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These particulars we have extracted from an elegant memoir of her life prefixed to the last edition of her works by the rev. Montague Pennington, but must refer to it for much interesting information respecting Miss. Talbot’s amiable character and disposition. Her works consist of “Reflections on the Seven Days of the week” “Essays on various subjects” “Letters to a friend on a Future State” “Dialogues” “Prose Pastorals” “Imitations of Ossian;” “Allegories;” and “Poetry.”

, a Roman catholic writer, of considerable celebrity in his day, was the son of sir William Talbot, and was born in 1620, of an ancient family in the county of Dublin. He was brother to colonel Richard Talbot, commonly called, about the court of England, “Lying Dick Talbot,” whom James II. created duke of Tyrconnell, and advanced to the lieutenancy of IrelandPeter was received into the society of the Jesuits in Portugal in 1635, and after studying philosophy and divinity, went into holy orders at Rome, whence he returned to Portugal, and afterwards to Antwerp, where he read lectures on moral theology. He was supposed to be the person who, in 1656, reconciled Charles II. then at Cologn, to the popish religion, and Charles is reported to have sent him secretly to Madrid to intimate to the court of Spain his conversion. He was also sent by his superiors to England to promote the interests of the Romish church, which he appears to have attempted in a very singular way, by paying his c ourt to Cromwell, at whose funeral he attended as one of the mourners, and even joined Lambert in opposing general Monk’s declaration for the king. He fled therefore at the restoration, but was enabled to return the year following, when the king married the infanta of Portugal, and he became one of the priests who officiated in her family. His intriguing disposition, however, created feome confusion at court, and he was ordered to depart the kingdom. The Jesuits, too, among whom he had been educated, thought him too busy and factious to be retained in their society, and it is supposed that by their interest pope Clement IX. was prevailed upon to dispense with his vows, and to advance him to the titular archbishopric of Dublin, in 1669. On his return to Ireland he recommenced his services in behalf of the church of Rome, by excommunicating those regulars and seculars of his own persuasion who had signed a testimony of their loyalty to the king. His ambition and turbulence led him also to quarrel with Plunket, the titular primate, a quiet man^ over whom he claimed authority, pretending that the king had appointed him overseer of all the clergy of Ireland; but when this authority was demanded, he never could produce it. In 1670, when lord Berkeley landed as lord lieutenant, Talbot waited upon him, and being courteously received, had afterwards the presumption to appear before the council in his archiepiscopal character, a thing without a precedent since the reformation. He was, however, disniissed without punishment; but when the popish plot was discovered in England in 1678, he was imprisoned in the castle of Dublin, on suspicion of being concerned in it, and died there in 1680. He was a man of talents and learning, but vain, ambitious, and turbulent. Sotwell, Harris, and Dodd have enumerated several of his publications, which, says Dodd, are plausible, and generally in defence of the Jesuits, but some of them are virulent against the English church.

, one of our earliest antiquaries, was born at Thorp, in Northamptonshire, and was educated at Winchester school, whence he was admitted of New college, Oxford, in 1525. He left the university in 1530, but took the degree of D. D. either there or in some other place. In 1541 he was made a prebendary of Wells, and April 9, 1547, treasurer of the cathedral church of Norwich, which he possessed at the time of his death, Aug. 27, 1558. He was a very diligent searcher into the antiquities of his country, and his collections proved of great service to Leland, Bale, Caius, Camden, and others. He also furnished archbishop Parker with many Saxon books, some of which he had from Dr. Ovvtn, physician to Henry VIII. He left his Mss. to New college. He was the first of our countrymen who illustrated Antoniiins’s Itinerary with various readings and notes, which were of great use to Camuen, and are printed by Hearne at the end of the third volume of Leland’s Itinerary from a ms in the Bodleian library, which belonged to John Stowe, and is in his ha 1 iwriting; but Talbot’s notes reach only to the sixth her. Two other copies are in Bene't college library a fourth is in Caius college library, with additions by Dr. Caius; and a fifth in the Cotton library. Camden followed his settlement of the stations in most instances, but William B 1 ir ton frequently differs from him in his “Commentary on Antoninus his Itinerary.” His other Mss. are “Aurum ex Stercore vel de Ænigmaticis et PropliL j ticis,” in Corpus college, Oxford; and “De chartis quibusdamRegnm Britannorurn,” in Bene't college, Cambridge.

, professor of medicine and anatomy in the university of Bologna, was born in that city in 1546, and died there Nov. 7, 1599, in the fifty-third year of his age. There is little recorded of his life; his fame depends on his having practised the art of restoring lost parts of the body by insition, particularly the nose, which has been a topic of ridicule ever since it was mentioned by Butler in his Hudibras^ “So learned Taliacotius from, &c.” Addison has also a humorous paper on the same subject in the Tatler (No. 260), and Dr. Grey some remarks in his notes on Hudibras. Taliacotius, however, was not the inventor of this art, for he allows that Alexander Benedictus and Vesalius had given some account of the same art before him, and Ambrose Pare mentions a surgeon who practised it much and successfully. Charles Bernard, serjeant-surgeon to queen Anne, asserts, that though those who have not examined the history may be sceptics, there are incontestable proofs that this art was actually practised with dexterity and success. Other writers have doubted whether Taliacotius did more than write on the theory, but there seems no foundation for depriving him of the honours of success in practice also. Our readers may, indeed, satisfy themselves as to the practicability of the art, as far as the nose is concerned, by perusing a very recent treatise, “An account of two successful operations for restoring a lost Nose, from the integuments of the forehead, in the cases of two officers of his majesty’s army,” by J. C. Carpue, surgeon, 1815, 4to. The lips and ears were the other parts which Taiiacotius professed to restore; and his writings on the subject are, 1. “Epistola ad Hieronymum Merculiarem de naribus, multo ante abscissis> reficiendis,” Francf. 1587, 8vo. 2. “De Curtorum Chirurgia per insitionem libri duo/ 7 Venice, 1597, fol. and reprinted at Francfort, 1598, 8vo, under the title” Chirurgia nova de narium, aurium, labiorumque defectu, per insitionem cutis ex humero, arte hactenus omnibus ignota, sarciendo." The magistrates of Bologna had such a high opinion of Taliacotius’s success, that they erected a statue of him, holding a nose in his hand.

, an admired general, and mareschal of France, was born Feb. 14, 1652, the son of Roger d'Hostun, marquis of la Beaume. Like other young nobles of France, he chose the army for his profession, and at the age of sixteen had the royal regiment of Cravates, in which command he signalized himself for ten years. In 1672 he attended Louis XIV. into Holland, obtained soon after the confidence of Turenne, and distinguished himself on several occasions. He was raised to the rank of lieutenant-general in 1693, and in 1697 was employed in an embassy to England. On the renewal of war, he commanded on the Rhine in 1702, and soon after was created mareschal of France. He distinguished himself in the ensuing year against the Imperialists, and gained a brilliant advantage, which, however, he rather disgraced by his pompous manner of announcing it. He was less fortunate in 1704, when being engaged against the English in the plains of Hochstedt, near Blenheim, he was defeated and brought a prisoner to England, where he remained for seven years. Soon after this battle, he said, in a kind of peevish compliment to the duke of Marlborough, “Your grace has defeated the finest troops in Europe” “You will except, 1 hope,” said the duke, “the troops who beat them.” His residence in England, say the French historians, was not without its use to France; as he very much assisted in detaching queen Anne from tha party of the allies, and causing the recall of the duke of Marlborough. He returned to Paris in 1712, and was created a duke. In 1726 he was named secretary of state, which honour he did not long retain, but died March 3, 1723, at the age of seventy-six. He was a man of good talents and character; his chief fault being that he was rather inclined to boasting.

, a non-conformist divine of considerable eminence and learning, was born at Paisley, near Chesterfield, Nov. 1619, and educated at the public schools at Mansfield and Newark, whence he went to Pete rhouse, Cambridge, but being chosen sub-tutor to the sons of the earl of Suffolk, removed for that purpose to Magdalen college, and in 1642 travelled with them on the continent. On his return he was chosen fellow of Magdalen college, and afterwards became senior fellow and president. In 1648 he was ordained at London, in the presbyterian form. In 1652 he left the university, and went to Shrewsbury, where he became minister of St. Mary’s. At the restoration, an event in which he rejoiced, he was inclined to conform, but probably scrupling to be re-ordained, which was the chief obstacle with many other non-conformists, he was ejected. In 1670 he again visited the continent as tutor to two- young gentlemen, and about three years afterwards returned to Shrewsbury, and preached in a dissenting meeting there, while unmolested. He lived also some time in London, but very privately. After reaching the very advanced age of eighty-nine, he died April 11, 1708, and was buried in St. Mary’s, Shrewsbury. His funeral sermon was preached by the celebrated Matthew Henry, who, in an account appended, gives him a very high character for piety, learning, and moderation. He was one of those of whom the great Mr. Boyle took early notice, and Jived in friendship with all his life. He published a few religious, chiefly controversial, tracts, but is principally remembered as the editor of a work once hi very high reputation, “A view of Universal History; or, chronological Tables,” engraved in his house and under his particular inspection, on sixteen large copper-plates.

, one of the greatest musicians of this country, or of Europe, in his time, flourished about the middle of the sixteenth century. He is said to have been organist of the royal chapel to king Henry VIII. king, Edward VI. queen Mary, and queen Elizabeth; but the inscription on his grave-stone warrants no such assertion. In the two reigns of Edward VI. and queen Mary, he was simply a gentleman of the chapel, and served for sevenpence halfpenny a day; but under Elizabeth, he and Bird were gentlemen of the chapel and organists. The studies of Tall is seem to have been wholly devoted to the service of the church, for his name is not to be found to any musical compositions of songs, ballads, madrigals, or any of those lighter kigds of music framed with a view to private recreation. Of the many disciples who had profited by his instruction, Bird seems to have possessed the greatest share of his affection, one proof of which was a joint publication by them of one of the noblest collections of hymns and other compositions for the service of the church that ever appeared in any age or country. This was printed by Vautrollier in 1575, with the title of “Cantiones qua? ab argumento sacrae vocantur quinque et sex partium, Autoribus Thomas T-allisio et Gulielmo Birdo, Anglis, sefenissimse reginee majestati a privato sacello generosis et organistis,” and was published under the protection of a patent of queen Elizabeth, the first of the kind that had ever been granted.

Though it has been commonly said that Tallis was organist to Henry VIII. and the three succeeding princes his descendants, it may well be doubted whether any \-ayman were employed in that office till the beginning of the reign of queen Elizabeth, when Tallis and Bird were severally appointed organists of the royal chapel. Notwithstanding he was a diligent collector of musical antiquities, and a careful peruser of the works of other men, the compositions of Tallis, learned and elegant as they are, are so truly original, that he may justly be said to be the father of the cathedral style; and, though a like appellation is given by the Italians to Palestrina, it is much to be questioned, considering the time when Tallis flourished, whether he could derive the least advantage from the improvements of that great man. Perhaps he laid the foundation of his studies in the works of the old cathedralists of this kingdom, and probably in those of the German musicians, who in his time had the pre-eminence of the Italians; and that he had an emulation to excel even these, may be presumed from the following particular. John Okenheim, a native of the Low Countries, and a disciple of Iodocus Pratensis, had made a composition for no fewer than thirty-six voices, which, Glareanus says, was greatly admired. Tallis composed a motet in forty parts, the history of which stupendous composition, as far as it can now be traced, i< ^iven by sir John Hawkins. Notwithstanding his supposed attachment to the Romish religion, it seems that Tallis accommodated himself and his studies to the alterations introduced at the reformation. With this view, he set to music those several parts of the English liturgy, which at that time were deemed the mojt proper to be sung, namely, the two morning services, the one comprehending the “Veriite Exultemus,” “Te Deum,” and “Benedictus” and the other, which is part of the communion-office, consisting of the “Kyrie Eleison,” “Nicene Creed,” and “Sanctus:” as also the evening service, containing the “Magnificat,” and “Nunc dimittis.” All these are comprehended in that which is called Tallis’s first service, as being the first of two composed by htm. He also set musical notes to the Preces ftnd Responses, and composed that Litany which for its excellence is sung on solemn occasions in all places where the choral service is performed. As to the Preces of Tallis in his first service, they are no other than those of Marbeck in his book of Common-prayer noted: the Responses are somewhat different in the tenor part, which is supposed to contain the melody; but Tallis has improved them by the addition of three parts, and has thus formed a judicious contrast between the supplications of the priest and the suffrages of the people as represented by the choir. The services of Tallis contain also chants for the “Venite Kxultemus,' 1 and the” Creed of St. Athanasius:" these are tunes that divide each verse of the psalm or hymn according to the pointing, to the end that the whole may be sung alternately by the choir, as distinguished by the two sides of the dean and thfe chanter. Two of these chants are published in Dr. Boyce’s Cathedral Music, vol. I. The care of selecting from the Common-prayer the offices most proper to be sung was a matter of some importance, especially as the rubric contains no directions about it; for this reason it is supposed that the musical part of queen Elizabeth’s liturgy was settled by Parker, archbishop of Canterbury, who was not only a great divine, an excellent canonlawyer and ritualist, and a general scholar, but also a skilful musician. Besides the offices above-mentioned, constituting what are now termed the Morning, Communion, and Evening Services, in four parts, with the Preces, Responses, and Litany, Tailis composed many anthems. He died Nov. 23, 1585, and was buried in the parishchurch of Greenwich in Kent; where there is a brass plate for him in the chancel; the inscription on which was repaired by dean Aldrich, and may be seen in Strype’s Stow, but no memorial now remains,

, or Timur Bec, the great conqueror of the East, was born in 1335, in the village of Kesch, belonging to the ancient Sogdiana. His name of Tamerlane is derived by some writers from Timur Lenc 9 or Timur the lame, as he had some defect in his feet. His origin is uncertain, some reporting him to be the son of a shepherd, and others of the royal blood. He raised himself, however, by his personal courage and talents. He was distinguished early by these qualities; and, having acquired some followers devoted to his fortunes, his first conquest was that of Balk, the capital of Khorasan, on the frontiers of Persia. He then made himself master of the whole province of Candahar, and returning to subdue the people beyond the Oxus, took Bagdad. He now determined to undertake the conquest of India; but his soldiers, fatigued by their former efforts, refused at first to follow him. On this occasion he employed a pretended prophet to exhort them in the name of heaven; and having made them ashamed of their reluctance, and filled them with a strong enthusiasm, led them on to greater victories. Delhi fell before him, aiifl he became possessed of the immense treasures of the Mogul empire. Returning from his Indian exploits, he entered Syria and took Damascus: and Bagclad having attempted to revolt, he made a terrible example, by putting many thousands of the inhabitants to the sword, and delivering the city to pillage. Bajazet, emperor of the Turks, now attracted his notice, and to him he sent an embassy, requiring him to do justice to some Mahometan princes whom he had deposed, and to abandon the siege of Constantinople. This haughty message being as haughtily answered, war was commenced between them. Tamerlane marched towards Bajazet, whom, in 1402, he engaged, conquered, and took prisoner, in the plains of Ancyra near Phrygia. The battle lasted three days. The Turkish writers say, that after this event, Tamerlane asked JBajazet what he would have done to him, if he had been victorious. “I would have shut you up,” said Bajazet, “in an iron cage.” Upon which he was himself condemned to the same punishment. Some writers, however, boast of the generosity and magnanimity of the conqueror. Be this as it may, he certainly carried his victories to a wonderful extent: while he was engaged in the war with Bajazet, he vanquished Egypt, and seized the immense treasures of Grand Cairo, nor could any thing in the East withstand him. He died about three years after his victory, on the first of April, 1405, in the seventy-first year of his age, and the thirty-sixth of his reign. When he found death approaching, he called the princes together, appointed his grandson to be his heir, and died, professing his implicit faith in the Koran, and repeating the sacred words of the Mahometans, “There is no God but God, and Mahomet is his prophet.”

Timur, according to Arabshah, was tall and corpulent, with a fair complexion, and agreeable countenance. He was very strong, and well made, except his lameness, which was on the right side; and as vigorous in constitution as undaunted in courage. He retained his faculties to the last. In his manners he appears to have been stern, hating not only falsehood, but even jesting. His history affords a wonderful example of long and invariable success attending one man. He conquered as much as Alexander, but with for less humanity.

, a gentleman who deserves to be recorded among the benefactors to literature, was great grandson to sir Richard Tancred, who was knighted for his services and severe sufferings during the rebellion. This sir Richard was the son of Charles Tancred, esq. who purchased the manor and rectory of Whixley, anciently Qnixley, situated between York and Aidborough. Christopher Tancred, the subject of this article, died in 1754 unmarried, and left his house and estate at Whixley for the maintenance of twelve decayed gentlemen who have borne arms in the service of their country, each of whom receive twenty-two guineas annually, and a separate apartment is assigned to each of them, but the whole dine in common. He also founded four medical exhir bitions at Caius college; four in divinity at Christ’s college, Cambridge, and four law studentships at Lincoln’sJnn, of which he was a bencher. These were originally of the yearly value of 50l., but are now 100l. each. The trustees in this foundation are the masters of Caius and Christ’s college, the president of the college of Physicians, the treasurer of Lincoln’s-Inn, the master of the Charterhouse, the president of Christ’s hospital, and the governor of Greenwich hospital. These exhibitions continue for about eight years, three years after taking the degree of M. A. or M. B. and after being called to the bar; and a Latin oration is spoken annually, by one of the exhibitioners and students, in commemoration of their liberal benefactor.

, an excellent antiquary, was the son of a father of both his names, vicar of Market Lavington in Wilts, and was born in 1674. He became a student in Queen’s-college, Oxford, in Michaelmas-term, 1689; admitted clerk in that house, 1690; B. A. 1693; entered into holy orders at Christmas, 1694; and became chaplain of All-souls-college in January following; chosen fellow of the same, 1697; chancellor of Norfolk, and rector of Thorpe near Norwich in 1701. He was installed prebendary of Ely, Sept. 10, 1713, (which he quitted in 1723); made archdeacon of Norfolk, Dec. 7, 1721 canon of Christ-church, Feb. 3, 1723-4; and prolocutor of the lower house of convocation, which was convened anno 1727. To this honour he was unanimously elected on account of his great abilities, however contrary to his own inclinations; and was consecrated bishop of St. Asaph, Jan. 23, 1732. Bishop Tanner died at Christ-church, Oxford, Dec. 14, 1735; and was buried in the nave of that cathedral, near the pulpit; without any funeral pomp, according to his own direction. He ordered his body to be wrapped up in the coarsest crape, and his coffin to be covered with serge, not cloth: the pall-bearers to have each of them one of Baskett’s folio bibles; the underbearers a Sherlock upon Death; to the dean of Christchurch, he left five pounds; to the eight canons five shillings each; eighty pounds to buy coats for eighty poor men; and one hundred pounds to the college, towards their library then building. A monument to his memory is affixed to one of the pillars, with an inscription. Another in>cription, and a translation of it, may be seen in the “Anecdotes of Bowyer.” He was thrice married, first, to Rose, eldest daughter of Dr. Moore, bishop of Ely, and by <her, who died March 15, 1706, aged twenty-five, he had a daughter who died in her infancy; secondly, to Frances, daughter of Mr. Jacob Preston, citizen of London. She died June 11, 1718, aged forty, and left two daughters, who both died young, and his son and heir, the rev. Thomas Tanner, who died in 1760, at that time precentor of St. Asaph, rector of Kessingland, and vicar of Lowestoff. The bishop married, thirdly, in 1733, Miss Elizabeth Scottow, of Thorpe, near Norwich, with a fortune of 15,000l. She survived him, and married Robert Britiffe, esq. recorder of Norwich, and M. P. She died in 1771.

Bishop Tanner’s character seems to have descended to posterity without any blemish. His virtues are acknowledged by his contemporaries, and of his learning as an antiquary, which was very extensive, he was most readily communicative to all who were engaged in publications of that nature. He had a considerable hand in the second edition of Wood’s “Athemr,” but appears to have given offence to some of Wood’s friends, by softening certain of his prejudices as well as his coarse language. This produced something like a controversy, which the reader may find detailed in the life of A. Wood, prefixed to his “Annals,” or in the preface to the new edition of the “Athenac,” by Mr. Bliss. Of the publications more particularly belonging to himself, the first appeared before he was twenty years old. It formed an excellent compendium of our religious houses, setting forth, when and by whom they were founded, their dedications, orders, and value; and v\as entitled, “Notitia Monastica, or a short History the Religious Houses in England and Wales,” 1695, 8vo. This was so favourably received that it became very scarce, and at the request of his friends he set about revising and enlarging it in 1715, but the duties of his station, and afteruarcls his infirmities, prevented him from leaving it quite complete. It appeared, however, under the care of the rev. John Tanner, his brotht-r, in 1744, folio, under the title of “Notitia Monastica; or an Account of all the Abbies, Priories, and House* of Friers, heretofore in England and Wales; and also of all the Colleges and Hospitals founded before A. D. 1511. By the right rev. Dr. Thomas Tanner, late lord bishop of St. Asaph. Published by John Tanner, A. M. vicar of Lowestoft in Suffolk, and precentor of the cathedral church of St. Asaph.” Of this a much improved edition was published in 1787, by Mr. Nasmith; but the greater part of the impression having been consumed in Mr. Nichols’s fire, it now ranks among scarce books. His “Bibliotheca Britannico-Hibernica,” which employed him forty years, was published in 1748, folio, with a posthumous preface by Dr. Wilkins. He left large collections for the county of Wilts, and large notes on Richard Hegge’s Legend of St. Cuthbert, 1663. His immense and valuable collections are now in the Bodleian library at Oxford. His portrait was engraved by Vertue in 1736, at the expence of the Society of Antiquaries. The portrait prefixed to the “Notitia,” is inscribed, “Reverendus admodum Thomas Tanner, Asaphensis Episcbpus, PilmaevEB Antiquitatis Cultor. G. Vertue sculp. 1743.” This print was a copy of that engraved by Vertue, with some difference in the decoration, and this addition to the inscription: “Hoc ectypum fratris sui dignissimi antiquis moribus ornati posteris sacratum esse voluit Soc. Ant. Lond. 1736.”

, an Italian poet, whose works were once proscribed by the inquisition, and having become scarce, are therefore accounted valuable, was born at Nola about 1520. He passed a great part of his life attached to the service of don Pedro de Toledo, viceroy of Naples, and don Garcias de Toledo, commander of the gallies in the same kingdom. The period of his death is not precisely known, but he is said to have been judge of Gaieta in 1569; and, as he was then in a very bad state of health, is supposed to have died soon after. He had the reputation of a very good poet, and his productions, as far as they are now known, are these 1. “II Vendeminiatore,” the Vintager, a poem in which he described in too free a manner, the licence of the inhabitants in the vicinity of Nola, at the time of the vintages; Naples, 1534; Venice, 1549, 4to. On this account all his poems were put into the Index expurgatorius. Mortified at this rigour, he addressed an ode to the pope, asserting, that, though his poem was licentious, his life had not been so; remonstrating against the inclusion of his innocent productions in the sentence with the culpable piece; and declaring that he was employed in a poem upon the tears of St. Peter, whose merits, he trusted, would atone for his offence, and procure him deserved honour. In consequence of this ode, when the next edition of the Index expurgatorius appeared, not only the innoxious poems, but the Vendemmiatore also, were omitted, as if the repentance of the poet had purified his poem! 2. “II Cavallarizzo,” Vicenza, 8vo. 4. Sonnets, Songs, Stanzas, and some Comedies, Lastly, in 1767, professor Ranza published an inedited poem of Tansillo’s, entitled “Balia,” which has been elegantly translated into English by Mr. Roscoe, under the title “The Nurse,” 1798, 4to.

, a French physician, born at Courtenai, died in 1761, at what age is uncertain. He was known by Tarious works, of which the following were the chief 1. “Elements of Physiology,” translated from the Latin of Haller, 17-52, 8vo. 2. “Adversaria Anatomica, 1750, 4to, with a medical Bibliography, extracted from the” Methodus Studii Medici“of Haller. 4.” Osteographia,“Paris, 1753, 4to, a compilation, illustrated by engravings. 5.” Anthropotomie,“or the art of dissecting, 1750, 2 vols. 12rno. 6.” Desmographie,“or a treatise on ligaments, the same year. 7.” Observations on Medicine and Surgery,“1758, 3 vols. 12mo. 8.” Myographia," or a description of the muscles, 1753, 4to, with figures from Albinus. He wrote also some medical articles for the Encyclopedia.

, styled by Dr. Burney, “the admirable,” was born in April 1692, at Pirano in the province of Istria. His father having been a great benefactor to the cathedral at Parenzo, was ennobled for his piety. Joseph was intended for the law, but taking up the study of music, among his other pursuits, it prevailed over all the rest in gaining his attachment. In 1710, he was sent to the university of Padua, to study as a civilian; but, before he was twenty, having married without the consent of his parents, they wholly abandoned him. After wandering for some time in search of an asylum, he was received in a convent at Assissi, by a monk to whom he was related. Here he amused himself by practising the violin, till being accidentally discovered by a Paduan acquaintance, family differences were accommodated, and he settled with his wife at Venice. While he remained there, he heard, ia 1714, the celebrated Veracini, whose performance, excelling every thing he had then heard, excited in his mind a wonderful emulation. He retired the very next day to Ancona, to study the use of the bow with more tranquillity, and attain, if possible, those powers of energy and expression which he had so greatly admired. By diligent study and practice, he acquired such skill and reputation, that iti 1721, he was invited to the place of first violin, and master of the band, in the famous church of St. Antony of Padua. He had also frequent invitations, which he declined, to visit Paris and London By 17i38, he had made many excellent scholars, and formed a school, or method of practice, that was celebrated all over Europe, and increased in fame to the end of his life. In 1744, he is said to have changed his style, from extremely difficult execution, to graceful and expressive; and Pasqualino Bini, one of his besfc scholars, having heard of the change, placed himself afresh under his tuition. This admirable musician, and worthy mail, for such he is represented, died Feb. 26, 1770, to the great regret of the inhabitants of Padua, where he had resided near fifty years; and where he was not only regarded as its chief and most attractive ornament, but as a philosopher, and even a saint, having devoted himself to the service of his patron St Antony of Padua.

The first book of solos by Tartiui, was published at Amsterdam, in 1734, the second at Home, in 1745; and Dr, Burney relates that he possesses the third, sixth, seventh, and ninth of his publications, besides two books printed in England, amounting to upwards of fifty solos, exclusive of manuscripts. His concertos amount to two hundred but a surreptitious copy of two sets having appeared ic- Hoilaud, he would never own them. Of taese, which are yet supposed to be certainly genuine, six were composed in his first manner, and six after 1744, when he had improved his style. But his most celebrated work is his “Traitato di Musica,” or treatise on music, in which, though his system, as to the scientific parr, has since been confuted, he appears as one of the most ingenious theorists of this century. It was published in 1754, in 4to. He published, in 1767, “Dissertazione de‘ principi dell’ Armenia Musicale, contenuta nel Diatonico genere,” another theoretical work. Tartini was so ambitious of being thought a follower of Corelli’s precepts and principles, that, after his own reputation was in its zenith, he refused to teach any other music to his disciples, till they had studied the opera quinta y or solos of Corelli. His musical character is thus drawn by the very able judge to whose account we have already referred: “Tartini, on a recent examination of his works, seems, to my feelings and conceptions, to have had a larger portion of merit, as a mere instrumental composer, than any other author who flourished during the first fifty or sixty years of the present century. Though he made Corelli his model in the purity of his harmony, and simplicity of his modulation, he greatly surpassed that composer in the fertility and originality of his invention; not only in the subjects of his melodies, but in the truly cantabile manner of treating them. Many of his adagios want nothing but words to be excellent, pathetic, opera songs. His allegros are sometimes difficult; but the passages fairly belong to the instrument for which they were composed, and were suggested by his consummate knowledge of the fingerboard, and powers of the bow. He certainly repeats his passages, a- d adheres to his original motive, or theme, too much for the favourite desultory style of the present times; but it must be allowed that, by his delicate selection and arrangement of notes, his passages are always good; play them quick, or play them slow, they never seem unmeaning or fortuitous. Indeed, as a harmonist, he was, perhaps, more truly scientific than any other composer of his time, in the clearness, character, and precision of his bases; which were never casual, or the effect of habit, or auricular prejudice and expectation, but learned, judicious, and certtin.”

, surnamed Firmanus, because he was a native of Firmum, a town in Italy, flourished at the same time with Cicero, and was one of his friends. He was a mathematical philosopher, and therefore was thought to have great skill in judicial astrology. He was particularly famous by two horoscopes which he drew, the one the horoscope of Romulus, and the other of Rome. Plutarch says, “Varro, who was the most learned of the Romans in history, had a particular friend named Tarrantius, who, out curiosity, applied himself to draw horoscopes, by means of astronomical tables, and was esteemed the most eminent in his time.” Historians controvert some particular circumstances of his calculations but all agree in conferring on him the honorary title Prince of astrologers.

, a noted mathematician, was born at Brescia in Italy, probably towards the conclusion of the fifteenth century, as we find he was a considerable master or preceptor in mathematics in 1521, when the first of his collection of questions and answers was written, which heafterwards published in 1546, under the title of “Quesiti et Invention! diverse,” at Venice, where he then resided as a public lecturer on mathematics, he having removed to this place about 1534. This work consists of nine chapters, containing answers to a number of questions on all the different branches of mathematics and philosophy then in vogue. The last or ninth of these, contains the questions in algebra, among which are those celebrated letters and communications between Tartalea and Cardan, by which our author put the latter in possession of the rules for cubic equations, which he first discovered in 1530.

The first work of Tartalea’s that was published, was his “Nova Scientia inventa,” Venice, 1537, in 4to. This is a treatise on the theory and practise of gunnery, and the first of the kind, he being the first writer on the flight and path of balls and shells. This work was translarH into English by Lucar, and printed at London in 1588, folio, with many notes and additions by the translator. Tartalea published at Venice, 1543, in folio, the whole books of Euclid, accompanied with many curious notes and commentaries. But the last and chief work of Tartalea was his “Trattato di Numeri etMisure,” 1556, and 1560, fol. This is an universal treatise on arithmetic, algebra, geometry, mensuration, c. It contains many other curious particulars of the disputes between our author and Cardan, which ended only with the death of Tartalea, before the last part of this work was published, or about 1558.

, a very ingenious artist, in the modelling department, was born in the neighbourhood of Glasgow, of obscure parents, and began life as a country stonemason, without the expectation of ever rising higher. Going to Glasgow on a fair-day, to enjoy himself with his companions, at the time when the Foulis’s were attempting to establish an academy for the fine arts in that city, he saw their collection of paintings, and felt an irresistible im^ pulse to become a painter. He accordingly removed to Glasgow; and in the academy acquired a knowledge of drawing, which unfolded and improved his natural taste. He was frugal, industrious, and persevering; but he was poor, and was under the necessity of devoting himself to stone-cutting for his support; not without the hopes that he might one day be a statuary if he could not be a painter. Resorting to Dublin for employment, he became known to Dr. Quin, who was amusing himself in his leisure hours with endeavouring to imitate the precious stones in coloured pastes, and take accurate impressions of the engravings that were on them.

That art was known to the ancients, and many specimens from them are now in the cabinets of the curious. It seems to have been lost in the middle ages; was revived in Italy under LeoX. and the Medici family at Florence; and became more perfect in France under the regency of the duke of Orleans, by his labours and those of Homberg. By those whom they instructed as assistants in the laboratory it continued to be practised in Paris, and was carried to Rome. Their art was kept a secret, and their collections were small. It is owing to Quin and to Tassie that it has been carried to such high perfection in Britain, and has attracted the attention of Europe.

Dr. Quin, in looking out for an assistant, soon discovered Tassie to be one in whom he could place perfect confidence. He was endowed with fine taste; he was modest and unassuming; he was patient; and possessed the highest integrity. The doctor committed his laboratory and experiments to his care. The associates were fully successful and found themselves able to imitate all the gems, and take accurate impressions of the engravings. As the doctor had followed the subject only for his amusement, when the discovery was completed, he encouraged Mr. Tassie to repair to London, and to devote himself to the preparation and sale of those pastes as his profession. Accordingly, m 1766, he arrived in the metropolis; but he was diffident and modest to excess; very unfit to introduce himself to the attention of persons of rank and of affluence; besides, the number of engraved gems in Britain was small; and those few were little noticed. He long struggled under difficulties which would have discouraged any one who was not possessed or' the greatest patience, and the warmest attachment to the subject. But he ^gradually emerged from obscurity, obtained competence, and what to him was more, he was able to increase his collection, and add higher degrees of perfection to his art. His name soon became respected, and the first cabinets in Europe were open for his use; and he uniformly preserved the greatest attention to the exactness of the imitation and accuracy of the engraving, so that many of his pastes were sold on the continent by the fraudulent for real gems. His taste led him to be peculiarly careful of the impression and he uniformly destroyed those with which he was in the least dissatisfied. The art has been since practised by others; anci many thousauds of pastes have been sold as Tassie’s, which he would have considered as injurious to his fame. Of the fame of others he was not envious; for he uniformly spoke with frankness in praise of those who executed them well, though they were endeavouring to rival himself.

To the ancient engravings he added a numerous collection of the most eminent modern ones; many of which approach in excellence of workmanship, if not in simplicity of design and chastity of expression, to the most celebrated of the ancients. Many years before he died he had a commission from the empress Catherine of Russia, for above 15,000 different engravings, which being executed in the best and most durable manner, were arranged in elegant cabinets, and were placed in the apartments of the palace of Czarsk Zelo. In executing this commission, Mr. Tassie availed himself of all the advantages which the improved state of chemistry, the various ornamental arts, and the knowledge of the age, seemed to afford. The impressions were taken in a beautiful white enamel composition, which is not subject to shrink, or form air-bladders; which emits fire when struck with steel, and takes a fine polishand which shews every stroke and touch of the artist in higher perfection than any other substance. When the colours, mixed colours, and nature of the respective originals, could be ascertained, they were imitated as completely as. art-tan imitate them: insomuch that many of the paste intaglios and cameos in this collection are such faithful imitations, that artists themselves have owned they could hardly be distinguished from the originals. And when the colour and nature of the gems could not be authenticated, the pastes were executed in agreeable, and chit- fly transparent colours: constant attention l>t:ing bestowed to preserve the outlines, extremities, attributes, and inscriptions. It was the learned Mr. Raspe (from whom this account is taki n), who arranged this great collection, and made out the dc srnptsve i at; iogue. (See “A Descriptive Catalogue,” &c. 2 vols. 4-to, 1791.)

Mr. Tassie died in 1799, at which time his collection of engravings amounted to 20,000. For a number of years he practised the modelling of portraits in wax, which he afterwards moulded and cast in paste. In taking likenesses he was, in general, uncommonly happy: and it is remarkabie, that he believed there was a certain kind of inspiration (like that mentioned by the poets) necessary to give him, full success. The writer of his life in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, in conversing with him on the subject, always found him fully persuaded of it. He mentioned many instances in which he had been directed by it: and even some, in which, after he had laboured in vain to realize his ideas on the wax, he had been able, by a sudden flash of imagination, to please himself in the likeness several days after he had seen the original. He possessed also an uncommon fine taste in architecture, and would have been eminent in that branch if he had followed it. In private life Mr. Tassie was universally esteemed for his uniform piety, and for the simplicity, the modesty, and benevolence, that shone in the whole of his character. ]

, a most celebrated Italian poet, was descended from the illustrious house of the Tassi of Almcnno, about five miles from Bergamo, a family which had supported itself by alliances till the time of Bernardo Tasao, whose mother was of the house of Cornaro. The estate of Bernardo, the father of our poet, was no wise equal to his birth; but this deficiency, in point of fortune, was in some measure compensated by the gifts of understanding. His works in verse and prose are recorded as monuments of his genius; and his fidelity to Ferrante of Saiii.everino, prince of Salerno, to \\hom he was entirely devoted, entitled him to the esteem of every man of honour. This prince had made him his secretary, and taken him with him to Naples, where he settled, and married Portia di Rossi, of one of the most illustrious families in that city.

Portia was six months gone with child, when she was invited by her sister Hippolita to Sorrento, to pay her a visit. Bernardo accompanied her thither and in this place Portia was delivered of a son, on the 11th day of Mcirch, 154-4, at noon. The infant was baptised a few days after, in the metropolitan church of Sorrento, by the name of Torquato. Bernardo and Portia returned soon after to Naples with him, concerning whom historians relate incredible things of his early and promising genius’. They tell us, that at six months oid, he not only spoke and pronounced his words clearly and distinctly, bin thought, reasoned, expressed his wants, and answered questions that there was nothing childish in his words, but the tone of his voice that he seldom laughed or cried; and that, even then, he gave certain tokens of that equality of temper which supported him so well in his future misfortunes.

Toward the end of his third year, Bernardo his father was obliged to follow the prince of Salerno into Germany, which journey proved the source of all the sufferings of Tasso and his family. The occasion was this Don Pedro of Toledo, viceroy of Naples for the emperor Charles V, had formed a design to establish the inquisition in that city. The Neapolitans, alarmed at this, resolved to send a deputation to the emperor, and made choice of the prince of Salerno, who seemed most able, by his authority and riches, to oppose the viceroy. The prince having consented, Bernardo Tasso accompanied him into Germany; but, before his departure, committed the care of his son to a man of learning; under whom, at three years of age, they tell us, he began to study grammar; and, at four, was sent to the college of the Jesuits, where he made so rapid a progress, that at seven he was pretty wellacquainted with the Latin and Greek tongues; at the same age he made public orations, and composed some pieces of poetry, of which the style is said to have retained nothing of puerility.

The success the prince of Salerno met with in his embassy greatly increased his credit amongst the Neapolitans, but entirely ruined him with the viceroy, who so much, exasperated the emperor against the prince of Salerno, that Ferrante, finding there was no longer any security for him at Naples, and having in vain applied to gain an audience of the emperor, retired to Rome, and renounced his allegiance to Charles V. Bernardo Tasso would not abandon his patron in his ill fortune; neither would he leave his son in a country where he himself was soon to be declared an enemy; and foreseeing he should never he able to return thither, he took Torquato with him to Rome.

As soon as the departure of the prince of Salerno was known, he, and all his adherents, were declared rebels to the state; and Torquato Tasso, though but nine years of age, was included by name in that sentence. Bernardo, following the prince of Salerno into France, committed his son to the care of his friend and relation Maurice Cataneo, a person of great ability, who assiduously cultivated the early disposition of his pupil to polite literature. After the death of Sanseverino, which happened in three or four years, Bernardo returned to Italy, and engaged in the service of Guglielmo Gonzaga, duke of Mantua, who had given him a pressing invitation. It was not long before Ije received the melancholy news of the decease of his wife Portia, which determined him to send for his son, that they might be a mutual support to each other in their affliction. He was now his only child, for his wife, before her death, had married his daughter to Martio Sersale, a gentleman of Sorrento. He was greatly surprised, on his son’s arrival, to see the vast progress he had made in his studies. Although but twelve years of age, he had, according to the testimony of the writers of his life, entirely completed his knowledge in the Latin and Greek tongues: he was well acquainted with the rules of rhetoric and poetry, and completely versed in Aristotle’s ethics. Bernardo soon determined to send him to the university of Padua, to study the laws, in company with the young Scipio Gonzaga, afterwards cardinal, nearly of the same age as himself. With this nobleman Tasso, then seventeen years of age, contracted a friendship that never ended but with hi life. He prosecuted his studies at Padua with great diligence and success: at the same time employ ing his leisure hours upon philosophy and poetry, he soon gave a public proof o/ his talents, by his poem of f< Rinaldo,“which he published in the eighteenth year of his age. This poem, which is of the romance kind, is divided into twelve books in ottava rima, and contains the adventures of Rinaldo, the famous Paladin of the court of Charlemain, who makes so principal a figure in Ariosto’s work, and the first achievements of that knight for the love of the fair Clarice, whom he afterwards marries. The action of this poem precedes that of the” Orlando Furioso.“It was composed in ten months, as the author himself informs us in the preface, and was first printed at Venice in 1562. Paolo Beni speaks very highly of this performance, which undoubtedly is not unworthy the early efforts of that genius which afterwards produced the” Jerusalem."

Tasso’s father saw with regret the success of his son’s poem: he was apprehensive, and not without reason, that the charms of poetry would detach him from those more solid studies-which he judged were most likely to raise him in the world: and he knew well, by his own experience, that the greatest skill in poetry will not advance a man’s private fortune. He was not deceived in his conjecture; Torquato, insensibly carried away by his predominant passion, followed the examples of Petrarch, Boccace, Ariosto, and others, who, contrary to the remonstrances of their friejids, quitted the severer studies of the law for the more pleasing entertainment of poetical composition. In short, he entirely gave himslf up to the study of poetry and philosophy. His first poem extended his reputation through all Italy; but his father was so displeased with his conduct that he went to Padua o'n purpose to reprimand him. Though he spoke with great vehemence, and made use of several harsh expressions, Torquato heard him without interrupting him, and his composure contributed not a little to increase his father’s displeasure. (t Tell me,“said Bernardo, lt of what use is that vain philosophy, upon which you pride yourself so much?” “It has enabled me,” said Tasso modestly, “to endure the harshness of your reproofs.” The resolution Tasso had taken to devote himself to the Muses was known all over Italy; the principal persons of the city and college of Bologna invited him thither' by means of Pietro Donato Cesi, then vice-legate, and afterwards legate. But Tasso had not long resided there, when he was pressed by Scipio Gonzaga, elected prince of the academy established at Padua, under the name of Etherei, to return to that city. He could not withstand this solicitation; and Bologna being at that time the scene of civil commotion, he was the more willing to seek elsewhere for the repose he loved. He was received with extreme joy by all the academy, and being incorporated into lhat society, at the age of twenty years, took upon himself the name of Pentito; by which he seemed to show that he repented of all the time which he had employed in the study of the law. In this retreat he applied himself afresh to philosophy and poetry, and soon became a perfect master of both; it was this happy mixture of his studies that made him an enemy to all kinds of licentiousness. An oration was made one day in the academy upon the nature of love; the orator treated his subject in a very masterly manner, but with too little regard to decency in the opinion of Tasso, who, being asked what he thought of the discourse, replied, “that it was a pleasing poison.”

Here Tasso formed the design of his celebrated poem, ie Jerusalem Delivered:“he invented the fable, disposed the different parts, and determined to dedicate this work to the glory of the house of Este. He was greatly esteemed by Alphonso II. the last duke of Ferrara, that great patron of learning and learned men, and by his brother, cardinal Luigi. There was a sort of contest between these two brothers, in relation to the poem: the cardinal imagined that he had a right to he the Maecenas of all Tasso‘ s works, as ’fRinaldo,” hi? first piece, had been dedicated to him: the duke, on the other bane), thought that, as his brother had already received his share pf honour, he ought not to be offended at seeing the name qf Alphonso at the head of the “Jerusalem Delivered.” Tasso for three or four years Suspended his deterrainatipn: at length, being earnestly pressed by both the brothers to take up his residence in Ferrara, he suffered himself to be prevailed upon. The duke gave him an apartment in his palace, where he lived in peace and affluence, and pursued his design of completing his “Jerusalem,” which be riov resolved to dedicate to Alphonso. The duke, who was desirous of fixing Tasso near him, had thoughts of marrying hiin advantageously, but he always evaded any proposal of that kind: though he appeared peculiarly devoted to Alphonso, yet he neglected not to pay his court to the cardinal.

The name of M asso now became famous through all Europe: and the caresses he received from Charles IX. in a journey he made to France with cardinal Luigi, who went thither in quality of legate, show that his reputation was not confined to his own country. The cardinal’s legation being finished, Tasso returned to Ferrara, where he applied himself to finish his “Jerusalem,” and in the mean time published his “Aminta,” a pastoral comedy, which was received with universal applause. This performance was looked upon as a master- piece in its kind, and is toe original of the “Pastor Fido” and “Filli di Sciro.” It was not easy to imagine that Tasso could so well paint the effects of love, without having himself felt that passion: it began to be suspected that, like another Ovid, he had raised his desires too high, and it was thought that in many of his verses he gave hints of that kind. There were at the duke’s court three Leonoras, equally witty and beautiful, though of different quality. The first was Leonora of Este, sister to the duke, who having refused the most advantageous matches, lived unmarried with Lauretta, duchess of Urbino, her elder sister, who was separated from her husband, and resided at her brother’s court. Tasso had a great attachment to this lady, who, on her side, honoured him with her esteem and protection. She was wise, generous, and not only well read in elegant literature, but even versed in the more abstruse sciences. All these perfections were undoubtedly observed by Tasso, who was one of the most assiduous of her courtiers and it appearing by his verses that he was touched with the charms of a Leonora, they tell us that we need not seek any further for the object of his passion.

The second Leonora that was given him for a mistress was the countess of San Vitale, daughter of the count of Sala, who lived at that time at the court of Ferrara, and passed for one of the most accomplished persons in Italy. Those who imagined that Tasso would not presume to lift his eyes to his master’s sister, supposed that he loved this lady. It is certain that he had frequent opportunities of discoursing with her, and that she had frequently been the subject of his verses. The third Leonora was a lady in the service of the princess Leonora of Este. This person was thought by some to be the most proper object of the poet’s gallantry. Tasso, several times, employed his muse in her service: in one of his pieces he confesses that, considering the princess as too high for. his hope, he had fixed his affection upon her, as of a condition more suitable to his own. But if any thing can be justly drawn from this particular, it seems rather to strengthen the opinion, that his desires, at least at one time, had aspired to a greater height. It appears, however, difficult to determine with certainty in relation to Tasso' s passion; especially when we consider the privilege allowed to poets: though M. Mirabuud makes no scruple to mention it as a circumstance almost certain, and fixes it without hesitation on the princess Leonora. Tasso, himself, in several of his poems, seems to endeavour to throw an obscurity over his passion. In the mean while Tasso proceeded with his <c Jerusalem," which he completed in the thirtieth year of his age; but this poem was not published by his own authority; it was printed against his will, as soon as he had finished the last book, and before he had time to give the revisals and corrections that a work of such a nature required. The public had already seen several parts, which had been sent into the world by the authority of his patrons. The success of this work was prodigious: it was translated into the Latin, French, Spanish, and even the oriental languages, almost as soon as it appeared-, and it may be said, that no such performance ever before raised its reputation to such a height in so small a space of time. But the satisfaction which Tasso must have felt, in spite of all his philosophy, at the applause of the public, was soon disturbed by a melancholy event. Bernardo Tasso, who spent his old age in tranquillity at Ostia upon the P<>, the government of which place had been given him by the duke of Mantua, fell sick. As soon as this news reached his son, he immediately went to him, attended him with the most filial regard, and scarce ever stirred from his bedside during the whole time of his illness: but all these cares were ineffectual; Bernardo, oppressed with age, and overcome by the violence of his distemper, paid the unavoidable tribute to nature, to the great affliction of Torqua:o. The duke of Mantua, who had a sincere esteem lor Bernardo, caused him to be interred, with much pomp, in the church of St. Egidius at Mantua, with this simple inscription on his tomb:

This death seemed to forebode other misfortunes to Tasso; for the remainder of his life proved almost one continued series of vexation and affliction. About this time a swarm of critics began to attack his “Jerusalem,” and the academy della Crusca, in particular, published a criiicisnii of his poem, in which they scrupled not to prefer the rhapsodies of Pulci and Boyardoto the “Jerusalem Delivered.” During Tasso’s residence in the duke’s court, he had contracted an intimacy with a gentleman of Ferrara, and having entrusted him with some transactions of a very delicate nature, this person was so treacherous as to speak of them again. Tasso reproached his friend with his indiscretion, who received his expostulation in such a manner, that Tasso was so far exasperated as to strike him: a challenge immediately ensued: the two opponents met at St. Leonard’s gate; but, while they were engaged, three brothers of Tasso’s antagonist came in and basely fell all at once upon Tasso, who defended himself so gallantly that he wounded two of them, and kept his ground against the others, till some people came in and separated them. This affair made a great noise at Ferrara: nothing was talked of but the valour of Tasso; and it became a sort of proverb, “That Tasso with his pen and his sword was superior to all men.” The duke, being informed of the quarrel, expressed great resentment against the four brothers, banished them from his dominions, and confiscated their estates; at the same time he caused Tasso to be put under arrest, declaring he did it to screen him from any future designs of his enemies. Tasso was extremely mortified to see himself thus confined; he imputed his detention to a very different cause from what was pretended, and feared an ill use might be made of what had passed, to ruin him in the duke’s opinion.

Though writers have left us very much in the dark with regard to the real motives that induced the duke to keep Tasso in confinement, yet, every thing being weighed, it seems highly probable that the affair of a delicate nature, said to have been divulged by his friend, must have related to the princess Leonora, the duke’s sister : and indeed it will be extremely difficult, from any other consideration, to account for the harsh treatment he received from a prince, who had before shown him such peculiar marks of esteem and friendship. However, Tasso himself had undoubtedly secret apprehensions that increased upon him every day, while the continual attacks which were made upon his credit as an author, not a little contributed to heighten his melancholy. At length he resolved to take the first opportunity to fly from his prison, for so he esteemed it, which after about a year’s detention he effected, and retired to Turin, where he endeavoured to remain concealed; but notwithstanding all his precautions, he was soon known, and recommended to the duke of Savoy, who received him into his palace, and showed him every mark of esteem and affection. But Tasso’s apprehensions still continued; he thought that the duke of Savoy would not refuse to give him up to the duke of B'errara, or sacrifice the friendship of that prince to the safety of a private person. Full of these imaginations he set out for Rome, alone and unprovided with necessaries for such a journey. At his arrival there he went directly to his old friend Mauritio Cataneo, who received him in such a manner as entirely to obliterate for some time the remembrance of the fatigue and uneasiness he had undergone. He was not only welcomed by Cataneo, but the whole city of Rome seemed to rejoice at the presence of so extraordinary a person. He was visited by princes, cardinals, prelates, and by all the learned in general. But the desire of revisiting his native country, and seeing his sister Cornelia, soon made him uneasy in this situation. He left his friend Mauritio Cataneo one evening, without giving him notice; and, beginning his journey on foot, arrived by night at the mountains of Veletri, where he took up his lodging with some shepherds: the next morning, disguising himself in the habit of one of these people, he continued his way, and in four days time reached Gaieta, almost spent with fatigue: here he embarked on board a vessel bound for Sorrento, at which place he arrived in safety the next day. He entered the city and went directly to his sister’s house: she was a widow, and the two sons she had by her husband being at that time absent, Tasso found her with only some of hr i <-n:ale attendants. He advanced towards her, without discovering himself, and pretending he came with news from her brother, gave her a letter which he had prepared for that purpose. This letter informed her that her brother’s life was in great danger, and that he begged her to make use of all the interest her tenderness might suggest to her, in order to procure letters of recommendation from some powerful person, to avert the threatened misfortune. For further particulars of the affair, she was referred to the messenger who brought her this intelligence.The lady, terrified at the news, earnestly entreated him to give her a detail of her brother’s misfortune. The feigned messenger then gave her so interesting an account of the pretended story, that, unable to contain her affliction, she fainted away. Tasso was sensibly touched at this convincing proof of his sister’s affection, and repented that he had gone so far: he began to comfort her, and, removing her fears by little and little, at last discovered himself to her. Her joy at seeing a brother whom she tenderly loved, was inexpressible after- the first salutations were over, she was very desirous to know the occasion of his disguising himself in that manner. Tasso acquainted her with his reasons, and, at the same time, giving her to understand, that he would willingly remain with her unknown to the world, Cornelia, who desired nothing further than to acquiesce in his pleasure, sent for her children and some of her nearest relations, whom she thought might be entrusted with the secret. They agreed that Tasso should pass for a relation of theirs, who came from Bergamo to Naples upon his private business, and from thence had come to Sorrento to pay them a visit. After this precaution, Tasso took up his residence at his sister’s house, where he lived for some time in tranquillity, entertaining himself with his two nephews Antonio and Alessandro Sersale, children of great hopes. The princess Leonora of Este, however, who was acquainted with the place of his retreat, invited him to return to Ferrara, which he did in company with Gualingo, ambassador from the duke to the pope. Concerning the motive of Tasso’s return to Ferrara, some authors think that, weary of living in obscurity, he had resolved to throw himself upon the duke’s generosity. This opinion seems indeed drawn from Tasso’s own words in a letter written by him to the duke of Urbino, in which he declares, “that he had endeavoured to make his peace with the duke, and had for that purpose written severally to him, f the duchess of Ferrara, the duchess of Urbino, and the princess Leonora; yet never received any answer but from the last, who assured him it was not in her power to render him any service.” We see here that Tasso acknowledges himself the receipt of a letter from the princess; and in regard to what he says to be the purport of it, it is highly reasonable to suppose, that he would be very cautious of divulging the real contents to the duke of Urbino, when his affairs with that lady were so delicately circumstanced. This apparent care to conceal the nature of his correspondence with her, seems to corroborate the former suppositions of his uncommon attachment to her; and when all circumstances are considered, it seems more than probable that he returned to Ferrara at the particular injunction of Leonora.

The duke received Tasso with great seeming satisfaction, and gave him fresh marks of his esteem: but this was not all that Tasso expected; his great desire was to be master of his own works, and he was very earnest that his writings might be restored to him, which were in the duke’s possession; but this was what he could by no means obtain: his enemies had gained such an ascendancy over the mind of' Alphonso, that they made him believe, or pretend to believe, that the poet had lost all his fire, and that in his present situation he was incapable of producing any thing new, or of correcting his poems: he, therefore, exhoried him to think only of leading a quiet and easy life for the future: but Tasso was sensibly vex-ed at this proceeding, and believed the duke wanted him entirely to relinquish his studies, and pass the remainder of his days in idleness and obscurity. “He would endeavour,” says he, in his letter to the duke of Urbino, “to make me a shameful deserter of Parnassus for the gardens of Epicurus, for scenes of pleasures unknown to Virgil, Catullus, Horace, and even Lucretius himself.” Tasso, therefore, reiterated his entreaties to have his writings restored to him, but the duke continued inflexible, and, to complete our poet’s vexation, all access to the princesses was denied him: fatigued at length with useless remonstrances, he once more quitted Ferrara, and fled (as he expresses it himself) ITke another Buis, leaving behind him even his books and manuscripts.

He then went to Mantua, where he found duke Guglielmo in a decrepid age, and little disposed to protect him against the duke of Ferrara: the prince Vincentio Gonzaga received him indeed with great caresses, but was too young to take him under his protection. From thence he went to Padua and Venice, but carrying with him in every part his fears of the duke of Ferrara, he at last had recourse to the duke of Urbino, who shewed him great kindness, but perhaps was very little inclined to embroil himself with his brother-in-law, on such an account: he advised Tasso rather to return to P'errara, which counsel he took, resolv ing once more to try his fortune with the duke. Alphonso, it may be, exasperated at Tasso’s flight, and pretending to believe that application to study had entirely disordered his understanding, and that a strict regimen was necessary to restore him to his former state, caused him to be strictly confined in the hospital of St. Anne. Tasso tried every method to soften the duke and obtain his liberty; but the duke coldly answered those who applied to him, “that instead of concerning themselves with the complaints of a person in his condition, who was very little capable of judging for his own good, they ought rather to exhort him patiently to submit to such remedies as were judged proper for his circumstances.” This confifiement threw Tasso into the deepest despair; he abandoned himself to his misfortunes, and the methods that were made use of for the cure of his pretended madness had nearly thrown him into an absolute delirium. His imagination was so disturbed that he believed the cau&e of his distemper was not natural; he sometimes fancied himself haunted by a spirit, that continually disordered his books and papers; and these strange notions were perhaps strengthened by the tricks that were played him by his keeper. This second confinement of Tasso was much longer than the first; but after seven years confinement, his release was procured by Vincentio Gonzaga, prince of Mantua, who took him with him to Mantua. It is said that the young prince, who was naturally gay, being desirous to authorize his pleasures by the example of a philosopher, introduced one day into Tasso’s company three sisters, to sing and play upon instruments: these ladies were all very handsome, but not of the most rigid virtue. After some short discourse, he told Tasso, that he should take two of them away, and would leave one behind, and bade him take his choice. Tasso answered “that it cost Paris very dear to give the preference to one of the goddesses, and, therefore, with his permission, he designed to retain the three.” The prince took him at his word, and departed; when Tasso, after a little conversation, dismissed them all handsomely with presents.

At last, weary of living in a continual state of dependence, he resolved to retire to Naples, and endeavour to recover his mother’s jointure, which had been seized upon by her relations when he went into exile with his father Bernardo. This appeared the only means to place him in the condition of life he so much desired. He applied to his friends, and having procured favourable, letters to the viceroy, he took leave of the duke of Mantua and repaired to Bergamo, where he stayed some time, and thence went to Naples. While here, dividing his time between his studies and the prosecution of his law-suit, the young count of Palena, by whom he was highly esteemed, persuaded him to take up his residence with him for some time; but in this affair he had not consulted the prince of Conca, his father, who, though he had a value for Tasso, yet could not approve of his son’s receiving into his house the only person that remained of a family once devoted to the prince of Salerno. A contention being likely to ensue, on this account, between the father and son, Tasso, with his usual goodness of disposition, to remove all occasion of dispute, withdrew from Naples, and retired to Bisaccio with his friend Manso, in whose company he lived some time with great tranquillity.

In this place Manso had an opportunity to examine the singular effects of Tasso’s melancholy; and often disputed with him concerning a familiar spirit, which he pretended to converse with. Manso endeavoured, in vain, to persuade his friend that the whole was the illusion of a disturbed imagination; but the latter was strenuous in maintaining the reality of what he asserted; and, to convince Manso, desired him to be present at one of those mysterious conversations. Manso had the complaisance to meet him the next day, and while they were engaged in discourse, on a sudden he observed that Tasso kept his eyes fixed upon a window, and remained in a manner immovable: he called him by his name, several times, but received no answer: at last Tasso cried out, “Theer is the friendly spirit who is come to converse with me: look, and you will be convinced of the truth of all that I have said.” Manso heard him with surprize: he looked, but saw nothing except the sun-beams darting through the window: he cast his eyes all over the room, but could perceive nothing, and was just going to ask where the pretended spirit was, when he heard Tasso speak with great earnestness, sometimes putting questions to the spirit, and sometimes giving answers, delivering the whole in such a pleasing manner, and with such elevated expressions, that he listened with admiration, and had not the least inclination to interrupt him. At last, this uncommon conversation ended with the departure of the spirit, as appeared by Tasso’s words; who turning toward Manso, asked him if his doubts were removed. Manso was more amazed than ever; he scarce knew what to think of his friend’s situation, and waved any further conversation on the subject.

At the approach of winter they returned to Naples, when the prince of Palena again pressed Tasso to reside with him; but Tasso, who judged it highly unadvisable to comply with his request, resolved to retire to Rome, and wait there the issue of his law-suit. He lived in that city about a year in high esteem with pope Sixtus V; when, being invited to Florence by Ferdinando, grand duke of Tuscany, who had been cardinal at Rome when Tasso first resided there, and who now employed the pope’s interest to procure a visit from him, he could not withstand such solicitations, but went to Florence, where he met with a most gracious reception. Yet not all the caresses he received at the duke’s court, nor all the promises of that prince, could overcome his love for his native country, or lessen the ardent desire he had to lead a retired and independent life. He therefore took his leave of the grand duke, wbo would have loaded him with presents; but Tasso, as usual, could be prevailed upon to accept of no more than was necessary for his present occasions. He returned to Naples by the way of Rome, and the old prince of Conca dying about this time, the young count of Palena prevailed upon Tasso, by the mediation of Manso, to accept of an apartment in his palace. Here he applied himself to a correction of his Jerusalem, or rather to compose a new work entitled “Jerusalem Conquered,” which he had begun during his first residence at Naples. The prince of Conca, being jealous lest any one should deprive him of the poet and poem, caused him to he so narrowly watched that Tasso observed it, and being displeased at such a proceeding, left the prince’s palace, and retired to his friend Manso’s, where he lived master of himself and his actions; yet he still continued upon good terms with the prince of Conca.

In a short time after he published his “Jerusalem Conquered,” which is a sufficient proof of the injustice of the criticisms that have been passed upon his “Jerusalem Delivered;” since the “Jerusalem Conquered,” in which he endeavoured to conform himself to the taste of his critics, was not received with the same approbation as the former poem, where he had entirely given himself up to the enthusiasm of his genius. He had likewise designed a third correction of the same poem, which, as we are informed, was to have been partly compounded of the Jerusalem Delivered and Conquered; but this work was never completed. In all probability, this last performance would not have equalled the first: and indeed our poet seems to owe his fame to the “Jerusalem Delivered,” the second poem upon that subject being little known.

Manso’s garden commanded a full prospefct of the sea. Tasso and his friend being one day in a summer-house with Scipio Belprato, Manso’s brother-in-law, observing the waves agitated with a furious storm, Beiprato said, “that he was astonished at the rashness and folly of men who would expose themselves to the rage of so merciless an element, where such numbers had suffered shipwreck.” “And yet,” said Tasso, “we every night go without fear to bed, where so many die every hour. Beheve me, death will rind us in all parts, and those places that appear the least exposed are not always the most secure from his attacks.” While Tasso lived with his friend Manso, cardinal Hippolito Aldobrandirii succeeded to the papacy by the name of Clement VIII. His two nephews, Cynthio and Pietro Aldobrandini, were created cardinals: the first, afterwards called the cardinal of St. George, was the eldest, a great patron of science, and a favourer of learned men: he had known Tasso when he resided last at Rome, and had the greatest esteem for him; and now so earnestly invited him to Rome, that he could not peluse, but once more abandoned his peaceful retreat;it Naples. As in consequence of the confines of the ecclesiastical state being infested with banditti, travellers, for security, used to go together in large companies, Tasso joined himself to one of these; but when they came within sight of Mola, a little town near Gaietu, they received intelligence that Sciarru, a famous captain of robbers, was near at hand with a great body of men. Tasso was of opinion, that they should continue their journey, and endeavour to defend themselves, if attacked: however, this advice was overruled, and they threw themselves for safety into Mola, in which place they remained for some time in a manner blocked up by Sciarra. But this outlaw, hearing that Tasso was one of the company, sent a message to assure him that he might pass in safety, and offere.i himself to conduct him wherever he pleased. Tasso returned him thanks, but declined accepting the offer, not choosing, perhaps, to rely on the word of a person of such character. Sciarra upon this sent a second message, by which he informed Tasso, that, upon his account, he would withdraw his men, and leave the ways open. He accordingly did so, and Tasso, continuing his journey, arrived without any accident at Rome, where he was most graciously welcomed by the two cardinals and the pope himself. Tasso applied himself in a particular manner to cardinal Cynthio, who had been the means of his coming to Rome; yet he neglected not to make his court to cardinal Aldobrandini, and he very frequently conversed with both of them. One day the two cardinals held an assembly of several prelates, to consult, among other things, of some method to put a stop to the license of the pasquinades. One proposed that Pasquin’s statue should be broken to pieces and cast into the river. But Tasso' s opinion being asked, he said, “it would be much more prudent to let it remain where it was; for otherwise from the fragments of the statue would be bred an infinite number of frogs on the banks of the Tyber, that would never cease to croak day and night.” The pope, to whom cardinal Aldobrandini related what had passed, interrogated Tasso upon the subject. “It is true, holy father,” said he, “such was my opinion; and I shall add moreover, that if your holiness would silence Pasquin, the only way is to put such people into employments as may give no occasion to any libels or disaffected discourse.”

At last, being again disgusted with the life of a courtier, he obtained permission to retire to Naples to prosecute his law-suit. At his arrival there, he took up his lodging in the convent of St. Severin, with the fathers of St. Benedict. Thus was Tasso once more in a state of tranquillity and retirement, so highly agreeable to his disposition; when cardinal Cynthio again found means to recall him, by prevailing on the pope to give him the honour of being solemnly crowned with laurel in the capitol. Though Tasso himself was not in the least desirous of such pomp, yet he yielded to the persuasion of others, particularly of his dear friend Manso, to whom he protested that he went merely at his earnest desire, not with any expectation of the promised triumph, which he had a secret presage would never be. He was greatly affected at parting from Manso, and took his leave of him as of one he should never see again. In his way he passed by Mount Cassino, to pay his devotion to the relics of St, Benedict, for whom he had a particular veneration. He spent the festival of Christmas in that monastery, and thence repaired to Rome, where he arrived in the beginning of 1595. He was met at the entrance of that city by many prelates and persons of distinction, and was afterward introduced, by the two cardinals, Cynthio and Pietro, to the presence of the pope, who was pleased to tell him, “that his merit would add as much honour to the laurel he was going to receive, as that crown had formerly given to those on whom it had hitherto been bestowed.”

Nothing was now thought of but the approaching solemnity: orders were given to decorate not only the pope’s palace and the capitol, but all the principal streets through which the procession was to pass. Yet Tasso appeared little moved with these preparations, which he said would be in vain: and being shewn a sonnet composed upon tha occasion by his relation, Hercole Tasso, he answered by the following verse of Seneca:

His presages were but too true, for, while they waited for fair weather to celebrate the solemnity, cardinal Cynthio fell ill, and continued for some time indisposed: and, as soon as the cardinal began to recover, Tasso himself was seized with his last sickness.

Though he had only completed his fifty- first year, his studies and misfortunes had brought on a premature old age. Being persuaded that his end was approaching, he resolved to spend the few days he had yet to live in the monastery of St. Onuphrius. He was carried thither in cardinal Cynthio’s coach, and received with the utmost tenderness by the prior and brethren of that order. His distemper was now so far increased, and his strength so exhausted, that all kind of medicine proved ineffectual. On the 10th of April he was taken with a violent fever, occasioned perhaps by having eat some milk, a kind of aliment he was particularly fond of. His life now seemed in imminent danger: the most famous physicians in Rome tried all their art, but in vain, to relieve him: he grew worse and worse every day. Rinaldini, the pope’s physician, and Tasso’s intimate friend, having informed him that his last hour was near at hand, Tasso embraced him tenderly, and with a composed countenance returned him thanks for his tidings; then looking up to Heaven, he “acknowledged the goodness of God, who was at last pleased to bring him safe into port after so long a storm.” From that time his mind seemed entirely disentangled from earthly affairs: he received the sacrament in the chapel of the monastery, being conducted thither by the brethren. When he was brought back to his chamber, he was asked where he wished to be interred; he answered, in the church of St. Onuphrius: and being desired to leave some memorial of his will in writing, and to dictate himself the epitaph that should be engraven on his tomb, he smiled and said, “that in regard to the first, he had little worldly goods to leave, and as to the second, a plain stone would suffice to cover him.” He left cardinal Cynthio his heir, and desired that his own picture might be given to Giovanni Baptista Manso, which had been drawn by his direction. At length having attained the fourteenth day of his illness, he received the extreme unction. Cardinal Cynthio hearing that he was at the last extremity, came- to visit him, and brought him the pope’s benediction, a grace never conferred in this manner but on cardinals and persons of the first distinction. Tasso acknowledged this honour with great devotion and humility, and said, “that this was the crown he came to receive at Rome.” The cardinal having asked him “if he had any thing further to desire,” he replied, “the only favour he had now to beg of him, was, that he would collect together the copies of all his works (particularly his” Jerusalem Delivered,“which he esteemed most imperfect) and commit them to the flames: this task, he confessed, might be found something difficult, as those pieces were dispersed abroad in so many different places, but yet he trusted it would not be found altogether impracticable.” He was so earnest in his request, that the cardinal, unwilling to discompose him by a refusal, gave him such a doubtful answer as led him to believe that his desire would be complied with. Tasso then requesting to be left alone, the cardinal took his farewel of him with tears in his eyes, leaving with him his confessor and some of the brethren of the monastery. In this condition he continued all night, and till the middle of the next day, the 25th of April, being the festival of St. Mark; when, finding himself fainting, he embraced his crucifix, uttering these words: In manus tuas, Domine but expired before he could finish the sentence. Tasso was tall and well-shaped, his complexion fair, fyut rather pale through sickness and study; the hair of his head was of a chesnut colour, but that of his beard somewhat lighter, thick and bushy; his forehead square and high, his head large, and the tore part of it, towards the end of his life, altogether bald; his eye-brows were dark; his eyes full, piercing, and of a clear blue; his nose large, his lips thin, his teeth well set and white; his neck well proportioned; his breast full; his shoulders broad, and all his limbs more sinewy than fleshy. His voice was strong, clear, and solemn; he spoke with deliberation, and generally reiterated his last words: he seldom laughed, and never to excess. He was very expert in the exercises of the body. In his oratory, he used little action, and rather pleased by the beauty and force of his expressions, than by the graces of gesture and utterance, that compose so great a part of elocution. Such was the exterior of Tasso: as to his mental qualities, he appears to have been a great genius, and a soul elevated above the common rank of mankind. It is said of him, that there never was a scholar more humble, a wit more devout, or a man more amiable in society. Never satisfied with, his works, even when they rendered his name famous throughout the world; always satisfied with his condition, even when he wanted every thing; entirely relying on Providence and his friends; without malevolence towards his greatest enemies; only wishing for riches that he might be serviceable to others, and making a scruple to receive or keep auy thing himself that was not absolutely necessary. So blameless and regular a life was ended by a peaceable death, which carried him off in 1595, in the fifty-second year of his age.

He was buried the same evening, without pomp, according to his desire, in the church of St. Onuphrius, and his body was covered with a plain stone. Cardinal Cynthio had purposed to erect a magnificent monument to his memory; but the design was so long prevented by sickness and other accidents, that, ten years after, Manso coming to Rome, went to visit his friend’s remains, and would have taken on himself the care of building a tomb to him; but this cardinal Cynthio would by no means permit, having determined himself to pay that duty to Tasso. However, Manso prevailed so far as to have the following words engraven on the stone:

As to his works, we have mentioned his principal his “Rinaldo,” “Aminta,” and “Gierusalemme liberate,” an epic poem in twenty-four books. This poem had been published in an imperfect state, through the importunity and authority of some of his noble patrons, but the first complete edition of it appeared at Ferrara in 1581, 4to. The critics falling upon this work, he proposed to give a new and corrected edition of it, or, more properly speaking, to write it over again, which he did, and published at Home, under the title of “Gierusalemme conquistata,” in 1593, 4to. But the poem, thus accommodated to the taste and humour of his critics, was not received by the world at large with the same applause as the first edition had been, which is the only one now read. Many writers, especially among the Italians, have compared Tasso to Virgil; and their partiality has, perhaps, made Boileau criticize him more severely than he would otherwise have done: he calls Tasso' s verses tinsel, when compared with the gold of Virgil; and censures the simple judgment of those, who prefer “le clinquant du Tasse a tout Tor de Virgile,” In the mean time some virtuosi of Italy have made it a question for a long while, whether Ariosto does not deserve the precedency of Tasso: a comparison which more judicious critics think never ought to have been instituted; and Tiraboscbi says we may as well compare Virgil’s Æneid with Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Tasso’s “Jerusalem” is regularly epic in its whole construction, and ranks deservedly among the few of that species of composition, ancient or modern, which all ages will probably admire. A little too much of the marvellous, one or perhaps two of the episodes, and part of his machinery, are the only subjects to which the most rigid criticism has ventured to object. Where some of his defects, some of his conceits, are visible, they have been referred to his age, but these are not frequent, and it seems generally acknowledged that while he is inferior to Homer, in simplicity and fire, to Virgil, in tenderness, and to Milton, in daring sublimity of genius, he yields to no other in any poetical talents.

The works of Tasso have been often printed separately, at various times and places. The abbe“Serassi has enumerated 132 editions of the” Jerusalem Delivered,“of which he thinks the best was that printed at Mantua by Francisco Osanna, in 1584, 4to. The” Jerusalem Conquered“had but thirteen editions, of which the last is in 1642.” Rinaldo“had fifteen, and” Aminta“fifty-eight, without reckoning those which appeared out of Italy. Of the translations of the first poem, Serassi mentions eleven in the different dialects of the Italian, and twenty-three in the other languages in Europe, but he has omitted some, particularly the French translation in Alexandrian verses, by M. Montenlas. Tasso’s whole works, together with his life, and several pieces for and against his” Gierusalemme Liberata,“were published at Florence, 1724, in six volumes, folio. The life was written by his friend Battista Man so, and printed at Rome in 1634; of which that by the abbe” de Charnes, printed at Paris in 1690, 12mo, is only an abridgment. But the best edition of the whole works, in Mr. Black’s opinion, is that of Venice, 12 vols. 4to, although it does not bear so high a price. His “Aminta,” and “Gierusalemme liberata,” have been translated into English; the former being published at London in 1628 the latter in 1713; and again, with the true spirit jf the original, by Mr. Hoole, in 1762. Within these few years English literature has been enriched by a very valuable and elaborate “Life of Torquato Tasso; with an historical and critical account of his writings, by John Black,” 1810, 2 vols. 4to. In this the reader will receive ample satisfaction as to the disputed parts of Tasso’s eventful history, and many illustrations of the times in which he lived, and of the lives of his contemporaries, the relative state of literary histoiy, and, indeed, will find an assemblage of every kind of evidence that can now be expected to throw light on the genius of this truly great poet.

, an Italian poet of great fame, was born at Modeua, in 1565. He was early left an orphan, and exposed to many difficulties, yet he cultivated the knowledge of the learned languages with great assiduity, and, in 1597, entered into the service of cardinal Ascanio Colonna, as his secretary. With him he went into Spain; and, after the death of that patron, contrived to be introduced into the court of Charles Emanuel duke of Savoy. Not agreeing with the prince cardinal, son of the duke, he retired, after a time, and sought an asylum with cardinal Ludovisio, who gave him a pension of 400 Iloman crowns, and apartments in his palace. After the death of this cardinal, he had recourse at length to his natural sovereign Francis I. d'Este, duke of Modena, from whom he received an honorary salary. He died in 1635, and was buried in N St. Peter’s. He was a member of the academy of the Umoristi. His character was lively and agreeable, notwithstanding his turn for satire.

His works are, 1. his “Secchia rapita,” or rape of the bucket, which the Italians in general consider as the first model of a mock-heroic poem that was given in their language. It seems, say the critics of that nation, that the graces clothed this poem with all their ornaments. A delicate burlesque, with the art of joining great things to small; an unaffected lightness, and consummate elegance, concurred in it to form a complete Italian model of an heroi-comic poem, which will in time be admired by strangers. The edition most valued is that of Ronciglione iti 1624. It was translated into French by Peter Perrault, 1678, in two vols. 12mo; and again by M. de Cedars, in 1759, in three volumes. 2. “Considerazione sopra il Petrarca.” He thought Petrarch, great as he was, too much imitated, and tried in this publication to lessen the rage for that kind of imitation. In that he succeeded. 3. He published also “Pensieri diversi,” which he made a very amusing book. His attack upon the imitators of Petrarch occasioned a contest between him and Gius. Aromatari; and that produced finally, 4. “La Tenda rossa, risposta di Girolamo Nomisenti (Alessandro Tassoni) ai dialoghi de Falcidio Melampodio,” (Giuseppe de gli Aromatori,) Francfort, 1613, 8vo. His will is also cited as a piece of humour, and there are some productions by him still remaining in manuscript; among the rest, one entitled “Esequie della monarchia di Spagna.” Many interesting particulars respecting Tassoni, accompanied with contemporary literary history, and much sound criticism, has just been given in “Memoirs of Aiessandro Tassoni, &c. By the late Joseph Cooper Walker, esq. M. R. I. A.” 1815, 8vo; edited by his brother, Sam. Walker, esq. No other reference can hereafter be wanting.

, an English lawyer and antiquary, the son of Bartholomew Tate, of Delapre, in Northamptonshire, was born in that county in 1560, and entered of Magdalen college, Oxford, in 1577. After some application to study he left the university without taking a degree, went to the Middle Temple, and after his admission to the bar, acquired great reputation as a counsellor, not only learned in the law, but as a good antiquary, and Saxon scholar. He had a seat in parliament about the end of queen Elizabeth’s reign, and in the 5th James I. was Lent-reader of the Middle Temple, and about that time became one of the justices itinerant for Wales. He died Nov. 16, 1616, leaving various manuscripts on legal antiquities, the fate of which seems unknown, but the following have been printed in Gutch’s “Collectanea Curiosa:” 1. “The antiquity, use, and privileges of Cities, Boroughs, and Towns.” 2. “The antiquity, use, and ceremonies of lawful Combats in England.” And in Hearne’s “Curious Discourses” are, 3. “Of Knights made by Abbots. 4.” Questions about the ancient Britons.“5.” Of the antiquity of Arms in England.“6.” Of the antiquity, variety and ceremonies of Funerals in England“and 7.” The antiquity, authority, and succession of the High Steward of England."

, a well known Psalmodist, was born in Dublin in 1652. His father, Dr. Faithful Tate, was also son to a Dr. Tate, a clergyman, and was born in the county of Cavan, and educated in the college of Dublin, where he took the degree of D. D. In 1641, being then minister of Ballyhays, in that county, he was a great sufferer by the rebels, against whom he had given some information, and in his way to Dublin was robbed by a gang, while about the same time his house at Ballyhays was plundered, and all his stock, goods, and books, burnt or otherwise destroyed. His wife and children were also so cruelly treated, that three of the latter died of the severities inflicted upon them. After this he lived for some time in the college of Dublin, in the provost’s lodgings. He became then preacher of East Greenwich, in Kent, and lastly minister of St. Werburgh’s church, in Dublin. He was esteemed a man of great piety but, as Harris says, was thought to be puritanically inclined, as perhaps may be surmised from his own and his son’s Christian names, names taken from the Scriptures heing very common with a certain class of the puritans. He was living in 1672, but the time of his death we have not been able to fix. Besides two occasional sermons, he published, 1. “The doctrine of the three sacred persons of the Trinity,” Lond. 1669, 8vo; and, 2. “Meditations,” Dublin, 1672, 8vo.

His son, Nahum, at the age of sixteen, was admitted of Dublin college, but does not appear to have followed any profession. It is observed by Warburton, in the notes to the Dunciad, that he was a cold writer, of no invention, but translated tolerably when befriended by Dryden, with whom he sometimes wrote in conjunction. He succeeded Shad well as poet-laureat, and continued in that office till his death, which happened Aug. 12, 1715, in the Mint, where he then resided as a place of refuge from the debts which he had contracted, and was buried in St. George’s church. The earl of Dorset was his patron; but the chief use he made of him was to screen himself from the persecutions of his creditors. Gildon speaks of him as a man of great honesty and modesty; but he seems to have been ill qualified to advance himself in the world, A person who died in 1763, at the age of ninety, remembered him well, and said he was remarkable for a down-cast look, and had seldom much to say for himself. Oidys also describes him as a free, good-natured, but intemperate companion. With these qualities it will not appear surprising that he was poor and despised. He was the author of nine dramatic performances, and a great number of poems; but is at present better known for his version of the Psalms, in which he joined with Dr. Brady, than any other of his works. His miscellaneous poems are enumerated in Gibber’s <c Lives,“and by Jacob, who says Tate’s poem on the Death of queen Anne, which was one of the last, is” one of the best poems he ever wrote.“His share in the” Second Part of Absalom and Achitophel“is far from inconsiderable; and may be seen in the English Poets. He published also” Memorials for the Learned, collected out of eminent authors in history,“&c. 1686, 8vo and his” Proposal for regulating of the Stage and Stage Plays," Feb. 6, 1698, is among bishop Gibson’s Mss. in the Lambeth library.

, a writer of the primitive church, was a Syrian by birth, and flourished about the year 170. He was a sophist by profession, very profound in all branches of literature, and acquired great reputation by teaching rhetoric. Being converted to Christianity, he became the scholar of Justin Martyr, whom he attended to Rome, and partook with him of the hatred of the philosopher Crescens: for he tells us himself, that Crescens laid wait for his life, as well as for Justin’s. While Justin lived he continued steady in the orthodox belief, but after his death became the author of a new set of fanciful opinions, which, after propagating them for some time at Rome, he carried into the east, and opened a school in Mesopotamia, and other places. Nothing is certainly known concerning his death.

His apology for Christianity, entitled “Oratio ad Graecos,” “An address to the Greeks,” the only genuine work of Tatian which remains, every where breathes the spirit of the Oriental philosophy. He teaches that God, after having from eternity remained at rest in the plenitude of his own light, that he might manifest himself, sent forth from his simple nature, by an act of his will, the Logos, through whom he gave existence to the universe, the essence of which had eternally subsisted in himself. “The Logos,” he says, “through the will of God, sprang from his simple nature.” This first emanation, which, after the Alexandrian Platonists, he calls the Logos, and which, like the Adam Kadmon of the Cabbalists, is the first medium through which all things flow from God, he represents as proceeding, without being separated from the divine nature. Matter is conceived by Tatian to have been the production of the Logos, sent forth from his bosom. And the mind of man is, according to him, reason produced from a rational power, or an essential emanation from the divine Logos. He distinguishes between the rational mind and the animal soul, as the Alexandrian philosophers between *3j and ^%>i, and the Cabbalists between Zelem and Nephesh. The world he supposed to be animated by a subordinate spirit, of which all the parts of visible nature partake: and he taught that daemons, clothed in material vehicles, inhabit the aerial regions; and that above the stars, aeons, or higher emanations from the divine nature, dwell in eternal light. In fine, the sentiments and language of Tatian upon these subjects perfectly agree with those of the Ægyptian and the Cabbalistic philosophy, whence it may be presumed that he derived them, in a great measure, from these sources. After Plato, this Christian father maintained the imperfection of matter as the cause of evil, and the consequent merit of rising above all corporeal appetites and passions; and it was, probably, owing to this notion, that, with other fathers, he held the superior merit of the state of celibacy above that of marriage; and that he adopted, as Jerom relates, the Gnostic opinion, that Christ had no real body. The tenor of Tatian’s Apology concurs with what is known of his history, to prove, that he was a Platonic Christian. His “Oratio” was first printed at Zurich in 1546, together with the Latin version of Conradus Gesner. It was afterwards subjoined to Justin Martyr’s works, printed at Paris in 1615 and 1636, folio but the best edition of it is that of Oxford, 1700, in 12mo.

, a modern historian, in 1720 began to collect materials for a complete history of Russia and continued his researches without intermission for the space of thirty years. This indefatigable compiler finished his account to the reign of Feodor Ivanovitch; and was bringing it down to this century, when death put a period to his labours. Part of this great work was consumed in a fire; and the remainder was published after the author’s death by Mr. Muller. It consists of three large volumes in quarto. The first contains several curious dissertations relative to the antiquity of the Sclavonian nation; while the second and third comprise the history of the Russian empire, from its earliest origin to 1237.

It can hardly be called a regular history, but is rather a connected series of chronicles, whose antiquated Sclavonian dialects are only changed into the Russian idiom; and the author is justly censured for not regularly citing the various annalists as he abridges or new models them, and for not assigning the reasons which induced him to prefer the writers whose relations he has adopted, to those which he has rejected.

, an ancient Greek writer of Alexandria, is supposed to have lived in the third century, but this is uncertain. According to Suidas, who calls him Statius, he embraced Christianity in the latter part of his life, and became a bishop. He wrote a book “Upon the Sphere,” which seems to have been nothing more than a commentary upon Aratus. Part of it is extant, and has been translated into Latin by father Petavius, under the title of “Isagoge in phænomena Arati.” He wrote also a romance, probably from its licentiousness when he was a heathen, entitled, “Of the Loves of Clitophon and Leucippe,” in eight books, which were first published in JLatin only, at Basil, 1554. This Latin version, made by Annibal Cruceius of Milan, was republished by Commelinus, with the Greek, at Heidelberg, 1608, 8 vo, with Longus and Parthenius, writers of the same class: after which, a more correct edition of the Greek was given by Salmaaius at Leyden, 1640, in 12mo, with Cruceius’ s version. The best edition is that of Boden, Gr. and Lat. Leipsic, 1776, 8vo.

, an eminent German critic, was born at Wonscisch in Franconia, about 1565. His father, who was a tradesman of the lower order, died while Taubman was a child, and his mother married a taylor, who, however, had sense enough to discern the boy’s capacity, and resolved to bring him up to letters. For that purpose he sent him to Culmbach, a town of Franconia, to school, where he remained until he was sixteen years of age, and made an uncommon progress in literature. The circumstances of his parents, however, were so very indifferent, *hat they were unable to furnish him with much, and it is said that he was frequently constrained to beg his bread from door to door. While he was at this school his mother died, and his father-in-law married another wife, who proved very kind to one now become an orphan in every way.

In 1582, George- Frederic, marquis of Brandenburg, having founded a college at Heilbrun, a town of Suabia, collected the promising youth out of all his states, and Taubman among the rest, whose great capacity recommended him to public notice; and who, besides his skill in the Latin and Greek authors, had acquired much fame by his poetry. After staying ten years at Heilbrun, he went in 1592 to Wittemberg, where he soon distinguished himself; and Frederic William, the prince of Saxony, conceived so high an esteem for him, as often to admit him into his company. The professorship of poetry and the belles lettres becoming vacant in 1595, the university asked it of the court for Taubman, who accordingly took possession of it in October that year, and held it, with great honour to himself, and advantage to the public, as long as he lived. He died of a fever in 1613, leaving five children and a wife, whom he had married in 1596. He was one of those few happy men who had qualities to make himself beloved as well as admired. His very great learning procured him the admiration of mankind; and the liveliness of his disposition, and many private virtues, secured to him their esteem and affection,

His works are, 1. “Commentarius in Plautum, Francof. 1605;” and in 1612, not only enlarged, but more correct. A third edition, with additions, by Janus Gruterus, was published after his death in 1622. In these editions, which are all in quarto, Taubman has greatly contributed towards the restoration of the true text of Plautus. Joseph Scaliger complimented Taubman upon his Commentary on Plautus; and tells him, that it has all the marks of penetration, judgment, and industry. The learned have since ever considered it in this light; and many consider the second and third editions, notwithstanding the labours of any later critic, as the best we still have of Plautus. After his death was published, by his son, his 2. “Commentarius in Virgiliurn;” which Tanaquil Faber scruples not, in one of his letters, to call the best commentary we have upon Virgil; but this is not the general opinion. 3. “De lingua Latina dissertatio,” published by himself at Wittemburg in 1602. He also published other small pieces, and some Latin poetry. Taubmanniana came out at Leipsic in 1703: Taubman had a great turn for raillery, but whether any of his genuine witticisms can be found in this collection may reasonably admit of a doubt.

, a writer famous among the mystical devotees, flourished in the fourteenth century. We have no certain account of the year or place of his birth, He was born in Germany, and became a monk of the Dominican order, and acquired great skill in philosophy and school-divinity; but he applied himself principally to mystical divinity; and as it was believed that he was favoured with revelations from heaven, he was styled the illuminated, divine. He had great talents for preaching, and there was no preacher in that age more followed than he. He reproved with great zeal and great freedom the faults of every body; and this made him odious to some monks, whose persecutions of him he bore patiently. He submitted witii the same resolution to other trials, and it was thought that he was thus visited by God, that he might not grow proud of the extraordinary gifts which he had received from heaven. The two principal cities in which he preached, were Cologne and Strasburg. He died in the latter after a long sickness, May 17, 1361, and was honourably interred there in the academical college, near the winter-auditory. He wrote several books; concerning which different judgments have been formed; some catholics have censured them, and some protestants have commended them. Among the latter, we may mention our Dr. Henry More, who exceedingly admired Taulerus’swork entitled “Theologia Germanica,” which Luther also praises. This was first translated from the German into Latin by Surius, and then by Sebastian Castalio, and went through a great many editions from 1518 to 1700, when it was printed in French at Amsterdam.

, of Beryta, who flourished under the reign of Antoninus Pius, is mentioned as a Platonist of some note. Among his pupils was Aulus Gellius, who has preserved several specimens of his preceptor’s method of philosophising. He examined all sects, but preferred the Platonic: in which he had at least the merit of avoiding the infection of that spirit of confusion, which at this period seized almost the whole body of the philosophers, especially those of the Platonic school. In a work which he wrote concerning the differences in opinion among the Platonists, Aristotelians, and Stoics, he strenuously opposed the attempts of the Alexandrian philosophers, and others, to combine the tenets of these sects into one system. He wrote several pieces, chiefly to illustrate the Platonic philosophy. He lived at Athens, and taught, not in the schools, but at his table. A. Gellius, who was frequently one of his guests, gives the following account, in his “Noctes Atticae,” of the manner in which they were conducted “Taurus, the philosopher, commonly invited a select number of his friends to a frugal supper, consisting of lentils, and a gourd, cut into small pieces upon an earthen dish; and during the repast, philosophical conversation, upon various topics, was introduced. His constant disciples, whom he called his family, were expected to contribute their share towards the small expence which attended these simple repasts, in which interesting conversation supplied the place of luxurious provision. Every one came furnished with some new subject of inquiry, which he was allowed in his<turn to propose, and which, during a limited time, was debated. The subjects of discussion, in these conversations, were not of the more serious and important kind, but such elegant questions as might afford an agreeable exercise of the faculties in the moments of convivial enjoyment; and these Taurus afterwards frequently illustrated more at large with sound erudition.”

, a pious layman of the reigns of Henry VIII. Edward, Mary, and Elizabeth, descended from an ancient family in Norfolk, and was the eldest son of John Taverner of Brisley, where he was born in 1505. He is said to have studied logic for some time in Corpus Christi college, Cambridge, and, if so, must have been contemporary with archbishop Parker. He afterwards removed to Oxford, and was one of the learned scholars invited by cardinal Wolsey to his new college there. Wood informs us that he took the degree of A. B. on May 21, 1527, and that of A.M. in 1530, having been made one of the junior canons the year before. Having thus acquired a competent knowledge in the sciences and learned languages, he studied law in the Inner Temple. In 1534 he was introduced to court, and being taken into the service of sir Thomas Cromwell, principal secretary of state, he was recommended by him to the king for one of the clerks of the signet in 1537, which place he held until the reign of queen Mary, notwithstanding his commitment to the Tower about four years after for “slandering the ladie Anne of Cleve,” or rather on account of his being deemed one of the gospellers, as they were termed, of his college. He certainly was a friend to the reformation, and in order to promote it undertook a new translation or edition of the English bible, “recognized with great diligence after most faithful examples,” Lond. 1539, fol. It was dedicated to the king, and allowed to be read in churches. But in 1545, his patron, lord Cromwell, being then dead, the popish bishops caused the printers to be imprisoned and punished; and the editor himself also was committed to the Tower. Here however he acquitted himself so well, that he was not only soon after released, but restored again to the king’s favour, and chosen a member of parliament in 1545. Bale calls Taverner’s edition of the Bible, “Sacrortim Bibliorum recognitio, seu potius versio nova;” but it is neither a bare revisal of the preceding editions, nor a new version, but between both. It is a correction of what is called Matthewe’s Bible; many of whose marginal notes are adopted, and many omitted, and others inserted by the editor. Archbishop Newcome thinks it probable that Taverner’s patron, Cromwell, encouraged him to undertake this work, on account of his skill in the Greek tongue; but it is more probable that he was principally induced to it by the printers, as we learn from a passage in the dedication, in which, after telling the king that a correct or faultless translation of the Bible must be the production of many learned men, and of much time and leisure, he adds; “but forasmuch as the printers were very desirous to have the Bible come forth as faultless and emendately as the shortness of the time for the recognising of the same would require, they desired him, for default of a better learned, diligently to overlook and peruse the whole copy, and, in case he should find any notable default that needed correction, to amend the same, &c.”

On the accession of king Edward, Taverner, although a layman, had a special licence in 1552 to preach throughout the king’s dominions. Good preaching was at that time so very scarce, that not only the king’s chaplains were obliged to make circuits round the country to instruct the people, and to fortify them against popery, but even laymen, who were scholars, were employed for that purpose. From this however he was obliged to desist when queen Mary came to the throne, and therefore retired to Norbiton hall, near Kingston in Surry, where he lived quietly during the whole of her reign. As soon as Elizabeth became queen, to whom he presented a congratulatory epistle in Latin upon that happy occasion, he resumed his preaching in Oxford and elsewhere. Her majesty had a high respect for him, and besides offering him knighthood (which Tanner thinks he accepted), put him into the commission of the peace for the county of Oxford. Here numerous concerns were intrusted to him, and in 1569, he was made high sheriff of the county. His zeal was still warm against popery, probably owing to the frightful effects of popish bigotry which he had witnessed in Mary’s reign, and notwithstanding his new office, he continued his preaching. Even while high sheriff, he appeared in St. Mary’s pulpit, with his gold chain about his neck, and his sword by his side, and is said to have begun one of his sermons in the following words “Arriving at the mount of St. Mary’s, in the stony stage where I now stand, I have brought you some fine biskets, baked in the oven of charity, and carefully conserved for the chickens of the church, the sparrows of the spirit, and the sweet swallows of salvation.” This style was much admired in his days even by the generality of the scholars, and indeed such alliteration was long afterwards a favourite both with speakers and hearers. He also endeavoured to promote the reformation by his writings and translations; of which, besides his Bible, we have the following list: 1. “The sum and pith of CL Psalms of David, reduced into a form of prayers and meditations, with certain other godly orisons,” Lond. 1539, 8vo. 2. “The Epistles and Gospels, with a brief postill upon the same, from Advent to Low Sunday; and from Easter to Advent,” Lond. 1540, two parts, 4to. 3. “Fruit of Faith, contain* ing all the prayers of the patriarchs, &c. in the Old and New Testament,” ibid, 1582, 12mo. 4. “The Garden of Wysdome, &c. containing the sayings of princes, philosophers, &c.” 1539, 2 books. 5. “Flores aliquot sententiarum ex variis scriptoribus,” translated from Erasmus. 6. “Catonis Disticha Moralia,” Lond. 1553, 8vo, 1555, 4to. 7. “In Mimum Publianum lib. 1,” 1562. 8. “Catednsmus fidei.” 9. “Proverbs or adagies gathered out of the Chiliades of Erasmus,” 1515. His translations were, “Grostete’s Prayers on the Psalms” “Confession of the Germans, with the apology of Melancthon,” and some tracts from Erasmus.

In the latter part of his life, Taverner lived at a seat he had built at Woodeaton in Oxfordshire, whence he dates a letter to archbishop Parker in 1562, excusing himself from lending the queen 100l., from inability at that time. He died at this place, July 14, 1575, in the seventieth year of his age, and was buried in the chancel of the church with great solemnity. He married two wives, Margaret the daughter of Walter Lambert, esq. and after her decease, Mary, the daughter of sir John Harcourt, and had issue by both. Ward gives some account of his family and descendants in his “Lives of the Gresham Professors.”

, a Frenchman, famous for his travels, was born at Paris in 1605. His father, who was a native of Antwerp, settled at Paris, and traded very largely in geographical maps, so that the natural inclination which Tavernier had for travelling was greatly increased, by the conversations which daily passed in his father’s house, concerning foreign countries. He began to gratify his passion so early, that, at the age of two and twenty years, he had seen the finest countries of Europe, France, England, the Low Countries, Germany, Switzerland, Poland, Hungary, and Italy. During the space of forty years he travelled six times into Turkey, Persia, and the East Indies, and by all the different routes he could take. In the course of these peregrinations, he gained a great estate by trading in jewels; and, being ennobled by Louis XIV. purchased the barony of Aubonne, near the lake of Geneva, in 1668. He had collected a great number of observations, but he had not learned either to speak or write well in French; for which reason he was forced to employ others in drawing up his relations. M. Chappuseau, with whom he lodged at Geneva, lent him his pen for the two first volumes of his travels; and M. Chapelle for the third. They have frequently been printed, and contain several curious particulars; yet not without some fables, which were told him purely to impose upon his simplicity. He is charged also with stealing from others to fill up his own accounts: thus Dr. Hyde, having cited a very long passage from Tavernier, tells us that “he had taken it like a downright plagiary from a book printed at Lyons, 1671, in 8vo, and written by father Gabriel de Chinon, who had lived in Persia thirty years.”

Tavernier' s affairs became embarrassed at the latter end of his life, by reason of the mismanagement and ill conduct of a nephew, who had in the Levant the direction of a car^o purchased in France for 222,000 livres, and which should have produced above a million. Tavernier therefore undertook a seventh journey into the East, to rectify this disorder; for which purpose he sold his barony of Aubonne in 1687 to the marquis Du Quesne, but he died, on his way, at Moscow, in July 16*9, aged eighty-four years. He was of the Protestant religion. Several parties, among which were the Dutch and the Jesuits, were offended at certain things inserted in his travels, and he has been abused in print on that account. He has one chapter where he considers the conduct of the Hollanders in Asia; and is very severe upon the directors of their East India company, by. whom he represents himself to have suffered: but he declares at the beginning that he does not blame the conduct of the Dutch in general. The first edition of his “Travels” was printed at Paris, 1676 79, 3 vols. 4to. That most common is in 6 vols. 12mo.

, a celebrated philosopher and mathematician, was born at Edmonton in Middlesex, Aug. 28, 1685. His grandfather, Nathaniel Taylor, was one of the Puritans whom Cromwell elected by later, June 14, 1653, to represent the county of Bedford in parliament. His father, John Taylor, esq. of Bifrons in Kent, is said to have still retained some of the austerity of the puritanic character, but was sensible of the power of music; in consequence of which, his son Brook studied that science early, and became a proficient in it, as he did also in drawing. He studied the classics and mathematics with a private tutor at home, and made so successful a progress, that at fifteen he was thought to be qualified for the university. In 1701 he went to St. John’s college, Cambridge, in the rank of a fellow-commoner, and immediately applied himself with zeal to the study of mathematical science, which alone could gain distinction there. It was not long before he became an author in that science, for, in 1708, he wro e his “Treatise on the Centre of Oscillation,” though it was not published till it appeared some years after in the Philosophical Transactions. In 1709, he took the degree of bachelor of laws; and about the same time commenced a correspondence with professor Keil, on subjects of the most abstruse mathematical disquisition. In 1712 he was elected into the Royal Society, to which in that year he presented three papers, one, “On the Ascent of Water betwetMi two Glass Planes.” 2. “On the Centre of Oscillation.” 3. “On the Motion of a stretched String.” He presented also, in 1713, a paper on his favourite science of music; but this, though mentioned in his correspondence with iteil, does not appear in the Transactions.

His distinguished abilities as a mathematician had now recommended him particularly to the esteem of the Royal Society, who, in 1714, elected him to the office of secretary. In the same year, he took the degree of doctor of laws, at Cambridge. In 1715, he published his “Methodus incrementorum,” and a curious essay in the Philosophical Transactions, entitled, “An Account of an Experiment for the Discovery of the Laws of Magnetic Attraction;” and, besides these, his celebrated work on perspective, entitled “New Principles of Linear Perspective: or the art of designing, on a plane, the representations of all sorts of objects, in a more general and simple method than has hitherto been done.' 7 This work has gone through several editions, and received some improvements from Mr. Colson, Lucasian professor at Cambridge. In the same; year Taylor conducted a controversy, in a correspondence with Raymond count de Montmort, respecting the tenets of Malbranche, which occasioned him to be noticed afterwards in the eulogium pronounced on that celebrated metaphysician. In 1716, by invitation from several learned men, to whom his merits were well known, Dr. Taylor visited Paris, where he was received with every mark of respect and distinction. Early in 1717, he returned to London, and composed three treatises, which are in the thirtieth volume of the Philosophical Transactions. But his health having been impaired by intense application, he was now advised to go to Aix-la-chapelle, and resigned his office of secretary to the Royal Society. After his return to England in 1719, it appears that he applied his mind to studies of a religious nature, the result of which were found in some dissertations preserved among his papers,” On the Jewish Sacrifices,' 7 &c. He did not, however, neglect his former pursuits, but amused himself with drawing, improved his treatise on linear perspective, and wrote a defence of it against the attacks of J. Bernoulli!, in a paper which appears in the thirtieth volume of the Philosophical Transactions, Bernouilli objected to the work as too abstruse, and denied the author the merit of inventing his system. It is indeed acknowledged, that though Dr. B. Taylor discovered it for himself, he was not the first who had trod the same path, as it had been done by Guido Ubaldi, in a book on perspective, published at Pesaro in 1600. The abstruseness of his work has been obviated by another author, in a work entitled, “Dr. Brook Taylor’s method of Perspective made easy, both in theory and practice, &c. by Joshua Kirby, painter;” and this publication has continued to be the manual both of artists and dilettanti. Towards the end of 1720, Dr. Taylor visited lord Bolingbroke, near Orleans, hut returned the next year, and published his last paper in the Philosophical Transactions, which described, “An Experiment made to ascertain the Proportion of Expansion in the Thermometer, with regard to the Degree of Heat.”

Dr. Brook Taylor was twice married, and both times so unfortunate as to lose his wife after a very short period. The first lady was a Miss Bridges, of Wallington in Surry, to whom he was united in 1721. As this lady, though of a good family, had little fortune, his marriage with her occasioned a rupture with his father, which lasted till after the birth of a son, who unhappily did not* long survive. He became a widower in 1723. The two following years he resided with his father at Bifrons; and, in 1725, formed a new marriage with the daughter of John Sawbridge, esq. ofOlantighin Kent. In 1729, he succeeded to his father’s estate at Bifrons, but in the following year had the misfortune to lose his second wife in child-bed; a blow which, in the impaired state of his health, he was unable to sustain. His remaining days were days of imbecility and sorrow, and he survived little more than a year. On the 29th of December, 1731, he died of a decline, in the forty-sixth year of his age, and was buried at St. Anne’s, Soho.

In the interval between 1721 and his death, he appears to have been in part disabled by ill health, and in part diverted by other objects from severe study. “A Treatise on Logarithms,” addressed to his friend lord Paisley, afterwards lord Abercorn, is almost the only fruit of his labour which has been found to belong to that period; and 'this has never been published. After the loss of his second wife, he seems to have endeavoured to divert his mind by study; and an essay, entitled “Contemplatio Philosophica,” printed, but not published, by his grandson, sir William Young, in 1793, was probably written at this time, and for this purpose. It was the effort of a strong mind, and affords a most remarkable example of the close logic of the mathematician, applied to metaphysics. The effort, however, was Tain, and equally vain were the earnest endeavours of his friends to amuse and comfort him by social gratifications. Dr. Taylor is proved by his writings to have been a finished scholar, and a profound mathematician: he is recorded to have been no less a polished gentleman, and a sound and serious Christian. It is said of him, that “he inspired partiality on his first address; he gained imperceptibly on acquaintance; and the favourable impressions which he made from genius and accomplishments, he fixed in further intimacy, by the fundamental qualities of benevolence and integrity.” His skill in drawing is also commended in the highest terms. “He drew figures,” says his biographer, “with extraordinary precision and beauty of pencil. Landscape was yet his favourite branch of design. His original landscapes are mostly painted in water-colours, but with all the richness and strength of oils. They have a. force of colour, a freedom of touch, a varied disposition of planes of distance, and a learned use of aerial as well as linear perspective, which all professional men who have seen these paintings have admired. Some pieces are compositions; some are drawn from nature: and the general characteristic of their effect may be exemplified, by supposing the bold fore-grounds of Salvator Rosa to be backed by the ession of distances, and mellowed by the sober harmony which distinguishes the productions of Caspar Poussin. The small figures, interspersed in the landscapes, would not have disgraced the pencil of the correct and classic Nicolas.”

The daughter of Dr. Brook Taylor, by his second wife, survived him; and it is to her son, sir William Young, that the public is indebted for the account of that eminent man, from which the present narrative has been drawn up.

, a very learned and celebrated prelate, the son of Nathaniel and Mary Taylor, was born in the parish of the Holy Trinity in Cambridge, where his fatin T was in the humble station of a barber: and was baptised Aug. 15, 1613. He was educated from the age of three to that of thirteen at Perse' s free-school in Cambridge, and then entered a sizer of Caius-college, in August 1626, under Mr. Bachcroft. In this society he took his degree of bachelor in 1631, and bishop Rust says, that as soon as he was graduate, he was chosen fellow. The improvement which he made in his infancy was now followed up with increasing assiduity; and to such an extent had he carried his theological studies, as to be thought worthy of admission, like Usher, into holy orders before he had attained the age of twenty-one. About the same time he took his degree of master of arts, and removed to London, where, being requested by his chamber-fellow, Mr. Risden, to supply his turn, for a short time, at the lecture in St. Paul’s cathedral, his talents attracted the attention of archbishop Laud, who preferred him to a fellowship at All Souls college, Oxford, “where he might have time, books, and company, to complete himself in those several parts of learning into which he had made so fair an entrance.” Into this fellowship he was admitted in January 1636; but, as Wood remarks, it was an arbitrary act, contrary to the statutes.

About this time also he was appointed chaplain 4n ordinary to the king, having already been made chaplain to archbishop Laud; and in March 1638, he was instituted to the rectory of Uppingham, in the county of Rutland, by Francis Dee, bishop of Peterborough, on the presentation of William Juxon, bishop of London. He had no sooner received institution into this preferment than he commenced his charge over it, and continued to reside at Uppingham until 1642. In May 1639 he was married in the church of that town to Phoebe Landisdale, or Langsdale, a lady of whose family little is known, unless that she had a brother of the medical profession, a Dr. Langsdale of Gainsborough. By her Mr. Taylor had four sons and three daughters. Of the exemplary manner in which he administered the spiritual concerns of his parish, a fair conclusion may be drawn, both from his ardent piety, and from the way in which he himself speaks of his experience in the conduct of souls. He was no less attentive and useful in managing the secular affairs of his parish, of which many proofs exist in its records.

The tranquillity of his life here was soon disturbed by the progress of that commotion which finally accomplished the destruction of the monarchical and episcopal governments. As yet he had appeared as an author only in a “Sermon on the anniversary of the Gunpowder Treason,” printed at Oxford in 1638, but had now more urgent occasion to employ his pen, while argument seemed to promise any effect, in defence of the church. With this view he produced in 1642, his “Episcopacy asserted,” which was published at Oxford by the king’s command, and ran its course with the works of bishop Hall and others on the same subject. This is dedicated to his friend and patron, sir Christopher Hatton, afterwards lord Hatton of Kirby, whose son he afterwards assisted in preparing an edition of the Psalms, according to the authorized version. This appeared in 1644, and was entitled “The Psalter of David, with Titles and Collects according to the matter of each Psalm, by the right hon. Christopher Hatton.” His biographer says, that “all that is new in this publication was the production of Taylor. The preface, which bears his name, and the titles and collects adapted to each psalm, were the efforts of his mind.” This was a very popular work during the whole of the seventeenth century; but in the tenth edition, now before us, Lond. 1683, both Hatton’s and Taylor’s names are omitted from the title and preface, yet it appears even then to have been sold by the name of “Ration’s Psalms,” as the binder has so titled it on the back.

In August 1642, when the king went to Oxford, Taylor was called upon to attend him in his capacity of chaplain, and was there honoured with a doctor’s degree, but probably lost his living, as after this time there is no trace of him at Uppingham; yet though it was sequestered, it does not appear that he relinquished his claim to it, nor, in point of fact, does any rector occur between his departure and the year 1661, when John Allington signs himself as such. Being one of the king’s retinue, Dr. Taylor probably accompanied the army, but there are no distinct particulars of his progress at this unfortunate period, and it is probable that he retired into Wales, either in the summer of 1645, or the spring of the following year. We can, however, more certainly trace his pen in the controversies of the times. When the assembly of divines at Westminster published their “Directory,” which abolished the usual forms of prayer, Dr. Taylor published “A Discourse concerning. Prayer extempore, or by pretence of the Spirit, in justification of authorised and set forms of Liturgie.” This was printed in 1646, but without the place being specified. It had been preceded, probably about 1644-, with “An apology for authorised and set forms of Liturgy against the pretence of the Spirit.” They form a very able defence of liturgy.

While in Wales, he was obliged to maintain himself and family by keeping school, at Newton, in Carmarthenshire, where he was assisted by Mr. William Wyatt of St. John’s college, Oxford, and they jointly produced, in 164-7, “A new and easie institution of Grammar,” London, 12mo. This scarce little volume has two dedications, one in Latin to lord Hatton by Wyatt, the other in English, by Taylor, addressed to lord Hatton’s son. The eminence of Dr. Taylor’s learning, and the integrity of his principles procured him scholars, who, as his biographer says, “having, as it were, received instruction from this prophet in the wilderness, were transplanted to the universities.” He found also a generous patron in Richard Vaughan, earl of Carbery, who resided at Golden Grove, the seat of his ancestors, in the parish of Llanfihangel Aberbythick, near Llandillo Fawr, in Carmarthenshire. Into this hospitable family he was received as chaplain, and had a stipend allotted him, as he himself intimates in his dedication to lord Carbery, prefixed to his “Course of Sermons.” It would appear that persecution had followed him into Wales, before he obtained his present comfortable asylum, but in what manner or to what extent is not known.

The first production of the quiet he now enjoyed, was his “Liberty of Prophecy ing,” 1647, 4to, written in behalf of the clergy of the church of England, who were now generally excluded from their benefices, and forbidden to minister according to her liturgy. This was republished in 1650, along with his preceding works, and with the addition of the “Life of Christ,” in 2 vols. 8vo. Of his “Liberty of Prophecying,” his biographer remarks that there are few writings in which learning and modesty, charity and argument, are more happily blended. His next production was “The Great Exemplar,” the purpose of which he states to be, “to advance the necessity, and to declare the manner and parts of a good life; to invite some persons to the consideration of all the branches of it, by intermixing something of pleasure with the use; and others by such portions, as would better entertain them than a romance.” In 1650 he published one of his most popular and standard works, “The Rule and Exercises of Holy Living,” of which the twenty. eighth edition was published in 1810. In Oct. 1650, he lost his valuable patroness the countess of Carbery, and delivered a funeral sermon on that melancholy occasion, which was published the same year.

Previous to the death of the countess of Carbery, Taylor had been occupied in writing his “Rule and Exercises of Holy Dying,” and that part of his volume of “Sermons,” which was preached at Golden Grove, in the summer halfyear. These, with the addition of the funeral sermon lately delivered, and a “Discourse of the Divine institution, necessity, and sacredness of the office Ministerial,” he published in 1651. His “Holy Living” and “Holy Dying” have been supposed by their late editor, the rev. Thomas Thirwall, to have been Dr. Taylor’s favourite works, and they are certainly elaborated with more than his usual care; and the latter, as being occasioned by the countess of Carbery’s illness, comes more from the heart. His “Sermons” have been ably analysed by his biographer, and are indeed to be recommended to the attention of the present age, rather in the form of extracts or selections, than as originally published.

In 1652 Dr. Taylor published “A short Catechism, composed for the use of the schools in South Wales,” which he afterwards reprinted under the head “Credenda” in his “Golden Grove.” In the same year he consented to the publication of a “Discourse on Baptism, its institution, and efficacy upon all believers,” which was only part of a projected work of a larger description. This was followed, in 1653, by another collection of “Twenty five Sermons” for the winter season, making, together with the former, a course of sermons for the whole year. These, with ten additional, preached after the restoration, were republished in one volume folio, and before 1678 had gone through five editions. In 1654, he published “The Heal Presence and Spiritual of Christ in the blessed sacrament proved against the doctrine of Transubstantiation.” This he dedicated to Warner, bishop of Rochester, with whom he afterwards engaged in controversy. In 1655, the short catechism he had published for the youth of Wales, considerably enlarged, was republished under the title of “The Guide of Infant Devotion, or the Golden Grove, a manual of daily prayers and litanies fitted to the days of the week: containing a short summary of what is to be believed, practised, and desired. Also festival hymns, according to the manner of the ancient church.”

In the same year appeared his “Unum necessarium, or the Doctrine arrd Practice of Repentance.” This, says his biographer, led him into the consideration of original sin, and its effects; points which were at that time much controverted between the Arminian and Calvinistic parties, and he adopted the opinion of the former, carrying it to a degree that the latter utterly condemned, and which the church of England does not approve. His sentiments with regard to the doctrine of original sin were then, and are at present, generally considered heterodox; and are irreconcilable to the tenets of our church, as laid down in her liturgy, articles, and homilies. It was this, therefore, which drew him into controversy. His friend, the bishop of Rochester, Dr. Warner, shewed his disapprobation of the chapter of original sin, in a letter addressed to Dr. Taylor, dated July 28, 1656. It was also censured by Dr. Sanderson, afterwards bishop of Lincoln, and others, to whom he endeavoured to reply in two tracts, the one “Deus justificatus, or a Vindication of the Glory of the divine attributes, &c.” and the other “A further explication of the doctrine of original sin, &c.”

During some part of this controversy, he was in confinement in Chepstow castle, from a suspicion that he was concerned in the insurrection of the royalists at Salisbury, but appears to have been released after the autumn of 1656, when he was at home, and lost two of his sons by the small pox. After this, in the beginning of 1657, he went to London, having determined to relinquish altogether hfs situation in Wales; and officiated to a private congregation of loyalists, but not without great danger from the prevailing p.my. During the preceding year, a treatise appeared which his biographer says is attributed to Dr. Taylor by Anthony Wood, and still occupies a place in the list of his writings, entitled “A Discourse of auxiliary Beauty, or artificial handsornenesse. In point of conscience between two ladies;” but this appears to be an oversight, for Anthony Wood attributes this little volume to Dr. Gauden, and not to Dr. Taylor, and gives 1662 as the date, and not 1656.

In 1657 Dr. Taylor collected several of his smaller pieces, with collateral improvements, into a folio volume, and published them under the title of “A collection of Polemical and Moral Discourses;” adding two hitherto unpublished, a “Discourse on Friendship,” and “Two letters to persons changed in their Religion.” The former was addressed^ Mrs. Katherine Philips, and is in point of style and sentiment one of the best of Taylor’s pieces, who is never more excellent than when on subjects of morals. This volume reached a third edition in 1674, but consists of somewhat different materials, and has a different title, being now called “Symbolum Theologicum, &c.”

In this year, 1657, Dr. Taylor was induced by a new friend and patron, lord Conway, to go over to Ireland, and reside at Portmore, the mansion of that nobleman in the county of Antrim. This situation being adapted to study and contemplation, was to him a delightful retreat; and here he employed his time in arranging the treasures with which his mind was stored, and in correspondence with men of literature. Here he accomplished the largest and most laborious of his works, the “Ductor Dubitantium, or the Rule of Conscience in all her general measures; serving as a great instrument for the determination of cases of conscience,” 1660, fol. Of this work it has been said, without exaggeration, that it is the production of retentive memory and laborious research, of learning various and profound, and of reasoning close and dispassionate. The demand for this work has lately risen very considerably; and what we can remember holding a very inferior, if any place, in sale catalogues, is now a prominent article with a handsome price. It is undoubtedly a very interesting work to men that delight in the exercise of the reasoning power, but its real utility in satisfying scruples of conscience is, we think, not quite so apparent.

This work was dedicated to Charles II. the restoration having taken place. Dr. Taylor appears to have left Ireland early in the spring of 1660, and arriving at London, subscribed the declaration of the nobility and gentry that adhered to the late king in and about that city, and when the vacant sees came to be filled up, bishop Lesley was promoted to that of Meath, and Dr. Taylor succeeded him in that of Down and Connor. While yet bishop-elect, and before he left London, he published his book on the sacrament, entitled “The Worthy Communicant, &c.” He then went over to Ireland, and was consecrated, and about the same time he was chosen vice-chancellor of the univerity of Dublin, an office which he held until his death. On opening the parliament in May 1661, he preached before the members of both houses at St. Patrick’s, and his sermon was printed at London in 4to. The same year, on the translation of Dr. Robert Lesley to the see of Raphoe, the king, by grant of June 21, committed to the bishop of Down and Connor, the administration of the see of Dromore; which he held till his death. But it was no desire of enriching himself that induced the bishop to accept of this new charge. The dilapidated state of the church and ecclesiastical property at this juncture clearly evince his conduct to have been grounded upon a higher principle; and rinding not only the spiritual affairs of this diocese in disorder, but the choir of the cathedral of Dromore in ruins, he undertook to rebuild it, and on this occasion his daughter Joanna presented the plate for the communion. In the same year he held a visitation at Lisnegarvy; at which he issued “Rules and advices to the clergy of his diocese for their deportment in their personal and public capacities.” These form a very useful compendium' of ministerial duty, and have been often recommended by subsequent prelates.

In the autumn of 1661, bishop Taylor, foreseeing a vacancy in the deanery of Connor, wrote to Cambridge for some able person, who might fill that dignity, and the proposition being made to Dr. George Rust, he was preferred as soon as the vacancy took place (See Rust); and thus a friendship commenced between these two great men, which continued with mutual warmth and admiration till it was interrupted by death. Dr. Rust was the survivor, and succeeded bishop Taylor in the see of Dromore, and preached his funeral sermon. In 1662-3, bishop Taylor published “Three Sermons” which he had preached at Christ’s church, Dublin “Eleven Sermons,” preached since the restoration and his “Discourse on Confirmation” In July 1663, he preached the funeral sermon of Dr. John Bramhall, archbishop of Armagh, from whose hands he had received confirmation. This was published, and contains a well-drawn character of the primate. In the same year, at the request of the bishops of Ireland, he published “A Dissuasive from Popery, addressed to the people of Ireland.” This work went through several editions, and some answers being published by the popish party, he wrote a second part of his “Dissuasive,” which however, did not appear until after his death. He had also began a discourse on the beatitudes, when he was attacked by a fever, which proved fatal in ten days. He died at Lisburn, August 13, 1667, and was interred in the choir of the cathedral of Dromore. Dr. Rust, as we have already observed, preached his funeral sermon, and entered largely into his character. He was indisputably, as Dr. Rust represents him, a man of the acutest penetration and sagacity, the richest and most lively imagination, the solidest judgment, and the profoundest learning. He was perfectly versed in all the Greek and Roman writers, and was not unacquainted with the refined wits of later ages, whether French or Italian. His skill was great, both in civil and canon law, in casuistical divinity, in fathers, and ecclesiastical writers ancient and modern. He was a man of the greatest humility and piety: it is believed, says Dr. Rust, that he spent the greatest part of his time in heaven, and that his solemn hours of prayer took up a considerable portion of his life. He was indeed a great devotee, and had in him much of natural enthusiasm. Dr. Rust concludes his character with observing, that “he had the goodhumour of *a gentleman, the eloquence of an orator, the fancy of a poet, the aruter.ess of H schoolman, the profoundness of a philosopher, the wisdom of a chancellor, the sagacity of a prophet, the rrnson of an angel, and the piety of a saint. He had devotion enough for a cloister, learning enough for an university, and wit enough for a college of virtuosi; and had his parts and endowments been parcelled out among his clergy that he left In-hind him, it would, perhaps, have made one of the otst dioceses in the world.” Yet amidst the blaze of this panegyric, we must not forget that dispassionate criticism will assign as bishop Taylor’s highest excellence, his powers of moral suasion. He is always seen to most advantage as a moral writer, and his genius is every where inspired and invigorated by a love of what is good. Nor must it be forgot that he was one of the refiners of our language. His biographer has justly said that “English prose was in his time in a progressive state. It had been advanced very far by the genius of Sidney and the wisdom of Hooker; but the pedantry of the reign of James had done much to eclipse its lustre. In Taylor it broke out from its obscurity with energy and brightness. His polemical discourses exhibit a specimen of English composition superior to any that had gone before.”

It is not ascertained whether his wife survived him; but it is well known that he left three daughters, Phosbe, Joanna, and Mary. The eldest died single; the second married Mr. Harrison, a barrister in Ireland, and the youngest became the wife of Dr. Francis Marsh, afterwards archbishop of Dublin. In this sketch of bishop Taylor’s life, we have principally followed a recent valuable publication, “The Life of the Rt. Rev. Jeremy Taylor, D. D. &c. By the rev. Henry Kaye Bonney, M. A. of Christ’s college, Cambridge, prebendary of Lincoln, and rector of King’s Cliffe, in the county of Northampton,” 1815, 8vo.

, usually called the Water- Poet, from his being a waterman as well as a poet, and certainly more of the former than the latter, was born in Gloucestershire about 1580. Wood says he was born in the city of Gloucester, and went to school there, but he does not appear to have learned more than his accidence, as appears by some lines of his own. From this school he was brought to London, and bound apprentice to a waterman, whence he“was either pressed or went voluntarily into the naval service, for he was at the taking of Cadiz un;ler the earl of Essex, in 1596, when only sixteen years old, and was afterward* in Germany, Bohemia, Scotland, as may be collected from various passages in his works. At home he was many years collector, for the lieutenant of the Tower, of the wines which were his fee from all ships which brought them up the Thames; but was at last discharged because he would not purchase the place at more than it was worth. He calls himself the” King’s Water Poet,“and the” Queen’s Waterman," and wore the badge of the royal arms. While * waterman, he very naturally had a great hatred to coaches, and besides writing a satire against them, he fancied that the watermen were starving for want of employment, and presented a petition to James I. which was referred to certain commissioners, of whom sir Francis Bacon was one, to obtain a prohibition of all play-houses except those on the Bank-side, that the greater part of the inhabitants of London, who were desirous of seeing plays, might be compelled to go by water. Taylor himself is said to have undertaken to support this singular petition, and was prepared to oppose before the commissioners the arguments of the players, but the commission was dissolved before it came to a hearing.

When the rebellion commenced in 1642, Taylor left London, and retired to Oxford, where he was much noticed, and esteemed for his facetious turn. He kept a common victualling house there, and wrote pasquils against the round-heads; by which he thought, and Wood too seems to think, that he did great service to the royal cause. After the garrison at Oxford had surrendered, he retired to Westminster, kept a public-house in Phoenix-alley, near Long-acre, and continued constant in his loyalty to the king; after whose death, he set up a sign over his door of a mourning crown; but that proving offensive, he pulled it down, and hung up his own picture, with these verses under it:

And on the other side,

He died in 1654, aged seventy-four, as Wood was informed by his nephew, a painter of Oxford, who gave his portrait to the picture-gallery there in 1655. This nephew’s own portrait, also by himself, is on the staircase. His works were published under the title of “All the Workes of John Taylor the water-poet, being sixty and three in number, collected into one volume by the author, with sundry new additions; corrected, revised, and newly imprinted,” 1630, folio. These pieces, which are not destitute of natural humour, abound with low jingling wit, which pleased and prevailed in the reign of James I. and which too often bordered upon bombast and nonsense. He was countenanced by a few persons of rank and ingenuity; but was the darling and admiration of numbers of the rabble. He was himself the father of some cant words, and he has adopted others which were only in the mouths of the lowest vulgar. From the date of this volume it is evident that it does not contain those “pasquils” and satires which Wood says he wrote at Oxford, and which perhaps it might have been unsafe to avow, or re-publish, as he did not survive the times of the usurpation. Five articles, however, whose titles may be seen in the “Bibliotheca Angb-Poetica,” were published between 1637 and 1641. One of them is the life of old Par, printed in 1635, when Par is said to have been living at the age of one hundred and fifty-two.

, a learned dissenting teacher, was born near Lancaster in 1694, and educated at Whitehaven. He settled first at Kirksteadin Lincolnshire, where he preached to a very small congregation, and '.aught a grammar school for the support of his family, near twenty years; but in 1733, his merit in this obscure situation being known, he was unanimously chosen by a presbyterian congregation at Norwich, where he preached many years, and avowed his sentiments to be hostile to the Trinitarian doctrine. From this city he was, in <757, invited to Warrington in Lancashire, to superintend an academy formed there; being judged the fittest person to give this new institution a proper dignity and reputation in the world. With this invitation, which was warmly and importunately enforced, he complied; but some differences about precedency and authority, as well as some disputes about the principles of morals, soon involved, and almost endangered, the very being of the academy, and subjected him to such treatment as he often said, “would shorten his days:” and so it proved. He had a very good constitution, which he had preserved by temperance, but it was now undermined by a complication of disorders. “The last time I saw him,” says Dr. Harwood, “he bitterly lamented his unhappy situation, and his being rendered (all proper authority, as a tutor, being taken from him) utterly incapable of being any longer useful, said his life was not any object of desire to him, when his public usefulness was no more; and repeated with great emotion some celebrated lines to this purpose out of Sophocles.”

He died March 5, 1761, having gone to bed as well as usual the night before, only complaining a little of a pressure on his stomach. Of his writings, the first he published was “A prefatory Discourse to a Narrative of Mr. Joseph Rawson’s Case;” who was excluded from communion with the congregational church at Nottingham, for asserting the unity and supremacy of God the Father. In 1740, “The Scripture doctrine of Original Sin,” in which that doctrine is denied. This has gone through three editions. In 1745, “A Paraphrase on the Romans” republished by bishop Watson in his “Tracts,” and recommended by Dr. Bentham in his “Reflections on the study of Divinity;” and the same year, “A Scripture Catechism with Proofs.” In 1750, “A Collection of Tunes in various Airs, with a Scheme for supporting the spirit and practice of Psalmody in congregations.” In 1751, “The Importance of Children; or, Motives to the good Education of Children.” In 1753, “The Scripture Doctrine of Atonement.” In 1754, his great work, the labour of his whole life, “An Hebrew English Concordance,” in 2 vols. folio, which will remain a lasting monument of his indefatigable industry and critical skill. The same year, “The Lord’s Supper explained upon Scripture principles.” In 1755, “The Covenant of Grace in defence of infant baptism.” In 1757, “A Charge delivered at the ordination of Mr. Smithson.” In 1756, “A Sermon,” preached at the opening of the new chapel in Norwich. In 1759, “An Examination of Dr. Hutcheson’s Scheme of Morality.” His last performance, in 1760, was “A Sketch of Moral Philosophy;” which he drew up for the use of his own pupils, and as introductory to “Wollaston’s Religion of Nature.”

From his first settling at Warrington as tutor, he spent all his leisure hours in reviewing his “Concordance,” collating passages in an alphabetical order, and correcting the English translation. He had made a considerable advance in this useful work, when death seized him. Dr. Taylor somposed, and fairly transcribed, a number of discourses On moral, critical, and practical subjects, sufficient to make four volumes in 8vo, which he designed for the press, and intended to be published after his death: and accordingly his “Scheme of Scripture Divinity” was afterwards published by his son. Dr. Taylor deviated very early from the orthodox system, at first adopting the sentiments of Dr. Clarke on the subject of the Trinity, but became at last a Socinian, which Dr. Clarke was not. Gilbert Wakefield gives a singular character of Dr. Taylor: “The reader,” says Wakefield, “who is acquainted with the writings of this very learned, liberal, and rational divine, cannot fail to be impressed with sentiments highly favourable to the gentleness and forbearance of their author: for even the meekness of Christianity itself is exhibited in his prefaces and occasional addresses to the reader. But he was, in reality, a very peevish and angry disputant in conversation, and dictatorial even to intolerance. So imperfect a judgment may be formed of the mildness or asperity of any author from the correspondent quality of his writings.” But an authority, equally valid with that of Mr. Wakefield, praises Dr. Taylor’s “agreeable deportment in society, free from pedantry and superciliousness, and marked by kindness and affability;” yet Mr. Wakefield’s character of him is a curious document, as affording a perfect contrast to his own.

, a learned critic and philologist, was born at Shrewsbury, and baptised at St; Alkmund’s church June 22, 1704. His father followed the humble occupation of a barber, and his son wasdesigned for the same business but a strong passion for letters, which early displayed itself, being providentially fostered by the generous patronage of a neighbouring gentleman, enabled young Taylor to fill a far higher station in society than that to which he was entitled by his birth. The steps which led to this happy change in his situation are worthy of notice. Taylor, the father, being accustomed to attend Edward Owen, of Condover, esq. in his capacity of a barber, that gentleman used to inquire occasionally into the state of his family, for what trade he designed his son, &c. These inquiries never failed to produce a lamentation from the old man, of the untoward disposition of his son Jack, “whom,” said he, “I cannot get to dress a wig or shave a beard, so perpetually is he poring over books.” Such complaints, often repeated, at length awakened the attention of Mr. Owen, who determined to send him to the university, chiefly at his own expence. St. John’s in Cambridge, which has an intimate connection with the free-school of Shrewsbury, naturally presented itself as the place of his academical education; and Mr. Taylor was doubtless assisted by one of the exhibitions founded in the college for the youth of that school. Under this patronage he pursued his studies in the university, and regularly took his degrees, that of B. A. in 1727, and of M. A. in 1731, and in the preceding year was chosen fellow. Thus employed in his favourite occupations, the periods of his return into his native country were the only times which threw a transient clouJ over the happy tenor of his life. On such occasions he was expected to visit his patron, and to partake of the noisy scenes of riotous jollity exhibited in the hospitable mansion of a country gentleman of those days. The gratitude of young Taylor taught him the propriety of making these sacrifices of his own comfort; but it could not prevent him from sometimes whispering his complaints into the ears of his intimate friends. A difference of political opinion afforded a more serious ground of difference. A great majority of the gentry of Shropshire was at that period strenuous in their good wishes for the abdicated family. Though educated at Cambridge, Taylor retained his attachment to toryism, but did not adopt all its excesses; and he at length forfeited the favour of his patron, without the hopes of reconciliation, hy refusing to drink a Jacobite toast on his bare knees, as was then the custom. This refusal effectually precluded him from all hopes of sharing in the great ecclesiastical patronage at that time enjoyed by the Condover family, and inclined him, perhaps, to abandon the clerical profession for the practice of a civilian. But however painful to his feelings this quarrel with his benefactor might prove, he had the consolation to reflect that it could not now deprive him of the prospect of an easy competence. His character as a scholar was established in the university; he was become a fellow and tutor of his conege; and on the 30th of Jan. 1730, he was appointed to deliver the Latin oration then annually pronounced in St. Mary’s before the university on that solemn anniversary; and at the following commencement he was selected to speak the music speech, both of which were printed. This last performance, of which but two instances occur in the last century, viz. 1714 and 1730, was supposed to require an equal share of learning and genius: for, besides a short compliment in Latin to the heads of the university, the orator was expected to produce a humourous copy of English verses on the fashionable topics of the day, for the entertainment of the female part of his audience: and in the execution of this office (derived like the Terras filius of Oxford, from the coarse festivities of a grosser age) sometimes indulged a licentiousness which surprises one on perusal. The music speech of Mr. Taylor is sufficiently free; and, though it does some credit to his poetical talents, is not very civil to his contemporaries of Oxford, (whom he openly taxes with retaining their fellowships and wives at the expence of their oaths) or to the members of Trinity college, in his own university, whom he ironically represents as the only members of Cambridge who could wipe off the stigma of impoliteness imputed to them by the sister university. This speech was printed by his young friend and fellow collegian Mr. Bowyer, and the publication concludes with an ode designed to have been set to music. These were not the only effusions of Mr. Taylor’s muse, for in the Gent. Mag. 1779, p. 365, are some verses by him on the marriage of Lady Margaret Harley to the duke of Portland, and others reprinted by Mr. Nichols.

In March 1732, he was appointed librarian, which office he held but a short time, being in 1734 appointed registrar of the university. From this time Cambridge became his principal residence, but he was in London in 1739, at which time his celebrated edition of “Lysias” appeared. This edition, which evinces his intimate knowledge of the Greek language and of Attic law, is executed, as to the external embellishments of type and paper, in a manner which reflects great credit on the press of Mr. Bowyer, from which it proceeded. Mr. Taylor’s subsequent publications issued from the university press of Cambridge. In 1740 he took his degree of LL. D. The subject which he chose for his act, is curious, and worthy of our author. A. Gellius had related, on the authority of the ancient jurists, that by the laws of the ten tables the body of the insolvent debtor was cut in pieces and distributed among his creditors. Dr. Taylor undertook to set this in a new light, and to shew that it was the property and not person of the debtor that was liable to this division; and if he did not succeed in producing complete conviction, his treatise was at least calculated to increase the opinion already entertained of his erudition and ingenuity. It was published in 1742, under the title of “Commentarius ad legem decemviralem de inope debitore in partes dissecando,” with an appendix of curious papers. Although he was admitted of Doctors Commons in this year 1742, it does not appear that he practised as a civilian, but about this time there was a design to employ his talents in a civil station, as under-secretary of state to lord Granville.

In the following year the learning and critical abilities of Dr. Taylor were again called forth. The late earl of Sandwich, on his return from a voyage to the Greek islands, of which his own account has been published since his death, and which shews him to have been a nobleman of considerable learning, brought with him a marble from Delos. That island, “which lay in the very centre of the then trading world,” (to use the words of our learned countryman, Mr. Clarke,) “was soon seized by the Athenians and applied to the purposes of a commercial repository: and this subtle and enterprizing people, to encrease the sacreclness and inviolability of its character, celebrated a solemn festival there once in every olympiad.” The marble in question contained a particular of all the revenues and appointments set apart for that purpose. From the known skill of Dr. Taylor on all points of Grecian antiquity it was submitted to his inspection, and was published by him in 1743, under the title of “Marmor Sandvicense cum commentario et notis;” and never probably was an ancient inscription more ably or satisfactorily elucidated. In the same year he also published the only remaining oration of Lycurgus, and one of Demosthenes, in a small octavo volume, with an inscription to his friend Mr. Charles Yorke.

This volume is printed on the same type with, and was intended as a specimen of, his projected edition of all the works of that great orator; a task which “either the course of his studies, or the general consent of the public, had,” he says, “imposed upon him.” While he was engaged in this laborious undertaking he received an accession of dignity and emolument; being in the beginning of 174-4 appointed by the bishop of Lincoln, Dr. John Thomas, to the office of chancellor of that extensive diocese, in the room of Mr. Reynolds. For his introduction to this prelate he was indebted to the kindness of his great patron lord Granville, as we learn from the dedication of the third volume of his Demosthenes, which came out in the spring of 1748, the publication of the first volume being postponed, that the life of the great orator and the other prolegomena might appear With more correctness.

In April 1751, Dr Taylor succeeded the rev. Christopher Anstey, D. D. in the rectory of Lawford in Essex, a living belonging to St. John’s college, and the only parochial cure he ever enjoyed; and in Jan. 1753, he became archdeacon of Buckingham. After he took orders he was esteemed a very eminent and successful preacher; but he has only two occasional sermons in print. When the late marquis of Bath and his brother were sent to St. John’s, they were placed under the care of our author by his patron lord Granville, maternal grandfather of these two young noblemen. This charge led to his work on the “Elements of Civil Law,” 1755, in 4to, and which was formed from the papers drawn up by him to instruct his noble pupils in the origin of natural law, the rudiments of civil life, and of social duties. If the work, as published, partakes somewhat too much of the desultory character of such loose papers; if its reasoning is occasionally confused, and its digressions sometimes irrelevant, it is impossible to deny it the prgise of vast reading and extensive information on various subjects or polite learning and recondite antiquity. It quickly came to a second edition, and has also been published in an abridged form. It did not however escape without some severe animadversions.

The learned world at Cambridge was at that time divided into two parties: the polite scholars and the philologists. The former, at the head of which were Gray, Mason, &c. superciliously confined all merit to their own circle, and looked down with fastidious contempt on the rest of the world. It is needless to observe that Dr. Taylor belonged to the latter class. Dr. Kurd, a member of the former, a writer of celebrity, and eminent for his attachment to Warburton, of whose “school” he was a distinguished disciple, in a most unjustifiable pamphlet, published the same year, 1755, and directed against the amiable and modest Jortin, steps out of his way to express his contempt of Taylor, which was but the prelude to a more severe attack from Warburton himself. Our author in his Elements bad expressed his opinioa that the persecutions which the first Christians experienced from the Roman emperors proceeded not from any peculiar disapprobation of their tenets, but from a jealousy entertained of their nocturnal assemblies. In expressing this opinion, Taylor did not mention, and perhaps did not even think of Warburton: but as the latter in his Divine Legation had derived these persecutions from another source, the absurdities of Pagan religion and the iniquities of Pagan politics; the holding, and much more the publishing, of a contrary notion by any contemporary was too great an offence for that haughty dogmatist to pass with impunity. His prefaces and notes were, as was wittily observed of him, the established places of execution for the punishment of all who did not implicitly adopt liis sentiments, and having occasion soon after (in 1758) to publish a new edition of that celebrated work, he seized that opportunity to chastise Taylor, with all the virulence, wit, and ingenuity of distortion, which he could command.

An attack so insolent and unprovoked could not injure the established character of Dr. Taylor, or ruffle his temper, and he wisely abstained from taking any notice of it. There appeared however in 1758 a pamphlet, entitled “Impartial Remarks upon the preface of Dr. Warhurton, in which he has taken uncommon liberties with the character of Dr. Taylor;” but it is said to be a poor performance, the only information which it contains being the anecdote in the preceding note as to the real origin of the dispute. Taylor seems at this time to have been better employed than in controversy, as the second volume of his “Demosthenes” appeared in May 1757, and in the following July he was made a canon residentiary of St. Paul’s. For this appointment, which was the summit of his preferment, he was indebted to his steady and active patron lord Granville, who was now a member of administration. In consequence of this dignity, he resigned the office of registrar, in 1758, and quitted Cambridge to reside in London. Here he still proceeded to collect and arrange the materials for the first volume of his Demosthenes, but the expectations of the learned were frustrated by his death, which took place on the 14th day of April, 1766, at his house in Amen Corner, Paternoster Row. He was buried in the vault under St. Paul’s, under the litany desk, where is an epitaph.

As Dr. Taylor had been for many years in the receipt of an ample, and even splendid income, it might have been expected that he should die in affluent circumstances. But this was by no means the case. He lived in a handsome style, and expended a large sum of money in books. His library at the time of his death was large and valuable. This, with the residue of his fortune, for the support of an exhibition at St. John’s, he bequeathed to the school where he had received his education reserving, however, to his friend and physician Dr. Askew all his Mss. and such of his printed books as contained his marginal annotations. The use which Askew made of this bequest has been severely censured. The latter clause was enforced with the utmost rigour, so as to include a vast number of books, which the testator intended to form part of his donation to the schools; and Dr. Askew is thought to have been still more reprehensible in putting into Reiske’s hands the indigested and unfinished mass of papers belonging to Taylor’s proposed first volume, who printed them just as he had received them, and then attacked the critical skill of their author.

In private life, Dr. Taylor’s character was extremely amiable: his temper remarkably social, and his talents fitted to adorn and gladden society. The even tenour of his employments furnished him with an uninterrupted flow of spirits. Though he was so studiously devoted to letters, —though as an intimate friend and fellow-collegian of his informs us, “if you called on him in college after dinner, you were sure to find him sitting at an old oval walnut table, covered with books,—yet when you began to make apologies for disturbing a person so well employed, he immediately told you to advance, and called out,” John, John, bring pipes and glasses,“and instantly appeared as cheerful and good-humoured as if he had not been at all engaged or interrupted. Suppose now you had staid as long as you would, and been entertained by him most agreeably, you took your leave and got halt-way down the stairs, but recollecting somewhat that you had to say to him, you go in again; the bottles and glasses were gone, the books had expanded themselves so as to re-occupy the whole table, and he was just as much buried in them as when you first came in.”

He loved a game at cards, and we are told that he played well. He was also an excellent relater of a story, of which he had a large and entertaining collection; but like most story-tellers was somewhat too apt to repeat them. His friend, the facetious and good-humoured Henry Hubbard of Ernanuel, with whom he greatly associated, would sometimes, in the evenings which they used to pass alone together, use the freedom of jocosely remonstrating with him upon the subject, and when the Doctor began one of his anecdotes, would cry out, “Ah, dear Doctor, pray do not let us have that story any more, I have heard it so often;” to which Taylor often humourously replied, *' Come Harry, let me tell it this once more," and would then go on with his narration. Many other curious anecdotes of Dr. Taylor, with much of his correspondence, may be seen in Mr. Nichols’s third volume along with the lives of many of his learned contemporaries.

, an able English antiquary, who is introduced by Anthony Wood with an alias Domville or D'Omville, we know not why, was the son of Syivanus Taylor, one of the commissioners for ejecting those of the clergy, who were called “scandalous and insufficient ministers,” and one of the pretended high court of justice for the trial of Charles I. Silas was born at Harley near Muchweniock in Shropshire, July 16, 1624, and after some education at Shrewsbury and Westminster-schools, became a commoner of New-Inn-hall, Oxford, in 1641. He had given proof of talents fit to compose a distinguished scholar, both in the classics and mathematics, when his father took him from the university, and made him join the parliamentary army, in which he bore a captain’s commission. When the war was over, his father procured him to be made a sequestrator of the royalists in Herefordshire, but although he enriched himself considerably in this office, and had a moiety of the bishop’s palace at Hereford settled on him, he conducted himself with such kindness and moderation as to be beloved of the king’s party. At the restoration, he of course lost all he had gained as the agent of usurpation, but his mild behaviour in that ungracious office was not forgot, and by the interest of some whom he had obliged, he was appointed commissary of ammunition, &c. at Dunkirk, and about 1665 was made keeper of the king’s stores and storehouses for shipping, &c. at Harwich. The profits of this situation were probably not great, for he was much in debt at the time of his death, which occasioned his valuable collections and Mss. to be seized by his creditors, and dispersed as of no value. He died Nov. 4, 1678, and was buried in the chancel of the church of Harwich.

He appears to have been an early inquirer into the antiquities of his country, and while in power ransacked the libraries of the cathedrals of Hereford and Worcester for valuable Mss., among which was the original grant of king Edgar, whence the kings of England derive their sovereignty of the seas. This was printed in Selden’s “Mare clausum.” He left large materials for a history of Herefordshire, which Dr. Rawliuson understood to have been deposited in lord Oxford’s library; but in the Harleian catalogue we find only part of his history of Herefordshire at the end of ms. 6766, and extracts from Doomsday, >fo. 6356. Mr. Dale, who published a “History of Harwich” from Taylor’s papers, in 1730, speaks of these collections as being lately, if not now, in the hands of sir Edward Harley of Brompton-Brian, grandfather of the first earl of Oxford. The only work Taylor published, was the “History of Gavelkind, with the etymology thereof; containing also an assertion, that our English laws are, for the most part, those that were used by vthe ancient Brytains, notwithstanding the several conquests of the Romans, Saxons, Danes, and Normans. With some observations and remarks upon many especial occurrences of British and English history. To which is added, a short history of William the conqueror, written in Latin by an anonymous author in the time of Henry I.” Lond. 1663, 4to. In this work he carries both the name and custom of Gavelkind further back than was done by his predecessor on the same subject, Sornner. In all material points he confirms the opinion of Somner, who answers his objections in marginal notes on a copy of his book, which, with a correct copy of his own, is in Canterbury library. Taylor’s work we should suppose of great rarity, as no copy occurs in Mr. Cough’s collection given to Oxford, or in that sold in London. Wood says, that Taylor wrote many pamphlets before the restoration, but as they were without his name, he did not think proper to acknowledge them. He speaks also of Taylor’s abilities not only in the theory, but practice of music, and as a composer of anthems, and the editor of “Court Ayres, &c.” 1655, 8vo, printed by John Playford. His name, however, seems to have escaped the attention of our musical historians.

, one of the most eminent and learned of the puritan divines, was born at Richmond in Yorkshire, in 1576, and was educated at Christ’s-college, Cambridge, of which he became a fellow, and acquired great fame for his literary accomplishments. He was chosen Hebrew lecturer of his college. At what time he took holy orders is not mentioned, but he appears to have incurred censure for non-conformity in one or two instances. On leaving the university, he settled first at Watford in Hertfordshire, then at Reading in Berkshire, and afterwards, in 1625, he obtained the living of St. Mary Alderm anbury, London, which he retained for the remainder of his life, lu his early days he had preached at Paul’s cross before queen Elizabeth, and afterwards before king James, and was every where admired and followed for the plainness, perspicuity, and soundness of his doctrines, and the great zeal and earnestness with which he laboured in the pastoral office for the space of thirty years. While he partook of the zeal, common to all his brethren, against popery, he was also an avowed enemy to Arminianism and Antinomianism. He died in the beginning of 1632, in the fifty-fifth year of his^ge, and was interred in St. Mary’s church. Leigh, Fuller, Wood, and all his contemporaries unite in giving him a high character for learning, piety, and usefulness. He was likewise a voluminous writer; his works, most of them printed separately, were collected in 3 vols. fol. 1659. They consist of commentaries, which were generally the substance of what he had preached on particular parts of scripture; and single sermons, or treatises. He and Dr. Thomas Beard of Huntingdon, were joint compilers of that singular and once very popular collection of stories, entitled “The Theatre of God’s Judgments,” 1648, &c. fol.

, a learned and laborious French writer, was born at Montpellier Jan. 28, 1632. He studied at Lunel, Orange, and other places, and having acquired a knowledge of Greek, Hebrew, and theology, he went to Paris, where he formed an acquaintance with some eminent men of the day, Pelisson, Conrart, Menage, and others, and on his return received the degree of doctor of laws at Bourges. He then went to Nismes, and practised at the bar, became a counsellor of the city, and a member of the Protestant consistory, and a member also of the newly-founded academy. In 1685, on the revocation of the edict of Nantz, he found it necessary to retire to Switzerland, and finally to Berlin, where the elector of Brandenburgh gave him the title of counsellor of embassy, and historiographer, with an annual pension of 300 crowns, which was afterwards increased. He died at Berlin, Sept. 7, 1715, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. He published several translations, from the works of St. Chrysostom; the lives of Calvin and Beza, from the Latin of Galeacius Carraccioli, and of Francis Spira; the eloges of eminent men, from Thuanus, of which there have been four editions, the best that of Leyden, 1715, 4 vols. 12mo; the epistle of St. Clement to the Corinthians, from the Greek; a treatise on martyrdom, from the Latin of Heidegger, &c. &c. This most useful work is entitled “Catalogus auctorum qui librorum catalogos, indices, bibliothecas, virorum literatorum elogia, vitas, ant orationes funebres scriptis consignarunt,” Geneva, 1686, 4to, with a supplement, in 1705. This is a greatly improved edition of Labbe’s “Bibliotheca Bibliothecarum.”

, a modern philosopher, was born at Naples in 1508, and received the first part of his education at Milan, where he acquired a perfect knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages. After passing two years at Rome, where he made great proficiency in polite learning, he removed to Padua, and applied with indefatigable assiduity to the study of mathematics and philosophy. He very judiciously employed mathematical learning in explaining and establishing the laws of physics, and was particularly successful in investigating truths before unknown in the doctrine of optics. Accustomed to mathematical accuracy, he grew dissatisfied with the conjectural explanation of natural appearances given by Aristotle, and expressed great surprise that this philosopher should have been, for so many ages, followed in his numerous errors by so many learned men, by whole nations, and almost by the whole human race. He pursued his researches with great ingenuity as well as freedom, and wrote two books “On Nature,” in which he attempted to overturn the physical doctrine of the Peripatetic school, and to explain the phenomena of the material world upon new principles. When this treatise was first published at Rome, it obtained great and unexpected applause, and Telesius was prevailed upon by the importunity of his friends at Naples, to open a school of philosophy in that city. The Telesian school soon became famous, not only for the number of its pupils, but for the abilities of its professors, who distinguished themselves by their bold opposition to the doctrines of Aristotle, and by the judicious manner in which they distributed their labours, in order to enlarge the boundaries of natural knowledge. The founder of the school was highly esteemed by all who were desirous of studying nature rather than dialectics; and he was patronized by several great men, particularly by Ferdinand duke of Nuceri. But his popularity soon awakened the jealousy and envy of the monks, who loaded him and his school with calumny, for no other offence than that he ventured to call in question the authority of Aristotle. The vexations which he suffered from this quarter brought on a bilious disorder, which, in 1588, terminated in his death.

Although, during the life of Telesius, his innovations were patiently borne, both in Rome and Naples, after his death his writings were proscribed in the Index Expurgatorius of the inquisition. Notwithstanding which, his philosophy continued to have many admirers, and his works were republished at Venice in 1590, by his friend Antonius Persius, who also wrote a compendium of his philosophy in the vernacular tongue. Besides his principal work, De Natura Rerum, “On the Nature of Things,” he wrote on the air, the sea, comets, the milky way, the rainbow, colours, respiration, sleep, and other subjects. Lord Bacon has given a brief explanation of the philosophy of Telesius.

The physical system, which Telesius attempted to substitute in the room of the subtleties and fictions of the Stagyrite, was founded upon the Parmenidean doctrine, that the first principles in nature, by means of which all natural phenomena are produced, are cold and heat. The sum of his theory is this matter, which is in itself incapable of action, and admits neither of increase nor diminution, is acted upon by two contrary incorporeal principles, heat and cold. From the perpetual opposition of these, arises the several forms in nature; the prevalence of cold in the lower regions producing the earth and terrestrial bodies; and that of heat in the superior, the heavens and celestial bodies. All the changes of natural bodies are owing to this conflict; and according to the degree in which each principle prevails, are the different degrees of density, resistance, opacity, moisture, dryness, &c. which are found in different substances. In the heavens heat has its fixed residence, without any opposition from the contrary principle: and within the earth, and in the abyss of the sea, cold remains undisturbed, heat not being able to penetrate thither. At the borders of each of these regions, that contest between the opposite principles begins, which is carried on through all the intermediate space. All animal and vegetable life is from God. This system, which Telesius evidently borrowed from Parmenides, is but a baseless fabric raised upon a fanciful conversion of mere attributes and properties into substantial principles, and did not long survive its author, who would have deserved credit for the boldness of his attack upon the principles of Aristotle, had he avoided constructing a new system of natural philosophy, liable to the same objection which he had brought against that of Aristotle.

, one of the heroes of Swiss liberty, in the beginning of the fourteenth century, a man of property, and of good, though not distinguished family, was an inhabitant of the village of Burgeln in the country of Uri. In 1307 he was one of the persons engaged in the conspiracy against the Austrian government. The bailiff, or governor, Herman Gesler, either from a suspicious disposition, or having received some intimation of an impending insurrection, resolved to ascertain who would most patiently submit to his dominion. For this purpose he is said to have raised a hat upon a pole,* as an emblem of liberty, and commanded Tell, among others, to pay obeisance to it. “The youth Tell,” says Muller, “a friend to freedom, disdained to honour in a servile manner, and on an arbitrary command, even its emblem.” Then it was that, according to the current story, Tell was commanded by Gesler to shoot an arrow at an apple placed on the head of his own son; and, though reluctant, compelled to do it, bv the menace of immediate death, both to him and the infant if be should refuse. Tell cleft the apple without hurting the child but could not refrain from informing the tyrant that, had his aim proved less fortunate, he had another arrow in reserve, which he should have directed to the heart of his oppressor. By this manifestation of his courage and sentiments, he induced the bailiff to confine him; who, afterwards, mistrusting the friends and relations of Tell, resolved to carry him out of the country of Uri, across the lake of Lucern; though contrary to the acknowledged privileges of his countrymen. On the lake, as they were crossing, a violent storm arose; and Gesler, who knew Tell to be very skilful in the management of a boat, ordered his fetters to be taken off, and the helm committed to him. Taking advantage of this circumstance, Tell steered the boat close to a rock, leaped upon a flat part of it, scrambled up the precipice, and escaped. Gesler also escaped the danger of the water, but, landing near Kusnacht, fell by an arrow from the bow of Tell, whose skill he thus proved a second time, to his cost. Gesler thus perished by the indignation of a private man, without any participation of the people, and before the day appointed for their insurrection. Tell retired to Stauffacher, in the canton of Schwitz, and on the new year’s day ensuing, all the Austrian governors were seized and sent out of the country. In 1354, forty-seven years after this event, Tell is supposed to have lost his life in an inundation at Burgeln.

A chapel has been erected by his countrymen on the spot where he resided, and another on the rock where he landed: but, from the simplicity of the people, and of the times in which he lived, no particular honours or emoluments were assigned to his progeny, who appear to have lived in obscurity. The last male of his race, of whom we have any account, was John Martin Tell, of Attinghausen, who died in 1684. His descent in the female line became extinct in 1720. Crasser, a Swiss writer, long ago remarked the resemblance between the incident of the apple, as commonly related of Tell, and that told of Tocco, a Dane, by Saxo Grammaticus and from this coincidence, some have supposed the latter, at least, to be fictitious this, however, does not amount to a proof. It is possible, though perhaps not probable, that it may have happened twice.

, marquis de Louvois, by which title he is generally known, was born at Paris, January 18, 1641. He was the son of Mit-hel le Teilier, secretary of state, and afterwards chancellor of France, and keeper of the seals. The great credit and power of the father gave an early introduction to the son into the offices of slate, and he was onlv twenty- three when the reversion of the place of war-minister was assigned to him. His vigilance, activity, and application, immediately marked him as a man of superior talents for business; and two years afterwards, in 1666, he succeeded his father as secretary of state. In 1668 he was appointed post-mastergeneral, chancellor of the royal orders, and grand vicar of the orders of St. Lazarus and Mount Carmel; in all which places he fully justified the first conception of his talents. By his advice, and under his care, was built the royal hospital of invalids; and several academies were founded for the education of young men of good families in the military line. After the death of Colbert, in 1683, Louvois was appointed superintendant of buildings, arts, and manufactures. Amidst this variety of occupations, to which his genius proved itself fully equal, he shone most particularly in the direction of military affairs. He established magazines, and introduced a discipline which was felt with advantage in every department of the army. He several times acted in person as grand master of the ordnance, and in that branch of duty signalized his judgment and energy no less than in every other. The force of his genius, and the success of his most arduous undertakings, gained him an extreme ascendant over the mind of Louis XIV. but he abused his power, and treated his sovereign with a haughtiness which created disgust and hatred in all who saw it. One day, on returning from a council, where he had been very ill received by the king, he expired in his own apartment, the victim of ambition, grief, and vexation. This happened when he was no more than fifty-one, on the 16th of July, 1691.

Louvois, with all his talents, was not regretted either by the king or the courtiers. His harsh disposition, and very haughty manners, had irritated every one against him. He may also be reproached for the cruelties exercised in the Palatinate, and for other sanguinary proceedings. He wished not to be outdone in any severities. “If the enemy burns one village within your government,” said he, in a letter to the marshal de Bouflers, “do you burn ten in his.” Yet, notwithstanding every exception which may justly be made to his character, his talents were of more advantage than his faults were of injury to his country. In no one of his successors was found the same spirit of detail, united with complete grandeur of views; the same promptitude of execution in defiance of all obstacles; the same firmness of discipline, or the same profound secrecy in design. Yet he did not support ill fortune with the same firmness as his master. When the siege of Coni was raised, he ca ned the news to Louis XIV. with tears in his eyes. “You are easily depressed,” said the king “it is not difficult to perceive that you are too much accustomed to success. I, who have seen the Spanish troops within the walls of Paris, am not so easily cast down.” His sudden death is mentioned by madame de Sevigne, in her letters, in her own characteristic style. “He is dead, then; this great minister, this man of so high consideration; whose Moi (as M. Nicole says) was of such extent; who was the centre of so many affairs. How much business, how many designs, how many secrets, how many interests to develope How many wars commenced, how many fine strokes 6f chess to make and to manage Oh, give me but a little time I would fain give check to the duke of 'Savoy, check-mate to the prince of Orange. No, no not a moment. Can we reason on this strange event No, truly we must retire into our closets, and there reflect upon it”

A book entitled “Testament politique du marquis de Louvois,” was published in his name, 1695, in 12mo, but the author of it was Courtils, and no just judgment of the marquis can be deduced from such a rhapsody. He left prodigious wealth, a great part of which he owed to his wife, Anne de Souvre, marchioness of Courtenvaux, the richest heiress then in the kingdom.

, a celebrated Jesuit, was born December 16, 1643, near Vire in Lower Normandy, and after teaching the belles lettres and philosophy with credit, rose gradually to the highest offices in his society, was appointed confessor to Louis XIV. on the death of father de la Chaise, 1709, and chosen an honorary member of the academy of inscriptions and belles lettres. He procured the constitution Unigenitus, engaged warmly in the disputes which arose concerning that bull, and after the king’s death, in 1715, was banished to Amiens, and then to la Fleche, where he died, September 2, 171i>, aged seventysix. His works are, “Defense des nouveaux Chretiens et des Missionnatres de la Chine, du Japon, et des Indes,” 12mo. This book made much noise. “Observations sur la nouvelle Defense de la Version Franchise du Nouveau Testament imprime* a Mons,” c. Rouen, 1634, 8vo. The latter is an apology for M. Mallet’s writings. Father Tellier was author of several other works, particularly the Delphin Quintus Curtius, which is esteemed. He did not belong to the same family with Tellier, mentioned in the preceding article.

, a Florentine painter, was born at Florence in 1555, and was a disciple of John Strada, or Stradanus. He proved in many respects superior to his master, and especially in the fertility of his genius, and the vast number and variety of his figures. He painted chiefly landscapes, animals, and battles. He invented with ease, and executed with vigour; but not always with delicacy of colouring. He died in 1630, at the age of seventy-five. He sometimes engraved, but his prints are not prized in proportion to his paintings.

, otherwise called Molyn, and Pietro Mulier, another artist of note, was born at Haerlem in 1637, and according to some authors, was the disciple of Snyders, whose manner he at first adopted, and painted huntings of different animals, as large as life, with singular force and success. He afterwards changed both his style and subjects, and delighted to paint tempests, storms at sea, and shipwrecks, which he executed admirably, and therefore got the name, by which he is generally known, of Tempesta. After travelling through Holland he went to Rome, and having changed his religion from protestantism to popery, became greatly caressed as an artist, and received the title of cavaliere. After passing some years at Rome he visited Genoa, where he was likewise highly honoured, and fully employed, but appears to have lost all sense of principle or shame; for, in order to marry a Genoese lady, he caused his wife, whom he had left at Rome, to be murdered. This atrocious affair being discovered, he was sentenced to be hanged, but by the intervention of some of the nobility, who admired his talents, his sentence would probably have been changed to perpetual imprisonment. From this, however, he contrived to escape, after being confined sixteen years, and died in 1701, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. It was from this crime that he obtained the name of Pietro Mu­Lier, or de Mulieribus. His pictures are very rare, and held in great estimation, and those he painted in prison are thought to be of very superior merit. He executed also, by the graver only, several very neat prints, in a style greatly resembling that of Vander Velde. They consist chiefly of candle-light pieces, and dark subjects.

, a very eminent statesman and writer, was the son of sir William Temple, of Sheen, in Surrey, master of the rolls and privy-counsellor in Ireland, 1 in the reign of Charles II. by a sister of the learned Dr.' Henry Hammond. His grandfather, sir William Temple, the founder of the family, was the younger son of the Temples, of Temple-hall, in Leicestershire. He was fellow of King’s college, in Cambridge, afterwards master of the free-school at Lincoln, then secretary successively to sir Philip Sidney, to William Davison, esq. one of queen Elizabeth’s secretaries, and to the celebrated earl of Essex, whom he served while he was lord-deputy of Ireland. In 1609, upon the importunate solicitation of Dr. James Usher, he accepted the provostship of Trinity college, in Dublin; after which he was knighted, and made one of the masters in chancery of Ireland. He died about 1626, aged sevetity-two, after having given proof of his abilities and learning, by several publications in Latin.

The subject of the present memoir was born in London in 1628, and first sent to school at Penshurst in Kent, under the care of his uncle Dr. Hammond, then minister of that parish. At the age of ten he was removed to a school at Bishop Stortford, in Hertfordshire, kept by Mr. Leigh, where he was taught Greek and Latin. At the age of fifteen he returned and remained at home for about two years, from some doubts, during these turbulent times, as to the propriety of sending him to any university. These having been removed, he was about two years after entered of Emanuel college, Cambridge, under the tuition of the learned Cud worth. His father intending him for political life, seems not to have thought a long residence here necessary; and therefore about 1647, or 1648, sent him on his travels. While on his way to France he visited the Isle of Wight, where his majesty Charles I. was then a prisoner; and there formed an attachment to Dorothy, second daughter of sir Peter Osborn, of Chicksand, in Bedfordshire, whom he afterwards married.

His travels extended to France, Holland, Flanders, and Germany; during which he acquired a facility in speaking and reading those modern languages, which then formed a necessary accomplishment in a statesman. In 1654, on his return, he married the above-mentioned Mrs. Osborn, and passed his time for some years with his father and family in Ireland, improving himself in the study of history and philosophy, and cautiously avoiding any employment during the usurpation. At the restoration, in 1660, he was chosen a member of the convention in Ireland, and first distinguished himself by opposing the poll-bill, a very unpopular ministerial measure; which he did with so much independence of spirit, as to furnish a presage of his future character. In the succeeding parliament, in 1661, he was chosen, with his father, for the county of Carlow, where he distinguished himself by voting and speaking indifferently, as he approved or disapproved their measures, without joining any party. In 1662 he was chosen one of the commissioners to be sent from that parliament to the king, and took this opportunity of waiting on the lord lieutenant, the duke of Ormond, then at London, and seems at the same time to have now formed the design of quitting Ireland altogether, and residing in England. It was necessary, however, to return to Ireland, where on a second interview with the duke of Ormond, then at Dublin, the duke made extraordinary professions of respect for him, complaining, with polite irony, that he was the only man in Ireland who had never asked him any thing: and when he found him bent on going to England, insisted on giving him letters of recommendation to Clarendon, the lord chancellor, and to Arlington, secretary of state.

This recommendation was effectual with both these statesmen, as well as with the king, although he was not immediately employed. Sir William Templew^s nev.er forgetful of this obligation he constantly kept np a Correspondence with the duke of Ormond, and afterwards zealously defended him against the attempt of the earl of Essex to displace him from the government of Ireland. In the mean time, during his interviews with lord Arling­‘ton, who seems to have had his promotion at heart, he took occasion to hint to his lordship, that if his majesty thought him worthy of any employment abroad, he should be happy to accept it; but begged leave to object to the northern climates, to which he had a great aversion. Lord Arlington expressed his regret at this, because the place of envoy at Sweden was the only one then vacant. In 1665, however, about the commencement of the first Dutch, war, lord Arlington communicated to him that his majesty wanted to send a person abroad upon an affair of great importance, and advised him to accept the offer, whether in all respects agreeable or not, as it would prove an introduction to his majesty’s service, This business was a secret commission to the bishop of Munster, for the purpose of concluding a treaty between the king and him, by which the bishop should be obliged, upon receiving a certain sum of money, to join his majesty immediately in the war with Holland. Sir William made no scruple to accept this commission, which he executed with speed and success, and in the most private manner, without any train or official character. In July he began his journey to Qoesvelt, and not long after it was known publicly, that he had in a very few days concluded and signed the treaty there, in which his perfect knowledge in Latin, which he had retained, was of no little advantage to him, the bishop. conversing in no other language. After signing the treaty, he went to Brussels, saw the first payment made, and received the news that the bishop was in the fielfl, by which this negotiation began first to be discovered;, but no person suspected ’the part he had in it; and he continued privately at Brussels till it was whispered to the marquis Castel-Rodrigo the governor, that he came upon some particular errand (-which he was then at liberty to own). The governor immediately sent to desire his acquaintance, and that he might see him in private, to which he easily consented. Soon after a commission was sent him to be resident at Brussels, a situation which he had long contemplated with pleasure, and his commission was accompanied with a baronet’s patent. Sir William now sent for his family (April 1666); but, before their arrival, was again ordered to Munster, to prevent the bishop’s concluding peace with the Dutch, which he threatened to do, in consequence of some remissness in the payments from England, and actually signed it at Cleve the very night sir William Temple arrived at Munster. On. this he returned to Brussels; and before he had been there a year, peace with the Dutch was concluded at Breda. Two months after this event, his sister, who resided with him at Brussels, having an inclination to see Holland, he went thither with her incognito, and while at the Hague, became acquainted with the celebrated Pensionary De Witt.

In the spring of 1667, a new war broke out between France and Spain, which rendering Brussels a place of insecurity, as it might fall into the hands of the French, he sent his family to England, but remained himself until the end of the year, when the king ordered him to return privately to England, and in his way to go secretly to the Hague, and concert with the states the means of saving the Netherlands. Sir William, whom, Hume says, philosophy had taught to despise the world, without rendering him unfit for it, was frank, open, sincere, superior to the little tricks of vulgar politicians; and meeting in De Witt with a man of the same generous and enlarged sentiments, he immediately opened his master’s intentions, and pressed a speedy conclusion. A treaty was from the first negotiated between these two statesmen, with the same cordiality as if it were a private transaction between intimate companions. Deeming the interests of their country the same, they gave full scope to that sympathy of character which disposed them to an entire reliance on each other’s professions and engagements. The issue was the famous triple alliance between England, Sweden, and Holland, which being ratified Feb. 15, 1668, sir William Temple had orders to return to Brussels, and promote the treaty of peace between France and Spain, then carrying on at Aix-la-Chapelle. He was accordingly sent thither in April, as his majesty’s ambassador-extraordinary and mediator, and brought the affair to a happy conclusion. Soon after, he was sent ambassador-extraordinary to the States-General, with instructions to confirm the triple alliance, and solicit the emperor and German princes, by their ministers, to enter into it. Being the first English ambassador that bad been there since king James’s time, he was received and distinguished by every mark of regard and esteem they could express for his character and person; and, by the good opinion he had gained, was able to bring the States into such measures, as, M. de Witt said, he was sure was not in the power of any other man to do. He lived in confidence with that great minister, and in constant and familiar conversation with the prince of Orange, then eighteen years old. Yet, although he had a difficult part to act, he compassed the chief design of his embassy, in engaging the emperor and Spain in the measures that were then desired; but by this time the measures of his own court took a new turn; and though he had observed a disposition before, to complain of the Dutch upon trifling occasions, yet he suspected nothing till lord -Arlington, in September 1669, hurried him over, by telling him, as soon as he received his letter he should put his foot into the stirrup. When he came to his lordship, whom he always saw the first, and with great eagerness desired to know the important affair that required his sudden recall, he found that his lordship had not one word to say to him; and, after making him wait a great while, only asked him several indifferent questions about his journey; and next day he was received as coldly by the king. The secret, however, soon came out and sir William Temple- was pressed to return to the Hague, and make way for a war with Holland, which, less than two years before, he had been so much applauded for preventing by a strict alliance: but he excused himself from having any share in it, which so much provoked the lord treasurer Clifford, that he refused to pay him an arrear of two thousand pounds, due from his embassy. All this passed without any particular unkindness from the king; but lord Arlington’s usage, so unlike to the friendship he had professed, was resented by sir William Temple with much spirit. He now retired to his house at Sheen, and employed this interval of leisure in writing his “Observations on the United Provinces,” and one part of his “Miscellanies.”

In 167'3, the king, becoming weary of the second Dutch war, and convinced of its unpopularity, sent for sir William Temple, and wished him to go to Holland, with the offer of the king’s mediation between France and the confederates then at war, which was not long after accepted; and in June 1674, lord Berkley, sir William Temple, and sir Lioline Jenkins, were declared ambassadors and mediators, and Nimeguen appointed, by general consent, as the place of treaty. During sir William’s stay at the Ha^ne, the prince of Orange, who was fond of speaking English, and of English habits, constantly dined and supped once or twice a week at his house, feir William insensibly acquired his Highness’s confidence, and had a considerable hand in his marriage with the princess Mary, of which he has said so much in his " Memoirs. 77 One instance of his employing his influence with the prince, he used to reckon amongst the good fortunes of his life. Five Englishmen happened to be taken and brought to the Hague whilst he was there, and in the prince’s absence, who were immediately tried, and condemned by a council of war, for deserting their colours: some of his servants had the curiosity to visit their unfortunate countrymen, and came home with a deplorable story, that, by what they had heard, it seemed to be a mistake; and that they were all like to die innocent; but, however, that it was without remedy, that their graves were digging, and they were to be shot next morning. Sir William Temple left nothing unattempted to prevent their sudden execution; and sent to the officers to threaten them, that he would complain first to the prince, and then to the king, who, he was sure, would demand reparation, if so many of his subjects suffered unjustly: but nothing would move them, till he made it his last request to reprieve them one day, during which the prince happened to come within reach of returning an answer to a message he sent, and they were released. The first thing they did was to go and look at their graves; and the next, to come and thank sir William Temple upon their knees.

In July 1676, he removed his family to Nimeguen, where he passed that year without making any progress in the treaty, which, owing to various ircumstances, was then at a stand; and, the year after, his son was sent over with letters from the lord treasurer, to order him to return and succeed Mr. Coventry in his place of secretary of state, which the latter made some difficulty of resigning, unless he had leave to name his successor, which the king refused. Sir William Temple, who was not ambitious of the change at this time, requested his majesty would defer it until all parties were agreed, and the treaty he was then concerned in concluded. This business, however, required his presence in England, and he did not return to Nimeguen that year. About the same time the prince of Orange came over and married the lady Mary, which seems to have occasioned a coolness between sir William Temple and lord Arlington, the latter being offended at sir William’s intimacy with the lord treasurer Osborn, who was related to lady Temple, they two being the only persons intrusted with the affair of the marriage.

In the mean time, in 1678, the king, finding that affairs were riot likely to come to any conclusion with France, sent for sir William Temple to the council, and told him, that he intended he should go to Holland, in order to form a treaty of alliance with the States; and that the purpose of it should be, like the triple league, to force both France and Spain to accept of the terms proposed. Temple was sorry to find this act of vigour qualified by such a regard to France, and by such an appearance of indifference and neutrality between the parties. He told the king, that the resolution agreed on, was to begin the war in conjunction with all the confederates, in case of no direct and immediate answer from France; that this measure would satisfy the prince, the allies, and the people of England; advantages which couid not be expected from such an alliance with Holland alone; that France would be disobliged, and Spain likewise; nor would the Dutch be satisfied with such a faint imitation of the triple league, a measure concerted when they were equally at league with both parties. For these reasons sir William Temple declined the employment; and Lawrence Hyde, second son of the chancellor Clarendon, was sent in his place; and although the measure was not palatable to the prince, the States concluded the treaty in the terms proposed by the king. Just afterwards we find the king a little out of humour with sir William Temple; and when the parliament would not pass the supplies without some security against the prevalence of the popish party, the king thought proper to reproach Temple with his popular notions, as he termed them; and asked him how he thought the House of Commons could be trusted in carrying on the war, should it be entered on, when in the very commencement they made such declarations? Sir William, however, was not daunted by this reproach; and when the king, thwarted by his parliament, began to lend an ear to the proposals of the king of France, who offered him great sums of money, if he would consent to France’s making an advantageous peace with the allies, sir William, though pressed by his majesty, refused to have any concern in so dishonourable a negociation. He informs us that the king said, there was one article proposed, which so incensed him, that as long as he lived, he should never forget it What it was, sir William does not mention; but dean Swift, who was the editor of his works, informs us, that the French, before they would agree to any payment, required as a preliminary, that king Charles should engage never to keep above 8000 regular troops in Great Britain!

Sir William appears frequently to have retired from court disgusted with the fluctuating counsels which prevailed there, but was ever ready to lend his aid to measures which bore the appearance of public advantage: and in July 1678, upon the discovery of the French design not to evacuate the Spanish towns agreed on by the treaty to be delivered up, the king commanded him to go upon a third embassy to the States, with whom he concluded a treaty, by which England engaged, upon the refusal of the French to evacuate the towns in forty days, to declare immediate war with France: but, before half that time was run out, one Du Cros was sent from our court into Holland, upon an errand that again embarrassed the relative state of affairs; and such sudden and capricious changes in our councils, which sir William Temple had seen too often to be astonished at, increased his growing distaste to all public employment.

In 1679 he went back to Nimeguen, where the French delayed signing the treaty to the last hour; and after he had concluded it, he returned to the Hague, from whence he was soon sent for to enter upon the secretary’s place, which Mr. Coventry was at last resolved to part with and my lord Sunderland, who was newly come into the other, pressed him with much earnestness to accept. He very unuillingly obeyed his majesty’s commands to come over, as he had long at heart a visit he had promised to make the great duke, as soon as his embassy was ended; having begun a particular acquaintance with him in England, and kept up a correspondence ever since. Besides, having so ill succeeded in the designs (which no man ever more steadily pursued in the course of his employments) of doing his country the best service, and advancing its honour and greatness to the height of which he thought it capable, he resolved to ask leave of the king to retire. At this time, indeed, no person could engage in public affairs with a worse prospect; the Popish plot being newly broke out, and the parliament violent in the persecution of it, although it is now generally allowed to have been an absurd imposture. On these accounts, although the king, who, after the removal of the lord treasurer Danby, whom the parliament sent to the Tower, had no one with whom he could discourse with freedom on public affairs, sir William, alarmed at the universal discontents and jealousies which prevailed, was determined to make his retreat, as soon as possible, from a scene which threatened such confusion. Meanwhile, as he could not refuse the confidence witfi which his master honoured him, he represented to the king, that, as the jealousies of the nation were extreme, it was necessary to cure them by some new remedy, and to restore that mutual confidence, so requisite for the safety both of the king and people; that to refuse every thing to the parliament in their present disposition, or to yield every thing, was equally dangerous to the constitution, as well as to public tranquillity; that if the king would introduce into his councils such men as enjoyed the confidence of his people, fewer concessions would probably be re-. quired; or if unreasonable demands were made, the king, under the sanction of such counsellors, might be enabled, with the greater safety, to refuse them; and that the heads of the popular party, being gratified with the king’s favour, wouldprobably abate of that violence by which they endeavoured at present to pay court to the multitude.

The king assented to these reasons; and, in concert with Temple, laid the plan of a new privy-council, without whose advice he declared himself determined for the future to take no measure of importance. This council was to consist of thirty persons, and was never to exceed that number. Fifteen- of the chief officers of the crown were to be continued, who, it was supposed, would adhere to the king, and, in case of any extremity, oppose the exorbitances of faction. The other half of the council was to be'composed, either of men of character, detached from the court, or of those who possessed chief credit in both Houses. The experiment seemed at first to give some satisfaction to the people; but as Shaftesbury was made president of the council, contrary to the advice of sir William Temple, the plan upon the whole was of little avail. Temple oftea joined them, though he kept himself detached from public business. When the bill was proposed for putting restrictions on the duke of York, as successor to the throne, Shaftesbury thought them insufficient, and was for a total exclusion; but sir William Temple thought them so rigorous as even to subvert the constitution; and that shackles, put upon a Popish successor, would not afterwards be easily cast off by a Protestant.

In 1680, when the council was again changed, sir William gradually withdrew himself, for reasons which he has assigned in the third part of his Memoirs; but soon after the king sent for him again, and proposed his going ambassador into Spain, and giving credit to an alliance pretended to be made with that crown, against the meeting of the parliament; but when his equipage was almost ready, the king changed his mind, and told him, he would have him defer his journey till the end of the session of parliament, of which he was chosen a member for the university of Cambridge, and in which the factions ran so high, that he saw it impossible to bring them to any temper. The duke of York was sent into Scotland: that would not satisfy them, nor any thing but a bill of exclusion, against which he always declared himself, being a legal man, and said, his endeavours should ever be to unite the royal family, but that he would never enter into any counsels to divide them. This famous bill, after long contests, was thrown out, and the parliament dissolved; and it was upon his majesty’s taking this resolution without the advice of his privy-council, contrary to what he had promised, that sir William Temple spoke so boldly there, and was so ill-used for taking that liberty, by some of those friends who had been most earnest in promoting the last change. Upon this he grew quite tired with public business, refused the offer he had of serving again for the university in the next parliament, that was soon after called and met at Oxford, and was even uneasy with the name of a privy-counsellor, but this he soon got rid of; for the duke being returned, and all the councils changed, lord Sunderland’s, Essex’s, and sir William Temple’s names were by the king’s order all struck out of the council-book together. On this occasion he informed his majesty that he would live the rest of his life as good a subject as any in his kingdom, but never more meddle with public affairs. The king assured him that he was not at all angry, and ever after received his visits, when he came into the neighbourhood of Sheen, with respect: nor was less attention shewn to sir William by king James, who used to address his conversation to him the moment he saw him enter the room of the palace at Richmond.

After this retirement, which occurred in 1685, sir William Temple continued a year at Sheen, and, having purchased a small seat called Moor-Park, near Farnham in Surrey, which he preferred for its retirement, and the healthy and pleasant situation, and being much afflicted with the gout, and broken with age and infirmities, he resolved to pass the remainder of his life there; and in November 16 86, in his way thither, waited on king James, then at Windsor, and begged his favour and protection to one that would always live a good subject, but, whatever happened, never enter again upon any public employment; and desired his majesty never to give credit to whatever he might hear to the contrary. The king, who used to say sir William Temple’s character was always to be believed, promised him what he desired, made him some reproaches for not coming into his service, which he said was his own fault, and kept his word as faithfully to sir William Temple, as he did to his majesty during the turn of affairs that soon after followed by the prince of Orange’s coming over, which is said to have, been so great a secret to him, that he was not only wholly unacquainted with it, but one of the last men in England that believed it.

At the time of this revolution in 1688, Moor Park growing unsafe by lying in. the way of both armies, he went back to the house he had given up to his son at Sheen, whom he would not permit to go and meet the prince of Orange at his landing, as this might appear a breach of his engagement, never to join in any measure that seemed to divide the royal family. After king James’s abdication, and the prince’s arrival ut Windsor, however, sir William Temple went to wait upon his highness, along with his son. On this occasion the prince pressed him to enter into his service, and to be secretary of state; said, it was in kindness to him that he had not been acquainted with his design; came to him two or three times at Sheen, and several of his friends made him very uneasy, in urging how much the prince. (who was his friend), his country, and his religion, must suffer by his obstinate refusal to engage in their defence; add ing, that his conduct would give the world an unfavourable opinion of this great undertaking, and make them mistrust some bad design at the bottom, which a man of his truth and honour did not care to be concerned in. Sir William, however, continued unshaken in his resolutions, although very sensible of the trouble and uneasiness the prince and all his friends expressed; and was the more anxious to return to his retirement at Moor Park, about the end of 1689, that he might be less exposed to similar solicitations.

From that time he employed himself wholly in the cares and amusements of a country life, and saw little company, but had the honour of being often consulted by king William in some of his secret and important affairs, and of a visit from him in his way from Winchester, and used to wait upon his majesty at Richmond and Windsor, where he was always very graciously received with that easiness and familiarity, and particular confidence, that had begun in Holland so many years before.

Sir William Temple died towards the end of 1700, in his seventy-second year, at Moor Park; where, according to express directions in his will, his heart was buried in a silver box, under the sun-dial in his garden. This sun-dial, we are told, was opposite to the window whence he used to contemplate and admire the works of nature with his sister, the ingenious lady Giffard who, as she shared and eased the fatigues of his voyages and travels during his public employments, was the chief delight and comfort of his retirement in old age, as he had the misfortune to lose his lady in 1694. As to his person, his stature was above the middle size: he was well-set and well-shaped; his hair chesnut brown, his face oval, his forehead large, a quick piercing eye, and a sedate and philosophical look. Those who have endeavoured to set sir William’s character in the best light, have allowed him to have had some tincture of vanity and spleen. Bishop Burnet has painted him most unfavourably, allowing him to possess a true judgment in all affairs, and very good principles with relation to government, but in nothing else. The bishop adds, that “he seemed to think, that things were as they are from all eternity; at least, he thought religion was fit only for the mob. He was a great admirer of the sect of Confucius in China, who were atheists themselves, but left religion to the rabble. He was a corrupter of all that came near him: and he delivered himself up wholly to study, ease, and pleasure.” Burnet’s dislike to sir William Temple seems, therefore, to have arisen from a very sufficient cause; from his holding and propagating irreligious principles; but this, others have not only doubted, but peremptorily denied, and have cited his beautiful letter to lady Essex, as a proof of his piety. Burnet, however, we perceive, allows him to have been a great statesman; and, in the very next words to those just cited, refers his reader for “an account of our affairs beyond sea, to his letters; in which,” says Burnet, “they are very truly and fully set forth.”

Sir William Temple was not only a very able statesman and negotiator, but also a polite and elegant writer. As many of his works have been published, at different times, as amount to two volumes in folio; which have also been printed more than once in octavo. His “Observations upon the United Provinces of the Netherlands,” were published in one volume, 8vo, in 1672. His “Miscellanea,” consisting of ten tracts upon different subjects, were originally published in two volumes, 8vo. One of these tracts is upon ancient and modern learning; and what he advanced there, as it in some measure gave occasion to, so it involved him in, the controversy, which was soon after agitated here in England, concerning the superiority of the ancients and the moderns, His “Memoirs” also, of what had passed in his public employments, especially those abroad, make a very interesting part of his works. They were written in three parts; the first of which began with his journey to Munster, contained chiefly his negotiations of the triple alliance, and ended with his first retirement from public business, in 1671, a little before the second Dutch war. He began the second part with the approaches of the peace between England and Holland, in 1673, and concluded it with his being recalled from Holland in February 1678-9, after the conclusion of that of Nimeguen. The third part contains what passed from this peace to sir William’s retirement. The second part of these “Memoirs” was published in his life-time, and, it is believed, with his consent; though it is pretended that they were written only for the use of his son, and sent into the world without his knowledge. The third part was published by Swift, in 1709, many years after his death. The first part was never published at all; and Swift, in the preface to the third, tells us, that “Sir William often assured him he had burnt those Memoirs; and for that reason was content his letters during his embassies at the Hague and Aix-la-Chapelle (he might have added Minister) should be printed after his death, to supply that loss. What it was,” continues Swift, “that moved sir William Temple to burn those first Memoirs, may, perhaps, be conjectured from some passages in the second part formerly printed. In one place the author has these words: ‘ My lord Arlington, who made so great a figure in the former part of these Memoirs, was now grown out of all credit,’ &c. In other parts he tells us, ‘ That that lord was of the ministry which broke the triple-alliance, advised the Dutch war and French alliance; and, in short, was at the bottom of all those ruinous measures which the court of England was then taking; so that, as I have been told from a good hand, and as it seems very probable, he could not think that lord a person fit to be celebrated for his part in forwarding that famous league, while he was secretary of state, who had made such counterpaces to destroy it.’”

In 1693, sir William published an answer to a scurrilous pamphlet, entitled “A Letter from Mr. du Cros to the lord ———.” This Du Cros bore very impatiently the character which sir William had given him in the second part of his “Memoirs,” and wrote the above letter to abuse him for it. In 1695, he published “An Introduction to the History of England:” in which some few mistakes have been discovered, as his speaking of William the Conqueror abolishing the trial of camp-fight, or duel, who, on the contrary, introduced it. Not long after his death, Dr. Swift, then domestic chaplain, to the earl of Berkley, who lived many years as an amanuensis in sir William Temple’s family, published two volumes of his “Letters,” containing an account of the most important transactions that passed in Christendom, from 1667 to 1672; and, in 1703, a third volume, containing “Letters to king Charles II, the prince of Orange, the chief ministers of state, and other persons,” in octavo. The editor informs us, that these papers were the last of this or any kind, about which he had received his particular commands; and that they were corrected by himself, and transcribed in his life-time. The whole of his works were handsomely reprinted in 4 vols. 8vo, in 1814. Sir William Temple had one son, John Temple, esq. a man of great abilities and accomplishments, and who, soon after the Revolution, was appointed secretary at war by king William; but he had scarce been a week in that office, when he drowned himself at London-bridge. This extraordinary affair happened the 14th of April, 1689, when Mr. Temple, having spent the whole morning at his office, took a boat about noon, as if he designed to go to Greenwich; when he had got a little way, he ordered the waterman to set him ashore, and then finishing some dispatches which he had forgot, proceeded. Before he threw himself out, he dropped in the boat a shilling for the waterman, and a note to this effect:

"My folly in undertaking what I was not able to perform, has done the king and kingdom a great deal of prejudice. I wish him all happiness, and abler servants than

It was thought, at first, that he meant by this, his incapacity for the secretaryship at war, which he had asked the king leave to resign the day before; but the fact was, that he had been melancholy for some months before, and the great prejudice to the king’s affairs, mentioned in his note, could not be occasioned by mistakes committed in a place in which he had yet done little or nothing. Another cause of his melancholy is assigned, which carries more probability. General Richard Hamilton being upon suspicion confined in the Tower, Mr. Temple visited him sometimes upon the score of a former acquaintance: when discoursing upon the present juncture of affairs, and how to prevent the effusion of blood in Ireland, the general said, “That the best way was, to send thither a person in whom Tyrconnel could trust; and he did not doubt, if such a person gave him a true account of things in England, he would readily submit.” Mr. Temple communicated khis overture to the king, who approving of it, and looking upon general Hamilton to be the properest person for such a service, asked Mr. Temple whether he could be trusted? Temple readily engaged his word for him, and Hamilton was sent to Ireland; but, instead of discharging his commission and persuading Tyrconnel to submit, he encouraged him as much as possible to stand out, and offered him his assistance, which Tyrconnel gladly accepted. Mr. Temple contracted an extreme melancholy upon Hamilton’s desertion although the king assured him he was convinced of his innocence. Mr. Temple had married Mademoiselle Du Plessis Rambouillet, a French lady, who had by him two daughters, to whom sir William bequeathed the bulk of his estate but with this express condition, that they should not marry Frenchmen “a nation,” says Boyer, “to whom sir William ever bore a general hatred, upon account of their imperiousness and arrogance to foreigners.”

Hume’s character of sir William Temple is accurate and comprehensive. “Of all the considerable writers of this age,” says that historian, “Sir William Temple is almost the only one that kept himself altogether unpolluted by that inundation of vice and licentiousness which overwhelmed the nation. The style of this author, though extremely negligent, and even infected with foreign idioms, is agreeable and interesting. That mixture of vanity which appears in his works, is rather a recommendation to them. By means of it, we enter into acquaintance with the character of the author, full of honour and humanity and fancy that we are engaged, not in the perusal of a book, but in conversation with a companion.”

, M. D. the son of an eminent attorney at Dorchester in the county of Dorset, by Mary, daughter of Robert Haynes, was born‘ March 17, 1711, and was educated at the Charter-house (not on the foundation), whence he proceeded to Trinity-colk’ge, Cambridge, and there took his degree of B. A. with distinguished reputation. During his residence at Cambridge, by his own inclination, in conformity with that of his parents, he applied himself to the study of divinity, with a design to enter into holy orders; but alter some time, from what cause we know not, he altered his plan, and applied himself to the study of physic. In 1736 he went to Leyden, where he attended the lectures of Boerhaave, and the professors of the other branches of medicine in that celebrated university, for the space of two years or more. About the beginning of 1739, he returned to London, with a view to enter on the practice of his profession, supported by a handsome allowance from his father. Why he did not succeed in that line was easy to be accounted for by those who knew him. He was a man of a very liberal turn of mind, of general erudition, with a large acquaintance among the learned of different professions, but of an indolent, inactive disposition; he could not enter into juntos with people that were not to his liking; nor cultivate the acquaintance to be met with at tea-tables; but rather chose to employ his time at home in the perusal of an ingenious author, or to spend an attic evening in a select company of men of sense and learning. In this he resembled Dr. Armstrong, whose limited practice in his profession was owing to the same cause. In the latter end of 1750 he was introduced to Dr. Fothergill (by Dr. Cuming,) with a view of instituting a Medical Society, in order to procure the earliest intelligence of every improvement in physic from every part of Europe *. At the same period he tells his friend, “Dr. Mead has very generously offered to assist me with all his interest for succeeding Dr. Hall at the (Charter-house, whose death has been for some time expected. Inspired with gratitude, I have ventured out of my element (as you will plainly perceive), and sent him an ode.” Dr. Tern pieman’s epitaph on lady Lucy Meyrick (the only English copy of verses of his writing that we know of) is printed in the eighth volume of the “Select Collection of Miscellany Poems,” 1781. In. 1753 he published the first volume of “Curious Remarks and Observations in Physic, Anatomy, Chirurgery, Chemistry, Botany, and Medicine, extracted from the History and Memoirs of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris;” and the second volume in the succeeding year. A third was promised, but we believe never printed. It appears indeed that if he had

* An extract from one of his letters months. In a dearth of new tilings on will give some idea of this plan, which each of those heads, to extract out of never took effect. “I spoilt the whole the French Memoirs, German Epheafternoon yesterday with Dr. Pother- nierides, &c. such things os shall apgill in settling the plan of our design, pear to the society to be useful discowhich in short is this by a settled re- veries or observations, and not suffigular correspondence in the principal ciently known or attended to. The cities of Europe, to have the most early greatest difficulty lying on us is the intelligence of the improvements in choice of proper persons to execute chemistry, anatomy, botany, chinir- this design some being too much gery, with accounts of epidemical di- taken up in business, and others justly seases, state of the weather, remark- exceptionable as being untractable, able cases, observations, and useful presumptuous, and overbearing. The medicines. A society to be formed men of business, however, will he of here in town, to meet regularly once a some use to us, in communicating reweek, at which meeting all papers trans- markable. cases and occurrences. Such milted to be read, and s,uch as are ap- a work will require a great number of proved of to be published in the Eng- hands; and, besides good abilities, it lish language, in the manner of our will be neiessary they should be good Philosophical Transactions a pam- sort of men too.” ms Letter to Dr. phlet of 2s, or 2. 6d. once in three Cuming. met with proper encouragement from the public, it was his intention to have extended the work to twelve volumes, with an additional one of index, and that he was prepared to publish two such volumes every year. His translation of “Norden’s Travels” appeared in the beginning of 1757 and in that year he was editor of “Select Cases and Consultations in Physic, by Dr. Woodward,” 8vo. On the establishment of the British Museum in 1753, he was appointed to the office of keeper of the reading-room, which he resigned on being chosen, in 1760, secretary to the then newly instituted Society of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce. In 1762 he was elected a corresponding member of the Royal Academy of Science of Paris, and also of the CEconomical Society at Berne. Very early in life Dr. Templeman was afflicted with severe paroxysms of an asthma, which eluded the force of all that either his own skill, or that of the most eminent physicians then living, could suggest to him; and it continued to harass him till his death, which happened September 23, 1769. He was esteemed a man of great learning, particularly with respect to languages; spoke French with great fluency, and left the character of a humane, generous, and polite member of society.

It may not be improper to distinguish Dr. Templeman from Mr. Thomas Templeman, the author of “Engraved Tables, containing calculations of the number of square feet and people in the several kingdoms of the World;” who was a writing-master in the town of St. Edmund’s Bury, where he died May 2, 1729. Both are often confounded, and the latter often appears in quotations with the doctor’s degree of the former.

, a lady of considerable talents, took the habit of a religious at the monastery of Montfleuri, near Grenoble. Becoming tired of that mode of life, she went to Paris, where she lived in the world, and solicited a bull from the pope to authorize this unusual proceeding. With cardinal Lambertini, afterwards Benedict XIV. she was on good terms, and he gave her no molestation. Her house at Paris was the general meeting of all who had wit, or wished to have the credit of it. The gaiety of her society was, however, disturbed by some unfortunate adventures particularly by the death of La Fresnaye, a counsellor of state, who was killed in her apartment. Mademoiselle Tencin was prosecuted as concerned in the murder, and was confined first in the Chatelet, and afterwards in the Bastille; but was at length discharged as innocent. She died at Paris in 1749, being then a good deal advanced in years. She appeared as an author in several instances, and produced, 1. “Le Siege de Calais,” a romance of considerable delicacy and genius, though not without faults. 2. “Memoires de Comminges,” 12mo, another novel which has had its admirers. A nephew of M. de Tencin, M. Pont-de-veste, had some share in both these productions. 3. “Les Malheurs de l'Amour,” a novel, in which some have supposed that she describes a part of her own history. 4. “Anecdotes of Edward II.” a posthumous work, published in 1776. All her works were published at Paris in 1786, in seven small volumes, 12 mo.

, a Flemish painter, was born at Antwerp, in 1582, and received the first rudiments of his art from the famous Rubens, who considered him, at length, as his most deserving scholar. On leaving Rubens, he began to be much employed; and, in a little time, was in a condition to take a journey to Italy. At Rome he fixed himself with Adam Elsheimer, who was then in great vogue; of whose manner he became a thorough master, without neglecting at the same time the study of other great masters, and eiKleavouring to penetrate into the deepest mysteries of their practice. An abode of ten years in Italy enabled him to become one of the first in his style of painting; and a happy union in the schools of Rubens and Elsheimer formed in him a manner as agreeable as diverting. When Teniers returned to his own country, he entirely employed himself in painting small pictures, filled with figures of persons drinking, chemists, fairs, and merrymakings, with a number of country men and women. He spread so much taste and truth through his pictures, that few painters have ever produced a juster effect. The demand for them was universal; and even his master Rubens thought them an ornament to his cabinet, which was as high a compliment as could be paid them. Teniers drew his own character in his pictures, and in all his subjects every thing tends to joy and pleasure. He was always employed in copying after nature, whatsoever presented itself; and he accustomed his two sons to follow his example, and to paint nothing but from that infallible model, by which means they both became excellent painters. These are the only disciples we know of this David Tenters, styled the elder, who died at Antwerp in 1649, aged sixty-seven.

, son of the preceding, was born at Antwerp in 1610, and was nick-named “The Ape of Painting;” for there was no manner of painting that he could not imitate so exactly, as to deceive even the nicest judges. He improved greatly on the talents and merit of his father, and his reputation introduced him to the favour of the great. The archduke Leopold William made him gentleman of his bedchamber; and all the pictures of his gallery were copied by Teniers, and engraved by his direction. Teniers took a voyage to England, to buy several pictures of the great Italian masters for count Fuensaldegna, who, on his return, heaped favours on him. Don John of Austria, and the king of Spain, set so great a value on his pictures, that they built a gallery on purpose for them. Prince William of Orange honoured him with his friendship; Rubens esteemed his works, and assisted him with his advice. In his thirty* fifth year he was in his zenith of perfection. His principal talent was landscape, adorned with small figures. He painted men drinking and smoking, chemists, and their laboratories, country fairs, and the like: his small figures are superior to his large ones. The distinction between the works of the father and the son is, that in the son’s you discover a finer touch and a fresher pencil, and a greater choice of attitudes, and a better disposition of figures. The father retained something of the tone of Italy in his colouring, which was stronger than the son’s, but his pictures have Jess harmony and union; besides, the son used to put at the bottom of his pictures, “David Teniers, junior.” He died at Antwerp in 1694, aged eighty-four. Sir Joshua Reynolds says, that the works of this artist are worthy the closest attention of a painter who desires to excel in the mechanical knowledge of his art. His manner of touching, or what we call handling, has perhaps never been equalled: there is in his pictures that exact mixture of softness and sharpness, which is difficult to execute. His brother Abraham was a good painter; equal, if not superior, to his father and brother in the expression of his characters, and knowledge of the chiaro-scnro, though inferior in the sprightliness of his touch, and the lightness of his pencil.

, a learned and worthy prelate, the son of the rev. John Tenison, B. D. by Mary, daughter of Thomas Dowson of Cottenham in Cambridgeshire, was born at that place Sept. 29, 1636. His father was rector of Mundesley in Norfolk, whence he was ejected for his adherence to Charles I. At the restoration, according to Dr. Ken.net, he became rector of Bracon-Ash, and died there in 1671, but Mr. Masters apprehends that he was rector of Topcroft in Norfolk in 1646, and by Le Neve we find that in 1712, his son, the subject of the present article, at the expeuce of 340l. rebuilt the chancel of Topcroft church, where his father and mother are buried.

Young Tenison was first educated at the free-school at Norwich, which was then in great reputation, under Mr. Lovering, the master. From this school, at the age of seventeen, he was admitted a scholar upon archbishop Parker’s foundation, of Bene't college, Cambridge, where he took his degree of A.B. in Lent term, 1656-7; and the study of divinity being at that time interrupted, at least as to its ordinary process, he began to study medicine, but on the eve of the restoration he procured himself to be privately ordained at Richmond in Surrey, by Dr. Duppa, bishop of Salisbury. In 1660, the year following, he proceeded M. A. and being by virtue of a pre-election, admitted fellow of his college, March 24, 1662, he became tutor, and in J 665 was chosen one of the university preachers, and about the same time was presented by the dean and chapter of Ely to the cure of St. Andrew the Great in Cambridge.

He had not long held this last situation before the plague broke out and dispersed the members of the college, and probably some of the inhabitants of his parish, but Mr. Tenison remained in college, with only two scholars,' and a few servants, during the whole of the calamity, and conscientiously performed his parochial duties, without neglecting such precautions as the faculty at that time prescribed. His parishioners were so sensibly struck with this effort of piety and courage, as to present him with a handsome piece of plate when he left them in 1667. In remembrance of their kindness, he gave them, a short time before his death, the sum of 50l. towards repairing their church.

In this last mentioned year, 1667, he proceeded B. D. He had for some time served his father’s cure at Braconashe, and quitted St. Andrew’s in Cambridge on being presented to the rectory of Holy well and Nedingworth in Huntingdonshire, by Edward, earl of Manchester. This nobleman had before that time placed his son Thomas under his tuition in the college, and afterwards appointed him his chaplain, in which relation he was likewise continued by his successor, earl Robert. About the same time he married Anne, daughter of Dr. Richard Love, some time master of Bene't college. In 1670 his first publication appeared, under the title of “The creed of Mr. Hobbes examined, in a feigned conference between him and a student in divinity,” 8vo. This, which is said to have been published to obviate an absurd calumny, that he was a favourer of Hobbes, affords a very excellent refutation of that author’s principles.

In 1674, the parishioners of St. Peter’s Manscroft, in Norwich, chose him their upper minister, with a salary of 100l. a year. In 1678 he published his “Discourse of Idolatry,” and the year following, some unpublished remains of lord Bacon, under the title “Baconiana,” with a preface giving an excellent analysis of his lordship’s works. In 1680 he took his degree of D. D. and in October of the same year, was presented by Charles II. being then one of his majesty’s chaplains, to the vicarage of St. Martin’s in the Fields. Here he continued the measures which Dr. Lloyd his predecessor had adopted to check the growth of popery, and became the founder of our parochial charity-schools. He also founded a library. Dr. Kennet says that in this office, Dr. Tenison did as much good as perhaps it was possible for one man to do, and the writer of his Hie assures us that there were not above two persons in his parish who turned Roman catholics while he was vicar. Indeed this large and important cure extending to Whitehall, and the whole court, rendered an unusual portion of courage and perseverance necessary in watching the proceedings of the popish party, who had too many friends in the highest station. Dr. Tenison, however, undauntedly took his share in the controversy which their conduct produced, and was soon marked as an antagonist not to be despised. In 1681 he preached and published “A Sermon of Discretion in giving- alms,” which being attacked by Andrew Pulton, who was at the head of the Jesuits in the Savoy, Dr. Tenison wrote a defence of it. In June 1684 an attempt was made to entrap him into an obscure house, on pretence of his receiving there some information respecting the murder of sir Edmondbury Godfrey; but by the precaution he taok, this design, whatever it might be, was defeated. In this year he published “The difference between the protestant aad the Socinian methods,” in answer to a book written by a papist entitled " The Protestant’s plea fora Socinian/ 1 In the mean time, in 1683, he had rivalled that party in their grace of charity, by distributing upwards of 300l. for the relief of his poor parishioners during the hard frost. He also now completed the designs before mentioned, of endowing a charity-school, and setting up a public library, both which still exist.

In 1685, he attended the unfortunate duke of Monmouth, by his grace’s desire, both before, and at the time of his execution; and Burnet tells us that he spoke to his grace with a freedom becoming his station, both as to the duke’s public conduct and private life, yet with such prudence and circumspection, as to give no offence. In 1687, Dr. Teiiison held a conference with Andrew Pulton, his opponent before mentioned, respecting the protestant religion, a detail of which he afterwards published under the title of “A true account of a Conference held about Religion at London, Sept. 29, 1687, between Andrew Pulton, Jesuit, and Thomas Tenison, D. D. as also that which led to it, and followed after it,” Lond. 1687. Soon after Dr. Tenison published the following tracts, arising from this conference, or connected with the popish controversy in general: “A Guide in matters of Faith, with respect especially to the Romish practice of such a one as is infallible;” “Mr. Pulton considered in his sincerity, reasonings, and authorities; or, a just answer to what he has hitherto published in his true and full account of a conference, &c. his re,marks, and in them his pretended confutation of what he calls Dr. T.'s (Dr. Tillotson’s) Rule of Faith;” “Six Conferences concerning the Eucharist, wherein is shewed, that the doctrine of Transubstantiation overthrows the proofs of the Christian religion,” from the French of La Placette “The Difference between the Church of England and the Church of Rome; in answer to a book written by a Romanist, entitled The Agreement between them;” and “An Examination of Bellarmine’s tenth note of holiness of life.”

About this time Dr. Tenison preached a sermon at the funeral of the famous Neil Gwynn, one of Charles Ji.V mistresses, whom he represented as a penitent. This drew upon him some censure; and perhaps the measure was not a very prudent one, even supposing the fact of her penitence to be as he represented. His enemies, however, could not have many just objections to what he said, as they were reduced to the meanness of publishing a false copy of the- sermon, against which Dr. Tenison advertised. In 1680 a considerable sum of money, we are not told by whom, was deposited in his hands, jointly with Dr. Simon Patrick, to be laid out in works of charity, according to their discretion; and after distributing some part of it accordingly in charitable uses, they settled the remainder as a kind of fund for augmenting the insufficient maintenance of poor vicars. This they managed themselves for some years, dividing the sum of 100l. among twenty vicars, half of the diocese of Canterbury, the other of Ely, at the equal rate of 5l. to each vicar; but in 1697 they assigned over the whole stock, amounting to 2400l. to sir Nathan Wright, lord keeper of the great seal, and other trustees, for the same purposes.

Resuming his pen against popery, Dr. Tenison now published five more treatises or tracts on the subject, entitled “The Introduction to Popery not founded in Scripture;” “An answer to a letter of the Roman catholic soldier;” “Speculum Ecclesiasticum or an ecclesiastical prospective glass considered in its false reasonings and quotations” “The incurable Scepticism of the Church of Rome,” translated from Placette; and “The Protestant and Popish way of interpreting Scripture, impartially compared, in answer to Pax vobis, &c.” all in 4to, and published in 1688 or 1689. We are told that, notwithstanding his zeal in this cause, he was so much respected at court, that James II. was induced, out of regard to him, to take off the suspension which that infatuated monarch had laid upon Dr. John Sharp (See Shakp, vol. XXVII. p. 400); but there is more reason to think that this, on the king’s part, was an attempt at conciliation, when he found how unpopular that and his other measures in favour of popery were.

In the succeeding reign, Dr. Tenison is said to have acquired favour at court, on account of his moderation towards the dissenters. He was one of those who dwelt fondly on the hopes of a comprehension, as it was called, to be effected partly by a review of the Liturgy. Immediately after the revolution, he was promoted to be archdeacon of London, and was appointed one of the commissioners to prepare matters towards reconciling the dissenters for the convocation. He even wrote a defence of it, entitled “A Discourse on the Ecclesiastical commission, proving it agreeable to the word of God, useful to the convocation, &c.” 1689, 4to, but he soon found the main object to be unattainable, neither party being satisfied with the proposed alterations in the liturgy. It was this endeavour to conciliate the dissenters which is said to have induced queen Mary to solicit that he might have the bishopric of Lincoln, to which he was accordingly nominated Nov. 25, 1691, and consecrated at Lambeth, Jan. 10 following. The writer of his life, in 8vo, tells us that the earl of Jersey, then master of the horse to her majesty, endeavoured as much as possible to prejudice Dr. Tenison in her majesty’s opinion, in order to gain her interest for his friend Dr. John Scott, rector of St. Giles’s in the fields; and represente*d to her majesty, who was speaking of Dr. Tenison in terms of respect, that he had preached a funeral sermon, in which he had spoken favourably of Mrs. Eleanor Gwyn, one of king Charles lid’s mistresses. “What then” said the queen, “I have heard as much. This is a sign, that that poor unfortunate woman died penitent; for if I can read a man’s heart through his looks, had she not made a truly pious and Christian end, the doctor could never have been induced to speak well of her.”

He had not been seated in this see above two years, when, upon the death of Dr. Marsh, he was offered the archbishopric of Dublin; but he made it the condition of his acceptance, that the impropriations belonging to the estates then forfeited to the crown, should be all restored to the respective parish churches. The king thought this very reasonable, but the difficulties were found so great that it never could be carried into execution; and instead of being translated into Ireland, bishop Tenison was raised in 1694, upon the death of Dr. Tillotson, to the see of Canterbury. Dr. Kennet observes, that upon the death of archbishop Tillotson, “it was the solicitous care of the Court to fill up the see of Canterbury. The first person that seemed to be offered to the eye of the world, was Dr. Stillingfleet, bishop of Worcester; but his great abilities had raised some envy and some jealousy of him: and, indeed, his body would not have borne the fatigues of such a station. Even the bishop of Bristol, Dr. John Hall, master of Pembroke college, Oxford, was recommended by a great party of men, who had an opinion of his great piety and moderation. But the person most esteemed by their majesties, and most universally approved by the ministry, and the clergy, and the people, was Dr. Tenison, bishop of Lincoln, who had been exemplary in every station of his life, had restored a neglected large diocese to somo discipline and good order, and had before, in the office of a parochial minister, done as mu^h good as, perhaps, was possible for any one man to do. It was with great importunity, and after rejecting better offers, that he was prevailed with to take the bishopric of Lincoln; and it was with greater reluctancy, that he now received their majesties’ desire and command for his translation to Canterbury. Burnet speaks much to the same purpose, although his opinion of Dr. Tenison seems never to have been very high; and adds, that at this time” he had many frieods, and no enemies."

Soon after his promotion to the archbishopric, queen Mary was seized with the small pox, which proved fatal, and at her desire archbishop Tenison attended her during her illness, was present at her death, and preached a fr.nrral sermon, which is said to have given seme offence, and was severely censured in a letter to his grace by Dr. Ken, the deprived bishop of Bath and Wells, who maintained that the archbishop was guilty of neglect of duty in not having represented to her majesty when on her death-bed “the great guilt she lay under by her conduct at the revolution.” Of this letter, Dr. Tenison took no notice, for which few will now blame him. A “Defence of his Sermon” was afterwards published by his friend Dr. John Williams. But if Dr. Tenison failed in bringing the queen to repentance for “the revolution,” he is said to have produced some good effects on the king’s disposition. When the queen died, William was deeply affected, and impressed with very serious notions, which, we are told, Dr. Tenison encouraged, and in one instance (the king’s illicit connection with lady Villiers) urged the heinousness of that crime with such power, that, if we may believe Whiston, his majesty promised never to see that lady more. The archbishop is also said to have been instrumental in healing some differences in the royal family, especially respecting the settlement of the princess Anne of Denmark.

The several injunctions and circular letters to his clergy for preserving the order and discipline of the church, and for healing the animosities that arose in his time respecting the doctrine of the Trinity, are such as have been thought to reflect honour on his high station. It was in his time, too, that the disputes occurred respecting the distinct powers of the two houses of convocation, which proved ultimately the ruin of that assembly, so that, as has been justly remarked, while every other church and every sect, has its synods, or other assemblies of the kind, the church of England has no longer any thing preserved but the mere form of meeting and breaking up.

In 1696, he gave a signal proof of his zeal for the revolution in the case of sir John Fenwick’s attainder. On this occasion, when the celebrated Mr. Nelson requested his vote against that bill, the equity of which was much disputed, the archbishop said, “My good friend, give me leave to tell you, that 1 know not what spirit this man, nor I, am of. I wish for his, nor no man’s blood: but how can I do my duty to God and the king, should I declare a man innocent (for my not being on the side of the bill will convince the world that I think him so) when I am satisfied in my conscience, not only from Goodman’s evidence, but all the convincing testimonies in the world, that he is guilty. Laws ex post facto may indeed carry the face of rigour with them: but, if ever a law was necessary, this is.”

In 1700, his grace obtained a commission, authorizing him, jointly with the archbishop of York, and four other prelates, viz. Burnet of Salisbury, Lloyd of Worcester, Patrick of Ely, and Moor of Norwich, to recommend to his majesty, proper persons for all the ecclesiastical preferments in his gift, above the value of 20l. per aim. in the book of first fruits and tenths. He continued in the same favour at court until the death of king William, whom he constantly attended in his illness, and prevailed with him to put the last hand to a bill for the better security of the protestant succession. In consequence of his station, he had the honour of crowning queen Anne, but did not enjoy much favour at her court. During the first three years of her reign he steadily opposed the bill to prevent occasional conformity. At the same time he was not neglectful of what concerned the welfare of the established church, and engaged Dr. White Kennet, afterwards bishop of Peterborough, to write “The case of Impropriations, &c.” in consequence of the queen’s having given the first fruits for augmenting the maintenance of the poorer clergy. In 1705, he wrote a letter to the princess Sophia, acquainting her with his own zeal in particular, and that of her friends, for the security of the Hanover succession, to which he received an answer, in which her highness gave some intimation of her desire to come to England at that juncture. This letter of hers was published some time after, together with one from sir Rowland Gwynn to the earl of Stamford, upon the same subject of the princess’s coming over; which last being voted by both houses to be a scandalous libel, tending to create misunderstandings between her majesty and the princess Sophia, the publisher, Charles Gildon, was fined \00l. by the court of queen’s bench. But notwithstanding that our archbishop’s zeal in this matter could not be very agreeable to her majesty, who was always averse to the notion of a visit from the electress, yet in April 1706 he was nominated first commissioner in the treaty of union between England and Scotland. The same year, he concurred with the majority of the lords in their resolution against those who insinuated that “the church was in danger.”

On the death of queen Anne he was appointed one of the three officers of state in whose hands were lodged, by authority of parliament, one of those instruments empowering her successor, if abroad at the time of her demise, to appoint such regents as he should think proper, to continue the administration in his name till his arrival. He bad afterwards the honour of crowning George I. and of being admitted to a private conference with him. This was, however, his last attendance on that prince, as his infirmities, and particularly frequent attacks of the gout, rendered it necessary for him to live as retired as possible at his palace at Lambeth, where he died Dec. 14, 1715, in the seventyninth year of his age. He was interred privately in the chancel of the church of Lambeth, and in the same vault 'with his wife, who died the preceding year, leaving him without issue. By his will he bequeathed very large sums to charitable purposes, and proved a liberal benefactor to Bene't college, Cambridge, the library of St. Paul’s cathedral, the society for the propagation of the gospel, queen Anne’s bounty, Bromley college, &c. The residue of his fortune, which was very considerable, he ordered to be equally divided among the children of his kinsmen, Dr. Edward Tenison (afterwards bishop of Ossory), Mr. Richard Tubby, and Mr. George Fage.

The author of the “Memoirs of his Life” says, he was a prelate “who, through the whole course of his life, always practised that integrity and resolution he first set out with; nor was he influenced by the changes of the age he lived in, to act contrary to the pure and peaceable spirit of the gospel, of which he was so bright an ornament.” He adds, that he was “an exact pattern of that exemplary piety, chanty, steadfastness, and ^ood conduct requisite in a governor of the church.” Dr. Richardson, in his edition of Godwin’s Lives of the Bishops, at first brought a serious charge against Dr. Tenison for neglecting the fairest opportunity of introducing the ecclesiastical polity of the church of England into the kingdom of Prussia; but he was afterwards so fully convinced of the injustice of this charge, as to alter the page of his work in which it was brought forward, and lay the blame upon those to whom it more properly belonged. Swift appears to have spoken with great disrespect of archbishop Tenison, for which no better reason can be given than his prejudices against the whigs, to which party Tenison was supposed to belong; and is said to have furnished some hints for Steeled memorable “Crisis,” for which the latter was expelled the House of Commons. The archbishop, however, had admirers in many of his contemporaries, especially Dr. Garth, who has introduced him in the 2nd canto of the Dispensary, with a handsome compliment, in the form of a complaint from Envy:

The celebrated nonconformist Baxter likewise held him in admiration. Besides the works already mentioned, he published some occasional sermons, and is supposed to have been the author of a tract entitled “Grievances of the Church of England, which are not in the power of the governors to remedy.”

, a Dutch painter, was born in 1608,atZwol, nearOveryssel. He learned the art of painting under his father, who had passed some years at Rome. He travelled over the chief part of Europe, and was every where much encouraged. His subjects were usually conversations, persons employed in games, or in humorous adventures. His colouring is lively, and his pictures highly finished. But he is not thought equal either to Mieris or Gerard Dow, in the same style. He died in 1681, at the age of seventy-three.

, was a Latin poet and grammarian, whose age is not exactly known, unless he was the Posthumus Terentianus to whom Longinus dedicated his admirable treatise on the sublime, and whom Martial celebrates as praefect of Syene, in Egypt. Both these things are uncertain, but both have been affirmed by Vosius, and others. Some have also called him a Carthaginian; that he was a Moor, he himself tells us, and thence he is called Maurus. Certain it is, that he was earlier than St. Augustin, who quotes him, Da Civ. Dei, vi. 2. He wrote a most elegant poem in various measures, “De literis, syllabis, pedibus, et metris,” addressed to his son Bassinus, and his son-in-law Novatemus, which gives a truly pleasing impression of his genius, and admirably exemplifies the precepts it delivers. This poem is still extant, having been found in a monastery at Bobbio, in the Milanese, by G. Merula. It was first published by him at Milan, with Ausonius, in 1497; afterwards by Janus Parrhasius, and Nic. Brissaeus; then by Jacobus Micyllus, at Francfort, 1584, in 8vo. It appeared also in the “Grammatici veteres,” of Putschius, published at Hanau, in 1605, 4to; and in the “Corpus omnium veterum Poetarum Romanorum,” Geneva, 1611, 2 vols. 4to.

, or Terence, an ancient dramatic writer among the Romans, was a native of Carthage, and born in the year of Rome 560. He was brought early to Rome, among other slaves, and fell into the hands of a generous master, Terentius Lucanus, a Roman senator, who was so taken with his uncommon parts, that he gave him first a good education, and afterwards his liberty. He received his name, as well as his liberty, from Terentius Lucanus, as the custom was; and thus, by a singular fatality, says madam Dacier, while he has immortalized the name of his master, he has not been able to preserve his own. His merit soon recommended him to the acquaintance and familiarity of the chief nobility; and such was his friendship with Scipio and Laelius, that his rivals and enemies took occasion from thence to say that his plays were composed by these noblemen. Suetonius relates a story from Cornelius Nepos, which may seem to confirm such a surmise: it is, that on the 1st of March, which was the feast of the Roman ladies, Laelius being desired by his wife to sup a little sooner than ordinary, he prayed her not to disturb him; and that, coming very late to supper that night, he said he had never composed any thing with more pleasure and success; when, being asked by the company what it was, he repeated some verses out of the third scene of the fourth act in the “Heautontimorumenos.” Terence takes notice of this report in his prologue to the “Adelphi,” and does not offer to refute it; but Suetonius says that he forbore, in complaisance to his patrons, who might possibly not be displeased with it; and, indeed, in the prologue to the “Heautontimorumenos,” Terence desired the auditors not to credit the slanderous reports of his brother writers. It is very possible that Scipio and Lselius might sometimes amuse themselves with composing a scene or two lor a poet, with whom they conversed so familiarly; but the plays were certainly Terence’s.

We have six of them remaining, and probably one or two are lost, for the “Andria” does not seem to have been his first. The very prologue to this play intimates the contrary; and the circumstance related by Suetonius, about Terence’s reading his first piece to Ccecilius, proves the “Andria” not to have been it, and that Suetonius has mistaken the name of the. play for Caecilius died two years before the “Andria” was brought on the stage. Caecilius was the best poet of the age, and near fourscore ‘when. Terence offered his first play; much regard was paid to his judgment’, and therefore the cedile oftVred Terence to wait upon Caecilius with his play before he would venture to receive it. The old gentleman, being at table, bid the young- author take a stool, and begin to read it to him. It is observed by Suetonius, that Terence’s dress was mean, so that his outside did not much recommend him; but he had not gone through the first scene when Caecilius invited him to sit at table with him, deferring to have the rest of the play read till after supper. Thus, with the advantage of Csecilius’s recommendation, did Terence’s first play appear, when Terence could not be twenty-five; for the “Andria” was acted when he was but twenty-seven. The “Hecyra” was acted the year following; the “Self-tormentor, or Heautontimorumenos,” two years after that; the “Eunuch” two years after the “Selftormentor;” the “Phormio,” the latter end of the same year; and, the year afterwards, the “Adelphi, or Brothers,” was acted; that is, 160 B.C. when Terence was thirty-three years of age.

After this, Terence went into Greece, where he stayed about a year, in order, as it is thought, to collect some of Menander’s plays. He fell sick on his return from thence, and died at sea, according to some; at Stymphalis, a town in Arcadia, according to others. From the above account, we cannot have lost above one or two of Terence’s plays; for it is impossible to credit what Suetonius reports from one Consemius, an unknown author, namely, that Terence was returning with above an hundred of Menander’s plays, which he had translated, but that he lost them by shipwreck, and died of grief for the loss. Terence was of a middle size, very slender, and of a dark complexion-. He left a daughter behind him, who was afterwards married to a Roman knight. He left also a house and gardens on the Appian way, near the Villa Martis, so that the notion of his dying poor is very improbable. If he could be supposed to have reaped no advantages from the friendship of Scipio and Lselius, yet his plays must have brought him in considerable sums. He received eight thousand sesterces for his “Eunuch,” which was acted twice in one day; a piece of good fortune which perhaps never happened to any other play, for plays with the Romans were never designed to serve above two or three times. There is no doubt that he was well paid for the rest; for it appears from the prologue to the “Hecyra,” that the poets used to be paid every time their play was acted. At this rate, Terence must have made a handsome fortune before he died, for most of his plays were acted more than once in his life- time. It would be endless to mention the testimonies of the ancients in his favour, or the high commendations hestowed upon him by modern commentators and critics. Menander was his model, and from him he borrowed many of his materials. He was not content with a servile imitation of Menander, but always consulted his own. genius, and made such alterations as seemed to him expedient. His enemies blamed his conduct in this; but in the prologue to the “Andria,” he pleads guilty to the charge, and justifies what he had done by very sufficient reasons. The comedies of Terence were in great repute among the Romans; though Plautus, having more wit, more action, and more vigour, was sometimes more popular upon the stage. Terence’s chief excellence consists in these three points, beauty of characters, politeness of dialogue, and regularity of scene. His characters are natural, exact, and finished to the last degree; and no writer, perhaps, ever came up to him for propriety and decorum in this respect. If he had laid the scene at Rome, and made his characters Roman, instead of Grecian; or if there had been a greater variety in the general cast of his characters, the want of both which things have been objected to him; his plays might have been more agreeable, might have more affected those for whose entertainment they were written; yet in what he attempted he has been perfectly successful. The elegance of iiis dialogue, and the purity of his diction, are acknowledged by all: by Caesar, Cicero, Paterculus, and Quintilian, among the ancients; and by all the moderns. If Terence could not attain all the wit and humour of Menander, yet he fairly equalled him in chasteness and correctness of style.

The moderns have been no less united in their praise of the style of Terence. Erasmus says, that “the purity of the Roman language cannot be learned from any ancient author so well as from Terence; and many have given it as their opinion, that the Latin tongue cannot be lost while the comedies of Terence remain. This Roman urbanity and purity of diction shews Terence to have been made a slave very young, and his education to have been wholly Roman, since otherwise his style could never have been so free from the tincture of his African origin. Regularity of scene, or proper disposition and conduct of the drama, is a third excellence of Terence. His scene, as Congreve, who calls him the correctest writer in the world, has well observed, always proceeds in a regular connection, the per s ons going off and on for visible reasons, and to carry on the action of the play, and, upon the whole, the faults and imperfections are so few, that they scarcely deserve to be mentioned. Scaliger said, there were not three in the whole six plays: and the comica vis, which Caesar wishes for him, would probably have suited our taste less than his present delicate humour and wit. Madam Dacier has observed, that” it would be difficult to determine which of his six plays deserves the preference, since they have each of them their peculiar excellencies. The “Andria” and “Adelphi,” says she, “appear to excel in characters and manners; the” Eunuch“and” Phormio,“in vigorous action and lively intrigue; the” Heautontimorumenos’ 1 and “Hecyra,” in sentiment, passion, and simplicity of style."

The best editions of Terence are, the Elzevir, 1635, 12mo; that “cum integris notis Donati, et selectis variorum, 1686,” 8vo; that of Westerhovius, in two volumes, quarto, 1726; and of “Bcntley,” the same year, 4to the immaculate Edinburgh edition of 1758, 12mo, and the edition of Zeunius, in two volumes, Leipsic, 1774, 8vo, with very copious notes and index. Madam Dacier has given a most beautiful French version of this author; and in English we have a translation in blank-verse, by Colman, which is justly esteemed.

, the first of a literary family of considerable note in France, was the eldest of the four sons of Peter Terrasson, a lawyer of Lyons, and became a priest of the oratory, preacher to the king, and afterwards preacher to the court of Lorrain. His pulpit services were much applauded, and attended by the most crowded congregations. His exertions during Lent in the metropolitan church at Paris threw him into an illness of which he died April 25, 1723. His “Sermons” were printed in 1726, 4 vols. 12mo, and reprinted in 1736.

, brother to the preceding, was born at Lyons in 1670, and educated at the house of the oratory at Paris, which he quitted very soon. He afterwards entered into it again, and then left it finally, a proof of unsteadiness, at which his father was so angry, having resolved to breed up all his sons to the church, that he reduced him by his will to a very moderate income; which, however, John bore without complaining. He went to Paris, and obtained the acquaintance of the abbe* Bignon, who became his protector and patron, and procured him a place in the academy of sciences in 1707. In 1721, he was elected a professor in the college royal. When the disputes about Homer between La Motte and madam Dacier were at their height, he thought proper to enter the lists, and wrote “Une Dissertation contre Plliade,” in 2 vols. 12mo, which did very little credit to his taste or judgment. He had, however, better success in his “Sethos,” which, as a learned and philosophical romance, has considerable merit. It has been translated into English. Another work of Terrasson is J< A French Translation of Diodorus Siculus, with a preface and notes," which has been much commended.

He died Sept. 15, 1750, with the reputation of having been one of the best practical philosophers of his age. According to D'Alembert, in his “History of the Members of the French Academy,” he was absent, simple, totally ignorant of the world, with much learning, and original wit and humour. He suddenly became very rich, by the Mississippi-scheme, in favour of which he wrote a pamphlet of “Reflexions;” but was neither affected by his sudden riches, nor by the sudden ruin which followed. He said he had now got rid of many difficulties in which wealth had involved him, and he should enjoy the comfort and convenience of living on a little. At the latter end of his life he totally lost his memory, and when any question was asked him, he said, “Inquire of Mrs. Luquet, my housekeeper;” and even when the priest, who confessed him in his last illness, interrogated him concerning the sins which he had committed, he could get no other answer from him than “Ask Mrs. Luquet.”

, brother of the two preceding, was born October 5, 1680, at Lyons. At the age of eighteen, he was sent by his fatherto the house of the oratory at Paris, where he immediately devoted himself to the study of scripture and the fathers, and taught afterwards in different houses of his order, chiefly at Troyes, where he spoke a funeral oration for the dauphin, son of Louis XIV. in the Franciscan church. Notwithstanding the success which attended this first essay of his talents for the pulpit, he did not cui.tinue to preach, but only delivered exhortations in the seminaries. But after his brother’s death, being solicited to supply several pulpits where the deceased had engaged himself, he soon acquired a degree of reputation superior to that which AnJrew Terrassoit had enjoyed. He preached at Paris during five years, and, among other occasions, a who;e Lt nt in the metropolitan church, to a very numerous congregation. Various circumstances, particularly his attachment to the Jansenists, obliged him afterwards to quit buh the congregation oi the oratory and the pulpit at the same time; but M. de Caylus, bishop of Auxerre, made him curate of Treigny in 1735. Persecution, however, still following him, he was sent to the Bastille, which he quitted in 1744, to be confined with the Minimes at Argenteuil. At length, when his weakened faculties made him considered as useless to his party, he was set at liberty, and died at Pnris in the bosom of his family, Jan. 2, 1752, leaving “Sermons,” 4 vols. 12mo, and an anonymous book entitled, “Lettres stir la Justice Chretienne,” which has been censured by the Sorbonne.

, an eminent advocate to the parliament of Paris, was born August 13, 1669, and was related to the same family as the preceding. He was admitted advocate at Paris in 16^1, where his merit and abilities soon procured him many clients, and having made the written law his peculiar study, he became, as it were, the oracle of the Lyonnois, and all the provinces where the law is followed. He assisted in the “Journal de Savans” during five years, and was several years censorroyal of books of law and literature. He died September 30, 1734, at Paris, aged sixty-six. He left a collection of his own discourses, pleadings, memoirs, and consultations, under the title of “CEuvres de Matthieu Terrasson,” &c. 4to. This collection, which was much valued, was published by his only son, Anthony Terrasson, advocate to the parliament of Paris, and author of *‘ L’Histoire de la Jurisprudence Romalne," printed at Paris, 1750, fol. There is an edition of the works of Henrys in 4 vols. fol. with notes by Matthew Terrasson, printed by Bretonnier in 1772.

, a French writer of more industry than genius, was born at St. Malu’s, in 1715. He entered for a time into the society of the Jesuits, where he taught the learned languages. Returning into the world, he was employed with Messrs. Freron and de la Porte, in some periodical publications. He was also a member of the literary and military society of Besangon, and of the academy at Angers. He died April 17, 1759, at the age of forty-four. Besides his periodical writings, he made himself known by several publications: 1. “An Abridgment of the History of England,” 3 vols. 12mo, which has the advantages of a chronological abridgment, without its dry ness. The narration is faithful, simple, and clear the style rather cold, but in general, pure, and of a good taste and the portraits drawn with accuracy yet the abridgment of the abbé Millet is generally preferred, as containing more original matter. 2 “Histoire des Conjurations et des Conspirations celebres,” 10 vols. 12 mo; an unequal compilation, but containing some interesting matters. 3, The two last volumes of the “Bibliotfaeque amusante.” 4. “L'Almanach des Beaux-Arts,” afterwards known by the title of te La France literaire.“He published a very imperfect sketch of it in 1752; but it has since been extended to several vols, 8vo. 5.” Memoires du Marquis de Choupes,“1753, 12mo. He had also a hand in the” History of Spain," published by M. Desormaux.

His son Marguerite-Louis-Francis Duport Dutertre, was one of the moderate revolutionists in 1789, and suffered under the guillotine in 1793, when moderation became a crime.

, a French Dominican, was born at Calais in 1610. Ke quitted his studies to go into the army, and visited the various countries in a Dutch ship, but returning to France entered the Dominican order at Paris in 1635. Five years after this he was sent as a missionary to the American islands, where he laboured zealously, but returned to his native country in 1658, and died at Paris 1687, having first revised his general history of the islands of St. Christopher, &c. and published it much more complete under the title of “Histoire genérale des Antilles habitées par les Francois,” 1667, 1671, 4 vols. 4to, a work which was long considered as of authority.

, the iirst Latin writer of the primitive church whose writings are come clown to us, was an African, and born at Carthage in the second century. His father was a centurion in* the troops which served under the proconsul of Africa. Tcrtullian was at first an heathen, and a man, as he himself owns in various parts of his works, of loose manners; but afterwards embraced the Christian religion, though it is not known when, or upon what occasion. He flourished chiefly under the reigns of the emperor Severus and Caracalla, from about the year 194 to 216 and it is probable that he lived several years, since Jerome mentions a report of his having attained to a decrepit old age. There is no passage in his writings whence it can be concluded that he was a priest; but Jerome affirms it so positively, that it cannot be doubted. He had great abilities and learning, which he employed vigorously in the cause of Christianity, and against heathens and heretics; but towards the latter part of his life quitted the church to follow the Montanists, which is the reason why his name has not been transmitted to us with the title of saint. The cause of his separation is not certainly known. Baronius has attributed it to jealousy, because Victor was preferred before him to the see of Rome; Pamelius hints at his disappointment, because he could not get the bishopric of Carthage; and Jerome says, that the envy which the Roman clergy bore him, and the outrageous manner with which they treated him, exasperated him against the church, and provoked him to quit it. What perhaps had as much weight as any of these reasons was the extraordinary austerity, which the sect of Montanus affected, which suited his monastic turn of mind. Whatever the cause, he not only joined them, but wrote in their defence, and treated the church from which he departed, with unbecoming contempt. Error, however* says a modern ecclesiastical historian, is very inconstant; for Tertullian afterwards left the Montanists, or nearly so, and formed a sect of his own, called Tertullianists, who continued in Africa till Augustine’s time, by whose labours their existence, as;i distinct body, was brought to a close. The character of Tertullian is very strongly delineated by himself in his own writings if there bad been any thing peculiarly Christian, which he had learned from the Montanists, his works must have shown it; but the only change discoverable is, that he increased in his austerities. He appears to have been married, and lived all his life, without separating from his wife upon his commencing priest, if, indeed, he did not marry her after. The time of his death is no where mentioned.

Many historians have spoken highly of the abilities and learning of this father, particularly Euscbius, who says that he was one of the ablest Latin writers, and particularly insists upon his being thoroughly conversant in the Roman laws; which may incline us to think that, like his scholar, Cyprian, he was bred to the bar. Cyprian used every day to read part of his works, and, when he called for the book, said, “Give me my master,” as Jerome relates. Lactantius allows him to have been skilled in all kinds of learning, yet censures him as an harsh, inelegant, and abstruse writer. Jerome, i n his Catalogue of ecclesiastical writers, calls him a man of a quick and sharp wit; and says, in his epistle to Magnus, that no author had more learning and subtlety; but in other places he reprehends his errors and defects; and, in his apology against Ruffinus, “commends his wit, but condemns his heresies.” Vicentius Lirinensis gives this character of him: “Tertullian was,” says he, “among the Latins, what Origen was among the Greeks; that is to say, the first and most considerable man they had. For who is more learned than he r who more versed both in ecclesiastical and profane knowledge? Has he not comprised in his vast capacious mind all the philosophy of the sages, the maxims of the different sects, with their histories, and whatever pertained to them? Did he ever attack any thing which he has not almost always either pierced by the vivacity of his wit, or overthrown by the force and weight of his reasonings? And who can sufficiently extol the beauties of his discourse, which is so well guarded and linked together by a continual chain of arguments, that he even forces the consent of those whom he cannot persuade? His words are so many sentences; his answers almost so many victories.”

Of the moderns, Malebranche says, “Tertullian was a man of profound learning; but he had more memory than judgment, greater penetration and extent of imagination than of understanding. There is no doubt that he was a visionary, and had all the qualities I have attributed to visionaries. The respect he had for the visions of Montamis, and for his prophetesses, is an incontestable proof of the weakness of his judgment. His fire, his transports, his enthusiasms upon the most trifling subjects, plainly indicate a distempered imagination. What irregular motions are there in his hyperboles and figures! How many pompous and magnificent arguments, that owe all their force to their sensible lustre, and persuade many merely by g'ddying and dazzling the mind.” He then gives examples out of his book “De Paliio;” and concludes with saying, that “if justness of thought, with clearness and elegance of expression, should always appear in whatever a man writes, since the end of writing is to manifest the truth, it is impossible to excuse this author; who, by the testimony of even Salmasius, the greatest critic or our times, has laid out all his endeavours to become obscure; and has succeeded so well in what he aimed at, that this commentator was almost ready to swear, no man ever understood him perfectly.”

Balzac thus expresses his sentiments of Tertullian in a letter to his editor, Rigaltius: “I expect,” says he, “the Tertullian you are publishing, that he may learn me that patience, for which he gives such admirable instructions. He is an author to whom your preface would have reconciled me, if I bad an aversion for him; and if the harshness of his expressions, and the vices of his age, had dissuaded me from reading him: but I have had an esteem for him a long time; and as hard and crabbed as he is, yet he is not at all unpleasant to me. I have found in his writings that black light, which is mentioned in one of the ancient poets; and I look upon his obscurity with the same pleasure as that of ebony which is very bright and neatly wrought. This has always been my opinion; for as the beauties of Africa are no less amiable, though they are not like ours, and as Sophonisba has eclipsed several Italian ladies, so the wits of that country are not less pleasing with this foreign sort of eloquence; and I shall prefer him to a great many affected imitators of Cicero. And though we should grant to nice critics that his style is of iron, yet they must likewise own to us, that out of this iron he has forged most excellent weapons: that he has defended the honour and innocence of Christianity; that he has quite routed the Valentinians, and s truck Man-ion to the very heart.” Our learned counryman, Dr. Cave, has likewise shewn himself, still more than Balzac, an advocate for Tertullian’s style; and, with submission to Lactuntius, who (as we have seen above) censured it as harsh, inelegant, and obscure, affirms, that “it has a certain majesty peculiar to itself, a sublime and noble eloquence seasoned abundantly with wit and satire, which, at the same time that it exercises the sagacity or.” a reader, highly entertains and pleases him.“The style, however, of Tertullian, is a matter of less consequence than those other merits which give him a rank among the fathers: but in this respect it seems difficult which of the two were predominant, his virtues or his defects. He was endued with a great genius, but seemed deficient in point of judgment. His piety was warm and vigorous, but at the same time melancholy and austere, and his credulity and superstition, learned as he was, were such as could only have been expected from the darkest ignorance. He placed religion too much in austere observances; and in this respect, the littleness of his views appears conspicuous in the very first tract in the volume of his works,” De Pailio," the purport of which is to recommend a vulgar and rustic kind of garment for Christians in the place of the Roman toga; hut a more remarkable instance is given of his absurd scrupulosity about such trifles, in which he warmly approves the conduct of a Christian soldier who refused to wear a crown of laurel which his commander had given him with the rest of the regiment, and was punished for his disobedience. Upon the whole, although his works throw some light on the state of Christianity in his time, they contain very little matter of useful instruction.

The principal editors of this father, who have given. editions of his works in one collected body, are Rhenanus, Pamelius, and Rigaltius. Rhenanus first published them at Basil in 1521, from two manuscripts which he had procured from two abbeys in Germany, As this editor was well versed in all parts of learning, and especially in-ecclesiastical antiquity, so none have laboured more successfully than he in the explication of Tertullian; and Rigaltius has observed, with reason, that he wanted nothing to have made his work complete, but more manuscripts: and though, says Du Pin, his notes have been censured by the Spanish inquisition, and put at Rome into the Index expurgatorius, yet this should not diminish the esteem we ought to have for him. Rhenanus’s edition had been printed a great number of times, when Pamelius published Tertulliau with new commentaries, at Antwerp, in 1579; and although this editor has been blamed for digressing too much to things foreign to his points, yet his notes are useful and learned. His edition, as well as Rhenanus’s, has been printed often, in various places. After these, the learned Rigaltius produced his edition in 1634, which is far preferable to either of the former; for, having some manuscripts, and other advantages which the former editors wanted, he has given a more correct text. He has also accompanied it with notes, in which he has explained difficult passages, cleared some ancient customs, and discussed many curious points of learning. The greatest objection to this editor has been made by the Roman catholics, who say that he has occasionally made observations not favourable to the present practice of the church: but, says Du Pin, “whatever exceptions may be made to his divinity, his remarks relating to grammar, criticism, and the explication of difficult passages, are excellent.” A new edition of Tertullian was begun at Halle, by Semler, in 1770, and six parts published in small 8vo; and the same was reprinted with a view to be continued by Oberthur, in 1780 81, 2 vols. 8vo, but neither the one nor the other have been completed. Detached pieces of Tertullian have been edited by very learned critics. Salmasius bestowed a very voluminous comment upon his small piece “De Pallio,” the best edition of which is that of Lcyden, 1656, in 8vo; but some so under-rate it as to think that its principal value is a fine print of Salmasius, placed at the beginning of it. His “Apologeticus,” as it has been most read, so it has been the oftenest published of all this father’s works. This apology for Christianity and its professors was written about the year 200, in the beginning of the persecution under the emperor Severus. It is commonly believed that he wrote it at Rome, and addressed it to the senate: but it is more probable that it was composed in Africa, as, indeed, he does not address himself to the senate, but to the proconsul of Africa, and the governors of the provinces. The best edition of it is that by Havercamp, at Leyden, 1718, 8vo.

, an Italian painter and engraver, was born at Lucca in 1611. It is thought that he began his studies in his native city, but he was impatient to see Rome, where he became a disciple of Dominichino. He was so attached to the pursuit of his profession,that while he was copying the antiques at Rome he forgot to provide for his own subsistence. He was relieved from great wretchedness by the compassion of Sandrart, who recommended him effectually to prince Giustiniani, and other patrons. He was unfortunately drowned in the Tiber, at the age of thirty-nine, in 1650, endeavouring to recover hrts hat, which had been blown into the river.

The style of Pietro Testa as a designer, Mr. Fuseli pronounces unequal “he generally tacked to antique torsos ignoble heads and extremities copied from vulgar models. Of female beauty he seems to have been ignorant. Of his compositions, generally perplexed and crowded, the best known and most correct, is that of Achilles dragging Hector from the walls of Troy to the Grecian fleet. He delighted in allegoric subjects, which are mines of picturesque effects and attitudes, but in their meaning as obscure as the occasions to which they allude. Of expression he knew only the extremes, grimace, or loathsomeness and horror; but the charge of having been a bad colourist is founded on ignorance: his tone is genial, harmonious, and warm, as his pencil marrowy and free; supported by powerful masses of chiaroscuro and transparent shades.”

, a learned Portuguese Dominican, was born in 1543. He was prior of the convent at Santaren, 1578, when king Sebastian undertook the African expedition in which he perished. Cardinal Henry, who succeeded him, dying soon after, Texeira joined the friends of Anthony, who had been proclaimed king by the people, and constantly adhered to him. He accompanied this prince into France, 1581, to solicit help against Philip II. who disputed the crown with him. Though Anthony’s almoner, he was honoured with the title of preacher and counsellor to Henry III; and after the death of that monarch, attached himself to Henry IV“. with whom he became a great favourite. He died about 1620. Texiera’s works clearly discover his hatred of the Spaniards, and his aversion to Philip II. who took Portugal from prince Anthony. It is asserted, that as he was preaching one day on the love of our neighbour, he said,” We are obliged to love all men of whatever religion, sect, or nation, even Castilians.“His political, historical, and theological writings are very numerous.” De Portugallioe ortu,“Paris, 1582, 4to, 70 pages, scarce. A treatise” On theOrifi'tmme,“1598, 12mo;” Adventures of Don Sebastian," 8vo.

, a celebrated Greek philosopher, and the first of the seven wise men of Greece, was born at Miletus about 640 years B. C. After acquiring the usual learning of his own country, he travelled into Egypt and several parts of Asia, to learn astronomy, geometry, mystical divinity, natural knowledge, or philosophy, &c. In Egypt he met for some time great favour from the king, Arnasis; but he lost it again by the freedom of his remarks on the conduct of kings, which, it is said, occasioned his return to his own country, where he communicated the knowledge he had acquired to many disciples, among the principal of whom were Anaximander, Anaximenes, and Pythagoras, and was the author of the Ionian sect of philosophers. He always, however, lived very retired, and refused the proffered favours of many great men. He was often visited by Solon; and it is said he took great pleasure in the conversation of Thrasybulus, whose excellent wit made him forget that he was Tyrant of Miletus.

Laertius, and several other writers, agree that he was the father of the Greek philosophy; being the first that made any researches into natural knowledge, and mathematics. His doctrine was, that water was the principle of which all the bodies in the universe are composed; that the world was the work of God; and that God sees the most secret thoughts in the heart of man. He said, that in order to live well, we ought to abstain from what we find fault with in others; that bodily felicity consists in health; and that of the mind in knowledge. That the most ancient of beings is God, because he is uncreated; that nothing is more beautiful than the world, because it is the work of God; nothing more extensive than space, quicker than spirit, stronger than necessity, wiser than time. He used to observe, that we ought never to say that to any one which may be turned to our prejudice; and that we should live with our friends as with persons that may become our enemies.

In geometry, it has been said, he was a considerable inventor, as well as an improver; particularly in triangles. And all the writers agree that he was the first, even in Egypt, who took the height of the pyramids by the shadow. His knowledge and improvements in astronomy were very considerable. He divided the celestial sphere into five circles or zones, the arctic and antarctic circles, the two tropical ci ivies, and the equator. He observed the apparent- diameter of the sun, which he made equal to half a degree and formed the constellation of the Little Bear. He observed the nature and course of eclipses, and calculated them exactly; one in particular, memorably recorded by Herodotus, as it happened on a day of battle between the Medes and Lydians, which, Laertius says, he had foretold to the lonians. And the same author informs us that he divided the year into 365 days. Plutarch not only confirms his general knowledge of eclipses, but that his doctrine was, that an eclipse of the sun is occasioned by the intervention of the moon, and that an eclipse of the moon is caused by the intervention of the earth.

His morals were as just as his mathematics well grounded, and his judgment in civil affairs equal to either. He was very averse to tyranny, and esteemed monarchy little better in any shape. Diogenes Laertius relates, that walking to contemplate the stars, he fell into a ditch; on which a good old woman, that attended him, exclaimed, “How canst thou know what is doing in the heavens, when thou seest not what is at thy feet?” He went to visit Croesus, who was marching a powerful army into Cappadocia, and enabled him to pass the river Halys without making a bridge. Thales died soon after, at above ninety years of age, it is said, at the Olympic games, where, oppressed with heat, thirst, and a load of years, he, in public view, sunk into the arms of his friends.

Concerning his writings, it remains doubtful whether he left any behind him; at least none have come down to us. Augustine mentions some books of natural philosophy; Simplicius, some written on nautic astrology; Laertius, two treatises on the tropics and equinoxes; and Suidas, a treatise on meteors, written in verse.

, an ancient Gretik orator and philosopher, whose eloquence procured him the name of Euphrades, was of Paphlagonia, and flourished in the fourth century His father, Eugenius, was a man of noble birth, and educated his son under his own care. After teaching philosophy twenty years at Constantinople, and acquiring a great reputation, he went to Rome, where the emperor offered any conditions if he would fix himself in that city; but he returned soon, and settled at Constantinople, where he married, and had children. Themistius was a peripatetic, and tells us in one of his orations that he had chosen Aristotle for the arbiter of his opinions, and the guide of his life; yet he was not so bigotted to this master, but that he was well versed in Plato, and was particularly studious of the diction and manner of this philosopher, as appears from his works. He had a great opinion of the necessity of sacrificing to the graces; and he says in another oration, “I often converse with the divine Plato, I live with Aristotle, and I am very unwillingly separated from Homer.”

He had great interest with several succeeding emperors. Constantius elected him into the senate in the year 355, ordered a brazen statue to be erected to him in 361, and pronounced his philosophy “the ornament of his reign.” Julian made him prefect of Constantinople in the year 362, and wrote letters to him, some of which are still extant. Jovian, Valens, Valentinian, and Gratian, shewed him many marks of esteem and affection, and heard him with pleasure haranguing upon the most important subjects. Valens in particular, who was inclined to favour the Arians, suffered himself to be diverted byThemistius from persecuting the orthodox; who represented to him the little reason, there was to be surprised at a diversity of opinions among the Christians, when that was nothing in comparison of the differences among the heathens; and that such differences ought never to terminate in sanguinary measures; and by such arguments he is said to have procured universal toleration. Though himself a confirmed heathen, he maintained correspondences and friendship with Christians, and particularly with Gregory of Nazianzen, who, in a letter to him, still extant, calls him “the king of language and composition.” Lastly, the emperor Theodosius made him again prefect of Constantinople in the year 384; and, when he was going into the west, placed his son Arcadius with him as a pupil. He lived to a great age; but the precise time of his death is not recorded. He has Sometimes been confounded with another Themistius, who was much younger than he, a deacon of Alexandria, and the founder of a sect among Christians.

More than thirty orations of Themistius are still extant> eight of which were published at Venice in 1534, folio, but the best edit on of the whole is that, with a. Latin version by Petavius, and notes by father Hardouin, at Paris, 1684, in folio. He wrote also commentaries upon several parts of Aristotle’s works; which were published in Greek at Venice, in 1534, folio; Latin versions were afterwards made by Hermolaus Barbarus, and others.

, the great preserver of Athens at the time of the Persian invasion, owed no part of his celebrity or influence to the accident of his birth. He was born about 530 B. C. his father being Neocles, an Athenian of no illustrious family, and his mother an obscure woman, a Thracian by birth (according to the best authorities), and not of the best character. His disposition was naturally vehement, yet prudent; and Plutarch says that he was pronounced Y er y early by his preceptor, to be a person who would bring either great good or great evil to his country. Some of the ancients have said that he was dissolute in his youth, and for that reason disinherited; but this is positively denied by Plutarch. His ardent but honourable ambition was soon discovered; and contributed to put him on bad terms with Aristides, and some other leading men. He pushed himself forward in public business, and seeing that it was necessary for Athens to become a maritime power, persuaded the people to declare war against JEgina, and to build an hundred triremes. In these ships he exercised the people, and thus t>ave them those means of defence and aggrandizement which they afterwards employed with so much success. Yet it happened that he had no opportunity of distinguishing his military talents in his youth, being forty years of age at the time of the battle of Marathon; after which he was frequently heard to say “that the trophies of Miltiades disturbed his rest.” As a judge, he was strict and severe; in which office, being asked by Simonides to make some stretch of power in his behalf, he replied, “Neither would you be a good poet if you transgressed the laws of numbers, nor should 1 be a good judge, if I should hold the request of any one more, sacred than the laws.” Themistocles had so much credit with the people, as to get his rival Atistides banished by ostracism. In the Persian war, it was he who first interpreted the wooden walls mentioned by the oracle, to mean the Athenian ships: by his contrivance the fleet of Xerxes was induced to fight in a most disadvantageous situation off Sulamis, where it suffered a total defeat. For his whole conduct in this action he gained the highest honours, both at home and in Sparta. This was in 480, ten years after the battle of Marathon.

The power of Themistocles in Athens was confirmed for a time by this groat exploit, and he earnestly pressed the rebuilding of the city, and the construction of new and more complete fortifications. The latter step gave alarm to the jealousy of Sparta; but Themistocles, employing all his prudence to deceive the Lacedaemonians, and even going to Sparta in person as an ambassador, contrived to gain so much time, that the walls were nearly completed before the negociation was settled. With equal vigilance, patriotism, and sagacity, he superintended the improvement of the Athenian port named Piraeus. After these, and other services to his country, Themistocles met with the return almost invariable in democratic governments, ingratitude. He was accused of aggrandizing his own power and wealth in a naval expedition, was finally implicated in the accusations proved against Pausanias in Sparta, and banished. He sought first the patronage of Admetus, king of the Molossi, and afterwards that of the king of Persia, by whom he was magnificently supported to his death, which happened about 465 years before our sera. His bones, in pursuance of his dying request, were carried into Attica, and privately buried there. The blemishes in the character and conduct, attributed to this great man, cannot, perhaps, with strict historical fidelity, be completely denied; yet much allowance must be made for that party spirit, by which political worth so frequently suffered in Greece. In abilities, and in his actions, he was certainly one of the greatest men whom that country ever produced. “The mind of Themistocles,” says the great historian Thucydides, “seems to have displayed the utmost force of human nature; for the evident superiority of his capacity to that of all other men was truly wonderful. His penetration was such, that from the scantiest information, and with the most instantaneous thought, he formed the most accurate judgment of the past, and gained the clearest insight into the future. He had a discernment that could develope the advantageous and the pernicious in measures proposed, however involved in perplexity and obscurity; and he had, no less remarkably, the faculty of explaining things clearly to others, than that of judging clearly himself, Such, in short, were the powers of his genius, and the readiness of hU judgment, that he was, beyond all men, capable of directing all things, on every occasion.” He died, according to Plutarch, in his sixty-fifth year; leaving a large progeny, to whom the bounty of the Persian monarch was continued. Many of them were, however, restored to their country. It is very commonly said, and Plutarch favours the notion, that he died by poison voluntarily taken: but Thucydides does hot seem to credit the opinion, but rather to consider his death as natural.

, a miscellaneous writer and critic, was born at Sittingbourn in Kent, in which place his father was an eminent attorney. His grammatical learning he received at Isleworth in Middlesex, and afterwards applied himself to the law; but, finding that pursuit tedious and irksome, he quitted it for the profession of poetry. According to the editors of the “Biog. Dramatica,” his first appearance in this profession was not much to his credit. One Henry Mestayer, a watchmaker, had written a play, which he submitted to the correction of Theobald, who formed it into a tragedy, and procured it to be acted and printed as his own. This compelled the watchmaker to publish his own performance in 1716, with a dedication to Theobald. The editors of the Biog. Dram, who appear to have examined both pieces, observe that Theobald, although unmercifully ridiculed by Pope, never appeared so despicable as throughout this transaction. “We had seen him before only in the light of a puny critic:” But here the fell attorney prowls for prey.“Theobald engaged in a paper called” The Censor,“published in Mist’s” Weekly Journal;“and, by delivering his opinion with too little reserve concerning some eminent wits, exposed himself to their resentment. Upon the publication of Pope’s Homer, he praised it in the most extravagant terms; but afterwards thought proper to retract his opinion, and abused the very performance he had before affected to admire. Pope at first made \ lie*, a.d tin* Jhto of his” Dunciad;“but afterwards thought proper to disrobe him of that dignity, and bestow it upon another. In 1726, Theobald published apiece in 8vo, called” Shakespear Restored:“of this, it is said, he was so vain as to aver, in one of Mist’s” Journals,“ct that to expose any errors in it was impracticable;” and, in another, *; that whatever care might for the future be taken, either by Mr. Pope, or any other assistants, he would give above five hundred emendations, that would escape them all.“During two whole years, while Pope was preparing his edition, he published advertisements, requesting assistance, and promising satisfaction to any who would contribute to its greater perfection. But this restorer, who was at that time soliciting favours of him by letters, wholly concealed that he had any such design till after its publication; which he owned in the” Daily Journal of Nov. 26, 1728.“Theobald was not only thus obnoxious to the resentment of Pope, but we find him waging war with Mr. Dennis, who treated him with more roughness, though with less satire. Theobald, in” The Censor,“N 33, calls Dennis by the name of Furius. Dennis, to resent this, in his remarks on Pope’s Homer, thus mentions him:” There is a notorious idiot, one Hight Whacum; who, from an under-spur-leather to the law, is become an understrapper to the playhouse, who has lately burlesqued the Metamorphoses of Ovid, by a vile translation, &c. This fellow is concerned in an impertinent paper called the Censor." Such was the language of Dennis, when inflamed by contradiction.