ively
dislike, founded possibly on some of his early business experiences. The
reader will remember the dignified and courteous demeanor of the
Spaniards in 'Robinson Crusoe'; and although the violent antipathy of
the previous generation to Spanish Romanists had abated, Defoe's freedom
from insular prejudice is noteworthy, the more so that a "discreet and
sober bearing," such as he gives his Spaniards, seems to have been his
ideal of conduct. Defoe is a great journalist, and although he is a
typical hack, writing timely articles for pay, he has a touch of genius.
He was always successful in gaining the ear of his public; and in the
one instance where he hit upon a subject of universal interest, the life
of the solitary castaway thrown absolutely on his own resources, he
wrote a book, without any effort or departure from his usual style,
which has been as popular with succeeding generations as it was with his
own. It is a mistake to call 'Robinson Crusoe' a "great boy's
book,"--unless we regard the boy nature as persistent in all men, and
perhaps it is in all healthy men,--for it treats the unaided conflict
with nature and circumstance, which is the essence of adult life, with
unequaled simplicity and force. Crusoe is not merely an adventurer; he
is the human will, courage, resolution, stripped of all the adventitious
support of society. He has the elements of universal humanity, though in
detail he is as distinctly English as Odysseus is Greek.

The characters of Defoe's other novels--Colonel Jack, Captain Singleton,
Moll Flanders, and Roxana--are so repulsive, and so entirely unaware of
their repulsiveness, that we can take little interest in them. Possibly
an exception might be made in favor of Colonel Jack, who evinces at
times an amusing humor. All are criminals, and the conflict of the
criminal with the forces of society may be the subject of the most
powerful fiction. But these books are inartistic in several regards. No
criminals, even allowing them to be hypocrites, ever disclose themselves
in the open-hearted manner of these autobiographers. Vice always pays to
virtue the homage of a certain reticence in details. Despite all his
Newgate experiences and his acquaintance with noted felons, Defoe never
understood either the weakness or the strength of the criminal type. So
all his harlots and thieves and outcasts are decidedly amateurish. A
serious transgression of the moral law is to them a very slight matter,
to