eeable to him than it would have been to one of
less hardy temperament. Defoe was not the man to shrink with loathing
from the companionship of thieves, highwaymen, forgers, coiners, and
pirates. Curiosity was a much stronger power with him than disgust.
Newgate had something of the charm for Defoe that a hospital full of
hideous diseases has for an enthusiastic surgeon. He spent many pleasant
hours in listening to the tales of his adventurous fellow-prisoners.
Besides, the Government did not dare to deprive him of the liberty of
writing and publishing. This privilege enabled him to appeal to the
public, whose ear he had gained in the character of an undismayed
martyr, an enjoyment which to so buoyant a man must have compensated for
a great deal of irksome suffering, he attributed the failure of his
pantile works at Tilbury to his removal from the management of them; but
bearing in mind the amount of success that had attended his efforts when
he was free, it is fair to suppose that he was not altogether sorry for
the excuse. It was by no means the intention of his High-Church
persecutors that Defoe should enjoy himself in Newgate, and he himself
lamented loudly the strange reverse by which he had passed within a few
months from the closet of a king to a prisoner's cell; but on the whole
he was probably as happy in Newgate as he had been at Whitehall. His
wife and six children were most to be commiserated, and their distress
was his heaviest trial.

The first use which Defoe made of his pen after his exhibition in the
pillory was to reply to a Dissenting minister who had justified the
practice of occasional conformity. He thereby marked once more his
separation from the extreme Dissenters, who were struggling against
having their religion made a disqualification for offices of public
trust. But in the changes of parties at Court he soon found a reason for
marking his separation from the opposite extreme, and facing the other
way. Under the influence of the moderate Tories, Marlborough, Godolphin,
and their invaluable ally, the Duchess, the Queen was gradually losing
faith in the violent Tories. According to Swift, she began to dislike
her bosom friend, Mrs. Freeman, from the moment of her accession, but
though she may have chafed under the yoke of her favourite, she could
not at once shake off the domination of that imperious will. The
Duchess, finding the extreme Tories unfavourable to the war in which her
husband's hon