(_a_) _Political Writings._ Like most of the other writers of his time, Defoe turned out a mass of political tracts and pamphlets. Many of them appeared in his own journal, _The Review_, which, issued in 1704, is in several ways the forerunner of _The Tatler_ and _The Spectator_. His _Shortest Way with the Dissenters_ (1702) brought upon him official wrath, and caused him to be fined and pilloried. He wrote one or two of his political tracts in rough verses which are more remarkable for their vigor than for their elegance. The best known of this class is _The True-born Englishman_ (1701). In all his propaganda Defoe is vigorous and acute, and he has a fair command of irony and invective. (_b_) _His Fiction._ His works in fiction were all produced in the latter part of his life, at almost incredible speed. First came _Robinson Crusoe_ (1719); then _Duncan Campbell_, _Memoirs of a Cavalier_, and _Captain Singleton_, all three books in 1720; in 1722 appeared _Moll Flanders_, _A Journal of the Plague Year_, and _Colonel Jack_; then _Roxana_ (1724) and _A New Voyage round the World_ (1725). This great body of fiction has grave defects, largely due to the immense speed with which it was produced. The general plan of the novel in each case is slatternly and unequal; as, for example, in _Robinson Crusoe_, where the incomparable effect of the story of the island is marred by long and sometimes tedious narratives of other lands. Then the style is unpolished to the verge of rudeness. In homely and direct narrative this may not be a grave drawback, but it shuts Defoe out from a large province of fiction in which he might have done valuable work. But at its best, as in the finest parts of _Robinson Crusoe_, his writing has a realism that is rarely approached by the most ardent of modern realists. This is achieved by Defoe’s grasp of details and his unerring sense of their supreme literary value, a swift and resolute narrative method, and a plain and matter-of-fact style that inevitably lays incredulity asleep. To the development of the novel Defoe’s contribution is priceless. In the passage now given note Defoe’s completely unadorned style, the loosely constructed sentences, and the almost laughable attention to the minutest detail: I went to work upon this boat the most like a fool that ever man did who had any of his senses awake. I pleased myself with the design, without determining whether I was able to undertake it; not but that the difficulty of launching my boat came often into my head; but I put a stop to my own inquiries into it, by this foolish answer: Let us first make it: I warrant I will find some way or other to get it along when it is done.