IDEOLOGY AND STRUCTURE IN ROBINSON CRUSOE: DEFOE'S [PDF]

IDEOLOGY AND STRUCTURE IN ROBINSON CRUSOE: DEFOE'S RESOLUTION OF THE TRADE-MORALITY CONFLICT

by

JAMES 0. FOSTER B.A., Willamette University, 1970

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ABSTRACT It has been said that Defoe's writings embody an

unresolvable

s p l i t between a Puritan morality and an e s s e n t i a l l y c a p i t a l i s t economic interest.

Defoe i s either a Puritan, i n some cases, w r i t i n g works

with heavy moral and religious overtones;

or he i s a c a p i t a l i s t , d i s -

regarding the virtues of a Puritan morality i n the pursuit of economic gain.

This s p l i t between trade and r e l i g i o n becomes a central c r i t i c a l

issue i n his f i r s t novel, Robinson Crusoe.

There are sections of the

novel i n which Crusoe meditates upon r e l i g i o n , v i r t u e , God's providence, his

own

place i n the divine scheme, or i n which he r e f l e c t s on his past

l i f e of s i n and adventure.

There are other sections i n the book i n

which the excitement of the narrative i s generated through a focus on an action-economics pattern.

Thus, the reader becomes involved i n Crusoe's

various s u r v i v a l projects, his explorations of the island wilderness, even in his early trading ventures.

The l a t t e r , of course, are a n t i t h e t i c a l

to the religious point of view maintained throughout the novel. The s p l i t i n Crusoe's character, and the concomitant s p l i t in the structure of his "autobiography," can be resolved by looking at Defoe's i d e o l o g i c a l background as i t relates to the themes and structure of Robinson Crusoe.

Defoe's r e l i g i o n i s a form of Puritanism;

he comes from a Presbyterian household.

Therefore, his ideas on

economics tend to be m o r a l i s t i c and conservative; he i s a m e r c a n t i l i s t , not a c a p i t a l i s t .

In Crusoe, the main character's

"capitalistic"

ii

schemes for getting quickly ahead i n the world are j u s t l y punished by Providence.

Providence, i n this sense, i s the hand of God operating

as a force for moral and economic order i n human a f f a i r s . Through a careful structuring of his narrative, Defoe indicates his own moral and thematic intentions.

There i s a r e l i g i o u s pattern

in Robinson Crusoe which manifests i t s e l f through s p i r i t u a l emblemism ( i . e . , events can be read for their s p i r i t u a l s i g n i f i c a n c e ) , traces of allegory, the actions of Providence i n Crusoe's l i f e , Crusoe's

own

series of moral r e f l e c t i o n s , and a structure based on the conventional patterns of the seventeenth century s p i r i t u a l autobiography.

In the

l a t t e r , the conversion scene i s always the central dramatic event, and i n Crusoe, the conversion stands squarely at the center of the novel; i t i s the scene central to Crusoe's own development as he evolves from a " c a p i t a l i s t " to a moral and r e l i g i o u s man.

In a l l , the religious

pattern gives the reader a perspective on Crusoe's economics; rather than being a c a p i t a l i s t and disrupting the status quo, Crusoe learns to create order and s t a b i l i t y on.his island through an application of the p r i n c i p l e s of reason and f a i t h .

Thus, the religious and economic patterns work

together throughout the novel; they are not a n t i t h e t i c a l . One other basic pattern i n Robinson Crusoe i s that of Crusoe's growth to moral wisdom and r a t i o n a l knowledge.

Crusoe evolves through

three stages, from an early "brute" stage (Crusoe as c a p i t a l i s t ) , through reason, and f i n a l l y to f a i t h .

Again, Defoe's intention i s to show that

reason and f a i t h should operate to control impulsive behavior and action.

Thus, this pattern blends with the r e l i g i o u s pattern i n the

book, but i t also indicates Defoe's knowledge of the seventeenthcentury natural law philosophers.

Basing himself firmly on philosophical

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d e f i n i t i o n s of man and nature Cas found i n Grotius, Hobbes, and especially Locke), Defoe structures his text i n order to show Crusoe's growth into f a i t h and r a t i o n a l i t y .

The result i s , of course, that Crusoe

becomes an example of the "good" eighteenth-century' Englishman, able to control h i s actions through reason and morality, and thus he becomes a force for moral order and s o c i a l s t a b i l i t y throughout the l a s t part of the book. Robinson Crusoe, then, can be seen as a text structured to indicate a resolution of the c o n f l i c t between trade and morality. Defoe reduces and s i m p l i f i e s a complex ideology—made up of elements of Puritanism, conservative economic theory, natural law p h i l o s o p h y — for purposes of f i c t i o n a l presentation.

It i s this model, reduced and

s i m p l i f i e d , that the reader must understand i n order to f u l l y comprehend Defoe's moral and economic intentions i n Robinson Crusoe and, f i n a l l y , to see the book as i t resolves the trade-morality c o n f l i c t .

iv

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER

,

Page

I.

Introduction

II.

Religion and Economics i n Robinson Crusoe

17

1.

Introduction

17

2.

The Religious Theme

21

3.

The Economic Theme

49

4.

Structure

75

III.

Philosophy and Knowledge i n Robinson Crusoe

82

1.

Introduction

82

2.

The State of Nature and the Early Growth of Robinson Crusoe

86

Possessive Individualism and the Pattern of Growth i n Robinson Crusoe

112

Structure and D i a l e c t i c s

130

3. 4.

IV.

1

Conclusion:

Theme and Technique

145

NOTES

156

BIBLIOGRAPHY

166

CHAPTER I Introduction

Daniel Defoe's f i r s t novel, Robinson Crusoe, was published i n A p r i l , 1719, and attained an immediate and widespread popularity.

The

book went through seven editions before i t s author's death i n 1731, and has gone through perhaps two hundred more editions since then.

Defoe

himself wrote two sequels to The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, The Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe which appeared several months after the f i r s t volume, and i n 1720, Serious Reflections during the L i f e and Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.

Neither of these

sequels, however, achieved the popularity of the f i r s t book, and they have since gone largely unnoticed apart from the occasional

critic

who w i l l f i n d examples i n them to bolster h i s interpretation of the

s t i l l popular Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. The differences between the two l a t e r books, however, provide

an i n t e r e s t i n g departure f o r our own interpretation of Robinson Crusoe (Part I ) , since they indicate a schizophrenic s p l i t

i n Crusoe's

character that w i l l lead us into one of the central c r i t i c a l in Defoe studies.

issues

In the second volume of Crusoe's adventures, narrative

emphasis i s placed on an economic and adventure pattern; Crusoe leaves a secure position i n England to t r a v e l throughout the world, trading and observing the general state of mankind.

The t h i r d volume presents,

2

as the t i t l e indicates, a pattern of meditation and r e f l e c t i o n ; a f t e r a long l i f e of adventure and t r a v e l , Crusoe presents his findings and theories on man,

morality, and r e l i g i o n .

Thus, there would appear

to be a s p l i t i n Crusoe's character; one Crusoe i s the active participant i n an economic world, the other i s a passive who

i s characterized by t r a n q u i l and oftentimes

meditator

"melancholy" thoughts.

Although this difference between the two characterizations may

not

at f i r s t seem drastic—may i n fact appear to be n e g l i g i b l e — t h e implications i t carries for the rest of Defoe's f i c t i o n , and for his writing i n general, are far-reaching indeed. Throughout the canon of Defoe's work there appears to be a continual s h i f t i n g of i n t e r e s t between trade and r e l i g i o u s morality. Certain writings of Defoe's are fraught with an almost Puritan morality, from a r t i c l e s i n his Review condemning the English stage and players as lewd and immoral to his larger moralizing pieces such as Religious Courtship and The Family Instructor.

At the same time,

Defoe can note i n the closing pages of his Review that "Writing on Trade was

the Whore I r e a l l y doated upon.""'"

The problem i s that

certain trading i n t e r e s t s are bound to c o n f l i c t with a moral v i s i o n , and this two-fold interest of Defoe's i n trade and morality leads, as some c r i t i c s have pointed out, to certain paradoxes i n his writings. In fact, this "paradox school" of Defoe c r i t i c s sees what amounts to a diametric opposition i n Defoe's own mind between economics and religion.

Thus, Rudolf Stamm, one c r i t i c of this school, argues

that Defoe's entire l i f e i s a compromise between trade and

religion,

and finds him to be a pseudo-Puritan; that i s , Defoe, i n both his

3

actions and h i s writings, attempts to f o o l himself into believing he i s Puritan.

Thus Defoe's novels are more i n t e r e s t i n g for t h e i r 2

secular themes, since the moral viewpoint i s merely a put-on. Hans Anderson, i n "The Paradox of Trade and Morality i n Defoe," argues that Defoe i s able to resolve the c o n f l i c t between public virtue and private vice by compartmentalizing his trading concerns in one part of his mind and i s o l a t i n g that from the more Puritan, moral compartment.

Defoe i s able to hold to firm Christian moral

commitments while he can argue, apparently immorally, for certain trading projects which h i s Puritan nature should n a t u r a l l y condemn. Anderson notes that Defoe, i n certain writings, could condone slavery as economically b e n e f i c i a l , yet i n other pieces react to i t from a humanitarian and moral point of view, p r e c i s e l y because 3

of this compartmentalizing process which characterized h i s thought. Both these t h e o r i e s — o f Defoe as compromiser and Defoe as schizophrenic—have been refuted by Maximillian Novak i n h i s two major c r i t i c a l works on Defoe:

Defoe and the Nature of Man and Economics

and the F i c t i o n of Daniel Defoe.

B r i e f l y , Novak argues that a

doctrine of necessity i s central to Defoe's economic thought.

Defoe

could condemn the economic v i c e , but i n many instances, the vices themselves were necessary for human s u r v i v a l .

In speaking of Defoe's

f i c t i o n a l characters, f o r example, Novak states: None of them f a l l into necessity through v i c e ; therefore they cannot be charged with g u i l t for their early crimes. But these acts shade into innumerable s o c i a l s i n s . It i s usually of these l a t e r and more flagrant breaches of morality that Defoe allowed h i s characters to be punished, not f o r crimes committed i n accordance with the laws of nature.4

4 Necessity breeds the v i c e , and Novak suggests that this doctrine i s subsumed under the law of nature presented i n seventeenth century philosophy.

In Economics and the F i c t i o n of Daniel Defoe, Novak

argues that Defoe i s not a bourgeois c a p i t a l i s t — n o t therefore a person sunk i n economic v i c e — b u t rather he i s a Puritan and a conservative

( i . e . , mercantilist) i n matters of trade.^

Thus

Defoe i s enough of a r e a l i s t to understand that man i s driven by necessity or self-preservation into' vice, but he i s also perhaps i d e a l i s t i c enough to believe that man can eventually come to control his v i c e s , perhaps even to eradicate them.

Defoe, then, i s not a

pseudo-Puritan, as Stamm believes, nor i s he a schizophrenic, as Anderson postulates. One question i n this c r i t i c a l d i a l e c t i c has only been touched upon, however, and that i s the problem of resolving the trademorality paradox with direct reference to Defoe's f i c t i o n , and more precisely to Robinson Crusoe. schizophrenia presents

Crusoe's possible

trade-morality

a peculiar problem, since i f there i s such

a paradox operative throughout the novel, then this book—along with i t s main c h a r a c t e r — i s s p l i t irrevocably and irrecoverably down the middle.

Defoe's novel—which we w i l l assume contains some sort of

aesthetic or s t r u c t u r a l p a t t e r n — i s fragmented, the pattern

destroyed,

as the trade theme e f f e c t i v e l y cancels out the moral v i s i o n and the morality blankets

the trade.

Perhaps I am overstating the case, but

the point i s an important one.

It i s important because, i n the

l a s t twenty years or so, several theories have been advanced which attempt to j u s t i f y or explain the structure and meaning of Robinson

5

Crusoe.

Maximillian Novak, for example, sees Defoe's book as a

tract supporting mercantilism and i l l u s t r a t i n g certain theories of economics and labor.

To Ian Watt, i n h i s The Rise of the Novel,

Crusoe embodies the new economic i n d i v i d u a l i s t — a man sprung forth from the womb of the C a l v i n i s t church and taught a doctrine of e t h i c a l and economic individualism.^

Arnold Kettle claims Robinson

Crusoe as proof of his theory of the novel's inception during the g bourgeois revolution at the end of the seventeenth century. The problem i s : another.

these economic interpretations contradict one

To Novak, Defoe i s a c o n s e r v a t i v e — a m e r c a n t i l i s t — a n d thus

there i s an economic moral to Robinson Crusoe; don't be a c a p i t a l i s t . To Watt and Kettle, Defoe i s bourgeois and a c a p i t a l i s t , and Crusoe i s therefore a l a i s s e z - f a i r e i n d i v i d u a l i s t .

In this case, there i s

r e a l l y no moral to the story, rather i t simply i l l u s t r a t e s the economic temper of the times.

If these contradictions aren't enough, there

i s another group of c r i t i c s who argue that Crusoe i s a novel only marginally about economics.

To George Starr, J. Paul Hunter, and

Edwin Benjamin, Robinson Crusoe i s r e a l l y a book about Puritanism, embodying an e s s e n t i a l l y r e l i g i o u s v i s i o n of l i f e .

Thus, Starr argues

that the structure and meaning of Defoe's novel p a r a l l e l the conventional patterns and themes of the seventeenth century s p i r i t u a l

9 autobiographies,

while Hunter and Benjamin attempt to prove that

Robinson Crusoe i s r e a l l y a r e l i g i o u s allegory, patterned after works l i k e Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress.

I f , therefore, one reads a l l

of these c r i t i c s on Robinson Crusoe and considers their opinions to be a l l of equal v a l i d i t y , then there would seem to be a s p l i t i n

6

the structure and theme of the novel; i t i s a tract on economics or i t i s a book which embodies a r e l i g i o u s and moral v i s i o n .

Our

problem here i s how to put these two views of the novel together; to see the book, i n other words, as a single, s i g n i f i c a n t l y structured unit which incorporates both the r e l i g i o u s theme and the economic. One major weakness i n the majority of these various i n t e r pretations of Robinson Crusoe i s that each of them tends to undercut or ignore one theme while advancing the other to a position of ultimate and absolute importance—a position which w i l l usually not be supported through a close examination of a l l of the elements of the text.

The objective of this paper w i l l be to show that Defoe i s

writing a novel which i n fact integrates the two themes of r e l i g i o n and economics—morality and t r a d e — i n t o a pattern which then i l l u s t r a t e s a cohesion of moral v i s i o n and material gain.

Rather than seeing

the book as exhibiting a s p l i t between a fundamentally secular, economic theme, and a moral, r e l i g i o u s one, the two themes work together throughout the text.

The thesis, then, i s simply t h i s :

there i s no paradox

between r e l i g i o n and economics i n Robinson Crusoe and a close reading of the whole of Part I of Crusoe's Adventures should prove this statement.

In thus attempting to put the novel back together'—to show

the fusion of trade and m o r a l i t y — o u r method must be roundabout; that i s , working from the general to the p a r t i c u l a r .

In this case, we

must f i r s t define the climate of opinion i n which Defoe worked.

The

construction of this " i d e o l o g i c a l model" w i l l lead to a close reading of Robinson Crusoe, keeping i n mind a l l the while that Defoe i s

7 simplifying and reducing the major ideas i n this model for the purposes of f i c t i o n a l presentation.

Our focus w i l l f i r s t be on

r e l i g i o n and economics i n eighteenth-century England, and then on the philosophy of the period, and i n each case, our purpose w i l l be to see how these ideas are exemplified and i l l u s t r a t e d i n the novel itself.

We can then focus, i n turn, on the r e l i g i o u s , economic, and

philosophical patterns i n Robinson Crusoe, and thus we can see how these patterns work together to structure and create meaning i n the book. Before we analyze the novel i t s e l f , we should perhaps look at the general h i s t o r i c a l and p o l i t i c a l background i n England during the l a t t e r h a l f of the seventeenth century, since Defoe himself i s very much a product of this age, and the events which took place during the Restoration period undoubtedly had a great influence on h i s l i f e , philosophy, and writings.

Defoe, i t i s thought, was born i n 1660..

This i s , of course, the year i n which Charles II was restored to the English throne, and the year which consequently marked the end of Puritan rule i n t h a t country.

The Puritans had maintained

political

control i n England for eleven years after the C i v i l War, and with the death of Oliver Cromwell, o f f i c i a l l y "Lord Protector" of the Commonwealth, they discovered that they lacked the p o l i t i c a l so important to the smooth functioning of a government.

cohesiveness

As varied

in p o l i t i c a l opinions as they were i n r e l i g i o u s b e l i e f s , the Puritans came to r e a l i z e that power and s o l i d a r i t y were maintained through the strong personality of Cromwell himself, and through the existence of a Puritan army l o y a l to the Lord Protector.

When Cromwell died

the Puritans could no longer maintain their government, and f o r p o l i t i c a l reasons—besides

a general weariness

among i n f l u e n t i a l elements of the

8

population with Puritan r u l e — C h a r l e s II was

c a l l e d back to assume

the kingship. With the p o l i t i c a l f a i l u r e and subsequent loss of power by the Puritans, a new

phase i n the persecution of these dissenting

religious groups began.

A series of reactionary parliamentary

acts,

known c o l l e c t i v e l y as the Clarendon Code, began with the passing of the Corporation Act of December, 1661.

This f i r s t law, directed

against what p o l i t i c a l and r e l i g i o u s power the Puritans s t i l l retained, excluded from municipal bodies a l l people refusing to renounce the Covenant.,"'"''" to take the sacrament according to the r i t e s of the Church of England, or to swear nonresistance 1662, who

to the monarchy.

In

another b i l l , the Act of Uniformity, required a l l preachers

did not conduct t h e i r services according to the new

Book of Common Prayer to quit their p u l p i t s . this act was

and revised

The direct result of

to force nearly two thousand ministers to reject the

Church of England and to become either i t i n e r a n t preachers,

sermon-

i z i n g wherever they could c o l l e c t • a crowd, or to find new l i v e l i h o o d s . Dissenting congregations

had to go underground also, and as a contem-

porary, O l i v e r Heywood, remarked, "The Act of Uniformity struck a l l nonconformists dead on St. Bartholomew's Day, And G.R.

12 August 24, 1662."

Cragg, i n his Puritanism i n the Period of the Great Persecution,

points out: For the most part the ejected ministers were thrown upon the world without means of support. They could not continue the work for which they had been trained, and the alternatives to which educated men would ^naturally turn were closed to them by the ingenuity with which the Act of Uniformity had been framed. Many were the expedients to which they were driven. A few had private means. Some possessed s k i l l s for which the community was glad to remunerate them. Many turned to secular c a l l i n g s u n t i l they could f i n d some opportunity of exercising their ministry once more. 13

9

Many of these ejected ministers d i d return to preaching nonconformist doctrines.

Others, however, took up more secular c a l l i n g s .

The persecution of dissenting ministers spread gradually to a persecution of t h e i r congregations as well, and thus the Clarendon Code forced a l l nonconformists to do one of two things:

they

could either j o i n the Anglican Church and again take part i n an active and open p o l i t i c a l l i f e , or they could quit t h e i r p o l i t i c a l concerns and survive i n society as best they could.

There seems,

then, to be a general movement among Puritans of this time to more economic concerns, and as Maurice Ashley notes, "One reason f o r the extraordinary success of the Nonconformists... i n business was that they were thus diverted from the ordinary duties and pleasures of 14 citizenship."

This movement into business resulted, as we s h a l l

l a t e r see, i n s l i g h t s h i f t s of emphasis i n Puritan doctrine, especially regarding the place of trade and morality i n the nonconformist view of human l i f e .

These concepts are thus fundamental to our understanding

of what Defoe i s doing i n Robinson

Crusoe.

Though many of the events of Defoe's early l i f e , and i n fact a great deal of h i s l a t e r l i f e , are largely a matter of conjecture, one thing i s certain; his way of l i f e was influenced by the Clarendon Code and the persecution of dissenting groups.

His parents, f o r

example, had long been members of the congregation of Dr. Samuel Annesley.

When the Act of Uniformity was passed, they followed

Dr. Annesley into the Presbyterian Church. background

Thus, we assume that Defoe's

i s nonconformist, and that he was taught basic Puritan

doctrine as a c h i l d .

There i s , however, only scattered evidence of this

10

background i n his own writing.

He does number the members of l o c a l

dissenting groups i n h i s Tour Thro' the Whole Island of Great

Britain;

there are moral passages, very Puritan i n tone, i n h i s Review; also, his

most notorious piece of work, The Shortest Way

with the Dissenters,

i s an i r o n i c attack on the conservative High-Church clergy, and consequently,

a kind of defense of the dissenters.

case, biographical evidence For example, Defoe was

But i n this

i s more h e l p f u l than l i t e r a r y corroborations.

sent to the Reverend Charles Morton's dissenting

academy at Newington Green i n order to prepare himself for the Presbyterian ministry.

Bonamy Dobree comments on h i s education,

both under Annesley and under Morton: From Samuel Annesley, his f i r s t p a s t o r — o n whose death he wrote one of his most tedious poems—he derived not only a C a l v i n i s t i c denial of grace, but a d i s l i k e of dogmatic insistence, of f i e r c e p o l i t i c o r e l i g i o u s s t r i f e , which the l a t e r Defoe would at any rate find contrary to the interests of trade. But Charles Morton, l a t e r f i r s t Vice-President of Harvard, Master of Stoke Newington Academy where Defoe got his schooling, was a d i s c i p l e of Wilkins, famous i n the Royal Society, and he inculcated a firm b e l i e f i n Baconian progress, making, i t would seem, no d i s t i n c t i o n between the two philosophies, divine and natural. He taught, nevertheless, that there existed an operative providence always at hand to help those strenuous to help themselves. From both, probably, Defoe derived that deep apprehension of the manifestations of supernatural e v i l seldom absent from the p u r i t a n i c a l consciousness.15 Thus, p u r i t a n i c a l and r e l i g i o u s as his education was, was

Defoe

also taught the more p r a c t i c a l d i s c i p l i n e s of science, l o g i c , and

natural philosophy.

John Moore conjectures that Defoe described h i s

education i n this passage from The Compleat English Gentleman:

"He

through the whole course of philosophy, he p e r f e c t l y compassed the study of geography, the use of maps and globes; he read a l l that S i r

run

11

Isaac Newton, Mr. Whitson, Mr. Halley had said i n English upon the 16 nicest subjects i n astronomy and the secrets of nature...."

It

should also be mentioned that the Puritan education stressed not only theology, but p r a c t i c a l i t y , e s p e c i a l l y i f the student was considering the ministry as a vocation.

William H a l l e r , i n h i s Rise of Puritanism,

points to the long t r a d i t i o n of both r e l i g i o u s and secular

education

in the nonconformist schools: Students were enveloped i n an intensely r e l i g i o u s atmosphere, they were instructed i n rhetoric and oratory, in the Bible and the Greek and Latin c l a s s i c s , i n moral and natural philosophy. In the course of time, h i s t o r y , the modern languages and l i t e r a t u r e s , mathematics and experimental science, f i n a l l y the s o c i a l sciences, a l l found acceptance within this curriculum as the vestiges of scholasticism, followed by evangelism, faded away.17 And as Richard Bernard explains, i n The F a i t h f u l l Shepheard, a broad education must be given a man preparing f o r the dissenting'ministry: "What Art or Science i s there, which a Divine s h a l l not stand i n need of...?"

And "Grammar, Rhetorick, Logicke, Physicks, Mathematicks,

Metaphysicks, Ethicks, P o l i t i c k s , Oeconomicks, History, and M i l i t a r y 18 D i s c i p l i n e , " are some of the s p e c i f i c courses he names. The importance of this education cannot be underestimated.

to our understanding of Defoe

Morton d e f i n i t e l y fostered the pragmatic

and p r a c t i c a l approach to experience

and l i f e and grounded h i s students, 19

as James Sutherland indicates, i n science, inquiry, and reasoning. Consequently, i t i s safe to assume that Defoe was knowledgeable both i n Puritan writings and i n the secular natural philosophies. Novak points out, the author of Robinson Crusoe was

As

apparently

familiar with the works of Dalby, Thomas, S i r William Petty, John As.gill,

12

and Nicholas Barbon, at least by the time he wrote his f i r s t important work on economics, Essay upon Projects. and Machiavelli i n Considerations

Defoe mentions A r i s t o t l e

on the Present State of A f f a i r s

in Great B r i t a i n , he quotes Hobbes i n The Storm, and he refers to Bacon i n A General History of Discoveries and Improvements, i n Useful 20 Arts and to Locke and Pufendorf i n Jure Divino.

Though perhaps one

can doubt that Defoe read a l l of the works of these men, s t i l l i t i s safe to assume that he was at least f a m i l i a r with their ideas. sequently,

one expects to find their influence i n his writings.

ConOne

assumption we w i l l make l a t e r i s that the natural law p h i l o s o p h e r s — primarily Hobbes and Locke—form a part of that i d e o l o g i c a l model which influenced Defoe's outlook and that t h e i r ideas influenced both the theme and structure of Robinson Crusoe. F i n a l l y , Defoe himself re-enacted what had become a standard pattern i n the l i v e s of many Puritans; he turned from a m i n i s t e r i a l vocation to go into business. James Foe,

Sutherland

states that Defoe's father,

"must have r e a l i z e d that he [Daniel] was an adventurer:

a respectable adventurer, no doubt, dealing for the most part with rather large ideas."

And he saw his son become "a promoter, a 21

speculator, a man of many a f f a i r s . "

In turning to the world of

economics and trade, Defoe was following the trend of his age; i . e . , the nonconformist entered into the vocation of tradesman or merchant. Defoe, at any rate, seems to have entered the merchant profession wholeheartedly, for i n the years that followed," he was a wholesale hosier, he imported wine, insured ships, dealt i n r e a l estate, owned a brickworks, and carried on trade i n wool, oysters, cheese, and s a l t .

13

In fact, by the time legally-sanctioned persecution

of the noncon-

formists began fading out with the ascension of William and Mary to the English throne, Defoe had become a f a i r l y successful businessman and p o l i t i c a l pamphleteer.

However, i n 1692 he was declared bankrupt

for fel7,000, and though he might have had some business success along the way, he was never e n t i r e l y free of his creditors u n t i l his death.

In s p e c i f i c a l l y r e l a t i n g Robinson Crusoe to this rather sketchy h i s t o r i c a l and biographical background, one thing becomes apparent. Perhaps Defoe's turning from an intended career i n the ministry to secular business persuits i s d i r e c t l y related to Crusoe's leaving his father's home, and the law profession he was being trained f o r , and taking to the sea. his

At least this would explain Crusoe's reference to

story as being both " a l l e g o r i c a l " and " h i s t o r i c a l " i n the "Preface"

to the l a t e r Serious Reflections.

Defoe, as some c r i t i c s would point

out, i s perhaps writing loosely of his own l i f e i n the Crusoe t r i l o g y ; that i s , perhaps some of the episodes could be taken as a l l e g o r i c renderings of certain events i n Defoe's own l i f e .

This would be f i n e ,

but i t does not r e a l l y t e l l us anything about the structures and themes to be found i n the text as a whole.

It i s c e r t a i n l y one of

the most useless points to pursue i n Robinson Crusoe. implication i s that the book i s structured according p r i n c i p l e s of r e l i g i o u s allegory.

Another to the s t r i c t

Thus, Crusoe defends the value

of allegory, and incidently the value of his own Adventures, i n drawing a contrast between the useful allegory and the useless romance. Crusoe states, again i n the Serious Reflections, that "the t e l l i n g or

14

writing a Parable, or an a l l u s i v e a l l e g o r i c k history i s quite a different Case, and i s always Distinguisht from the other Jesting with Truth; that i t i s design'd and e f f e c t u a l l y turn'd for i n s t r u c t i v e and upright ends, and has i t s Moral j u s t l y apply'd: h i s t o r i c a l Parables Progress,

Such as the

i n the holy Scripture, such i s the Pilgrims

and such, i n a Word the Adventures of your f u g i t i v e Friend, 22

Robinson Crusoe."

Defoe, i n defending h i s book's reputation as

truth (either l i t e r a l or f i g u r a t i v e ) , builds h i s case for allegory. In putting forward this case, however, Defoe confuses h i s l i t e r a r y terms.

A p a r a b l e — " h i s t o r i c a l " or o t h e r w i s e — i s

piece, a story, i l l u s t r a t i n g some moral lesson.

usually a shorter A parable can be

a l l e g o r i c a l , though every element of the story does not necessarily have to conform to a d e f i n i t e and precise system of meaning. It w i l l be my contention, throughout this essay, that Defoe i s not writing a s t r i c t allegory, that i n fact the structure of Crusoe i s looser and perhaps more suggestive allegory.

than that of an

A looser form would also allow Defoe to weave into h i s

work more of the thoughts of those writers who perhaps influenced him, making the work a f a r r i c h e r source of ideas and themes than i f he had attempted to produce a straight r e l i g i o u s and Puritan allegory.

In a l l , Defoe would have been more accurate i n c a l l i n g h i s

f i r s t novel a parable rather than an allegory.

A parable retains the

moral thrust of allegory, but does not embody the s t r i c t structure of referents and meaning contained need not be an

i n the more r i g i d form.

It also

e n t i r e l y r e l i g i o u s work; i t can include a more secular

wisdom as well as a r e l i g i o u s v i s i o n .

In this sense, Robinson Crusoe

15

could perhaps be c a l l e d a parable, whether i t i s a parable of economic man

or of religious man

or of both at once.

In a larger view, nearly a l l of Defoe's f i c t i o n a l narratives, i f we are to believe the statements made i n h i s prefaces, are parables, but nearly a l l f a l l considerably short of being a l l e g o r i c a l .

First,

Defoe's stories are parables largely through their professed moral purpose.

Defoe, masquerading as Crusoe i n the "Preface" to the Serious

Reflections, defines h i s aesthetic credo:

"...the design of everything

i s said to be f i r s t i n intention, and l a s t i n execution." ( I l l , ±x). Consequently,

Defoe pays l i t t l e attention to a tight o v e r a l l patterning

of his f i c t i o n , yet he i s always ready to point out the moral ( i . e . , intention).

Thus, the "Preface" to Part I of Robinson Crusoe reads

in part, "The story i s t o l d with modesty, with seriousness, and with a r e l i g i o u s application of events to the uses to which wise men

always

apply them (viz.) to the instruction of others by this example, and.to j u s t i f y and honor the wisdom of Providence i n a l l variety of our circumstances, l e t them happen how f i n a l l y agree

they w i l l " ( I , i i ) .

One must

a ^ r e with Maximillian Novak that Defoe oftentimes c

writes h a s t i l y , lets things "happen how

they w i l l , " and shows better

a b i l i t y at constructing scenes, paragraphs,

and sections, than a

well-integrated, s t r u c t u r a l l y flawless narrative.

" I f he occasionally

forgot what he said twenty pages back," concludes Novak, "he was

fully

23 aware of i n d i v i d u a l words and

paragraphs."

On the other hand, i f Defoe does stress intention over execution (moral over technique or structure), there are s t i l l s p e c i f i c patterns which work throughout

Robinson Crusoe—patterns which indicate a rather

16

complex structure of ideas i n the novel.

The purpose of this essay

w i l l be to uncover this structure through, f i r s t , a look at the novel' i d e o l o g i c a l background, and second, by r e a l i z i n g Defoe's thematic intentions i n Robinson Crusoe as these are indicated i n the structure of the book.

The primary objective i s to indicate, through a close

reading of the text as i t relates to a background of ideas and b e l i e f s that there i s no r e a l paradox between economics and trade and Crusoe's e s s e n t i a l l y nonconformist morality.

Rather, these two elements work

together i n the novel to indicate a more complete pattern of meaning i n the book, and this pattern i s only r e a l i z e d when the reader comprehends the integration of r e l i g i o u s (Puritan) and secular (economics, natural philosophy) modes of thought into the pattemof Crusoe's adventures.

We w i l l begin by looking s p e c i f i c a l l y at the r e l i g i o u s an

economic themes i n Robinson Crusoe, indicating how they work together throughout the novel, and then go

on to relate the pattemof Crusoe's

growth into moral and i n t e l l e c t u a l knowledge

to the philosophy of the

period and indicate that this pattern of growth also works to resolve the trade-morality paradox.

CHAPTER I I Religion and Economics i n Robinson Crusoe

1.

Introduction

In spite of the c r i t i c a l volumes and a r t i c l e s written on Defoe, a l l of which expose and explain c r i t i c a l problems and dilemmas within the canon of his works, there i s a general problem that has not yet received the attention i t merits.

Suppose, as many c r i t i c s have,

that one can read Robinson Crusoe as a Puritan allegory.

Besides

interpretative d i f f i c u l t i e s with the text i t s e l f , there would be serious problem i n defining what exactly Puritanism i s .

In fact,

any precision i s sadly lacking i n defining what a Puritan believed as opposed to what, say, an Anglican did.

The reasons for this

d i f f i c u l t y are b a s i c a l l y two: one r e l i g i o u s , the other O r i g i n a l l y , the sixteenth century Calvin that a l l people were predestined

political.

"Puritan" had i t from John

to either suffer the torments

of h e l l or l i v e i n eternal b l i s s i n heaven.

According

to Calvin's doc-

t r i n e of hard determinism, man had l i t t l e or no choice i n his fate: everything had already been decided.

From b i r t h a l l human beings

were depraved, l i v i n g , as a result of Adam's o r i g i n a l s i n , in' an e s s e n t i a l l y e v i l world and, consequently, subject to the many temptations of that world.

This concept of o r i g i n a l s i n , '-• •-:

was a universal Christian doctrine, the concept

1

18

of pre-destination was

primarily Puritan.

And

the Puritans also

dissented from Anglican doctrine, supposedly, i n t h e i r doctrine of the e l e c t .

If one were a member of the e l e c t — t h a t i s , a member i n good

standing of the Puritan Church—then one stood a good chance of being "saved".

These two doctrines, i t could be said, served to define

Puritan r e l i g i o u s ideology up u n t i l the time of the Puritan Revolution.

Then, as the o r i g i n a l and central groups of the Puritan

Church began to s p l i n t e r and form opposing factions within t h e i r own

ranks, the core doctrines of predestination and the elect began

to fade, i n some groups, into a more "benevolistic" ideology. according

If,

to Puritan pamphleteers such as John Goodwin and Henry Parker,

the seeds of grace resided i n each i n d i v i d u a l , then i t was

possible

for anyone to achieve the state of grace even here i n this s i n f u l world.

And,

i f they were saved, the new

burn i n h e l l for an e t e r n i t y .

converts

The conception

c e r t a i n l y needn't

of a f a l l e n world remained,

but predestination began to fade as a doctrine strongly advocated by the Puritan divines.

Thus, at least one defining and fundamental

doctrine of the early Puritan Church, could no longer apply to the post-revolution Puritan churches.

specifically

As for the doctrine

of the e l e c t , most r e l i g i o u s d i s c i p l i n e s in Europe—Roman Catholic or Anglican, Orthodox or P r o t e s t a n t — s t r e s s e d

the idea that members

of t h e i r p a r t i c u l a r group, or sect, were saved while everyone else was damned. Also, Puritanism existed o r i g i n a l l y as a p o l i t i c a l movement within a larger p o l i t i c a l structure.

The Dissenters existed from the

sixteenth century as a s p l i n t e r group within the Anglican Church, and

19

were attempting was

to p o l i t i c a l l y " p u r i f y " or reform i t .

This c o n f l i c t

l a r g e l y one over church government, though during the Puritan

Revolution i t became a matter of national government also.

The

Dissenters were opposed s p e c i f i c a l l y to church government by prelates, but even here, the various sects within the so-called Puritan Church were i n c o n f l i c t with one another.

Presbyterians, Independents,

Baptists, Quakers, Brownists, Separatists, Muggletonians and so forth, a l l had t h e i r own

ideas on the various p o l i t i c a l structures which

should constitute the r u l i n g system of the Anglican Church.

Defoe's

p a r t i c u l a r sect, the Presbyterians, did stress the doctrine of predestination but p o l i t i c a l l y were to the " r i g h t , " closer to the central doctrines of the Anglican Church (though s t i l l dissenting from i t ) than any of the other Puritan sects."'"

In f a c t , the

Presbyterians weren't o f f i c i a l l y excluded from the Anglican Church u n t i l the Act of Uniformity passed i n Parliament t r y i n g to formulate

i n 1662.

Consequently,

a series of precise statements on the p o l i t i c a l

doctrines of Puritanism would be as d i f f i c u l t as t r y i n g to

formulate

a s i m i l a r c o l l e c t i o n of statements on r e l i g i o u s doctrine. In approaching Defoe's writings, then, this problem i n d e f i n i t i o n becomes more than simply a biographical quandary.

Defoe

never actually reveals h i s "true" r e l i g i o n i n his published writings, and i f we did not know that he came from a Presbyterian family, we would have some d i f f i c u l t y i n l a b e l l i n g him according to r e l i g i o u s belief.

Even i n such autobiographical pieces as "An Appeal to Honour

and J u s t i c e " (1715), or i n such moralizing works as Religious Courtship

20

(1722) and The Family Instructor (1715, 1718), Defoe always assumes a broader and more generalized r e l i g i o u s view.

Consequently, i n

reading Defoe's f i c t i o n , one never finds clear statements of basic Puritan doctrine; rather, one finds broader, perhaps more "universal," r e l i g i o u s themes (at least i n the Protestant sense).

George Starr

summarizes this c r i t i c a l problem with Defoe and h i s r e l i g i o n i n Defoe and Casuistry, where he points out that i n researching the writings of both Anglicans and Puritans i n the seventeenth century, "Not. only does agreement greatly outweigh d i s a g r e e m e n t b u t ment does not necessarily follow sectarian l i n e s .

disagree-

One object i n

c i t i n g Anglican as well as Nonconformist divines i s to suggest that Defoe's Puritanism

(and for that matter post-Restoration

Puritanism

i t s e l f ) i s a complex problem which c a l l s for further exploration, not a s e t t l e d h i s t o r i c a l fact on which interpretations of his l i f e and 2 works can p r o f i t a b l y be based."

Further, Starr remarks i n h i s

Defoe and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography, " i t becomes clear that the leading r e l i g i o u s ideas i n Defoe's f i c t i o n were i n fact commonplaces of the English Protestant t r a d i t i o n , not merely crotchets of h i s much3 discussed Dissenting m i l i e u . " This b r i e f sketch of the d i f f i c u l t i e s inherent i n generating accurate d e f i n i t i o n s of Puritanism and Defoe's own r e l i g i o u s ideology indicates the l e v e l on which Defoe's Robinson Crusoe should be approached.

Rather than looking f o r parts of the text which might

s p e c i f i c a l l y point to something called a "Puritan theme," one should approach the novel from a point of generalization:

that i s , from

a broad view of the English Protestant ideology to a p a r t i c u l a r application

21

of the ideology to Robinson Crusoe.

The argument, then, must be from the

general to the p a r t i c u l a r — d e f i n i n g the ideology, then applying i t in a close c r i t i c a l

analysis of Robinson Crusoe i n order to show that

what at f i r s t might seem a paradox between moral theory and economic fact i s subsumed i n a coherent philosophy held by the author.

The

primary objective of this chapter i s to define a s t r u c t u r a l pattern i n Robinson Crusoe which incorporates both the r e l i g i o u s and economic themes into a pattern of interaction and development. for

The reason

this approach i s simply that with this s t r u c t u r a l view of the

novel at hand—an interpretation which indicates a balanced structure and an integration of themes—one can then move on to the larger idediogieal and thematic framework which this f o r m a l i s t i c pattern indicates:

that of the growing importance of the concept of individualism

i n the r e l i g i o u s , s o c i a l , and p o l i t i c a l thought of the day.

Robinson

Crusoe, then, w i l l be analysed not as a book i s o l a t e d from i t s h i s t o r i c a l period, but as i t was most l i k e l y read and appreciated by the l i t e r a t e , educated person who purchased a copy of the f i r s t edition i n 1719.

In this manner, the contemporary

reader i s made

aware of the i d e o l o g i c a l background of the novel, for only i n this way can one gain a broader c r i t i c a l

understanding of Robinson

Crusoe

in p a r t i c u l a r , and of Defoe's work i n general.

|I.

The Religious Theme

Basic to both Anglican and Puritan religious b e l i e f i s a core of

i n t e r r e l a t e d concepts which can be discussed under three general

22

categories:

the importance of the i n d i v i d u a l as indicated i n a form of

"sub-" or " p r e - l i t e r a t u r e " and a concomitant emblematic way

of viewing

r e a l i t y , Providence, and the doctrine of the c a l l i n g . F i r s t , as i s indicated by both Puritan and Anglican writings of the seventeenth and eighteenth

centuries, the i n d i v i d u a l soul was

the place wherein the divine l i g h t of grace could be cherished,

and 4

this soul consequently became the b a t t l e f i e l d between Satan and

God.

Perhaps, with the usual reservations, one can assume that this doctrine i s more Puritan than Anglican in nature, for i t at least i s a fundamental theme i n Puritan l i t e r a t u r e , both imaginative

and f a c t u a l .

Bunyan, for example, stresses both this popular conception

John of the human

soul and the importance of the i n d i v i d u a l looking inward into his soul i n the scene at the Interpreter's House in Pilgrim's

Progress.

This scene resolves i t s e l f into an a l l e g o r i c a l depiction of the b a t t l e between good and e v i l within the human heart:

in the individual's

heart burns the f i r e of grace onto which Satan, standing at one side, casts water, and C h r i s t , standing on the other side, pours the "Oyl of his Grace."

The i n d i v i d u a l person, Bunyan implies, should

v i t a l l y concerned with his own

be

soul, should watch i t c a r e f u l l y , and

should keep the divine f i r e well-fed.^

This basic idea of a r e l i g i o u s

introspection, here exemplified i n Bunyan's allegory, becomes the impetus behind the writing of most of the s p i r i t u a l autobiographies the time, including, of course, Bunyan's own

of

Grace Abounding.

The intensely i n d i v i d u a l i s t i c concern over the s p i r i t u a l welfare of the soul leads n a t u r a l l y , as William Haller would have i t i n his Rise of Puritanism,

to a form of l i t e r a t u r e termed s p i r i t u a l autobiography.

23

Each properly r e l i g i o u s man

observes this s p i r i t u a l warfare i n his

heart, and, as a consequence of h i s observations, writes a daily journal, usually beginning with his s p i r i t u a l r e b i r t h (since this event marks the beginning of his observations and r e f l e c t i o n s ) , and consisting almost e n t i r e l y of his s p i r i t u a l and metaphysical ruminations and struggles for that p a r t i c u l a r day.

Because of the dynamic tendencies

and missionary zeal of the early Puritans, these records were usually published (and especially i f the author i s also an i n f l u e n t i a l preacher) in order to i n s t r u c t others i n the workings of grace and in ways to overcome Satan's forces.

Closely following these autobiographies,

in both form and content, are " i n s t r u c t i o n " or "guide" books, which teach interested readers how diseased parts they find.

to look into t h e i r souls and cure what

Thus, in the seventeenth century, an

entire l i t e r a t u r e of s p i r i t u a l instruction, i s born, consisting of books written by such Puritan divines as William Perkins, William Ames, and Richard Baxter, and s p i l l i n g over into the works of Anglican bishops such as H a l l , Sanderson, and Barlow'. works indicate their most fundamental themes:

And the t i t l e s of these Christian

Warfare,

Doctrine of the Beginnings of Christ, Discourse about the State of True Happiness, The New

B i r t h , The Whole Armor of God, Seven Treatises,

Containing Such Directions as i s gathered out of the Holie Scriptures, leading and guiding to true happiness, both i n this l i f e , and i n the l i f e to come, and may be c a l l e d the practise of C h r i s t i a n i t i e . P r o f i t a b l e for a l l such as h e a r t i l y desire the same: p a r t i c u l a r l y true Christians may comfortable l i f e everyday

learn how

i n which, more

to leade a godly and

(known popularly as Seven Treatises).

24

These biographies, autobiographies, and guide-books, bom

and

bred of the conversion experience and the doctrine of ideas inherited with that experience, influenced the religiously-based l i t e r a t u r e that followed i n both form and content.

In a f o r m a l i s t i c sense, the

narrative structure of this l i t e r a t u r e , because of an "emblematic" view of the world, tends to dissolve into a series of scenes and events, each of which could be interpreted for i t s s p i r i t u a l significance. George Starr points out that this l e d naturally to the r e l i g i o u s

man

seeing h i s l i f e as a series of r e l i g i o u s l y s i g n i f i c a n t episodes.^ Thus, i n the summary of the s p i r i t u a l t r i b u l a t i o n s of the day, the autobiographer or d i a r i s t looks p a r t i c u l a r l y for signs of God's favor or disfavor.

In other words, to the Puritan (and, of course, to the

Anglican), second causes are without a doubt merely results of a F i r s t Cause, for every outward occurrence i s a s i g n — a n emblem— containing certain, innate s p i r i t u a l significance.

This emblematic

way of perceiving the world lays stress on the representational aspects of situations and objects i n that world.

An i n v i s i b l e hand of God—

P r o v i d e n c e — i s always at work i n this world, and the i n d i v i d u a l person i s duty-bound to delve below mere appearance i n order to read the s p i r i t u a l r e a l i t i e s manifested underneath.

The anonymous author of

Christian Conversation, i n Six Dialogues, for example, states that " ' t i s obvious to every man

i n the least conversant with the Scriptures,

that everywhere heavenly things are set forth by earthly representations; and that i n great mercy and condescension to our capacities and g

understandings, and as helps to our f a i t h . "

And John Livingstone

observes among Scottish Presbyterians i n Ireland i n the 1620s that

25

"some of them had attained such a dexterity of expressing r e l i g i o u s purposes by the resemblance

of worldly things, that being at feasts

in common inns, where were ignorant profane persons, they would, among themselves, i n t e r t a i n s p i r i t u a l l discourse for ane long time; and the other professed, that although they spake good English, they

9 could not understand what they s a i d . "

The purposes to which an

author could apply this interesting g i f t of s p i r i t u a l sight are either i n an explanatory, autobiographical manner as i s implied in the t i t l e of James Janeway's work, I n v i s i b l e s , R e a l i t i e s , Demonstrated in the Holy L i f e and Triumphant Death of Mr. John Janeway, or i n a more r e f l e c t i v e manner as i n Ralph Austen's The S p i r i t u a l l use of an Orchard, or Garden of Fruit Trees. In actual fact, though, the unifying formal structure of the s p i r i t u a l autobiography i s to be found elsewhere, i n the conversion process of the human soul which gave r i s e to this emblematic v i s i o n , and i n the various metaphors which were used and reused continually by the Puritan and Anglican authors.

This standard pattern i s an

account of the writer's early, depraved l i f e — u s u a l l y , the more l u r i d in d e t a i l the b e t t e r — a provocation to repentance followed by a series of r e f l e c t i o n s , the conversion experience i t s e l f , and a subsequent account of a l i f e f i l l e d with r e l i g i o u s r e f l e c t i o n s , backslidings, and so on, with a standard death-bed v i c t o r y over the forces of e v i l . Once again, George Starr points o u t — t h i s time with s p e c i f i c reference to Robinson Crusoe—that "Conversion i s clearly the p i v o t a l phase i n the sequence:... each stage not only precedes or follows conversion i n point of time, but takes on significance wholly as a preparation or

26

obstacle to i t beforehand, or as a r e s u l t or retrogression from i t once achieved. The emblematic v i s i o n of the Protestant divines led naturally into a metaphorical view of l i f e .

S p e c i f i c a l l y , the standard metaphors

which ordered the r e l i g i o u s world v i s i o n of the seventeenth-century Protestant were the view of l i f e as a journey or pilgrimage, geographical wandering as s p i r i t u a l alienation from God, the wilderness and " l o s t soul" metaphor, and i n fact, that overriding view of a l l objects

and situations i n the world as being vehicles for the

conveyance of a s p i r i t u a l meaning. of

This view of r e a l i t y r e s u l t s ,

course, i n the a l l e g o r i c a l interpretation of the l i f e of man i n

the world and naturally influenced an author l i k e John Bunyan i n the construction of works such as Pilgrim's Progress and The L i f e and Death of Mr. Badman.

The same metaphorical v i s i o n works throughout

Robinson Crusoe, but a more complete understanding of that mechanism of God's responsible for c o n t r o l l i n g events and situations i n this world i s necessary before we turn s p e c i f i c a l l y to Defoe's novel. The prevailing use of emblems and metaphors i n the seventeenth and eighteenth century s p i r i t u a l autobiographies, d i a r i e s , and sermons indicates a strong b e l i e f i n the workings of Providence i n this f a l l e n world.

Crusoe himself defines Providence i n his Serious Reflections,

the t h i r d and f i n a l work of Defoe's dealing with this "mariner of York."

In a chapter e n t i t l e d "Of Listening to the Voice of Providence,"

Crusoe states that this s p i r i t u a l manifestation consists of "that operation of the power, wisdom, j u s t i c e , and goodness of God by which He influences, governs, and directs not only the means, but the events

27

of a l l things which concern us i n this world" (III, 178).

To

Crusoe, the d e f i n i t e existence of a Providence a c t i v e l y causing events to take place i n this world indicates that God e x i s t s , and i n a rather c i r c u l a r piece of l o g i c , this proof of God's existence leads to two further

assumptions:

1. That this eternal God guides by His providence the whole world, which Hehas" created by His power. 2. That this Providence manifests a p a r t i c u l a r care over and concern i n the governing and directing [of] man, the best and l a s t created creature on earth. ( I l l , 178) That Providence which i s responsible f o r the correct mechanical operation of the universe i s also responsible for guiding the a f f a i r s of men i n general.

And, i n p a r t i c u l a r , Providence plays a major

role i n the a f f a i r s of i n d i v i d u a l persons.

Thus, the polemical

purpose of Crusoe's chapter and the impetus behind the writing of s p i r i t u a l autobiographies, exempla, and guide books are one and the same:

"By l i s t e n i n g to the voice of Providence, I mean to study i t s

meaning i n every circumstance of l i f e , i n every event; to learn to understand the end and design of Providence i n everything that happens, what i s the design of Providence i n i t respecting ourselves, and what our duty to do upon the p a r t i c u l a r occasion that o f f e r s " ( I I I , 181-182). Providence, therefore, guides and directs those who pay heed to i t s voice—who, i n fact, can discern the workings of a F i r s t Cause behind second causes.

Many of Defoe's writings, from The

Storm (1704) to The Journal of the Plague Year (1722), i l l u s t r a t e the working of this s p i r i t u a l force behind the mask of events, f o r both the storm and the plague were sent as warnings to the English nation

28

to cease i t s wicked ways, and thus represent a c a l l to repentance. As Crusoe himself states i n his Farther Adventures, " I f we do not allow a v i s i b l e Curse to pursue v i s i b l e Crimes, how

s h a l l we reconcile the

Events of Things with the Divine Justice?" (II, 181).

Or, this at

least i s one function of Providence; i t i s God's v i s i b l e warning to unrepentant sinners.

And Crusoe, i n this case, follows standard r e l i g i o u s

doctrine in assuming that the reason f o r the punishment can be read in the punishment i t s e l f . On the other hand, Providence maintains a "guide and d i r e c t i o n " status by indicating what " c a l l i n g " one should pursue.

This indication

occurs on two l e v e l s — o n e s p i r i t u a l and one mundane—which correspond to what sermonizers term a general c a l l i n g and a p a r t i c u l a r c a l l i n g . The general c a l l i n g , as Robert Sanderson

defines i t i n XXXVI Sermons

(1689), " i s that wherewith God c a l l e t h us...to the f a i t h and of the Gospel, and to the embracing

obediance

of the Covenant of Grace."

The

p a r t i c u l a r c a l l i n g " i s that wherewith God enableth us, and directeth us...on to some special course and condition of l i f e , wherein to employ ourselves, and to exercise the g i f t s he hath bestowed upon 11 us."

Thus Charles and Catherine George, i n t h e i r book on The Protestant

Mind of the English Reformation, point out that "A man's proper c a l l i n g i s determined by the providence of God and i s matched by the possession 12 of natural g i f t s appropriate to the tasks involved." then, acts to c a l l men

Providence,

f i r s t to the proper r e l i g i o n (in this case,

Protestant C h r i s t i a n i t y ) and second to a p a r t i c u l a r station in l i f e . The emphasis i n the l a t t e r i s s o c i a l and economic i n nature:

a person

employs h i s own capacities and a b i l i t i e s as these have been given him by Providence i n h i s occupation and consequently i n the maintenance of

29 s o c i a l and economic order.

Or as William Perkins, a noted Puritan divine,

asserts, "A vocation of c a l l i n g i s a certaine kind of l i f e , ordained and imposed on man by God, for the common good."

Perkins goes on to

point out: Now a l l societies of men, are bodies...the common wealth also, and i n these bodies there be several members, which are men walking i n several c a l l i n g s and o f f i c e s , the execution whereof, must tend to the happy and good estate of the rest; yea of a l l men every where, as much as possible i s . . . . Here then we must i n generall know, that he abuseth his c a l l i n g whosoever he be that against the end thereof, imployes i t for himselfe, seeking wholly his owne and not the common good. And that common saying, Every man for himselfe, and God for us a l l , i s wicked, and i s directed against the end of every c a l l i n g , or honest kind of l i f e . 1 3 To refuse to accept one's p a r t i c u l a r c a l l i n g , then, i s both a s i n against society and a s i n against God. In fact, r e l i g i o u s treatises throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries are f i l l e d with examples of Adam's, Jonah's, Balaam's, and prodigal sons who, through pride i n some cases and fear i n others, s i n against the s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s order, s i n against Providence, and therefore s i n against God.

And, working well with these favorite r e l i g i o u s themes, Defoe

sets out immediately i n Robinson Crusoe to give the reader t h i s moral perspective on his main character. The f i r s t pages of Robinson Crusoe set the moral and religious theme.

Crusoe, born the son'of a r e t i r e d middle-class merchant who had

made his modest fortune "by merchandise,"

finds his head " f i l l e d very

early with rambling thoughts," and terms this wanderlust a " f a t a l . . . propension of nature tending d i r e c t l y to the l i f e of misery which was

to b e f a l l me" (I, 4).

Thus, the reader, i s immediately presented

with a b u i l t - i n moral outlook, for physical and emotional states, and

30

events themselves, are described and interpreted through the moral viewpoint of an older and wiser Crusoe.

In f a c t , this narrative

d e v i c e — i n d i c a t e d through the consistent use of the past tense., a technique of foreshadowing, and continual didactic and moralizing i n t r u s i o n s — g i v e s the text i t s e l f a "double perspective:" an event, for example, occurs both on a l e v e l of " r e a l i s t i c " adventure and on a possible moral and r e l i g i o u s l e v e l .

This double perspective i s

important as i t allows us to posit a shaping v i s i o n at work i n Robinson Crusoe, s e l e c t i n g , modifying, and interpreting events, and thus indicating the p o s s i b i l i t y of a d e f i n i t e structure i n a book considered by some to be a rather haphazard travel books and adventure s t o r i e s .

compendium of second-hand

The pattern emerges almost

immediately, brought into focus by a t r a i n of r e l i g i o u s allusions and metaphors and by Crusoe's own method of describing and moralizing. The young Crusoe dreams of going to sea and making his own fortune.

He i s not content with the "middle station of l i f e " so

assiduously recommended by h i s father, who warns h i s son that i f he does take "this f o o l i s h step" God would not bless him, and he "would have leisure hereafter to r e f l e c t upon having neglected his counsel when there might be none to assist me i n my recovery" ( I , 16).

Crusoe

c a l l s his father's words " t r u l y prophetic," and indeed they are.

He

ships out three different times, and on his f i r s t voyage he nearly drowns.

He i s successful on h i s second venture, r e a l i z i n g a considerable

p r o f i t , but even i n this case he only appears to be a successful trader-adventurer.

His success i s , i n one sense, merely a temptation—

e s s e n t i a l l y an e v i l one at t h a t — t o further voyages, and on his third

31

venture he i s captured by Moorish pirates.

He manages to escape

from the Moorish c i t y , Salee, and through the aid of a Portuguese captain who

eventually rescues him,

finds both new

wealth as a plantation owner in B r a z i l .

l i f e and

new

But, his " f a t a l propension"

drives him on to undertake a slaving expedition which ends i n a shipwreck and his i s o l a t i o n on an.island.

He has, then, twenty-

eight years to r e f l e c t on his father's warning.

In f a c t , throughout

these early adventures we are constantly reminded of Crusoe's father's warning, and h i s statement impresses i t s e l f on Crusoe's mind with an almost god-like profundity.

This would indicate, i f we follow the

seventeenth century doctrine of r e l i g i o u s correspondences, that for "father" we

can substitute "God."

"a wise and grave man"

who

The old merchant i s described

as

gives his son' "his testimony to this [the

middle station of l i f e ] as the just standard of true f e l i c i t y " " F e l i c i t y , " in.the eighteenth

(I, 4).

century r e l i g i o u s context, defines

the

14 state of the unfalien Adam,

and Crusoe's father uses the word to

refer to a kind of edenic middle-class

existence.

Perhaps, then,

f e l i c i t y means both, for the old man's description of that middle states comes very close to not only a description of the virtuous l i f e of a Puritan, but also to an earthly paradise, emblematic of the o r i g i n a l Eden.

In this f e l i c i t o u s middle station, one finds "temperance,

moderation, quietness, health, society, a l l agreeable diversions, and a l l desireable pleasures" way,

(I, 3).

The middle station i s the middle

and by resting content i n that proper place, one i s not tempted

to the s i n of hybris.

Crusoe i s so tempted, however, for he leaves his

home "without God's blessing, or my

father's," and he goes "against

32

the w i l l , nay the commands" of h i s father (I, 8). The meaning i m p l i c i t in this recounting of a f a l l from grace i s made e x p l i c i t l a t e r when, after spending several years i n i s o l a t i o n on a desert i s l e , Crusoe c a l l s his departure from home his " o r i g i n a l s i n : " I have been i n a l l my circumstances a memento to those who are touched with the general plague of mankind, whence, for ought I know, one h a l f of their miseries flow; I mean, that of not being s a t i s f i e d with the station wherein God and Nature had placed them; f o r , not to look back upon my primitive condition and the excellent advice of my father, the opposition to which was, as I may c a l l i t , my o r i g i n a l s i n , my subsequent mistakes of the same kind had been the means of my coming into this miserable condition; for had that'Providence, which so happily had seated me at the B r a z i l s as a planter, blessed me with confined desires, and I could have been contented to have gone on gradually, I might have been by this time, I mean i n the time of my being i n this i s l a n d , one of the most considerable planters i n the B r a z i l s . . . . ( I , 215) Crusoe's e x p l i c i t reference to disobedience and o r i g i n a l s i n , hheralded by the phrase "the general plague of mankind," indicates that paternal disobedience means the same thing as disobedience of God. His l i f e i s , as he terms i t , a "memento":

a reenactmenf of the almost

archetypal pattern of the l i f e of a Protestant divine.

Thus Crusoe

himself becomes an everyman—a prodigal son—who l i v e s a l i f e according to the pattern of s i n , repentance, and grace. If we consider Crusoe's early disobedience as his o r i g i n a l s i n , then h i s f a l l from the "middle s t a t i o n " makes

him an "old Adam"

whose travels represent a s p i r i t u a l e x i l e from the edenic s o c i a l existence propounded by his father.

Quite simply, the "old Adam"

i s , i n one sense, the o r i g i n a l Adam who inhabited the o r i g i n a l paradise and who f e l l through the s i n of pride.

After his f a l l , the "old Adam"

grew wild, or as Henry Parker, a Puritan pamphleteer, writes i n h i s Observations upon some of his Majesties Late Answers and Expresses

(1642),

33

man

"grew so untame and u n c i v i l l a creature that the Law of God

written i n his breast was not s u f f i c i e n t to restrayne him from mischiefe....Defoe

himself writes, i n The Family Instructor, that

"The effect of [Adam's] s i n i s a corrupt Taint which we a l l bring into the world with us, and which we find upon our Nature, by which we

find

a Natural Propensity i n us to do E v i l , and no natural I n c l i n a t i o n to do Good.. .."^

This "mischiefe" or "corrupt Taint" which resides i n

every human being makes everyone an "old Adam," and every human l i f e , then, i s a reenactment of the story of the wayfaring prodigal son. Crusoe's own story i s no exception to this rule.

For example,

during the f i r s t storm, i n which he nearly drowns, Crusoe resolves to

return home:

"Now

I saw p l a i n l y the goodness of his

[Crusoe's

father] observations about the middle station of l i f e , how

easy, how

comfortably he had l i v e d a l l h i s days, and never had been exposed to

tempests at sea or troubles on shore; and I resolved that I would,

l i k e a true repenting prodigal, go home to my father" (I, 9).

Of

course, this reference to the prodigal son i s i r o n i c i n i n t e n t i o n , for as soon as the storm abates, so does CCrusoe's resolution.

But the

prodigal son i s mentioned several more times during Crusoe's narration of his early l i f e , buttressing that m o r a l i s t i c and religious perspective through which we view that l i f e and indicating both a formal pattern and a pattern of r e l i g i o u s psychology which w i l l suffuse Defoe's novel. The l i f e pattern of the prodigal son i s simply a ree^nactment of the disobedience,

f a l l , and eventual redemption of the old Adam, and

t h i s can be seen as the pattern of Crusoe's own

life.

Crusoe, then,

exemplifies the t y p i c a l psychology of the prodigal son and the old

34

Adam.

At one point i n his story, just after young Crusoe has been

counting the p r o f i t s from his several years as a plantation owner in B r a z i l , the older Crusoe intrudes once again with a didactic comment: Had I continued in the station I was i n , I had room for a l l the happy things to have yet befallen me, for which my father so earnestly recommended a quiet, r e t i r e d l i f e , and of which he had so sensibly described the middle of l i f e to be f u l l of; but other things attended me, and I was s t i l l to be the w i l f u l agent of a l l my own miseries; and p a r t i c u l a r l y to increase my fault and double the r e f l e c t i o n s upon myself, which in my future sorrows I should have leisure to make; a l l these miscarriages were procured by my apparent obstinate adhering to my f o o l i s h i n c l i n a t i o n , i n contradiction to the clearest views of doing myself good i n a f a i r and p l a i n pursuit of those prospects and those measures of l i f e which Nature and Providence concurred to present me with and to make my duty. As I had once done i n my breaking away from my parents, so I would not be content now but I must go and leave the happy view I had of being a r i c h and t h r i v i n g man i n my new plantation only to pursue a rash and immoderate desire of r i s i n g faster than the nature of the thing admitted; and thus I cast myself down again into the deepest gulf of human misery that ever man f e l l into, or perhaps would be consistent with my l i f e and a state of health in the world. ( I , 41-42) The reference here i s to the slaving expedition Crusoe w i l l

undertake

which w i l l end i n a shipwreck and his own i s o l a t i o n on the i s l a n d . But Crusoe also a r t i c u l a t e s the basic theme of the book, a theme explained with reference to the psychology of the prodigal son as found in numbers of seventeenth century r e l i g i o u s works:

"a rash and immoderate

desire of r i s i n g faster than the nature.of the thing admitted" i s exactly the s i n f u l frame of mind of the prodigal son which results in h i s wild and i r r a t i o n a l pursuits.

Just as Adam i s evicted from

Eden and forced to wander the earth, so the prodigal son, according to John Goodman i n The Penitant Pardon'd (1694), "grows Male-content with his condition; and finding himself restrained, the proud waves of

35

his passion rage and swell against a l l that bounds and checks them.... He finds h i s condition not to his mind, and...he i s tempted to run upon adventures....""'''' Thus, through h i s w i l f u l and p r i d e f u l d i s obedience of his f a t h e r — h i s o r i g i n a l s i n — C r u s o e tomes to represent both the f a l l e n Adam and the prodigal son, and h i s geographical i s o l a t i o n and wandering becomes a metaphoric representation of s p i r i t u a l i s o l a t i o n and e r r i n g .

This l a t t e r theme goes back to Pilgrim's Progress

at least, and further i f we" were to trace the life-as-pilgrimage and wilderness metaphors i n older Protestant l i t e r a t u r e .

The adventure

pattern i n Robinson Crusoe—the pattern of geographical t r a v e l s — becomes what amounts to a c o n t r o l l i n g r e l i g i o u s metaphor through at least the early part of the book.

And George Starr, i n f a c t , finds

i t a unifying pattern i n a l l of Defoe's f i c t i o n : I have argued...that Robinson Crusoe uses wandering, f l e e i n g , straying, and other images of anxious motion to indicate the hero's alienation from 'the true center of his being.' Through a kind of a l l u s i v e shorthand, Defoe associates geographical remoteness with s p i r i t u a l malaise (Adam unparadised, the Prodigal 'in a far country,' e t c . ) . Crusoe i s 'errant' at f i r s t i n both body and soul; eventually, returning home and coming to rest indicate his achievement (however precarious or temporary) of s p i r i t u a l soundness. The careers of a l l of Defoe's heroes and heroines can be charted s p a t i a l l y i n the same way; centrifugal motion sooner or l a t e r gives way to centripetal motion, which culminates i n motifs of return, reunion, and repose.18 Therefore, i n Robinson Crusoe, the author's early references to the prodigal son ( I ; 9, 15) and to young Crusoe as another Jonah ( I ; 10, 16) f l e s h out the bare adventure pattern, giving the book a deeper s p i r i t u a l significance that has also been indicated through the steady rhythm of moral comment delivered by the older Crusoe and through continual reference to the workings of Providence in Crusoe's l i f e .

36

Crusoe's world, then, i s an emblematic

one, for many of the

events described are seen through the "moral" frame as a direct result of the workings of Providence.

And, this correlation between event

and some kind of s p i r i t u a l significance allows the reader to see a pattern of experience emerging i n the book, for experience i t s e l f i s closely t i e d to Crusoe's own s p i r i t u a l development even though the pattern of experience ( i . e . , wandering and adventure) seems, at f i r s t , merely counterpointed to the older Crusoe's knowledge of that experience. Crusoe's world i s one i n which Providence a c t i v e l y intervenes i n the l i v e s of i n d i v i d u a l men, and a world i n which the i n d i v i d u a l must learn to read his own s p i r i t u a l state i n his perceptions of P r o v i d e n t i a l l y guided events.

I t i s just this emblematic v i s i o n which

Crusoe must be made aware o f . F i r s t , Crusoe's wrong c h o i c e — h i s leaving home to set o f f on adventures—brings an immediate warning from heaven. Crusoe i s on board ship.

A storm rises while

He fears death and, i n his desperate state,

believes that perhaps h i s repentance w i l l cause the storm to abate. F i l l e d , consequently, with "wise and sober thoughts," he vows to go home, and the storm does abate.

However, he f a l l s i n with bad companions

and, " i n that one night's wickedness," he "drowns" (negates) h i s repentance, r e f l e c t i o n s , and resolutions (I, 10).

Crusoe belabors h i s

sinfulness for another page, and the storm strikes again, this time sinking the ship.

The crew i s saved, and afterwards, on shore, the

vessel's captain exhorts Crusoe to return to his father and not tempt Providence.

Crusoe, according to the captain, "might see a

v i s i b l e hand of Heaven" against him:

"You see what a taste Heaven has

given you of what you are to expect i f you p e r s i s t ; perhaps this i s a l l

37

b e f a l l e n us on your account, l i k e Jonah i n the ships of Tarshish" (I, 17). This emblematic way of interpreting events becomes a basic narrative pattern i n Robinson Crusoe, consolidating the r e l i g i o u s theme and the actual narrative structure of the book, and working i n close conjunction with the metaphoric adventure pattern.

On the

simplest l e v e l of narration an event or sequence of events i s narrated, then a religious s i g n i f i c a t i o n i s given to that event.

This pattern

i s , of course, part of that rhythm of moral comment, but takes on even greater s t r u c t u r a l s i g n i f i c a n c e when one realizes that i t does i n fact suffuse the entire book.

The perception of a F i r s t Cause behind

second causes becomes, gradually, a part of the pattern of Crusoe's thought, and consequently a part of the pattern of the book, forming a religious superstructure of both form and content.

For example,

when Crusoe has been alone on his island for only a short while, the famous "miracle" of the corn occurs: It was a l i t t l e before the great rains, just now mentioned, that I threw this s t u f f [ i . e . , the corn] taking no notice of anything and not so much as remembering that I had thrown anything there, when about a month a f t e r or thereabout I saw some few stalks of something green shooting out of the ground, which I fancied might be some plant I had not seen; but I was surprised and p e r f e c t l y astonished when a f t e r a l i t t l e r longer time I saw about ten or twelve ears come out which were perfect green barley of the same kind as our European, nay, as our English barley. It i s impossible to express the astonishment and confusion of my thoughts on this occasion; I had hitherto acted upon no r e l i g i o u s foundation at a l l ; indeed I had very few notions of r e l i g i o n i n my head er had entertained any sense of anything that had b e f a l l e n me otherwise than as a chance, or, as we l i g h t l y say, what pleases God; without so much as inquiring into the end of Providence i n these things or His order i n

38

governing events i n the world. But after I saw barley grow there, i n a climate which I know was not proper for corn, and especially that I knew not how i t came there, i t s t a r t l e d me strangely and I began to suggest that God had miraculously caused this grain to grow without any help of seed sown and that i t was so directed purely for my sustenance on that wild miserable place. ( I , 86-87) The narrative pattern here i s that of a described event, then an explication of that event with a view to i t s s p i r i t u a l s i g n i f i c a n c e . The corn grows, and at f i r s t we might be tempted to say purely by accident.

But, i n the f i c t i o n a l world of this novel, i t i s

Providence which causes the corn to grow.

And so Crusoe t e l l s

us. Again, even the most mundane happening achieves a s p i r i t u a l significance through that moral and r e l i g i o u s framework which Crusoe the narrator i s so concerned i n emphasizing. to an understanding

This outlook, fundamental

of Robinson Crusoe, i s that same v i s i o n which

guided the Puritan and Anglican divines i n their pilgrimage through life.

J . Paul Hunter, i n The Reluctant Pilgrim, discusses this

way

of perceiving r e a l i t y with s p e c i f i c reference to Puritan ideology, and points to a correlation between event or object, and idea as being central to the Puritan v i s i o n :

"Contemporary events thus

became emblems of concepts, and the contemporary world i t s e l f became emblematic of the s p i r i t u a l or conceptual world which was

the ultimate

19

referent for a l l creation, the ultimate r e a l i t y . "

However, man i s

not simply born with this a b i l i t y to read accurately the s p i r i t u a l meanings i n second causes, rather i t i s a v i s i o n acquired slowly through learning and experience.

Thus, although the older Crusoe goes to great

lengths to a r t i c u l a t e the emblematic structure of r e a l i t y throughout his

39

book (such events as the rescue of Friday, Crusoe's rescue by an English ship, and even his own repentance are signalled by P r o v i d e n t i a l l y sent "dream-visions"), the young Crusoe must learn slowly, and p a i n f u l l y at times, to read s p i r i t u a l significance into events. The novel then, i n one sense, traces Crusoe's s p i r i t u a l education, and the episode of the grain becomes central to his religious development i n that i t leads d i r e c t l y into his conversion experience, which, i n turn, allows him to see the f u l l s p i r i t u a l significance of the events of his l i f e . Crusoe's early repentances are s u p e r f i c i a l :

he i s b l i n d to

Providence, or at least prefers to ignore i t s warnings, and he i s continually g u i l t y of the s i n of pride.

The importance of the grain

episode i n the development of the r e l i g i o u s theme through Crusoe i s that for the f i r s t on Providence.

Robinson

time young Crusoe begins thinking seriously

And, i t i s soon after this episode that he begins

praying to God.

To be sure, Crusoe s t i l l blunders on i r r e l i g i o u s l y

while b u i l d i n g his f o r t i f i c a t i o n s and storehouse.

For example,

he does set up a cross on h i s i s l a n d , but then uses i t only as a calendar and even neglects to keep his Sundays, " f o r , omitting my mark from them on my post, I forgot which was which" (I, 80). at

Yet,

the same time, the eighteenth-century reader would be aware that

Crusoe i s approaching some kind of important r e l i g i o u s experience, f o r events begin b u i l d i n g slowly toward h i s conversion.

He begins

thinking of Providence when the grain sprouts, but he s t i l l does not turn to God.

In f a c t , he merely blesses himself:

he i s proud that

Providence i s taking a hand i n his l i f e , but he i s not properly thankful.

40

From this point, nature begins acting up, i n d i c a t i n g , again through a doctrine of correspondences, that Crusoe has further s p i r i t u a l t r i b u l a t i o n s to endure.

E a r l i e r storms were interpreted as "God's

v i s i b l e warnings," and the earthquake and hurricane that Crusoe suffers through on h i s i s l a n d are also linked to things divine i n the

t e r r i f y i n g dream-vision that Crusoe has a short time l a t e r : I thought that I was s i t t i n g on the ground, on the outside of my w a l l , where I sat when the storm blew a f t e r the earthquake, and that I saw a man descend from a great black cloud, i n a bright flame of f i r e , and l i g h t upon the ground. He was a l l over as bright as a flame, so that I could but just bear to look towards him; his countenance was most inexpressibly dreadful, impossible f o r words to describe; when he stepped upon the ground with h i s feet, I thought the earth trembled, just as i t had done before i n the earthquake, and a l l the a i r looked, to my apprehension, as i f i t had been f i l l e d with flashes of f i r e . He was no sooner landed upon the earth but he moved forward towards me, with a long spear or weapon i n his hand, to k i l l me; and when he came to a r i s i n g ground, at some distance, or I heard a voice so t e r r i b l e , that i t i s impossible to express the terror of i t ; a l l that I can say I understood was t h i s : 'Seeing these things have not brought thee to repentance, now thou shalt die.' At which words, I thought he l i f t e d up the spear that was i n h i s hand, to k i l l me. (I, 97) This v i s i o n , with i t s i n t e r e s t i n g inclusion of the previous

concrete experience of a very real storm and earthquake, influences Crusoe to a f i n a l and permanent repentance.

He laments, upon waking,

that he has been the most "hardened" and "wicked" of men, has never

properly feared and venerated God.

and that he

At this point he

realizes the pattern of his l i f e has been that of a sinner who ignored a l l the signs of Providence:

has

he sees that his l i f e has been

a progression of one s i n after another, beginning with his "rebellious behavior" against his father, and culminating i n a punishment-through-

41

e x i l e on this "Island of Despair."

With new insight into h i s

condition, Crusoe has reached the center of his story, the p i v o t a l point i n h i s experience, and can now discern the pattern of his l i f e and the active intercession of Providence i n the events of h i s life. Crusoe's conversion leads to several pages of expostulations to God—much more convincing r e l i g i o u s acts than the b r i e f prayers he mumbles during various storms or h i s landing on the i s l a n d — a n d , most important with reference to Crusoe's new v i s i o n , a recapitulation of the major events of his l i f e now interpreted as i f Providence were playing an active part: The growing up of the corn, as i s hinted i n my journal, had at f i r s t some l i t t l e influence upon me, and began to affect me with seriousness, as long as I thought i t had something miraculous i n i t ; but as soon as ever that part of the thought was removed, a l l the impression which was raised from i t wore o f f also, as I have noted already. Even the earthquake, though nothing would be more t e r r i b l e i n i t s nature or more immediately directing to the i n v i s i b l e Power which alone directs such things, yet no sooner was the f i r s t f r i g h t over but impression i t had made went o f f also. I had no more sense of God or His judgments, much less of the present a f f l i c t i o n of my circumstances begin from His hand, then i f I had been i n the most prosperous condition of l i f e . (T, 99-100) This awareness of a F i r s t Cause behind the events of his l i f e and the r e a l i z a t i o n that these events were, i n large part, e f f o r t s to get him to repent, helps to awaken Crusoe's conscience, and he begins seriously plumbing the depths of his own consciousness, r e f l e c t i n g on things divine. of

He reasons from postulates as basic as the existence

God, and he reconstructs, p a r t i a l l y from memory and p a r t i a l l y from

experience, the s p i r i t u a l cosmos of the Protestant r e l i g i o n :

42

Then, i f followed most n a t u r a l l y , I t i s God that has made i t a l l . Well, but then, i t came on strangely, i f God has made a l l these things, He guides and governs them a l l and a l l things that concern them; for the Power that could make a l l things must certainly have power to guide and direct them. If so, nothing can happen i n the great c i r c u i t of His works e i t h e r without His knowledge or appointment. (I, 102) From this point on Crusoe notes that events happen P r o v i d e n t i a l l y . If his physical i l l n e s s (he i s quite i l l at the time of h i s vision) i s emblematic of h i s s p i r i t u a l malais^ for he has reached his lowest physical and s p i r i t u a l state, then when he goes to his chest f o r tobacco to cure his fever, he also finds a B i b l e — " a cure both for soul and body."

He i s P r o v i d e n t i a l l y directed to open his Bible to

appropriate verses. on the island.

H/s thoughts pn Providence

Providence,

quiet h i s fears of savages

i t w i l l be pointed out, i s responsible

for h i s acquisition of Friday, since through a dream he knows he w i l l suceed i n obtaining a companion.

And f i n a l l y , Crusoe t e l l s us

A

that Providence

"had delivered me from so many unseen dangers and

had kept me from those mischiefs which I could no way have been the agent i n delivering myself from, because I had not the least notion of any such thing depending, or the least supposition of i t being possible" (I, 193). F i n a l l y , we are tempted to see the repentance scene as not only central to the development of a r e l i g i o u s pattern, but also a scene from which different patterns resonate throughout the novel. On the l e v e l of characterization, for example, Crusoe's postrepentance r e l i g i o u s r e f l e c t i o n s e s t a b l i s h a certain consistency i n his personality.

Such a consistency has been with us since the

43

beginning of the book, but only i n the moral frame imposed by the older Crusoe who i s narrating.

After the repentance, the moral and

r e l i g i o u s r e f l e c t i o n s become those of the younger Crusoe.

In f a c t ,

Crusoe never ceases r e f l e c t i n g on God and Providence, so that not only i s h i s character given consistency, but a unifying thematic concern ( i . e . , to point out the workings of Providence and thus to point d i d a c t i c a l l y to a moral) becomes manifest throughout the book. Crusoe states at one point, "These thoughts took me up many hours, days, nay, I may say, weeks and months" ( I , 174).

And at another time,

"I had t e r r i b l e r e f l e c t i o n s upon my mind for many months" ( I , 146).

Crusoe,

then, i s granted an i n t e r i o r i t y by virtue of his repentance which he did

not manifest through the e a r l i e r portions of the novel. On a l e v e l of action, Crusoe's repentance leads d i r e c t l y to

a further and wider exploration of the island.

Before, Crusoe

was concerned primarily with i s o l a t i n g himself from h i s environment. He b u i l t a fort to protect himself from any beasts or savages he might encounter. Now,

He never wandered past h i s immediate part of the island.

however, the f u l l y repentant Crusoe comes out of his

physical i s o l a t i o n to explore the island systematically.

protective Faith

has conquered fear, and again,,, the r e l i g i o u s theme works to give an emblematic significance to the adventure story. his

When Crusoe explores

i s l a n d , he discovers what amounts to an earthly paradise: At the end of this march I came to an opening, where the country seemed to descend to the west, and a l i t t l e spring of fresh water, which issued out of the side of the h i l l by me, run the other way, that i s , due east; and the country appeared so fresh, so green, so f l o u r i s h i n g , everything being i n a constant verdure, or f l o u r i s h of spring, that i t looked l i k e a planted garden.

44

I descended a l i t t l e on the side of that delicious vale, surveying i t with a secret kind of pleasure (though mixed with my other a f f l i c t i n g thoughts), to think that this was a l l my own, that I was King and lord of a l l this country indefeasibly and had a right of possession.... I saw here abundance of cocoa trees, orange, and lemon and citron trees.... ( I , 110-111) This d e l i g h t f u l picture of natura naturata leads Crusoe to thank God for h i s deliverance onto the i s l a n d , and he wishes h e a r t i l y he could stay for the rest of h i s l i f e .

At this point, he catches himself and

c a l l s himself a hypocrite for thinking t h i s when he would much rather be back i n English society. his

But, on the other hand, this view of

i s l a n d , and this t r a i n of thought, are a far cry from the "Island

of Despair" of Crusoe's f i r s t months of i s o l a t i o n . Of course, the i s l a n d i t s e l f has significance i n the pattern of

Crusoe's s p i r i t u a l development.

If Crusoe's o r i g i n a l s i n i s i n part

his

abandonment of the "middle station of l i f e " i n disobedience of

his

father, and his period of s p i r i t u a l erring i s emblemized i n h i s

wanderings and misfortunes, then his physical i s o l a t i o n on the island r e f l e c t s h i s s p i r i t u a l i s o l a t i o n from God. of

The meaning i m p l i c i t here,

course, i s that Crusoe being an everyman, a prodigal son, then h i s

s p i r i t u a l condition i s the same as that of every other human being. Only our mariner of York i s doubly a f f l i c t e d : h i s s p i r i t u a l s i n results i n s p i r i t u a l i s o l a t i o n while his s i n against the s o c i a l order (the

middle station) results i n physical i s o l a t i o n .

But, i f the

i s l a n d i s a place of i s o l a t i o n , then i t i s also a place of purgation. The i s l a n d occupies the center of Crusoe's narrative just as i t occupies the center of h i s s p i r i t u a l l i f e :

the years he spends on

the i s l a n d are those years i n which he develops h i s r e l i g i o u s b e l i e f

45

and h i s s p i r i t u a l being. of

Just as the s t r u c t u r a l and thematic center

the Protestant s p i r i t u a l autobiography i s that repentance scene

which leads to the s p i r i t u a l development of the writer, so i t i s i n Crusoe's narrative.

And, pushing our correspondences a b i t further,

i f the island i s a place of s p i r i t u a l purgation, then i t can also be emblematic of the wilderness of the f a l l e n world.

As archetype, the island

i s a place of repose, the garden of innocence, and i t s praises are sung throughout l i t e r a t u r e from Pindar's description of the land of the Hyperboreans i n his second Olympian to Andrew Marvell's eulogy on the Bermudas.

Crusoe's own "Happy I s l e " comes close at times to this garden-

i s l a n d , but his paradise also contains i t s snakes.

The "garden" he

discovers on his exploratory journey inland i s favored by nature, yet i t also contains lurking dangers.

Crusoe dares not eat the grapes

he finds there, f o r he might contract "the f l u x . "

They must be dried

into r a i s i n s , but when he sets out one batch they are trampled i n the night by what he assumes are "wild creatures" (I, 111-112).

Finally,

this edenic part of the i s l e i s near the side where the c a n n i b a l s — o r "natural men"—land and hold t h e i r "savage feasts."

Thus, although Crusoe

c a l l s the place a "natural garden," i t i s not as pleasant as i t f i r s t appears, and again we are tempted to say that t h i s part of the island represents a mere earthly E d e n — i l l u s o r y and f u l l of snares for the repentant and unrepentant sinner a l i k e . Because of the part played by Providence i n the novel, because of Defoe's apparent care i n working on both a l e v e l of adventure and a r e l i g i o u s l e v e l , and because of the obvious s t r u c t u r a l and thematic basis of Robinson Crusoe i n an e a r l i e r Protestant "subliterature,"

46

we must agree with Nigel Dennis that "there was never a book i n 20 which God's hand was busier."

Providence

i s present as a part of

the moral frame at the beginning of the novel, i t i s active during Crusoe's early adventures, i t intervenes a l l the time on the island, and i t i s f i n a l l y present when Crusoe i s delivered from his isolation: Then I took my turn and embraced him [the captain of an English ship that has anchored at the island] as my d e l i v e r e r , and we rejoiced together. I told him I looked upon him as a man sent from Heaven to deliver me, and that the whole transaction seemed to be a chain of wonders; that such things as these were the testimonies we had of a secret hand of Providence governing the world, and an evidence that the eyes of an i n f i n i t e Power could search into the remotest corner of the world, and send help to the miserable whenever He pleased. I forgot not to l i f t up my heart i n thankfulness to Heaven; and what heart could forbear to bless Him, who had not only i n a miraculous manner provided for one i n such a wilderness and i n such a desolate condition, but from whom every deliverance must always be acknowledged to proceed. (I, 302-03) Providence,

an entity everpresent

throughout this novel, helps l i n k

parts into a whole, and allows the reader to place emblematic meanings on several of Crusoe's adventures.

Also, the s t r u c t u r a l pattern of o r i g i n a l

sin and the f a l l , followed by e x i l e , i s o l a t i o n , a conversion

and

repentance, and a f i n a l deliverance from s i n — t h a t pattern of the s p i r i t u a l autobiography and " l i v e s " of the Puritan s a i n t s — h e l p s to organize the narrative into a s i g n i f i c a n t l y structured unit.

But,

attthe same time, this unit lacks the precision of concrete reference which defines the allegory of the type written by John Bunyan or*Edmund Spenser.

47

Some c r i t i c s have argued that Robinson Crusoe i s very much a s p i r i t u a l allegory worthy of comparison with The Pilgrim's Progress (though not, perhaps, The Faerie Queen).

Edwin B. Benjamin, for example,

states that Defoe found s p i r i t u a l allegory to be the form most suited to h i s subject: Allegory seems to have been always congenial to the Puritan mind as a legitimate province i n which the imagination might.exercise i t s e l f ; and although at times i n the eighteenth century i t came to be looked down upon as a rather crude vehicle of l i t e r a r y expression, i t continued longer as a v i t a l t r a d i t i o n in the dissenting milieu i n which Defoe's mind was molded than i n more advanced i n t e l l e c t u a l and l i t e r a r y c i r c l e s . Defoe can hardly have been unaffected by the forces that shaped Bunyan and that accounted for the popularity of h i s a l l e g o r i e s . ^ In Benjamin's reading a l l of the fundamental a l l e g o r i c a l elements of Crusoe's story are covered:

Crusoe's father i s God, and Crusoe's

o r i g i n a l s i n i s disobedience; Crusoe i s expelled from Eden ("the middle station") and becomes a prodigal son, an exiled wanderer; in the a l l e g o r i c a l wilderness of the i s l a n d , he repents and duly notes his conversion i n a Journal which he began o r i g i n a l l y for p r a c t i c a l purposes but which now becomes a "Puritan" diary; and f i n a l l y , Crusoe, f u l l y repentent, i s delivered from h i s i s o l a t i o n and reenters society as a member of the "middle c l a s s . "

Benjamin's description i s general,

but both he and J. Paul Hunter, another defender of the a l l e g o r i c a l approach to Rob ins on Crus oe, can be more s p e c i f i c .

Benjamin points to

a c l u s t e r of minor symbols surrounding the repentance scene, showing that the sprouting grain i s "clearly...the seeds of grace s t i r r i n g i n [Crusoe's] heart and sending forth t h e i r f i r s t tender sprouts."

Crusoe,

soon after, fashions his f i r s t earthenware pot, and Bejamin terms this pot the reborn Crusoe, stating that "dissenting c i r c l e s were accustomed

48

to think and to express themselves i n terms of 'chosen vessels' and 22 seeds of grace or doctrine." However, "dissenting c i r c l e s " were not the only religious groups to think and perceive i n an emblematic way.

Catholics, as

well as Protestants, were accustomed, as Lynn White points out, to see nature "as a symbolic system through which God speaks to men: the ant i s a sermon to sluggards; r i s i n g flames are the symbols of the soul's a s p i r a t i o n . " And White goes on to remark that "This view of 23 nature was e s s e n t i a l l y a r t i s t i c rather than s c i e n t i f i c . " Defoe's day, seeds of a metaphysical

In

insecurity had begun to sprout,

as science and materialism began to share the center stage with older r e l i g i o u s modes of perception.

Even Hunter, i n arguing his a l l e g o r i c a l

interpretation of Defoe's f i r s t novel, i s forced to admit that i n the early eighteenth century "contemporary events and the contemporary world... operated only suggestively on man's perception, f o r the old precise system of analogies was gone, but even this small guide toward certitude gladdened the hearts of men bewildered by the r a p i d i t y of 24 changes i n their world." Just as there can be a difference between one's o r i g i n a l intention to produce an allegory and the fact that the product ends up to be not quite what he had i n mind, there can be a difference between allegory as a l i t e r a r y form and an emblematic way of perceiving r e a l i t y .

What

we have been discussing i n Robinson Crusoe i s the presence of a general i d e o l o g i c a l orientation to the world which controls, f o r the most part, both the form and the content of the novel.

Even assuming, with

Benjamin, that certain events and o b j e c t s — t h e sprouting grain and the p o t — a r e

granted an a l l e g o r i c a l significance, a large portion of the

49

narrative i s s t i l l s u b s t a n t i a l l y "outside" of any kind of s p i r i t u a l , emblematic interpretation.

And much of the delight countless readers

have received from the novel since i t s f i r s t appearance i n 1719 would remain unexplained. in a general way

Defoe perhaps uses an e x i s t i n g l i t e r a r y form

to unify and pattern his book, but an even more

pervading formal unity can be apprehended by incorporating that other, economic, theme and pattern into our reading of Robinson Crusoe.

Mr.

Benjamin i s led to remark that "side by side with Crusoe's physical conquest of nature i s his struggle to conquer himself and to find 25 God."

"Side by s i d e " does not necessarily mean " i n one and

same thing" or "at one and the same time".

the

The truth i s that the

focus of Crusoe's narrative begins s h i f t i n g back and forth between two poles—one r e l i g i o u s and one economic—and the larger pattern of the novel can, i n part, be described as the rhythm of this s h i f t i n g i n t e r a c t i n g of themes.

and

Thus, the more purely "economic" schemes and

projects which Crusoe undertakes are generally, though i n some places perhaps d e f i n i t e l y , connected with the r e l i g i o u s theme and form of Defoe's novel. III.

The Economic Theme

When Crusoe i s washed ashore "on the desert i s l a n d , the f a i r l y pervasive a l l e g o r i c a l pattern through which previous events can be interpreted becomes generalized and diffused:

the reader i s never

allowed to forget that Providence i s a c t i v e l y at work i n this novel,

and

that Crusoe i s a prodigal son being punished for moral transgressions,

50

but the strongly f e l t s p i r i t u a l theme with which the book begins i s gradually counterpointed more and more to the p r a c t i c a l and economic themes of the book.

In other words, the assumption i s t h i s :

at the

beginning of the novel there exist two thematic patterns fused together—the secular and economic and the religious and a l l e g o r i c a l . As the novel develops beyond the point where Crusoe i s washed ashore, and p a r t i c u l a r l y beyond the repentance scene, these two themes are counterpointed with one another; the two are s t i l l generally connected, and one does r e f l e c t on the other, but the p o s s i b i l i t y of reading the novel as a Protestant allegory f a l l s away as Defoe focuses the reader's attention on other aspects of i s l a n d e x i s t e n c e — i . e . , more p r a c t i c a l considerations generated by the basic problem of physical survival on a desert i s l a n d . However, s e t t i n g out the economic theme of Robinson Crusoe leads to several problems.

Certainly, most "economic" c r i t i c s of the book

would hold that Defoe focuses h i s reader's attention on Crusoe's p r a c t i c a l i t y and his struggle for s u r v i v a l i n order to i l l u s t r a t e a way

of perceiving the world p r a c t i c a l l y and economically.

Perhaps

most would even go so f a r as to admit that Providence does manifest i t s e l f through Nature, but that i s not important.

Most of these

c r i t i c s would stress the ultimate importance i n Robinson Crusoe of the idea that Nature exists only to be exploited to the f u l l e s t extent possible.

Religion and beauty are not important, economics are.

Thus,

as Ian Watt remarks, i n The Rise of the Novel, "Wherever Crusoe looks his acres cry out so loud for improvement that he has no leisure to 26 observe that they also compose a landscape."

Watt i s correct, for

51

other of Defoe's writings support this view.

In Caledonia:

A

Poem i n Honour of Scotland and the Scots Nation, Defoe exhorts the Scots to improve on their native resources through application and industry: 'Tis Blasphemy to say the Climat's curst, Nature w i l l ne're be f r u i t f u l t i l l she's f o r c ' t ; Nature's a V i r g i n very Chast and Coy, To court her's nonsense: If you w i l l enjoy She must he ravisht; when she's forc't she's free, A perfect Prostitute to Industry. And: 27 For Beauty's best described by Usefulness. To ravish Nature i s to exploit i t , at least to Defoe. l o g i c a l l y back to Watt who

This leads

asserts that "Crusoe's island gives him the 28

complete l a i s s e z - f a i r e which economic man needs to r e a l i s e h i s aims." Thus, i n Watt's i n t e r p r e t a t i o n , Crusoe l i v e s completely the u t i l i t a r i a n and p r a c t i c a l l i f e of the economic i n d i v i d u a l i s t .

He i s the

rudimentary

c a p i t a l i s t , eternally transforming the status quo, and, as Watt points out, r e l i g i o n takes a back seat to materialism. The problem i n defining the economic theme comes when we turn to other c r i t i c s ' interpretations of this

theme i n Robinson Crusoe.

Maximillian Novak, for example, agrees with Watt i n his contention that Defoe's novel i s primarily a work on economics, and that Crusoe himself i s an "economic animal."

In Novak's estimation, the novel

i s a vehicle which allows Defoe to i l l u s t r a t e three economic theories: "Cl)

a theory of invention, (2) a theory of value, and (3) an

economic theory of society."

But, Novak i s diametrically opposed, i n

his economic interpretation, to Watt i n that "everything i n Robinson

52

Crusoe related to the c a l l i n g constitutes an attack upon economic 29 individualism."

Was Defoe economically l i b e r a l (a l a i s s e z - f a i r e

c a p i t a l i s t ) or conservative (a mercantilist)? How i n fact did the Puritans view economics, and did Defoe view them i n the same way? More fundamentally,

one could ask under what economic d o c t r i n e —

l i b e r a l or c o n s e r v a t i v e — d i d Defoe tackle the problem of reconciling trade and r e l i g i o u s morality.

More pertinent to this present

would be the question of Crusoe's own economics.

essay

What kind of perspective

does Defoe give us on Crusoe and h i s economic practices? leads us back to the economic viewpoint of Defoe himself.

This again It i s

far beyond the scope of this essay to even attempt complete answers to many of these questions, but, through a close look at Robinson Crusoe i t s e l f , we can at least approach solutions to these problems. Novak does gives us a clue when he mentions the doctrine of the c a l l i n g , for

i t i s this part of the Protestant ideology that allows us a

perspective on Crusoe's early adventures while i t forms a bridge between secular and s p i r i t u a l concerns.

Thus, i n order to see how, f i r s t ,

the economic and r e l i g i o u s themes work i n conjunction with one another throughout the novel, we must begin with a discussion of the c a l l i n g as i t applies to the f i r s t part of Robinson Crusoe. Crusoe's s i n , as we have already seen, i s h i s disobedience of his

father and his setting out i n quest of adventure and economic

advancement.

In so doing, young Crusoe also commits a s i n i n a

s o c i a l sense, for by leaving his s p e c i f i c s o c i a l and economic s t a t i o n , he transgresses against the s o c i a l order.

I f we go back for a moment

to Crusoe's conversation with the ship's c a p t a i n — o c c u r r i n g just after

53

they have been pulled from the stormy sea—we find a clear statement of this theme:

'"Young man,'

says he, 'you ought never to go to sea

any more; you ought to take this for a p l a i n and v i s i b l e token that you are not to be a seafaring man.' to sea no more?'

'Why

s i r , ' said I, ' w i l l you go

'That i s another case,' said he, ' i t i s my

and therefore my duty....'" ( I , 16).

calling

The captain goes on to advise

Crusoe to return to h i s father's house, since they can both p l a i n l y see that "the hand of Providence" i s against Crusoe. In h i s speech the captain assumes that since Crusoe's

calling

i s obviously not that of a seaman then he had best not try going to sea again, for the storm has been sent by Providence s p e c i f i c a l l y to warn him against taking up that vocation.

Or so thinks the captain.

The eighteenth century reader knows, of course, that Crusoe has sinned against h i s father i n a r e l i g i o u s sense, and i n so doing, has also committed a s i n of pride i n the secular sense:

Providence i s not

just warning Crusoe to avoid the seaman's trade, but i s acting to influence him to return to h i s proper s o c i a l station. s o c i a l position i s the "middle station i n l i f e . "

The proper

Crusoe's s i n of

pride, then, i s s t i l l h i s desire to r i s e "faster than the nature of the things admitted," and this time i n a socio-economic sense: Crusoe i s the i n d i v i d u a l sinning against the status quo and consequently heing punished for i t . Again, this concept of controverting the s o c i a l order i s very fundamentally based i n the Puritan doctrine of the c a l l i n g :

the

economic boundaries set out i n this doctrine are those which Crusoe transgresses.

Since the c a l l i n g has already been defined i n i t s

54

secular and s p i r i t u a l aspects, what remains i s to define the c a l l i n g with p a r t i c u l a r reference to the Puritan outlook on economics, as i t i s our contention that Defoe wants, and even expects, his reader to see Crusoe's actions from this viewpoint. previously quoted from Perkins

In the section

(page2l9'+), the Puritan divine

attaches d e f i n i t e value to l i v i n g an "honest kinde of l i f e , " and i n fact summarizes the rather a l t r u i s t i c p o s i t i o n of the early Puritans: a man's c a l l i n g should be practised with a view to a common s o c i a l good, rather than towards f u l f i l l m e n t of one's own

s e l f i s h desires.

Thus, the primary impetus behind the Puritan conception of the p a r t i c u l a r c a l l i n g would be to maintain

the status quo.

This c o n f l i c t s ,

however, with Ian Watt's arguments i n that Watt, following the

theory

outlined by Max Weber i n Die protestantische Ethik und der Geist des Kapitalismus, t i e s the r i s e of capitalism d i r e c t l y to the Puritan doctrine of the c a l l i n g .

And,

i n so arguing, Watt defines

capitalism as a "dynamic tendency...whose aim i s never merely to 30 maintain

the status quo, but to transform i t incessantly." In actual fact, the Puritans had long maintained a more

conservative outlook on economics.

Richard Sibbes, for example, i n

The S p i r i t u a l l Man's Aime (1637), sets up what amounts to an opposition between r e l i g i o n and trade: Now being such a s k i l l i t must direct everything so farre as i t helps or hinders that...so a l l trades wee must t e l l them of t h e i r f a u l t s , as they are blemishes to Religion, for wee must not bee so i n this or that trade, as that we forget we are Christians, and therefore we must heare meekly the word of God, when i t meets our p a r t i c u l a r c a l l i n g s . . . . 31

55

However, as William Haller r i g h t l y remarks, the Puritan "had no reason to fear the world or run away from i t .

Rather he must go forth and

32 do the w i l l of God there."

And

the w i l l of God was

for man

to

labor and be f r u i t f u l . Sibbes, though, i s s t i l l assuming the correct Puritan p o s i t i o n i n that the i n d i v i d u a l must accept his c a l l i n g i n meekness and humility.

Also, of course, connected to

t h i s humble acceptance of the w i l l of God i s the b e l i e f that material well-being did not necessarily mean that God sanctioned

that wealthy

individual's p a r t i c u l a r c a l l i n g , or that that person was

blessed by

God.

be wicked,"

"A r i c h man

may

be a good man,

states Thomas Adams (in 1629). 33 w e l l as Povertie...."

"But

and a poore man

may

Christ s a n c t i f i e d Riches as

One must remember that poverty i s a t r a d i t i o n a l

Christian v i r t u e , and that the poor man

has as much a chance of

being numbered among the elect (to some Puritan ministers, even more of a chance) as a r i c h

man.

However, i n the interim between these early Puritan writings and Defoe's Robinson Crusoe, a marked change had taken place i n the structure of English society, followed by a subsequent change i n Puritan "economic doctrine."

Not only did the persecution of the

Puritans push them more and more into the world of merchants and trade, but that business world i t s e l f was

evolving out of the more

t r a d i t i o n a l guild and mercantilist s o c i a l structures into an open and competitive market society.

As H.M.

Robertson points out, i n

his Aspects of the Rise of Economic Individualism, the Puritans, faced with this new

type of society, had to assimilate i t s ultimately

i n d i v i d u a l i s t ideology into t h e i r own, to f i n d a place for this new,

and the Puritan churches had

important class of hard-headed

56

businessmen i n the e c c l e s i a s t i c a l scheme of things.

These churches

(including, according to Robertson, the Anglican and Catholic churches), i n accepting this new

class, had

" i n some way

to sanctify and

an otherworldly s i g n i f i c a n c e in t h e i r [the business

find

class] s o l i d i t y ,

diligence and honest r e s p e c t a b i l i t y — c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s which were r e a l l y virtues despite t h e i r worldly origin-r-and to j u s t i f y the aims 34 and methods of their trade." Baxter, writing i n 1678,

Thus, a Puritan minister l i k e Richard

makes what was

to become a c h a r a c t e r i s t i c

statement on the new Puritan economic outlook: Q_. It i s a duty to desire and endeavour to get, and prosper, and grow r i c h by our labours; when Solomon s a i t h , Labour not to be rich? Prov. x x i i i , 4 . Answ. It i s a s i n to desire Riches as worldlings and sensualists do, for the provision and maintenance of f l e s h l y l u s t s , and pride: But i t i s no s i n , but a duty, to labour not only for labour sake, formally resting i n the act done, but for that honest increase and provision, which i s the end of our labour; and therefore to choose a gainful c a l l i n g rather than another, that we may be able to do good and relieve the poor.35 A Puritan can now his possessions

choose "a gainful c a l l i n g " and proceed to increase

honestly.

Also, altruism s t i l l makes up a part of

this doctrine, but " r e l i e v i n g the poor" seems to take second place to an "honest increase and p r o v i s i o n . "

And,

l a t e r on in the seventeenth

century, as Novak points out, "Among religious thinkers the i d e a l of charity began to fade.... a sign of salvation now

The poverty that had once been regarded as

developed into an almost certain i n d i c a t i o n of

36 damnation." success was

Puritans, i n fact, could now a mark of divine favor.

assume that worldly

Even Robinson Crusoe hints at

this b e l i e f at the end of the f i r s t volume of his adventures, when he refers to the " l a t t e r end of Job" being "better than the beginning"

(I, 318).

57

Job's prosperity i s a direct g i f t from God, a reward f o r not succumbing to

temptation. By the beginning of the eighteenth century, then, a new

economic c l a s s — a new kind of merchant with a new

outlook—had

emerged, and the Puritans had become very much a part of this Of course Watt i s right to an extent:

group.

this new middle class did

lean toward a concept of "economic individualism:" Capitalism brought a great increase of economic s p e c i a l i z a t i o n ; and t h i s , combined with a less r i g i d and homogeneous s o c i a l structure, and less absolutist and more democratic p o l i t i c a l system, enormously increased the i n d i v i d u a l ' s freedom of choice. For those f u l l y exposed to the new economic order, the e f f e c t i v e entity on which s o c i a l arrangements were now based was no longer the family, nor the church, nor the g u i l d , nor the township, nor any other c o l l e c t i v e unit, but the i n d i v i d u a l : he alone was primarily responsible for determining his own economic, s o c i a l , p o l i t i c a l and r e l i g i o u s roles."37 Watt's description of the new

c a p i t a l i s t ethic should be somewhat

tempered, however, when discussing the economic outlook of the Puritans, even after they had successfully assimilated.themselves into the r i s i n g economic society.

It i s true that the long-standing

democratic t r a d i t i o n of i n d i v i d u a l i s m — s e t out o r i g i n a l l y i n the "Liberty Tracts" composed during the Puritan Revolution and carried on i n subsequent

Leveller pamphlets—in Puritan ideology would make

the t r a n s i t i o n into a secular individualism f a i r l y easy, and that the concept of the c a l l i n g could be e a s i l y modified to assimilate new p o l i t i c a l and economic doctrines. the whole-hearted

However, Watt s t i l l

exaggerates

acceptance, by Puritans, of the basic concerns of

c a p i t a l i s m — i . e . , to be eternally transforming the status quo.

The

Puritan " c a p i t a l i s t " i s s t i l l concerned with the maintenance of a s o c i a l

58

order.

Or, perhaps i t would be more accurate to say that l a t e r Puritan

writers, those of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, tend to assume a more reasoned, middle-of-the-road

position—not

necessarily conservative, but opposed to any r a d i c a l changes i n the fundamental, unifying concepts of the status quo.

It would be of

importance to note here that Defoe himself i s cited by H.M.

Robertson

as an example of the conservative Puritan outlook, and that both Maximillian Novak and William Payne, the former arguing primarily from pamphlet evidence and the l a t t e r from Defoe's Review, come to the conclusion that Defoe was

a m e r c a n t i l i s t — a conservative, i n other words,

for the most part opposed to the l a i s s e z - f a i r e school of economic 38 individualism.

Payne does see elements of a l a i s s e z - f a i r e attitude

in Defoe, but concludes by l a b e l l i n g him a m e r c a n t i l i s t : In h i s preoccupation with credit as a substitute for a b u l l i o n economy, his arguments for high wages, his disapproval of workhouses," h i s ' b e l i e f i n competition, expansion of trade, and the free movement of labor he foKshadowed the coming l a i s s e z f a i r e philosophy. On the other hand, i n h i s eagerness for a favorable balance of trade, his emphasis on the value of b u l l i o n and coin, his approval of chartered c o l o n i a l companies, his insistence on the importance of c o l o n i a l trade, and the need of fostering i t ; i n his emphasis on a large population kept busily employed, i n his contempt, even hatred, f o r speculation, he placed himself d i r e c t l y in the stream of mercantilist philosophy, and might well be c a l l e d a "thorough-going mercantilist."39 Besides the evidence Novak and Payne c i t e i n their arguments, one of Defoe's own view of economics.

f i r s t publications tends to support

the conservative

In h i s Essay Upon Projects, written about twenty-two

years before Robinson Crusoe, he condemns economic foolishness and the errors of "projecting" while he:praises p r a c t i c a l i t y , and

reason:•

level-headedness,

59

Man i s the worst of a l l God's Creatures to s h i f t f o r himself; no other Animal i s ever starv'd to death; Nature without, has provided them both Food and Cloaths; and Nature within has plac'd an Instinct that never f a i l s to direct them to proper means for a supply; but Man must either Work or Starve, Slave or Dye; he has indeed Reason given him to direct them, and few who follow the Dictates of the Reason come to such unhappy Exigencies; but when by the Errors of Man's Youth he has.reduc'd himself to such a degree of Distress, as to be absolutely without Three things, Money, Friends, and Health, he Dies i n a Ditch, or i n some worse place, an Hospital.40 The "Errors .of Man's Youth" are, of course, i l l u s t r a t e d i n Robinson Crusoe.

On the other hand, what the reasonable man should assume i s

that only through slow, progressive labor, diligence, and application, and through well-reasoned decision, w i l l one r i s e i n the world to a place b e n e f i c i a l both to oneself and to society at large.

This, i n f a c t ,

i s one of the most prevalent and long-lasting themes i n a l l of Defoe's writings, for i n one of his l a s t works, The Complete English Tradesman, he returns to this same basic idea:

"A Man that w i l l fee s t i l l ,

should

never hope to r i s e ; he that w i l l l i e i n a Ditch and pray, may depend 41 upon i t he s h a l l He i n the Ditch and die." To Defoe, then, application and diligence did not mean ruthless competition

i n the chaotic world of stock-jobbing,

market" trading.

speculating and "open-

Rather, the tradesman i s a sort of s p i r i t u a l father

to both his peers and the lower classes.

Again i n The Complete English

Tradesman, Defoe sings praises to the merchant: He i s , i n the f i r s t place, a kind of natural magistrate in the town where he l i v e s ; and a l l the l i t t l e causes, which in matters of trade are innumerable, and which often, f o r want of such a judge, go on to suits at law, and so ruin the people concerned i n them by the expense, the delay, the wounds i n substance, and the wounds i n reputation, which they often bring with them: I say a l l these causes are brought before him; and he not only hears and determines them, but i n many of them his determination s h a l l be as e f f e c t u a l

60

among the contending tradesmen, and h i s vote as decisive, as that of any lord chancellor whatever. He i s the general peacemaker of the country, the common a r b i t r a t o r of a l l trading differences, family breaches, and private i n j u r i e s ; and, i n general, he i s the domestic judge, i n trade e s p e c i a l l y ; and by this he gains a general respect, an universal kind .of reverence, i n a l l the families about him, and he has the blessings and prayers of poor and r i c h . Again; he i s the trade-counsellor of the country where he l i v e s . It must be confessed, i n matters of commerce, lawyers make but very poor work, when they come to be consulted about the l i t t l e disputes which continually happen among tradesmen; and are so far from setting things to r i g h t s , that they generally, by t h e i r ignorance in the usage and customs of trade, make breaches wider rather than close them, and leave things worse than they find them. Thus he i s , i n a word, a kind of common peacemaker, and i s the father of the trading world i n the orb or c i r c l e wherein he moves; h i s presence has a kind of peacemaking aspect i n i t and he i s more necessary than a magistrate, whether he i s in o f f i c e or not.^2 This panegyric describes not a r e a l tradesman, but an i d e a l o n e — a model which every merchant should emulate. force for order i n his society:

The model tradesman i s a

he does not seek to destroy any

competitor's business, rather he f a i r l y arbitrates disputes and i s looked upon as an i d e a l s o c i a l being.

He has, i n other words, quietly

and contentedly assumed his s o c i a l position and maintains that position for the good not only of himself, but for everyone else around him. He i s not eternally transforming the status quo. The young Crusoe i s i n complete contrast to this figure of ease, s t a b i l i t y , and reason.

If a d i l i g e n t application of oneself to one's

c a l l i n g should result i n a steady r i s e i n one's fortune coupled with one's acceptance of a s p e c i f i c s o c i a l position, then the young Crusoe, in l e t t i n g h i s rash desire to r i s e quickly control his actions, embarks on a series of f o o l i s h ventures which the Protestant moral cosmos must

61

naturally punish.

Thus, Crusoe's s i n i s both r e l i g i o u s and

social:

he disobeys his f i g u r a t i v e s p i r i t u a l father and becomes a prodigal, and he disobeys his l i t e r a l father and becomes a f o o l i s h projector of get-rich-quick schemes.

Instead of r i s i n g slowly to his own

and s o c i a l p o s i t i o n , he decides to r i s e quickly on h i s own,

economic paying no

heed to his father, to the ship's captain, or to h i s own r e l i g i o u s background: But my i l l fate pushed me on now with an obstinacy that nothing could r e s i s t ; and though I had several times loud c a l l s from my reason and my more composed judgment to go home, yet I had no power to do i t . I know not what to c a l l t h i s , nor w i l l I urge that i t i s a secret overruling decree that hurries us on to be the rash instruments of our own destruction, even though i t be before us, and that we rush upon i t with our eyes open. (I, 15) And,

a b i t further, Crusoe c a l l s his " i l l

which carried me f i r s t away from my

f a t e " "That e v i l influence

father's house, that hurried me

into the wild and indigested notion of r a i s i n g my

fortune, and that

impressed those conceits so f o r c i b l y upon me as to make me deaf to a l l good advice and to the entreaties and even command of my

father...."

(I, 17-18). By thus moralizing on an economic basis, Crusoe i s pointing to a s i g n i f i c a n t connection

between morals and trade.

In the

world of this novel, the prodigal son must learn to be a

fictional rational

economic creature just as he must gain that important commitment to a religious belief.

Thus, the idea of the Bildungsroman underpins and

connects both themes—economic and r e l i g i o u s :

Crusoe must learn proper

respect for society and for his position i n society just as he must learn proper respect for God.

To see this connection

c l e a r l y , l e t us

62

go again to the early sections of Robinson

Crusoe.

As I have already indicated, the didactic purpose of the

first

pages of Robinson Crusoe i s to show that youthful sins result i n t e r r i b l e punishments.

But, Crusoe i s successful at least twice

before he i s shipwrecked on the island.

His successes at this early

stage, however, are q u a l i f i e d , and both cases serve to support the moral v i s i o n of the narrator.

On h i s t h i r d voyage, Crusoe makes

£ 300 through trading, a p r o f i t of something over 500% on his o r i g i n a l investment of t, 40. Crusoe, " f i l l e d

However, this one successful venture, states

me with those aspiring thoughts which have since so

completed my r u i n . "

He sets himself up as "a Guinea trader" and on h i s

next voyage i s captured by Moorish p i r a t e s , becomes a slave i n their c i t y , Salee. or

And, as George Starr has pointed out, captivity i n Salee,

i n other of the Moorish pirate towns, had become emblematic i n

seventeenth-century t r a v e l l i t e r a t u r e , of a sojourn i n H e l l and 43 consequently as a punishment for a s i n f u l l i f e .

Thus, as i n Colonel

Jack, Roxana, and Moll Flanders, Crusoe's overreaching results i n disaster. He does eventually escape, and a f t e r d r i f t i n g down the coast of A f r i c a , he i s picked up by an honest Portuguese captain who become a plantation owner i n B r a z i l .

generously helps him

The plantation prospers, and

Crusoe i r o n i c a l l y discovers that he i s fast approaching that "very middle station, or upper degree of low l i f e " which his father had praised as h i s proper c a l l i n g :

"...and I used often to say to myself,

I could ha' done this as w e l l i n England among my friends as ha' gone 5,000 miles o f f to do i t among strangers and savages i n a wilderness...." CI, 39).

But this state i s not destined to l a s t , for Crusoe longs for

63

more wealth and adventure:

"And now

increasing i n business and

wealth, my head began to be f u l l of projects and undertakings beyond my reach; such as are indeed often the ruin of the best heads i n business" ( I , 41).

His next project i s a slaving expedition which

ends with the shipwreck, the death of a l l the crew save Crusoe, and his subsequent i s o l a t i o n on the island. Again, the reader i s not surprised at the shipwreck, for Crusoe has c a r e f u l l y prefigured the incident.

In fact, while he i s s t i l l

dis-

cussing his B r a z i l i a n plantation l i f e , he gives the reason for this further punishment, and again, punishment results from a transgression of socio-economic

boundaries:

....I l i v e d just l i k e a man cast away upon some desolate island that had nobody there but himself. But how just has i t been, and how should a l l men r e f l e c t , that when they compare their present conditions with others that are worse, Heaven may oblige them to make the exchange and be convinced of their former f e l i c i t y by t h e i r experience; I say, how just has i t been, that the t r u l y s o l i t a r y l i f e I reflected on i n an island of mere desolation should be my l o t , who had so often unjustly compared i t with the l i f e which I then l e d , in which had I continued, I had i n a l l probability been exceeding prosperous and r i c h . (I, 39) Here the " f e l i c i t o u s state" i s equated with simply staying put and r i s i n g slowly and reasonably. on another f o o l i s h project.

But Crusoe must be o f f to sea again Thus, he i s , i n the "pre-island" part of

his Adventures, an "economic i n d i v i d u a l i s t " — a c a p i t a l i s t — o u t f o r personal gain.

However, within.the moral framework of the novel the

reader c l e a r l y perceives that each time Crusoe t r i e s to overextend himself he i s destined to f a l l .

Providence w i l l not allow Crusoe to

be guilty again of r e l i g i o u s or_ economic hybris.

The point of this novel

64 i s , then, that the good man

(or

"Puritan") must do his best to

assimilate himself into the existing s o c i a l and moral order, because in so doing, he i s obeying God's w i l l .

When, conversely, he attempts

to overextend h i m s e l f — t o become a c a p i t a l i s t transforming the status quo—he i s disobeying God's w i l l and must be punished.

Of

course when Crusoe i s i s o l a t e d on the island he i s certainly s t i l l an economic i n d i v i d u a l i s t : men

and concerned

he i s l i t e r a l l y isolated from the society of

("economically" speaking) with h i s own

survival.

It i s exactly because of this i s o l a t i o n that c r i t i c s interpret Defoe's thematic purpose as the recreation of an ideal economic Utopia modeled on the existing s o c i a l and economic s i t u a t i o n i n England at that time.

At least, both Watt and Novak argue for this interpretation.

But Novak, at l e a s t , goes on to indicate a further moral i n t e r p r e t a t i o n : while on his i s l a n d , Crusoe learns humility, and consequently

carves

out a place for himself i n the natural order, becomes a projector but at this time, as Novak seems to indicate, with p r a c t i c a l i t y diligence as goals, not s e l f i s h economic gain.

and

On the i s l a n d , then,

Crusoe's projecting goes hand i n hand with his moral development, and again, the repentance scene i s central to this interpretation of^the book. We have already seen that before Crusoe actually repents of his sings and begins h i s introspective, r e l i g i o u s soul-searching, he keeps to h i s own

immediate part of the island.

Likewise, h i s economic

projects tend to be short-term and based more on immediate needs.

His

f i r s t major project, for example, i s an attempt to salvage material from the ship:

h i s "extremity" (he spent the night i n a tree) arouses h i s

"application," and he constructs a r a f t to carry back to the island a l l

65

that he can reclaim.

In f a c t , Crusoe i s methodical—more

than previously,

at any r a t e — i n what he does save, showing a p r a c t i c a l turn of mind. He f i r s t removes provisions, including some corn, clothes and tools, then ammunition

and arms.

He even methodically l i s t s the "three

encouragements" to h i s project:

"1. A smooth, calm sea.

tide r i s i n g and s e t t i n g i n to the shore.

3.

2. The

What l i t t l e wind there

was blew me towards the land...." ( I , 56). Such careful considerations speak highly of Crusoe's p r a c t i c a l i t y and diligence, and when he returns to h i s island i n his Farther Adventures, i t i s just this attitude that the Spanish s e t t l e r s praise the most.

They t e l l Crusoe

that they could do nothing but despair when shipwrecked, and they r e a l i z e that this was d e f i n i t e l y the wrong attitude.

An o l d Spaniard

remarks to Crusoe: ...that i t was not the Part of wise Men to give up themselves to t h e i r Misery, but always to take Hold of the Helps which Reason offer'd, as w e l l for present Support, as f o r future Deliverance. He t o l d me that Grief was the most senseless i n s i g n i f i c a n t Passion i n the World; f o r that i t regarded only Things past, which were generally impossible to be r e c a l l ' d , or to be remedy'd, but had no View to Things to come, and had no Share i n any Thitfi'g that looked l i k e Deliverance, but rather added to the A f f l i c t i o n , than propos'd a Remedy.... He ran on then i n Remarks upon a l l the l i t t l e Improvements I had made i n my Solitude; my unweary'd Application, as he call'd i t ( I I , 108) Crusoe's actions i n the few months following the shipwreck indicate that he has taken the f i r s t step to becoming a balanced, integrated human being. of

From being a person of pure passion, a projector

f o o l i s h schemes, Crusoe has graduated to being a man of Reason:

he has, i n the language of Renaissance, moved up from the vegetative soul (Caliban, the natural man) to the r a t i o n a l soul.

And this move up

can, i n f a c t , be taken as the f i r s t step i n Crusoe's development

66

to a s p i r i t u a l rebirth., a step which i s indicated primarily through an "economic" aspect of the novel.

Before, Crusoe acted upon impulse, but

in the extremity of h i s i s o l a t i o n he must use reason. . Impulse, i n fact, has no further control over Crusoe's actions, for i t i s now only through reason that he can possibly accept his s i t u a t i o n and do the best he can i n order to survive. Thus, Crusoe daily improves h i s f o r t i f i c a t i o n s and explores the immediate part of h i s island.

He discovers goats on the island,

and through close study of goat behavior and theorizing on goat optics, he finds he i s able to k i l l them for food.

He begins building a table

and chair but finds he i s a sorry workman, being merely a "natural mechanic."

What i s important i s that Crusoe gradually begins, through

reason, to order his projects, his routine, and f i n a l l y , his environment: "So I went to work; and here I must needs observe, that as reason i s the substance and o r i g i n a l of the mathematics,

so by stating and squaring

everything by reason and by making the most r a t i o n a l judgment of things, every man may be i n time master of every mechanic a r t " (I, 77). And, a b i t l a t e r , when he begins h i s Journal, he notes i n an entry for November 4, "This morning I began to order my times of work, of going out with my gun, time of sleep, and time of diversion" ( I , 79). He then l i s t s his daily a c t i v i t i e s and the times he has a l l o t e d for each.

The Journal i t s e l f i s important since i t indicates Crusoe's

desire for an orderly, daily record of what he has done, besides, the fact that i t allows him, f o r a while at any rate, to keep track of the date.

F i n a l l y , as he sets his provisions i n order, he takes "great

pleasure...to see a l l my goods i n such order and especially my stock of a l l necessaries so great" ( I , 76).

67

Almost as soon as Crusoe lands on h i s island, he exhibits a "rage f o r order."

After a b r i e f period of despair and despondency, h i s

p r a c t i c a l nature gains control, so that by the time h i s repentance takes place, he has already secured himself f a i r l y well from danger and has exhibited a d i l i g e n t application that w i l l allow him to survive f o r twenty-eight years on a desert island.

Reason, then, has reduced

the environment, f o r the most part, to an order that s u i t s Crusoe's convenience; Crusoe i s able to give shape and purpose to nature and has thus moved up from the passionate, almost brutish behavior (in a moral and r e l i g i o u s sense) he displayed throughout h i s early adventures. But, f a i t h i s s t i l l needed before the earth w i l l y i e l d to Crusoe the harvest that w i l l truly sustain him; i . e . , f a i t h w i l l give him that v i s i o n of Providence actively p a r t i c i p a t i n g i n his l i f e which w i l l quash h i s fears (those that Reason w i l l not eradicate) and w i l l result in Crusoe's s p i r i t u a l conquest of h i m s e l f — a victory which p a r a l l e l s his conquest of the natural environment.

Actually, the shipwreck i t s e l f

i s a kind of minor fulcrum i n Crusoe's moral growth: away as reason takes over.

impulse drops

But the repentance scene i s the major fulcrum

of the n o v e l — t h e p i v o t a l point in Crusoe's moral and i n t e l l e c t u a l growth—for he finds the f a i t h that w i l l bolster h i s reason and which w i l l result i n a change i n h i s pattern of behavior and a change i n his outlook towards h i s island environment. F i r s t , since the acquisition of f a i t h means, to the Protestant, an acknowledgement of the existence of God and a r e a l i z a t i o n that God cares f o r the p a r t i c u l a r , i n d i v i d u a l soul, then Crusoe knows that Providence has taken a s p e c i a l interest i n him and i s influencing the

68

events i n h i s l i f e .

In psychological terms, this new knowledge of

Providence, coupled with a s p i r i t u a l r e b i r t h , allows Crusoe to overcome his fear of nature and consequently to expand both his discoveries and his projects.

George Starr, i n his discussion of

Robinson Crusoe and i t s r e l a t i o n to s p i r i t u a l

autobiography,

comments on just this aspect of Crusoe's behavior. At various points [after his repentance] he experiences ' f r i g h t s ' and 'consternations'; some of them are f u l l y as harrowing as the 'strange surprizing adventures' that preceded his conversion and perhaps more so, since he had then been callous towards dangers and deliverances a l i k e . Now, however, he becomes better able to confront new hazards, and to dispel t h e i r terrors, f o r he gains security from the conviction that he i s an object of Providential care. In other words, i t i s not that his b e l i e f shields him from further v i c i s s i t u d e s , but that such v i c i s s i t u d e s either f a i l to discompose him or else agitate him only when he forgets he i s under divine protection.44 We have already seen that Crusoe begins to explore h i s entire i s l a n d , but 'he now also considers himself as "lord and king" of his domain (I, 111).

He builds a bower near the middle of the i s l a n d ,

begins seriously keeping the Sabbath, and starts his large projects for

mastering and taming the environment.

plants barley; manufactures t u r t l e s ; tames a goat.

He learns the seasons;

tables, chairs, baskets, and pots; discovers

One could, of course, argue that given the

amount of time Crusoe spends on his i s l a n d , he would naturally evolve to

this l e v e l of conquest and exploitation.

However, Crusoe himself

i s careful to point out that his awareness of a beneficent Providence has calmed h i s fears: of

"...therefore I acquiesced i n the dispositions

Providence, which I began now

to own and to believe, ordered

everything f o r the best; I say, I quieted my mind with t h i s , and l e f t a f f l i c t i n g myself with f r u i t l e s s wishes...."

(I, 120).

And, J. Paul

69

Hunter points d i r e c t l y to the o v e r a l l significance of Crusoe's conversion when he remarks, "Emblematically, Crusoe has beaten the 45 sword of his v i s i o n into the ploughshare of his experience." However, these statements should be q u a l i f i e d .

Upon repenting,

Crusoe i s not immediately transformed into a paragon of "economic" brilliance:

he i s not, i n other words, an a l l e g o r i c a l s t i c k figure

either i n an economic or a r e l i g i o u s sgfi-se, but defines himself as much through his mistakes as through h i s successes.

Crusoe learns

slowly and p a i n f u l l y through experience, from his account of the number of clay pots he attempts before he produces one he can c a l l a functional success, to probably his best-known mistake, the manufacture

of a

periagua, which i s a direct result of his newly acquired exploratory zeal. H i t t i n g upon the idea of a canoe pleases Crusoe no end, and he immediately chooses a "vast tree" which he must hollow out.

He spends t h i r t y - f o u r

days cutting the tree down and hacking away i t s branches.

It takes

another month to hollow, shape and dub i t , and then--and only he r e a l i z e that he can never get i t to the water: to get i t into the water f a i l e d me; labor, too.

"But a l l my devices

though they cost me

It lay about one hundred-yards

then—does

infinite

from the water, and not more.

But the f i r s t inconvenience was, i t was u p h i l l towards the creek; w e l l , to take away this discouragement,

I resolved to dig into the surface of

the earth, and so make a d e c l i v i t y . . . . " (I, 141). that he cannot even move the heavy boat.

However, he realizes

He decides to b u i l d a canal

but then r e a l i z e s that that project would cost him ten to twelve years labor.

At the dismal end of this venture Crusoe realizes he has allowed

eagerness and "fancy" to p r e v a i l , and he sees "the f o l l y of beginning a work before we count the cost and before we judge r i g h t l y of our own

70

strength to go through with i t " (I, 141-142). analysis, perhaps i t i s Providence

But, i n the f i n a l

that watched over this project and

saved Crusoe from committing a greater f o l l y , for a f t e r he reasons awhile on this latest project, he concludes

that had he finished the

canoe he would have embarked on "the maddest voyage and the most unlikely to be performed that ever was undertaken" (I, 141). important

point i s that Providence

The

helps Crusoe to help himself.

In

spite of his seeming s t u p i d i t y , he learns from his mistakes, and necessity and a new-found s p i r i t of adventure (this time within the dictates of common sense and Christian faith) compel him on to new new

projects and

mistakes. I f , on the other hand, we follow Novak's more secular approach

to this novel, necessity alone gives b i r t h to society by destroying sloth. And Novak points out that Crusoe's primary aim i s to "recreate upon the microcosm of h i s island the standard of existence of Western c i v i l i z a t i o n in his d a y — t o duplicate i n the existence of one man

a l l the useful

products required by the human race for comfort and convenience." Therefore, the more properly economic themes of Robinson Crusoe are "That labor and invention create things of use and that the value of 46 things depends on their u t i l i t y . . . . "

Defoe, Novak suggests, i s t e l l i n g

his readers that t h e i r concept of society i s in fact based upon t h e i r society's theories of value and u t i l i t y :

a given society tends to

value things for t h e i r usefulness, and their value varies according to their u t i l i t y .

This holds true for Western European c i v i l i z a t i o n just

as i t holds true for the one-man society that Crusoe creates on his island.

This idea, then, i s the economic theme of the book.

However,

a careful reading of Defoe's novel w i l l show, as we indicated above,

71 that the r e l i g i o u s theme functions just as much i n the economic sphere of the book as i t does i n the adventure sphere.

If necessity compels

Crusoe to take up his various projects, then Providence certainly gives him an added impetus.

Thus i t i s that the repentance scene i s

c r u c i a l to both the r e l i g i o u s and the economic themes. theme also develops a pattern of i t s own,

But the economic

and this i s one reason we

cannot read Crusoe's account as a s t r i c t r e l i g i o u s allegory.

The

economic pattern detaches i t s e l f from time to time from the religious theme to create i t s own narrative rhythm.

The reader becomes aware of

a kind of "rhythm of project" which i s counterpointed

to the more

general s p i r i t u a l and moral pattern. In general terms, this economic pattern evolves through (1)

the r e a l i z a t i o n of a problem, (2)

a decision on a single course of action, (3) problem which may,

i n turn, breed (4)

new

logically

projected solutions and the solution of the

problems.

For example,

after Crusoe has constructed his shelter, he faces a general problem: since he cannot l i v e forever on the ship's stores, how food?

This basic problem breeds several solutions:

harvest grapes, k i l l goats, and so on.

can he obtain

raise barley,

However, the barley must be

planted at a certain time, otherwise the crop w i l l f a i l once).

The project then involves a study of the climate and

seasons, so the barley can be planted accordingly. must reap, thresh, grind, and store the grain. new

(as i t does

projects, creating, i n e f f e c t , a web

the

Then, of course,

one

Each phase requires

of economic schemes.

same pattern develops with the grapes and the goats.

The

Proceeding through

reason from phase to phase of his projects, creating new

projects along

72

the way,

and eventually achieving an ordered and patterned l i f e on the

i s l a n d — a l l of these create that sense of excitement i n the reader. And f i n a l l y , Crusoe manages to create that status quo-—an economic s t a b i l i t y — w h i c h allows him ample security and gives him that sense of true accomplishment i n which the reader shares.

By the time

Crusoe discovers the print of a man's foot on the beach (which throws him into great consternation by reviving h i s fears of cannibals), he has a large and prospering goat herd, f i e l d s of planted grain, considerable grape harvests, and two "plantations," as he c a l l s them.

He i s a

competent carpenter, farmer, baker, potter and j a c k - o f - a l l trades, and he i s continually employed i n just keeping his projects going. At about the same time that'Crusoe

finishes developing his

pattern of existence on h i s i s l a n d , he discovers traces of the cannibal feasts on the side of the islandUqpposite to where he had o r i g i n a l l y washed ashore.

If he had made this discovery before the

time of h i s repentance, he undoubtedly would have been "taken quite a f f r i g h t , " perhaps running to his " f o r t r e s s " and cowering there for several days.

However, at the same time that his routine becomes

organized and he tames the natural environment, h i s moral character has developed and deepened.

And just as his r e l i g i o u s r e f l e c t i o n s

have given h i s economic a c t i v i t y a new meaning, granting to h i s tasks and h i s products what amounts to a glow of s p i r i t u a l significance, so has his fear of the natural environment and a l l i t contains considerably.

diminished

Thus, when he discovers traces of the cannibals on this

far side of the i s l a n d , he shows absolutely no fear at a l l .

Rather, a l l

his "apprehensions were buried i n the thought of such a p i t c h of inhuman, h e l l i s h b r u t a l i t y , and the horror of the degeneracy of human

73

nature" ( I , 182).

He vomits, but more from disgust than from .fear,

and then he gives thanks to God that he "was dreadful creatures" ( I , 183).

distinguished from such

Crusoe does, on the other hand, exhibit

a great amount of fear when he discovers more recent evidence of cannibals v i s i t i n g the i s l a n d — i . e . , the discovery of the footprint on the beach—but by that time, the reader i s so aware of Crusoe's own r e l i g i o u s nature that t h i s reaction seems nothing more than a s l i g h t relapse.

Indeed, Crusoe's immediate impulse i s to destroy the order

he has so c a r e f u l l y constructed. But again, i t i s h i s r e l i g i o n that saves the economic basis of h i s existence. After r e f l e c t i n g once again on Providence, Crusoe i s inspired to make certain small changes i n his l i f e s t y l e .

He takes " a l l the

measures human prudence could suggest," and plans for new

fortifications,

devises a hidden pasture for his goats, and uses charcoal for h i s cooking f i r e s so no flame w i l l be seen. While rearranging his environment he continually turns to his Bible for i n s p i r a t i o n , meditates on Providence, and, i n this manner, he p r e s e n t s — i n the midst of his considerations on p r o j e c t s — h i s strongest statements on Providence and i t s actions i n his

life: I then reflected that God, who was not only righteous but omnipotent, as He had thought f i t thus to punish and a f f l i c t me, so He was able to deliver me; that i f He did not think to do i t , 'twas my unquestioned duty to resign myself absolutely and e n t i r e l y to His w i l l ; and on the other hand, i t was my duty also to ;hope i n Him, pray to Him, and quietly to attend the dictates and directions of His daily providence. ( I , }:74)

Because of these r e f l e c t i o n s , Crusoe i s able to " r i s e cheerfully" and go about turning his new schemes into r e a l i t i e s .

Religion masters fear,

reasons overcomes impulse, and economic optimism triumphs.

The moral,

74 according to Crusoe, i s : . . . ' t i s never too late to be wise; and I cannot but advise a l l considering men, whose l i v e s are attended with such extraordinary incidents as mine, or even though not so extraordinary, not to s l i g h t such secret intimations of Providence, l e t them come from what i n v i s i b l e i n t e l l i g e n c e they w i l l , that I s h a l l not discuss and perhaps not account f o r ; but certainly they are a proof of the converse of s p i r i t s and the secret communication between those embodied and those unembodied; and such a proof as can never be withstood. (I, 194) Thus r e l i g i o n comes to Crusoe's aid, allowing him the presence of mind—the wisdom—needed to e f f e c t h i s more purely economic projects. Though Crusoe begins i n s i n , he "grows up" on h i s i s l a n d , and the Puritan ideology which he i n t e r n a l i z e s — w h i c h gives him this f a i t h and wisdom—sanctions h i s projects.

Even though the economic pattern at

timer achieves a kind of independence from the r e l i g i o u s theme, Crusoe i s always anxious to point the reader back to a moral and r e l i g i o u s perspective.

Thus, Crusoe's endeavors have meaning not only on a mundane

l e v e l , but on a s p i r i t u a l l e v e l as w e l l .

For as Martin Greif remarks,

Defoe's hero " i s enabled through the g i f t of divine grace to contribute 47 to h i s own physical s u r v i v a l on the i s l a n d . "

So, even i f Ian

Watt, i n proving his economic interpretation of Robinson Crusoe, points out that Friday i s the "advent of new manpower," and that relations between Friday and Crusoe are completely " u t i l i t a r i a n , " the reader i s s t i l l aware of the importance of a Christian ideology throughout this 48 section of the book. dream—a

. Crusoe's rescue of Friday i s foretold i n a

"secret intimation" of Providence.

In f a c t , after this

dream, Crusoe decides h i s next project w i l l be to obtain a servant, but when he actually makes the rescue he i s " c a l l e d p l a i n l y by Providence to save this poor Creature's l i f e " (I, 224).

Certainly the advent of

75 Friday on the island i s of great u t i l i t a r i a n value to Crusoe, but i t also allows him to practice h i s C h r i s t i a n i t y : and i n so doing strengthens

he converts Friday

the impact of h i s own

conversion.

Crusoe

i s able to extend h i s own e t h i c a l being and thus give the l i e to a solely economic i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of the book by proving that h i s own s p i r i t u a l i t y i s not merely "mechanical," or the author's

afterthought

to improve the novel's sales among the moral element of the English population.

This religious theme i s an i n t r i n s i c part of the

narrative structure and thematic patterning of the book i t s e l f , and an important

part of Defoe's o r i g i n a l moral intention i n writing

Robinson Crusoe.

i&v. Structure It i s possible to discuss the structure of Robinson Crusoe on three l e v e l s :

the l e v e l of paratactic structure which i s analogous

to the pattern of the picaresque and adventure s t o r i e s ; the f o r m a l i s t i c pattern of two i n t e r a c t i n g themes; and a structure somewhat analogous to that of the Bildungsroman wherein the reader sees the education growth of the main character's mind. levels are not completely

and

To be sure, these s t r u c t u r a l

isolated from one another.

f i r s t through the c o n t r o l l i n g consciousness

They are connected

of the narrator, second

through the type of "double v i s i o n " discussed e a r l i e r , and t h i r d through the main character's s p i r i t u a l growth.

It i s because of the l a t t e r that

Crusoe i s able to a r t i c u l a t e the patterns of emblematic reference which structure the book on the second and t h i r d levels.

Thus, these

s t r u c t u r a l patterns are models which w i l l indicate the existence of

76

a certain l o g i c of construction in Crusoe's story.

This present

section w i l l attempt to describe b r i e f l y these l e v e l s , beginning with the

simplest, the paratactic structure.

The l a s t l e v e l — t h a t based on

the

way Crusoe himself perceives r e a l i t y — i s the most complex since

i t involves both a pattern of ideas and an epistemology which merit further exploration i n the next chapter.

Therefore, this l a s t l e v e l

w i l l be described here simply as a basic s t r u c t u r a l pattern and only insofar as i t relates to the other patterns i n the book. A paratactic pattern i s that i n which a given text i s dissolved into a series of discrete episodes.

The narrative, i n f a c t , tends toward

fragmentation rather than integration.

Thus, this type of structure i s

basic to adventure and picaresque s t o r i e s wherein the account usually proceeds scene by scene with l i t t l e or no direct causal relationship between two successive "scenes" or "adventures."

Such a pattern i s

u n i f i e d only through the existence of a main character who

"travels"

through these scenes and around whom (though not always) the action centers.

In Robinson Crusoe, the narrative i s thus fragmented on at

least two l e v e l s .

F i r s t , the reader follows the hero through scene

a f t e r scene and, indeed, i f he reads Robinson Crusoe as merely an adventure narrative, he can see l i t t l e

causal or thematic connection

between the scenes except that they are narrated sequentially by a single, central character. large chunks:

Second, the novel breaks up into three

Crusoe's series of early adventures, his island

sojourn, and h i s l a t e r travels between the time of h i s deliverance and his

return to England.

Again, outside of the fact that these

sequences are narrated by Crusoe, there seems, on this l e v e l of pure adventure, to be very l i t t l e i n t r i n s i c connection between the sections,

77

and i f we were reading Robinson Crusoe as a simple adventure story, then this would be our f i n a l word on structure. However, i t i s obvious from our discussion of Defoe's novel thus f a r that Crusoe's adventures .are meant to be read emblematically. In other words, the adventures are given a significance which transcends the paratactic l e v e l of structure, so that the form of the book i s , in part, this further s i g n i f i c a t i o n of the event, s i t u a t i o n , and even object, which transcends the mundane pattern of adventure.

The fact

that most of the adventures can be described as economic i n one way or another, and also as s i g n i f i c a n t i n a r e l i g i o u s sense, leads to the postulate that a truer way of describing the structure of Robinson Crusoe would be to see these two themes as interacting with one another through the narrative. With s p e c i f i c reference to Defoe's novel, l e t us define this concept of an interaction of themes as two themes running alongside each other, r e f l e c t i n g upon one another, and crossing at different points i n the narrative.

We have already seen, f o r example, that the

economic and r e l i g i o u s themes are fused together in the opening pages of the novel:

Crusoe's o r i g i n a l s i n and subsequent punishments

read on both r e l i g i o u s and socio-economic l e v e l s .

can be

These two themes

divide during the island section of the narrative, but i n this case d i v i s i o n i s not opposition, rather i t i s a counterpointing and r e f l e c t i n g . The narrative focus s h i f t s from economics to r e l i g i o n and then back again.

This s h i f t i n g r e s u l t s , as we have seen, i n the two themes

i n t e r a c t i n g with one another, thus achieving a pattern of interaction. Crusoe's economic projects are punctuated by his r e f l e c t i o n s on God's beneficence, and, i n p a r a l l e l fashion, r e l i g i o n influences

economics

78

just as economics r e f l e c t back on r e l i g i o n .

Crusoe feels that he owes

his economic s u c c e s s — h i s progress i n transforming a w i l d and natural environment to h i s own u s e s — t o that Providence which bolsters h i s f a i t h and courage and allows him to discover h i s own i n i t i a t i v e . carefully points this out many times i n h i s narrative: sat

Crusoe

"I frequently

down to my meat with thankfulness and admired the hand of God's

providence, which had thus spread my table i n the wilderness" (I, 143). And, "These r e f l e c t i o n s made me very sensible of the goodness of Providence to me and very thankful for my present condition, with a l l i t s hardships and misfortunes" ( I , 144).

I t i s because of God's

w i l l that Crusoe comes to the i s l a n d , and through God's w i l l he eventually gains control over h i s s i t u a t i o n , r e a l i z i n g , as A.D. McKillop puts i t , "within natural l i m i t s and with comparative

innocence

49 man's desire f o r domination." Thus, Crusoe's achievement comes about partly through hisoown i n i t i a t i v e (although i t s development i s influenced by Providence, i t i s s t i l l primarily Crusoe's own) and partly through a curious confluence of events which strongly indicate a Providential hand at work.

Through

f a i t h Crusoe gains i n i t i a t i v e , purpose, and s i g n i f i c a n c e , and with the help of Providence he achieves economic success and eventually deliverance from his island.

Trade and morality, then, are not

necessarily opposed to one another i n Robinson Crusoe.

Rather, Crusoe

must learn to control h i s i n c l i n a t i o n s to adventure and trade by r e a l i z i n g and i n t e r n a l i z i n g an e s s e n t i a l l y Christian morality.

This

morality, Defoe implies, w i l l allow Crusoe to l i v e comfortably and at ease i n the world.

79

Coming to a r e a l i z a t i o n of Christian morality involves, of course, a learning process, and t h i s , i n turn, suggests the f i n a l l e v e l of u n i f i c a t i o n i n structure.

Each s t r u c t u r a l l e v e l discussed

so f a r has been inadequate i n one way or another.

F i r s t , the

paratactic l e v e l does not take into account the pattern of emblematic s i g n i f i c a t i o n and the "archetypal" reenactment of the prodigal son story.

The concept of an interaction between two

themes moves us one step closer to this reading of the novel, but i t does not take f u l l y enough into account the c o n t r o l l i n g and growing consciousness of Crusoe himself.

S t i l l , this pattern of

i n t e r a c t i o n does suggest this growth, for as Martin Price asserts: Defoe achieves the most fundamental dramatization of his industry. The forming of the pot has been likened to the forming of a soul, and the analogy can be accepted without overemphasis. The book relates Crusoe's mastery of nature to h i s mastery of s e l f ; the outward i s l a n d and the inward jungle are, to some extent, counterparts, yet at a l e v e l of symbolism that needs no insistence and i s more readily sensed than identified.50 The ordering of Crusoe's "inward jungle" operates, generally, as a pattern of growth through the novel.

As Crusoe proceeds from

impulses and passion (notethe number of references to."wild" and " f o o l i s h " "notions" i n the pre-island part of h i s adventures) through reason ( d i l i g e n t application) to f a i t h , he gradually masters his environment.

His control of h i s passions makes him not only a complete

man, but also a leader of men.

He proves successful i n both recapturing

a ship on which the crew has mutinied and in leading a party of men through the Pyrenees where he displays such a cool head i n actions against large pack of hungry wolves that he i s made "captain" of the

80

group.

This b a t t l e with the wolves serves to bring out those q u a l i t i e s

which Crusoe has developed while on the island:

h i s a b i l i t y toOdeal

with the natural environment i n a r a t i o n a l way, h i s courage due to h i s acquisition of f a i t h , and f i n a l l y h i s q u a l i t i e s of leadership. Crusoe, by the end of h i s story, has i n t e r n a l i z e d those q u a l i t i e s of being which Defoe assigns to the "complete tradesman."

Crusoe has

learned to control h i s impulsive behavior and to be a "natural magistrate" among men. Thus, Robinson Crusoe i s a s i g n i f i c a n t s t r u c t u r a l unit, patterned generally along the l i n e s of a s p i r i t u a l autobiography with i t s conventional sin-exile-redemption-grace structure, each element of which conforms to a stage i n Crusoe's moral growth.

At the end of

his story Crusoe assimilates himself back into society, assuming the very "middle station of l i f e " ' which he brote^away from i n the beginning. The structure of the novel, then, i s well balanced i n three p a r t s — e a c h part s i g n i f i c a n t i n the pattern of s p i r i t u a l growth.

The early

adventures show Crusoe sinning and i n e x i l e ; the central portion of the n a r r a t i v e — C r u s o e on his island—develops the theme of s p i r i t u a l growth and contains what I have termed the major fulcrum of the novel, the repentance scene; the f i n a l portion of the novel shows a new Crusoe emerging from the island experience, a Crusoe who i s the complete antithesis to the young man who f i r s t set out on h i s " f o o l i s h adventures."

F i n a l l y , through the system of emblemism, the events,

situations, objects, and even characters described i n this novel a l l work to drive the theme home.

There i s , i n other words, a more

or less complete integration of a l l the narrative elements i n Robinson Crusoe.

81

But structure i t s e l f i s perhaps only a metaphor for a larger ideological vision. to indicate.

At least this i s what our study so far would seem

Defoe i s a r t i c u l a t i n g a Protestant v i s i o n of r e a l i t y and

experience, and this v i s i o n of r e a l i t y makes up the structure of the novel.

At the center of Defoe's own imaginative v i s i o n , as i t i s

projected i n Robinson Crusoe, i s a conception of human experience as an economic and moral struggle defined very much within the context of an eighteenth—century middle class ideology.

It is.not enough to say,

with Robert Donovan, that "The world of Defoe's imagination i s a projection of economic society," and that "the p r a c t i c a l choices 51 thrust upon his characters are dictated by economic n e c e s s i t i e s . " These choices are also dictated by a moral framework which conditions that economic outlook.

Crusoe himself, then, i s emblematic of his

society i n a more metaphysical sense, for we have hinted at a deeper epistemology

and doctrine of ideas which form the t h e o r e t i c a l and

i d e o l o g i c a l basis to Robinson Crusoe.

Any f i n a l u n i f i c a t i o n of trade

and morality can be achieved only when we see Robinson Crusoe as embodying in concrete (though f i c t i o n a l ) experience the abstract eighteenth century concepts of man

and society.

chapter w i l l explore.

This relationship i s what the next

CHAPTER I I I Philosophy and Knowledge i n Robinson Crusoe

1.

Introduction

In the eleventh century, A.D.,

an Arab philosopher, Ibn T u f a i l ,

wrote a book e n t i t l e d Hayy ibn Yakzan after the name.: of i t s main character.

This f i c t i o n a l narrative traces the l i f e of Yakz"an through

a series of seven-year cycles as he grows and matures on an isolated desert i s l a n d .

Ernst Behler has recently discussed this work, and

claims that these cycles perform two functions:

f i r s t , they give a

d e f i n i t e o v e r - a l l s t r u c t u r a l rhythm to the book; second, this rhythm indicates the growth of the main character's mind through four s t a g e s — "the discovery of the science of l i f e , " "the discovery of the higher world," "the discoveryof ecstasy," and "the discovery of mankind." also indicates that the plan of T u f a i l ' s work i s very

Behler

roughly

analogous to the plan of Robinson Crusoe, though differences i n p a r t i c u l a r themes and intentions are apparent.

1

I f , however,

we follow the pattern of Yakzan's mental and s p i r i t u a l development, we can see certain general analogies with the development of Robinson Crusoe's character.

When Crusoe i s shipwrecked on h i s

i s l a n d , he begins studying the science of existence; necessity leads him to evolve certain projects upon which h i s very survival depends, and this i s the "discovery of the science of l i f e . "

Crusoe has

already

l i v e d the l i f e of a s i n f u l c r e a t u r e — a "brutish" human—so this "science"

83

i s the f i r s t step to a "higher v i s i o n . "

The dreams and eventual

repentance of Crusoe, which bring him to a knowledge of Providential care and of the existence of God, could correspond to the discoveries of "a higher world" and of "ecstasy." to the i s l a n d represents

In .a way, the coming of Friday

a "rediscovery" of mankind, since this section

of Defoe's novel p a r a l l e l s the advent of another human, Abdal, on Yakzan's i s l a n d .

Just as Crusoe teaches Friday the fundamental tenets

of the Christian r e l i g i o n , so Yakzan teaches Abdal the universal knowledge he has gained through his development of natural reason and contemplation.

I t i s i n this manner' that Yakzan reveals a

concordance of reason and r e l i g i o n , just as Crusoe s o l i d i f i e s h i s own f a i t h by reasoning

out Christian doctrine with Friday.

At this point, however, the correspondence between the two books breaks down.

When Yakzan and Abdal return to c i v i l i z a t i o n with the

intention of preaching

truth to mankind, they r e a l i z e , upon making that

attempt, that they can never enlighten t h e i r fellows. Yakzan sees "that there are varying degrees of i n s i g h t , that the majority of men have no access to h i s own v i s i o n , and that the words of t h e i r prophet already contain within themselves the highest possible measure of 2 truth, to which nothing can be added."

Crusoe, however, successfully

reintegrates himself into society, s e t t l i n g down i n the middle station and enjoying his accumulated wealth. There are other differences between the two books.

Yakzln

i s supposedly a c h i l d of nature, since he d r i f t e d to the i s l a n d i n a basket while s t i l l an infant.

Crusoe i s large a product of the

b e l i e f s and conventions of h i s English society.

Yakzan seems quite

84

content on his i s l a n d , Crusoe i s at f i r s t nearly always i n some state of fear or despair. theme for both books:

However, Behler indicates a fundamental

"The depiction of a human consciousness

developed i n i s o l a t i o n may equally w e l l serve to show the harmony of natural and revealed explanations of the world.

I t can bring

proof, or at least an indication, that theological instruction need not c o n f l i c t with nature and i n this way strengthen the fundamental 3 agreement of both views." As Behler indicates, we can approach Defoe's f i r s t novel from the point of view that i t i l l u s t r a t e s a general view of man and his

relationships to nature, society, and even the cosmos.

In this

sense, Crusoe himself Is "emblematic" of a larger metaphysical and r e l i g i o u s ideology.

But, before we can approach this reading of

Robinson Crusoe, we again need d e f i n i t i o n s .

I f Defoe's book indicates

the harmonious relationship between r e l i g i o n and nature, or reason, then we need to define these terms i n their eighteenth century context. Thus, phrases such as the "state of nature" and "natural law" become extremely important to a reading of Robinson Crusoe, and i n f a c t , as Hans A a r s l e f f points out i n r e f e r r i n g to Locke's philosophy; "The problem of the state of nature i s e s s e n t i a l l y a question about the ..4 nature of man. A a r s l e f f ' s statement would indicate that concepts such as "reason" and "natural law" perhaps form a kind of "core ideology" which was used i n the eighteenth century to define the i n d i v i d u a l and his

relations with society, nature, and the universe.

In this manner,

"human consciousness" would come to be defined i n the terms of reference

85 which, defined and delineated both the popular and metaphysical view of man is this:

i n the early eighteenth century.

Our assumption

here,

Defoe's Robinson Crusoe i l l u s t r a t e s , or exemplifies, a

"community of values" which had been systematized by the more "popular" (by popular I mean widely disseminated) philosophers of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries.

These values come

to be defined through Crusoe's i n t e l l e c t u a l and s p i r i t u a l growth i n the novel, and so we must look to the philosophy of the time to understand the quality of this growth.. More s p e c i f i c a l l y , t h i s possible i d e o l o g i c a l structure of Defoe's novel finds i t s p a r a l l e l i n the philosophy of John Locke. Locke, i n his Essay concerning Human Understanding and Two Treatises of Government, i s concerned with codifying the bases to human thought, understanding, and action, as these were formulated through the seventeenth century.

At least one of h i s concerns i s to show how a

stable, ordered society i s created.

Thus, in: h i s Second Treatise

of Government, he reasons from an abstract state of nature wherein he can also define the nature of man.

Defoe, of course, places his

hero i n a concrete state of nature ( i . e . , the desert island) and i n this manner i l l u s t r a t e s this theory of man. that through r e f l e c t i o n and meditation i t i s

And where Locke reasons possible for man

to

gain knowledge of himself and h i s place i n nature and society, so Crusoe follows this same general pattern of thought.

Again, though

some e s s e n t i a l l y Marxist c r i t i c s have indicated that Locke was defining a bourgeois and " c a p i t a l i s t " e t h i c , he i s s t i l l , i n actual f a c t , very much concerned with the p o s s i b i l i t i e s of creating a stable and ordered s o c i a l environment.

86

In order to show the p a r a l l e l s between the ideology i l l u s t r a t e d i n Robinson Crusoe and Locke's philosophy, our approach must again be from the general to the p a r t i c u l a r .

Of f i r s t importance

i s the d e f i n i t i o n of the standard metaphysical concepts of the period, and following t h i s , an application of these concepts to Robinson Crusoe.

Our major point, then, i s t h i s :

besides the s p e c i f i c

adventure pattern, the r e l i g i o u s and emblematic pattern, and the related economic pattern, at least part of the popularity of Robinson Crusoe i n the eighteenth century results from Defoe's a b i l i t y to present concretely ( i . e . , through example, and i l l u s t r a t i o n ) the r a t i o n a l basis of man's b e l i e f i n God, i n a natural order, and in a society that would function most successfully by incorporating into i t s structure the p r i n c i p l e s of right reason and r e l i g i o u s morality.

And, by thus i l l u s t r a t i n g the r a t i o n a l and r e l i g i o u s

bases which should control the actions of a "good" s o c i a l being, Defoe i s able to reconcile that paradox between trade and morality which he has been accused of either simply glossing over or ignoring altogether.

Iii..

The State of Nature and the Early Growth of Robinson Crusoe When Robinson Crusoe i s carrying out his bread-making

project, he r e f l e c t s on the number of tasks he must perform and remarks on the d i f f i c u l t y of doing such things i n a "meer State of Nature" ( I , 130).

Certainly, at least the more learned of

Defoe's readers would he f u l l y aware of the significance of this remark:

poor Robinson Crusoe, i s o l a t e d on a desert island and forced

87 to make do as best he can without the comfort and aid of human society, i s a paradigm of the natural man placed i n a state of nature. To be sure, a concept of the natural man i s almost as old as Adam.

The Puritans, i n f a c t , see natural man

Adam f i g u r e — t h e man who

as the archetypal

f e l l from grace through s i n , and must

consequently l i v e out his l i f e b a t t l i n g and subduing the around him.

literally

environment

Likewise, the medieval and scholastic Christian

philosophers held to approximately the same view while at the same time positing that both the law of nature and the law of reason (essentially the same thing) were operative i n the natural, or f a l l e n , man.

To the s c h o l a s t i c , the laws of reason and nature were

written on the heart of man by God.

However, i n the f i r s t half

of the seventeenth century, when Descartes and the s c i e n t i f i c philosophers of the Paduan school began exploring and defining methodologies

new

i n philosophy and science, they sparked d i a l e c t i c a l

arguments over the d e f i n i t i o n s of man which became, on the one hand, an i n t e l l e c t u a l revolt against the doctrines of the older scholastic philosophers, and on the other, one of the defining "motifs" of seventeenth century philosophy. We can begin with Hugo von Grotius, whose De Jure B e l l i ac Pacis was published i n 1625, and who

i s the f i r s t to begin secularizing the

concept of the law of nature.

Grotius, to be sure, follows the

scholastics i n assuming that the law of nature i s the same as the law of reason.

But, he also writes, "The law of nature i s a dictate of

right reason, which points out that an act, according as i t i s or i s not i n conformity with r a t i o n a l nature, has i n i t a quality of moral

88 baseness or moral necessity; and that, i n consequence, such an act i s either forbidden or enjoined by the author of nature, God.""' Thus, instead of the law of nature being obligatory because i t i s the w i l l of God, i t i s obligatory because i t i s grounded i n reason. nature, then, becomes "the mother.of the law of nature". Grotius' mistake, according

Human

However,

to l a t e r "natural law. philosophers,"

was to reject the concept of isolated'man as the basis of h i s investigation.

Hobbes, Locke, and Pufendorf, a l l following the

secularizing trend i n i t i a t e d i n Grotius, define the abstract essence of man as complete solitude; i n other words, a state of i s o l a t i o n and alienation from his fellows. Hobbes, i n Leviathan (published i n 1651), f i r s t draws h i s t h e o r e t i c a l man outside of society:

Hobbes' state of nature and h i s

natural man are both l o g i c a l , not h i s t o r i c a l , hypotheses. His picture of man i n the state of nature i s , i n t h i s sense, c l e a r l y the abstract negation of man i n c i v i l i z e d society: In such condition, there i s no place for industry; because the f r u i t thereof i s uncertain: and consequently no culture of the earth; no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building; no instruments of moving, and removing, such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth; no account to time; no a r t s ; no l e t t e r s ; no society; and which i s worst of a l l , continual fear, and danger of violent death; and the l i f e of man, s o l i t a r y , poor, nasty, brutish, and short.1 The state of nature, according

to Hobbes, i s a state of perpetual

war—both of man against man and man against nature—where man i s motivated by two primary emotions, fear and desire.

And, i t would

seem, Crusoe i s describing himself i n just this Hobbesian state of nature when he lands on h i s i s l a n d :

89

I had a dreadful Deliverance: For I was wet, had no Clothes to s h i f t me, neither did I see any Prospect before me, but that of perishing with Hunger, or being devour'd by wild Beasts; and that which was p a r t i c u l a r l y a f f l i c t i n g to me was that 1 had no Weapon either to hunt and k i l l any Creature for my Sustenance, or to defend my s e l f against any other Creature that might desire to k i l l me for t h e i r s : In a Word, I had nothing about me but a Knife, a Tobacco-pipe, and a l i t t l e Tobacco i n a Box, this was a l l my Provision, and threw me into t e r r i b l e Agonies of Mind, that for a while I run about l i k e a Mad-man; Night coming upon me, I began with a heavy Heart to consider what would be my Lot i f there were ravenous Beasts i n that Country, seeing at Night they always come abroad for t h e i r Prey. ( I , 50-51) Crusoe, l i k e a "meer Brute," must spend the night i n a tree. Samuel Pufendorf, born in the same year as Locke, describes h i s t h e o r e t i c a l natural man

as Hobbes does, and this description too,

f i t s Robinson Crusoe p e r f e c t l y : What a wretched Creature we should at least behold! A mute and an ignoble Animal, Master of no Powers or Capacities any farther than to pluck up the Herbs and Roots that grow about him; to gather the Fruits which he did not plant; to quench h i s Thirst at the f i r s t River, or Fountain or Ditch, that he finds out i n h i s way; to creep into a Cave for Shelter from the Injuries of Weather, or to cover over h i s Body with Moss and Grass and Leaves; Thus would he pass a heavy L i f e i n most tedious Idleness; would tremble at every Noise, and be scar'd at the approach of any of his Fellow Creatures, t i l l at l a s t his miserable days were concluded by the Extremity of Hunger or T h i r s t , or by the Fury of a ravenous beast.8 The purpose of Hobbes' description of the state of nature as a state of war and fear i s to b u i l d up a theory of absolute monarchy based firmly on laws which govern men's behavior i n such a natural state.

Thus, with Hobbes, and l a t e r with Pufendorf and Locke, natural

law evolves into both a moral and a p o l i t i c a l doctrine based upon, and i n s i s t i n g on, the i n d i v i d u a l man's rights to self-defense and self-preservation.

90

Of course, Locke's argument d i f f e r s r a d i c a l l y from Hobbes' in at least one way:

I f Hobbes reasons from the state of nature i n order

to indicate that the best possible government i s an absolute monarchy, then Locke argues from the natural state i n order to prove the best government i s e s s e n t i a l l y democratic.

Certainly, Locke's popularity

i n the eighteenth century i s i n part explained through this fundamental purpose of h i s argument.

As John Plamenatz states, "Locke's Treatise

was popular becasuse i t suited the s o c i a l aspirations and also the i n t e l l e c t u a l prejudices of classes growing i n importance, classes l i v i n g on rents and p r o f i t s and employing wage-labourers.

It i s a

theory made up of old ingredients presented i n a more secular and

9 modern, and therefore a t t r a c t i v e form." Thus, when Locke argues from the state of nature i n h i s Second Treatise of Government, his purpose i s to prove that the existing form of government i n England at that time ( i . e . , the period following the

Glorious Revolution) i s the best type of government.

In making

this argument, Locke incorporates the most common and acceptable ideas of ihe period on natural law and the state of nature, the use of reason and divine law, and the form of government, into a system both r a t i o n a l and desirable to a major portion of the society of early eighteenth-century England.

Locke's philosophy,

then, i s made up of the leading, and popular, ideas of the time, and before r e l a t i n g i t " t o Defoe's own very popular novel, we need to discuss i t s three basic concepts:

the state of nature, the law of

nature and the place of reason and divine law, and the concept of property.

91

F i r s t , Locke's view of the state of nature i s a b i t : more optimistic than Hobbes', especially with h i s apparent incorporation of Christian p r i n c i p l e s into this state. of nature i n two ways; state of war.

For one thing, Locke describes the state

i t can be a state of-peace, or i t can be a

I t i s a state of war i f any man "attempts to get

another Man into his absolute p o w e r . B u t , the men who attempt to do t h i s — t h a t i s , encroach on the fundamental

freedom of others

without proper consent being g i v e n — a r e obviously f u l l of "Malice, Violence," and want only the "Mutual Destruction" of mankind.

Man, i n the

state of nature, r e a l i z e s the many benefits to be derived from maintaining peace with h i s fellows.

This way of thinking i s possible

because man i s e s s e n t i a l l y a r a t i o n a l creature; he has "a knowledge of himself, which the beasts have not."''""'" Man, i n the state of nature, i s thus governed by a law of Nature...which obliges everyone: And Reason, which i s that Law, teaches a l l Mankind, who w i l l but consult i t , that being a l l equal and independent, no one ought to harm another i n his L i f e , Health, Liberty, or Possessions. For Men being a l l the Workmanship of one Omnipotent, and i n f i n i t e l y wise Maker; A l l the Servants of one Sovereign Master, sent into the World by his order and about his business, they are his Property, whose workmanship they are.... Man, then, i s created equal with his fellows, and "Every one," even i n the state of nature, " i s bound to preserve himself, and not to quit his

Station w i l f u l l y . "

In so obeying the dictates of natural law and

reason, the i n d i v i d u a l helps to "preserve the rest of Mankind" (Locke's italics).

Those who transgress natural law declare themselves "to

l i v e by another Rule, than that of reason and common Equity, which i s that measure God has set to the actions of Men f o r their mutual security ,,12

92

Even i n a state of nature, then, man should assume his proper role i n that universal order set and sanctioned by God f o r the benefit of humanity.

In obeying the law of nature and the dictates of reason,

man i s also obeying divine law, and Locke grants to the natural state of man a Christian moral tone not found i n the Hobbesian view.

In

his Essay Concerning Human Understanding. Locke states that man's duty i s , i n e f f e c t , to discover the purpose for which God has placed him on earth, and what, i n fact, h i s duty i s .

This discovery leads

to greater knowledge and self-awareness: Therefore, as God has set some things i n broad daylight; as he has given us some certain knowledge, though limited to a few things i n comparison, probably as a taste of what i n t e l l e c t u a l creatures are capable of to excite i n us a desire and endeavour a f t e r a better state: so, i n the greatest part of our concernments, he has afforded us only the twilight, as I may so say, of p r o b a b i l i t y ; suitable, I presume, to that state of mediocrity and probationership-he has been pleased to place us i n here; wherein, to check our over-confidence and presumption, we might, by every day's experience, be made sensible of our short-sightedness and liableness to error; the sense whereof might be a constant admonition to us, to spend the days of this our pilgrimage with industry and care, in the search and following of that way which might lead us to a state of greater perfection. I t being highly r a t i o n a l to think, even were revelation s i l e n t i n the case, that, as men employ those talents God has given them here, they s h a l l accordingly receive their rewards at the close of the day, when their sun s h a l l set, and night s h a l l put an end to t h e i r labours.13 Locke could here be describing the basic Christian outlook on l i f e as a pilgrimage wherein man i s aided through both reason and revelation to come to a greater knowledge of himself, h i s place and duty i n the world, and h i s Maker.

Morality, then, i n Locke's view, " i s the proper

science and business of mankind i n general," and "Moral philosophy comprehends r e l i g i o n too, or a man's whole duty...."

Reason can

discover to us both natural law and divine law, since the two are

93

e s s e n t i a l l y the same, and this use of reason coupled, Locke h i n t s , with revelation (a matter of faith) leads to the knowledge of one's position i n a .sane and r a t i o n a l universe. Thus, we see the morality inherent i n Locke's conception of human nature and h i s view of how man should r a t i o n a l l y act.

It i s

e s s e n t i a l l y the same morality that one finds i n more properly "Puritan" works of the same period, The New Whole Duty of Man,

containing the

Faith as well as Practice of a Christian and Richard Baxter's Christian Directory, both of which were extremely popular and i n f l u e n t i a l writings i n the period between 1670 and 1720.

Both books

describe the r a t i o n a l , happy man who becomes the model for the eighteenth century man, and both picture man as being moral because he i s r a t i o n a l .

And again, as John Plamenatz states, Locke "believed

that men are moral because they are by nature r a t i o n a l , and can therefore discover, merely be r e f l e c t i n g on what i s involved i n being human, how they ought to behave.""'""' There i s also another important part of Locke's philosophy which involves two central concepts which l i e at the core of h i s thought:

individualism and property.

When Locke follows Hobbes i n

defining the bases of human nature through a .removal of man from society and a concomitant placing of him i n the state of nature, he, l i k e Hobbes, emphasizes an e s s e n t i a l l y s o l i p s i s t i c view of man—a view which i s also present and prevalent throughout the philosophical, p o l i t i c a l and economic writings of the seventeenth century. bases h i s philosophy on an egocentric individualism: state of nature, i s completely on h i s own.

man,

Hobbes

i n the

"Locke," says Ian Watt,

"constructed the class system of p o l i t i c a l thought based on the

94 i n d e f e a s i b i l i t y of i n d i v i d u a l rights, as against the more t r a d i t i o n a l ones of Church, Family, or King." ^ 1

Watt goes on to indicate that

Locke's emphasis on individualism i s fundamental to the epistemology of our modern period, and he i s e s s e n t i a l l y correct i n doing so. Basic to the Essay concerning Human Understanding i s a concern with p a r t i c u l a r and individuating circumstances i n constructing a theory of knowledge.

In h i s concern for precise observation i n the

recording of human thought, Locke focusses on descriptions of i n t e r mediate processes i n the i n d i v i d u a l human mind.

His focus i s on the

inner man—an i n d i v i d u a l different from a l l others i n that h i s patterns of thought are, through bits p a r t i c u l a r experience of the world, unique to him alone.

Likewise, i n his Two Treatises of Government, Locke

presents his natural man

as a creature "loose from a l l s o c i a l d i s c i p l i n e ;

he i s autonomous and self-contained, and belongs to no s o c i a l order, no community""'"^—except, one might'add, a natural community. of course, what i s essential to the d e f i n i t i o n of man i n d i v i d u a l i s the concept that each man Person."

And,

as a complete

"has a Property i n h i s own

Locke continues: This no Body has any Right to but himself. The Labour of h i s Body, and the Work of his Hands, we may say, are properly h i s . Whatsoever then he removes out of the State of Nature hath provided, and l e f t i t i n , he hath mixed his Labour with, and joyned to i t something that i s his own, and thereby makes i t h i s Property.

We have moved here from the idea that man has a property i n his person to the idea that he can extend h i s basic property into the state of nature by mixing h i s labor with i t .

And again, Locke i s a r t i c u l a t i n g

a set of values that had achieved almost the status of a t r a d i t i o n in the seventeenth century.

95

" A l l roads i n our period have led to individualism," states h i s t o r i a n Christopher H i l l i n h i s discussion of the seventeenth 19 century.

This of course includes the philosophic road, and

Locke's epistemology i t s e l f i s merely a continuation of the i n d i v i d u a l i s t i c and introspective method used by Descartes e a r l i e r i n the same century.

Also, his theory of man and property goes back at least to

the Puritan pamphleteers

at the time of the c i v i l war.

In 1646,

Henry Overton, i n h i s An Arrow against a l l Tyrants, stated what i s e s s e n t i a l l y the same doctrine: To Every I n d i v i d u a l l i n nature i s given an i n d i v i d u a l property by nature, not to be invaded or usurped by any: for every one as he i s himselfe, so he hath a s e l f e propriety, else could he not be himselfe .and on this no second may presume to deprive any of,, without manifest v i o l a t i o n and affront to the very p r i n c i p l e of nature, and of the Rules of equity and j u s t i c e between man and man; mine and thine cannot be, except this be; No man hath power over my rights and l i b e r t i e s , and I over no mans; I may but an I n d i v i d u a l l , enjoy myselfe, and my s e l f e propriety, and may write my s e l f e no more than my s e l f e , or presume any further; i f I doe, I am an encroacher & an invader upon an other mans Right, to which I have no Right. For by n a t u r a l l b i r t h , a l l menare equally and a l i k e borne to l i k e propriety, l i b e r t y and freedome, and as we are delivered of God by the hand of nature into this world, every one with a n a t u r a l l , innate freedome and propriety (as i t were writ i n the table of every mans heart, never to be obliterated) even so are we to l i v e , every one equally and a l i k e to enjoy his B i r t h - r i g h t and p r i v i l e d g e ; even a l l whereof God by nature hath made him ifree. Overton goes on to stress the sanctity of i n d i v i d u a l freedom and equality, and to define man as an egocentric creature:

"Every man

by nature being a King, P r i e s t and Prophet i n h i s owne n a t u r a l l c i r c u i t e and compasse, whereof no second may partake, but by deputation, commission,

and free consent from him, whose n a t u r a l l 20

right and freedome i t i s .

Overton, then, argues that each man

96

is behaving r a t i o n a l l y and reasonably, according to both the law of nature and moral law, when he seeks to preserve his e s s e n t i a l freedom. Overton, of course, r e f l e c t s the same fundamental individualism and i t s connection with a concept of property that i s found i n both Hobbes and Locke.

This egocenfcricism i s so central to the Puritan

r e l i g i o n that when William Haller stresses " s p i r i t u a l equalitarianism" and individualism as basic to Puritanism, he i s also quick to connect

this ideology to the "accelerating democratization of English 21

society" and to a basis i n a common view of natural law.

Also,

C.B. MacPherson has written convincingly of the r i s e of individualism and i t s r e l a t i o n to property i n p o l i t i c a l philosophy; H.M. Robertson has discussed i t with s p e c i f i c reference to the r i s e of the trading state; and both Christopher H i l l and Maurice Ashley have traced the important

changes i n economics as English society evolved from the

e s s e n t i a l l y feudal system of guilds and royally chartered companies in the Renaissance to the m e r c a n t i l i s t — i n some cases

laissez-faire— 22

system and j o i n t - s t o c k companies of the late seventeenth

century.

Defoe, of course, with h i s interest i n both trade and p o l i t i c s , was aware of, and v i t a l l y concerned with, questions on the concepts of property and individualism i n the early eighteenth century.

He

f i l l e d the pages of his Review with h i s ideas on trade, p o l i t i c s , and morality, and produced a long series of pamphlets on the same subjects. His f i c t i o n can i n fact be seen as a l o g i c a l extension of these e a r l i e r a r t i c l e s and pamphlets; Defoe, i n other words, uses a f i c t i o n a l form as a vehicle for conveying his ideas on man and society. At the same time, his novels are, or can be considered to be, aesthetic structures.

97 We would expect Defoe to consciously use r h e t o r i c a l and s t r u c t u r a l devices to define and explore these i n d i v i d u a l i s t i c and s o c i a l themes i n h i s f i c t i o n , and we would thus also expect the threepart d i v i s i o n of The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe to.mean something in r e l a t i o n to the author's intentions.

We have already seen that the

three-part structure underpins and helps to express the book's Christian and economic themes.

It remains to indicate how

this

d i v i s i o n c l a r i f i e s and patterns the development of Crusoe's knowledge from his "brutish" beginning wherein he i s o l a t e s himself from society to his w i l l i n g reentry back into society at the end of the book. of

In this manner, the theme of individualism and the pattern

Crusoe's developing self-knowledge combine to form a more philosophical

interpretation of the f i r s t volume of Crusoe's adventures. We have already seen that Crusoe, i n his pre-island adventures, i s very much a l a i s s e z - f a i r e i n d i v i d u a l i s t .

His economic schemes,

his

desire to r i s e faster than "the nature of the thing" allows, and

his

complete disregard for any prompting toward a balanced and normal

l i f e , point to Crusoe as being a " C a p i t a l i s t " i n Watt's Marxist sense of the term ( i . e . , one who status quo). a man his

continually transforms the economic

But at the same time, Defoe stresses that Crusoe i s not

of reason—not even a r a t i o n a l c r e a t u r e — f o r his passions rule

actions.

He breaks h i s "vows and promises" to lead a better

l i f e , h i s obstinacy wins over h i s reason and judgment, and whereas reason ought to guide him, h i s "wild and undigested notions of r a i s i n g [his]

fortune" come to control h i s thoughts and actions.

Thus, as he

points out with reference to the slaving expedition which ends with his

i s o l a t i o n on the i s l a n d , he i s "the w i l f u l agent" of h i s own

98

miseries, and he e n t i r e l y gives over to his " f o o l i s h i n c l i n a t i o n " by abandoning, and abusing, his prosperous plantation i n B r a z i l . F i n a l l y , he notes that he obeys " b l i n d l y the dictates of [his] fancy rather than [his] reason" (I, 4 3 ) .

His shipwreck on the

i s l a n d and his descent into the physical state of nature merely complete this picture of Crusoe as an animal:

he i s , i n other

words, a b r u t i s h being controlled completely by his own passions.

Thus,

the moral tone of the books would indicate that Crusoe the c a p i t a l i s t , by opposing the dictates of Nature and Reason, i s breaking the Law of Nature by allowing himself

to be controlled by animal i n s t i n c t s .

He would, i n fact, compare with the Hobbesian man who i s motivated in his actions by two emotions—fear and d e s i r e — a n d there might also be some resemblance to Locke's perpetrator nature.

of the state of war i n

Crusoe's i s o l a t i o n on the i s l a n d i s e s s e n t i a l l y no d i f f e r e n t

than h i s i s o l a t i o n i n society except that, now that he doesn't have human companionship, he misses i t . Crusoe's i r r a t i o n a l behavior, his

basis of action i n i n s t i n c t , h i s e s s e n t i a l l y b r u t i s h human

n a t u r e — a l l of his basic personality t r a i t s before he landed on his i s l a n d — r e c e i v e concrete embodiment i n this physical i s o l a t i o n . On this i s l a n d he i s , at f i r s t , the same Crusoe—alone, acting according to fear and desire, sunk into a state of nature.

But i t soon

becomes apparent that he i s growing out of t h i s state, leaving behind his

animal i n s t i n c t s , and become a r a t i o n a l man. Defoe's use of a f i r s t person narrator who i s recounting his

early adventures contributes of the book.

to the moral tone of these early parts

We have already seen that the older Crusoe i s able to

give Christian and emblematic s i g n i f i c a n c e to his youthful

exigencies

99

by r e f e r r i n g the reader to p a r a l l e l s between h i s own story and those of the prodigal son, Jonah, and the f a l l of man.

It

undoubtedly i s Defoe's a r t i s t i c intention to indicate a disparity between the moral tone implied through the intrusions of the older Crusoe and the actions of the young Crusoe which involve "rash and immoderate" desires and "wild and undigested" notions.

The moral

i s , of course, pointed out several times by the narrator.

One

instance of this i s Crusoe's e a r l i e s t r e f l e c t i o n on quitting the adventuring l i f e . his

This r e f l e c t i o n occurs almost immediately a f t e r

f i r s t sea voyage ends i n near disaster: As to going home, shame opposed the best motions that offered to my thoughts; and i t immediately occurred to me how I should be laughed at among the neighbours, and should be ashamed to see, not my father and mother only, but even every body else; from whence I have since often observed how incongruous and i r r a t i o n a l the common temper of mankind i s , e s p e c i a l l y of youth, to that reason which ought to guide them i n such cases, v i z . , that they are not ashamed to s i n , and yet are ashamed to repent; not ashamed of the action for which they ought j u s t l y to be esteemed fools, but are ashamed of the returning, which only can make them be esteemed wise men. (I, 15-16)

Here, the contrast between the young and f o o l i s h Crusoe and the moral tone of the older narrating Crusoe i s made e x p l i c i t through a juxtaposition of

a " f o o l i s h " notion of shame and wiser observations,, after the second

semi-colon, of the narrating voice.

There are other such juxtapositions

throughout this early part of the narrative, as the narrator both comments on his e a r l i e r sins and adumbrates the coming events.

Thus, there are

references to "something f a t a l i n that propension of nature" ( I , 2) and to the "miseries which Nature and the station of life...provided against" (I, 4).

The implication throughout these early sections i s

that Crusoe i s a " f o o l " i n his revolt against the middle station of

100

l i f e and against a natural order.

Consequently, the major contrast

in this part of the book i s between Crusoe the ignorant young f o o l and Crusoe the man of moral awareness and self-knowledge.

Crusoe's

early actions spring from f o o l i s h i n c l i n a t i o n s , not from any p r i n c i p l e s of reason or f a i t h , and both Defoe's s t y l e and technique indicate t h i s obstinacy and bull-headedness i n a -young Crusoe who lacks reason or judgment. It i s also important to note that Defoe, i n structuring these early parts of his narrative, shows Crusoe as always gravitating back toward the middle station in l i f e which he had scorned at the beginning of his adventures.

The older Crusoe notes that he once

approached the middle station when h i s B r a z i l i a n plantation began to prosper, and again, on h i s i s l a n d , he t r i e s to achieve the same q u a l i t i e s of ease, s t a b i l i t y , and security by which his father had characterized this station.

This tendency of Crusoe's to return

to the middle station—whether he l i k e s i t , or wants to, or n o t — would seem to indicate that this i s h i s true "natural" i n c l i n a t i o n , rather than his own f o o l i s h , and therefore "unnatural," i n c l i n a t i o n . Through h i s perhaps unnatural acts, the results of h i s following the promptings of a f o o l i s h i n c l i n a t i o n and desire, he continually i s o l a t e s himself from the society of men.

His s e l f i s h and egocentric drive to

extend his material wealth and holdings results i n a reversal of h i s fortunes and his i s o l a t i o n from human society. F i n a l l y , Crusoe i s isolated from society not through any act of his own, but through the action of Providence.

Crusoe i s then sunk

into the state of nature that, i n one sense, represents the l o g i c a l outcome of his previous actions; by following completely h i s i r r a t i o n a l

101

passions and desires, Crusoe i s the Hobbesian natural man,

and thus his

actions eventually lead him back from society into the state of nature.

On his island, i n complete i s o l a t i o n from mankind, Crusoe i s

forced through necessity to change the basis of his action, and he must, simply by force of circumstance, begin p u l l i n g himself out of this lowest state of "brutishness." It i s at this point i n his adventures that h i s actions tend to take on a p o s i t i v e q u a l i t y , f o r he begins to base them on more r a t i o n a l thoughts.

In f a c t , a l l of

Crusoe's actions from t h i s point o n — i n c l u d i n g h i s accountant's figures, his calendar-maker's

dates,the itemizing of h i s possessions, the circum-

s t a n t i a l descriptions of p r o j e c t s — a r e necessary steps he must take on the long and sometimes d i f f i c u l t path back to society. Defoe's intentions become apparent.

Here again,

Most of the seventeenth-century

accounts of shipwrecked and stranded s a i l o r s point out the degrading psychological effects of i s o l a t i o n ; they lose the faculty of speech, go mad,

and even die.

for a good reason.

But. Defoe disregards these e f f e c t s , and i t i s

He intends, i n his f i c t i o n a l account of one

man's i s o l a t i o n , to indicate the p o s s i b i l i t i e s of moral and r a t i o n a l growth i n his hero, and thus to indicate something about the nature of man

and his place i n the world. The change i n Crusoe—his acquisition of both rudimentary

self-knowledge and a general, p r a c t i c a l knowledge through e x p e r i e n c e — i s signalled i n several places i n the text.

After he has salvaged

most of the material he needs from the ship, he' sets about improving his l i v i n g quarters, securing himself from wild beasts and savages, and, symbolically, p u l l i n g himself out of the state of nature.

He does a l l

this through an application of reason to his s i t u a t i o n , and the text

102

r e f l e c t s this use of reason by i n d i c a t i n g an e x p l i c i t l o g i c of development i n Crusoe's thoughts—something that he lacked before. Consider, as an example, the following account of how Crusoe comes to locate h i s new dwelling: My thoughts were now wholly employed about securing myself against either savages, i f any should appear, or wild beasts, i f any were on the i s l a n d ; and I had many thoughts of the method how to do t h i s , and what kind of dwelling to make, whether I should make me a cave i n the earth, or a tent upon the earth; and, i n short, I resolved upon both, the manner and description of which i t may not be improper to give an account of. I soon found the place I was i n was not for my s e t t l e ment, p a r t i c u l a r l y because i t was upon a low moorish ground near the sea, and I believed would not be wholesome; and more p a r t i c u l a r l y because there was no fresh water near i t . So I resolved to f i n d a more healthy and more convenient spot of ground. I consulted several things i n my s i t u a t i o n , which I found would be proper for me. F i r s t , health and fresh water, I just now mentioned. Secondly, shelter from the heat of the sun. Thirdly, security from ravenous creatures, whether men or beasts. Fourthly, a view to the sea, that i f God sent any ship i n sight I might not lose any advantage f o r my deliverance, of which I was not w i l l i n g to banish a l l my expectation yet. (I, 63) Thus, Crusoe begins h i s search f o r a pr-o P -

er

location for h i s dwelling,

and thus he begins to domesticate h i s island.

There are several important

things worth noting i n this passage. F i r s t , Crusoe's actions are w e l l thought out i n advance; there i s a careful weighing of facts before a conclusion i s reached—something which does not occur to this extent i n any of the e a r l i e r portions of the story.

Second, there i s a l o g i c a l

continuity to Crusoe's thought; again something we do not see i n previous parts of the book. i s exceedingly r a t i o n a l :

And t h i r d , the structure of the passage i t s e l f

though Crusoe may have "many thoughts," he

i s able to sort them out and present the important ones accurately and l o g i c a l l y , to himself for consideration, and thus he can make strong and

103

r a t i o n a l resolutions which, lead both to a greater control over the natural environment and to a greater control over his own thoughtprocesses - and behavior.

Also, as we have seen, Crusoe i s f a i r l y

methodical when he salvages materials from his ship.

He does make

mistakes, nearly sinking his raft twice, and rather f o o l i s h l y taking o f f everything he can get his hands on. But again, he c a r e f u l l y considers a l l the factors, advantages, and disadvantages, and thus displays the f i r s t crude use of a r a t i o n a l i t y that w i l l allow him to control and order a major portion of the natural environment on his island. Following the Lockean concept of property and labour, Crusoe, in mixing his labor with the natural environment, manifests a "natural" human control over i t , and also extends the property into i t .

of his person

Thus, i n the many passages wherein Crusoe takes pride i n his

belongings and i n his accomplishments, he i s celebrating not only the triumph of human reason over both the state of nature and the brutish aspects of his own human nature, but also the a c q u i s i t i o n of property through his own action and increasing self-knowledge. p r a c t i c a l knowledge and true confidence

In fact, as h i s

(as opposed to false pride)

increase, h i s actions evolve into gradually more and more patterns, and his property

complicated

increases from the time he s i t s i n h i s

cave and takes pride i n the orderly arrangement of the items he has salvaged

from the ship, to the place i n his narrative where he can

say (after his repentance): delicious vale, surveying

"I descended a l i t t l e on the side of that

i t with a secret kind of pleasure

mixed with my other a f f l i c t i n g thoughts),

(though

to think that this was a l l

my own, that I was king and l o r d of a l l this country indefeasibly and

104

had a right of possession;

and i f I could convey i t , I might have i t i n

inheritance, as completely as any lord of a manor i n England" (I, 110). And again, l a t e r on i n the narrative, Crusoe r e f l e c t s on knowledge, reasonable a c q u i s i t i o n , and usefulness:

"In a word, the nature and

experience of things dictated to me upon just r e f l e c t i o n that a l l the good things of this world are no farther good to us than they are for our use; and that whatever we may

heap up indeed to give others,

we enjoy just as much as we can use, and no more" (I, 143). F i r s t , Crusoe i s j u s t i f i e d i n claiming ownership of the island i n the Lockean sense, since he has mixed his labor with large parts of i t , and since i t i s part of the natural order, or of things, for man

to dominate.

As Locke-states

way

i n his F i r s t

Treatise of Government: For the desire, the strong desire of Preserving his L i f e and Being having been Planted i n him, as a P r i n c i p l e of Action by God himself, Reason, which was the Voice of God i n him, could not but teach him and assure him, that pursuing that natural I n c l i n a t i o n he had to preserve h i s Being, he followed the W i l l of his Maker, and therefore had a.right to make use of those Creatures, which by his Reason or Senses he could discover would be serviceable thereunto. And thus Man's Property in the Creatures, was founded upon the right he had, to make use of those things, that were necessary or useful to his Being.23 And

further on, in•the chapter on property i n the Second Treatise, Locke

again indicates that God

(or Providence) works through man's reason to

allow him to subdue and order the earth according and of

to the laws of nature

property: God and his Reason commanded to subdue the Earth, i . e . improve i t for the benefit of L i f e , and therein lay out something upon i t that was his own, his labour. He that i n Ohedience to t h i s Command of God, subdued, t i l l e d and sowed any part of i t , , thereby annexed to i t something that was his Property, which another had no T i t l e to, nor could without injury take from him.24

105

Therefore, i n Locke's Treatises, God gave the earth to man to c u l t i v a t e , and order, according to reason, which i s God's w i l l , which is also the law of nature and thus the law which society should model i t s e l f on.

As Locke states near the end of h i s F i r s t Treatise, "the

positive Laws of Society" are "made conformable to the Laws of Nature, for the public good, i . e . the good of every p a r t i c u l a r Member of 25 that society."

Locke's concepts of property and i n d i v i d u a l i t y ,

then, are at one with h i s concepts of natural order and the stable arrangement of society; and a l l , of course, find their basis i n God's w i l l as that w i l l i s indicated by both the voice of Reason and Providence.

The s p i r i t u a l i z e d cosmos at the back of Locke's

philosophy i s the same as that which operates continually through Rob in s on C rus oe; and, as we have already seen, Providence and Crusoe work very closely together to order the natural environment on the island and to create a status quo that—according to Watt, MacPherson, and o t h e r s — i s so unprofitable to the true c a p i t a l i s t . Second, as our quotations from Defoe's novel indicate, once Crusoe masters his passion he gains the use of h i s more r a t i o n a l f a c u l t i e s , and i t i s through this learning process that he completes his conquest of the natural environment by extending his property on the island.

Thus, once again, the pattern of Crusoe's meditations indicates

h i s growing r a t i o n a l i t y and self-knowledge as he subdues and orders h i s environment.

For example, when Crusoe r e f l e c t s on "stating and squaring

everything by reason, and making the most r a t i o n a l judgment of things" C i , 74), he i s involved i n enlarging his cave, producing h i s f i r s t table and chair, making shelves, and ordering h i s goods inside h i s fortification.

Soon after t h i s , Crusoe begins keeping h i s Journal, which

106

seems to him to be a f i t place for recording both his r e f l e c t i o n s on h i s s i t u a t i o n and what he does i n that s i t u a t i o n — h i s daily a c t i v i t i e s i n other words.

I t i s i n t e r e s t i n g , at this point, that

the narrative eye of the older Crusoe becomes the narrative " I " of a diary, perhaps indicating that i n one sense, Crusoe i s developing the perspective of the older narrative voice.

The Journal does

contain some e s s e n t i a l l y moral r e f l e c t i o n s , but the perceptions are not yet turned inward to record the state of Crusoe's soul. kind of observation w i l l come only a f t e r h i s conversion.

This

So, for the

time being at any rate, Defoe i s more largely concerned with presenting to h i s readers Crusoe's r e l a t i v e success i n ordering his actions and his thoughts according to reason.

At the same time, this pattern of

i n t e r i o r growth and external conquest again p a r a l l e l s certain basic ideas i n Locke's philosophy. According to both Locke and Defoe, man i s not born with a knowledge of the law of nature, or of the uses of reason. f a c u l t i e s must be developed—a

Man's

learning process must take p l a c e — b e f o r e

he can e f f e c t u a l l y p u l l himself out of the state of brute nature to a position of self-knowledge and r a t i o n a l i t y .

As Locke asks i n h i s

Second Essay of the Law of Nature, " i f a l l men are l e d to the knowledge of i t [the law of nature] by the l i g h t of nature, how does i t arise that very many ariortals are without knowledge of this law and nearly a l l think of i t d i f f e r e n t l y , a fact that does not seem possible i f a l l men are l e d to the knowledge of i t by the l i g h t of nature?"

Locke's answer

i s that, since the law of nature i s not innate i n a l l men, a proper use of mental f a c u l t i e s ( i . e . , reason) w i l l lead man to a knowledge of this 2.6 law.

This knowledge, as those who have read the Essay concerning

107 Human Understanding w i l l t e s t i f y , can be gained through experience and contemplation.

This i s how, according to Locke, man transcends the

brutish state of nature. ways:

Man' d i f f e r s from the brute animals i n three

man has reason and memory, he can learn from experience, and he

can come to act i n accord with the results of his contemplation. Man, then, i s free at any time to use h i s f a c u l t i e s of reason and contemplation to gain a knowledge of the workings of nature, the society he l i v e s i n , and the universe. In most of Defoe's f i c t i o n , characters are more largely by their environment than by any innate or hereditary t r a i t s .

determined

Colonel

Jack, of course, has certain t r a i t s which lead people to think he i s of noble, or high-ranking, b i r t h .

However, characters such .as he and Captain

Singleton are ignorant of the moral and s o c i a l e v i l s of pickpocketing or p i r a t i n g u n t i l they are t o l d , or somehow learn, that such actions controvert moral and s o c i a l order.

As Jonathan Bishop states, i n

h i s a r t i c l e , "Knowledge and Action i n Defoe's Novels," NoifcwoniHyedoes eachohero start'the book as a tabula rasa, but before every p r i n c i p a l adventure he i s again reduced to this state. Moll Flanders i s broke and desperate when she starts a new attempt. Bob Singleton i s marooned on the coast of Madagascar, Robinson Crusoe wrecked on a desert i s l a n d , Colonel Jack transplanted as a felon to V i r g i n i a . In each case the hero i s stripped naked and must begin again the laborious business of learning and applying his knowledge.29 Once f i l l e d with abhorrence

towards the e v i l of their deeds,

Defoe's characters often try to remedy the situations they created, or they repent and l i v e good, Christian l i v e s .

In this sense, a l l of Defoe's

novels are stories of men and women learning about themselves

through

a combination of a close interaction with t h e i r environment, and consequent

108

reflections on what they have learned from their i n t e r a c t i o n . creates situations for his main characters

Defoe

through which he can

his doctrine of necessity and self-preservation.

illustrate

In other words,

commiting a moral sin i s often necessary simply i n order to survive i n this world.

However, at the same time, Defoe's characters

learning through experience and r e f l e c t i o n to become moral and good human beings.

are

n essentially

In this larger context, then, Defoe's

novels are studies i n the acquisition of knowledge through experience. The.direct

causal relationship between experience and knowledge i s , of

course, fundamentally Lockean, and at the same time allows Defoe to indicate what a society of men would be. l i k e :

devoid of morality

and r a t i o n a l i t y

i t would be, simply, a Hobbesian state of n a t u r e —

a world f i l l e d with pickpockets and thieves and lacking any order or sanity. men

who

and who

That i s , society would be such i f not for the existence are knowledgeable in the ways of God,

of

the laws of nature,

are aware of what t h e i r position in society i s and what the

bounds set by nature on that position are.

Man's acquisition of s e l f -

knowledge, then, would also be an affirmation of a s o c i a l and moral order i n which a society of men

can exist i n peace and harmony with

one

another. Thus, Defoe often depicts the true state of society (among the lower classes at least) not as that r a t i o n a l and moral mechanism in which a l l mankind can happily and peaceably coexist.

Rather, the

state of society i s in many cases analogous to the Hobbesian state of nature, and so Crusoe points out i n conversation in his Serious Reflections:

with an "Old Gentlewoman"

109

R.C. Truly, the main business that mankind seems to be doing i s to eat and drink; that's t h e i r enjoyment, and to get food to eat i s their employment, including a l i t t l e their eating and devouring one another. Old Gent. That's a description of them as brutes. R.C. I t i s so i n the f i r s t part, namely, t h e i r l i v i n g to eat andtdrink; but i n the last part they are worse than the brutes; for the brutes destroy not t h e i r own kind, but prey upon a different species; and besides, they prey upon one another for necessity, to s a t i s f y t h e i r hunger, and for food; but man for baser ends, such as avarice, envy, revenge, and the l i k e , devours h i s own species, nay h i s own f l e s h and blood.... ( I l l , 106) A b i t further on, Crusoe discusses the c i v i l i z i n g power of C h r i s t i a n i t y as i t works to influence men—both "savage" and " c i v i l i z e d " — t o a higher knowledge of themselves and of t h e i r proper positions i n society and nature.

F i n a l l y , i n a l a t e r work, A System of Magick, Defoe

combines p r a c t i c a l i t y , action, knowledge and understanding i n c r i t i c i z i n g the generations descended from Noah and h i s sons after the flood: j In the room of this capacious Understanding and this inquiring and applying Temper i n those Ages, behold a stupid Generation risen up i n Succession; s t r i p t as naked of the natural Glories of t h e i r Ancestors, as the Earth was of i t s natural Fruitfulness a f t e r the Curse i n Paradise; and instead of applying themselves to useful Arts, and to the acquiring of Knowledge, grown as indolent as they were ignorant, having, l i k e Solomon's Fool, no delight i n Understanding.29 In Moll Flanders, to draw an example from Defoe's f i c t i o n , society i s often pictured as a state of nature wherein man must try to survive in the midst of ignorance, foolishness, and a h o s t i l e

environment.

Robert Donovan points out, "In this respect Moll i s very much l i k e Robinson Crusoe; both are centrally concerned with the elementary problem of s u r v i v a l , and beyond that with whatever material amenities a h o s t i l e environment

can be made to p r o v i d e . T h e

fundamental

difference between the two novels i s that, i n Rob in s on C rus oe, Defoe's hero struggles i n the state of nature as nature, while i n Moll Flanders,

110

the main character d i r e c t l y confronts the moral and s o c i a l problems as they are created by the s o c i a l environment through which she moves. But, on the other hand, both novels contain a d i a l e c t i c a l opposition between a complete secular individualism and a moral v i s i o n which i n c o r porates the eighteenth century ideals of Christian morality and s o c i a l order. Perhaps, then, i n h i s f i r s t novel, Defoe has focussed on a single character through whom this d i a l e c t i c can be resolved.

We

have so f a r seen that, through an application of a r a t i o n a l knowledge and action to p r a c t i c a l problems, Crusoe i s able to p u l l himself out of a "meer State of Nature," and in so doing i s perhaps embodying the ideals of a rational,and active man. to Crusoe's own

These ideals are d i a l e c t i c a l l y ppposed

character t r a i t s i n the pre-island portion of his

that i s , before Crusoe came to h i s i s l a n d , he was

adventures;

an egocentric, possessive,

and e s s e n t i a l l y c a p i t a l i s t i c character motivated by unreasonable desires and i n c l i n a t i o n s .

But Defoe, i n ordering the events of h i s

narrative, implies that r a t i o n a l i t y i s i n s u f f i c i e n t i n aiding the good man

to perform right actions, and Crusoe needs to acquire the p r i n c i p l e s

of Christian f a i t h before h i s knowledge becomes complete and before he can therefore successfully reenter the society of men.

Crusoe, then,

needs to repent and convert himself to C h r i s t i a n i t y before he can become a good s o c i a l being.

In becoming a r a t i o n a l creature, Crusoe

has advanced one step closer to f a i t h and one step closer to a reintegration into society.

And Defoe, i n tracing this early development of Crusoe

on h i s island from the state of brute nature to a state of reasonable a c q u i s i t i o n , allows his hero just enough time to get

c

comfortably

Ill

s e t t l e d on his i s l a n d , and just enough time to gain r a t i o n a l control over his actions, before God s t r i k e s a blow that Crusoe feels w i l l surely be f a t a l . What small security Crusoe had and what s t a b i l i t y he did acquire are shattered by i l l n e s s and a t e r r i f y i n g dream. There i s a possible p a r a l l e l , however s l i g h t , between this event and the second voyage Crusoe made i n which he realized a handsome p r o f i t .

In both cases, Crusoe has gained some confidence:

his early success leads him to f e e l confident that he can perhaps make a career out of voyaging and trading, and the miracle of the grain leads him to believe that Providence i s watching over him and caring for him.

However, on his t h i r d voyage he i s captured by the Moorish

p i r a t e s , and just as he achieves a new sense of security and ease on his i s l a n d he f a l l s i l l .

comparative

In both cases, the reader i s made

aware of the fact that Providence i s responsible for both the achievement and the loss, and this fact i s one of the f i r s t that the repentant Crusoe r e a l i z e s and which humbles him before God

and

Providence. F i n a l l y , in-spending those f i r s t nine months (perhaps a period of gestation before a s p i r i t u a l rebirth) on his i s l a n d , ordering and subduing his environment for his use, Crusoe has learned to f u l l y appreciate the p r i n c i p l e s of reason, f o r they have allowed him to achieve h i s s t a b i l i t y and security.

Because r a t i o n a l i t y has become

i n t e g r a l to his thoughts and actions, he w i l l be able, upon his conversion, to successfully combine the p r i n c i p l e s of reason and Christian f a i t h i n meditating on his place i n the divine scheme. w i l l be able, i n other words, to view h i s f a i t h r a t i o n a l l y and to achieve an even greater security and peace of mind that he ever

He

112

experienced before. Defoe has ordered h i s narrative, then, to trace the growth of Robinson Crusoe into a f u l l y aware moral and r a t i o n a l being.

This

development, I would suggest, culminates i n a resolution of the d i a l e c t i c of trade and morality within the main character himself and h i s successful reintegration into society. Thus Crusoe moves from an egocentric and possessive c a p i t a l i s t to a more complete s o c i a l and moral being who eventually reassumes h i s proper station i n l i f e

(and, i t should be

pointed out, i n an e s s e n t i a l l y Christian moral and s o c i a l cosmos).

This

d i a l e c t i c a l movement, and the resolution that takes place, would be one way of making sense of the development of Crusoe through those three stages of growth discussed e a r l i e r — i m p u l s e

(brute nature), reason, and

f a i t h — a n d would allow us, f i n a l l y , to see Crusoe as embodying certain of the ideals of the eighteenth century view of man.

In the next section,

we w i l l consider the patterns of event and s i t u a t i o n i n Robinson Crusoe in order to define the f i n a l stage of the protagonist's

development—

that of f a i t h — a n d to show how this development operates to resolve the trade-morality paradox.

.•3r.I.

Possessive Individualism and the Pattern of Growth i n Robinson Crusoe

Locke's concept of property, which becomes the needed bridge i n h i s philosophy between the abstract world of the state of nature and the concrete, actual world of p o l i t i c a l l i b e r t y guaranteed by p o l i t i c a l arrangements, can also be used to begin our discussion of the d i a l e c t i c s and pattern of Robinson Crusoe.

We have seen that concept of s e l f -

ownership i s central to the philosophical and p o l i t i c a l d e f i n i t i o n of

113

individualism i n the seventeenth century. e s s e n t i a l l y "possessive"

C.B.

MacPherson defines

the

quality of this doctrine of individualism

i n h i s discussion of seventeenth century p o l i t i c a l theory: Its possessive quality i s found i n i t s conception of the i n d i v i d u a l as e s s e n t i a l l y the proprietor of his own person or capacities, owing nothing to society for them. The i n d i v i d u a l was seen neither as a moral whole, nor as part of a larger s o c i a l whole, but as an owner of himself. The r e l a t i o n of ownership, having become for more and more men the c r i t i c a l l y important r e l a t i o n determining t h e i r actual freedom and actual prospect of r e a l i z i n g t h e i r f u l l p o t e n t i a l i t i e s , was read back into the nature of the i n d i v i d u a l . The i n d i v i d u a l , i t was thought, i s free inasmuch as he i s proprietor of his person and capacities. The human essence i s freedom from dependence on the w i l l s of others, and freedom i s a function of possession. Society becomes a l o t of free equal individuals related to each other as proprietorsof t h e i r own capacities and of what they have acquired by t h e i r exercise. Society consists of relations of exchange between proprietors. P o l i t i c a l society becomes a calculated device for the protection of this property and for the maintenance of an orderly r e l a t i o n of exchange.3i Here, i n a n u t s h e l l , i s the essence of the seventeenth century theory of individualism as formulated by Hobbes, Locke, and many of the Puritan p o l i t i c a l writers. and act as he wants. self.

Man

i n a state of nature i s free to think

Freedom i s then equated with t o t a l possession of

When a free i n d i v i d u a l becomes a member of society, a contract

i s made wherein the i n d i v i d u a l gives up a certain number of freedoms for the security and the s t a b i l i t y of men.

(law and order) offered by a society

The relationship of the i n d i v i d u a l to society becomes e s s e n t i a l l y

a trade r e l a t i o n s h i p :

I w i l l trade some of my

freedom i n the state of

nature for the security and s t a b i l i t y

I expect to receive i n j o i n i n g the

society of men.

of this s t a b i l i z e d system of trade

Again, transgression

relationships upsets the balance of society-^the s o c i a l order—and consequently, law and order (morality) must step in to restore

114

the balance of relationships and to keep the i n d i v i d u a l from again upsetting the contractual arrangements. Thus, men

l i k e Defoe and Locke saw

the needu for a

Christian morality which would keep society, and the arrangements which make up that society, balanced.

Locke, for example, when

s i t t i n g on the Board of Trade i n London from 1695

to 1698,

promulgated 32

a m e r c a n t i l i s t i c economic p o l i c y tempered by a Christian morality. Likewise, Defoe, i n one of his last pieces for Applebee's Journal (11 January 1729), writes: S i r , I have upon many Occasions shewn the World that I am a constant Friend to TRADE, and Commerce, which I take to he the t h i r d general Head i n the Essentials of a Nation's Good. For,— 1. To be Uniform i n orthodox P r i n c i p l e s of Religion, adhering s t r i c t l y to the common Faith. 2. To be established on one and the same Foundation of Right and Property, Loyalty and Subjection, and 3. To be f l o u r i s h i n g and prosperous, i n just Measures, for Encouragement of Commerce, &c. These three, i n my Opinion, constitute a happy People. And

a b i t further on i n the same piece: If Trade i s the L i f e and Prosperity of a Nation i n general, and the next valuable Thing to Religion and C i v i l Government i n a Commonwealth, then the Tradesman i s a most useful and valuable Creature to his Country; and i t i s of Importance to the Publick, that he should thrive i n his private Capacity, as well as i t i s that ^ Trade, in General, should prosper as a publick Good....

Also, i n previous

a r t i c l e s for Applebee's, Defoe argues against that

extreme form of economic individualism, stock-jobbing, p i c t u r i n g the jobber as an immoral person who in order to raise his own

stock-

i s w i l l i n g to undermine s o c i a l s t a b i l i t y

fortune, and consequently, who

antithesis to the good, or "compleat," tradesman. jobber-—and the f l o a t e r of wild p r o j e c t s — t e n d s

i s the direct

In e f f e c t , the stock-

to cause society to

revert into that state of nature wherein a l l s o c i a l contracts are

115

nullified.

For a stable economy and a f l o u r i s h i n g trade, this

reversion would never do. Consequently, Defoe's e a r l i e r work, Robinson Crusoe, can be seen as a manifesto against this

.reckless and speculative "capitalism."

When Crusoe's animal nature and his desire to r i s e quickly i n the world of trade result i n h i s wild economic schemes, these schemes are

j u s t l y punished by Providence i n i t s capacity as a force of order

in the s o c i a l environment.

Thus, the f i r s t part of the novel becomes

a d i a l e c t i c i n which the thesis i s Crusoe's economic schemes and the antithesis a sense of moral T i g h t n e s s , embodied

i n Providence, which

continually plagues Crusoe's trading adventures by means of storms, shipwrecks, and c a p t i v i t y .

Crusoe, then, begins as the a c q u i s i t i v e

c a p i t a l i s t who prefers to brush aside any awareness he might have of r e l i g i o n and morality, yet eventually he reaches a "synthesis" of tradeand-morality through h i s experience and the knowledge he gains from that experience.

Again, the crucible of experience which molds Crusoe's

new knowledge i s the i s l a n d , and again, the central point i n this development i s the conversion scene.

One example w i l l serve to

indicate the difference i n Crusoe before and a f t e r h i s repentance, in both the s o c i a l and r e l i g i o u s sense. Before Crusoe lands on the i s l a n d , he never thinks seriously on r e l i g i o n or on the morality of h i s actions.

In spite of the professed

loyalty of X u r y — a loyalty which should bind both the slave and Crusoe s e l l s h i s "man"

to the Portuguese captain for sixty pieces of s i l v e r ,

twice the sum for which Judas betrayed Christ.

Crusoe i s , of course,

" l o t h to take" the money at f i r s t , since i t means s e l l i n g "the poor

116

boy's l i b e r t y , " y e t he f o r Xury, and

does i t anyway.

s t a t e s t h a t he had

L a t e r , he

r e a l i z e s h i s need

"done wrong" i n p a r t i n g w i t h

But h e r e , t h e i r r e l a t i o n s h i p i s s t a t e d i n terms of need and and

him.

usefulness

seems completely l a c k i n g i n any moral or C h r i s t i a n q u a l i t y .

even though Crusoe s e l l s Xury i n t o ten y e a r s ' bondage, he w i l l s e t f r e e o n l y i f he

turns

Christian.

Surely

s i n c e Crusoe's a c t of s e l l i n g i s i t s e l f not t h a t Cirusoe i s o n l y out boy

i s no

longer

And be

t h i s comment i s i r o n i c , very

c h a r i t a b l e ; i t seems

to t u r n the f a s t buck, d i s c a r d i n g Xury when the

useful.

T h i s e a r l y m a s t e r - s e r v a n t r e l a t i o n s h i p con-

t r a s t s w i t h the l a t e r a s s o c i a t i o n between Crusoe and

Friday.

Here,

though F r i d a y swears f e a l t y to Crusoe, becoming i n e f f e c t h i s s l a v e , Crusoe takes the pains h i m s e l f

to convert

h i s s l a v e to C h r i s t i a n i t y ,

to g i v e F r i d a y an awareness of " c i v i l i z e d " v a l u e s F r i d a y to eat h i s enemies and

(e.g.,

s a l t i n g h i s meat), and,

forbidding

in fact,

t h e i r comradeship develops i n t o a r e l a t i o n s h i p of t r u s t and out

t h e l k s t p a r t of Crusoe's n a r r a t i v e , ending only w i t h

death i n the F a r t h e r Adventures.

Besides,

servant,

enters

with a

a great

d e a l of m o r a l i t y

Crusoe and

Friday's

usefulness

of a

i n t o t h i s second a s s o c i a t i o n

i n t e r e s t i n g contrast

and

involving Friday When these two

the k i n d n e s s and

c o n t r a s t s markedly w i t h Crusoe's e a r l i e r

father.

a n a t u r a l man

relationships.

f a t h e r from the c a n n i b a l s ,

the son

of h i s own

other

the n a t u r e of s o c i a l

rescue F r i d a y ' s

and

through-

"barbarian". There i s one

shown by

then, the

love

One

i n t e r p r e t a t i o n here would be

men

solicitation

treatment

t h a t even F r i d a y ,

supposedly a savage, can show more l o y a l t y , l o v e ,

obedience to h i s f a t h e r than Crusoe, a supposedly c i v i l i z e d

did previously

and

to h i s .

Thus, Crusoe, i n the

first

man,

p a r t of h i s n a r r a t i v e ,

117

is

even l e s s than a savage i n h i s s o c i a l and moral r e l a t i o n s h i p w i t h

h i s " f a t h e r ; he i s a "meer b r u t e . " These c o n t r a s t s i n Crusoe's

r e l a t i o n s h i p s w i t h h i s two s e r v a n t s ,

and i n the two f a t h e r - s o n r e l a t i o n s h i p s , i n d i c a t e s t h a t a marked change has

taken p l a c e i n Crusoe's

knowledge.

p r i n c i p l e s o f a c t i o n and h i s s e l f -

Whereas b e f o r e h i s c o n v e r s i o n e x p e r i e n c e he o n l y honors

what we c o u l d term a " s o c i a l c o n t r a c t " i f i t i s u s e f u l is,

to.him—that

a l l o w s him to r i s e i n the w o r l d — a f t e r t h i s e x p e r i e n c e he l e a r n s t o

s u b o r d i n a t e these " o b s t i n a t e i m p u l s e s " t o a sense o f m o r a l i t y and order.

I f Crusoe's

c o n v e r s i o n of F r i d a y i l l u s t r a t e s a triumph o f

n u r t u r e over savage n a t u r e , then h i s c o n v e r s i o n a l s o p a r a l l e l s

Crusoe's

own ,experience i n l e a r n i n g to be, i n e f f e c t , a b e t t e r human b e i n g . L i k e w i s e , b e f o r e the i s l a n d e x p e r i e n c e , Crusoe i s e s s e n t i a l l y an i s o l a t e d f i g u r e among mankind:

h i s c o n t a c t w i t h men t a k e t h e s

of

t r a d i n g o r economic c o n t r a c t s , b u t we never admire Crusoe's

or

the p a r t he p l a y s i n these t r a d i n g i n c l i n a t i o n s .

form

actions

He l e a v e s h i s f a t h e r ' s

home to go t o s e a , thus r e f u s i n g t o take h i s l a w f u l and moral p l a c e in

the middle

station of l i f e .

in

o r d e r t o go on a s l a v i n g e x p e d i t i o n , a g a i n overthrowing

in

the middle

station of l i f e .

a f t e r twenty-eight

He l e a v e s h i s p r o s p e r i n g B r a z i l i a n

plantation

his position

However, when he r e t u r n s t o s o c i e t y ,

y e a r s o f i s o l a t i o n , h i s a c t i o n s a r e admirable.

The

r e a d e r , i n f a c t , has been prepared l o n g i n advance f o r t h i s s u c c e s s f u l r e i n t e g r a t i o n i n t o the s o c i a l o r d e r through w i t h mankind w h i l e s t i l l In

Crusoe's

growing

reinvolvement

on h i s i s l a n d .

h i s f i r s t encounter w i t h another E u r o p e a n — t h e S p a n i a r d he

and F r i d a y rescue from the c a n n i b a l s — C r u s o e terms o f a c o n t r a c t which a l l p a r t i e s w i l l

i s q u i c k t o s e t out the

f a i t h f u l l y abide by:

118

if

the S p a n i a r d i s t o b r i n g h i s f r i e n d s over from the mainland, they

must swear t o f o l l o w Crusoe's commands and to obey h i s d e c i s i o n s . T h i s demand i s q u i t e r e a s o n a b l e , s i n c e Crusoe does own h i s i s l a n d ( i n the Lockean sense) and s i n c e he i s o f f e r i n g a degree o f p r o t e c t i o n and s t a b i l i t y

(the i s l a n d

as peace i s m a i n t a i n e d ) .

can support a s i z e a b l e p o p u l a t i o n as long T h i s c o n t r a c t i s s e t out i n w r i t i n g even

though

Crusoe has run out o f i n k many y e a r s h e f o r e , and the s i g n i n g o f the document i n d i c a t e s t h a t Defoe's hero i s now p r e p a r e d t o become a l e a d e r o f men.

Crusoe i s a l l o w e d t o prove h i s l e a d e r s h i p

capabilities

l a t e r when he poses as the "governor" o f h i s i s l a n d and l e a d s a s u c c e s s f u l counter-mutiny a g a i n s t the s a i l o r s - t u r n e d - p i r a t e s on the English ship.

Here, o f c o u r s e , Crusoe becomes a f o r c e f o r moral

o r d e r and s t a b i l i t y board s o c i e t y .

i n the l i m i t e d , and perhaps m i s c r o c o s m i c , s h i p -

Whereas the p i r a t e s have o v e r t u r n e d t h e i r

social

o b l i g a t i o n s by r e v o l t i n g a g a i n s t the r e p r e s e n t a t i v e o f moral law and o r d e r , the s h i p ' s c a p t a i n , Crusoe r e a f f i r m s the o r d e r l y

arrangement

of t h i s s o c i e t y by t r i u m p h i n g over the s i n f u l ways o f the m u t i n e e r s . Consequently, when he r e t u r n s t o Europe, he i s given the l e a d e r s h i p o f the group o f men w i t h whom he t r a v e l s through the Pyrenees, and a t the end o f the book, he d u t i f u l l y

reassumes t h a t p r o p e r p l a c e i n

s o c i e t y which he overthrew a t the b e g i n n i n g o f h i s adventures. moral of the s t o r y i s t h a t Crusoe has l e a r n e d t o l i v e a l i f e

The

based

on the " r i g h t s p r i n c i p l e s o f s o c i a l o r d e r and s t a b i l i t y ; he has gained, i n o t h e r words, a p r o p e r m o r a l i t y and s e l f - k n o w l e d g e . . A l a r g e r system o f p a r a l l e l s and c o n t r a s t s i n Crusoe's a c t i o n s i n d i c a t e s t h a t perhaps Defoe's n o v e l i s c a r e f u l l y s t r u c t u r e d t o show

119

the development of Crusoe into this paradigm of the good s o c i a l being who always affirms through his actions the natural and s o c i a l order. Again, the bases of s o c i a l action reside i n a knowledge of what i s e t h i c a l l y r i g h t , and this sense of right and wrong i s inherent in the conversion experience i n the book.

An awareness of moral goodness

proceeds d i r e c t l y from the repentance of Crusoe, and Defoe's novel i s structured so as to indicate the b i r t h of a moral v i s i o n as i t springs from Crusoe's acceptance of C h r i s t i a n i t y . As we have seen, upon h i s acceptance of God, Christ, and the rest of the Christian doctrine, Crusoe begins to seriously consider h i s position i n r e l a t i o n to God and the Christian cosmos.

He points out

that, for the f i r s t time since his prayers during the storm o f f H u l l , he contemplates his s i n f u l nature and thinks of repenting.

The

difference i s , of course, that during the e a r l i e r storm, Crusoe was prompted by fear of drowning, while on his i s l a n d he i s prompted by the t e r r i f y i n g dream-vision, but at the same time, perhaps r e a l i z e s that he i s reaching out f o r something he"has lacked before: he i s , i n other words, working toward a higher v i s i o n — a sBlf-knowledge.

Thus,

he states that previously he "was merely thoughtless of a God or a Providence; acted l i k e a meer brute from the principles of Nature, and by the dictates of common sense only, and indeed hardly that" (I, 9 7 ) . This passage signals the course of Crusoe's l a t e r s p i r i t u a l development:

"common sense," or reason, i s not enough

i f one wants to understand as completely as possible the workings of the universe, the purpose of events i n this world, and the place of the i n d i v i d u a l i n God's design.

Crusoe, i n f a c t , finds that f a i t h bolsters

h i s powers of reasoning, and he begins to discern patterns i n his own

120

l i f e which, of course, are reflected i n the patterns of the novel. In the f i r s t place, Crusoe notes "a strange concurrence of days in the various providences which b e f e l l " him. He notes i n quick succession:that the same date he l e f t his father's house, he was taken by Moorish p i r a t e s ; he escaped from Sallee on the same date that, some time before, he got away from the sinking ship i n Yarmouth Roads; on his birthday he was stranded on his desert island.

He points

out, r e f e r r i n g to this l a t t e r concurrence of dates, "...my wicked l i f e and my s o l i t a r y l i f e began both on a day" (I, 147). Just as he begins noting this curious pattern of s i g n i f i c a n t dates i n his l i f e his

(a pattern which indicates a Providential design i n -

l i f e ) , Crusoe also begins ordering his pattern of l i v i n g .

For

example, he solemnly observes the anniversary of h i s shipwreck on the i s l a n d , fasting and meditating for an entire day each year. his

Since

repentance, Crusoe has also used this day, among others, to reason

out the existence of God and to meditate on the design and pattern of Providential care i n h i s l i f e .

And he can announce on the fourth

anniversary of his i s o l a t i o n , that "by a constant study and serious application of the Word of God, and by the assistances of His grace, I gained a different knowledge from what I had before.

I entertained

d i f f e r e n t notions of things" (I, 142). Crusoe's knowledge, gained from experience, i s partly the a b i l i t y to "sum and square" everything, and to act r a t i o n a l l y where before he would have acted f o o l i s h l y . But, to Defoe and to Crusoe, reason alone i s a weak and f a l t e r i n g guide, whereas reason buttressed by the strong p r i n c i p l e s of C h r i s t i a n f a i t h provides the suremeans to true knowledge.

In speaking of religious

conviction, Defoe himself writes, "It i s Religion alone, which i s the

121

bond of V i r t u e i n the World; the Awe

o f a D i v i n e Power, and a Sense o f

the Majesty and Vengeance of Heaven, b e i n g - a l o n e a b l e to r e s t r a i n

the

34 V i c e s and L u s t s o f Men."

B e g i n n i n g w i t h a t r u e repentance,

r e a l i z e s t h a t h i s major s i n was which had m e r c i f u l l y put me I might or

to r e j e c t

Crusoe

"the v o i c e o f P r o v i d e n c e ,

i n a p o s t u r e or s t a t i o n o f l i f e

wherein

have been happy and easy; but I would n e i t h e r see i t m y s e l f ,

l e a r n to know the b l e s s i n g o f i t from my

then prays s i n c e r e l y f o r the f i r s t

p a r e n t s " ( I , 100).

time i n many y e a r s , and

He

soon

a f t e r i s a b l e t o reason out h i s p l a c e i n the d i v i n e scheme: What i s t h i s e a r t h and sea, o f which I have seen so much? whence i s i t produced? And what am I , and a l l the o t h e r c r e a t u r e s , w i l d and tame, human and b r u t a l , whence are we? Sure we are a l l made by some s e c r e t Power, who formed the e a r t h and sea, the a i r and sky. And who i s t h a t ? Then i t f o l l o w e d most n a t u r a l l y , I t i s God t h a t has made i t a l l . W e l l , but then i t came on s t r a n g e l y , i f God has made a l l these t h i n g s , He guides and governs them a l l , and a l l t h i n g s that concern them; f o r the Power t h a t c o u l d make a l l t h i n g s , must c e r t a i n l y have power t o guide and d i r e c t them. I f so, n o t h i n g can happen i n the great c i r c u i t of His works, e i t h e r without H i s knowledge o r appointment. And i f n o t h i n g happens w i t h o u t H i s knowledge, He knows t h a t I am h e r e , and am i n t h i s d r e a d f u l c o n d i t i o n . And i f n o t h i n g happens w i t h o u t H i s appointment, He has a p p o i n t e d a l l t h i s to b e f a l l me. ( I , 101-102) T h i s , then, i s a l a r g e p a r t o f Crusoe's new-found knowledge, an awareness of for

P r o v i d e n c e and a j u s t i f i c a t i o n o f f a i t h through reason. Crusoe's

thought

The

catalyst

i s the d r e a m - v i s i o n which so t e r r i f i e d him, so t h a t

Defoe seems to be i n d i c a t i n g that some s o r t o f r e v e l a t i o n must take p l a c e b e f o r e reason can j u s t i f y

the f o u n d a t i o n s of f a i t h .

On the o t h e r hand,

t h e r e were two ways to f a i t h i n God i n the e i g h t e e n t h c e n t u r y — o n e

by

r e v e l a t i o n and one through r e a s o n — a n d

i t seems t h a t Crusoe

uses

b o t h i n c o n j u n c t i o n w i t h one another.

However, when he l a t e r converts

122

F r i d a y t o C h r i s t i a n i t y , Crusoe

draws a d i s t i n c t i o n between reason

and

revelation: . . . i t was a testimony to me how the mere n o t i o n s of n a t u r e , though they w i l l guide r e a s o n a b l e c r e a t u r e s t o the knowledge of a God, and of a worship or homage due to the supreme b e i n g o f God, as the consequence o f our n a t u r e , y e t n o t h i n g but D i v i n e r e v e l a t i o n can form the knowledge of Jesus C h r i s t and o f a redemption purchased f o r us, o f a Mediator of the new convenant, and o f an I n t e r c e s s o r at the f o o t s t o o l of God's throne. (I., Thus, a g e n e r a l knowledge of God

244)

can be o b t a i n e d through the p r i n c i p l e s

of n a t u r e and r e a s o n , but p a r t i c u l a r knowledge of Jesus C h r i s t must come through r e v e l a t i o n o r n u r t u r e .

With F r i d a y , Crusoe must bear

the white man's burden. We

have p r e v i o u s l y n o t e d t h a t , a f t e r Crusoe's

repentance,

he

expands b o t h h i s e x p l o r a t i o n and h i s c o n t r o l over the n a t u r a l environment. continually.

He l e a r n s the seasons, o r d e r s h i s p r o j e c t s , and He dominates the i s l a n d i n a s t r i c t l y

orderly

p r o d u c i n g n e i t h e r too much nor too l i t t l e

of what he needs.

w e l l w i t h i n Crusoe's power to overproduce

the commodities

to h i s e x i s t e n c e .

dominating h i s environment we

fashion, It i s

essential

He c o u l d , f o r example, grow a c r e s o f r i c e ,

and c o r n , but most of i t would be s u r p l u s and waste.

meditates

barley,

He would be

f o r no r e a l reason whatsoever,

and

thus

can assume t h a t he has l e a r n e d what h i s p l a c e i s i n the n a t u r a l o r d e r

and, i n consequence,

adheres

enjoy j u s t as much as we Crusoe

to the bounds s e t by n a t u r e :

can use, and no more" ( I , 143).

"...we Thus,

comes t o v a l u e t h i n g s o n l y as they are u s e f u l t o him.

In o t h e r

words, he l e a r n s to temper h i s a c q u i s i t i v e n e s s , to keep i t w i t h i n natural

the

(and moral) bounds, and a g a i n , the triumph over h i s a n i m a l ,

"brute" nature i s

complete.

123

Another p a t t e r n which would i n d i c a t e a new and

a new

means of knowledge f o r Crusoe, would be

v i s i o n s he n a r r a t e s .

basis for action the s e r i e s of dream-

S i g n i f i c a n t l y , these v i s i o n s b e g i n only w i t h

one

that brings

and

sabbath-keeping were merely m a t t e r s of form, he had no

or p a i d no

on h i s repentance.

a t t e n t i o n to them.

the dream p a t t e r n pays great

Previously, while his

the

such v i s i o n s , However,

takes i t s s i g n i f i c a n c e from the f a c t t h a t

Crusoe

a t t e n t i o n to h i s s e p a r a t e dreams, knowing ( a f t e r h i s

l i s t e n i n g to t h i s P r o v i d e n t i a l v o i c e , he

f u t u r e , and

g r a n t e d him

by

t o guide h i s a c t i o n s a c c o r d i n g

communicates.

i s a b l e to see

to the knowledge

t a k i n g a r a t h e r s t r a n g e view of the

dream-

i n Robinson Crusoe, s t a t e s that i n f a c t dreams e x i s t on

s i d e s of Crusoe's c o n v e r s i o n :

pattern

e p i s o d e of the p l o t . " F r i d a y and

t a l k i n g to God).

This

dream-

i s r e p e a t e d on e i t h e r s i d e , so to speak, of

c e n t r a l confrontation—^before And

both

"Superimposed on t h i s form i s a r e l a t e d

p a t t e r n of dreams ( i s o l a t e d man conversion

into

God's v o i c e .

Frank E l l i s , pattern

prayers

At l e a s t , none are n a r r a t e d .

c o n v e r s i o n ) they are one means through which P r o v i d e n c e Thus, by

the

and

a f t e r , t h a t i s t o say,

further, E l l i s

of Robinson Crusoe h i m s e l f

points

out,

the c e n t r a l

"the

are preceded and

the

conversion

of

foreshadowed

3 '5 by one

dream sequences." o f the

i n t o my

Thus, Crusoe dreams one n i g h t

"savages" to be h i s s e r v a n t ,

little

t h i c k grove, b e f o r e

Crusoe dreams he w i l l

show h i m s e l f

my

cannibals

p r o j e c t w i l l be

to get

to hide

himself."

to the savage, whereupon the become h i s s e r v a n t

a servant,

i s consequently overcome by

get

would come "running

fortification,

w i l l p r o s t r a t e h i m s e l f before:Crusoe and Crusoe's new

that a man

t h a t he w i l l

latter

( I , 220-221).

and h i s f e a r of

the knowledge granted him

the by

124

P r o v i d e n c e t h a t he w i l l be s u c c e s s f u l i n t h i s v e n t u r e . The g e n e r a l importance o f the dream p a t t e r n i s t h a t i t i n d i c a t e s t h a t Crusoe's i n n e r b e i n g — h i s

t h o u g h t - p r o c e s s e s and h i s s p i r i t u a l

r a t i o n a l c h a r a c t e r — i s s l o w l y opening out i n t o the book and an e v e r g r e a t e r importance to the n a r r a t i v e i t s e l f . of t h i s is

The

assuming

importance

"blooming" of Crusoe's i n n e r b e i n g i s t o i n d i c a t e t h a t

coming

and

to a g r e a t e r knowledge o f h i m s e l f , and t h a t t h i s

he

knowledge—

a r e s u l t o f h i s e x p e r i e n c e — i s b e i n g f e d back i n t o h i s e x p e r i e n c e through an i n t e r a c t i o n w i t h the environment. and s t r e t c h i n g o f the time sequence what we

Thus, the c o l l a p s i n g

throughout Robinson Crusoe s e r v e s

c o u l d term a thematic f u n c t i o n .

We

can assume, g i v e n the

e x i s t e n c e of an obvious p a r a l l e l i n g and c o n t r a s t i n g o f events i n Defoe's n o v e l , t h a t our author c a r e f u l l y g r a d u a l awakening knowledge.

chooses h i s events t o show Crusoe's

to these s p i r i t u a l r e a l i t i e s

and t o a s e l f -

The s t r e t c h i n g o f a s i n g l e day's events i n t o s e v e r a l pages,

o r the c o l l a p s e of s e v e r a l weeks i n t o a s i n g l e sentence, would

indicate

p a r a l l e l s between Crusoe's a c q u i s i t i o n " o f knowledge and h i s a c q u i s i t i o n of goods and p r o p e r t y through a focus on important events and important m e d i t a t i o n s .

The f a i r l y

d e t a i l e d d e s c r i p t i o n s of v a r i o u s

p r o j e c t s such as the making of p o t s , f u r n i t u r e , f o r t i f i c a t i o n s , and the growing and h a r v e s t i n g of c r o p s , i l l u s t r a t e

Crusoe's d i l i g e n c e ,

patience,

prudence, and an a p p l i c a t i o n of reason i n o r d e r t o g a i n c o n t r o l over the n a t u r a l environment.

His e x p l o r a t i o n s of the i s l a n d " a n d , i n p a r t i c u l a r ,

the d i s c o v e r i e s he makes of f e r t i l e on, s e r v e the purpose of showing how

l a n d , grapes, t o r t o i s e s , and so Crusoe extends h i s d i l i g e n t

application,

h i s human power of reason, and h i s p r o p e r t y i n t o the s t a t e o f n a t u r e .

125

In c o n j u n c t i o n with, the n a r r a t i o n o f c e r t a i n o f these p r o j e c t s , Crusoe's m e d i t a t i o n s

and r e f l e c t i o n s e x i s t i n a k i n d of t i m e l e s s

w o r l d , y e t at the same time p a r a l l e l h i s conquest environment.

o f the n a t u r a l

Thus, as Crusoe i n d i c a t e s i n s e v e r a l o f the more m e d i t a t i v e

passages of the book, the " s e c r e t h i n t s and n o t i c e s " of working i n c o n j u n c t i o n w i t h h i s reason

Providence,

and p r o v i n g to him

the

" j u s t n e s s of t h i s r e a s o n , " form a s t r o n g bond between h i s growing s p i r i t u a l and reason

r a t i o n a l b e i n g and h i s a p p l i c a t i o n o f moral knowledge

to a p r a c t i c a l and u t i l i t a r i a n

T h i s major thematic

conquest

be seen, triumph

i n one

sense,

of reason and

as a thematic

He

can

d e v i c e which i n d i c a t e s the First,

of course,

we

g i v e s n o t i c e to Crusoe t h a t he w i l l o b t a i n

Crusoe, because of h i s new

to t h i s P r o v i d e n t i a l dream and and

its fruition

Friday himself

f a i t h i n Crusoe's mind.

have seen t h a t Providence a servant.

of the environment.

t h r u s t of the n a r r a t i v e achieves

w i t h the coming of F r i d a y to Crusoe's i s l a n d .

"notions of t h i n g s , " pays heed

d e c i d e s , a f t e r many " s e c r e t d i s p u t e s "

" g r e a t p e r p l e x i t i e s , " to prepare

to capture one

of the savages.

s e t s h i m s e l f "upon the s c o u t , as o f t e n as p o s s i b l e " ( I , 222),

soon h i s d i l i g e n c e i s rewarded.

to save" one

( I , 225), he o b t a i n s F r i d a y .

u s e f u l to both Crusoe and

the n a r r a t i v e i t s e l f .

u t i l i t a r i a n v a l u e as a s e r v a n t

and

A f t e r a f i g h t w i t h the c a n n i b a l s ,

i n which he i s " c a l l e d p l a i n l y by Providence creature's l i f e "

and

"poor

F r i d a y then becomes He has

a certain

to Crusoe, but at the same time,

a l l o w s Crusoe to become a m i s s i o n a r y .

he

Crusoe c o n v e r t s F r i d a y , and

w i t h p a r t i c u l a r r e f e r e n c e to the theme of Crusoe's moral growth, t h i s s o l i d i f i e s and i l l u s t r a t e s our hero's

f a i t h and knowledge.

Again,

the n a r r a t i v e f o c u s s e s on the d i a l o g u e s through which Crusoe c o n v e r t s

126

h i s s e r v a n t to a C h r i s t i a n and c i v i l i z e d m o r a l i t y , i n d i c a t i n g

the path

t h a t i s open from m e d i t a t i o n t o a c t i o n throughout

Therefore,

the n o v e l .

F r i d a y i s of p r a c t i c a l use t o Crusoe, and he i s o f moral and thematic use

to the n a r r a t i v e , s i n c e once a g a i n reason

and f a i t h triumph

over

a savage n a t u r e . There i s one f i n a l important indicates

p a t t e r n i n Defoe's n o v e l which

the growth o f p r a c t i c a l knowledge, reason, and f i n a l l y ,

the r e a l i z a t i o n t h a t a c q u i s i t i o n s h o u l d be tempered by reason.

Three

times s h i p s come to Crusoe's i s l a n d , and each o f these i n c i d e n t s i s used by Defoe to i l l u s t r a t e c e r t a i n c h a r a c t e r t r a i t s i n Robinson Crusoe which have developed narrative.

The f i r s t

through

the course o f the p r e c e d i n g

i n c i d e n t i s t h a t o f the shipwreck which p l a c e s

Crusoe i n a s t a t e o f n a t u r e and which c o n c r e t e l y embodies the dominant n a t u r e o f Crusoe h i m s e l f up t o t h a t p o i n t i n the n a r r a t i v e . the shipwreck i s o b v i o u s l y punishment by Providence seen t o be moral and s o c i a l s i n s : nature

f o r what we have

Crusoe's o v e r r e a c h i n g and b e s t i a l

r e s u l t s i n d i v i n e l y - s e n t punishment as the P r o v i d e n t i a l p a t t e r n

once again triumphs.

He i s p l a c e d i n a s t a t e o f n a t u r e which i s

emblematic d f h i s own n a t u r e . morally isolated he

First,

He i s c o n t r o l l e d by p a s s i o n and

from h i s own s p e c i e s through h i s e a r l y

adventures;

i s c o n t r o l l e d by p a s s i o n and p h y s i c a l l y i s o l a t e d from h i s own s p e c i e s

when he i s shipwrecked

on t h e i s l a n d .

e v o l v e r a t i o n a l p a t t e r n s o f thought a creature of i n s t i n c t first

staip.

plunders

Though he begins

slowly to

i n h i s mind, he i s s t i l l

as i s i l l u s t r a t e d

largely

i n h i s plundering of t h i s

He does b e i n g to c o o r d i n a t e h i s p l a n s and " g e s t u r e s , " b u t

the s h i p of e v e r y t h i n g he can take o f f , whether i t i s u s e f u l

or useless.

And, i n h i s h a s t e and f o l l y , he n e a r l y o v e r t u r n s one r a f t -

127

l o a d , w h i l e a t another time he a c c i d e n t a l l y dumps a l o a d o f u s e l e s s and heavy ironwork i n t o the r i v e r . is

u s e l e s s g o l d , b u t not without

He even h a u l s o f f what he knows

a d d r e s s i n g to the money h i s famous

apostrophe which C o l e r i d g e and o t h e r s have found t o be a m a s t e r p i e c e o f irony: I s m i l e d t o myself a t the s i g h t o f t h i s money. "0 drug!" s a i d I a l o u d , "what a r t thou good f o r ? Thou are n o t worth t o me, no, not the t a k i n g o f f o f the ground; one o f those k n i v e s i s worth a l l t h i s heap. I have no manner o f use f o r thee; even remain where thou a r t , and go t o t h e bottom as a c r e a t u r e whose l i f e i s n o t worth s a v i n g . " However, upon second thoughts, I took i t away.... ( I , 62) C e r t a i n l y t h i s passage

c o u l d be i r o n i c , s i n c e at the same time

Crusoe

has taken away o t h e r u s e l e s s i t e m s , but i t c o u l d a l s o i l l u s t r a t e the first

glimmerings

o f prudence

i n Crusoe's mind.

I f he i s e v e r r e s c u e d

from h i s i s l a n d , the g o l d w i l l c e r t a i n l y be u s e f u l , and i t i s t h i s of

r e a s o n i n g that c o n t r o l s h i s thoughts when the second s h i p i s

wrecked o f f h i s i s l a n d y e a r s

later.

When t h i s second s h i p runs aground, to

line

Crusoe

takes h i s canoe out

i t and f i n d s "very l i t t l e . . . t h a t was o f any use to me," except f o r

s e v e r a l chests o f money ( I , 214). A g a i n he r e f l e c t s t h a t " f o r as t o the money, I had no manner of o c c a s i o n f o r i t ;

'twas t o me as the d i r t

under

my f e e t ; and I would have g i v e n i t a l l f o r t h r e e o r f o u r p a i r o f E n g l i s h shoes

and s t o c k i n g s , which were t h i n g s I g r e a t l y wanted, but had n o t

had on my f e e t now f o r many y e a r s . "

Crusoe

takes the money o f f t h e

s h i p , b u t t h i s time g i v e s h i s r e a s o n : W e l l , however, I lugged t h i s money home t o my cave, and l a i d i t up, as I had done that b e f o r e which I brought from our own s h i p ; but i t was g r e a t p i t y , as I s a i d , t h a t the o t h e r p a r t o f t h i s s h i p had n o t come t o my s h a r e , f o r I am s a t i s f i e d I might have loaded my canoe s e v e r a l times over w i t h money, which, i f I had

128 ever escaped t o England, would have l a i n here s a f e enough t i l l I might have come a g a i n and f e t c h e d i t . (I, What the r e a d e r might have once seen as merely has now

become a prudent

a c t , f o r Crusoe

215)

greed and

stupidity

i s s a v i n g the money f o r when

he might need i t . A number o f y e a r s have e l a p s e d s i n c e Crusoe p l u n d e r e d

the

f i r s t wreck, and the change i n h i s b e h a v i o r as he takes t h i n g s from second wreck i s q u i t e e v i d e n t .

this

I n s t e a d of l a y i n g h i s hands on a n y t h i n g

t h a t i s l o o s e o r that he can detach, he i s v e r y j u d i c i o u s i n the items he a c q u i r e s .

He doesn't

take any m u s k e t s — h e a l r e a d y has

he takes the powder horn.

He

enough—but

takes some k e t t l e s and p o t s , and

a

g r i d i r o n , and i s l i k e w i s e very s e l e c t i v e i n what he takes from seachests.

Crusoe,

then, behaves as a r e a s o n a b l e man

would.

He knows

what he needs from the s h i p , h i s e x p e r i e n c e and reason h a v i n g him

even o f c e r t a i n v e n t u r e s , Crusoe ability

and v a l u e of c e r t a i n o b j e c t s , and shows again a new

to handle h i m s e l f i n c e r t a i n s i t u a t i o n s .

the p o i n t home, Defoe f i l l s

past l i f e

peaceably

knowledge i n h i s And,

as i f t o d r i v e

the f o l l o w i n g pages of the n a r r a t i v e w i t h

another o f those l o n g m e d i t a t i v e passages wherein

to

taught

the u s e f u l n e s s o f c e r t a i n items and the u s e l e s s n e s s of o t h e r s .

T h e r e f o r e , i n j u d g i n g the u t i l i t y

his

the

Crusoe

reflects

on

of s i n and the j o y s he would have found i n s t a y i n g

i n the middle

s t a t i o n o f l i f e , a l l o w i n g reason and m o r a l i t y

guide him i n h i s a c q u i s i t i o n o f m a t e r i a l wealth and w e l l - b e i n g .

F u r t h e r , i n c a l l i n g c h i m s e l f a "memento to those who the g e n e r a l plague of m a n k i n d " — i . e . ,

are touched w i t h

the s i n of p r i d e —

Crusoe

again shows an awareness of the e x i s t e n c e of an e s s e n t i a l l y

moral

u n i v e r s e wherein

station

in

life

man

must p e a c e f u l l y s e t t l e i n t o h i s proper

and temper h i s a s p i r a t i o n s and a c q u i s i t i v e n e s s w i t h both

faith

129

and

reason.

himself,

Crusoe, h e r e , i s a f a r cry from the Crusoe who

in his f i r s t

o f N a t u r e " and

days on

the i s l a n d , sunk i n t o a "meer s t a t e

governed o n l y by

p o s i t i o n or n a t u r e , or by r a t i o n a l a p p l i c a t i o n he

any

can

found

" f e a r and

d e s i r e , " unaware of h i s

r e a l i z a t i o n t h a t through reason

raise himself

out

true

and

of h i s b e s t i a l mental

and p h y s i c a l s t a t e of n a t u r e . F i n a l l y , w i t h the

coming of the t h i r d s h i p to the i s l a n d ,

Crusoe i s ready to take complete c o n t r o l of the s i t u a t i o n and a l e a d e r of men In p l a n n i n g

and

a f o r c e f o r order

a counter-strategy

of the s h i p , Crusoe again to reason and

take

and

that leads

stability

in society.

to a s u c c e s s f u l

recapture

i l l u s t r a t e s through h i s a c t i o n s h i s

c o n t r o l , and

to see

end.

"most

I f Crusoe i s to g i v e h i s a i d i n r e c a p t u r i n g

the c a p t a i n must submit to two

ability

the event through to the

For example, he makes h i s demands to the E n g l i s h c a p t a i n reasonable."

to become

the

ship,

conditions:

1. That w h i l e you s t a y on t h i s i s l a n d w i t h me, you w i l l not p r e t e n d t o any a u t h o r i t y h e r e ; and i f I put arms i n t o your hands, you w i l l upon a l l o c c a s i o n s g i v e them up to me and do no p r e j u d i c e to me or mine upon t h i s i s l a n d , and i n the meantime, be governed by my o r d e r s . 2. That i f the s h i p i s or may be recovered, you w i l l c a r r y me and my man to England, passage f r e e . ( I , 285-86) A s o c i a l c o n t r a c t i s formed t h a t i s both r e a s o n a b l e and

just.

The

c a p t a i n o f f e r s Crusoe command :of h i s s h i p , but

Crusoe j u d i c i o u s l y

refuses.

contract i s a

What f o l l o w s the arrangement of t h i s

s t r i n g of v i c t o r i e s which end w i t h the r e c a p t u r e s a f e passage of Crusoe and

F r i d a y back to England.

has

a l l o w e d Crusoe to a c h i e v e ,

own

salvation:

through d i l i g e n c e and

through Crusoe's own

from the i s l a n d and

of the s h i p

e f f o r t s , he

and

In a l l , P r o v i d e n c e application, his

gains

a final

i s f u l l y i p r e p a r e d to reassume h i s j u s t and

deliverance proper

130

place i n society.

One

of Crusoe's l a s t

g i v e thanks t o t h a t P r o v i d e n c e

a c t i o n s on h i s i s l a n d i s to

which a i d e d him

in a l l his

"right"

actions: I f o r g o t not t o l i f t up my h e a r t i n t h a n k f u l n e s s to Heaven; and what h e a r t c o u l d f o r b e a r to b l e s s Him, who had not only i n a m i r a c u l o u s manner p r o v i d e d f o r one i n such a w i l d e r n e s s and i n such a d e s o l a t e c o n d i t i o n , but from whom every d e l i v e r a n c e must always be acknowledged to p r o c e e d . ( I , 305-06) And,

as a f i n a l n o t e , Crusoe r e a l i z e s the s i g n i f i c a n c e of

date of h i s d e p a r t u r e

from the

the

island:

And thus I l e f t the i s l a n d , the 19th of December, as I found by the s h i p s account, i n the y e a r 1686, a f t e r I had been upon i t e i g h t and twenty y e a r s , two months, and n i n e t e e n days, b e i n g d e l i v e r e d from t h i s second c a p t i v i t y the same day of the month t h a t I f i r s t made my escape i n the b a r c o - l o n g o , from among the Moors of S a l l e e ( I , 310-11)

W.'

S t r u c t u r e and

The his l i f e

suggestion

and

the stages

Dialectics

that' Crusoe i s f i n d i n g s i g n i f i c a n t p a t t e r n s i n

t h a t Defoe i s c a r e f u l l y

s t r u c t u r i n g h i s n a r r a t i v e to show

of Crusoe's development p o i n t s to the p o s s i b i l i t y ,

of a shaping

v i s i o n at work throughout the e n t i r e n a r r a t i v e , and f u r t h e r ,

t h a t each episode In the p r e v i o u s

i s thematically significant i n this larger structure.

chapter

I i n d i c a t e d the p o s s i b i l i t y of t h r e e

l e v e l s i n Robinson Crusoe:

which i n c o r p o r a t e s the growth and

Now

the q u a l i t y of Crusoe's mental and

a structure

development of the main c h a r a c t e r

to u n i f y and p l a c e i n proper

economic themes of the book.

structural

the p a r a t a c t i c s t r u c t u r e , the p a t t e r n of

i n t e r a c t i o n between the r e l i g i o u s and economic themes, and

w h i c h serves

again,

t h a t we

p e r s p e c t i v e the moral have e x p l o r e d

and

s p i r i t u a l development and

and

and

defined i t s basis

131

i n the p h i l o s o p h y

of the p e r i o d , we

should be

more comprehensive s t r u c t u r e i n Defoe's On three

this

novel.

the most b a s i c l e v e l , Defoe's Robinson Crusoe d i v i d e s i n t o

units:

the p r e - i s l a n d s e c t i o n , the twenty-eight y e a r

on the i s l a n d , and Crusoe's own defined

able to d e s c r i b e

the r e t u r n to the c i v i l i z e d w o r l d .

nature—his

character

and

thoughts—is

sojourn

As we

have seen,

explored

and

i n each of these t h r e e s e c t i o n s , the e x p l o r a t i o n b e i n g

and more s i g n i f i c a n t

during

the i s l a n d p o r t i o n o f the s t o r y .

r e a s o n f o r t h i s s i g n i f i c a n c e i s t h a t , q u i t e simply,

The

the i s l a n d i s

Crusoe's p r o v i n g - g r o u n d ; i t i s here that he must develop and r e a l i z e a code of e t h i c s and peaceful

reentry

of r i g h t a c t i o n which w i l l

into society.

changes i n h i s c h a r a c t e r — h i s a l l h i s ; p r o j e c t s and

fully

facilitate

his

In t h i s sense, each of the major a c q u i s i t i o n of reason and

diary-keeping,

take him step

one

s t a t e of n a t u r e and

consequently one

civilized

I f the i s l a n d p o r t i o n i t s e l f

society.

deeper

step

faith—and

f u r t h e r from

c l o s e r to a recovery i s a major

of

transitional

scene, then i t i s c a r e f u l l y connected w i t h the n a r r a t i v e s e c t i o n s e i t h e r s i d e through Defoe's use

of s p e c i f i c f i c t i o n a l

the

devices.

on

In

f a c t , Defoe i s c a r e f u l to p r e p a r e h i s reader f o r each stage i n Crusoe's development through b o t h d r a m a t i c b u i l d - u p s t r a n s i t i o n a l scenes and

devices.

attempt to i n d i c a t e the

c l o s e r e l a t i o n s h i p s between Crusoe's

developing show how

character

and

both character

r e s o l u t i o n of the First, essentially

Our

last

to c l i m a c t i c scenes

and

s e c t i o n , then, w i l l be

the dramatic s t r u c t u r e of the n o v e l , and and

an

to

s t r u c t u r e consequently work toward a

trade-morality

paradox.

each stage of Crusoe's development, b e g i n n i n g w i t h h i s

"brutish" early l i f e ,

i s c a r e f u l l y defined

and

dramatically

132

rendered b e f o r e any move i s made to the next stage (though i n many cases Defoe

does p r e f i g u r e f u t u r e developments).

Thus, i n the opening

pages of the book, Crusoe's f a t h e r c a r e f u l l y d e s c r i b e s the middle state i n l i f e , e a r l i e s t years.

and i n so doing he d e f i n e s the q u a l i t y o f Crusoe's Defoe's h e r o grows up i n an environment

o f ease,

s t a b i l i t y , s e c u r i t y , and comparative t r a n q u i l i t y ; he does not have much to

worry

about, and h i s f u t u r e has been p r e t t y w e l l mapped out f o r him.

But Crusoe i s q u i c k to p o i n t out t h a t he i s " f i l l e d

very e a r l y with

r a m b l i n g t h o u g h t s " ( I , 2 ) , and so b e g i n s l a y i n g the groundwork f o r a revolt

against h i s father.

The r e v o l t

comes about,

characteristically,

through a spur-of-the-moment d e c i s i o n to s h i p out w i t h a f r i e n d , in

r e v o l t i n g a g a i n s t the v a l u e s o f r a t i o n a l i t y

and

(implied i n h i s father's

arguments) and a concomitant s e c u r i t y and s t a b i l i t y ,

Crusoe embraces

a s e t o f c o u n t e r - v a l u e s — p a s s i o n , i n c l i n a t i o n , and a d e s i r e to r i s e q u i c k l y i n the w o r l d . illustrated follow. of

These

c o u n t e r - v a l u e s are e x e m p l i f i e d

i n the s e r i e s of schemes and t r a d i n g adventures

and which

At the same time, the moral framework and the c o r r e c t v a l u e s

Crusoe's

f a t h e r c o n t i n u a l l y impose themselves throughout

these

e a r l y adventures, b o t h through the n a r r a t o r ' s l i t e r a r y a n a l o g i e s t o the

Genesis s t o r y , the p r o d i g a l son, and Jonah, and through the

i n t r u s i o n s of P r o v i d e n c e i n t o young Crusoe's l i f e .

In t h i s manner, the

d i a l e c t i c between Crusoe's t r a d i n g schemes and a moral and ethos becomes o p e r a t i v e through the f i r s t

p o r t i o n o f the book.

The d i a l e c t i c i s n e a r l y r e s o l v e d f o r the f i r s t s e t t l e s on h i s B r a z i l i a n p l a n t a t i o n . of

In t h i s

the n a r r a t o r i n d i c a t e that the younger

i n t o the middle s t a t i o n o f l i f e .

Christian

time when Crusoe

c a s e , the m o r a l

reflections

Crusoe i s g r a v i t a t i n g back

But the c o u n t e r - i d e o l o g y proves

133

s u c c e s s f u l a g a i n , as Crusoe

d e c i d e d t o accompany h i s f r i e n d s on a s l a v i n g

e x p e d i t i o n , and once a g a i n the themes o f t r a d e and f o o l i s h n e s s themselves.

Crusoe's

s l a v i n g voyage proves

t r a n s i t i o n between the f i r s t

to be

the

assert

structural

two major s e c t i o n s o f the book.

r e a d e r i s i n v i t e d t o see as b a s i c a l l y an immoral venture

What the

("foolish

i n c l i n a t i o n s " coupled w i t h " r i s i n g f a s t e r than the n a t u r e o f the t h i n g allowed") ends i n d i s a s t e r f o r Crusoe, w i t h a l l of h i s former d e s t r o y e d ; he i s shipwrecked

security

and i s o l a t e d through an act of Providence

on a d e s e r t i s l a n d , and he must spend the next twenty-eight

years

d e v e l o p i n g h i s r a t i o n a l and moral b e i n g b e f o r e Providence w i l l

allow

him to r e t u r n to s o c i e t y . It

i s i n t e r e s t i n g to n o t e , at t h i s p o i n t , that b e f o r e each major

change i n h i s l i f e , stability middle

Crusoe

and s e c u r i t y .

s t a t i o n of l i f e

reaches a p o s i t i o n o f a c e r t a i n degree

The e q u i l i b r i u m and r e l a t i v e i m m o b i l i t y of the i s r e f u t e d by Crusoe

and m o b i l i t y o f the a d v e n t u r e r ' s l i f e . his

s u c c e s s f u l second voyage, he f e e l s

capabilities—a t h i r d voyage.

of

his story.

And

as he opts f o r the hazards i n s t e a d of q u i t t i n g

after

confident i n his trading

c o n f i d e n c e which i s s h a t t e r e d by P r o v i d e n c e

during h i s

F o r a t h i r d time, on h i s p l a n t a t i o n i n B r a z i l ,

r e a l i z e s a c e r t a i n degree f a s t approaches

of

of e q u i l i b r i u m .

Crusoe

As I have i n d i c a t e d ,

the middle s t a t i o n which he overthrew

he

at the b e g i n n i n g

But, the t r a d e nexus e n t e r s once a g a i n , and what c o n f i d e n c e

and sound p o s i t i o n

Crusoe had g a i n e d i s overthrown

by

Providence.

F i n a l l y , we have seen that on h i s i s l a n d , Crusoe manages to take a s t e p out of the n a t u r a l s t a t e by a p p l y i n g reason to h i s s i t u a t i o n . A g a i n , he r e a l i z e s a c e r t a i n s t a b i l i t y i n h i s s i t u a t i o n , and

this

134

stability

i s i n d i c a t e d i n s e v e r a l ways.

He works c a r e f u l l y a t

s e v e r a l rudimentary p r o j e c t s , he f o r t i f i e s h i m s e l f a g a i n s t any " w i l d c r e a t u r e s " or "savages," and f i n a l l y he even has time t o b e g i n a journal:

"And now i t was when I began t o keep a j o u r n a l of every

day's employment; f o r , i n d e e d , at f i r s t , not

I was i n too much h u r r y , and

only h u r r y as t o l a b o u r , but i n t o o much discomposure

and my j o u r n a l would have been f u l l

of mind;

o f many d u l l t h i n g s " ( I .

75).

A j o u r n a l , o f c o u r s e , i m p l i e s a c e r t a i n o r d e r i n g o f one's

life

and thoughts, and as Crusoe p o i n t s o u t , i t i s o n l y a f t e r he has r a t i o n a l l y mastered h i s thoughts, t h a t he can b e g i n t h i s p a r t i c u l a r Among o t h e r t h i n g s , then, Crusoe's J o u r n a l t r a c e s h i s development a p o i n t of r e l a t i v e

c o n f i d e n c e and e q u i l i b r i u m .

s t a g e " o f our hero's development

account.

up t o

Thus, the " r e a s o n -

i s c a r e f u l l y rendered by Defoe b e f o r e

he b e g i n s h i s dramatic b u i l d - u p t o Crusoe's repentance, when the sure ground

Crusoe f e l t h i m s e l f t o be on i s shaken

first

by a storm and an

earthquake, and then by i l l n e s s and a v i s i o n of God's The

punishment.

s o c i a l and t h e m a t i c i m p l i c a t i o n s o f t h i s s t r u c t u r e o f

e q u i l i b r i u m and u n d e r c u t t i n g are t h a t Crusoe, i n each case, has somehow f a i l e d

t o become a complete man.

adventures he opposes

Throughout

his pre-island

r a t i o n a l and moral v a l u e s i n b a s i n g h i s

a c t i o n s on d e s i r e and i n c l i n a t i o n .

Because o f h i s o p p o s i t i o n to

c o r r e c t v a l u e s he i s j u s t l y punished by P r o v i d e n c e .

And when

Crusoe a c h i e v e s , through r a t i o n a l b e h a v i o r , a c e r t a i n e q u i l i b r i u m on his

i s l a n d , Defoe i m p l i e s t h a t reason a l o n e i s i n s u f f i c i e n t ;

not

complete man's knowledge.

Thus, Defoe

i t does

structures h i s n a r r a t i v e to

i n d i c a t e , on the one hand, t h e incompleteness o f each o f t h e stages Crusoe r e a c h e s , and on the o t h e r hand, the a b s o l u t e n e c e s s i t y o f a

135

sense o f C h r i s t i a n moral p r i n c i p l e s i n a c h i e v i n g a b a l a n c e d self-knowledge. to

and r a t i o n a l

Once Crusoe has gained t h i s knowledge, he i s ready

make h i s slow and p a i n s t a k i n g way back i n t o human s o c i e t y . A g a i n , Defoe g i v e s us a slow and dramatic b u i l d - u p t o Crusoe's

f i n a l a p o t h e o s i s — h i s e n t r y i n t o the proper s t a t i o n o f l i f e society.

A f t e r Crusoe's

repentance,

in civilized

Defoe allows p l e n t y o f time f o r h i s

p r o t a g o n i s t t o d i s c o v e r and e x p l o r e the p r i n c i p l e s and v a l u e s o f C h r i s t i a n f a i t h , c a r e f u l l y p r e p a r i n g him, through m e d i t a t i o n s and a c t i o n s , f o r h i s e v e n t u a l rescue from the i s l a n d .

"Thus," as

E.M.W. T i l l y a r d p o i n t s out, "Crusoe l e a r n t t o cope w i t h and w i t h a l i f e now devoid o f v i o l e n t a d i f f e r e n t matter second

solitude

t u r n s and s u r p r i s e s .

from coping w i t h s o c i e t y and i t s ways.

a p t i t u d e he must be educated.

It i s this

But t h a t i s And t o t h a t

f u r t h e r e d u c a t i o n and

the use t o which Crusoe puts i t t h a t i s the theme of the second

half

36 of

the book." In

a manner o f s p e a k i n g , the p a t t e r n Crusoe f o l l o w s i n

r e d i s c o v e r i n g human s o c i e t y i s roughly analogous own development up t o t h i s "half-way"

t o the p a t t e r n o f h i s

p o i n t i n the n o v e l .

has p r o g r e s s e d from the "meer S t a t e o f Nature"

through

Crusoe

reason t o

C h r i s t i a n f a i t h , and t h e p a t t e r n he f o l l o w s i n r e d i s c o v e r i n g mankind proceeds

from a d i s c o v e r y o f t h e c a n n i b a l s , or " n a t u r a l men,"

a rescue o f F r i d a y — w h o i s shown t o be a f a i r l y F r i d a y ' s f a t h e r and t h e S p a n i a r d , and f i n a l l y of

both reason and f a i t h ,

the E n g l i s h c a p t a i n .

through

r a t i o n a l human—then

to a meeting w i t h a man And j u s t as he gets

more and more o f h i s i s l a n d i n t o h i s p o s s e s s i o n , so he g r a d u a l l y gets more and more o f humanity t o s e r v e him.

In a l l t h i s he i s , o f course,

a j u s t r u l e r and l e a d e r , s i n c e he now bases h i s a c t i o n s and s o c i a l c o n t r a c t s

136

on the p r i n c i p l e s

o f reason and f a i t h he has l e a r n e d i n h i s

When, f o r example, he has t h r e e men

working

solitude.

f o r him on h i s i s l a n d ,

he makes t h i s "merry r e f l e c t i o n : " My i s l a n d was now p e o p l e d , and I thought m y s e l f v e r y r i c h i n s u b j e c t s ; and i t was a merry r e f l e c t i o n , which I f r e q u e n t l y made, how l i k e a k i n g I looked. F i r s t o f a l l , the whole country was my own mere p r o p e r t y , so t h a t I lad an undoubted r i g h t of dominion. . Secondly, my people were p e r f e c t l y s u b j e c t e d . I was a b s o l u t e l o r d and l a w g i v e r ; they a l l owed t h e i r l i v e s t o me, and were ready to l a y down t h e i r l i v e s , i f t h e r e had been o c c a s i o n of i t , f o r me. I t was remarkable, too, we had but t h r e e s u b j e c t s , and they were of t h r e e different religions. My man F r i d a y was a P r o t e s t a n t , h i s f a t h e r was a Pagan and a c a n n i b a l , and the S p a n i a r d was a Papist. However, I a l l o w e d l i b e r t y of c o n s c i e n c e throughout my dominions. ( I , 269) Crusoe, who can now

once r e v e l l e d

i n h i s s o c i e t y of c a t s , a dog, and a p a r r o t ,

take a g r e a t d e a l more p r i d e i n h i s a b i l i t y

as a j u s t

ruler

of t h i s somewhat i n f o r m a l s o c i e t y o f humans. There are two signal

important t r a n s i t i o n a l scenes which d r a m a t i c a l l y

the b e g i n n i n g o f t h i s r e c o v e r y of human s o c i e t y .

the d i s c o v e r y of a s i n g l e Crusoe

footprint

i n t o great consternation.

t o take i n t o

first is

on the beach which a t f i r s t

throws

However, as we have seen, a f t e r much

r e f l e c t i o n and m e d i t a t i o n , Crusoe a l t e r s h i s l i f e - s t y l e island

The

account t h i s p r e v i o u s l y unforeseen

on the circumstance

( i . e . , the p o s s i b i l i t y of c a n n i b a l s f r e q u e n t i n g h i s s i d e o f the island),

and t h i s minor event breeds a c h a i n o f events which

ends i n the r e s c u e of F r i d a y . which a l l o w s Crusoe

The o t h e r event i s the second

shipwreck

to g i v e v o i c e , a g a i n through r e f l e c t i o n s , t o h i s

d e s i r e f o r human conpanionship. reader i s l e d through a s e r i e s

From these two

occurences,

o f m e d i t a t i o n s and a c t i o n s

the

through

w h i c h Crusoe c o n t i n u a l l y proves h i s c a p a b i l i t i e s . . T h i s sequence of thought

and event l e a d s t o the f i n a l r e c a p t u r e of the E n g l i s h

ship

137

from the mutineers

( a g a i n , p o s s i b l y emblematic

of c i v i l i z e d s o c i e t y ) .

of Crusoe's r e c o v e r y

Indeed, we have a l r e a d y seen that t h i s

final

event a l l o w s Crusoe t o prove h i s c a p a b i l i t i e s as a l e a d e r of men b a s i n g h i s a c t i o n s on reason and a f a i t h

i n Providence.

triumph over the u n j u s t and immoral mutineers

by

Crusoe's

(who were p r o b a b l y

m o t i v a t e d i n t h e i r a c t i o n by d e s i r e and i n c l i n a t i o n ) proves t h a t he i s now

a b l e t o r e t u r n t o England and t o p e a c e f u l l y and

confidently

s e t t l e i n t o the s e c u r e and s t a b l e middle s t a t i o n o f l i f e . to d r i v e t h i s p o i n t home, Defoe

g i v e s us one l a s t p i c t u r e o f

i n a c t i o n , t h i s time commanding c i v i l i z e d men wolves

And,

as he i s r e t u r n i n g to England.

as i f

Crusoe

i n the f i g h t w i t h the

The i m p l i c a t i o n

through these

f i n a l a c t i o n s i s that Crusoe has i n t e r n a l i z e d the moral framework, p r e s e n t e d through h i s f a t h e r ' s l e c t u r e s , which he f o o l i s h l y a g a i n s t at the b e g i n n i n g of h i s t a l e .

first

revolted

F i n a l l y , Crusoe i s now

prepared

to w r i t e h i s memoirs (Defoe's " j u s t h i s t o r y o f f a c t " ) and to s t r u c t u r e them so as t o i n s t r u c t

the r e a d e r through "a r e l i g i o u s

of events to the uses to which wise men

always

application

a p p l y them...and t o j u s t i f y

and honour the wisdom of P r o v i d e n c e i n a l l the v a r i e t y o f our c i r c u m s t a n c e s , l e t them happen how

they w i l l "

(I, l x v i i ,

I t i s , i n the f i n a l a n a l y s i s , Defoe's

"Author's

ability

Preface").

to c a r e f u l l y

o r d e r h i s f i c t i o n a l s t r u c t u r e so as t o e x e m p l i f y a n d ' i l l u s t r a t e growing

the

c o n s c i o u s n e s s of the main c h a r a c t e r that r e s u l t s i n the a e s t h e t i c

success of the work.

T h i s s u c c e s s i s a c h i e v e d through an

i d e n t i t y of form and c o n t e n t , and w i t h t h i s w i t h David G r o s s v o g e l who

unmediated

f a c t i n mind, we

can

agree

s t a t e s t h a t Crusoe i s "not r e r e a d because

the c o m p l e x i t i e s o f a c r i t i c ' s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s , " but because

of

o f the

3,7

" s i m p l i c i t y " of the n a r r a t i v e i t s e l f .

'

The word " s i m p l i c i t y , " however,

138

does need some q u a l i f i c a t i o n .

Form:and content a r e one i n t h a t t h e

development o f Crusoe's knowledge and e t h i c s i s r e l a t e d t o us through his

own n a r r a t i v e eye.

just his

He sees the P r o v i d e n t i a l p a t t e r n

as he sees the s t r u c t u r e o f the book i n i t s r e l a t i o n s h i p t o own development.

The s t r u c t u r e o f the book thus r e p r e s e n t s

r e a d e r the growth of r a t i o n a l i t y its

in his life

narrator.

and moral awareness i n the mind of

From voyage t o voyage, and from shipwreck t o shipwreck,

we view the s l o w l y

developing

p r o c e s s e s o f Crusoe's thought, and we

delve w i t h him below the s u r f a c e m a n i f e s t a t i o n to read

t o the

of events and o b j e c t s

a deeper and t r u e r s i g n i f i c a n c e . The n a r r a t i v e eye i s e s s e n t i a l l y

a P u r i t a n and e t h i c a l eye, but i f some events cannot be read as h a v i n g s p e c i f i c and s i g n i f i c a n t r e l i g i o u s meaning, they certainly pattern lie

still

c o n t r i b u t e t o our knowledge o f the n a r r a t o r h i m s e l f

o f h i s moral growth.

Therefore,

and t o the

the book's s i m p l i c i t y

does n o t

e n t i r e l y i n i t s q u a l i t y of d e s c r i p t i v e " r e a l i s m " , n o r i n the p a t t e r n

of an unambiguous adventure s t o r y , b u t r a t h e r i n the complete

identification

between the n a r r a t o r and the n a r r a t i v e , between the theme and t h e a e s t h e t i c and dramatic s t r u c t u r e . One q u a l i t y o f the s t r u c t u r e o f t h i s n o v e l , which Defoe is

doubtlessly

concerned w i t h b r i n g i n g out,

kind of patterned

polemic;

i s t h a t the book i s a

Crusoe, i n n a r r a t i n g h i s l i f e

r e c o n c i l i n g the paradox of t r a d e

story, i s

and m o r a l i t y by t r a c i n g h i s

evolution

from a b r u t e human i n the s t a t e o f n a t u r e t o a c i v i l i z e d human ready to assume h i s p l a c e i n s o c i e t y .

The b a s i c problem which Defoe must

r e s o l v e i s , as we have seen, i n d i c a t e d i n the opposing s e t s of c o u n t e r values

which form a d i a l e c t i c i n the p r e - i s l a n d s e c t i o n o f t h e n a r r a t i v e .

139

I t i s e x a c t l y t h i s o p p o s i t i o n t h a t has

l e d John R i c h e t t i , i n h i s P o p u l a r

F i c t i o n B e f o r e R i c h a r d s o n , t o see the f i r s t

and t h i r d books o f the

Crusoe

t r i l o g y — T h e Strange'and

S u r p r i s i n g Adventures

of

Robinson

Crusoe

and The S e r i o u s R e f l e c t i o n s — a s " d i r e c t e d at a c o u n t e r - i d e o l o g y

of s e c u l a r i n d i v i d u a l i s m which i n s i s t s , i n a sense, upon the i m p l i c a t i o n s of modern e x p e r i e n c e , and thus e f f e c t i v e l y

denies

the

p r o v i d e n t i a l c o n t r o l of the n a t u r a l and human o r d e r s . "

Richetti

c o n t i n u e s , "In i t s b a l a n c i n g o f s e c u l a r and r e l i g i o u s e x p e r i e n c e and i t s compensation Robinson

f o r s e c u l a r a c t i o n and power by p a s s i v i t y and

Crusoe

submission,

e p i t o m i z e s the s t r a t e g y o f p o p u l a r r e l i g i o u s i d e o l o g y , 3'8

not

simply, as Watt would have i t ,

psychology, polemic

Defoe's own

psychosis."

and the p s y c h o l o g i c a l growth, of Crusoe

i n the n o v e l :

the development o f Crusoe's

Thus, the

i m p l i e s a moral c h a r a c t e r on

i s l a n d embodies and e x e m p l i f i e s (through i n c i d e n t , a c t i o n ,

the

and

m e d i t a t i o n ) an i d e o l o g y which i s a b a l a n c e d r e s o l u t i o n o f the

two

s e t s of v a l u e s j u x t a p o s e d i n the e a r l i e s t p o r t i o n o f the n a r r a t i v e . In more p r e c i s e terms, adventures Crusoe's

the t r a d e - m o r a l i t y d i a l e c t i c i n the p r e - i s l a n d

o f the young Crusoe

i s resolved—or synthesized—through

a p p l i c a t i o n o f reason t o h i s s i t u a t i o n and w i t h h i s a c q u i s i t i o n

of C h r i s t i a n

faith.

T h e r e f o r e , on one

l e v e l o f i n t e r p r e t a t i o n , Robinson

Crusoe

illustrates

the harmony between reason and the laws o f n a t u r e on the one hand, and the moral p r i n c i p l e s of the E n g l i s h P r o t e s t a n t r e l i g i o n on the o t h e r . The

r i g h t s o f n a t u r e i n c l u d e those o f s e l f - p r e s e r v a t i o n , the

of the i n d i v i d u a l as d e f i n e d through the concept d e s i r a b i l i t y o f e x t e n d i n g one's own The

liberty

o f p r o p e r t y , and

the

p r o p e r t y to i n s u r e s e l f - p r e s e r v a t i o n .

laws of n a t u r e , a c c o r d i n g to Hobbes and Locke, are those laws o f

140

reason which, i n s u r e t h e l i b e r t y o f the i n d i v i d u a l and h i s r i g h t s to s e l f - p r e s e r v a t i o n and p r o p e r t y .

But the laws o f n a t u r e a l s o

i n s u r e peace, s t a b i l i t y , and o r d e r i n the s t a t e o f n a t u r e , a t l e a s t a c c o r d i n g to Locke.

These laws can be c o n t r o v e r t e d by t h e o v e r l y

a c q u i s i t i v e i n d i v i d u a l , and thus, as i n the e a r l y ,

pre-island

adventures o f Robinson Crusoe, the o r d e r l y arrangement

o f s o c i e t y and

of the Lockean s t a t e of n a t u r e , and the laws g o v e r n i n g b o t h n a t u r e and s o c i e t y , a r e upset.

The u n b a l a n c i n g o f n a t u r e and s o c i e t y i n the

e a r l i e s t p a r t s of Robinson Crusoe o c c u r s through Crusoe's s i n o f p r i d e — h i s reenactment o f the f a l l o f man from the s o c i a l and n a t u r a l o r d e r and from a s t a t e o f grace.

The s i n of one i n d i v i d u a l , i n Defoe's

view, can upset the e n t i r e arrangement

o f the w o r l d , and i n a c h a i n

of e v e n t s , Crusoe's s i n (emblematic o f the s i n o f a l l men) r e s u l t s i n shipwrecks and d i s a s t e r s b e f a l l i n g o t h e r men.

At the end of the book,

however, when Crusoe has become a man o f reason, f a i t h , and knowledge, h i s good a c t s can r e s t o r e s o c i e t y and n a t u r e t o t h e i r p r o p e r b a l a n c e — first,

i n h i s s u c c e s s f u l " c o r r e c t i o n " o f the m u t i n e e r s , and second, i n

h i s wise h a n d l i n g of h i s w e a l t h and h i s s e t t l i n g T h i s c o n t r a s t between the young

down i n E n g l i s h

Crusoe and the mature Crusoe

society.

indicates

that the a c q u i s i t i o n o f b o t h reason and f a i t h can i n f l u e n c e a man t o m a i n t a i n the s o c i a l and .natural o r d e r .

Thus, i n s t e a d o f drawing a

c o n t r a s t between Crusoe as t h e a c t i v e c a p i t a l i s t and Crusoe as t h e p a s s i v e s o c i a l b e i n g , as R i c h e t t i would have us do, we can see the d i f f e r e n c e w i t h r e f e r e n c e t o e i g h t e e n t h c e n t u r y i d e a s o f "wrong" a c t i o n and " r i g h t " a c t i o n .

L e t us b r i e f l y

r e t u r n t o the s t r u c t u r e o f Defoe's

n o v e l as i t r e l a t e s t o these concepts o f a c t i o n .

141

T h i s l a r g e r c o n t r a s t between the younger Crusoe

and

the

o l d e r i s s u p p o r t e d , as we have seen, by a s t r u c t u r e o f p a r a l l e l s and

c o n t r a s t s throughout

the book.

over each s i d e of Crusoe's d i s s i m i l a r i t i e s i n mental

Defoe,

repentance

i n f a c t , works c o n s c i o u s l y

to i n d i c a t e s i m i l a r i t i e s

or

s t a t e s , i n c i d e n t s , and s i t u a t i o n s , i n

o r d e r t o show the m a t u r i n g p r o c e s s which takes p l a c e as h i s main c h a r a c t e r comes t o a more complete Crusoe's

self-knowledge.

The

change i n

temperament would i n d i c a t e t h a t , i f t h e r e e x i s t s a d i a l e c t i c

between s e c u l a r and r e l i g i o u s i n t e r e s t s

(or t r a d e and m o r a l i t y ) i n the

p r e - i s l a n d e x p l o i t s of Crusoe, then a p r o p e r b a l a n c e has been s t r u c k between these two

s e t s of v a l u e s by the time our hero l e a v e s h i s i s l a n d :

b a l a n c e i s simply the p l a c i n g o f r e l i g i o u s and moral one's d e s i r e to r i s e q u i c k l y i n the w o r l d . has

Crusoe,

" c o n t r o l s " on on h i s i s l a n d ,

l e a r n e d to work f o r and m a i n t a i n a s t a t u s q u o — a b a l a n c e d

o r d e r l y way

of l i f e — a n d

this

and

through t h i s achievement has p r e p a r e d him-

s e l f f o r a r e e n t r y i n t o the s o c i e t y of men.

He has

l e a r n e d to c o n t r o l

h i s a c q u i s i t i v e n e s s w i t h a m o r a l i t y which i n v o l v e s the knowledge o f h i s p r o p e r p l a c e i n the n a t u r a l and s o c i a l o r d e r , and t h i s i s e x a c t l y what makes the i s l a n d such a remarkable after his

p r o v i n g ground.

As Crusoe

remarks,

repentance: In the f i r s t p l a c e , I was removed from a l l the wickedness of the w o r l d h e r e . . . . I had n o t h i n g to c o v e t ; f o r I had a l l that I was now capable of e n j o y i n g . I was l o r d o f the whole manor; o r , i f I p l e a s e d , I might c a l l myself k i n g or emperor over the whole country which I had p o s s e s s i o n o f . There were no r i v a l s : I had no c o m p e t i t o r , none to d i s p u t e s o v e r e i g n t y or command w i t h me.... But a l l I c o u l d make use of was a l l t h a t was valuable.... The most covetous g r i p i n g m i s e r i n the w o r l d would have been cured o f the v i c e o f covetousness, i f he had been i n my case; f o r I p o s s e s s e d i n f i n i t e l y more than I knew what to do w i t h . ( I , 142-43)

142

In t h i s s t a t e o f comparative innocence, Robinson r e a l i z e s the need f o r o r d e r .

I f he i s prompted

Crusoe

by f e a r and

desire

to r a i s e h i m s e l f out of h i s b e s t i a l s t a t e and t o o r d e r h i s environment, then he soon a l s o l e a r n s the v i r t u e o f temperance

perhaps simply

because he l e a r n s he can s a t u r a t e h i m s e l f w i t h goods to no whatsoever.

He l e a r n s t o v a l u e t h i n g s f o r t h e i r u t i l i t y ,

goes hand i n hand w i t h r e s t r a i n t

purpose and

this

i n the a c q u i s i t i o n o f goods.

The

important t h i n g to note i s t h a t Crusoe e v e n t u a l l y comes to i n v o l v e b o t h h i s head and h i s h e a r t i n h i s l a b o r and a c q u i s i t i o n , and thus the l o n g m e d i t a t i v e passages wherein Crusoe d i s p l a y s h i s maturing s e l f - k n o w l e d g e and the n a r r a t i o n o f " p r o j e c t s wherein Crusoe channels h i s thoughts and h i s e n e r g i e s towards the problems o f s u r v i v a l are i n t e g r a l t o one another:

the deepening o f Crusoe's moral n a t u r e b o t h c o n t r o l s

and v a l i d a t e s the energy he expends

on s u r v i v a l .

God p l a c e d

man

on e a r t h t o do h i s duty, to work, and to t r a n s f o r m and subdue n a t u r e i n o r d e r to make i t u s e f u l t o h i m s e l f . Crusoe t e l l s us, man

cannot f o r g e t God.

and intemper.ance, as the young

But, i n a l l t h i s ,

Instead of running i n t o excess'

Crusoe d i d , t h i s mature Crusoe

the c o h e s i v e n e s s of c o n s c i o u s a c t i v i t y

illustrates

and m o r a l aim, and i t i s thus

t h a t the paradox o f t r a d e and m o r a l i t y i s r e s o l v e d .

And a l t h o u g h , as

M a r t i n P r i c e has p o i n t e d out, on h i s i s l a n d Crusoe's " t r a d e s m a n l i k e energy remains i n n o c e n t , w i t h no danger of i n o r d i n a t e d e s i r e s

leading

to d i s h o n e s t y , " '" i t i s a l s o on h i s i s l a n d t h a t Crusoe l e a r n s t o c o n t r o l r a t i o n a l l y and m o r a l l y , h i s p r e v i o u s " i n o r d i n a t e

desires."

A g a i n , Defoe's t e c h n i q u e o f d r a m a t i c p r e s e n t a t i o n i s important, f o r we

see Crusoe- v i t a l l y

i n v o l v e d i n s o l v i n g problems

and a s p i r i t u a l n a t u r e .

of b o t h a p r a c t i c a l

J u s t as each s t a g e i n h i s growth t o s e l f -

143

awareness and r i g h t a c t i o n i s d r a m a t i c a l l y rendered and f i x e d his

involvement

d i r e c t l y with trading projects or with

survival

p r o j e c t s , so the s p i r i t u a l and p h i l o s o p h i c q u a l i t y o f each is

Thus, Crusoe

r e t u r n s t o s o c i e t y a new man.

s e t t l e s down i n England,

in

stage

e x p l o r e d and d e f i n e d through a s e r i e s o f m e d i t a t i o n s and

r e f l e c t i o n s b o t h on r e l i g i o n and reason, and on a c t i o n

his

through

itself.

He m a r r i e s and

e n j o y i n g the w e a l t h he has gained

from

B r a z i l i a n p l a n t a t i o n , the money he put i n t o the care o f t h e o l d widow England,

and the t r e a s u r e he accumulated

When he r e a l i z e s

during h i s i s l a n d sojourn.

the extent o f h i s w e a l t h , he s t a t e s that " I might

w e l l say now, indeed, t h a t the l a t t e r end o f Job was b e t t e r

than

the b e g i n n i n g " ( I , 318). Crusoe handles h i s money w i s e l y t h i s time, p r e f e r r i n g to i n v e s t most o f i t s a f e l y , and to g e n e r o u s l y p o r t i o n s o f i t on f a i t h f u l f r i e n d s and r e l a t i v e s .

He can s a y , then,

at

the end o f h i s s t o r y , "And thus I have g i v e n the f i r s t

of

f o r t u n e and adventure,

a life

of Providence's

settle

part of a l i f e

chequersrwork,

and o f

a v a r i e t y which the w o r l d w i l l seldom be a b l e t o show the l i k e o f ; b e g i n n i n g f o o l i s h l y , but c l o s i n g much more h a p p i l y than any p a r t o f i t ever gave me l e a v e so much as t o hope f o r " ( I , 340). Defoe shows us, then, t h a t reason and f a i t h can work t o r e s t o r e b a l a n c e and n o r m a l i t y t o a s i t u a t i o n made extremely u n s t a b l e by man's intemperate

and immoderate d e s i r e s .

But, t h i s r e s o l u t i o n i n one man

does n o t mean t h a t the d i a l e c t i c i s r e s o l v e d i n s o c i e t y a t l a r g e . U n f o r t u n a t e l y , Defoe r e a l i z e s , t o o few men honor t h e i r s o c i a l c o n t r a c t s and o b l i g a t i o n s , and so he perhaps

o f f e r s h i s Crusoe

as an example o f the

good man which o t h e r s s h o u l d i m i t a t e . I f the n o v e l shows Crusoe h i m s e l f out o f the s t a t e o f n a t u r e as i s l a n d , then one o t h e r

pulling

implication

i s t h a t other men

s h o u l d , and

c o u l d through r i g h t a c t i o n s , p u l l

themselves out of the s t a t e of n a t u r e as s o c i e t y . be no

Thus, t h e r e would

d i s j u n c t i o n between p u b l i c v i r t u e and p r i v a t e v i c e — n o

d i s p a r i t y between the e s s e n t i a l v a l u e of t r a d e and v a l u e of p r i v a t e m o r a l i t y — f o r a l l men r e a s o n a b l e b e i n g s , and circuits

of t h e i r

the

would become moral

f o r c e s f o r o r d e r and s t a b i l i t y

lives.

intrinsic and

i n the s m a l l

CHAPTER IV Conclusion:

Theme and

Technique

While d e l i n e a t i n g t h r e e fundamental themes i n Robinson C r u s o e — t h e r e l i g i o u s , the economic, knowledge—I

and the theme o f growth t o moral

have a l s o attempted to c o n s t r u c t v a r i o u s models which

d e s c r i b e the fundamental s t r u c t u r e o f the n o v e l .

would

These models have

i n c l u d e d the p a r a t a c t i c s t r u c t u r e , the p a t t e r n o f i n t e r a c t i o n between two themes, and f i n a l l y , a d r a m a t i c p a t t e r n through which p r e s e n t s h i s hero's a c q u i s i t i o n o f reason and f a i t h .

Defoe

These

three

p a t t e r n s and the t h r e e most fundamental themes are not i s o l a t e d

from

one another, but r a t h e r work t o g e t h e r to s t r u c t u r e and c r e a t e meaning i n Defoe's n o v e l .

P r e v i o u s c r i t i c s have tended to i s o l a t e

one theme and one p a t t e r n from the r e s t , e l e v a t i n g one aspect of the book at the expense o f a l l o t h e r s ; t h u s , a s o l e l y r e l i g i o u s

inter-

p r e t a t i o n o f the work tends t o undercut what economic meaning i t may have, and v i c e v e r s a . has been

And f o r the most p a r t , a p h i l o s o p h i c a l

c a l l e d i n simply to support one o f two b a s i c

o f the n o v e l :

i f a critic

background

interpretations

sees the book as a r e l i g i o u s and

allegorical

s t o r y , then he draws support from a P u r i t a n background and p h i l o s o p h y ; if

a critic,

on the o t h e r hand, sees the book as a t r a c t on

economics

(as Watt and Novak have done), then h i s support i s drawn from a more s e c u l a r p h i l o s o p h y and from p o l i t i c a l

and economic w r i t i n g s .

I suggest

146

a change i n our c r i t i c a l view o f Robinson relation

Crusoe; s e e i n g the n o v e l i n

to the v a l u e s and i d e a s of i t s a g e — i t s b r o a d c u l t u r a l

ideological complete

background—should

a l l o w one

to put t o g e t h e r a more

p a t t e r n o f meaning i n the book, a p a t t e r n which w i l l

i n t o account n e a r l y a l l of the n a r r a t i v e elements the t h r e e themes as b e i n g i n t e r r e l a t e d

and

take

and a l l o w us t o see

and i n t e g r a l .

By

"narrative

elements" I mean the author's t e c h n i q u e i n i t s broadest sense as it

i s d e f i n e d by Mark S c h o r e r i n h i s essay, "Technique

as D i s c o v e r y : "

When we speak o f technique...we speak of n e a r l y e v e r y thing. For technique i s the means by which the w r i t e r ' s e x p e r i e n c e , which i s h i s s u b j e c t matter, compels him to a t t e n d t o i t ; t e c h n i q u e i s the o n l y means he has of d i s c o v e r i n g , e x p l o r i n g , developing h i s s u b j e c t , of conveying i t s meaning, and, f i n a l l y , of e v a l u a t i n g i t . Technique i s r e a l l y what T.S. E l i o t means by " c o n v e n t i o n " — any s e l e c t i o n , s t r u c t u r e , or d i s t o r t i o n , any form or rhythm imposed upon the w o r l d of a c t i o n ; by means o f w h i c h — i t s h o u l d be a d d e d — o u r apprehens i o n o f the world of a c t i o n i s e n r i c h e d o r renewed.! As was

suggested i n the p r e v i o u s c h a p t e r , Defoe's

can be d e s c r i b e d as one o f c o n t i n u a l s i m p l i f i c a t i o n .

technique

His s t y l e , f o r

example, i s p l a i n , h i s d e s c r i p t i o n s are o f s u r f a c e s (Locke's primary qualities

of matter) or of events o r o b j e c t s t h a t can be r e a d as

a l l e g o r i c a l s h e l l s , and f i n a l l y , h i s n a r r a t i v e c o n t a i n s a s i n g l e thrust.

Thus, A.D.

M c K i l l o p d e s c r i b e s the broad a p p e a l of

Crusoe as stemming from an "impulse...toward primitivism."

He d e s c r i b e s Crusoe's

Robinson

s i m p l i f i c a t i o n , not

a c t i o n s on the i s l a n d

moral

as

toward

illustrating

"a s i m p l e r - t h a n - r e a l - l i f e - p r o g r a m , " but here M c K i l l o p i s d i s c u s s i n g 2 a s i n g l e theme w i t h o u t r e l a t i n g t h a t Defoe's

i t to technique.

I would suggest

themes and h i s t e c h n i q u e are a l l p a r t of a s i n g l e

moral

v i s i o n which s u f f u s e s the n o v e l , and t h a t h i s technique i s , i n t h i s sense, those methods through which Defoe p r e s e n t s h i s moral

vision.

147

The impulse through the n o v e l — o n b o t h a thematic and t e c h n i c a l is

toward s i m p l i f i c a t i o n

and r e c o n c i l i a t i o n as Crusoe r e a l i z e s

moral knowledge w h i l e working back t o s o c i e t y .

level— this

through h i s adventures and p r o j e c t s

T h e r e f o r e , Robinson

Crusoe embodies not o n l y a theory

of

man b u t a moral v i s i o n as w e l l , and both v i s i o n and t h e o r y s e r v e

to

d e f i n e Defoe's

are,

i n t e n t i o n s and h i s t e c h n i q u e .

And v i s i o n and theory

o f course, subsumed i n the l a r g e r and more complex c u l t u r a l and

i d e o l o g i c a l model which has been d e f i n e d i n the p r e v i o u s two c h a p t e r s . Our r e a d i n g o f Defoe's n o v e l has i n d i c a t e d t h a t , f o r purposes of f i c t i o n a l p r e s e n t a t i o n , the author has reduced and s i m p l i f i e d model through h i s t e c h n i q u e .

But b e f o r e i n v o l v i n g o u r s e l v e s i n these

i s s u e s , a s h o r t summary o f f i n d i n g s i s perhaps

i n order.

F i r s t , Defoe's n o v e l embodies an e s s e n t i a l l y P u r i t a n vision.

this

religious

D i f f e r e n t events and s i t u a t i o n s a r e o b v i o u s l y i n t e n d e d to

be emblematic.

Crusoe's l e a v i n g home r e p r e s e n t s the f a l l

d i s o b e d i e n c e , h i s wanderings

embody i s o l a t i o n

-

o f man

through

from God and v a l u e

(Jonah, the p r o d i g a l s o n ) , h i s p h y s i c a l i s o l a t i o n on the i s l a n d r e p r e s e n t s t h i s same s p i r i t u a l a l i e n a t i o n and a complete alienation.

social

P r o v i d e n c e , the hand o f God, i n t e r v e n e s throughout

Crusoe's l i f e ,

l e a d i n g both Crusoe and the r e a d e r t o see h i s a u t o -

b i o g r a p h y as " P r o v i d e n c e ' s chequer-work."

The n o v e l , i n t h i s

sense,

shows how the moral and r e l i g i o u s v i s i o n of the n a r r a t i n g Crusoe has developed—what the of

younger

s i g n i f i c a n t i n c i d e n t s , s i t u a t i o n s , and thoughts

Crusoe e x p e r i e n c e d which

came to d e f i n e the r e l i g i o u s

view and the r e l i g i o u s p a t t e r n o f the book.

Thus, Crusoe

h i m s e l f as r e e n a c t i n g the a g e - o l d p a t t e r n o f the f a l l loss of Paradise ( i n this

point

sees

of man, the

case, the middle s t a t i o n and s o c i e t y ) , t h e

148

e x i l e and

repentance of the wanderer, and

to P a r a d i s e

a final restoration

( a g a i n , s o c i e t y seen e m b l e m a t i c a l l y ) .

This pattern

i s , perhaps, the backbone of the n o v e l , s i n c e the n a r r a t i n g Crusoe has

i n t e r n a l i z e d t h i s C h r i s t i a n view of l i f e

s t o r y as i t i l l u s t r a t e s t h i s view.

As we

and

presents

have seen, the

his

own

religious

v i s i o n i s so s t r o n g i n c e r t a i n p a r t s of the n a r r a t i v e t h a t some c r i t i c s attempt an a l l e g o r i c a l i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f the work.

But

no p r e c i s e , p o i n t - f o r - p o i n t analogy between each one a fundamental C h r i s t i a n p a t t e r n of meaning.

One

again, there i s

of the events

can,

and

f o r example,

read the m i r a c l e of the corn as emblematic of the seeds of grace s p r o u t i n g i n Crusoe's h e a r t , but nonexistent.

the d i r e c t

correlation is in fact

When the " p h y s i c a l " i n c i d e n t o c c u r s , the seeds of grace

have not y e t s p r o u t e d ,

and

they

don't u n t i l sometime l a t e r .

At most,

t h i s event can be read as a k i n d of emblematic foreshadowing, but Defoe i s probably

more concerned w i t h the

d i s p a r i t y between t h i s c o n v e n t i o n a l s p i r i t u a l s t a t e at the

thematic

p o s s i b i l i t i e s of a

r e l i g i o u s metaphor and

time the a c t u a l event takes p l a c e .

i s more a case o f i s o l a t e d i r o n y , s i n c e Crusoe f a l l s even t h i n k s of r e p e n t i n g .

T h i s example before

There are o t h e r events which might

i n t e r p r e t e d as emblematic, but reading

ill

Crusoe's

he

be

o n l y by s t r e t c h i n g a p o i n t o r by

the metaphoric meaning i n a v e r y broad and

Crusoe, f o r example, forms h i s f i r s t

general

sense;

pot, which r e p r e s e n t s h i s g i v i n g

s p i r i t u a l shape to h i s s o u l , or Crusoe o r d e r i n g h i s i s l a n d - w i l d e r n e s s p a r a l l e l s h i s growth out

of h i s "inward j u n g l e . "

r e a d i n g , b e s i d e s b e i n g hazy and

This

allegorical

at times ambiguous, would a l s o g i v e

more of a s u b s i d i a r y s t a t u s t o the o t h e r themes than i s warranted by text.

These o t h e r p a t t e r n s are s t r e s s e d too much throughout the

the

novel

149

and,

i n t h i s sense, s h o u l d

allegorical

not be

t o say

t h a t the

frame of r e f e r e n c e ,

economic and

so that the economic p a t t e r n

moral theme.

laissez-faire

supports

and

moral view.

eventually,

This

l a t t e r p a r t o f the

the

conservative

century,

Crusoe opt

conservative

thought i n the

i n d i c a t e d p r i m a r i l y i n the w r i t i n g s of R i c h a r d The

the

A g a i n , i n the o p p o s i t i o n between m e r c a n t i l i

have seen, a b a s i c p a r t of P u r i t a n

William Perkins.

on

r e l i g i o u s p a t t e r n supports

c a p i t a l i s m , both Defoe and,

f o r the more c o n s e r v a t i v e

century,

a perspective

His s i n s are i n f a c t enacted i n a more economic

r e l i g i o u s and moral theme j u s t as the

as we

general r e l i g i o u s

i s unimportant, f o r i t operates to p l a c e

Crusoe's economics.

and

to a s o l e l y r e l i g i o u s -

pattern.

However, t h i s i s not pattern

relegated

bias i s ,

seventeenth Baxter

and

a t t i t u d e does change throughout

but w r i t e r s such as Defoe and

the

Locke—

both from P u r i t a n b a c k g r o u n d s — s t i l l s i d e w i t h the m e r c a n t i l i s t conservatives.

Thus Defoe a c t u a l l y f o r t i f i e s h i s economic theme

i n Robinson Crusoe by

s e t t i n g h i s hero's t r a d i n g v e n t u r e s i n a moral

and

r e l i g i o u s context.

The

moral depends on the

but

i t depends on socio-economic v a l u e s

as w e l l .

r e l i g i o u s framework, We

have seen t h a t

Crusoe's e a r l y t r a d i n g schemes are i n d i r e c t o p p o s i t i o n s o c i a l v a l u e s — i . e . , maintaining

order,

f a s t e r than the n a t u r e of t h i n g s

allows—both

and

s t a b i l i t y , b a l a n c e , not expounded by h i s

i m p l i e d through the o l d e r Crusoe's moral v i s i o n and

e t h i c a l awareness on the i s l a n d . maintian a status l e a r n s to v a l u e

quo,

things

and

to the

rising father

h i s growth to

Crusoe l e a r n s to o r d e r h i s

life,

r e a l i z e the b l e s s i n g s o f so doing.

economically

correct

only as they are u s e f u l to

He him,

150

honor h i s c o n t r a c t u a l arrangements, of h i s s e r v a n t and f r i e n d s . stability

and r e c i p r o c a t e the l o y a l t i e s

In s h o r t , he l e a r n s the e s s e n t i a l v a l u e o f

and s e c u r i t y through h i s e x p e r i e n c e and through h i s coming

to a knowledge o f p r o p e r p o s i t i o n , duty, and o b l i g a t i o n . As our summary has thus f a r i n d i c a t e d , a p a t t e r n o f growth i n t o moral v i s i o n and knowledge i s superimposed and economic p a t t e r n s .

on both.the

religious

We have seen t h a t t h i s l a r g e r p a t t e r n i n v o l v e s

an awareness o f both the p h i l o s o p h i c a l i d e a s i n c i r c u l a t i o n a t the time and the v a l u e s p r e s e n t e d i n the p h i l o s o p h i e s o f the seventeenth century.

C e r t a i n C h r i s t i a n i d e a l s a r e fundamental

t o Locke's

views

on man and s o c i e t y , and these i d e a l s a r e i n h e r e n t i n the Lockean for greater knowledge—for r a t i o n a l workings Crusoe

quest

d i s c o v e r i n g , i n o t h e r words, the sane and

o f a u n i v e r s e which embodies the wisdom o f i t s C r e a t o r .

grows i n t o t h i s knowledge w h i l e on h i s i s l a n d .

He d i s c o v e r s t h a t

n a t u r e i s b e s t made u s e f u l by o r d e r i n g i t a c c o r d i n g to the p r i n c i p l e s of reason, and t h a t n a t u r e h e r s e l f c o n t a i n s a n a t u r a l law o r o r d e r which Crusoe r e a l i z e s by assuming ( i n Locke's over the environment. solidifies

terms) a " n a t u r a l

A f t e r h i s repentance, he n o t e s t h a t

and b u i l d s on t h i s r a t i o n a l i t y ;

v a l i d a t e s , i n o t h e r words.

control"

faith

reason o r d e r s and f a i t h

Thus, a f t e r h i s repentance,

i n d i c a t e s t h a t he makes h i m s e l f "very melancholy

Crusoe

sometimes, i n r e f l e c t i n g ,

as the s e v e r a l o c c a s i o n s p r e s e n t e d , how mean a use we make o f a l l these [the p r e c e p t s o f r e a s o n ] , even though we have these powers e n l i g h t e n e d by the g r e a t lamp o f i n s t r u c t i o n , the S p i r i t

o f God, and

by the knowledge o f H i s Word added t o our u n d e r s t a n d i n g . . . . "

And he makes

" c e r t a i n d i s c o v e r i e s o f the i n v i s i b l e w o r l d and a converse o f s p i r i t s we cannot

doubt"

( I , 233) through both h i s u n d e r s t a n d i n g o f the law of

151

n a t u r e and h i s d i s c o v e r y o f the reasonableness These c o n c e p t s , then, l e a d Crusoe

of C h r i s t i a n

t o accept r a t i o n a l l y and

faith. apodictically

the e x i s t e n c e of a "converse o f s p i r i t s " and a hand of P r o v i d e n c e at work i n the w o r l d , and t h i s

r e a l i z a t i o n i s , of c o u r s e , p a r t and

p a r c e l o f h i s new-found knowledge. l i e at the b a s i s of Locke's

always

own

L i k e w i s e , these concepts seem to

quest

speaking, h i s philosophy i t s e l f — a n d

for knowledge—in

a manner of

i n p r e s e n t i n g t h i s more

p h i l o s o p h i c theme of s e l f - k n o w l e d g e , Defoe i s r e d u c i n g the Lockean (and P u r i t a n i n some r e s p e c t s ) concepts of reason and f a i t h and i n t e r a c t i o n to t h e i r most b a s i c and s i m p l i f i e d l e v e l s .

their

At the same

time, Defoe's r e d u c t i o n l e a d s to an i n t e g r a t i o n o f a l l t h r e e b a s i c themes s i m p l y by showing them as i n t e r r e l a t e d p a r t s o f the same b a s i c moral v i s i o n — i n All

this

case, Crusoe's

vision.

t h r e e themes, then, are r e f l e x i v e i n t h a t

d e f i n e the "complete f a i t h to produce

man"

they work t o

as he combines the p r i n c i p l e s o f reason

e s s e n t i a l l y good a c t i o n s .

T h i s complete

man

and

is

Crusoe h i m s e l f when he l e a v e s h i s i s l a n d to r e t u r n to c i v i l i z a t i o n ; has a s t r o n g moral v i s i o n ,

f o r t i f i e d by b o t h reason and

Crusoe's m o r a l i t y has, o f c o u r s e , i t s p a s s i v e a s p e c t ; and awareness come through r i g h t But h i s v i s i o n a l s o has actions.

( r a t i o n a l ) thoughts

faith.

self-knowledge and

contemplation.

an a c t i v e s i d e ; r i g h t i n t e n t i o n s l e a d to good

Thus, a c c o r d i n g to Crusoe

are to l i s t e n

he

to the v o i c e o f Nature

i n h i s S e r i o u s R e f l e c t i o n s , "...we [ i . e . , Reason],

and t o the

v o i c e s o f c r e a t u r e s , v i z . , t o the v o i c e o f the i n v i s i b l e agents the w o r l d of s p i r i t s . . . w e are to l i s t e n to the v o i c e o f God"

of

( I I I , 187).

L i s t e n i n g to the v o i c e o f " i n v i s i b l e a g e n t s " and "the v o i c e o f

God"

152

a r e , i n Crusoe's and emblematic

sense, p a r t s o f the P u r i t a n concepts o f i n t r o s p e c t i o n

i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of e v e n t s .

But, i n Crusoe's

case, t h i s

moral v i s i o n i s a l s o f i r m l y grounded i n the p h i l o s o p h y o f the p e r i o d , so t h a t both r e l i g i o n and p h i l o s o p h y work to g i v e man a s t r o n g sense and knowledgeof r i g h t a c t i o n i n a w o r l d t h r e a t e n e d by the i n o r d i n a t e and immoral d e s i r e s and i n c l i n a t i o n s o f a f a l l e n human n a t u r e . Crusoe has l e a r n e d h i s l e s s o n ; he must work f o r o r d e r and s t a b i l i t y , f o r o n l y then w i l l he be b l e s s e d (as was J o b ) , and o n l y then i s t h e r e a possibility

t h a t s o c i e t y as a whole ( w i t h r e f e r e n c e t o the themes o f

Defoe's n o v e l ) w i l l be b a l a n c e d , o r d e r e d , and sane. purpose,

then, i s perhaps

Defoe's p o l e m i c a l

t o show that people s h o u l d f o l l o w

example, r e a l i z i n g as completely as p o s s i b l e t h e i r p o s i t i o n

Cursoe's i n a world

t h r e a t e n e d by the p r o b a b i l i t y o f human anarchy, and that t h e i r duty i s — b y

moral

f o l l o w i n g the d i c t a t e s o f reason, f a i t h , and moral

k n o w l e d g e — t o become a c t i v e i n p r o m u l g a t i n g i d e a l s o f o r d e r and social stability.

In a l l t h e i r a c t i o n s , people s h o u l d m a i n t a i n a

C h r i s t i a n m o r a l i t y and a p p l y the p r i n c i p l e s o f human reason. T h e r e f o r e , t o Defoe, p r o p e r knowledge should apply t o a c t i o n i n all

spheres o f human e n d e a v o r — p o l i t i c a l , s o c i a l economic, p h i l o s o p h i c ,

religious.

But, as we have seen, i n e i g h t e e n t h century p h i l o s o p h y a major

p o r t i o n o f these c a t e g o r i e s d i s s o l v e i n t o a s i n g l e economic work.

S o c i a l and p o l i t i c a l

c o n t r a c t s " which,

frame-

r e l a t i o n s h i p s are seen as a system o f " t r a d e

t o a p h i l o s o p h e r such as Locke, s h o u l d p r o v i d e the

maximum freedom t o the i n d i v i d u a l

( d e f i n e d , s i g n i f i c a n t l y , through an

"economic" concept o f p r o p e r t y ) w h i l e at the same time i n s i s t i n g on an o r d e r l y arrangement o f these c o n t r a c t s which would i n s u r e a s t a b i l i z e d society.

The s e t o f laws which govern b o t h the s t a t e o f n a t u r e and the

153

arrangement of s o c i e t y s h o u l d a l s o o f course operate b a l a n c e , o r s t a t u s quo,

to m a i n t a i n a

i n the a r e a of a c t u a l t r a d i n g

relationships.

Thus, t h e r e i s a g e n e r a l c o n n e c t i o n between Locke's a b s t r a c t and t h e o r e t i c a l concepts Crusoe.

and Defoe's thematic i n t e n t i o n s i n Robinson

Defoe's purpose i n s e t t i n g Crusoe i n a s t a t e o f n a t u r e

and

t r a c i n g h i s growth back i n t o s o c i e t y i s to i l l u s t r a t e those r u l e s which s h o u l d always govern man's a c t i o n s .

Locke's c o d i f i c a t i o n o f the laws

of n a t u r e , h i s d e s c r i p t i o n o f . t h e s t a t e of n a t u r e , h i s view of s o c i e t y as a system of c o n t r a c t and i n Crusoe's

t r a d e r e l a t i o n s h i p s , are a l l p a r a l l e l e d

r e a l i z a t i o n of h i s p o s i t i o n i n a s t a t e o f n a t u r e

in society.

And,

j u s t as Locke's p h i l o s o p h y i s based

s h i p s between reason and

faith

(the quest

on the

and relation-

f o r knowledge b e i n g a r a t i o n a l

d i s c o v e r y of man's purpose and p o s i t i o n i n r e l a t i o n to n a t u r e , and God),

so Crusoe must i n t e r n a l i z e the p r i n c i p l e s o f

society,

reason

and f a i t h i n o r d e r to r e c o v e r h i s p r o p e r p o s i t i o n i n b o t h a C h r i s t i a n cosmos and a s e c u l a r s o c i e t y . The way

i n which Defoe p r e s e n t s t h i s b a s i c theme i s most

important h e r e , s i n c e he i s i l l u s t r a t i n g , o r g a n i z a t i o n of r e a l i t y abstract philosophy.

through Kis f i c t i o n , the same

t h a t Locke attempts

The

b o t h Defoe's and Crusoe's

i n h i s more t h e o r e t i c a l

r a t h e r complex i d e o l o g i c a l model which v i s i o n i s thus

reduced

and

informs

and s i m p l i f i e d i n o r d e r

to c o n c r e t e l y r e p r e s e n t the i d e a s , i d e a l s , and v a l u e s by which the eighteenth—-century Englishman s h o u l d l i v e . A. s t r u c t u r e and

the moral c o n f l i c t s i n

In t h i s sense,

Robinson Crusoe are

the

dramatic

unidimensional

i n t h a t b o t h are c o n t r o l l e d by a s i n g l e , p e r v a d i n g moral v i s i o n which i n f u s e s b o t h theme and

technique,.

For example, p a r t o f the s i m p l i f i c a t i o n i s a p l a i n n e s s of s t y l e which i s d i s c u s s e d not o n l y by Defoe, but a l s o by P u r i t a n w r i t e r s and

154

Locke h i m s e l f .

Plainness

i n s t y l e leads, i n a l l three cases,

c l o s e r approximation o f r e a l i t y

(Locke's e m p i r i c i s m ,

to a

the P u r i t a n

emblematic v i s i o n o f e x p e r i e n c e ) and thus c l o s e r to the fundamental t r u t h s o f the human c o n d i t i o n . s t y l e l e a d s to a uniform ment. is

And, i n b o t h Locke and Defoe,

this

tone o f " c o o l " o b j e c t i v i t y and e m o t i o n a l d e t a c h -

Since most o f Defoe's s t o r i e s are memoirs, the n a r r a t o r

detached from h i s e a r l i e r e x p e r i e n c e .

T h i s detachment

himself

creates

b o t h an " a e s t h e t i c d i s t a n c e " between the n a r r a t o r and the e a r l y events of h i s l i f e ,

and a s t y l e t h a t remains " o u t s i d e " — n o t

i n v o l v e d , i n other w o r d s — t h e narrated

situations.

emotionally The given event i s

r e p o r t e d by means of a detached s t y l e which l e a d s , p a r a d o x i c a l l y , t o an e m o t i o n a l involvement by the reader.

Crusoe, f o r example, r e l a t e s

t h a t a f t e r the f i r s t shipwreck, he never saw any o f h i s f e l l o w crewmen, " o r any s i g n o f them, except t h r e e o f t h e i r h a t s , one cap, and

two shoes that were n o t f e l l o w s " ( I , 4 3 ) . Not o n l y does t h i s

sentence i l l u s t r a t e Defoe's use of c i r c u m s t a n t i a l d e t a i l , b u t the style i t s e l f in

r e f l e c t s an e m o t i o n a l detachment.

The reader

must

fill

the emotional gap; he must imagine the sadness, perhaps even the

b i t t e r n e s s , that Crusoe f e e l s when he f i n d s these o b j e c t s on t h e beach. Therefore,

the detachment o f the n a r r a t o r l e a d s n o t n e c e s s a r i l y

to i r o n y , but r a t h e r to empathy.

A g a i n , the s t r a i g h t - f o r w a r d and

c o n s i s t e n t l y s e r i o u s manner i n which Crusoe t e l l s h i s s t o r y m i l i t a t e s a g a i n s t any p e r v a s i v e

i r o n i c view o f h i s adventures.

C e r t a i n l y there

are i s o l a t e d cases o f i r o n y , but only when some o f Crusoe's e a r l y a c t i o n s a r e h e l d up a g a i n s t

the moral v i s i o n o f the n a r r a t o r .

or Pope, f o r example, may use the detached persona t o c r e a t e

Swift complex

155

i r o n i e s i n t h e i r works, but

Defoe o f f e r s us a simple n a r r a t i v e which

evokes an empathetic response from the r e a d e r , not

an i r o n i c

Defoe undoubtedly meant us to take h i s hero s e r i o u s l y , not as a b u f f o o n

one.

to see

him

or to see h i s e n t i r e autobiography as an i r o n i c i n v e r s i o n

of the moral v i e w p o i n t

of the o l d e r Crusoe.

T h i s l a c k of complex

i r o n y again l e a d s us to see the n o v e l as e s s e n t i a l l y

unidimensional;

r a t h e r than c r e a t i n g a complex s t r u c t u r e of meaning through

convolutions

and

meditations

v e r b a l c o m p l e x i t i e s , Defoe reduces Crusoe's a c t i o n s and

to a s i n g l e , s t r a i g h t - f o r w a r d , " s u r f a c e " l e v e l . F i n a l l y , i f Defoe's n o v e l i s not i r o n y , our is

a work of complex QE

pervasive

case a g a i n s t the t r a d e - m o r a l i t y c o n f l i c t s c h o o l of

criticism

f u r t h e r strengthened.

Any

major theme o r p a t t e r n i n the book can

be read p r e c i s e l y f o r what i t i s , n e i t h e r more nor progress

i n b o t h the r e l i g i o u s and

o f f a i t h and

reason—is

Crusoe's

economic p a t t e r n s — h i s slow a c q u i s i t i o n

subsumed i n a l a r g e r , more g e n e r a l

of h i s growth out of the s t a t e of n a t u r e being,

less.

able to r e e n t e r s o c i e t y .

i n t o a " c i v i l i z e d " human

Thus, each theme and

pattern

the same fundamental moral purpose; Defoe's i n t e n t i o n i s to to h i s readers

a p i c t u r e of the e s s e n t i a l l y good

man.

His t e c h n i q u e ,

a man

by

then,

reflects

present

eighteenth-century

r e f l e c t s h i s i n t e n t i o n ; he

defines

such

s l o w l y and p a i n s t a k i n g l y t r a c i n g Crusoe's growth through a

s e r i e s of adventures and being.

pattern

s i t u a t i o n s which produce t h i s

Crusoe, t h e r e f o r e , i s a man

t r a d e and m o r a l i t y .

He

who

paradigmatic

can r e s o l v e the paradox between

does so by becoming an e s s e n t i a l l y

conservative

f e l l o w w i t h s t r o n g r e l i g i o u s moral p r i n c i p l e s and w i t h a s t r o n g i n a s t a b l e and conjunction with

ordered one

society.

By

l e t t i n g reason

another, Crusoe can be

and

belief

f a i t h work i n

r e s p o n s i b l e f o r good

156

s o c i a l a c t i o n s — i . e . , a c t i o n s which w i l l and b a l a n c e of s o c i e t y . Crusoe has

caught

i n s u r e the c o n t i n u e d p r o s p e r i t y

In s h o r t , by the end of the n o v e l the younger

up completely w i t h the o l d e r one

i n t h a t he

has

i n t e r n a l i z e d moral and r a t i o n a l p r i n c i p l e s and i s thus a b l e to assume a r a t i o n a l and s t a b l e p o i s i t i o n i n s o c i e t y .

He has

learned, quite

s i m p l y , t h a t reason o r d e r s and s t a b i l i z e s one's thoughts and

that f a i t h validates—makes

actions.

Crusoe has

and a c t i o n s ,

s i g n i f i c a n t — t h o s e meditations

and

thus a c q u i r e d a moral c o n s c i e n c e and a p h i l o s o p h i c a l

knowledge of h i s p l a c e i n a r a t i o n a j L l y o p e r a t e d , and e s s e n t i a l l y cosmos.

He has

combined p r i n c i p l e s of a s e c u l a r knowledge

moral,

(economic

and p h i l o s o p h i c a l ) w i t h the p r e c e p t s of P r o t e s t a n t C h r i s t i a n f a i t h

to

f i n d a p a t t e r n o f r e l i g i o u s meaning, s o c i a l i d e n t i t y , and v a l u e i n h i s own

life,

and i s thus o f f e r e d t o us by Defoe as the p a r a d i g m a t i c model

of the e i g h t e e n t h - c e n t u r y middle

class

Englishman.

\

NOTES

CHAPTER I

~*"Defoe's Review, ed. William Lytton Payne (New York: University Press, 1938), XXII, 214.

Columbia

2 Rudolf G. Stamm, "Daniel Defoe: An A r t i s t i n the Puritan T r a d i t i o n , " P h i l o l o g i c a l Quarterly, 15 (1936), 225-46. 3

Hans H. Anderson, "TEe Paradox of Trade and Morality i n Defoe," Modern Philology, 39 (1941), 23-46. ^Maximillian E. Novak, Defoe and the Nature of Man (London: Oxford University Press, 1963), p. 88. ^Maximillian E. Novak, Economics and the F i c t i o n of Daniel Defoe (Berkeley: University of C a l i f o r n i a Press, 1962), pp. 3-31. Hereafter cited as Economics. Novak, Economics, especially pp. 32-66. ''ian Watt, The Rise of the Novel: Studies i n Defoe, Richardson and F i e l d i n g (1957; r p t . Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of C a l i f o r n i a Press, 1967), pp. 60-92. g Arnold Kettle, An Introduction to the English Novel (1951; rpt. New York: Harper & Row, 1960), I, 21-26, 55-62..

9 George A. Starr, Defoe and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1965) "^See J . Paul Hunter, The Reluctant Pilgrim: Defoe's Emblematic Method and Quest f o r Form i n Robinson Crusoe (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1966) and Edwin B. Benjamin, "Symbolic Elements i n Robinson Crusoe," P h i l o l o g i c a l Quarterly, 30 (1951), 206-11. There are actually two Covenants. The f i r s t dates from 1638 when a protestation was signed throughout Scotland i n which the signers (Covenanters) pledged to defend the Protestant ( i . e . , C a l y i n i s t ) r e l i g i o n .

158

The second Convenant—the.one r e l a t i n g to our d i s c u s s i o n — i s a t r e a t y , The Solemn League and Covenant, concluded between the E n g l i s h P a r l i a m e n t (at t h a t : t i m e i n r e v o l t a g a i n s t C h a r l e s I) and the Scots n a t i o n i n 1643. In r e t u r n f o r S c o t t i s h m i l i t a r y a i d i n p r o s e c u t i n g the war a g a i n s t C h a r l e s , i t was s t i p u l a t e d t h a t the reformed church i n S c o t l a n d ( P r e s b y t e r i a n ) would be p r e s e r v e d , popery and e p i s c o p a c y were t o be e x t i r p a t e d i n b o t h England and S c o t l a n d , and peace would be concluded between the two kingdoms. The Covenant remained on the books, o f f i c i a l l y at l e a s t , throughout the p e r i o d o f P u r i t a n r u l e . With the r e s t o r a t i o n of C h a r l e s I I , however, the Covenant came under heavy c r i t i c i s m , and the t r e a t y i t s e l f was e f f e c t u a l l y a b o l i s h e d by the Clarendon Code, though the Scots c o n t i n u e d f o r some time to r e f e r t o i t as i f i t were s t i l l in effect. 12 O l i v e r Heywood: H i s Autobiography, D i a r i e s , Anecdotes and Event Books, ed. J . H o r s f a l l Turner (London: B r i g h o u s e and B i n g l e y , 1882-85), I , 93. 13 G.R. Cragg, P u r i t a n i s m i n the P e r i o d o f the Great P e r s e c u t i o n , 1660-1688 (Cambridge: C a m b r i d g e - U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1957), p. 9. 14 Middlesex:

Century

Maurice A s h l e y , England i n the Seventeenth Century Penguin Books, 1952), p. 126.

(Harmondsworth,

"^Bonamy Dobree, E n g l i s h L i t e r a t u r e i n the E a r l y E i g h t e e n t h (1959; r e p t . O x f o r d : Clarendon P r e s s , . 1 9 6 4 ) , p. 35. 16

Quoted i n John Robert Moore, D a n i e l Defoe: C i t i z e n of the Modern World (Chicago: U n i v e r s i t y . o f . C h i c a g o P r e s s , 1958), p. 35. " ^ W i l l i a m H a l l e r , The Rise of P u r i t a n i s m : Or, the Way t o the New J e r u s a l e m as Set F o r t h i n P u l p i t and P r e s s from Thomas C a r t w r i g h t to John L i l b u r n e and John M i l t o n , 1570-1643 (New York: Columbia U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1938), p. 302. 18

Quoted i n H a l l e r , T h e . R i s e . o f P u r i t a n i s m , p.

138..

19 James R. S u t h e r l a n d , Defoe L i p p i n c o t t , 1938), p. 22. 20 21

( P h i l a d e l p h i a and New

See Novak, Economics, pp. 11,

York:

J.B.

160.

S u t h e r l a n d , p. 45.

22 D a n i e l Defoe, S e r i o u s R e f l e c t i o n s D u r i n g the L i f e and Surp r i s i n g Adventures o f Robinson Crusoe w i t h h i s V i s i o n of the A n g e l i c World, ed. George A. A i t k e n (London: J.M. Dent, 1895), pp. 115-16. A l l

159

subsequent r e f e r e n c e s to the Crusoe t r i l o g y (Part I : The L i f e and Strange S u r p r i s i n g Adventures of Robinson Crusoe; P a r t I I : The F a r t h e r Adventures of Robinson Crusoe; P a r t I I I : S e r i o u s R e f l e c t i o n s ) , which comprise the f i r s t t h r e e volumes o f A i t k e n ' s e d i t i o n o f the Romances and N a r r a t i v e s by D a n i e l Defoe (16 v o l s . ) > are noted p a r e n t h e t i c a l l y i n the t e x t by volume number ( I , I I , o r I I I ) and page. 23

Novak, Economics, p. i x .

CHAPTER I I

See Moore, p. 39; Diana Spearman, The Novel and S o c i e t y (London: Routledge and Kegan P a u l , 1966), p. 157; and H a l l e r , The R i s e of P u r i t a n i s m , pp. 16-17.2 George A. S t a r r , Defoe and C a s u i s t r y P r e s s , 1971), pp. x i - x i i . 3

(Princeton:

Princeton

University

S t a r r , Defoe and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography, p. x i .

4 For a p a r t i c u l a r d i s c u s s i o n o f t h i s theme, see S t a r r , and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography, pp. 5-11.

Defoe

"'john Bunyan, The P i l g r i m ' s P r o g r e s s from t h i s World to That which i s t o Come, ed. James B l a n t o n Wharey, 2nd ed., r e v . by Roger Sharrock (Oxford: Clarendon P r e s s , 1960), p. 32. H a l l e r , The R i s e of P u r i t a n i s m , pp. 95-96, 141-42. 7

See S t a r r , Defoe and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography, pp.

6-11.

g 9

1 (

.

1 1

Quoted

i n S t a r r , Defoe and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography, p. 20.

Quoted

i n S t a r r , Defoe and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography, p.

^ S t a r r , Defoe and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography., p. Robert

20.

40.

Sanderson, XXXVI Sermons (London: 1689), pp. 205,

215.

12 C h a r l e s and K a t h e r i n e George, The P r o t e s t a n t Mind o f the E n g l i s h Reformation: 1570-1640 ( P r i n c e t o n : P r i n c e t o n U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1961), p. 127.

160

13

The Workes o f that famovs and w o r t h y m i n i s t e r o f C h r i s t , i n the V n i u e r s i t i e s of Cambridge, Mr W i l l i a m P e r k i n s (London: P r i n t e d by I. L e g a t t , 1612-13), I , 750, 751. "^See Robert W. A y e r s , "Robinson Crusoe: H i s t o r y , ' " PMLA, 82 (1967), 401. " ^ H a l l e r , The R i s e o f P u r i t a n i s m , p. "^Quoted i n Hunter, p.

pp. 86,

1 9

S t a r r , Defoe and C a s u i s t r y , p.

H u n t e r , p.

368.

130..

"^John Goodman, The P e n i t e n t Pardon'd 87. 18

'Allusive Allegorick

04th ed. London:

1694),

182.

102.

20 N i g e l Dennis, Jonathan S w i f t . M a c M i l l a n , 1964), p. 125. 21 22

A Short C h a r a c t e r

(New

York:

Benjamin, pp. 206-07. Benjamin, p.

211.

23 Lynn White, J r . , "The H i s t o r i c a l Roots of Our E c o l o g i c C r i s i s , " S c i e n c e , 155 (March 10, 1967), 1206. 2 4

H u n t e r , p.

102.

25 Benjamin, p. 2 6

206.

W a t t , p. 70.

27 D a n i e l Defoe, C a l e d o n i a ; a poem i n honour o f S c o t l a n d and the Scots n a t i o n (Edinburgh: P r i n t e d by the h e i r s and s u c c e s s o r s o f A. Anderson, 1706), pp. 57, 59, 2. 2 8

W a t t , p. 86.

29 Novak, Economics, pp. 49, Watt, p. 65.

42.

161

31 32

R i c h a r d S i b b e s , The S p i r i t u a l l Man's Aime (London, 1637), p. 8.

H a l l e r , The R i s e o f P u r i t a n i s m , p.

33

123.

Quoted i n C h a r l e s and K a t h e r i n e George, p.

160.

34 H.M. Robertson, A s p e c t s of the R i s e o f Economic I n d i v i d u a l i s m : A C r i t i c i s m of Max Weber and h i s S c h o o l (1933; r p t . New York: Augustus M. K e l l e y , 1965), p. 166. 35 IV, 131. 36

3 7

R i c h a r d B a x t e r , The C h r i s t i a n D i r e c t o r y

(London, 1678),

Novak, Economics, p. 70.

Watt,

p. 61.

38 See Robertson, p. x i i ; Novak, Economics, pp. 3-31; and W i l l i a m L y t t o n Payne, Mr. Review: D a n i e l Defoe as Author of The Review (New York: King's Crown P r e s s , 1947), pp. 70-92. 39

Payne, Mr. Review, p. 92.

40 D a n i e l Defoe, Essay upon P r o j e c t s , e x c e r p t e d i n S e l e c t e d P o e t r y and Prose o f D a n i e l Defoe, ed. "Michael F. Shugrue (New York: H o l t , R i n e h a r t and Winston, 1968), p. 7. 41 II,

183. 42

D a n i e l Defoe, The Compleat

Defoe, The Compleat

English

Tradesman (London, 172 7),

E n g l i s h Tradesman,

I I , 149,

152.

A3 See George A. S t a r r . "Escape from Barbary: A SeventeenthCentury Genre," Huntington L i b r a r y Q u a r t e r l y , 29 (1965), 35-52. 44 45 46

S t a r r , Defoe and S p i r i t u a l Autobiography, p.

113.

Hunter,, p. 175. Novak, Economics, pp. 50, 51, 55.

^ M a r t i n J . G r e i f , "The C o n v e r s i o n o f Robinson Crusoe," S t u d i e s i n E n g l i s h L i t e r a t u r e 1500-1900, 4 (1966), 553.

162

48

Watt, p. 69.

49 A l a n Dugald M c K i l l o p , The E a r l y Masters of E n g l i s h U n i v e r s i t y o f Kansas. P r e s s , 1967), p. 24.

(Lawrence:

Fiction

~*^Martin P r i c e , To the P a l a c e o f Wisdom: S t u d i e s i n Order and Energy from Dryden to Blake (New York: Doubleday, 1964), p. 126. "'''"Robert A l a n Donovan, The Shaping V i s i o n : E n g l i s h Novel from Defoe to Dickens ( I t h a c a , N.Y.: P r e s s , 1966), p. 242.

I m a g i n a t i o n i n the Cornell University

CHAPTER I I I

E r n s t B e h l e r , "Ideas of the 'State o f N a t u r e ' and ' N a t u r a l Man' i n the A r a b i c T r a d i t i o n of the M i d d l e Ages and t h e i r e n t r a n c e i n t o Western Thought," A r c a d i a , 3 (1968), 22. 2 3

B e h l e r , p. 15. B e h l e r , p. 17.

4 Hans A a r s l e f f , "The S t a t e o f Nature and the Nature o f Man i n Locke," i n John Locke: Problems and P e r s p e c t i v e s ; A C o l l e c t i o n o f New E s s a y s , ed. John W. Y o l t o n (Cambridge: Cambridge U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1969), p. 100. ^Hugo von G r o t i u s , De Jure B e l l i ac P a c i s L i b r i Tres (The Law of War and Peace) , t r a n s . F r a n c i s W. K e l s e y et a l . ' ( I n d i a n a p o l i s : B o b b s - M e r r i l , 1925), pp. 38-39. ^ G r o t i u s , p. 15.. 7 Thomas Hobbes, L e v i a t h a n , o r the M a t t e r , Forme & Power of a Common-wealth E c c l e s i a s t i c a l l and C i v i l l , ed. C.B. MacPherson (Harmondsworth, M i d d l e s e x : Penguin Books, 1968), p.. 186.

g Quoted i n Novak, Defoe and the Nature o f Man,

p. 25.

9 John Plamenatz, Man and S o c i e t y : A C r i t i c a l Examination o f Some Important S o c i a l and P o l i t i c a l T h e o r i e s from M a c h i a v e l l i t o Marx (London: Longmans, Green, 1963), I , 212.

163

John Locke, Two T r e a t i s e s of Government, ed. P e t e r L a s l e t t (1960; r p t . New York and Toronto: The New American L i b r a r y , 1963), pp. 319-320. H e r e a f t e r c i t e d as Two T r e a t i s e s . 1

''""'"Quoted by L a s l e t t p.

i n "Introduction,"

Locke, Two

Treatises,

48. 12

Locke, Two

T r e a t i s e s , pp. 311,

312.

13 John Locke, Essay c o n c e r n i n g Human U n d e r s t a n d i n g , ed. John W. Y o l t o n (1961; r p t . London: J.M. Dent & Sons, 1967), Book IV, S e c t i o n x i v , Paragraphy 2. H e r e a f t e r c i t e d as Essay f o l l o w e d by Book, S e c t i o n , and Paragraph. 14 Locke, Essay, IV, x i i ,

2.

"'""'piamenatz, I , 222. "^Watt, p.

62.

"^Plamenatz,

I , 221.

18 Locke, Two T r e a t i s e s , pp. 328-39. C h r i s t o p h e r H i l l , The Century of R e v o l u t i o n , 1603-1714 London: Sphere Books, 1969), p. 220. 1 9

rpt.

20 pp.

1-2. 21

Henry

Overton, An Arrow A g a i n s t A l l T y r a n t s (London,

H a l l e r , The R i s e o f P u r i t a n i s m ,

pp. 86, 179,

(1961;

1646),

367.

22 See H.M. Robertson, Aspects of the R i s e o f Economic I n d i v i d u a l i s m ; C h r i s t o p h e r H i l l , The Century o f R e v o l u t i o n ; Maurice A s h l e y , England i n the Seventeenth Century; and C.B. MacPherson, The P o l i t i c a l Theory of P o s s e s s i v e I n d i v i d u a l i s m (Oxford: Clarendon P r e s s , 1962). 23

Locke, Two

T r e a t i s e s , p. 243.

^ L o c k e , Two

T r e a t i s e s , pp . 332-33

^ L o c k e , Two

T r e a t i s e s , p. 247.

164

26 (Oxford:

John Locke, Essays on the Law o f Nature, ed. Wolfgang Clarendon P r e s s , 1954), p. 31.

27 pp. 114-15.

See A a r s l e f f ' s essay i n John Locke:

Problems

von

Leyden

and P e r s p e c t i v e s ,

28 Jonathan B i s h o p , "Knowledge, A c t i o n , and I n t e r p r e t a t i o n i n Defoe's N o v e l s , " J o u r n a l of H i s t o r y of Ideas, 13 (1952), 6. 29

Quoted

i n Novak, Defoe and the Nature of Man,

^ D o n o v a n , p.

p.

9.

36.

31 MacPherson, The P o l i t i c a l Theory o f P o s s e s s i v e I n d i v i d u a l i s m , p. 3. 32 See P e t e r L a s l e t t , "John Locke, The Great Recoinage, and the O r i g i n s of the Board of Trade: 1695-1698," i n John Locke: Problems and P e r s p e c t i v e s , pp. 137-64. 33 W i l l i a m Lee, D a n i e l Defoe: Writings: E x t e n d i n g from 1716 t o 1729 1869), I I I , 469-70. 34

H i s L i f e , and R e c e n t l y D i s c o v e r e d (London: John Camden H o t t e n ,

Lee, I I , 353.

35 Frank H. E l l i s , " I n t r o d u c t i o n " i n T w e n t i e t h Century I n t e r p r e t a t i o n s o f Robinson Crusoe, ed. Frank H. E l l i s (Englewood C l i f f s , N.J.: P r e n t i c e - H a l l , 1969), p. 13.

Lawn, N.J.:

E.M.W. T i l l y a r d , The E p i c S t r a i n i n the E n g l i s h Novel E s s e n t i a l Books, 1958), p. 38.

(Fair

37 David I. G r o s s v o g e l , L i m i t s o f the N o v e l : E v o l u t i o n s o f a Form from Chaucer t o R o b b e - G r i l l e t ( I t h a c a , N.Y.: Cornell University P r e s s , 1968), p. 323. 38 John J . R i c h e t t i , P o p u l a r F i c t i o n B e f o r e R i c h a r d s o n : N a r r a t i v e P a t t e r n s , 1700-1739 (Oxford, Clarendon P r e s s , 1969), pp. 13, 15. 39

P r i c e , p.

273.

CHAPTER IV

Mark Schorer, "Technique (1948), 67, 69. McKillop, p. 24.

as Discovery," Hudson Review, 1

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