Factual Writing

Centenaries and similar anniversaries are intriguing celebrations. They recall deeds of the past which easily would be lost for ever in the fleeting passage of time, and provide a unique opportunity for reflection and overall assessment of character that a birthday remembrance must always pre­clude.

Among those whose birth is so remem­bered this year—in his case the 300th anniversary—is Daniel Defoe. A man of great ability, of many parts, and certainly of courage—being put into the pillory for an anti-Tory pamphlet did not deter him—he combined a curious appreciation of religion with an astonishing display of inconsistency in its application, that is not at all uncom­mon. We could not, with the best will in the world, call him a Christian hero. Never­theless, despite his shortcomings, he should not be overlooked. A Christian who re­fused to take note of the practical wisdom of the wicked Ahab when Benhadad made unreasonable demands upon him would be very foolish indeed.

Ahab, obviously fearful of Benhadad’s strength at the first suddenly threw all fears to the wind when he felt his adversary had gone beyond the limits of human endurance and sent the reply, “Let not him that girdeth on his harness boast himself as he that put­teth it off” (I Kings 20. 12) Such a demon­stration of, “Do it first and shout after­wards”, is worthy of our attention even though it came from reprobate lips.

Defoe had a facile pen, which flowed at great speed on a remarkably wide range of subjects. Of the novels he wrote, one, by human standards, is ageless : Robinson Crusoe.

It is 50 years since my parents gave me a copy as a birthday gift. I was absorbed at the time, and little did I know that I had read a reliable account of Roman Catholic baptism. Looking at the book again I am beginning to wonder if it was intended for boys. In after years a devout Catholic, Edward Hutton, in Catholicism and English Literature, drew my attention to it.

Now Defoe was an able journalist and evidently had respect to the principles of his craft. He appears to have been a man who knew and practised that the real basis of news is fact, unembellished and without distortion. He happened, too, to be an anti-Papist. Everyman’s Library has pub­lished two volumes of Defoe’s, “A Tour of England and Wales”, and there is neither over elaboration nor exaggeration in his concise and pithy record. When he discusses the universities of Oxford and Cambridge there is a sharp edge to his comment that rings true.

“After paying tribute to the “piety of Popish times” in which the universities were founded, he adds that though the foundations of those institutions had stood for 850 years, “the Reformation, as they say, is not yet of 255 years standing, yet learning has more increased and the universities flourished more ; more great scholars been produced and the Protestant’s gifts are merely acts of charity to the world, and acts of bounty, in reverence to learning and learned men, without the grand excitement of the health of their souls, and the souls of their fathers, to be prayed out of purgatory and get a ready admission into heaven and the like”.

However, in the story of Robinson Crusoe there is a man named Will Atkins aspiring to marry a coloured woman, who appears to be a convert to the ‘Christian’ religion. The necessity of baptism is recog­nised. At this point a young Roman Catholic priest comes on to the scene. He is asked to perform the rite, but not as a Catholic.The priest makes an excuse for his agreement. He has no consecrated table, nor proper things for his office, and the woman does not become a Catholic.

Crusoe says of the priest, “Such a sermon was never preached by a Popish priest in these latter ages of the world ; and, as I told him, I thought he had all the zeal, all the knowledge, all the sincerity of a Christian without the error of a Roman Catholic ; and that I took him to be a clergyman as the Roman bishops were, before the Church of Rome assumed spiritual sovereignty over the consciences of men.” Of the actual ceremony, Defoe says, “For saying only some words over to himself in Latin, which I could not understand, he poured a whole dishful of water upon the woman’s head .  .”

Edward Hutton, himself an author of repute, said that although we may smile at the reference to a “whole dishful of water,” “it proves that Defoe knew a Catholic baptism when he saw one.”

Defoe was a man with an eye for detail who, despite the fancies he may have dev­eloped in the story, had his facts right. This is why we place so much emphasis on the whole matter.

Hutton’s book was written to show Englishmen—and Protestants in particular—the great debt that was owed to Roman Catholic scholarship in English literature. And he quotes a book that is read only by schoolboys to help prove his argument

Some might ask why this subject is raised. We repeat that it is to lay emphasis on the need to be factual in all our state­ments. How often do we hear the religious beliefs of others misquoted and passed off for truth ? Apart from the lack of courtesy in neglecting to make sure of what we say, the Brotherhood may be brought into dis­repute by inaccuracies.

Although Defoe may be quite ardent in his opposition to Catholicism, he obviously had taken the trouble to get his facts right—and facts should form the basis of all our discussions and statement. He had respect to the spirit of another wise man, C. P. Scott, of the Manchester Guardian, one of the greatest newspaper editors the world has seen, whose dictum was, “Facts are sacred, comment is free.”