arily paid most of his creditors both the
principal and interest of their claims. This is such an example of
honesty as it would be unjust to De Foe and to the world to conceal. The
amount of the sums thus paid must have been very considerable, as he
afterwards feelingly mentions to Lord Haversham, who had reproached him
with covetousness; "With a numerous family, and no helps but my own
industry, I have forced my way through a sea of misfortunes, and reduced
my debts, exclusive of composition, from seventeen thousand to less than
five thousand pounds."

At the beginning of the year 1700, Mr. De Foe published a satire in
verse, which excited very considerable attention, called the "True-born
Englishman." Its purpose was to furnish a reply to those who were
continually abusing King William and some of his friends as
_foreigners_, by shewing that the present race of Englishmen was a mixed
and heterogeneous brood, scarcely any of which could lay claim to native
purity of blood. The satire was in many parts very severe; and though
it gave high offence, it claimed a considerable share of the public
attention. The reader will perhaps be gratified by a specimen of this
production, wherein he endeavours to account for--

"What makes this discontented land appear
Less happy now in times of peace, than war;
Why civil feuds disturb the nation more,
Than all our bloody wars had done before:
Fools out of favour grudge at knaves in place,
And men are always honest in disgrace:
The court preferments make men knaves in course,
But they, who would be in them, would be worse.
'Tis not at foreigners that we repine,
Would foreigners their perquisites resign:
The grand contention's plainly to be seen,
To get some men put out, and some put in."

It will be immediately perceived that De Foe could have no pretentious
to the character of a _poet_; but he has, notwithstanding, some nervous
and well-versified lines, and in choice of subject and moral he is in
general excellent. The True-born Englishman concludes thus:

Could but our ancestors retrieve their fate,
And see their offspring thus degenerate;
How we contend for birth and names unknown,
And build on their past actions, not our own;
They'd cancel records, and their tombs deface,
And openly disown the vile, degenerate race.
For fame of families is all a cheat;
'TIS PERSONAL VIRTUE