice, and (as it acknowledges expressly) was written to
serve a present turn. As this is an earnest of his just intention,
I hope he will go on to your satisfaction."

"Give me leave, Sir, to mention here a circumstance which
concerns myself, and which, indeed, is a little hardship upon
me, viz. that I seem to merit less, when I intercept a piece of
barefaced treason at the Press, than when I stop such a letter
as the enclosed; because one seems to be of a kind which no
man would dare to meddle with. But I would persuade myself,
Sir, that stopping such notorious things is not without
its good effect, particularly because, as it is true that some
people are generally found who do venture to print any
thing that offers, so stopping them here is some discouragement
and disappointment to them, and they often die in our
hands."

"I speak this, Sir, as well on occasion of what you were
pleased to say upon that letter which I sent you formerly
about _Killing no Murder_, as upon another with verses in it,
which Mr. Mist gave me yesterday; which, upon my word,
is so villainous and scandalous that I scarce dare to send it
without your order, and an assurance that my doing so, shall
be taken well, for I confess it has a peculiar insolence in it
against His Majesty's person which (as blasphemous words
against God) are scarce fit to be repeated."

In the last of the series (of date June 13, 1718), Defoe is able to
assure his employers that "he believes the time is come when the
journal, instead of affronting and offending the Government, may many
ways be made serviceable to the Government; and he has Mr. M. so
absolutely resigned to proper measures for it, that he is persuaded he
may answer for it."

Following up the clue afforded by these letters, Mr. Lee has traced the
history of _Mist' Journal_ under Defoe's surveillance. Mist did not
prove so absolutely resigned to proper measures as his supervisor had
begun to hope. On the contrary, he had frequent fits of refractory
obstinacy, and gave a good deal of trouble both to Defoe and to the
Government. Between them, however, they had the poor man completely in
their power. When he yielded to the importunity of his Jacobite
correspondents, or kicked against the taunts of the Whig organs about
his wings being clipped--they, no more than he, knew how--his secret
controllers had two ways of bringing him to reason. Sometimes the
Government prosecuted him, wisely choosing occasions for their
displeasure on which they were likely to have popular feeling on their
side. At other times Defoe threatened to withdraw and have nothing more
to do with the _Journal_. Once or twice he carried this threat into
execution. His absence soon told on the circulation, and Mist entreated
him to return, making promises of good behaviour for the future.
Further, Defoe commended himself to the gratitude of his unconscious
dupe by sympathizing with him in his troubles, undertaking the conduct
of the paper while he lay in prison, and editing two volumes of a
selection of _Miscellany Letters_ from its columns. At last, however,
after eight years of this partnership, during which Mist had no
suspicion of Defoe's connexion with the Government, the secret somehow
seems to have leaked out. Such at least is Mr. Lee's highly probable
explanation of a murderous attack made by Mist upon his partner.

Defoe, of course, stoutly denied Mist's accusations, and published a
touching account of the circumstances, describing his assailant as a
lamentable instance of ingratitude. Here was a man whom he had saved
from the gallows, and befriended at his own risk in the utmost distress,
turning round upon him, "basely using, insulting, and provoking him, and
at last drawing his sword upon his benefactor." Defoe disarmed him, gave
him his life, and sent for a surgeon to dress his wounds. But even this
was not enough. Mist would give him nothing but abuse of the worst and
grossest nature. It almost shook Defoe's faith in human nature. Was
there ever such ingratitude known before? The most curious thing is that
Mr. Lee, who has brought all these facts to light, seems to share
Defoe's ingenuous astonishment at this "strange instance of ungrateful
violence," and conjectures that it must have proceeded from imaginary
wrong of a very grievous nature, such as a suspicion that Defoe had
instigated the Government to prosecute him. It is perhaps as well that
it should have fallen to so loyal an admirer to exhume Defoe's secret
services and public protestations; the record might otherwise have been
rejected as incredible.

Mr. Lee's researches were not confined to Defoe's relations with Mist
and his journal, and the other publications mentioned in the precious
letter to Mr. de la Faye. Once assured that Defoe did not withdraw from
newspaper-writing in 1715, he ransacked the journals of the period for
traces of his hand and contemporary allusions to his labours. A rich
harvest rewarded Mr. Lee's zeal. Defoe's individuality is so marked that
it thrusts itself through every disguise. A careful student of the
_Review_, who had compared it with the literature of the time, and
learnt his peculiar tricks of style and vivid ranges of interest, could
not easily be at fault in identifying a composition of any length.
Defoe's incomparable clearness of statement would alone betray him; that
was a gift of nature which no art could successfully imitate.
Contemporaries also were quick at recognising their Proteus in his many
shapes, and their gossip gives a strong support to internal evidence,
resting as it probably did on evidences which were not altogether
internal. Though Mr. Lee may have been rash sometimes in quoting little
scraps of news as Defoe's, he must be admitted to have established that,
prodigious as was the number and extent of the veteran's separate
publications during the reign of the First George, it was also the most
active period of his career as a journalist. Managing Mist and writing
for his journal would have been work enough for an ordinary man; but
Defoe founded, conducted, and wrote for a host of other newspapers--the
monthly _Mercurius Politicus_, an octavo of sixty-four pages
(1716-1720); the weekly _Dormer's News-Letter_ (written, not printed,
1716-1718); the _Whitehall Evening Post_ (a tri-weekly quarto-sheet,
established 1718); the _Daily Post_ (a daily single leaf, folio,
established 1719); and _Applebee's Journal_ (with which his connexion
began in 1720 and ended in 1726).

The contributions to these newspapers which Mr. Lee has assigned, with
great judgment it seems to me, to Defoe, range over a wide field of
topics, from piracy and highway robberies to suicide and the Divinity of
Christ. Defoe's own test of a good writer was that he should at once
please and serve his readers, and he kept this double object in view in
his newspaper writings, as much as in _Robinson Crusoe_, _Moll
Flanders_, and the _Family Instructor_. Great as is the variety of
subjects in the selections which Mr. Lee has made upon internal
evidence, they are all of them subjects in which Defoe showed a keen
interest in his acknowledged works. In providing amusement for his
readers, he did not soar above his age in point of refinement; and in
providing instruction, he did not fall below his age in point of
morality and religion. It is a notable circumstance that one of the
marks by which contemporaries traced his hand was "the little art he is
truly master of, of forging a story and imposing it on the world for
truth." Of this he gave a conspicuous instance in _Mist's Journal_ in an
account of the marvellous blowing up of the island of St. Vincent, which
in circumstantial invention and force of description must be ranked
among his master-pieces. But Defoe did more than embellish stories of
strange events for his newspapers. He was a master of journalistic art
in all its branches, and a fertile inventor and organizer of new
devices. It is to him, Mr. Lee says, and his researches entitle him to
authority, that we owe the prototype of the leading article, a Letter
Introductory, as it became the fashion to call it, written on some
subject of general interest and placed at the commencement of each
number. The writer of this Letter Introductory was known as the "author"
of the paper.

Another feature in journalism which Defoe greatly helped to develop, if
he did not actually invent, was the Journal of Society. In the _Review_
he had provided for the amusement of his readers by the device of a
Scandal Club, whose transactions he professed to report. But political
excitement was intense throughout the whole of Queen Anne's reign; Defoe
could afford but small space for scandal, and his Club was often
occupied with fighting his minor political battles. When, however, the
Hanoverian succession was secured, and the land had rest from the hot
strife of parties, light gossip was more in request. Newspapers became
less political, and their circulation extended from the coffee-houses,
inns, and ale-houses to a new class of readers. "They have of late," a
writer in _Applebee's Journal_ says in 1725, "been taken in much by the
women, especially the political ladies, to assist at the tea-table."
Defoe seems to have taken an active part in making _Mist's Journal_ and
_Applebee's Journal_, both Tory organs, suitable for this more frivolous
section of the public. This fell in with his purpose of diminishing the
political weight of these journals, and at the same time increased their
sale. He converted them from rabid party agencies into registers of
domestic news and vehicles of social disquisitions, sometimes grave,
sometimes gay in subject, but uniformly bright and spirited in tone.

The raw materials of several of Defoe's elaborate tales, such as _Moll
Flanders_ and _Colonel Jack_, are to be found in the columns of _Mist's_
and _Applebee's_. In connexion with _Applebee's_ more particularly,
Defoe went some way towards anticipating the work of the modern Special
Correspondent. He apparently interviewed distinguished criminals in
Newgate, and extracted from them the stories of their lives. Part of
what he thus gathered he communicated to _Applebee_; sometimes, when the
notoriety of the case justified it, he drew up longer narratives and
published them separately as pamphlets. He was an adept in the art of
puffing his own productions, whether books or journals. It may be
doubted whether any American editor ever mastered this art more
thoroughly than Defoe. Nothing, for instance, could surpass the boldness
of Defoe's plan for directing public attention to his narrative of the
robberies and escapes of Jack Sheppard. He seems to have taken a
particular interest in this daring gaol-breaker. Mr. Lee, in fact, finds
evidence that he had gained Sheppard's affectionate esteem. He certainly
turned his acquaintance to admirable account. He procured a letter for
_Applebee's Journal_ from Jack, with "kind love," and a copy of verses
of his own composition. Both letter and verses probably came from a more
practised pen, but, to avert suspicion, the original of the letter was
declared to be on view at Applebee's, and "well known to be in the
handwriting of John Sheppard." Next Defoe prepared a thrilling narrative
of Jack's adventures, which was of course described as written by the
prisoner himself, and printed at his particular desire. But this was not
all. The artful author further arranged that when Sheppard reached his
place of execution, he should send for a friend to the cart as he stood
under the gibbet, and deliver a copy of the pamphlet as his last speech
and dying confession. A paragraph recording this incident was duly
inserted in the newspapers. It is a crowning illustration of the
inventive daring with which Defoe practised the tricks of his trade.

One of Defoe's last works in connection with journalism was to write a
prospectus for a new weekly periodical, the _Universal Spectator_, which
was started by his son-in-law, Henry Baker, in October, 1728. There is
more than internal and circumstantial evidence that this prospectus was
Defoe's composition. When Baker retired from the paper five years
afterwards, he drew up a list of the articles which had appeared under
his editorship, with the names of the writers attached. This list has
been preserved, and from it we learn that the first number, containing a
prospectus and an introductory essay on the qualifications of a good
writer, was written by Defoe. That experienced journalist naturally
tried to give an air of novelty to the enterprise. "If this paper," the
first sentence runs, "was not intended to be what no paper at present
is, we should never attempt to crowd in among such a throng of public
writers as at this time oppress the town." In effect the scheme of the
_Universal Spectator_ was to revive the higher kind of periodical essays
which made the reputation of the earlier _Spectator_. Attempts to follow
in the wake of Addison and Steele had for so long ceased to be features
in journalism; their manner had been so effectually superseded by less
refined purveyors of light literature--Defoe himself going heartily with
the stream--that the revival was opportune, and in point of fact proved
successful, the _Universal Spectator_ continuing to exist for nearly
twenty years. It shows how quickly the _Spectator_ took its place among
the classics, that the writer of the prospectus considered it necessary
to deprecate a charge of presumption in seeming to challenge comparison.

"Let no man envy us the celebrated title we have assumed,
or charge us with arrogance, as if we bid the world expect
great things from us. Must we have no power to please, unless
we come up to the full height of those inimitable performances?
Is there no wit or humour left because they are
gone? Is the spirit of the _Spectators_ all lost, and their mantle
fallen upon nobody? Have they said all that can be
said? Has the world offered no variety, and presented no
new scenes, since they retired from us? Or did they leave
off, because they were quite exhausted, and had no more to
say?"

Defoe did not always speak so respectfully of the authors of the
_Spectator_. If he had been asked why they left off, he would probably
have given the reason contained in the last sentence, and backed his
opinion by contemptuous remarks about the want of fertility in the
scholarly brain. He himself could have gone on producing for ever; he
was never gravelled for lack of matter, had no nice ideas about manner,
and was sometimes sore about the superior respectability of those who
had. But here he was on business, addressing people who looked back
regretfully from the vulgarity of _Mist's_ and _Applebee's_ to the
refinement of earlier periodicals, and making a bid for their custom. A
few more sentences from his advertisement will show how well he
understood their prejudices:--

"The main design of this work is, to turn your thoughts a
little off from the clamour of contending parties, which has
so long surfeited you with their ill-timed politics, and restore
your taste to things truly superior and sublime."

"In order to this, we shall endeavour to present you with
such subjects as are capable, if well handled, both to divert
and to instruct you; such as shall render conversation pleasant,
and help to make mankind agreeable to one another."

"As for our management of them, not to promise too much
for ourselves, we shall only say we hope, at least, to make our
work acceptable to everybody, because we resolve, if possible,
to displease nobody."

"We assure the world, by way of negative, that we shall
engage in no quarrels, meddle with no parties, deal in no scandal,
nor endeavour to make any men merry at the expense of
their neighbours. In a word, we shall set nobody together
by the ears. And though we have encouraged the ingenious
world to correspond with us by letters, we hope they will not
take it ill, that we say beforehand, no letters will be taken
notice of by us which contain any personal reproaches, intermeddle
with family breaches, or tend to scandal or indecency
of any kind."

"The current papers are more than sufficient to carry on all
the dirty work the town can have for them to do; and what
with party strife, politics, poetic quarrels, and all the other
consequences of a wrangling age, they are in no danger of
wanting employment; and those readers who delight in such
things, may divert themselves there. But our views, as is
said above, lie another way."

Good writing is what Defoe promises the readers of the _Universal
Spectator_, and this leads him to consider what particular
qualifications go to the composition, or, in a word, "what is required
to denominate a man a _good writer_". His definition is worth quoting as
a statement of his principles of composition.

"One says this is a polite author; another says, that is an
excellent _good writer_; and generally we find some oblique
strokes pointed sideways at themselves; intimating that
whether we think fit to allow it or not, they take themselves
to be very _good writers_. And, indeed, I must excuse them
their vanity; for if a poor author had not some good opinion
of himself, especially when under the discouragement of having
nobody else to be of his mind, he would never write at
all; nay, he could not; it would take off all the little dull
edge that his pen might have on it before, and he would not
be able to say one word to the purpose."

"Now whatever may be the lot of this paper, be that as
common fame shall direct, yet without entering into the
enquiry who writes better, or who writes worse, I shall lay
down one specific, by which you that read shall impartially
determine who are, or are not, to be called _good writers_. In a
word, the character of a good writer, wherever he is to be
found, is this, viz., that he writes so as to please and serve at
the same time."

"If he writes to _please_, and not to _serve_, he is a flatterer and
a hypocrite; if to _serve_ and not to _please_, he turns cynic and
satirist. The first deals in smooth falsehood, the last in
rough scandal; the last may do some good, though little;
the first does no good, and may do mischief, not a little; the
last provokes your rage, the first provokes your pride; and in
a word either of them is hurtful rather than useful. But the
writer that strives to be useful, writes to _serve_ you, and at
the same time, by an imperceptible art, draws you on to be
pleased also. He represents truth with plainness, virtue with
praise; he even reprehends with a softness that carries the
force of a satire without the salt of it; and he insensibly
screws himself into your good opinion, that as his writings
merit your regard, so they fail not to obtain it."

"This is part of the character by which I define a good
writer; I say 'tis but part of it, for it is not a half sheet that
would contain the full description; a large volume would
hardly suffice it. His fame requires, indeed, a very good
writer to give it due praise; and for that reason (and a good
reason too) I go no farther with it."

CHAPTER IX.

THE PLACE OF DEFOE'S FICTIONS IN HIS LIFE.

Those of my readers who have thought of Defoe only as a writer of
stories which young and old still love to read, must not be surprised
that so few pages of this little book should be left for an account of
his work in that field. No doubt Defoe's chief claim to the world's
interest is that he is the author of _Robinson Crusoe_. But there is
little to be said about this or any other of Defoe's tales in
themselves. Their art is simple, unique, incommunicable, and they are
too well known to need description. On the other hand, there is much
that is worth knowing and not generally known about the relation of
these works to his life, and the place that they occupy in the sum total
of his literary activity. Hundreds of thousands since Defoe's death, and
millions in ages to come, would never have heard his name but for
_Robinson Crusoe_. To his contemporaries the publication of that work
was but a small incident in a career which for twenty years had claimed
and held their interest. People in these days are apt to imagine,
because Defoe wrote the most fascinating of books for children, that he
was himself simple, child-like, frank, open, and unsuspecting. He has
been so described by more than one historian of literature. It was not
so that he appeared to his contemporaries, and it is not so that he can
appear to us when we know his life, unless we recognise that he took a
child's delight in beating with their own weapons the most astute
intriguers in the most intriguing period of English history.

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