1731, owing to some strange
circumstance of which there is no record, died a lonely death at a
lodging-house at Moorfields. He has been called the father of the
English novel, and deserves the title, although on a slighter scale
Steele and Addison preceded him as writers of fiction. As a novelist he
is without refinement, without ideality, without passion; he looks at
life from a low level, but in the narrow territory of which he is
master--the art of realistic invention--his power of insight is
incontestible. Defoe adopted a method dear in our day to some of the
least worthy of French novelists, who while aiming to copy Nature debase
her. For Nature must be interpreted by Art, since only thus can we
obtain a likeness that shall be both beautiful and true. Defoe,
nevertheless, has contributed one book of lasting value to the
literature of his country, and such a gift, in the eyes of the literary
chronicler, hides a multitude of faults.

[Sidenote: John Dennis (1657-1733-4).]

John Dennis was born in London and educated at Harrow and Caius College,
Cambridge. His relations with Pope give him a more prominent position
among men of letters than he would otherwise deserve, and mark with
unpleasing distinctness the coarse methods of literary warfare adopted
in Pope's day. The poet began the attack in his _Essay on Criticism_.
Dennis had written a tragedy called _Appius and Virginia_, and Pope, who
had a grudge against him for not admiring his _Pastorals_, showed his
spite in the following lines:

'But Appius reddens at each word you speak,
And stares tremendous, with a threatening eye,
Like some fierce tyrant in old tapestry.'

It was perilous in Pope to allude to the personal defects of an
antagonist, and Dennis attacked him coarsely in return as a 'young,
squab, short gentleman, an eternal writer of amorous pastoral madrigals,
and the very bow of the god of Love.' 'He has reason,' he adds, 'to
thank the good gods that he was born a modern; for had he been born of
Grecian parents, and his father by consequence had by law the absolute
disposal of him, his life had been no longer than one of his poems--the
life of half a day.'

Dennis's pamphlet on the _Essay_ caused Pope some pain when he heard of
it, 'But it was quite over,' he told Spence, 'as soon as I came to look
into his book and found he was in such a passion.'

The critic, however, was a thorn in Pope's flesh for many a year, and
the poet showed h