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Ideology and structure in Robinson Crusoe : Dafoe's resolution of the trade-morality conflict Foster, James O. 1973

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IDEOLOGY AND STRUCTURE IN ROBINSON CRUSOE: DEFOE'S RESOLUTION OF THE TRADE-MORALITY CONFLICT  by  JAMES 0. FOSTER B.A., Willamette University, 1970  A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF / MASTER OF ARTS in the Department o of ENGLISH  We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA A p r i l , 1973  In presenting  this thesis in partial  fulfilment of the requirements for  an advanced degree at the University of B r i t i s h Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make i t f r e e l y available for reference  and  study.  I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may by his representatives.  be granted by the Head of my  Department or  It is understood that copying or publication  of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my written  permission.  Depa rtment The University of B r i t i s h Columbia Vancouver 8, Canada  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  iii  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  BIBLIOGRAPHY  Anderson,  Hans H. "The Paradox o f Trade and M o r a l i t y i n Defoe." 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