or St Dennis, a famous town of the Isle of France, with a Benedictine abbey, wherein are the tombs of the kings of France, with a considerable treasure. E. Long. 2. 26. N. Lat. 48. 56.

Dennis (John), the celebrated critic, was the son of a reputable tradesman in London, and born in the year 1657. He received the first branches of education at the great school in Harrow on the Hill, where he commenced acquaintance and intimacy with many young noblemen and gentlemen, who afterwards made considerable figures in public affairs, whereby he laid the foundation of a very strong and extensive interest, which might, but for his own fault, have been of infinite... nite use to him in future life. From Harrow he went to Caius-college Cambridge; where, after his proper standing, he took the degree of bachelor of arts. When he quitted the university, he made the tour of Europe; in the course of which he conceived such a detestation for despotism, as confirmed him still more in those Whig principles which he had from his infancy imbibed.

On his return to England he became early acquainted with Dryden, Wycherly, Congreve, and Southerne; whose conversation inspiring him with a passion for poetry, and a contempt for every attainment that had not something of the belles lettres, diverted him from the acquisition of any profitable art, or the exercise of any profession. This, to a man who had not an independent income, was undoubtedly a misfortune; however, his zeal for the Protestant succession having recommended him to the patronage of the duke of Marlborough, that nobleman procured him a place in the customs worth £120 per annum; which he enjoyed for some years, till from profusion and want of economy, he was reduced to the necessity of disposing of it to satisfy some very pressing demands. By the advice of Lord Halifax, however, he referred to himself, in the sale of it, an annuity for a term of years; which term he outlived, and was, in the decline of his life, reduced to extreme necessity.

Mr Theo. Cibber relates an anecdote of him, which we cannot avoid repeating, as it is not only highly characteristic of the man whose affairs we are now considering, but also a striking and melancholy instance, among thousands, of the distressful predicaments into which men of genius and literary abilities are perhaps apter than any others to plunge themselves, by paying too slight an attention to the common concerns of life, and their own most important interests. "After that he was worn out (says that author) with age and poverty, he resided within the verge of the court, to prevent danger from his creditors. One Saturday night he happened to saunter to a public house, which in a short time he discovered to be without the verge. He was sitting in an open drinking-room, when a man of a suspicious appearance happened to come in. There was something about the man which denoted to Mr Dennis that he was a bailiff. This struck him with a panic; he was afraid his liberty was at an end; he sat in the utmost solicitude, but durst not offer to stir lest he should be seized upon. After an hour or two had passed in this painful anxiety, at last the clock struck twelve; when Mr Dennis, in an ecstacy, cried out, addressing himself to the suspected person, "Now, Sir, bailiff or no bailiff, I don't care a farthing for you, you have no power now." The man was astonished at his behaviour; and when it was explained to him, was so much affronted with the suspicion, that had not Mr Dennis found his protection in age, he would probably have smarted for his mistaken opinion. A strong picture of the effects of fear and apprehension, in a temper naturally so timorous and jealous as Mr Dennis's; of which the following is a still more whimsical instance. In 1704 came out his favourite tragedy, Liberty Afflicted; in which were so many strokes on the French nation, that he thought they were never to be forgiven. He had worked himself into a persuasion that the king of France would insist on his being delivered up, before he would consent to a peace: and full of this idea of his own importance, when the congress was held at Utrecht, he is said to have waited on his patron the duke of Marlborough, to desire that no such article might be stipulated. The duke told him he really had no interest then with the ministry; but had made no such provision for his own security, though he could not help thinking he had done the French as much injury as Mr Dennis himself. Another story relating to this affair is, that being at a gentleman's house on the coast of Sussex, and walking one day on the sea-shore, he saw a ship sailing, as he fancied, towards him: he instantly set out for London, in the fancy that he was betrayed; and, congratulating himself on his escape, gave out that his friend had decoyed him down to his house, to surrender him up to the French.

Mr Dennis, partly through a natural peevishness and petulance of temper, and partly perhaps for the sake of procuring the means of subsistence, was continually engaged in a paper-war with his contemporaries, whom he ever treated with the utmost severity: and, though many of his observations were judicious, yet he usually conveyed them in language so scurrilous and abusive, as destroyed their intended effect; and as his attacks were almost always on persons of superior abilities to himself, viz. Addison, Steele, and Pope, their replies usually turned the popular opinion so greatly against him, that, by irritating his petty temper the more, it rendered him a perpetual torment to himself; till at length, after a long life of vicissitudes, disappointments, and turmoils, rendered wretched by indiscipline, and hateful by malevolence, having outlived the reverence of his estate, and reduced to distress, from which his having been daily creating enemies had left him scarcely any hopes of relief, he was compelled to what must be the most irksome situation that can be conceived in human life, the receiving obligations from those whom he had been continually treating ill. In the very close of his days, a play was acted for his benefit at the little theatre in the Hay-market, procured through the united intercessions of Messrs Thomson, Mallet, and Pope; the last of whom, notwithstanding the gross manner in which Mr Dennis had on many occasions used him, and the long warfare that had subsisted between them, interested himself very warmly for him; and even wrote an occasional prologue to the play, which was spoken by Mr Cibber. Not long after this, viz. on the 6th of January 1733, he died, being then in the 77th year of his age.

Mr Dennis certainly was possessed of much erudition, and a considerable share of genius. In prose, he is far from a bad writer, where abuse or personal scurrility does not mingle itself with his language. In verse, he is extremely unequal; his numbers being at some times spirited and harmonious, and his subjects elevated and judicious; and at others, flat, harsh, and puerile.—As a dramatic author, he certainly deserves not to be held in any consideration. It was justly said of him by a wit, that he was the most complete instructor for a dramatic poet, since he could teach him to distinguish good plays by his precepts, and bad ones by his examples.