It's a fascinating pen-picture of England in the early seventeenth century, where urban social networks were small and intimate enough that you could steal from a shop at one end of town and sell your loot to their competitor at the other; where constables were aware enough of the rights of citizens under the law to be easily intimidated by a sharp-witted suspect; where people would invest wealth not only in hard cash ("which every one knows is an unprofitable cargo to be carried to the plantations") but also in jewels, silver plate, cloth and easily portable luxury goods. One thing that hasn't changed, which she reflects on bitterly in the gap between husbands two and three (I think - again, I had already lost count) is the differential social power between women and men, even allowing for economic factors; Defoe verges on feminism in a couple of passages.
Anyway, very strongly recommended, if you like "continu'd Variety"; and who doesn't?