Singleton through terror at the fire-cloud (page 222); and to the extraordinarily picturesque conversation between William and the captive Dutchman (page 264). Finally, if the reader wishes to taste Defoe's flavour in its perfection let him examine carefully those passages in the concluding twenty pages of the book, wherein Captain Singleton is shown as awakening to the wickedness of his past life, and the admirable dry reasoning of William by which the Quaker prevents him from committing suicide and persuades him to keep his ill-gotten wealth, "with a resolution to do what right with it we are able; and who knows what opportunity Providence may put into our hands.... As it is without doubt, our present business is to go to some place of safety, where we may wait His will." How admirable is the passage about William's sister, the widow with four children who kept a little shop in the Minories, and that in which the penitent ex-pirates are shown us as hesitating in Venice for two years before they durst venture to England for fear of the gallows.

"Captain Singleton" was published in 1720, a year after "Robinson Crusoe," when Defoe was fifty-nine. Twenty years before had seen "The True-Born Englishman" and "The Shortest Way with the Dissenters"; and we are told that from "June 1687 to almost the very week of his death in 1731 a stream of controversial books and pamphlets poured from his pen commenting upon and marking every important passing event." The fecundity of Defoe as a journalist alone surpasses that of any great journalist we can name, William Cobbett not excepted, and we may add that the style of "Captain Singleton," like that of "Robinson Crusoe," is so perfect that there is not a single ineffective passage, or indeed a weak sentence, to be found in the book.

EDWARD GARNETT.

The following is a list of Defoe's works: "New Discovery of Old Intrigue" (verse), 1691. "Character of Dr. Samuel Annesley" (verse), 1697. "The Pacificator" (verse), 1700. "True-Born Englishman" (verse), 1701. "The Mock Mourners" (verse), 1702. "Reformation of Manners" (verse), 1702. "New Test of Church of England's Loyalty," 1702. "Shortest Way with the Dissenters," 1702. "Ode to the Athenian Society," 1703. "Enquiry into Acgill's General Translation," 1703. "More Reformation" (verse), 1703. "Hymn to the Pillory," 1703. "The Storm" (Tale), 1704. "Layman's Sermon on the Late Storm," 1704. "The Consolidator; or, Memoirs of Sundry Transactions from the World in the Moon," 1704. "Elegy on Author of 'True-Born Englishman,'" 1704. "Hymn to Victory," 1704. "Giving Alms no Charity," 1704. "The Dyet of Poland" (verse), 1705. "Apparition of Mrs. Veal," 1706. "Sermon on the Filling-up of Dr. Burgess's Meeting-house," 1706. "Jure Divino" (verse), 1706. "Caledonia" (verse), 1706. "History of the Union of Great Britain," 1709. "Short Enquiry into a Late Duel," 1713. "A General History of Trade," 1713. "Wars of Charles III.," 1715. "The Family Instruction" (two eds.), 1715. "Hymn to the Mob," 1715. "Memoirs of the Church of Scotland," 1717. "Life and Death of Count Patkul," 1717. "Memoirs of Duke of Shrewsbury," 1718. "Memoirs of Daniel Williams," 1718. "The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Mariner," 1719. "The Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe," 1719. "The Dumb Philosopher: or, Great Britain's Wonder," 1719. "The King of Pirates" (Capt. Avery), 1719. "Life of Baron de Goertz," 1719. "Life and Adventures of Duncan Campbell," 1720. "Mr. Campbell's Pacquet," 1720. "Memoirs of a Cavalier," 1720. "Life of Captain Singleton," 1720. "Serious Reflections during the Life and Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe," 1720. "The Supernatural Philosopher; or, The Mysteries of Magick," 1720. Translation of Du Fresnoy's "Compleat Art of Painting" (verse), 1720. "Moll Flanders," 1722, "Journal of the Plague Year," 1722. "Due Preparations for the Plague," 1722. "Life of Cartouche," 1722. "History of Colonel Jacque," 1722. "Religious Courtship," 1722. "History of Peter the Great," 1723. "The Highland Rogue" (Rob Roy), 1723. "The Fortunate Mistress" (Roxana), 1724. "Narrative of Murders at Calais," 1724. "Life of John Sheppard," 1724. "Robberies, Escapes, &c., of John Sheppard," 1724. "The Great Law of Subordination; or, The Insolence and Insufferable Behaviour of Servants in England," 1724. "A Tour through Great Britain," 1724-6. "New Voyage Round the World," 1725. "Account of Jonathan Wild," 1725. "Account of John Gow," 1725. "Everybody's Business is Nobody's Business" (on Servants), 1725. "The Complete English Tradesman," 1725; vol. ii., 1727. "The Friendly Demon," 1726. "Mere Nature Delineated" (Peter the Wild Boy), 1726. "Political History of the Devil," 1726. "Essay upon Literature and the Original of Letters," 1726. "History of Discoveries," 1726-7. "The Protestant Monastery," 1726. "A System of Magic," 1726. "Parochial Tyranny," 1727. "Treatise concerning Use and Abuse of Marriage," 1727. "Secrets of Invisible World Discovered; or, History and Reality of Apparitions," 1727, 1728. "A New Family Instructor," 1728. "Augusta Triumphans," 1728. "Plan of English Commerce," 1728. "Second Thoughts are Best" (on Street Robberies), 1728. "Street Robberies Considered," 1728. "Humble Proposal to People of England for Increase of Trade, &c.," 1729. "Preface to R. Dodsley's Poem 'Servitude'" 1729. "Effectual Scheme for Preventing Street Robberies," 1731.

Besides the above-named publications a large number of further tracts by Defoe are extant, on matters of Politics and Church.

THE LIFE, ADVENTURES, AND PIRACIES OF CAPTAIN SINGLETON

As it is usual for great persons, whose lives have been remarkable, and whose actions deserve recording to posterity, to insist much upon their originals, give full accounts of their families, and the histories of their ancestors, so, that I may be methodical, I shall do the same, though I can look but a very little way into my pedigree, as you will see presently.

If I may believe the woman whom I was taught to call mother, I was a little boy, of about two years old, very well dressed, had a nursery-maid to attend me, who took me out on a fine summer's evening into the fields towards Islington, as she pretended, to give the child some air; a little girl being with her, of twelve or fourteen years old, that lived in the neighbourhood. The maid, whether by appointment or otherwise, meets with a fellow, her sweetheart, as I suppose; he carries her into a public-house, to give her a pot and a cake; and while they were toying in the house the girl plays about, with me in her hand, in the garden and at the door, sometimes in sight, sometimes out of sight, thinking no harm.

At this juncture comes by one of those sort of people who, it seems, made it their business to spirit away little children. This was a hellish trade in those days, and chiefly practised where they found little children very well dressed, or for bigger children, to sell them to the plantations.

The woman, pretending to take me up in her arms and kiss me, and play with me, draws the girl a good way from the house, till at last she makes a fine story to the girl, and bids her go back to the maid, and tell her where she was with the child; that a gentlewoman had taken a fancy to the child, and was kissing of it, but she should not be frighted, or to that purpose; for they were but just there; and so, while the girl went, she carries me quite away.

From this time, it seems, I was disposed of to a beggar woman that wanted a pretty little child to set out her case; and after that, to a gipsy, under whose government I continued till I was about six years old. And this woman, though I was continually dragged about with her from one part of the country to another, yet never let me want for anything; and I called her mother; though she told me at last she was not my mother, but that she bought me for twelve shillings of another woman, who told her how she came by me, and told her that my name was Bob Singleton, not Robert, but plain Bob; for it seems they never knew by what name I was christened.

It is in vain to reflect here, what a terrible fright the careless hussy was in that lost me; what treatment she received from my justly enraged father and mother, and the horror these must be in at the thoughts of their child being thus carried away; for as I never knew anything of the matter, but just what I have related, nor who my father and mother were, so it would make but a needless digression to talk of it here.

My good gipsy mother, for some of her worthy actions no doubt, happened in process of time to be hanged; and as this fell out something too soon for me to be perfected in the strolling trade, the parish where I was left, which for my life I can't remember, took some care of me, to be sure; for the first thing I can remember of myself afterwards, was, that I went to a parish school, and the minister of the parish used to talk to me to be a good boy; and that, though I was but a poor boy, if I minded my book, and served God, I might make a good man.

I believe I was frequently removed from one town to another, perhaps as the parishes disputed my supposed mother's last settlement. Whether I was so shifted by passes, or otherwise, I know not; but the town where I last was kept, whatever its name was, must be not far off from the seaside; for a master of a ship who took a fancy to me, was the first that brought me to a place not far from Southampton, which I afterwards knew to be Bussleton; and there I attended the carpenters, and such people as were employed in building a ship for him; and when it was done, though I was not above twelve years old, he carried me to sea with him on a voyage to Newfoundland.

I lived well enough, and pleased my master so well that he called me his own boy; and I would have called him father, but he would not allow it, for he had children of his own. I went three or four voyages with him, and grew a great sturdy boy, when, coming home again from the banks of Newfoundland, we were taken by an Algerine rover, or man-of-war; which, if my account stands right, was about the year 1695, for you may be sure I kept no journal.

I was not much concerned at the disaster, though I saw my master, after having been wounded by a splinter in the head during the engagement, very barbarously used by the Turks; I say, I was not much concerned, till, upon some unlucky thing I said, which, as I remember, was about abusing my master, they took me and beat me most unmercifully with a flat stick on the soles of my feet, so that I could neither go or stand for several days together.

But my good fortune was my friend upon this occasion; for, as they were sailing away with our ship in tow as a prize, steering for the Straits, and in sight of the bay of Cadiz, the Turkish rover was attacked by two great Portuguese men-of-war, and taken and carried into Lisbon.

As I was not much concerned at my captivity, not indeed understanding the consequences of it, if it had continued, so I was not suitably sensible of my deliverance; nor, indeed, was it so much a deliverance to me as it would otherwise have been, for my master, who was the only friend I had in the world, died at Lisbon of his wounds; and I being then almost reduced to my primitive state, viz., of starving, had this addition to it, that it was in a foreign country too, where I knew nobody and could not speak a word of their language. However, I fared better here than I had reason to expect; for when all the rest of our men had their liberty to go where they would, I, that knew not whither to go, stayed in the ship for several days, till at length one of the lieutenants seeing me, inquired what that young English dog did there, and why they did not turn him on shore.

I heard him, and partly understood what he meant, though not what he said, and began then to be in a terrible fright; for I knew not where to get a bit of bread; when the pilot of the ship, an old seaman, seeing me look very dull, came to me, and speaking broken English to me, told me I must be