looks at the
matter in a purely business-like point of view. It is very wrong to
steal, or break any of the commandments: partly because the chances are
that it won't pay, and partly also because the devil will doubtless get
hold of you in time. But a villain in De Foe is extremely like a
virtuous person, only that, so to speak, he has unluckily backed the
losing side. Thus, for example, Colonel Jack is a thief from his youth
up; Moll Flanders is a thief, and worse; Roxana is a highly immoral
lady, and is under some suspicion of a most detestable murder; and
Captain Singleton is a pirate of the genuine buccaneering school. Yet we
should really doubt, but for their own confessions, whether they have
villainy enough amongst them to furnish an average pickpocket. Roxana
occasionally talks about a hell within, and even has unpleasant dreams
concerning 'apparitions of devils and monsters, of falling into gulphs,
and from off high and steep precipices.' She has, moreover, excellent
reasons for her discomfort. Still, in spite of a very erroneous course
of practice, her moral tone is all that can be desired. She discourses
about the importance of keeping to the paths of virtue with the most
exemplary punctuality, though she does not find them convenient for her
own personal use. Colonel Jack is a young Arab of the streets--as it is
fashionable to call them now-a-days--sleeping in the ashes of a
glasshouse by night, and consorting with thieves by day. Still the
exemplary nature of his sentiments would go far to establish Lord
Palmerston's rather heterodox theory of the innate goodness of man. He
talks like a book from his earliest infancy. He once forgets himself so
far as to rob a couple of poor women on the highway instead of picking
rich men's pockets; but his conscience pricks him so much that he cannot
rest till he has restored the money. Captain Singleton is a still more
striking case: he is a pirate by trade, but with a strong resemblance to
the ordinary British merchant in his habits of thought. He ultimately
retires from a business in which the risks are too great for his taste,
marries, and settles down quietly on his savings. There is a certain
Quaker who joins his ship, really as a volunteer, but under a show of
compulsion, in order to avoid the possible inconveniences of a capture.
The Quaker always advises him in his difficulties in such a way as to
avoid responsibility. When they are in action with a Portuguese
ma