CHAPTER VI.

DR. SACHEVERELL, AND THE CHANGE OF GOVERNMENT.

Some of Defoe's biographers have claimed for him that he anticipated the

doctrines of Free Trade. This is an error. It is true that Defoe was

never tired of insisting, in pamphlets, books, and number after number

of the _Review_, on the all-importance of trade to the nation. Trade was

the foundation of England's greatness; success in trade was the most

honourable patent of nobility; next to the maintenance of the Protestant

religion, the encouragement of trade should be the chief care of English

statesmen. On these heads Defoe's enthusiasm was boundless, and his

eloquence inexhaustible. It is true also that he supported with all his

might the commercial clauses of the Treaty of Utrecht, which sought to

abolish the prohibitory duties on our trade with France. It is this last

circumstance which has earned for him the repute of being a pioneer of

Free Trade. But his title to that repute does not bear examination. He

was not so far in advance of his age as to detect the fallacy of the

mercantile system. On the contrary, he avowed his adherence to it

against those of his contemporaries who were inclined to call it in

question. How Defoe came to support the new commercial treaty with

France, and the grounds on which he supported it, can only be understood

by looking at his relations with the Government.

While Defoe was living in Scotland in 1707, and filling the _Review_ so

exclusively with Scotch affairs that his readers, according to his own

account, began to say that the fellow could talk of nothing but the

Union, and had grown mighty dull of late, Harley's position in the

Ministry was gradually becoming very insecure. He was suspected of

cooling in his zeal for the war, and of keeping up clandestine relations

with the Tories; and when Marlborough returned from his campaign at the

close of the year he insisted upon the Secretary's dismissal. The Queen,

who secretly resented the Marlborough yoke, at first refused her

consent. Presently an incident occurred which gave them an excuse for

more urgent pressure. One Gregg, a clerk in Harley's office, was

discovered to be in secret correspondence with the French Court,

furnishing Louis with the contents of important State papers. Harley was

charged with complicity. This charge was groundless, but he could not

acquit himself of gross negligence in the custody of his papers.

Godolphin and Marlborough threatened to resign unless he was dismissed.

Then the Queen yielded.

When Harley fell, Defoe, according to his own account, in the _Appeal to

Honour and Justice_, looked upon himself as lost, taking it for granted

that "when a great officer fell, all who came in by his interest fall

with him." But when his benefactor heard of this, and of Defoe's

"resolution never to abandon the fortunes of the man to whom he owed so

much," he kindly urged the devoted follower to think rather of his own

interest than of any romantic obligation. "My lord Treasurer," he said,

"will employ you in nothing but what is for the public service, and

agreeably to your own sentiments of things; and besides, it is the Queen

you are serving, who has been very good to you. Pray apply yourself as

you used to do; I shall not take it ill from you in the least." To

Godolphin accordingly Defoe applied himself, was by him introduced a

second time to Her Majesty and to the honour of kissing her hand, and

obtained "the continuance of an appointment which Her Majesty had been

pleased to make him in consideration of a former special service he had

done." This was the appointment which he held while he was challenging

his enemies to say whether his outward circumstances looked like the

figure the agents of Courts and Princes make.

The services on which Defoe was employed were, as before, of two kinds,

active and literary. Shortly after the change in the Ministry early in

1708, news came of the gathering of the French expedition at Dunkirk,

with a view, it was suspected, of trying to effect a landing in

Scotland. Defoe was at once despatched to Edinburgh on an errand which,

he says, was "far from being unfit for a sovereign to direct or an

honest man to perform." If his duties were to mix with the people and

ascertain the state of public feeling, and more specifically to sound

suspected characters, to act, in short, as a political detective or spy,

the service was one which it was essential that the Government should

get some trustworthy person to undertake, and which any man at such a

crisis might perform, if he could, without any discredit to his honesty

or his patriotism. The independence of the sea-girt realm was never in

greater peril. The French expedition was a well-conceived diversion, and

it was imperative that the Government should know on what amount of

support the invaders might rely in the bitterness prevailing in Scotland

after the Union. Fortunately the loyalty of the Scotch Jacobites was not

put to the test. As in the case of the Spanish Armada, accident fought

on our side. The French fleet succeeded in reaching the coast of

Scotland before the ships of the defenders; but it overshot its arranged

landing-point, and had no hope but to sail back ingloriously to Dunkirk.

Meantime, Defoe had satisfactorily discharged himself of his mission.

Godolphin showed his appreciation of his services by recalling him as

soon as Parliament was dissolved, to travel through the counties and

serve the cause of the Government in the general elections. He was

frequently sent to Scotland again on similarly secret errands, and seems

to have established a printing business there, made arrangements for the

simultaneous issue of the _Review_ in Edinburgh and London, besides

organizing Edinburgh newspapers, executing commissions for English

merchants, and setting on foot a linen manufactory.

But we are more concerned with the literary labors of this versatile and

indefatigable genius. These, in the midst of his multifarious commercial

and diplomatic concerns, he never intermitted. All the time the _Review_

continued to give a brilliant support to the Ministry. The French

expedition had lent a new interest to the affairs of Scotland, and Defoe

advertised, that though he never intended to make the _Review_ a

newspaper, circumstances enabled him to furnish exceptionally correct

intelligence from Scotland as well as sound impartial opinions. The

intelligence which he communicated was all with a purpose, and a good

purpose--the promotion of a better understanding between the united

nations. He never had a better opportunity for preaching from his

favourite text of Peace and Union, and he used it characteristically,

championing the cause of the Scotch Presbyterians, asserting the

firmness of their loyalty, smoothing over trading grievances by showing

elaborately how both sides benefited from the arrangements of the Union,

launching shafts in every direction at his favourite butts, and never

missing a chance of exulting in his own superior wisdom. In what a

posture would England have been now, he cried, if those wiseacres had

been listened to, who were for trusting the defence of England solely to

the militia and the fleet! Would our fleet have kept the French from

landing if Providence had not interposed; and if they had landed, would

a militia, undermined by disaffection, have been able to beat them back?

The French king deserved a vote of thanks for opening the eyes of the

nation against foolish advisers, and for helping it to heal internal

divisions. Louis, poor gentleman, was much to be pitied, for his

informers had evidently served him badly, and had led him to expect a

greater amount of support from disloyal factions than they had the will

or the courage to give him.

During the electoral canvass, Defoe surpassed himself in the lively

vigour of his advocacy of the Whig cause. "And now, gentlemen of

England," he began in the _Review_--as it went on he became more and

more direct and familiar in his manner of addressing his readers--"now

we are a-going to choose Parliament men, I will tell you a story." And

he proceeded to tell how in a certain borough a great patron procured

the election of a "shock dog" as its parliamentary representative. Money

and ale, Defoe says, could do anything. "God knows I speak it with

regret for you all and for your posterity, it is not an impossible thing

to debauch this nation into a choice of thieves, knaves, devils, shock

dogs, or anything comparatively speaking, by the power of various

intoxications." He spent several numbers of the _Review_ in an ironical

advice to the electors to choose Tories, showing with all his skill

"the mighty and prevailing reason why we should have a Tory

Parliament." "O gentlemen," he cried, "if we have any mind to buy some

more experience, be sure and choose Tories." "We want a little

instruction, we want to go to school to knaves and fools." Afterwards,

dropping this thin mask, he declared that among the electors only "the

drunken, the debauched, the swearing, the persecuting" would vote for

the High-fliers. "The grave, the sober, the thinking, the prudent,"

would vote for the Whigs. "A House of Tories is a House of Devils." "If

ever we have a Tory Parliament, the nation is undone." In his _Appeal to

Honour and Justice_ Defoe explained, that while he was serving

Godolphin, "being resolved to remove all possible ground of suspicion

that he kept any secret correspondence, he never visited, or wrote to,

or any way corresponded with his principal benefactor for above three

years." Seeing that Harley was at that time the leader of the party

which Defoe was denouncing with such spirit, it would have been strange

indeed if there had been much intercourse between them.

Though regarded after his fall from office as the natural leader of the

Tory party, Harley was a very reserved politician, who kept his own

counsel, used instruments of many shapes and sizes, steered clear of

entangling engagements, and left himself free to take advantage of

various opportunities. To wage war against the Ministry was the work of

more ardent partisans. He stood by and waited while Bolingbroke and

Rochester and their allies in the press cried out that the Government

was now in the hands of the enemies of the Church, accused the Whigs of

protracting the war to fill their own pockets with the plunder of the

Supplies, and called upon the nation to put an end to their jobbery and

mismanagement. The victory of Oudenarde in the summer of 1708 gave them

a new handle. "What is the good," they cried, "of these glorious

victories, if they do not bring peace? What do we gain by beating the

French in campaign after campaign, if we never bring them nearer to

submission? It is incredible that the French King is not willing to make

peace, if the Whigs did not profit too much by the war to give peace any

encouragement." To these arguments for peace, Defoe opposed himself

steadily in the _Review_. "Well, gentlemen." he began, when the news

came of the battle of Oudenarde, "have the French noosed themselves

again? Let us pray the Duke of Marlborough that a speedy peace may not

follow, for what would become of us?" He was as willing for a peace on

honourable terms as any man, but a peace till the Protestant Succession

was secured and the balance of power firmly settled, "would be fatal to

peace at home." "If that fatal thing called Peace abroad should happen,

we shall certainly be undone." Presently, however, the French King began

to make promising overtures for peace; the Ministry, in hopes of

satisfactory terms, encouraged them; the talk through the nation was all

of peace, and the Whigs contented themselves with passing an address to

the Crown through Parliament urging the Queen to make no peace till the

Pretender should be disowned by the French Court, and the Succession

guaranteed by a compact with the Allies. Throughout the winter the

_Review_ expounded with brilliant clearness the only conditions on which

an honourable peace could be founded, and prepared the nation to doubt

the sincerity with which Louis had entered into negotiations. Much

dissatisfaction was felt, and that dissatisfaction was eagerly fanned by

the Tories when the negotiations fell through, in consequence of the

distrust with which the allies regarded Louis, and their imposing upon

him too hard a test of his honesty. Defoe fought vigorously against the

popular discontent. The charges against Marlborough were idle

rhodomontade. We had no reason to be discouraged with the progress of

the war unless we had formed extravagant expectations. Though the French

King's resources had been enfeebled, and he might reasonably have been

expected to desire peace, he did not care for the welfare of France so

much as for his own glory; he would fight to gain his purpose while

there was a pistole in his treasury, and we must not expect Paris to be

taken in a week. Nothing could be more admirable than Godolphin's

management of our own Treasury; he deserved almost more credit than the

Duke himself. "Your Treasurer has been your general of generals; without

his exquisite management of the cash the Duke of Marlborough must have

been beaten."

The Sacheverell incident, which ultimately led to the overthrow of the

Ministry, gave Defoe a delightful opening for writing in their defence.

A collection of his articles on this subject would show his

controversial style at its best and brightest. Sacheverell and he were

old antagonists. Sacheverell's "bloody flag and banner of defiance," and

other High-flying truculencies, had furnished him with the main basis of

his _Shortest Way with the Dissenters_. The laugh of the populace was

then on Defoe's side, partly, perhaps, because the Government had

prosecuted him. But in the changes of the troubled times, the Oxford

Doctor, nurtured in "the scolding of the ancients," had found a more

favourable opportunity. His literary skill was of the most mechanical

kind; but at the close of 1709, when hopes of peace had been raised only

to be disappointed, and the country was suffering from the distress of a

prolonged war, people were more in a mood to listen to a preacher who

disdained to check the sweep of his rhetoric by qualifications or

abatements, and luxuriated in denouncing the Queen's Ministers from the

pulpit under scriptural allegories. He delivered a tremendous philippic

about the Perils of False Brethren, as a sermon before the Lord Mayor in

November. It would have been a wise thing for the Ministry to have left

Sacheverell to be dealt with by their supporters in the press and in the

pulpit. But in an evil hour Godolphin, stung by a nickname thrown at him

by the rhetorical priest--a singularly comfortable-looking man to have

so virulent a tongue, one of those orators who thrive on ill-conditioned

language--resolved, contrary to the advice of more judicious colleagues,

to have him impeached by the House of Commons. The Commons readily voted

the sermon seditious, scandalous, and malicious, and agreed to a

resolution for his impeachment; the Lords ordered that the case should

be heard at their bar; and Westminster Hall was prepared to be the scene

of a great public trial. At first Defoe, in heaping contemptuous

ridicule upon the High-flying Doctor, had spoken as if he would consider

prosecution a blunder. The man ought rather to be encouraged to go on

exposing himself and his party. "Let him go on," he said, "to bully

Moderation, explode Toleration, and damn the Union; the gain will be

ours."

"You should use him as we do a hot horse. When he

first frets and pulls, keep a stiff rein and hold him in if you

can; but if he grows mad and furious, slack your hand, clap

your heels to him, and let him go. Give him his belly full

of it. Away goes the beast like a fury over hedge and ditch,

till he runs himself off his mettle; perhaps bogs himself, and

then he grows quiet of course.... Besides, good people, do

you not know the nature of the barking creatures? If you

pass but by, and take no notice, they will yelp and make a noise,

and perhaps run a little after you; but turn back, offer to strike them

or throw stones at them, and you'll never have done--nay, you'll raise

all the dogs of the parish upon you."

This last was precisely what the Government did, and they found reason

to regret that they did not take Defoe's advice and let Sacheverell

alone. When, however, they did resolve to prosecute him, Defoe

immediately turned round, and exulted in the prosecution, as the very

thing which he had foreseen. "Was not the _Review_ right when he said

you ought to let such people run on till they were out of breath? Did I

not note to you that precipitations have always ruined them and served

us?... Not a hound in the pack opened like him. He has done the work

effectually.... He has raised the house and waked the landlady.... Thank

him, good people, thank him and clap him on the back; let all his party

do but this, and the day is our own." Nor did Defoe omit to remind the

good people that he had been put in the pillory for satirically hinting

that the High-Church favored such doctrines as Sacheverell was now

prosecuted for. In his _Hymn to the Pillory_ he had declared that

Sacheverell ought to stand there in his place. His wish was now

gratified; "the bar of the House of Commons is the worst pillory in the

nation." In the two months which elapsed before the trial, during which

the excitement was steadily growing, Sacheverell and his doctrines were

the main topic of the _Review_. If a popular tempest could have been

allayed by brilliant argument, Defoe's papers ought to have done it. He

was a manly antagonist, and did not imitate coarser pamphleteers in

raking up scandals about the Doctor's private life--at least not under

his own name. There was, indeed, a pamphlet issued by "a Gentleman of

Oxford," which bears many marks of Defoe's authorship, and contains an

account of some passages in Sacheverell's life not at all to the

clergyman's credit. But the only pamphlet outside the _Review_ which the

biographers have ascribed to Defoe's activity, is a humorous Letter from

the Pope to Don Sacheverellio, giving him instructions how to advance

the interest of the Pretender. In the _Review_ Defoe, treating

Sacheverell with riotously mirthful contempt, calls for the punishment

of the doctrines rather than the man. During the trial, which lasted

more than a fortnight, a mob attended the Doctor's carriage every day

from his lodgings in the Temple to Westminster Hall, huzzaing, and

pressing to kiss his hand, and spent the evenings in rabbling the

Dissenters' meeting-houses, and hooting before the residences of

prominent Whigs. Defoe had always said that the High-fliers would use

violence to their opponents if they had the power, and here was a

confirmation of his opinion on which he did not fail to insist. The

sentence on Sacheverell, that his sermon and vindication should be burnt

by the common hangman and himself suspended from preaching for three

years, was hailed by the mob as an acquittal, and celebrated by

tumultuous gatherings and bonfires. Defoe reasoned hard and joyfully to

prove that the penalty was everything that could be wished, and exactly

what he had all along advised and contemplated, but he did not succeed

in persuading the masses that the Government had not suffered a defeat.

The impeachment of Sacheverell turned popular feeling violently against

the Whigs. The break up of the Gertruydenberg Conference without peace

gave a strong push in the same direction. It was all due, the Tories

shouted, and the people were now willing to believe, to the folly of our

Government in insisting upon impossible conditions from the French

King, and their shameless want of patriotism in consulting the interests

of the Allies rather than of England. The Queen, who for some time had

been longing to get rid of her Whig Ministers, did not at once set sail

with this breeze. She dismissed the Earl of Sunderland in June, and sent

word to her allies that she meant to make no further changes. Their

ambassadors, with what was even then resented as an impertinence,

congratulated her on this resolution, and then in August she took the

momentous step of dismissing Godolphin, and putting the Treasury

nominally in commission, but really under the management of Harley. For

a few weeks it seems to have been Harley's wish to conduct the

administration in concert with the remaining Whig members, but the

extreme Tories, with whom he had been acting, overbore his moderate

intentions. They threatened to desert him unless he broke clearly and

definitely with the Whigs. In October accordingly the Whigs were all

turned out of the Administration, Tories put in their places, Parliament

dissolved, and writs issued for new elections. "So sudden and entire a

change of the Ministry," Bishop Burnet remarks, "is scarce to be found

in our history, especially where men of great abilities had served both

with zeal and success." That the Queen should dismiss one or all of her

Ministers in the face of a Parliamentary majority excited no surprise;

but that the whole Administration should be changed at a stroke from one

party to the other was a new and strange thing. The old Earl of

Sunderland's suggestion to William III. had not taken root in

constitutional practice; this was the fulfilment of it under the gradual

pressure of circumstances.

Defoe's conduct while the political balance was rocking, and after the

Whig side had decisively kicked the beam, is a curious study. One

hardly knows which to admire most, the loyalty with which he stuck to

the falling house till the moment of its collapse, or the adroitness

with which he escaped from the ruins. Censure of his shiftiness is

partly disarmed by the fact that there were so many in that troubled and

uncertain time who would have acted like him if they had had the skill.

Besides, he acted so steadily and with such sleepless vigilance and

energy on the principle that the appearance of honesty is the best

policy, that at this distance of time it is not easy to catch him

tripping, and if we refuse to be guided by the opinion of his

contemporaries, we almost inevitably fall victims to his incomparable

plausibility. Deviations in his political writings from the course of

the honest patriot are almost as difficult to detect as flaws in the

verisimilitude of _Robinson Crusoe_ or the _Journal of the Plague_.

During the two months' interval between the substitution of Dartmouth

for Sunderland and the fall of Godolphin, Defoe used all his powers of

eloquence and argument to avert the threatened changes in the Ministry,

and keep the Tories out. He had a personal motive for this, he

confessed. "My own share in the ravages they shall make upon our

liberties is like to be as severe as any man's, from the rage and fury

of a party who are in themselves implacable, and whom God has not been

pleased to bless me with a talent to flatter and submit to." Of the

dismissed minister Sunderland, with whom Defoe had been in personal

relations during the negotiations for the Union, he spoke in terms of

the warmest praise, always with a formal profession of not challenging

the Queen's judgment in discharging her servant. "My Lord Sunderland,"

he said, "leaves the Ministry with the most unblemished character that

ever I read of any statesman in the world." "I am making no court to my

Lord Sunderland. The unpolished author of this paper never had the

talent of making his court to the great men of the age." But where is

the objection against his conduct? Not a dog of the party can bark

against him. "They cannot show me a man of their party that ever did act

like him, or of whom they can say we should believe he would if he had

the opportunity." The Tories were clamouring for the dismissal of all

the other Whigs. High-Church addresses to the Queen were pouring in,

claiming to represent the sense of the nation, and hinting an absolute

want of confidence in the Administration. Defoe examined the conduct of

the ministers severally and collectively, and demanded where was the

charge against them, where the complaint, where the treasure misapplied?

As for the sense of the nation, there was one sure way of testing this

better than any got-up addresses, namely, the rise or fall of the public

credit. The public stocks fell immediately on the news of Sunderland's

dismissal, and were only partially revived upon Her Majesty's assurance

to the Directors of the Bank that she meant to keep the Ministry

otherwise unchanged. A rumour that Parliament was to be dissolved had

sent them down again. If the public credit is thus affected by the mere

apprehension of a turn of affairs in England, Defoe said, the thing

itself will be a fatal blow to it. The coy Lady Credit had been wavering

in her attachment to England; any sudden change would fright her away

altogether. As for the pooh-pooh cry of the Tories that the national

credit was of no consequence, that a nation could not be in debt to

itself, and that their moneyed men would come forward with nineteen

shillings in the pound for the support of the war, Defoe treated this

claptrap with proper ridicule.

But in spite of all Defoe's efforts, the crash came. On the 10th of

August the Queen sent to Godolphin for the Treasurer's staff, and Harley

became her Prime Minister. How did Defoe behave then? The first two

numbers of the _Review_ after the Lord Treasurer's fall are among the

most masterly of his writings. He was not a small, mean, timid

time-server and turncoat. He faced about with bold and steady caution,

on the alert to give the lie to anybody who dared to accuse him of

facing about at all. He frankly admitted that he was in a quandary what

to say about the change that had taken place. "If a man could be found

that could sail north and south, that could speak truth and falsehood,

that could turn to the right hand and the left, all at the same time, he

would be the man, he would be the only proper person that should now

speak." Of one thing only he was certain. "We are sure honest men go

out." As for their successors, "it is our business to hope, and time

must answer for those that come in. If Tories, if Jacobites, if

High-fliers, if madmen of any kind are to come in, I am against them; I

ask them no favour, I make no court to them, nor am I going about to

please them." But the question was, what was to be done in the

circumstances? Defoe stated plainly two courses, with their respective

dangers. To cry out about the new Ministry was to ruin public credit. To

profess cheerfulness was to encourage the change and strengthen the

hands of those that desired to push it farther. On the whole, for

himself he considered the first danger the most to be dreaded of the

two. Therefore he announced his intention of devoting his whole energy

to maintaining the public credit, and advised all true Whigs to do

likewise. "Though I don't like the crew, I won't sink the ship. I'll do

my best to save the ship. I'll pump and heave and haul, and do anything

I can, though he that pulls with me were my enemy. The reason is plain.

We are all in the ship, and must sink or swim together."

What could be more plausible? What conduct more truly patriotic? Indeed,

it would be difficult to find fault with Defoe's behaviour, were it not

for the rogue's protestations of inability to court the favour of great

men, and his own subsequent confessions in his _Appeal to Honour and

Justice_, as to what took place behind the scenes. Immediately on the

turn of affairs he took steps to secure that connexion with the

Government, the existence of which he was always denying. The day after

Godolphin's displacement, he tells us, he waited on him, and "humbly

asked his lordship's direction what course he should take." Godolphin at

once assured him, in very much the same words that Harley had used

before, that the change need make no difference to him; he was the

Queen's servant, and all that had been done for him was by Her Majesty's

special and particular direction; his business was to wait till he saw

things settled, and then apply himself to the Ministers of State to

receive Her Majesty's commands from them. Thereupon Defoe resolved to

guide himself by the following principle:--

"It occurred to me immediately, as a principle for my conduct,

that it was not material to me what ministers Her Majesty

was pleased to employ; my duty was to go along with

every Ministry, so far as they did not break in upon the Constitution,

and the laws and liberties of my country; my part

being only the duty of a subject, viz., to submit to all lawful

commands, and to enter into no service which was not justifiable

by the laws; to all which I have exactly obliged myself."

Defoe was thus, as he says, providentially cast back upon his original

benefactor. That he received any consideration, pension, gratification,

or reward for his services to Harley, "except that old appointment which

Her Majesty was pleased to make him," he strenuously denied. The denial

is possibly true, and it is extremely probable that he was within the

truth when he protested in the most solemn manner that he had never

"received any instructions, directions, orders, or let them call it what

they will, of that kind, for the writing of any part of what he had

written, or any materials for the putting together, for the forming any

book or pamphlet whatsoever, from the said Earl of Oxford, late Lord

Treasurer, or from any person by his order or direction, since the time

that the late Earl of Godolphin was Lord Treasurer." Defoe declared that

"in all his writing, he ever capitulated for his liberty to speak

according to his own judgment of things," and we may easily believe him.

He was much too clever a servant to need instructions.

His secret services to Harley in the new elections are probably buried

in oblivion. In the _Review_ he pursued a strain which to the reader who

does not take his articles in connexion with the politics of the time,

might appear to be thoroughly consistent with his advice to the electors

on previous occasions. He meant to confine himself, he said at starting,

rather to the manner of choosing than to the persons to be chosen, and

he never denounced bribery, intimidation, rioting, rabbling, and every

form of interference with the electors' freedom of choice, in more

energetic language. As regarded the persons to be chosen, his advice was

as before, to choose moderate men--men of sense and temper, not men of

fire and fury. But he no longer asserted, as he had done before, the

exclusive possession of good qualities by the Whigs. He now recognised

that there were hot Whigs as well as moderate Whigs, moderate Tories as

well as hot Tories. It was for the nation to avoid both extremes and

rally round the men of moderation, whether Whig or Tory. "If we have a

Tory High-flying Parliament, we Tories are undone. If we have a hot Whig

Parliament, we Whigs are undone."

The terms of Defoe's advice were unexceptionable, but the Whigs

perceived a change from the time when he declared that if ever we have a

Tory Parliament the nation is undone. It was as if a Republican writer,

after the _coup d'état_ of the 16th May, 1877, had warned the French

against electing extreme Republicans, and had echoed the

Marshal-President's advice to give their votes to moderate men of all

parties. Defoe did not increase the conviction of his party loyalty when

a Tory Parliament was returned, by trying to prove that whatever the new

members might call themselves, they must inevitably be Whigs. He

admitted in the most unqualified way that the elections had been

disgracefully riotous and disorderly, and lectured the constituencies

freely on their conduct. "It is not," he said, "a Free Parliament that

you have chosen. You have met, mobbed, rabbled, and thrown dirt at one

another, but election by mob is no more free election than Oliver's

election by a standing army. Parliaments and rabbles are contrary

things." Yet he had hopes of the gentlemen who had been thus chosen.

"I have it upon many good grounds, as I think I told you,

that there are some people who are shortly to come together,

of whose character, let the people that send them up think

what they will, when they come thither they will not run the

mad length that is expected of them; they will act upon the

Revolution principle, keep within the circle of the law, proceed

with temper, moderation, and justice, to support the

same interest we have all carried on--and this I call being

Whiggish, or acting as Whigs."

"I shall not trouble you with further examining why they will be so, or

why they will act thus; I think it is so plain from the necessity of the

Constitution and the circumstances of things before them, that it needs

no further demonstration--they will be Whigs, they must be Whigs; there

is no remedy, for the Constitution is a Whig."

The new members of Parliament must either be Whigs or traitors, for

everybody who favours the Protestant succession is a Whig, and everybody

who does not is a traitor. Defoe used the same ingenuity in playing upon

words in his arguments in support of the public credit. Every true Whig,

he argued, in the _Review_ and in separate essays, was bound to uphold

the public credit, for to permit it to be impaired was the surest way to

let in the Pretender. The Whigs were accused of withdrawing their money

from the public stocks, to mark their distrust of the Government.

"Nonsense!" Defoe said, "in that case they would not be Whigs."

Naturally enough, as the _Review_ now practically supported a Ministry

in which extreme Tories had the predominance, he was upbraided for

having gone over to that party. "Why, gentlemen," he retorted, "it

would be more natural for you to think I am turned Turk than High-flier;

and to make me a Mahometan would not be half so ridiculous as to make me

say the Whigs are running down credit, when, on the contrary, I am still

satisfied if there were no Whigs at this time, there would hardly be any

such thing as credit left among us." "If the credit of the nation is to

be maintained, we must all act as Whigs, because credit can be

maintained upon no other foot. Had the doctrine of non-resistance of

tyranny been voted, had the Prerogative been exalted above the Law, and

property subjected to absolute will, would Parliament have voted the

funds? Credit supposes Whigs lending and a Whig Government borrowing. It

is nonsense to talk of credit and passive submission."

Had Defoe confined himself to lecturing those hot Whigs who were so

afraid of the secret Jacobitism of Harley's colleagues that they were

tempted to withdraw their money from the public stocks, posterity,

unable to judge how far these fears were justified, and how far it was

due to a happy accident that they were not realized, might have given

him credit for sacrificing partisanship to patriotism. This plea could

hardly be used for another matter in which, with every show of

reasonable fairness, he gave a virtual support to the Ministry. We have

seen how he spoke of Marlborough, and Godolphin's management of the army

and the finances when the Whigs were in office. When the Tories came in,

they at once set about redeeming their pledges to inquire into the

malversation of their predecessors. Concerning this proceeding, Defoe

spoke with an approval which, though necessarily guarded in view of his

former professions of extreme satisfaction, was none the less calculated

to recommend.

"Inquiry into miscarriages in things so famous and so

fatal as war and battle is a thing so popular that no man

can argue against it; and had we paid well, and hanged

well, much sooner, as some men had not been less in a condition

to mistake, so some others might not have been here

to find fault. But it is better late than never; when the inquiry

is set about heartily, it may be useful on several accounts,

both to unravel past errors and to prevent new. For

my part, as we have for many years past groaned for want

of justice upon wilful mistakes, yet, in hopes some of the careful

and mischievous designing gentlemen may come in for a

share, I am glad the work is begun."

With equal good humour and skill in leaving open a double

interpretation, he commented on the fact that the new Parliament did

not, as had been customary, give a formal vote of thanks to Marlborough

for his conduct of his last campaign.

"We have had a mighty pother here in print about rewarding

of generals. Some think great men too much rewarded,

and some think them too little rewarded. The case

is so nice, neither side will bear me to speak my mind; but

I am persuaded of this, that there is no general has or ever

will merit great things of us, but he has received and will

receive all the grateful acknowledgments he OUGHT to expect."

But his readers would complain that he had not defined the word "ought."

That, he said, with audacious pleasantry, he left to them. And while

they were on the subject of mismanagement, he would give them a word of

advice which he had often given them before. "While you bite and devour

one another, you are all mismanagers. Put an end to your factions, your

tumults, your rabbles, or you will not be able to make war upon

anybody." Previously, however, his way of making peace at home was to

denounce the High-fliers. He was still pursuing the same object, though

by a different course, now that the leaders of the High-fliers were in

office, when he declared that "those Whigs who say that the new Ministry

is entirely composed of Tories and High-fliers are fool-Whigs." The

remark was no doubt perfectly true, but yet if Defoe had been thoroughly

consistent he ought at least, instead of supporting the Ministry on

account of the small moderate element it contained, to have urged its

purification from dangerous ingredients.

This, however, it must be admitted, he also did, though indirectly and

at a somewhat later stage, when Harley's tenure of the Premiership was

menaced by High-fliers who thought him much too lukewarm a leader. A

"cave," the famous October Club, was formed in the autumn of 1711, to

urge more extreme measures upon the ministry against Whig officials, and

to organize a High-Church agitation throughout the country. It consisted

chiefly of country squires, who wished to see members of the late

Ministry impeached, and the Duke of Marlborough dismissed from the

command of the army. At Harley's instigation Swift wrote an "advice" to

these hot partisans, beseeching them to have patience and trust the

Ministry, and everything that they wished would happen in due time.

Defoe sought to break their ranks by a direct onslaught in his most

vigorous style, denouncing them in the _Review_ as Jacobites in disguise

and an illicit importation from France, and writing their "secret

history," "with some friendly characters of the illustrious members of

that honourable society" in two separate tracts. This skirmish served

the double purpose of strengthening Harley against the reckless zealots

of his party, and keeping up Defoe's appearance of impartiality.

Throughout the fierce struggle of parties, never so intense in any

period of our history as during those years when the Constitution itself

hung in the balance, it was as a True-born Englishman first and a Whig

and Dissenter afterwards, that Defoe gave his support to the Tory

Ministry. It may not have been his fault; he may have been most unjustly

suspected; but nobody at the time would believe his protestations of

independence. When his former High-flying persecutor, the Earl of

Nottingham, went over to the Whigs, and with their acquiescence, or at

least without their active opposition, introduced another Bill to put

down Occasional Conformity, Defoe wrote trenchantly against it. But even

then the Dissenters, as he loudly lamented, repudiated his alliance. The

Whigs were not so much pleased on this occasion with his denunciations

of the persecuting spirit of the High-Churchmen, as they were enraged by

his stinging taunts levelled at themselves for abandoning the Dissenters

to their persecutors. The Dissenters must now see, Defoe said, that they

would not be any better off under a Low-Church ministry than under a

High-Church ministry. But the Dissenters, considering that the Whigs

were too much in a minority to prevent the passing of the Bill, however

willing to do so, would only see in their professed champion an artful

supporter of the men in power.

A curious instance has been preserved of the estimate of Defoe's

character at this time.[2] M. Mesnager, an agent sent by the French King

to sound the Ministry and the country as to terms of peace, wanted an

able pamphleteer to promote the French interest. The Swedish Resident

recommended Defoe, who had just issued a tract, entitled _Reasons why

this Nation ought to put an end to this expensive War_. Mesnager was

delighted with the tract, at once had it translated into French and

circulated through the Netherlands, employed the Swede to treat with

Defoe, and sent him a hundred pistoles by way of earnest. Defoe kept the

pistoles, but told the Queen, M. Mesnager recording that though "he

missed his aim in this person, the money perhaps was not wholly lost;

for I afterwards understood that the man was in the service of the

state, and that he had let the Queen know of the hundred pistoles he had

received; so I was obliged to sit still, and be very well satisfied that

I had not discovered myself to him, for it was not our season yet." The

anecdote at once shows the general opinion entertained of Defoe, and the

fact that he was less corruptible than was supposed. There can be little

doubt that our astute intriguer would have outwitted the French emissary

if he had not been warned in time, pocketed his bribes, and wormed his

secrets out of him for the information of the Government.

[Footnote 2: I doubt whether it adds to the credibility of the story in

all points that the minutes of M. Mesnager's Negotiations were

"translated," and probably composed by Defoe himself. See p. 136.]

During Godolphin's Ministry, Defoe's cue had been to reason with the

nation against too impatient a longing for peace. Let us have peace by

all means, had been his text, but not till honourable terms have been

secured, and mean-time the war is going on as prosperously as any but

madmen can desire. He repeatedly challenged adversaries who compared

what he wrote then with what he wrote under the new Ministry, to prove

him guilty of inconsistency. He stood on safe ground when he made this

challenge, for circumstances had changed sufficiently to justify any

change of opinion. The plans of the Confederates were disarranged by the

death of the Emperor, and the accession of his brother, the Archduke

Charles, to the vacant crown. To give the crown of Spain in these new

circumstances to the Archduke, as had been the object of the Allies when

they began the war, would have been as dangerous to the balance of power

as to let Spain pass to Louis's grandson, Philip of Anjou. It would be

more dangerous, Defoe argued; and by far the safest course would be to

give Spain to Philip and his posterity, who "would be as much Spaniards

in a very short time, as ever Philip II. was or any of his other

predecessors." This was the main argument which had been used in the

latter days of King William against going to war at all, and Defoe had

then refuted it scornfully; but circumstances had changed, and he not

only adopted it, but also issued an essay "proving that it was always

the sense both of King William and of all the Confederates, and even of

the Grand Alliance itself, that the Spanish monarchy should never be

united in the person of the Emperor." Partition the Spanish dominions in

Europe between France and Germany, and the West Indies between England

and Holland--such was Defoe's idea of a proper basis of peace.

But while Defoe expounded in various forms the conditions of a good

peace, he devoted his main energy to proving that peace under some

conditions was a necessity. He dilated on the enormous expense of the

war, and showed by convincing examples that it was ruining the trade of

the country. Much that he said was perfectly true, but if he had taken

M. Mesnager's bribes and loyally carried out his instructions, he could

not more effectually have served the French King's interests than by

writing as he did at that juncture. The proclaimed necessity under which

England lay to make peace, offered Louis an advantage which he was not

slow to take. The proposals which he made at the Congress of Utrecht,

and which he had ascertained would be accepted by the English Ministry

and the Queen, were not unjustly characterised by the indignant Whigs as

being such as he might have made at the close of a successful war. The

territorial concessions to England and Holland were insignificant; the

States were to have the right of garrisoning certain barrier towns in

Flanders, and England was to have some portions of Canada. But there was

no mention of dividing the West Indies between them--the West Indies

were to remain attached to Spain. It was the restoration of their trade

that was their main desire in these great commercial countries, and even

that object Louis agreed to promote in a manner that seemed, according

to the ideas of the time, to be more to his own advantage than to

theirs. In the case of England, he was to remove prohibitions against

our imports, and in return we engaged to give the French imports the

privileges of the most favoured nations. In short, we were to have free

trade with France, which the commercial classes of the time looked upon

as a very doubtful blessing.

It is because Defoe wrote in favour of this free trade that he is

supposed to have been superior to the commercial fallacies of the time.

But a glance at his arguments shows that this is a very hasty inference.

It was no part of Defoe's art as a controversialist to seek to correct

popular prejudices; on the contrary, it was his habit to take them for

granted as the bases of his arguments, to work from them as premisses

towards his conclusion. He expressly avowed himself a prohibitionist in

principle.--

"I am far from being of their mind who say that all prohibitions

are destructive to trade, and that wise nations, the

Dutch, make no prohibitions at all."

"Where any nation has, by the singular blessing of God,

a produce given to their country from which such a manufacture

can be made as other nations cannot be without, and

none can make that produce but themselves, it would be distraction

in that nation not to prohibit the exportation of

that original produce till it is manufactured."

He had been taunted with flying in the face of what he had himself said

in King William's time in favour of prohibition. But he boldly

undertakes to prove that prohibition was absolutely necessary in King

William's time, and not only so, but that "the advantages we may make of

taking off a prohibition now are all founded upon the advantages we did

make of laying on a prohibition then: that the same reason which made a

prohibition then the best thing, makes it now the maddest thing a nation

could do or ever did in the matter of trade." In King William's time,

the balance of trade was against us to the extent of 850,000 l., in

consequence of the French King's laying extravagant duties upon the

import of all our woollen manufactures.

"Whoever thinks that by opening the French trade I

should mean ... that we should come to trade with them

850,000 _l. per annum_ to our loss, must think me as mad as I

think him for suggesting it; but if, on the contrary, I prove

that as we traded then 850,000 l. a year to our loss, we can

trade now with them 600,000 l. to our gain, then I will venture

to draw this consequence, that we are distracted, speaking

of our trading wits, if we do not trade with them."

In a preface to the Eighth Volume of the _Review_ (July 29, 1712), Defoe

announced his intention of discontinuing the publication, in consequence

of the tax then imposed on newspapers. We can hardly suppose that this

was his real motive, and as a matter of fact the _Review_, whose death

had been announced, reappeared in due course in the form of a single

leaf, and was published in that form till the 11th of June, 1713. By

that time a new project was on foot which Defoe had frequently declared

his intention of starting, a paper devoted exclusively to the discussion

of the affairs of trade. The _Review_ at one time had declared its main

subject to be trade, but had claimed a liberty of digression under which

the main subject had all but disappeared. At last, however, in May,

1713, when popular excitement and hot Parliamentary debates were

expected on the Commercial Treaty with France, an exclusively trading

paper was established, entitled _Mercator_. Defoe denied being the

author--that is, conductor or editor of this paper--and said that he had

not power to put what he would into it; which may have been literally

true. Every number, however, bears traces of his hand or guidance;

_Mercator_ is identical in opinions, style, and spirit with the

_Review_, differing only in the greater openness of its attacks upon the

opposition of the Whigs to the Treaty of Commerce. Party spirit was so

violent that summer, after the publication of the terms of the Treaty of

Utrecht, that Defoe was probably glad to shelter himself under the

responsibility of another name, he had flaunted the cloak of impartial

advice till it had become a thing of shreds and patches.

To prove that the balance of trade, in spite of a prevailing impression

to the contrary, not only might be, but had been, on the side of

England, was the chief purpose of _Mercator_. The Whig _Flying Post_

chaffed _Mercator_ for trying to reconcile impossibilities, but

_Mercator_ held stoutly on with an elaborate apparatus of comparative

tables of exports and imports, and ingenious schemes for the development

of various branches of the trade with France. Defoe was too fond of

carrying the war into the enemy's country, to attack prohibitions or the

received doctrine as to the balance of trade in principle; he fought the

enemy spiritedly on their own ground. "Take a medium of three years for

above forty years past, and calculate the exports and imports to and

from France, and it shall appear the balance of trade was always on the

English side, to the loss and disadvantage of the French." It followed,

upon the received commercial doctrines, that the French King was making

a great concession in consenting to take off high duties upon English

goods. This was precisely what Defoe was labouring to prove. "The French

King in taking off the said high duties ruins all his own manufactures."

The common belief was that the terms of peace would ruin English

manufacturing industry; full in the teeth of this, Defoe, as was his

daring custom, flung the paradox of the extreme opposite. On this

occasion he acted purely as a party writer. That he was never a

free-trader, at least in principle, will appear from the following

extract from his _Plan of the English Commerce_, published in 1728:--

"Seeing trade then is the fund of wealth and power, we

cannot wonder that we see the wisest Princes and States

anxious and concerned for the increase of the commerce and

trade of their subjects, and of the growth of the country;

anxious to propagate the sale of such goods as are the manufacture

of their own subjects, and that employs their own

people; especially of such as keep the money of their dominions

at home; and on the contrary, for prohibiting the importation

from abroad of such things as are the product of

other countries, and of the labour of other people, or which

carry money back in return, and not merchandise in exchange."

"Nor can we wonder that we see such Princes and States

endeavouring to set up such manufactures in their own countries,

which they see successfully and profitably carried on

by their neighbours, and to endeavour to procure the materials

proper for setting up those manufactures by all just and

possible methods from other countries."

"Hence we cannot blame the French or Germans for endeavouring

to get over the British wool into their hands, by

the help of which they may bring their people to imitate our

manufactures, which are so esteemed in the world, as well

as so gainful at home."

"Nor can we blame any foreign nation for prohibiting the

use and wearing of our manufactures, if they can either make

them at home, or make any which they can shift with in their

stead."

"The reason is plain. 'Tis the interest of every nation to

encourage their own trade, to encourage those manufactures

that will employ their own subjects, consume their own

growth of provisions, as well as materials of commerce, and

such as will keep their money or species at home."

"'Tis from this just principle that the French prohibit the

English woollen manufacture, and the English again prohibit,

or impose a tax equal to a prohibition, on the French silks,

paper, linen, and several other of their manufactures. 'Tis

from the same just reason in trade that we prohibit the wearing

of East India wrought silks, printed calicoes, &c.; that

we prohibit the importation of French brandy, Brazil sugars,

and Spanish tobacco; and so of several other things."

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