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Developing Moral Tolerance in the Early English Novel

 

Eighteenth century writers like Defoe and Richardson grappled with ethical issues in ways that were a marked departure from earlier, more dogmatic novelists. Social and technological developments were changing the moral values in a growing population known as the middle class who increasingly questioned strict Christian notions of right and wrong. In The Rise of the Novel  Ian Watt states this shift away from traditional  religious  thought,  known as secularization, is “a marked  feature of [the] age-- the word itself in its modern sense dates from the first decades of the eighteenth century”(91). The early English novel became a particularly rich medium for this rising secularism.

 

Moral statements in literature are inherently complex since it is not always easy to determine whose morality is being expressed and why. What is said by a character may or may not reflect that character's morality, just as it may or may not reflect that of the author. Even if one successfully attributes an ethical argument or position to a particular character or author, one is still faced with determining whether the intent was serious, comic, satiric or ironic. To further complicate questions regarding who said what and why, let us consider how moral statements can be about either an agent or an action; judgements are made either about a particular person and their motives for doing something (agent morality) or about what a person actually does (action morality).

 

Pilgrim's Progress, often considered to be the first English novel, is a religious allegory which presents moral messages in a relatively simple and straight-forward way by using stock figures to symbolize Puritan values. Without a doubt the values expressed, however allusively, are those of the writer: the epilogue says that to help people “turn their feet and heart to the right way, Is the hearty prayer of the author, John Bunyan” (288).  Likewise it is clear the story is meant to support orthodoxy rather than to reform or attack any deficiencies in prevailing moral standards, as is typical of later novelists. Not only is Bunyan sincere in his use of allegorically obvious characters for a didactic moral purpose, he is also clear on the point that agent and action morality are two sides of the same sterling coin of virtue, as can be seen in the figures of Piety and Charity. Appointed to discourse with the protagonist Christian, the first question that Piety asks addresses the issue of the active moral agent: “What moved you at first to betake yourself to a pilgrim's life?”(47). Here the word “moved” refers to Christian's motivation and the focus is upon why he does what he does. While Piety symbolizes virtuous motives, the equally wooden character of Charity is more representative of virtuous action.  When Charity comments on Cain, who has rather uncharitably “hated his brother because his own works are evil” (51), the word “works” evokes the principle that any given action reflects virtue or vice in the agent. For example, one might give money to a charitable organization, ostensibly a good act, but to do so in order to receive in return a tax credit is hardly a praiseworthy motive.

 

By the eighteenth century Christianity was waning, especially in London. Watt notes that this “decline of religious values in the town made way for the supremacy of material values, a supremacy that was symbolized in the way that London was rebuilt after the Great Fire: under the new plan it was the Royal Exchange and not St. Paul's which became the architectural focus of the City”(203). During this time Daniel Defoe, another originator of the English novel, wrote Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders, works which “embodied the struggle between Puritanism and the tendency to secularization” (93). Although Defoe is usually viewed ironically today (249) his novels convey a serious intention: he sought to unite the Puritanical moral code with contrary notions of economic individualism, the work ethic, and British colonialism. The resulting clash in ideology can be seen in how “a Defoe character on the make illustrates the mixed nature of man; the profit motive is natural, and yet when pushed far enough it comes into conflict with accepted standards of morality and religion” (McKillop 20).

 

Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders are morally ambivalent characters because they repeatedly express their repentance for being avaricious, like a good Christian, and yet do all they can to acquire material possessions, as does a good capitalist. A famous instance occurs when Crusoe, after finding some gold in a ship-wreck, speaks like an Apostle against the value of money and is about to toss them away but immediately has “second thoughts” and pockets the coins instead (Defoe 60). Moll Flanders likewise is far from being a moral model because  her “penitent prosperity...is based on  her  criminal career, and the sincerity of her reformation is never put to the acid test of sacrificing material for moral good”(Watt 129). Watt adds that Defoe may have been hindered in his moralizing because the novelist was “faced with the problem of how to impose a coherent moral structure on narrative without detracting from its air of literal authenticity” (131). But despite the rather transparent prefaces claiming both works to be the actual memoirs of real people, there is no real distancing of the author or his persona from his characters busily engaged in the pursuit of material wealth. In Defoe one can see why St. Paul's was replaced by the Royal Exchange.

 

Unlike the good Pilgrim, Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders are clearly not paragons of Christian virtue but are instead more like champions of the values of capitalism. Robinson Crusoe is a “universal representative” (87) only in that he colonizes his island and seeks to convert the islanders into English subjects. And even if the thief Moll is “less acceptable as at once human being and archetype”(Rexroth 310) than the haplessly marooned Crusoe, we sympathize with her because she becomes a criminal out of necessity due to the limited economic means available to a single woman in eighteenth century London. Although not physically isolated from humanity as was Crusoe, Moll is equally a social outcast, in her case because of her illegitimate birth. She survives through selfish and ruthless determination, the qualities of a successful capitalist. Whether Defoe meant the material-minded Moll to be a genuine bourgeois heroine or the typical literary picara of disreputable moral character is debatable. Or perhaps Defoe intended an ironic criticism of capitalistic morality. It is likely, however, that Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders were meant to be simple, even allegorical figures reflecting a sincere morality in an era of changing social values. What is certain is that Defoe departs from Bunyan-like moral simplicity with regard to agent and action morality. For example, Robinson Crusoe sells the `slave Xury and takes possession of “his” man Friday (Watt 76), revealing how he views people as commodities to be bought and sold. In terms of Christian morality, both the agent and the action of slavery are wrong. However, in terms of capitalistic morality, though the action of slavery may still be considered wrong, one cannot condemn the agent Crusoe because, as homo economicus, Crusoe is acting in accordance with the monetary principles of economic individualism. Unlike dogmatic Puritanism which holds that good intentions cannot justify an evil act, Defoe’s either inconsistent or ironic morality enables the profit motive to almost justify things like slavery, the subjugation of the working class, and colonialism.

 

Samuel Richardson’s Pamela was written in a time when, along with the Christian-secular and spiritual-material conflicts faced by Defoe and his characters, people were struggling with huge shifts in social structure. Richardson sought to increase awareness and understanding about problems facing women. His female protagonist is caught between two conflicting roles: that of the obedient servant-wife and that of the new, liberated woman. Pamela's struggle with opposing value systems makes her Christian-gone-capitalist morality almost believable and perhaps even acceptable. Though hardly exemplary as a guide to the good life, as a very young, sensitive girl, experiencing for the first time “the moral complexities and inconsistencies that make up actual adult life,...nothing is more natural than in times of confusion and peril she should take refuge in a stubbornly materialistic morality (Cowler 9). Pamela's struggle to preserve her virtue in defiance of her social obligations as a female servant reflects a simple religious precept: she is a morally good agent for defending her chastity. However, by returning to the clutches of Mr. B., she shows an even higher regard for materialism and high society. Like Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders, Pamela’s actions are defensible on the grounds of self-preservation and the need to survive in a materialistic world--surely matters more important than virginity.

 

The “Virtue Rewarded” subtitle of Pamela suggests it is a straight-forward moral lesson in economic individualism but, as with Defoe, we find more moral questions than answers. Pamela's ostensibly virtuous behaviour is ironically undercut when, for example, she writes, after coming around to accept Mr. B. despite his meanness and after  hearing mention of matrimony,  `now was I again struck all of a heap. However, soon recollecting myself...'(229). Pamela's jump here from emotional chaos to sudden composure may cause us to consider the ambiguous possibilities of her intentions as well as those of the author, especially given the loudly stated didactic intent of showing how virtue is rewarded. However, David Daiches argues that it is uncertain to what extent Richardson was aware of what he was doing, and that his novels are “more complex than he ever seems to have realized, works of art by accident, one might almost say, like Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress” (16-7). Nevertheless, Richardson's morality, whether intended or not, surpasses the simplicity of Bunyan and the inconsistency of Defoe in the sense that it unites secular practicality and Puritan spirituality into a relatively complex and realistic moral code. Daiches himself appreciates the considerable subtlety with which Richardson unites spirituality with practicality by manipulating moral ideas into formulas like `Prudence guarantees earthly happiness while virtue guarantees heavenly happiness, and the truly fortunate are those to whom circumstances allow both” (19).

 

Richardson brings the novel to the highest level of moral maturity: his work embodies a certain tolerance for the situation of others and a sincere desire to explore ethical uncertainties. While Pamela may very well have unscrupulously fought to preserve her chastity in order to ensnare a rich husband, she was at the same time struggling for psychological and social survival. It is hard to resist being drawn in by such complex, unheroic characters. Their virtues and vices are so intriguingly portrayed that we eagerly seek out their progeny in the rich tradition of the English novel.

 

 

 

 

                   BIBLIOGRAPHY

 

 

 

          Bunyan, John. Pilgrim's Progress.

               Westwood, N.J.: Pyramid Publications. 1968.

 

 

         Daiches, David. "Samuel Richardson." Pamela: A Collection of

               Critical Essays.  Ed. Rosemary Cowler. Englewood Cliffs:

               Prentice-Hall. 1969.

 

 

          Defoe, Daniel. Robinson Crusoe.

               Scarborough, Ont.: Signet. 1960.

 

 

          McKillop. The Early Masters of English Fiction.

               University of Kansas Press  1962.

 

 

          Rexroth, Kenneth. Afterword. Moll Flanders. By Daniel Defoe

               Scarborough, Ont.:Signet. 1964.

 

 

          Sale, William M. Introduction. Pamela. By Samuel Richardson.

               New York: W.W.Norton. 1958.

 

 

          Watt, Ian. The Rise of the Novel.

               Markam, Ontario: Penguin Books. 1985.