Part 3

When, by such imprudence as the world had never seen before, Godolphin was in his turn expelled, in August, 1710, our author waited on the ex-minister; who obligingly said to him, That he had the same good-will, but not the same power to assist him; and Godolphin told him, what was of more real use--to receive the queen's commands from her confidential servants, when he saw things settled. It naturally occurred to De Foe, that it was his duty to go along with the ministers, while, as he says, they did not break in on the constitution. And who can blame a very subordinate officer, (if indeed he held an office,) who had a wife and six children to maintain with very precarious means? He was thus, says he, cast back providentially on his first benefactor, who laid his case before her majesty, whereby he preserved his interest, without any engagement. On that memorable change De Foe however somewhat changed his tone. The method I shall take, says he[60], in talking of the public affairs, shall for the future be, though with the same design to support truth, yet with more caution of embroiling myself with a party who have no mercy, and who have no sense of service.

De Foe now lived at Newington, in comfortable circumstances, publishing the Reviews, and sending out such tracts, as either gratified his prejudices, or supplied his needs. During that contentious period he naturally gave and received many wounds; and he prudently entered into a truce with Mr. J. Dyer, who was engaged in similar occupations, that, however they might clash in party, they may write without personal reflections, and thus differ still, and yet preserve the Christian and the gentleman[61]. But between professed controvertists such a treaty could only be persevered in with Punic faith.

While thus occupied, De Foe was not forgotten by the city of Edinburgh, with the usual ingratitude of public bodies. On the first of February, 1710-11, that corporation, remembering his Caledonia, empowered him to publish the Edinburgh Courant, in the room of Adam Booge[62], though I suspect that he did not continue long to edify the Edinburgh citizens by his weekly lucubrations. He had then much to think of, and much to do at a distance: and he soon after gave some support to lord Oxford's South-sea project, by publishing An Essay on the South-sea Trade, with an inquiry into the reasons of the present complaint against the settlement of the South-sea company[63]. In the same year he published An Essay at a plain Exposition of that difficult phrase--A GOOD PEACE. He obviously intended to abate the national ardour for war, and to incite a national desire of quiet[64].

The ministers, by the course of events, were engaged ere long in one of the hardest tasks which can be assigned to British statesmen--the re-establishment of tranquillity after a glorious war. The treaty at Utrecht furnishes a memorable example of this. The furious debates which ensued within the walls of parliament and without, are sufficiently remembered. About this time, says Boyer, in May, 1713, a paper, entitled, Mercator, or Commerce Retrieved, was published on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays[65]. This was first fathered on Arthur Moore, assisted by Dr. D'Avenant; but the latter solemnly denied it: and it soon after appeared to be the production of Daniel De Foe, an ambidextrous hireling, who for this dirty work received a large weekly allowance from the treasury. That he wrote in the Mercator De Foe admits; but he expressly denies "that he either was the author of it, had the property of it, the printing of it, the profit of it, or had the power to put anything into it, if he would." And, by his Appeal, he affirms before God and the world, "that he never had any payment, or reward, for writing any part of it." Yet, that he was ready to defend those papers of the Mercator which were really his, if men would answer with arguments, rather than abuse; though not those things which he had never written, but for which he had received such usage. He adds, with the noble spirit of a true-born Englishman, "The press was open to me as well as to others: and how, or when I lost my English liberty of speaking my mind, I know not: neither how my speaking my opinions, without fee or reward, could authorise any one to call me villain, rascal, traitor, and such opprobrious names."

Of the imputed connection with his first benefactor, Harley, during that memorable period, our author speaks with equal firmness, at a moment when firmness was necessary. "I solemnly protest," says he, by his Appeal, "in the presence of Him who shall judge us all, that I have received no instructions, orders, or directions for writing anything, or materials from lord Oxford, since lord Godolphin was treasurer, or that I have ever shown to lord Oxford anything I had written or printed." He challenges the world to prove the contrary; and he affirms, that he always capitulated for liberty to speak according to his own judgment of things. As to consideration, pension, or reward, he declares most solemnly that he had none, except his old appointment made him long before by lord Godolphin. What is extremely probable we may easily credit, without such strong asseverations. However lord Oxford may have been gratified by the voluntary writings of De Foe, he had doubtless other persons who shared his confidence, and wrote his Examiners[66].

But De Foe published that which by no means promoted lord Oxford's views, and which, therefore, gained little of his favour. Our author wrote against the peace of Utrecht, because he approved of it as little as he had done the treaty at Gertruydenburgh, under very different influences a few years before. The peace _he_ was for, as he himself says, was such as should neither have given the Spanish monarchy to the house of Bourbon, nor to the house of Austria; but that this bone of contention should have been so broken to pieces, as that it should not have been dangerous to Europe; and that England and Holland should have so strengthened themselves, by sharing its commerce, as should have made them no more afraid of France, or the emperor; and that all that we should conquer in the Spanish West Indies should be our own. But it is equally true, he affirms, that when the peace was established, "I thought our business was to make the best of it; and rather to inquire what improvements could be made of it, than to be continually exclaiming against those who procured it."

He manfully avowed his opinion in 1715, when it was both disgraceful and dangerous, that the ninth article of the treaty of commerce[67] was calculated for the advantage of our trade; "Let who will make it, that," says he, "is nothing to me. My reasons are, because it tied up the French to open the door to our manufactures, at a certain duty of importation there, and left the parliament of Britain at liberty to shut theirs out, by as high duties as they pleased here, there being no limitation upon us, as to duties on French goods, but that other nations should pay the same. While the French were thus bound, and the British free, I always thought we must be in a condition to trade to advantage, or it must be our own fault: this was my opinion, and is so still; and I would engage to maintain it against any man, on a public stage, before a jury of fifty merchants, and venture my life upon the cause, if I were assured of fair play in the dispute. But, that it was my opinion, we might carry on a trade with France to our great advantage, and that we ought for that reason to trade with them, appears in the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth volumes of the Reviews, above nine years before The Mercator was thought of." Experience has decided in favour of De Foe against his opponents, with regard both to the theory and the practice of commerce.

In May, 1713, our author relinquished the Review, after nine years' continuance[68]: in Newgate it began, and in Newgate it ended. Whether we consider the frequency of the publication, or the power of his disquisitions, the pertinacity of his opponents, or the address of his defences, amid other studies, without assistance, this must be allowed to be such a work, as few of our writers have equalled. Yet, of this great performance, said Gay, "The poor Review is quite exhausted, and grown so very contemptible, that though he has provoked all his brothers of the quill, none will enter into a controversy with him. The fellow, who had excellent natural parts, but wanted a small foundation of learning, is a lively instance of those wits, who, as an ingenious author says, will endure but one skimming[69]." Poor Gay had learned this cant in the Scriblerus Club, who thought themselves the wisest, the wittiest, and virtuousest men that ever were, or ever would be. But of all their works, which of them have been so often skimmed, or yielded such cream, as Robinson Crusoe, The Family Instructor, or Religious Courtship? Some of their writings may indeed be allowed to have uncommon merit; yet, let them not arrogate exclusive excellence, or claim appropriate praise.

When De Foe relinquished the Review, he began to write A General History of Trade, which he proposed to publish in monthly numbers. The first number appeared on the first of August, 1713. His great design was to show the reader, "What the whole world is at this time employed in as to trade." But his more immediate end was, to rectify the mistake we are fallen into as to commerce, and to inform those who are willing to inquire into the truth. In the execution of this arduous undertaking, he avows his intention of speaking what reason dictates and fact justifies, however he may clash with the popular opinions of some people in trade. He could not however wholly abstract himself from the passing scene. When his second number appeared, on the 15th of August, 1713, he gave a discourse on the harbour of Dunkirk; wherein he insists, that the port ought to be destroyed, if it must remain with France[70]; but, if it were added to England, or made a free port, it would be for the good of mankind to have a safe harbour in such dangerous seas. This History of Trade, which exhibits the ingenuity, the strength, and the piety of De Foe, extended only to two numbers. The agitations of the times carried him to other literary pursuits; and the factiousness of the times constrained him to attend to personal security.

"While I spoke of things thus," says our author, "I bore infinite reproaches, as the defender of the peace, by pamphlets, which I had no hand in." He appears to have been silenced by noise, obloquy, and insult; and finding himself in this manner treated, he declined writing at all, as he assures us; and for great part of a year never set pen to paper, except in the Reviews. "After this," continues he, "I was a long time absent in the north of England," though we may easily infer, for a very different reason than that of the famous retirement of Swift, upon the final breach between Oxford and Bolingbroke.

The place of his retreat is now known to have been Halifax, or the borders of Lancashire[71]. And observing here, as he himself relates, the insolence of the Jacobite party, and how they insinuated the Pretender's rights into the common people. "I set pen to paper again, by writing A Seasonable Caution; and, to open the eyes of the poor ignorant country people, I gave away this all over the kingdom, as gain was not intended." With the same laudable purpose he wrote three other pamphlets; the first, What if the Pretender should come; the second, Reasons against the Succession of the House of Hanover; the third, What if the Queen should die? "Nothing could be more plain," says he, "than that the titles of these were amusements[72], in order to put the books into the hands of those people who had been deluded by the Jacobites." These petty volumes were so much approved by the zealous friends of the protestant succession, that they were diligent to disperse them through the most distant counties. And De Foe protests, that had the elector of Hanover given him a thousand pounds, he could not have served him more effectually, than by writing these three treatises.

The reader will learn, with surprise and indignation, that for these writings De Foe was arrested, obliged to give eight hundred pounds bail, contrary to the Bill of Rights, and prosecuted by information, during Trinity term, 1713. This groundless prosecution was instituted by the absurd zeal of William Benson, who afterwards became ridiculously famous for literary exploits, which justly raised him to the honours of the Dunciad. Our author attributes this prosecution to the malice of his enemies, who were numerous and powerful. No inconsiderable people were heard to say, that they knew the books were against the Pretender, but that De Foe had disobliged them in other things, and they resolved to take this advantage to punish him. This story is the more credible, as he had procured evidence to prove the fact, had the trial proceeded. He was prompted by consciousness of innocence to defend himself in the Review during the prosecution, which offended the judges, who, being somewhat infected with the violent spirit of the times, committed him to Newgate, in Easter term, 1713. He was, however, soon released, on making a proper submission. But it was happy for De Foe that his first benefactor was still in power, who procured him the queen's pardon, in November[73], 1713. This act of liberal justice was produced by the party-writers[74] of those black and bitter days, as an additional proof of Lord Oxford's attachment to the abdicated family, while De Foe was said to be convicted of absolute jacobitism, contrary to the tenor of his life, and the purpose of his writings. He himself said sarcastically that they might as well have made him a Mahometan. On his tombstone it might have been engraved, that he was the only Englishman who had been obliged to ask a royal pardon, for writing in favour of the Hanover succession.

"By this time," says Boyer, in October, 1714, "the treasonable design to bring in the pretender was manifested to the world by the agent of one of the late managers, De Foe, in his History of the White Staff. The Detection of the Secret History of the White Staff, which was soon published, confidently tells, that it was written by De Foe; as is to be seen by his abundance of words, his false thoughts, and his false English[75]." We now know that there was at that epoch, no plot in favour of the pretender, except in the assertions of those who wished to promote their interest by exhibiting their zeal. And I have shown, that De Foe had done more to keep out the pretender, than the political tribe, who profited from his zeal, yet detracted from his fame[76].

"No sooner, was the queen dead," says he, "and the king, as right required, proclaimed, but the rage of men increased upon me to that degree, that their threats were such as I am unable to express. Though I have written nothing since the queen's death; yet, a great many things are called by my name, and I bear the answerers' insults. I have not seen or spoken with the earl of Oxford," continues he, "since the king's landing, but once; yet he bears the reproach of my writing for him, and I the rage of men for doing it." De Foe appears indeed to have been, at that noisy period, stunned by factious clamour, and overborne, though not silenced, by unmerited obloquy. He probably lost his original appointment, when his first benefactor was finally expelled. Instead of meeting with reward for his zealous services in support of the protestant succession, he was, on the accession of George I., discountenanced by those who had derived a benefit from his active exertions. And of Addison, who was now exalted into office, and enjoyed literary patronage, our author had said in his Double Welcome to the Duke of Marlborough, with less poetry than truth:

Mæcenas has his modern fancy strung, And fix'd his pension first, or he had never sung.

While thus insulted by enemies, and discountenanced by power, De Foe published his Appeal to Honour and Justice, in 1715; being a true Account of his Conduct in Public Affairs. As a motive for this intrepid measure, he affectingly says, that "by the hints of mortality and the infirmities of a life of sorrow and fatigue, I have reason to think, that I am very near to the great ocean of eternity, and the time may not be long ere I embark on the last voyage: wherefore I think I should even accounts with this world before I go, that no slanders may lie against my heirs, to disturb them in the peaceable possession of their father's inheritance, his character." It is a circumstance perhaps unexampled in the life of any other writer, that before he could finish his Appeal, he was struck with apoplexy. After languishing more than six weeks, neither able to go on, nor likely to recover, his friends thought fit to delay the publication no longer. "It is the opinion of most who know him," says Baker, the publisher, "that the treatment which he here complains of, and others of which he would have spoken, have been the cause of this disaster." When the ardent mind of De Foe reflected on what he had done, and what he had suffered, how he had been rewarded and persecuted, his heart melted in despair. His spirit, like a candle struggling in the socket, blazed and sunk, and blazed and sunk, till it disappeared in darkness.

While his strength remained, he expostulated with his adversaries in the following terms of great manliness, and instructive intelligence:--"It has been the disaster of all parties in this nation, to be very hot in their turn, and as often as they have been so, I have differed with them all, and shall do so. I will repeat some of the occasions on the Whig side, because from that quarter the accusation of my turning about comes.

"The first time I had the misfortune to differ with my friends, was about the year 1683, when the Turks were besieging Vienna, and the whigs in England, generally speaking, were for the Turks' taking it; which I, having read the history of the cruelty and perfidious dealings of the Turks in their wars, and how they had rooted out the name of the Christian religion in above three score and ten kingdoms, could by no means agree with: and though then but a young man, and a younger author, I opposed it, and wrote against it, which was taken very unkindly indeed.

"The next time I differed with my friends, was when king James was wheedling the dissenters to take off the penal laws and test, which I could by no means come into. I told the dissenters, I had rather the Church of England should pull our clothes off by fines and forfeitures, than the papists should fall both upon the church and the dissenters, and pull our skins off by fire and fagot.

"The next difference I had with good men, was about the scandalous practice of occasional conformity, in which I had the misfortune to make many honest men angry, rather because I had the better of the argument, than because they disliked what I said.

"And now I have lived to see the dissenters themselves very quiet; if not very well pleased with an act of parliament to prevent it. Their friends indeed laid it on; they would be friends indeed, if they would talk of taking it off again.

"Again, I had a breach with honest men for their maltreating king William, of which I say nothing; because I think they are now opening their eyes, and making what amends they can to his memory.

"The fifth difference I had with them was about the treaty of partition, in which many honest men were mistaken, and in which I told them plainly then, that they would at last end the war upon worse terms; and so it is my opinion they would have done, though the treaty of Gertruydenburgh had taken place.

"The sixth time I differed with them, was when the old whigs fell out with the modern whigs; and when the duke of Marlborough and my lord Godolphin were used by the Observator in a manner worse, I confess, for the time it lasted, than ever they were used since; nay, though it were by Abel and the Examiner. But the success failed. In this dispute my lord Godolphin did me the honour to tell me I had served him and his grace also, both faithfully and successfully. But his lordship is dead, and I have now no testimony of it, but what is to be found in the Observator, where I am plentifully abused for being an enemy to my country, by acting in the interest of my lord Godolphin and the duke of Marlborough. What weathercock can turn with such tempers as these?

"I am now in the seventh breach with them, and my crime now is, that I will not believe and say the same things of the queen and the late treasurer, which I could not believe before of my lord Godolphin and the duke of Marlborough, and which in truth I cannot believe, and therefore could not say it of either of them; and which, if I had believed, yet I ought not to have been the man that should have said it, for the reasons aforesaid.

"In such turns of tempers and times a man must have been tenfold a Vicar of Bray, or it is impossible but he must one time or other be out with everybody. This is my present condition; and for this I am reviled with having abandoned my principles, turned jacobite, and what not: God judge between me and these men! Would they come to any particulars with me, what real guilt I may have, I would freely acknowledge; and if they would produce any evidence of the bribes, the pensions, and the rewards I have taken, I would declare honestly whether they were true or no. If they would give a list of the books which they charge me with, and the reasons why they lay them at my door, I would acknowledge any mistake, own what I have done, and let them know what I have not done. But these men neither show mercy, nor leave room for repentance; in which they act not only unlike their Maker, but contrary to his express commands[77]."

With the same independence of spirit, but with greater modesty of manner, our author openly disapproved of the intemperance which was adopted by government in 1714, contrary to the original purpose of George I. "It is and ever was my opinion," says De Foe in his Appeal, "that moderation is the only virtue by which the tranquillity of this nation can be preserved; and even the king himself, (I believe his majesty will allow me that freedom,) can only be happy in the enjoyment of the crown, by a moderate administration: if he should be obliged, contrary to his known disposition, to join with intemperate councils, if it does not lessen his security, I am persuaded it will lessen his satisfaction. To attain at the happy calm, which is the consideration that should move us all, (and he would merit to be called the nation's physician, who could prescribe the specific for it,) I think I may be allowed to say, a conquest of parties will never do it, a balance of parties may." Such was the political testament of De Foe; which it had been happy for Britain, had it been as faithfully executed as it was wisely made!