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, son of Mr. John Davis, of Windsor, was born July II, 1756, and educated at Eating, Middlesex; whence he removed to Baliol college, Oxford, May 17, 1774, where he took his degree of B. A. about January 177-. In the spring of that year he wrote an Examination of Gibbon’s “History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” in which he evinced more knowledge than is usually found at the age of twenty-one. This was answered by the historian in a Vindication, which brougut out a reply by Mr. Davis, who, it is evident, gave Gibbon no small uneasiness by attacking him on his veracity and fairness of quotation, in which Gibbon fancied himself impregnable. In 1780, Mr. Davis having taken his master’s degree, and entered into priest’s orders, was made a fellow of his college; and, for some time before his death, had the office of tutor, which he discharged with a solicitude and constancy too great for the sensibility of his mind, and the delicacy of his constitution. A lingering illness removed him from the society of his many estimable friends, and deprived the public of his expected services. Affected by the strongest and tenderest of those motives, which endear life and subdue fortitude, he sustained the slow approaches of dissolution, not only resigned but cheerful, supported by the principles he had well defended. Feb. 10, 1784, without any apparent change, between a placid slumber and death, he expired. He was buried at Windsor, the place of his nativity. He had cultivated a taste for elegant literature, particularly in poetry. Though his voice was not strong, his elocution was distinct, animated, unaffected, and pathetic. The cheerfulness and vivacity of his conversation, the warmth and benevolence of his heart, fixed by principle, and animated by sentiment, rendered him in his private character, alike amiable and worthy of esteem.

, an eminent navigator, of the sixteenth century, was born at Sandridge, in the parish of StokeGabriel, near Dartmouth in Devonshire. His birth near that eminent sea-port, having given him a fair opportunity, to which probably was added a strong natural disposition, he put himself early to sea; where, by the help of a good master, and his subsequent industry, knowledge, and experience, he became the most expert pilot, and one of the ablest navigators of his time. The first public employment he had was in 1585, when he undertook to discover a new passage, by the north-west parts of America, to the East-Indies. For that purpose, he sailed from Dartmouth, on the seventh of June, with two barks, one of fifty and the other of thirty-five tons, which were fitted out at the charge of some noblemen and gentlemen; and met, July 19, many islands of ice floating, in 60 degrees northern latitude. They were soon encompassed with them; and going upon some, perceived, that the roaring noise they heard, at which they were greatly astonished, was caused only by the rolling of the ice together. The next day, they discovered the southern coast of Greenland, five hundred leagues distant from the Durseys, or Missenhead, in Ireland; and observed it to be extremely rocky and mountainous, and covered with snow, without any signs of wood, grass, or earth to be seen. The shore, likewise, was so full of ice, that no ship could come near it by two leagues: and so shocking was the appearance of it, and the cracking of the ice so hideous, that they imagined it to be a quite desolate country, without a living creature, or even any vegetable substance; for which reason captain Davis named it, “The Land of Desolation.” Perceiving that they were run into a very deep bay, wherein they were almost surrounded with ice, they kept coasting along the edge of it, south-south-west, till the 25th of July; when, after having gone fifty or sixty leagues, they found that the shore lay directly north. This made them alter their course to the north-west, in hopes of finding their desired passage: but on the 29th they discovered land to the north-east, in 64 degr. 15 min. latitude. Making towards it, they perceived that they were passed the ice, and were among many green, temperate, and pleasant islands, bordering upon the shore; though the hills of the continent were still covered with great quantities of snow. Among these islands were many fine bays, and good roads for shipping: they landed in some, and the people of the country came down and conversed with them by signs, making Mr. Davis understand, that there was a great sea towards the north west. He staid in this place till the first of August, and then proceeded in his discovery. The sixth of that month, they found land in 66 degr. 40 min. latitude, quite free from ice; and anchored in a safe road, under a great mountain, the cliffs whereof glistered like gold. This mountain he named, Mount Raleigh: the road where their ships lay at anchor, Totness Road: the bay which encompassed the mountain, Exeter Sound: the foreland towards the north, Dier’s Cape: and the foreland towards the south, Cape Walsingham. He departed from hence the eighth of August, coasting along the shore, which lay south-south-west, and east-north-east; and on the eleventh came to the most southerly cape of that land, which he named, “The Cape of God’s Mercy,” as being the place of their first entrance for the discovery. Going forward, they came into a very fine straight, or passage, in some places twenty leagues broad, in others thirty, quite free from ice, the weather in it very tolerable, and the water of the same colour and nature as the main ocean. This passage still retains the name of its first discoverer, being called to this day Fretum Davis, or Davis’s Straights. Having sailed, north-west, sixty leagues in this passage, they discovered several islands in the midst of it; on some of which they landed. The coast was very barren, without wood or grass; and the rocks were like fine marble, full of veins of divers colours. Some days after they continued searching for the north-west passage, but found only a great number of islands. And, on the 2oth, the wind coming contrary, they altered their course and design, and returning for England, arrived at Dartmouth the 29th of September. The next year Mr. Davis undertook a second voyage, for the farther discovery of the north-west passage, being supported and encouraged again by secretary Walsingham, and other adventurers. With' a view therefore of searching the bottom of the Straights he had been in the year before, he sailed from Dartmouth, May the 7th, 1586, with four ships, and the 15th of June discovered land in 60 degrees latitude, and 47 degrees longitude west from London. The ice along the coast reached in some places ten, in some twenty, and in others fifty leagues into the sea; so that, to avoid it, they were forced to bear into 57 degrees latitude. After many tempestuous storms, they made the land again, June the 29th, in 64 degrees of latitude, and 58 of longitude; and ran among the temperate islands they had been at the year before. But the water was so deep, they could not easily come to an anchor; yet they found means to go ashore, on some of the islands, where they were much caressed and welcomed by the natives, who knew them again. Having finished a pinnace, which was to serve them for a front in their discoveries, they landed, not only in that, but also in their boats, in several places: and, upon the strictest search, found the land not to be a continent, as they imagined, but a collection of huge, waste, and desert isles, with great sounds and inlets passing between sea and sea. They pursued their voyage the 11th of July, and on the 17th, in 63 degrees 8 minutes latitude, met with a prodigious mass of ice, which they coasted till the 30th. This was a great obstacle and discouragement to them, not having the like there the year before; and, besides, the men beginning to grow sickly, the crew of one of the ships, on which he chiefly depended, forsook him, and resolved to proceed no farther. However, not to disappoint Mr. W. Sanderson, who was the chief adventurer in this voyage, and for fear of losing the favour of secretary Walsingham, who had this discovery much at heart, Mr. Davis undertook to proceed alone in his small bark of thirty tons. Having therefore fitted, and well-victualled it, in a harbour lying in 66 degrees 33 minutes latitude, and 70 degrees longitude, which he found to be a very hot place, and full of muscatoes, he set sail the 12th of August, and coming into a straight followed the course of it for eighty leagues, till he came among many islands, where the water ebbed and flowed six fathom deep. He had hopes of finding a passage there, but upon searching farther in his boat, he perceived there was none. He then returned again into the open sea, and kept coasting southward as far as 54 degrees and a half of latitude: in which time he found another great inlet near forty leagues broad, between two lands, west, where the water ran in with great violence. This, he imagined, was the passage so long sought for; but the wind being then contrary, and two furious storms happening soon after, he neither thought it safe nor wise to proceed farther, especially in one small bark, and when the season was so far advanced. He, therefore, sailed for England the 11th of September; and arrived there in the beginning of October. By the observations which he made, he concluded, that the north parts of America are all islands. He made a third voyage to these parts again the year following, 1587. All the western merchants, and most of those of London, refused to be engaged farther in the undertaking; but it was encouraged by the lord treasurer Burleigh and secretary Walsinghain. Mr. Davis having, in his last voyage, discovered prodigious quantities of excellent cud-tish, in 56 degrees of latitude, two ships were sent along with him for fishing, and one only for the discovery of the North west passage. They sailed from Dartmouth the 19tii of May, and discovered land the 14th of June, at sixteen leagues distance, but very mountainous, and covered with snow. On the 21st of June the two barks left him, and went upon the fishing, after having promised him, not to depart till his return to them about the end of August, yet having finished their voyage in about sixteen days after, they set sail for England without any regard to their promise. Captain Davis, in the mean time, pursued his intended discovery, in the sea between America and Greenland, from 64 to 73 degrees of latitude. Having entered the Straights which bear his name, he went on northward, from the 21st to the 30th of June; naming one part Merchants Coast; another, the London Coast; another, Hope Sanderson in 73 degrees latitude, being the farthest he went that day. The wind coming northerly, he altered his course, and ran forty leagues west, without seeing any laud. On the 2d of July, he fell in with a great bank of ice, which he coasted southward till the 1 9th of July, when he came within sight of Mount Raleigh on the American coast, in about 67 degrees of latitude. Having sailed sixty leagues north-west into the gulf that lies beyond it, he anchored, July 23, at the bottom of that gulf, among many islands, which he named “The Earl of Cumberland’s Isles” He quitted that place again the same day, and sailed back south-east, in order to recover the sea; which he did the 29th in 62 degrees of latitude. The 30th he passed by a great bank, or inlet, to which he gave the name of Lumley’s Inlet; and the next day by a head land, which he called “The Earl of Warwick’s Foreland.” On the first of August he fell in with the southermost cape, named by him Chudley’s Cape: and, the 12th, passed by an island which he named Darcy’s Island. When he came in 52 degrees of latitude, not finding the two ships that had promised to stay for him, he was in great distress, having but little wood, and only half a hogshead of water left; yet, taking courage, he made the best of his way home, and arrived at Dartmouth September the 15th, very sanguine, that the north-west passage was most probable, and the execution easy; but secretary Walsinghaw dying not long after, all farther search was laid aside. Mr. Davis, notwithstanding, did not remain idle. For, August 26, 1591, he was captain of the Desire, rear admiral to Mr. Thomas Cavendish, in his second unfortunate expedition to the South -Sea; and is highly blamed by Mr. Cavendish, for having deserted him, and thereby being the cause of his overthrow. After many disasters, Mr. Davis arrived again at Bear-haven in Ireland, June 11, 1593. He performed afterwards no less than five voyages to the East-Indies, in the station of a pilot. One was in a Dutch ship, in which he set out, March 15, 1597-8, from Flushing, and returned to Middleburgh, July 23, 1600. Of the rest we have no account, except of that which he performed with sir Edward Michelbourne, in which were spent nineteen months, from December 5, 1604, to July 9, 1606. During this voyage Mr. Davis was killed, on the 27th of December, 1605, in a desperate fight with some Japonese near the coast of Malacca. He married Faith, daughter of sir John Fulford, of Fulford in Devonshire, knight, by Dorothy his wife, daughter of John lord Bouchier, earl of Bath, by whom probably he had issue: for some of his posterity are said to have been living about the middle of the last century, at or near Deptford.

“The account of his second voyage for the Discovery of the North-west Passage, in 1586,” seems to be of his composition; for he speaks always in the first person. There are likewise in print two letter.-? of his to Mr. Sanderson, one dated from Exeter, October 14, 1586; and the other from Sandridge, September 16, 1587. Hakluyt has also preserved “A Traverse Booke made by M. John Davis, in his third voyage for the discoverie of the Northwest Passage, anno 1587,” and it appears that he composed a treatise entitled “The World’s Hydrographicall Description,” for Hakluyt has extracted from it, and published, “A report of Master John Davis, of his three voyages made for the Discovery of the North-west Passage.” His voyage to the East Indies in a Dutch ship, in 1598, was written also by himself. It is said that “There is a flutter, [Routier] or Brief Directions for sailing into the East Indies, digested into a plain method by this same person, John Davis, of Limehouse, (as he is there called) written upon experiment of his five voyages thither, and home again.” But either it was not written by the same John Davis, who is the subject of this article, or else our John Davis was not killed in the East Indies, as we have said above upon the authority of Purchas, and of those that have copied from him.

, of Hereford, as he usually styled himself, a poet and schoolmaster, was born in that city, and sent when young from a grammar-school there, to the university of Oxford; but Wood has not discovered in what college he studied, nor does it appear that he took any degree. After leaving the university, he returned to his native place, where he obtained the character of a poet, and published several productions of the rhyming kind; but not finding, as it would indeed have been wonderful if he had found, much profit accrue, he set up a writing-school, first at Hereford, and afterwards in London, where he at length acquired the character of one of the first penmen in England. In 1611 we find him living in Fleet-street, and a Roman catholic. From Peck’s Desiderata it appears that Arthur Wilson was one of his pupils, and that the conversation of Davis and his family inspired him with some doubts of the religious kind. From his poems we learn that Davis left a brother, James, at Oxford, who was also a writing-master; and that he himself married a wife whose name was Croft, by whom, he says, he had a “crop of care,” meaning, probably, a large family. As a writing-master, he published some engraved books of instruction, or specimens, but Massey has seen only “The Writing School-master, or Anatomy of Fair Writing,” engraved, after his death, by Ingheenram, which he thinks does not support the high character given of his penmanship by his contemporaries. It is said he was some time tutor to prince Henry, who, according to Birch, wrote a very fine hand. He died about 1618, and, Fuller informs us, was buried in the church or church-yard of St. Giles’s in the Fields.

His poetical works are numerous, but discover very little taste or talent: 1. “St. Peter’s Complaint, with other Poems,” Loud. 1595, 4to. 2. “Mirum in modo; a glimpse of God’s glory, and the soul’s shape,” ibid. 1602, and 1616, 8vo. 3. “Microcosmus, or the Discovery of the Little World,” Oxon. 1603, 4to. 4. “The Holy Rood of Christ’s Church,” Lond. 1609, 4to, with Sonnets. 5. “Humours Heaven and Earth, with the civil wars of Death and Fortune,” ibid. 1609, 8vo. 6. “Wit’s Pilgrimage,” Lond. 4to, no date. 7. “Muse’s Sacrifice, or Divine Meditations,” ibid. 1612, 12mo. 8. “The Muse’s Tears for the loss of their hope, the heroic and never too much praised Henry, prince of Wales,” ibid. 1613, 4to, &c. &c. &c. Four of these volumes are noticed in the Censura Literaria, one in Beloe’s Anecdotes, and one in the British Bibliographer, by Mr. Haslewood, whose character of Davis’s poetry may be adopted with confidence. “Davis’s poetical attempts are generally heavy, dull, obscure, and inharmonious and his pages are remarkable for inconsistency. One while he is pouring forth celestial rhapsodies, and then * with jerkes of wit (as he terms them) to whip every vice,' blundering on expressions too gross for pen or press, while the reader, who may have been edified by his morality, is left to fill up the blank of a disgusting parenthesis. His witticisms are often feeble puns, double entendres, and occasionally have their point depending on a fabricated name. Yet though the whole of his pieces now class as rare, from their number it seems presumable they were not ill received. To us moderns, however, there seldom appears poignancy in his wit, or nerve in his poetry.”

, an Irish divine, was born near Cork, in 1649, and educated at Trinity-college, Dublin, where he took his degree of LL. D. and was accounted an eminent civilian. Having entered into holy orders, he was promoted to be dean of Cork, and was afterwards vicargeneral of the diocese, both which preferments he retained until his death in 1721. He wrote, “A Letter to a friend concerning his changing his religion,” Lond. 1694, 4to. This friend was a Mr. Turner, recorder of Limerick, who had become a Roman catholic. Dr. Davis published also, “The truly Catholick and Old Religion, shewing that the established church in Ireland is more truly a member of the catholic church, than the church of Rome, and that all the ancient Christians, especially in Great Britain and Ireland, were of her communion,” Dublin, 1716, 4to. This was answered the same year by Timothy O'Brien, D. D. of Toulouse, a native of Cork, and then parish priest of Castlelions, in a pamphlet printed at Cork, anonymously, to which Dr. Davis replied in “A Letter to the pretended Answer, &c.” O'Brien returned to the charge with “Goliath beheaded with his own sword,” 4to, to which Dr. Davis replied in “Remarks on a pamphlet entitled Goliath, &c.” He also published two occasional sermons, one on the 30th of January, entitled “Christian Loyalty,” 1716, 4to; the other a charity sermon, Dublin, 1717, 8vo.

, a very eminent statesman, and secretary of state in the reign of queen Elizabeth, was, if not a native of Scotland, at least descended from those who were, as himself professed to sir James Mel vile. At what time he came into the court of queen Elizabeth, or in what state, is uncertain. It is most probable, that his parts and learning, together with that extraordinary diligence and wonderful address for which he was always distinguished, recommended him to Mr. Killigrew, afterwards sir Henry Kiiligrew, with whom he went in quality of secretary, at the time he was sent into Scotland, to compliment queen Mary upon the birth of her son. This was in 1566, and there is a good reason to believe that he remained from that time about the court, and was employed in several affairs of great consequence. In 1575, when the states of Brabant and Flanders assumed to themselves the administration of all affairs till his catholic majesty should appoint a new governor of the Low Countries, Mr. Davison was sent over with a public character from the queen to those states, under the plausible pretence of exhorting them to continue in their obedience to his catholic majesty; but, in reality, to see how things actually stood in that part of the world, that her majesty might be the better able to know how to proceed in respect to the several applications made to her from the prince of Orange, and the people of Holland. He executed this commission very successfully, and therefore the queen sent him over as her minister, to pacify the troubles that had arisen at Ghent; and when his presence was no longer necessary there, he was commissioned on her behalf to the States of Holland, in 1579. His conduct there gave equal satisfaction to the queen his mistress, and to those with whom he negotiated. He gave them great hopes of the queen’s assistance and support, and when a sum of money was desired, as absolutely necessary towards providing for their defence, he very readily undertook to procure it upon reasonable security; in consequence of which, a very considerable sum was sent from England, for which all the valuable jewels and fine plate that had been pledged by Matthias of Austria to the States of Holland, and which were the remains of the magnificence of the house of Burgundy, were transported to England. These journies, and the success attending them, gave Mr. Davison great reputation at court, insomuch, that in all matters of a nice and difficult nature, Davison was some way or other continually employed. Thus in 1583, when matters wore a serious aspect in Scotland, he was sent thither as the queen’s ambassador, in order to counteract the French ministers, and to engage the king of Scots and the people, both to slight the offers made them from that country, and to depend wholly upon assistance from England. Affairs in the Low Countries coming at last to a crisis, and the states resolving to depend upon queen Elizabeth, in the bold design they had formed of defending their freedom by force of arms, and rendering themselves independent, Mr. Davison, at this time clerk of the privy council, was chosen to manage this delicate business, and to conclude with them that alliance which was to be the basis of their future undertakings. In this, which, without question, was one of the most perplexed transactions in that whole reign, he conducted things with such a happy dexterity, as to merit the strongest acknowledgments on the part of the States, at the same time that he rendered the highest service to the queen his mistress, and obtained ample security for those expences which that princess thought necessary in order to keep danger at a distance, and to encourage the flames of war in the dominions of her enemy, whom at that juncture she knew to be meditating how he might transfer them into her own. Upon the return of Mr. Davison into England, after the conclusion of this treaty, he was declared of the privy-council, and appointed one of her majesty’s principal secretaries of state, in conjunction with sir Francis Walsingham; so that, at this time, these offices may be affirmed to have been as well filled as in any period that can be assigned in our history, and yet by persons of very different, or rather opposite dispositions; for Walsingham was a man of great art and intrigue, one who was not displeased that he was thought such a person, and whose capacity was still deeper than 'those who understood it best apprehended it to be. Davison, on the other hand, had a just reputation for wisdom and probity; and, though he had been concerned in many intricate affairs, yet he preserved a character so unspotted, that, to the time he came into this office, he had done nothing that could draw upon him the least imputation. It is an opinion countenanced by Camden, and which has met with general acceptance, that he was raised in order to be ruined, and that, when he was made secretary of state, there was a view of obliging him to go out of his depth in that matter, which brought upon him all his misfortunes. This conjecture is very plausible, and yet there is good reason to doubt whether it is well founded. Mr. Davison had attached himself, during the progress of his fortunes, to the potent earl of Leicester; and it was chiefly to his favour and interest that he stood indebted for this high employment, in which, if he was deceived by another great statesman, it could not be said that he was raised and ruined by the same hands. But there is nothing more probable than that the bringing about such an event by an instrument which his rival had raised, and then removing him, and rendering his parts useless to those who had raised him, gave a double satisfaction to him who managed this design. It is an object of great curiosity to trace the principal steps of this transaction, which was, without doubt, one of the finest strokes of political management in that whole reign. When the resolution was taken, in the beginning of October 1586, to bring the queen of Scots? to a trial, and a commission was issued for that purpose, secretary Davison’s name was inserted in that commission; but it does not appear that he was present when that commission was opened at Fotheringay castle, on the llth of October, or that he ever assisted there at all. Indeed, the management of that transaction was very wisely left in the hands of those who with so much address had conducted the antecedent business for the conviction of Anthony Babington, and his accomplices, upon the truth and justice of which, the proceedings against the queen of Scots entirely depended. On the 25th of October the sentence was declared in the star-chamber, things proceeding still in the same channel, and nothing particularly done by secretary Davison. On the 29th of the same month the parliament met, in which Serjeant Puckering was speaker of the house of commons; and, upon an application from both houses, queen Elizabeth caused the sentence to be published, which, soon after, was notified to the queen of Scots; yet hitherto all was transacted by the other secretary, who was considered by the nation in general as the person who had led this prosecution from beginning to end. The true meaning of this long and solemn proceeding was certainly to remove, as far as possible, any reflection upon queen Elizabeth; and, that it might appear in the most conspicuous manner to the world, that she was urged, and even constrained to take the life of the queen of Scots, instead of seeking or desiring it. This assertion is not founded upon conjecture, but is a direct matter of fact; for, in her first answer to the parliament, given at Richmond the 12th of November, she complained that the late act had brought her into a great strait, by obliging her to give directions for that queen’s death; and upon the second application, on the 24th of the same month, the queen enters largely into the consequences that must naturally follow upon her taking that step, and on the consideration of them, grounds her returning no definitive resolution, even to this second application. The delay which followed after the publication of the sentence, gave an opportunity for the French king, and several other princes, to interpose, but more especially to king James, whose ambassadors, and particularly sir Robert Melvile, pressed the queen very hard. Camden says, that his ambassadors unseasonably mixing threatenings with intreaties, they were not very welcome; so that after a few days the ambassadors were dismissed, with small hopes of succeeding. But we are elsewhere told, that, when Melvile requested a respite of execution for eight days, she answered, “Not an hour.” This seemed to be a plain declaration of her majesty’s final determination, and such in all probability it was, so that her death being resolved, the only point that remained under debate was, how she should die, that is, whether by the hand of an executioner, or otherwise. In respect to this, the two secretaries seem to have been of different sentiments. Mr. Davison thought the forms of justice should go on, and the end of this melancholy transaction correspond with the rest of the proceedings. Upon this, sir Francis Walsingham pretended sickness, and did not come to court, and by this means the whole business of drawing and bringing the warrant to the queen to sign, fell upon Davison, who, pursuant to the queen’s directions, went through it in the manner that Camden has related. But it is very remarkable, that, while these judicial steps were taking, the other method, to which the queen herself seemed to incline, proceeded also, and secretary Walsingham, notwithstanding his sickness, wrote the very day the warrant was signed, which was Wednesday, February 1st, 1586-7, to sir Amiss Pawlet and sir Drew Drury, to put them in mind of the association, as a thing that might countenance, at least, if not justify, this other way of removing the queen of Scots. It is true, that Mr. Davison subscribed this letter, and wrote another to the same persons two days after; but it appears plainly from the anssver, that the keepers of the queen of Scots considered the motion as coming from Walsingharn. The warrant being delivered to the lords of the council, they sent it down by Mr. Beale, their clerk, a man of sour and stubborn temper, and who had always shewn a great bitterness against the queen of Scots. The day of his departure does not appear; but queen Mary had notice given her on the Monday, to prepare for death on the Wednesday, which she accordingly suffered. As soon as queen Elizabeth was informed of it, she expressed great resentment against her council, forbad them her presence and the court; and caused some of them to be examined, as if she intended to call them to an account for the share they had in this transaction. We are not told particularly who these counsellors were, excepting the lord treasurer Burleigh, who fell into a temporary disgrace about it, and was actually a witness against Mr. Davison. As for the earl of Leicester and secretary Walsingharn, they had prudently withdrawn themselves at the last act of the tragedy, and took care to publish so much, by their letters into Scotland; but secretary Davison, upon whom it was resolved the whole weight of this business should fall, v.-deprived of his office, and sent prisoner to the Tower, at which nobody seerus to have been so much alarmed as the lord treasurer, who, though himself at that time in disgrace, wrote to the queen in strong terms, and once intended to have written in much stronger. This application bad no effect, for the queen having sent her kinsman Mr. Cary, son to the lord Hunsdon, into Scotland, to excuse the matter to king James, charged with a letter to him under her own hand, in which she in the strongest terms possible asserted her own innocence, there was a necessity of doing something that Davison[?] carry an air of evidence, in support of the turn she had now given to the death of that princess. On the 28th of March following, Davison, after having undergone various examinations, was brought to his trial in the star chamber, for the contempt of which he had been guilty, in revealing the queen’s counsels to her privy counsellors, and performing what he understood to be the duty of his office in quality of her secretary. We have several accounts of this trial, which, in a variety of circumstances, differ from each other. In this, however, they all agree, that the judges, who fined him ten thousand marks, and imprisonment during the queen’s pleasure, gave him a very high character, and declared him to be, in their opinions, both an able ana an honest man. One thing is very remarkable, that, in the conclusion of this business, sir Christopher Wray, chief justice of the queen’s bench, told the court, that though the queen had been offended with her council, and had left them to examination, yet now she forgave them, being satisfied that they were misled b? this man’s suggestions. Sir James Melvile, who wrote at that time, and who seems to have had some prejudice against Davison, said very candidly and fairly upon this occasion, that he was deceived by the council. As soon as the proceeding was over, the queen, to put it out of doubt with the king of Scots, that his mother was put to death without her privity or intention, sent him the judgment given against Davison, subscribed by those who had given it, and exemplified under the great seal, together with another instrument, under the hands of all the judges of England, that the sentence against his mother could not in the least prejudice his title to the succession. As for Mr. Davison, now left to a strange reward for his past services, a long imprisonment, which reduced him to indigence, he comforted himself with the thoughts of his innocence; and, to secure his memory from being blasted by that judgment which had withered his fortune, he had long before written an apology for his own conduct, which he addressed to secretary Walsingham, as the man most interested in it, and who could best testify whether what he affirmed was truth or not. In this he gave a very clear and natural detail of the transaction which cost him all his sufferings. It is allowed by all who have written on this subject, and especially by Camden, that he was a very unhappy, though at the same time a very capable and honest man. As such we have seen him recommended to queen Elizabeth by the treasurer Burleigh, and as such he was strongly recommended by the earl of Essex to king James I. It seems, that noble person stuck fast by him under his misfortunes, which plainly shews the party to which he had always adhered. That lord lost no opportunity of soliciting the queen in his favour, and never let slip any occasion of testifying for him the warmest and thesincerest affection. At length, it seems he was not altogether unsuccessful; for though, upon the death of secretary Walsingham, the queen absolutely rejected his motion, that Mr. Davison should come into his place, yet, afterwards, it seems that she yielded in some degree, as plainly appears by the earl’s letter to king James. That we are under an incapacity of tracing him farther, is owing to the profound silence of the writers of those times.

"Let me here, at the end of the apology, remark finally concerning Davison, that, though he was not an honest man, yet he was so nearly one, as to be a very prodigy for the ministry of Elizabeth. He refused, it appears, to sign that very bond of association which was signed by all the nation, and which even the despairing Mary offered, on her liberty being granted, to sign herself. Yet he refused, though Leicester pushed on the association, and though Elizabeth urged him to sign it. Among the pleas which he advances for himself in his other apology, he particularly states * his former absolute refusal to sign the band of association, being earnestly pressed thereunto by her majesty’s self,‘ (Robertson, II. 483). This indeed is a very strong evidence of a manly virtuousness in him. But he did other things in the same spirit of virtue. He declined to act as a commissioner on the examination of Babington and his accomplices for their conspiracy in favour of Mary, and took a journey to Bath, in order to save himself from acting, (Robertson, II. 483). He was a means, too, of preventing the commissioners who were sent to try Mary at Fotheringay castle, from pronouncing sentence upon her immediately after the trial, and of obliging them to return first to London, and report their proceedings to Elizabeth, (Robertson, II. 483). We have already seen that he kept the warrant for the execution of Mary five or six weeks in his hands, without offering to present it to Elizabeth for her signing. We have equally seen that he actually neglected to obey a personal command of Elizabeth’s for bringing the warrant to her, and that he thus neglected for ’ many days,‘ even till the queen fired at his conduct, and sent him a peremptory order to bring it. Even then, and even when Paulet’s answer had been received, and all delay was now at an end for ever, he would not be concerned in sending away the warrant himself, but returned it into the hands from which he had received it, and left Cecil and the council to send it. And, as in all the time ’ before her trial, he neither is nor can be charged, to have had any hand at all in the cause of the said queen, or done any thing whatsoever concerning the same, directly or indirectly,‘ so, * after the return thence of the commissioners, it is well known to all her council, that he never was at any deliberation or meeting whatsoever, in parliament or council, concerning the cause of the said queen, till the sending down of her majesty’s warrant unto the commissioners by the lords and others of her council,’ (Robertson, II. 481).

, an eminent French naturalist, was born at Montbar in the department of tlio Cote D'Or, May 29, 1716. His father, John Daubenton, was a notary in that place, and his mother’s name was Mary Pichenot. In his youth he distinguished himself by the sweetness of his temper, and by a diligent application to his Studies. The Jesuits of Dijon, under whose tuition he was first placed, noticed him in a peculiar manner. Having gone through the philosophical course taught by the Dominicans of Dijon, his father, who destined him for the church, and who had made him assume the ecclesiastical dress at the age of twelve, sent him to Paris to study theology, but his predilection for natural history induced him privately to study medicine. Accordingly he attended the lectures of Baron, Martiney, and Col de Villars, and likewise those of Winslow, Hunault, and Anthony Jussieu, in the botanic garden. The death of his father, which happened in 1736, leaving him at liberty to pursue the bent of his own inclinations, he took his degrees at Rheims in 1740 and 1741, after which he returned to his native province, where, doubtless, his ambition would have been for ever confined to the practice of medicine, had not a happy accident brought him upon a more brilliant theatre.

Montbar had given birth, about the same time, to the celebrated Buffon, a man of a very different character; who, though possessed of an independent fortune, a robust constitution, and actuated by a violent passion for pleasure, had determined to devote himself to the cultivation of the sciences; and of those, at length to give the preference to natural history, which he saw in its infancy and rude state, and very justly conceived that every thing must be collected, revised, and examined. Perceiving, however, that iiis ardent and lively imagination rendered him unequal to such laborious and difficult researches, and even that the weakness of his sight excluded the hope of succeeding in them, he endeavoured to discover a man, who, besiJes a sound judgment, and a certain quickness of perception, should possess sufficient modesty and devotedness to induce him to rest satisfied with acting, in appearance, a subordinate part, and to serve him, as it were, as a hand and an eye in the prosecution of his undertaking. Such a man he at last found in Daubenton, the companion of his early years. The character, however, of these two philosophers was almost opposite in every respect. Buffon was violent, impatient, rash: Daubenton was all gentleness, patience, and caution: Buffon wished to divine the truth rather than to discover it: Daubenton believed nothing which he had not himself seen and ascertained: Buffon suffered his imagination to lead him from nature; Daubenton, on the contrary, discarded from his writings every expression which was calculated to mislead. They were thus happily fitted to correct each other’s faults. Accordingly, the History of Quadrupeds, which appeared while they laboured together, is the most exempt from error of any of the divisions which constitute Buffon’s Natural History.

About 1742 Buffon drew him to Paris. At that time, the office of keeper and demonstrator of the cabinet of natural history was in a great measure nominal, and as Noguez, who possessed that title, had been long absent, his place was occasionally supplied by any one present. By the influence of Buffon, this office was revived, and conferred on Daubenton in 1745. His salary, which at first did not exceed 500 francs, was, by degrees, afterwards augmented to 2000, or, as some say, 4000. While he was only an assistant in the academy of sciences, Buffon, who acted as its treasurer, conferred upon him several favours. On his arrival at Paris he procured him. a lodging, and neglected nothing in order to secure to him ease and independence; while Daubenton pursued with indefatigable industry those labours which were necessary to second the views of his benefactor, and established by this means the two principal monuments of his own glory.

Availing himself of the patronage of Buffon, and of his influence with the government, Daubenton soon formed and executed a very extensive plan: he conceived that all the productions of nature should find a place in the temple he had consecrated to her; he was fully aware that those objects which are regarded as the most important, could only be thoroughly known by a comparison of them with others; and that there existed no one that had not a greater or less affinity with the rest of nature. Impressed with this view of the subject, he made the most unremitting efforts to render his collection complete; whilst at the same time he bestowed the greatest attention on the formation of those anatomical preparations which for a long time distinguished the cabinet of Paris, and which, however disagreeable they may be to the common eye, are not the less useful to those who wish to penetrate beyond the move surface of organized beings, and who endeavour to render natural history a philosophical science, by illustrating the phenomena it exhibits.

The study and arrangement of these productions engrossed his whole attention, and seemed to constitute the only passion he ever experienced. Shut up for whole days in the cabinet, he incessantly occupied himself in changing the disposition of the objects he had accumulated, till by a scrupulous investigation of their several parts, and attempting every possible method, he fell upon that arrangement which was equally consonant to true taste and accurate science^ This passion for arrangement was again revived in full force during his latter years; when, in consequence of victories obtained by the republican arms, there was brought to the museum a fresh store of natural curiosities, and when circumstances permitted him to give to the whole a more complete illustration. At eighty-four years of age, when he stooped much, and both his hands and feet had suffered greatly from the gout, not being able to walk without assistance, he was conducted by two persons every morning to the cabinet, in order to superintend the arrangement of the minerals, the only department allotted to him according to the new organization of the establishment. The second monument that Daubenton has left behind him, and which must ever perpetuate his name, is his Description of Quadrupeds. It must, however, afford a subject of regret to every lover of science, that some circumstances prevented him from extending, as was his original intention, that description to all the productions contained in the cabinet of natural history. It is not now our business to analyze the descriptive part of the Natural History, a work as immense in its details as astonishing in the boldness of the plan, nor to characterize the new and important improvements introduced by him into this department of science. It may be sufficient, in order to convey some idea of the immensity of that work, to observe, that it comprehends not only the external characters, but the internal description of one hundred and eighty-two species of quadrupeds, of which fifty-eight had never been dissected, and thirteen were absolutely non-descripts. It contains, moreover, the external description of twenty-six species, five of which were wholly unknown. The number of new species there described by him is eighteen; but the new and interesting facts which he has brought forward respecting those species of which we had only before a very superficial knowledge, are extremely numerous. The greatest inerit of the work, however, consists in the order and disposition with which all the species are described. It delighted the author to repeat, that he was the first who had established an accurate system of comparative anatomy; the truth of which must certainly be admitted, in this sense, that as all his observations were conducted upon one uniform plan, and equally extended to every animal, it is extremely easy to comprehend their reciprocal relations; that as he was never biassed by any preconceived hypothesis, he has bestowed an equal attention upon every part, and in no instance ever omitted or concealed what could not be reconciled to his own system. This work of Daubenton may be considered as a rich mine, which all who devote themselves to similar pursuits, find it necessary to explore, and of which many have profited without due acknowledgment. Nothing more is frequently necessary than to exhibit a general view of his observations, and to place them under different heads, in order to obtain results highly interesting: it is in this sense that we must understand the expression of the celebrated Camper, “that Daubenton was unconscious of all the discoveries of which he was the author.”

This work procured for Daubenton a very high reputation, and drew upon him the envy of Reaumur, who at that time considered himself as at the head of natural history. But the credit and reputation of Buffon was sufficient to prevent his friend from falling a victim to the attack of this formidable antagonist.

It gives us a very unfavourable idea of Buffon that after this he should himself commence the enemy of Daubenton. He was, however, weak enough to listen to some parasites, who persuaded him that it would redound greatly to his honour to dismiss his associate; and, accordingly, Buffon actually published a new edition of his Natural History, in 13 volumes, 12mo, in which are omitted not only the anatomy, but even the external characters, of the animals which Daubenton had furnished for the large edition; and as nothing was substituted in their stead, the work exhibits no idea of the form, colour, or distinctive attributes of the animals; so that this small edition cannot supply any data whereby to ascertain the animals to which the author alludes, especially as they are not to be found either in Pliny, or Aristotle, who likewise, as is well known, neglected the descriptive details.

Buffon moreover determined not to avail himself of his aid in the works he had projected on ornithology and mineralogy. Independently of this insult, Daubenton susr tained a loss of 12,000 francs yearly. He might indeed have complained, but it would necessarily have embroiled him with the intendant of the king’s garden, and forced him to resign the superintendance of the cabinet he had formed, and to which he was as much attached as to life; overlooking, therefore, this injurious treatment, he continued to pursue his former occupations. The regret which all naturalists testified when the first part of his Ornithology made its apptarance without being accompanied by those accurate descriptions and anatomical details which they estimated so highly, served, however, to console him. He would still have felt more chagrin if his attachment for the great man who neglected him had not yielded to his self-love when he beheld the first volumes, to which Gueiieau de Montbeliard did not contribute, filled with inaccuracies, and destitute of all those particulars which it was impossible for Butfbn to supply. All this was still more manifest in the supplements the productions of Buffon in his old age; and in which he carried his injustice so far as to employ a common draughtsman, for the part which Daubenton had so well executed in the former volumes. Hence many naturalists have endeavoured to supply this void; and, among others, the celebrated Pallas took Daubenton for a model in his Miscellanies and Zoological Gleanings, as well as in his History of Rodentia; works which must be considered as real supplements to Buffon; and, next to his large work, the best on quadrupeds. It is well known how successfully La Cepede, the illustrious continuator of Buffon, and who was also the friend and colleague of Daubenton, whose loss he equally bewails with ourselves, has united in his works on ichthyology and reptiles a rich and brilliant style with the most scrupulous accuracy of description; and how well he has supplied the province of his two predecessors. Daubenton so far forgot the injurious treatment he had received from Buffon, that he afterwards contributed to several parts of the natural history, although his name does not appear; and there exist proofs that when Buffbn composed his History of Miner-Is, he derived much assistance from the manuscript of his lecturts delivered in the French college. Their intimacy, notwithstanding the interruption from the circumstance before mentioned, was even fully re-established, and continued to be maintained to the death of Buffon. It was not in the power of Daubenton to furnish many Ihemoirs to the academy of sciences during the eighteen years in which the fifteen volumes in quarto of the “History of Quadrupeds” successively appeared; but he afterwards fully compensated for this, by supplying not only the academy, but aisothe medical and agricultural societies, and the national institute, with a. great number of papers, all of which contain, as well as the works he published separately, many interesting facts and original observations. His experiments on agriculture and rural oeconomy were, however, of more service to him afterwards than all the rest of his labours, on account of the reputation among the populace which they had procured him. In 1784 he published “Instructions for Shepherds and Proprietors of Flocks,” and was the means of introducing an improved breed of sheep into France. His experiments on this subject were begun about 1766, and the object of his constant pursuits, in which he was encouraged by successive administrations, and in which he eminently succeeded, was to demonstrate the bad effects of confining sheep in stables during the night, and the utility of allowing them to range at large; to attempt different means of improving their breed; to point out how to determine the different qualities of the wool; to d.scover the mechanism of rumination, and thence to deduce some useful conclusions respecting the temperament of wool -bearing animals, as well as with regard to the mode of rearing and feeding them; to disseminate the produce of his sheep-fold throughout every province; to distribute his rams to all the proprietors of flocks; to manufacture woollen-cloth from his own raw material, with the view of convincing the most prejudiced of its superiority; to form intelligent shepherds in order that they might propagate his method, and to render his instructions intelligible to all classes of agriculturists.

By these labours he had acquired a kind of popularity which proved very useful to him in a dangerous crisis. During the second year of the revolution, when it was left for an ignorant multitude to decide on the fate of the most intelligent and virtuous of men, the venerable octogenarian Daubenton found it necessary, in order to preserve the situation which he had filled with so much credit to himself during a period of fifty years, to solicit from the section of Sans Culottes a certificate of his civisrn. It was then scarcely possible for a professor, or an academician, to obtain one; but some sensible persons who intermingled with the populace in the hope of moderating their fury, presented him under the appellation of the Shepherd; and it was thus the shepherd Daubenton procured the necessary certificate as director of the museum of natural history. This paper is still preserved, and may serve as a curious proof of the degraded state of France at that period.

, a French Jesuit, of some fame, was born at Auxerre October 21, 1648, and aftt-r performing his noviciate, became a member of the society of Jesuits at Nancy in 1683. After preaching with much success for some time, his health obliged him to desist, and he was chosen companion or assistant of the provincial. He was afterwards elected rector of the college of Strasburgh, and promoted to be provincial of Champagne. He would have been advanced to another ecclesiastical government, had not Louis XIV. requested that he might continue in the college of Strasburgh, more effectually to establish some regulations which he had begun when-first appointed rector. In 1700 the king appointed him confessor to Philip V. of Spain, and he remained in high favour with that prince until the courtiers, grown jealous of his power, prevailed upon the king to send him from the court in 1706. He was, however, recalled again in 1716, and being reinstated in his office, gained a still greater ascendancy over the mind of Philip V. This prince, when disgusted with his throne, and wishing to abdicate it, confided his design to Daubenton, who is said to have betrayed the secret to the duke of Orleans, which conduct terminated in his disgrace a second time, but the manner of it is variously represented by historians. He died, however, in 1723. His character is doubtful, some main.aining that he was a man of intrigue, and others that he made no improper use of his talents or influence. His works consist chiefly of funeral orations, and a life of St. Francis Regis, Paris, 1716, 4to, which was translated and published in English, Lond. 1738, 8vo, a work full of absurd miracles. He published likewise a more enlarged account of the merits of this saint, entitled “Scripta varia in causa beatificationis et canonrzationis J. F. Regis,” Rome, 1710 and 1712, 2 vols. folio.

, a learned French protestant divine, was born about 1670, and came to England on the revocation of the edict of Nantz. Of his history we hare only a short memorandum in ms. by Mr. Whiston, who supposes that he died in 1740. He wrote “Pro Testinonio Josephi de Jesn Christo, contra Tan. Fubrum et alios,” Lond. 1700, 8vo; and a “Commentary on the Revelation of St. John,” 1712, folio. This was, in 1730, published by Peter Lancaster, vicar of Bowden in Cheshire, under the title of “A Perpetual Commentary, &c. newly modelled, abridged, and rendered plain to the meanest capacities.” Mr. Daubuz is here said to have been vicar of Brotherton in Cheshire. Mr. Whiston adds that he had a son, a clergyman, also beneficed in Yorkshire, near Ferrybridge, a studious man, who lived in obscurity, and died a bachelor about 1752.

, an. eminent French poet, was born near the head of the Vienne, in the Limousin, about 1507. Removing to the capital of the kingdom to finish his studies, he distinguished himself in such a manner by his skill in Greek, and his talent at poetry, that he became one of the professors of the university of Paris. In 1560 he succeeded John Stracellus in the post of king’s reader and professor of Greek; but before this he had been principal of the college of Coqueret, and tutor to John Antony de Baif, in the house of his father Lazarus de Baif, who was master of the requests. He continued to instruct this young pupil in the college of Coqueret; and he had also the famous Ronsard for his scholar there, during the space of seven years. His highest praise is, that his school produced a great number of able men; but imprudent generosity and want of management reduced him to poverty, and procured him a place in the list of those learned men, whose talents have been of little benefit to themselves. In the reign of Henry II. he had been preceptor to the king’s pages and Charles IX. honoured him with the title of his poet, took great delight in conversing with him, and endeavoured to support him in his old age. It will not now be thought much in his favour that Daurat had an uncommon partiality for anagrams, of which he was the first restorer. It is pretended, that he found the model of them in Lycophron, and brought them so much into vogue, that several illustrious persons gave him their names to anagrammatise. He undertook also to explain the centuries of Nostradamus, and with such imposing plausibility as to be considered in the light of his interpreter or subprophet. When he was near 80, having lost his first wife, he married a young girl; and by her had a son, for whom he shewed his fondness by a thousand ridiculous actions. In excuse for this marriage, he said that he would rather die by a bright sword than a rusty one. He had by his first wife, among other children, a son, who was the author of some French verses, printed in a collection of his own poems; and a daughter, whom he married to a learned man, named Nicolas Goulu, in whose favour he resigned his place of regius professor of Greek. He wrote a great many verses in Latin, Greek, and French, in some of which he attacked the protestants; and no book was printed, nor did any person of consequence die, without his producing some verses on the subject; as if he had been poet in ordinary to the kingdom, or his muse had been a general mourner. The odes, epigrams, hymns, and other poems in Greek and Latin, composed by Daurat, have been estimated at the gross sum of 50,000 verses; Scaliger had such an opinion of him as a critic, that he said he knew none but him and Cujacius, who had abilities sufficient to restore ancient authors; but he has presented the public with no specimen of that talent, except some remarks on the Sybilline verses in Opsopseus’s edition. Scaliger tells us, with some ridicule, however, that he spent the latter part of his life in endeavouring to find all the Bible in Homer. He died at Paris, Nov. 1, 1588, aged Si. His principal collection of verses is entitled “Joannis Aurati, Lemovicis, Poetse et interprets regii, Poematia, hoc est, Poematum libri quinque; Epigrammatum libri tres; Anagrammatum liber unus; Funerum liber unus; Odarum libri duo; Epithalamiorum liber unus; Eclogarum libri duo; Variarum rerum liber unus,” Paris, 1586, 8vo, a very singular collection, although of no great merit as to taste or versification. He deserves more praise as one of the revivers of Greek literature in France, and in that character his memory was honoured, in 1775, hy an eloge, written by the abbe Vitrac, professor of humanity at Limoges.

, a learned critic, especially in the Greek tongue, was born in 1708. A respectable family of the name of Dawes had long been situated at Stapleton, between Market-Bosworth and Hinckley in Leicestershire, and our critic was probably of the same family, but it does not appear, from the register of the parish, that he was born at that place. There was a Dr. Dawes, who, early in the last century, resided at Stapleton, and was a great scholar, and a searcher after the philosopher’s stone. It has been supposed, that he might be father to the subject of the present article; but of this fact no decisive evidence can be produced. All the traditions concerning Richard Dawes are, that the place of his birth was either MarketBosworth, or the vicinity of that town. Whoever his parents were, or whatever was their condition in life, it is probable that they perceived such marks of capacity in their son, as determined them to devote him to a literary profession; and accordingly he was put to the free grammar-school at Bosworth, where he had the happiness of receiving part of his education under the care of Mr. Anthony Blackwall. Here he laid the foundation of that critical knowledge of the Greek language which he afterwards displayed so conspicuously. In 1725, he was admitted a sizar of Emanuel college, in the university of Cambridge, where he proceeded bachelor of arts in 1729. On the 2d of October, 1731, he became a fellow of the college on the nomination of sir Wolston Dixie, bart. In 1733, he took the degree of master of arts. The next year he was a candidate for the place of esquire beadle of the university, but his application was not crowned with success. Whilst Mr. Dawes was at Cambridge, he distinguished himself by some peculiarities of conduct, which probably arose from a mixture of insanity in his constitution; and in his conversation he occasionally took such liberties on certain topics as gave great offence to those about him. Having indulged himself too much, at college, in an indolent sedentary way of life, he, at length, found it absolutely necessary to have recourse to some kind of exercise. In this case, being of a strong athletic frame of body, and not over-delicate in the choice of his company, he took to the practice of ringing; and, as such a genius could not stop at mediocrity, he quickly became the leader of the band, and carried the art to the highest perfection.

Another circumstance, though of a very different nature, by which Mr. Dawes rendered himself remarkable, was his taking a violent part against Dr. Bentley, and even endeavouring to depreciate that great man’s literature. In his “Miscellanea Critica,” on several occasions, he detracts from Dr. Bentley’s praises and did not scruple to assert, that the doctor, “nihil in Graecis cognovisse, nisi ex indicibus petitum,” knew nothing relative to Grecian literature, but what he had drawn from indexes; an assertion which could only proceed from extreme vanity, or personal dislike, or a bigoted attachment to a party. Indeed, the contempt with which writers of distinguished abilities sometimes speak of each other, is a disgrace to the republic of letters; and it is much to be lamented that a spirit so contrary to the dictates of justice and urbanity, should still continue to prevail among men who otherwise deserve to be held in esteem.

On the 10th of July, 1738, Mr. Dawes was appointed master of the free grammar-school in Newcastle-uponTyne, in the room of Mr. Edmund Lodge, who had resigned that office. The commencement of his duty was to take place at the Michaelmas following. In the same year, on the 9th of October, he was preferred, by act of common council, to the mastership of the hospital of the blessed Virgin Mary in Newcastle. The business of Mr. Dawes’s new station did not prevent him from prosecuting his inquiries into the nature, peculiarities, and elegancies of the Greek tongue; and accordingly, in 1745, he published his “Miscellanea Critica.” Mr. Hubbard, of Emanuel college, Cambridge, and Dr. Mason, of Trinity, assisted in the publication. It was Mr. Dawes’s design in this work, to afford such a specimen of his critical abilities, as should enable the learned world to judge what might be expected from him, in an edition which he had projected of all the Attic poets, as well as of Homer and Pindar. Though his scheme was never carried into execution, he has obtained, by his “Miscellanea Critica,” a very high place among those who have contributed to the promotion of Greek learning in England, and, as such, his name will be transmitted with honour to posterity. Accordingly, the book has been spoken of in terms of distinguished applause, by some of the first literary characters in Europe, particularly Valkener, Pierson, Koen, and Reiske. A second edition of it, in octavo, was given in 1781, from the Clarendon press, by the rev. Mr. Burgess, of Corpus Christi college, Oxford, now bishop of St. David’s, who has enriched the work with a learned preface, and a number of notes of great value and importance, and some assistance from Dawes’s Mss. procured by Dr. Farmer and Mr. Salter. Mr. Dawes’s situation at Newcastle was neither so happy nor so useful as might have been expected; in a great measure owing to the eccentricity of his disposition, and, indeed, to his imagination being in some respects disturbed. Hence he fancied that all his friends had slighted him, or used him ill; and of the jealousy of his temper he has left a remarkable instance, on a very trifling occasion. His printer, by an unfortunate mistake, in a passage of Terentianus Maurus, which Mr. Dawes had quoted in order to correct, had inserted a comma that destroyed the merit of the emendation. In consequence of this involuntary error, our author, in the Addenda to his Mis-cellanea, has expressed himself with great indignation, He declares, that he could not conjecture what fault he had committed against the printer, that he should envy him the honour, whatever it was, that was due to his correction; and he adds, that he knows not how it happened, that, for several years past, he had been ill used by those from whom he had deserved better treatment. With the corporation of Newcastle he became involved in altercations, and adopted a singular method of displaying his resentment, or rather his contempt; for in teaching the boys at school, he made them translate the Greek word for ass into alderman; which some of the lads did seriously, though otherwise well instructed. With such a disposition of mind, it is not surprising that his scholars were, at length, reduced to a very small number; so that it became expedient for him to consent to quit his station. Accordingly, at Midsummer, 1749, he resigned the mastership of the grammarschool, and the mastership of St. Mary’s hospital; and, in consideration of these sacrifices, the mayor and burgesses of Newcastle, on the 25th of September following, executed a bond, by which they engaged to grant him an annuity of eighty pounds a-year, during life.

Mr. Dawes, after his resignation of the above two offices, retired to Heworth-shore, about three miles below Newcastle, on the south side of the Tyne, where his favourite amusement was the exercise of rowing in a boat. In his conversation, he preserved, to the last, his splenetic humour; abusing every thing, and every person that he had formerly regarded. He departed this life, at Heworth, on the 21st of March, 17G6, and, agreeably to his own desire, was buried in the church-yard of that place; where a common head-stone, little suited to the just reputation of so eminent a scholar, continues to mark his grave with the words, “In memory of Richard Dawes, late headmaster of the grammar (sic) school at Newcastle; who died the 21st of March, 1766. Aged 57 years.”

, archbishop of York, the youngest son of sir John Dawes, baronet, by Jane his wife, the daughter and only child of Richard Hawkins, of Braintree, in the county of Essex, gent, was born Sept. 12, 1671, at Lyons, (a seat which came by his mother) near Braintree, and received the first rudiments of learning at Merchant-taylors’-school in London, from Mr. John Hartcliffe, and Mr. Ambr. Bonwicke, successively masters of that school; under whose care he made great proficiency in the knowledge of the classics, and was a tolerable master of the Hebrew tongue, even before he was fifteen years of age; which was chiefly owing to the additional care that Dr. Kidder, afterwards bishop of Bath and Wells, took of his education. In act term 1687, he became a scholar of St. John’s college in Oxford, and after his continuance there two years or upwards, was made fellow. But his father’s title and estate descending to him, upon the death of his two brothers, which happened about the same time, he left Oxford, and entering himself a nobleman in Catherine-hall, Cambridge, lived in his eldest brother’s chambers; and, as soon as he was of fit standing, took the degree of master of arts. His intention, from the very first, was to enter into holy orders; and therefore to qualify himself for that purpose, among other introductory works, he seems to have made some of our late eminent divines a considerable branch of his study, even before he was eighteen years of age: and he shewed always a serious and devout temper of mind, and a true sense and love of piety and religion. After he had taken his master of arts’ degree, not being of age to enter into holy orders, he thought it proper to visit the estate he was now become owner of, and to make a short tour into some other parts of the kingdom, which he had not yet seen. But his intended progress was, in some measure, stopped by Ims happening to meet with Frances, the eldest daughter of sir Thomas Darcy, of Braxstead-lodge, in Essex, baronet, a fine and accomplished woman, to whom he paid his addresses, and, not long after, married. As soon as he came to a competent -age, he was ordained deacon and priest by Dr. Compton, bishop of London. Shortly after, he was created doctor in divinity, by a royal mandate, in order to be qualified for the mastership of Catherine-hall; to which he was unanimously elected, in 1696, upon the death of Dr. John Echard. At his coming thither he found the bare case of a new chapel, begun by his predecessor; to the completion of which he contributed very liberally, and, among other beneficial acts to his college, he obtained, through his interest with queen Anne, and her chief ministers, an act of parliament for annexing the first prebend of Norwich which should become vacant, to the mastership of Catherine-hall for ever. Not long after his election, he became vice-chancellor of Cambridge, and discharged that dignity with universal applause. In 1696, he was made one of the chaplains in ordinary to king William; and, shortly after, was presented by his majesty without interest or solicitation, and merely, as the king said, by way of pledge of his future favour, to a prebend of Worcester, in which he was installed August 26, 1698, On the 10th of November 1698, he was collated by archbishop Tenison to the rectory, and, the 19th of December following, to the deanery, of Bocking in Essex, and behaved in that parish in a very charitable and exemplary manner. After queen Anne’s accession to the throne, he was made one of her majesty’s chaplains, and became so great a favourite with her, that he had a reasonable expectation of being advanced to some of the highest dignities in the church. Accordingly, though he happened accidentally to miss of the bishopric of Lincoln , which became vacant in 1705; yet her majesty, of her own accord, named him to the see of Chester, in 1707, upon the death of Dr. Nicholas Stratford: and he was consecrated February 8, 1707-8. In 1713-4, he was, by the recommendation of his worthy predecessor Dr. John Sharp, translated to the archiepiscopal see of York, being elected thereto February 26, and enthroned by proxy the 24th of March following. He continued above ten years in this eminent station, honoured and respected by all. At length a diarrhoea, to which he had been subject several times before, ending in an inflammation of his bowels, put a period to his life April 30, 1724, in the fifty-third year of his age. He was buried in the chapel of Catherine-hall, Cambridge, near his lady, who died December 22, 1705, in the twenty-ninth year of her age. By her he had seven children, William, Francis, William, Thomas, who all died young; and Elizabeth, Jane, and Darcy, who survived him. In person he was tall, proportionable, and beautiful. There was in his look and gesture something easier to be conceived than described, that gained every one’s favour, even before he spoke. His behaviour was easy and courteous to all; his civility free from formality; his conversation lively and cheerful, but without any tincture of levity. He had a genius well fitted for a scholar, a lively imagination, a strong memory, and a sound judgment. He was a kind and loving husband, a tender and indulgent parent, and so extraordinary good a master, that he never was observed to be in a passion; and took care of the spiritual as well as the temporal welfare of his domestics. In his episcopal capacity, he visited his large diocese with great diligence and constancy, Nottinghamshire one year, and Yorkshire another; but every third year he did not hold any visitation. He performed all the offices of his function with becoming seriousness and gravity. He took great care and caution, to admit none but sufficient labourers into the Lord’s harvest; and when admitted, to appoint them stipends adequate to their labour. He administered justice to all with an equal and impartial hand; being no respecter of persons, and making no difference between the poor and rich, but espousing all into the intimacy of his bosom, his care, his affability, his provision, and his prayers.

So strict an observer was he of his word, that no consideration whatever could make him break it; and so inviolable in his friendship, that without the discovery of some essential fault indeed, he never departed from it. A great point of conscience it was with him, that his promises should not create fruitless expectances; but when, upon proper considerations, he was induced to do it, he always thought himself bound to employ his utmost interest to have the thing effected; and till a convenient opportunity should present itself, was not unmindful to support the petitioner (if in mean circumstances) at his own expence: for charity indeed was his predominant quality. Both as a bishop and peer of the realm, he considered himself as responsible for the souls committed to his charge in one respect, and as intrusted with the lives and fortunes of his fellow subjects, in the other. If in some parliamentary debates (in which he made a very considerable figure), he happened to dissent from other great men, who might have the same common good in view, but seemed to pursue it in a method incongruous to his sentiments, this ought to be accounted his honour, and a proof of his integrity, but cannot, with any colour of justice, be deemed party prejudice, or a spirit of contradiction in him; because those very men, whom he sometimes opposed, at other times he joined himself to, whenever he perceived them in the right. He associated himself with no party, it being his opinion, that whoever enters the senate house, should always carry his conscience along with him; that the honour of God, the renown of his prince, and the good of his fellow subjects, should be, as it were, the polar-star to guide him; that no multitude, though never so numerous; no faction, though never so powerful; no arguments, though never so specious; no threats, though never so frightful; no offers, though never so advantageous and alluring; should blind his eyes, or pervert him to give any the least vote, not directly answerable to the sentiments of his own breast. After his death appeared “The whole Works of sir William Dawes, bart.” &c. 3 vols. 8vo, with a preface and life, 1733, including those published by himself, viz.

, a very eminent English printer in the sixteenth century, was born in St. Peter’s parish, Dunwich, in Suffolk, and is supposed to have descended from a good family in that county. From whom he learned the art of printing, is not clear, unless perhaps Gibson, one of whose devices Day frequently used. He first began printing about 1544, a little above Holborn Conduit, and at that time was in conjunction with William Seres. In 1549 he removed into Aldersgate-street, near St. Anne’s church, where he built a printing-office, but kept shops in various parts of the town, where his books were sold. It would appear that he forbore printing during the reign of queen Mary, yet continued improving himself in the art, as was evident by his subsequent publications. He was the first in England who printed the Saxon letter, and brought that of Greek to great perfection, as well as the Italic and other characters, of which he had great variety. Archbishop Parker, who frequently employed him, considered him as excelling his brethren in skill and industry. He was the first person admitted into the livery of the Stationers’ company, after they obtained their charter from Philip and Mary, was chosen warden in 1564, 1566, 1571, and 1575, and master in 1580. In 1583 he yielded up to the disposal of the company, for the relief of their poor, his right to certain books and copies. He died July 23, 1584, after having followed the business of a printer with great reputation and success for forty years, and was buried in the parish church of Bradley Parva, in the county of Suffolk, with a monument on which are inlaid the effigies of him, his wife, and family, and some lines, cut in the old English letter, intimating his services in the cause of the reformation by his various publications, especially of Fox’s Acts and Monuments; and that he had two wives, and numerous children by both. Besides Fox, he printed several valuable editions of the Bible, of the works of the martyrs, of Ascham, and other then accounted standard authors.

, a poetical and miscellaneous writer, of an eccentric character, was born in Wellclose-square, London, June 22, 1748. His father was an officer in the custom-house, and had been twice married. This son was the issue of his second marriage to Miss Jane Bonham, the only daughter of Samuel Bonham, esq. a merchant in the city. His father died when he was little more than a year old, leaving him a fortune of 1200l. a year, including 300l. as a jointure to his mother, who in a few years married Thomas Phillips, esq. another officer in the customhouse. To this gentleman, who died in 1782, young Day behaved with decent respect, but felt no great attachment. His mother, however, chiefly superintended his education, and accustomed him early, we are told, to bodily exertions, on which he afterwards set so high a value. He was first put to a child’s school at Stoke Newington, and when admissible, was sent to the Charter-house, where he resided in the house and under the instructions of Dr. Crusius, until his sixteenth year. He now entered as a gentleman commoner of Corpus college, Oxford, where he remained three years, but left it without taking a degree.

As soon as he came of age, his property and conduct devolved upon himself. At an early period of life, we are told, he manifested a particular fondness for scrutinizing the human character; and, as if such knowledge could not be acquired at home, he took a journey in 17G6 from Oxford to Wales, that he might contemplate that class of men who, “as still treading the unimproved paths of nature, might be presumed to have the qualities of the mind pure and unsophisticated by art.” What of this description he found in Wales we are not informed; but in pursuit of the same investigation of men and manners, he determined, on coming of age, to go abroad; and accordingly he spent one winter at Paris, another at Avignon, and a third at Lyons, a summer in the Austrian Netherlands, and another in Holland. At Lyons, as every where else, he was distinguished by his humanity and generosity, which made his departure from those places be sincerely regretted, and at Lyons produced an effect singularly characteristic of the class of people on whom he bestowed his bounty. A large body of them assembled at his departure, and very justly considering that they would now be in a worse condition than if he had never relieved them, requested that he would leave a sum of money behind for their future wants. It is probable that these returns to his imprudent liberality had a considerable share in producing the misanthropy which appeared in his future conduct.

From a comparison of dates it appears to have been in 1769, when he came of age, that he formed this curious project. Accompanied by a Mr. Bicknell, a barrister, rather older than himself, he went to Shrewsbury to explore the Foundling hospital, and from these children, Mr. Day, in the presence of Mr. Bicknell, selected two girls of twelve years each; both beautiful: one fair, with flaxen locks and light eyes, whom he called Lucretia; the other, a clear auburn brunette, with darker eyes, more glowing bloom, and chesnut tresses, he called Sabrina. These girls were obtained on written conditions, for the performance of which Mr. Bicknell was guarantee. They were to this effect: that Mr. Day should, within the twelvemonth after taking them, resign one into the protection of some respectable tradeswoman, giving one hundred pounds to bind her apprentice; maintaining her, if she behaved well, till she married, or began business for herself. Upon either of these events he promised to advance four hundred pounds more. He avowed his intention of educating the girl he should retain, with a view to make her his future wife: solemnly engaged never to violate her innocence; and if he should renounce his plan, to maintain her decently in some creditable family till she married, when he promised five hundred pounds as her wedding portion. It would, probably, be quite unnecessary to make any appeal to the feelings of parents, or to offer any remarks on the conduct of the governors of this hospital respecting this strange bargain, for the particulars of which we are indebted to Miss Seward. The narrative goes on to inform us, that Mr. Day went instantly into France with these girls, not taking an English servant, that they might receive no ideas, except those which himself might chuse to impart, and which he soon found were not very acceptable. His pupils teazed and perplexed him; they quarrelled; they sickened of the small pox; they chained him to their bed-side, by crying if they were ever left alone with any person who could not speak English. Hence he was obliged to sit up with them many nights, and to perform for them the lowest offices of assistance. They lost no beauty, however, by their disease, and came back with Mr. Day in eight months, when Sabrina was become the favourite. He placed Lucretia with a chamber milliner, and she afterwards became the wife of a linendraper in London. With Sabrina he actually proceeded during some years, in the execution of his favourite project; but none of his experiments had the success he wished. Her spirit could not be armed against the dread of pain and the appearance of danger, a species of courage which, with him, was a sine qua non in the character of a wife. When he dropped melted sealing-wax upon her arms, she did not endure it heroically; nor when he fired pistols at her petticoats, which she believed to be charged with balls, could she help starting aside, or suppress her screams. When he tried her fidelity in secret-keeping, by telling her of well-invented dangers to himself, in which greater danger would result from its being discovered that he was aware of them, he once or twice detected her having imparted them to the servants, and to her play-fellows. He persisted, however, in these foolish experiments, and sustained their continual disappointment during a whole year’s residence in the vicinity of Lichfield. The difficulty seemed to be in giving her motive to self-exertion, self-denial, and heroism. It was against his plan to draw it from the usual sources, pecuniary reward, luxury, ambition, or vanity. His watchful cares had precluded all knowledge of the value of money, the reputation of beauty, and its concomitant desire of ornamented dress. The only inducement, therefore, which this girl could have to combat and subdue the natural preference in youth of ease to pain, and of vacant sport to the labour of thinking, was the desire of pleasing her protector, though she knew not how, or why he became such; and in that desire fear had greatly the ascendant of affection. At length, however, he renounced all hopes of moulding Sabrina into the being which his disordered imagination had formed; and, ceasing now to behold her as a wife, placed her at a boardingschool at Sutton Coldfield, Warwickshire, where, durin^ three years, she gained the esteem of her instructress, grew feminine, elegant, and amiable. She is still living, an ornament to the situation in which she is placed.

The whole of their residence at Anningsley, however, was not passed in inflicting or tolerating caprice. Some of Mr. Day’s experiments were of a more praiseworthy kind. His neighbours of the lowest class, being as rough and as wild as the commons on which they dwelt, he tried if by mutual attrition he could not polish both and, though the event fell short of his expectation, he was not wholly unsuccessful. Many of the peasants he took to work on, his farm, and in his selection of them it was always his object to accommodate those who could not find employmerit elsewhere, until they could meet with some fresh job. But so fond were they of their new master, that they wanted frequently to be reminded that their stay was only intended to be temporary. During the winter season they were so numerous, that it was scarcely in the power of a farm of more than two hundred acres, of a family on the spot, and of the contiguous neighbourhood, to raise for them a shadow of employment from day to day. Mr. Day, whenever he walked out, usually conversed with them in the fields, and questioned them concerning their families. To most of them, in their turn, he sent blankets, corn, and butchers meat. He gave advice and medicines to the sick, and occasionally brought them into his kitchen to have their meals for a few weeks among the servants. Once or twice he took them into his service in the house, on the sole account of their bad health, a circumstance which by many persons would have been deemed an ample cause for dismission. When the cases of sickness which came before him were difficult and critical, he frequently applied to London for regular advice; but good diet was often found more salutary than all the materia medica. Mrs. Day aided the benevolent exertions of her husband by employing the neighbouring poor in knitting stockings, which were occasionally distributed amongst the labourers. Mr. Day’s modes and habits of life were such as the monotony of a rural retirement naturally brings upon a man of ingenuity and literary taste. To his farm he gave a personal attention, from the fondness which he had for agriculture, and from its being a source to him of health and amusement. It was an additional pleasure to him, that hence was derived employment for the poor. He had so high an opinion of the salutary effects of taking exercise on horseback, that he erected a riding-house for the purpose of using that exercise in the roughest weather. Though he commonly resided in the country during the whole of the winter season, and was fond of shooting as an art, he for many years totally abstained from field sports, apprehending them to be cruel; but, at last, from, the same motive of humanity, he resumed the gun. He rose about eight, and walked out into his grounds soon after breakfast. But much of the morning, and still more of the afternoon, were usually passed at his studies, or in literary conversations when he was visited by his friends.

At length, Mr. Day, who suffered no species of controul to interfere with whatever he fancied, or undertook, fell a victim to a part of his own system. He thought highly of the gratitude, generosity, and sensibility of horses; and that whenever they were disobedient, unruly, or vicious, it was owing to previous ill usage from men. Upon. his own plan therefore he reared, ted, and tamed a favourite foal, and when it was time it should become serviceable, disdaining to employ a horse-breaker, he would use it to the bit and the burthen himself. The animal, however, disliking his new situation, heeded not the soothing voice to which he had been accustomed, but plunged, threw his master, and instantly killed him with a kick. This melancholy accident happened on Sept. 28, 1789, as he was returning from Anningsley to his mother’s house at Bare-hill, where he had left Mrs. Day. He was interred at Wargrave, in Berkshire, in a vault which had been built for the family.

, a jurist, who, according to Tiraboschi, attained greater fame during his life than abler men after their death, was born in 1453 at Milan, and is said to have been the natural son of one of the dukes of Milan, but this seems doubtful. He studied law at Pavia under his brother Lancelot, who was professor in that university, and on his removal to Pisa, Philip accompanied him, and continued his studies under Barth, Socinus, Philip Corneus, and others. In 1476 he received his doctor’s degree> and soon after was appointed one of the university profc ssors, in which he distinguished himself by his art in disputing, which he appears to have practised with so little respect for his seniors as to create him many enemies, and render his life a life of contest with his brethren. In the mean time his popularity was augmented by the respect paid to him by kings and popes, of all which he was in full enjoyment, when he died at Sienna in 1536. Of his works, none of which appear to have perpetuated his fame, the most considerable are his “Consilia,” Venice, 1581, 2 vols, fol.; and “De regulis juris,” ibid. fol.

, a dramatic writer of very little value, flourished in the reign of James I. The exact periods of his birth and decease are not ascertained; but he could not have died young, as his earliest play bears date 1600, and his latest 1637. Mr. Oldys thinks that he was living in 1638, and that he was in the King’s-bench prison from 1613 to 1616, or longer. It is supposed he had acquired reputation even in the time of queen Elizabeth, whose decease and funeral he commemorates in his “Wonderful Year,” 1603. He was contemporary with Ben Jonson, with whom he quarrelled. Of this we have usually bad the following account: that “Jonson, who certainly could never ‘bear a rival near the throne,’ has, in his ‘ Poetaster,’ the Dnnciad of that author, among many Other poets whom he has satirised, been peculiarly severe on Decker, whom he has characterised under the name of Crispinus. This compliment Decker has amply repaid in his ‘ Satyromastix, or the untrussing a humourous Poet,’ in which, under the title of young Horace, he has made Ben the hero of his piece.” The provocation, however, on the part of Jonson is completely overthrown by Mr. Gilchrist, whose accurate research has established the fact that the Crispinus of Jonson was not Decker, but Marston. In the Biog. Dramatics, is a long list of forgotten plays by Decker; and his “Gull’s Hornbook,” a scarce little tract by him, was elegantly and curiously reprinted in 1813.

, vicar of St. Alkmond’s parish, Shrewsbury, was a native of Ireland, and descended from a very ancient and respectable family in that country, being distantly related to the family of lord Kinsale, to whom he was ordained chaplain. He was educated at Trinity college, Dublin; and his acquaintance with several eminent clergymen brought him to England. In 1770 he accepted the curacy of Shawbury in Shropshire, of which the rev, Mr. Stillingfleet was rector. In January, 1774, he was presented by the lord chancellor to the vicarage of St. Alkmond, which was the subject of a satirical poem, entitled “St. Alkmond’s Ghost,” by an inhabitant of the parish. This was owing to a prejudice conceived against him, as being a methodist, which, however, he soon overcame by his general conduct and talents. To a fund of information derived from reading and reflection, he added a degree of sprightliness and humour, which always rendered his conversation agreeable on every subject. la principle, he was warmly attached to the doctrines of our excellent church, as set forth in her articles and homilies. In the pulpit he was a laborious servant, preaching generally twice, and for some time before his death, three times, every Sunday, and a lecture on Wednesday evening, besides reading the regular service. His sermons were extempore, but in language dignified, in reasoning perspicuous, embellished by apposite allusions, and ornamented with many of the graces of oratory, and he never appealed to the passions of his auditors, but through the medium of the understanding. To the dogmas of Socinus he was an able and unwearied adversary, both from the pulpit and the press, as may be seen by referring to his “Christ Crucified,” 2 vols. 12mo. He was particularly attached to our venerable constitution, and when those pernicious doctrines were broached, which, under the delusive and fascinating title of “Rights of Man,” hurled the monarch of France from his throne, and threatened to involve this country in the same dreadful scenes of ruin and devastation, he strenuously defended the cause of religion and social order. His natural constitution was good, and supported him under many painful fits of rheumatic gout, which weakened his knees so much, as to render it necessary sometimes to sit in the pulpit. Among many temporal losses, none seemed to affect him so much as the death of his youngest son in August, 1803, after serving some time as midshipman under his relation the hon. capt. De Courcy. In the close of his last sermon from Revelation, chap. vi. v. 2. on the evening of the fast day, an allusion to the memory of those whom “we had resigned into the rcy arms of Death,” so far affected him, as to cause an involuntary flow of tears, and obliged him abruptly to conclude. A slight cold taken on that day brought on a return of his disorder, from which he gradually recovered, until a few hours before his death, when a sudden attack in his stomach rendered medical aid useless. Having commended his soul into the hands of his Redeemer, he sunk back, and expired, Nov. 4, 1803. His memory will be long esteemed by his parishioners, and many others who attended his ministry, during a period of thirty years. His remains were interred at Shawbury, on the 9th, and on that occasion a great number of his friends voluntarily joined the funeral procession, and rendered to his memory their last tribute of respect and gratitude. His published works are “Jehu’s Eye-glass on True and False Zeal;” “Nathan’s Message to David, a Sermon;” two Fast Sermons, 1776; “A Letter to a Baptist Minister;” “A Reply to Parmenas,” 1776 “The Rejoinder,” on Baptism, 1777; “Hints respecting the Utility of some Parochial Plan for suppressing the Profanation of the Lord’s Day,” 1777; two Fast Sermons, 1778; “Seduction, or the Cause of injured Innocence pleaded, a Poem,” 1782; “The Seducer convicted on his own Evidence,” 1783; “Christ Crucified,” 1791, 2 vols.; and a Sermon preached at Hawkstone chapel, at the presentation of the standard to the two troops of North Shropshire yeomanry cavalry, in 1798. In 1810, a volume of his “Sermons” was published, with a biographical preface and portrait.

Disturbed with these reports, he left England again in 1548, and went to the university of Louvain; where he distinguished himself so much, that he was visited by the duke of Mantua, by don Lewis de la Cerda, afterwards duke of Medina, and other persons of great rank. While he remained there, sir William Pickering, who was afterwards a great favourite with queen Elizabeth, was his pupil; and in this university it is probable, although not certain, that he had the degree of LL. D. conferred upon him. July 1550 he went from thence to Paris, where, in the college of Uheims, he read lectures upon Euclid’s Elements with uncommon applause; and very great offers were made him, if he would accept of a professorship in that university. In 1551 he returned to England, was well received by sir John Cheke, introduced to secretary Cecil, and even to king Edward himself, from whom he received a pension of 100 crowns a year, which was in 1553 exchanged for a grant of the rectories of Upton upon Severn, and Long Lednam in Lincolnshire. In the reign of queen Mary, he was for some time very kindly treated; but afterwards came into great trouble, and even danger of his life. At the very entrance of it, Dee entered into a correspondence with several of the lady Elizabeth’s principal servants, while she was at Woodstock and at Milton; which being observed, and the nature of it not known, two informers charged him with practising against the queen’s life by inchantments. Upon this he was seized and confined; but being, after several trials, discharged of treason, he was turned over to bishop Bonner, to see if any heresy could be found in him. After a tedious persecution, August 19, 1555, he was, by an order of council, set at liberty; and thought his credit so little hurt by what had happened, that Jan. 15, 1556, he presented “A supplication to queen Mary, for the recovery and preservation of ancient writers and monuments.” The design was certainly good, and would have been attended with good consequences, if it had taken effect; its failure cannot be too deeply regretted, as there was then an opportunity of recovering many of the contents of the monastic libraries dispersed in Edward’s time. Dee also appears to have had both the zeal and knowledge for this undertaking. The original of his supplication, which has often been printed, is still extant in the Cotton library; and we learn from it, that Cicero’s famous work, “De Republica,” was once extant in this kingdom, and perished at Canterbury.

Upon the accession of queen Elizabeth, at the desire of lord Robert Dudley, afterwards earl of Leicester, he delivered somewhat upon the principles of the ancient astrologers, about the choice of a fit day for the coronation of the queen, from whom he received many promises; nevertheless, his credit at court was not sufficient to overcome the public odium against him, on the score of magical incantations, which was the true cause of his missing several preferments. He was by this time become an author; but, as we are told, a little unluckily; for his books were such as scarce any pretended to understand, written upon mysterious subjects in a very mysterious manner. In the spring of 1564 he went abroad again, to present the book which he dedicated to the then emperor Maximilian, and returned to England the same summer. In 1563, he engaged the earl of Pembroke to present the queen with his “Propaedurnata Aphoristica” and two years after, sir Henry Billingsley’s translation of Euclid appeared, with Dee’s preface and notes; which did him more honour than, all his performances, as furnishing incontestable proofs of a more than ordinary skill in the mathematics. In 1571, we find him in Lorrain; where falling dangerously sick, the queen was pleased to send him two physicians. After his return to England, he settled himself in his house at Mortlake; where he prosecuted his studies with great diligence, and collected a noble library, consisting of 4000 volumes, of which above a fourth part were Mss. a great number of mechanical and mathematical instruments, a collection of seals, and many other curiosities. His books only were valued at 2000l. It was upon his leaving the kingdom in 1583, that the populace, who always believed him to be one who dealt with the devil, broke into his house at Mortlake; where they tore and destroyed many things, and dispersed the rest in such a manner, that the greatest part of them were irrecoverable.

We come now to that period of his life, by which he has been most known, though for reasons which have justly rendered him least regarded. He was certainly a man of uncommon parts, learning, and application; and might have distinguished himself in the scientific world if he had been possessed of solid judgment; but he was very credulous, superstitious, extremely vain, and, we suspect, a little roguish; but we are told that it was his ambition to surpass all men in knowledge, which carried him at length to a desire of knowing beyond the bounds of human faculties. In short, he suffered himself to be deluded into an opinion, that by certain invocations an intercourse or communication with spirits might be obtained; from whence he promised himself an insight into the occult sciences. He found a young man, one Edward Kelly, a native of Worcestershire, who was already either rogue or fool enough for his purpose, and readily undertook to assist him, for which he was to pay him 50l. per annum. Dec. 2, 1581, they began their incantations; in consequence of which, Kelly was, by the inspection of a certain table, consecrated for that purpose with many superstitious ceremonies, enabled to acquaint Dee with what the spirits thought fit to shew and discover. These conferences were continued for about two years, and the subjects of them were committed to writing, but never published, though still preserved in Ashmole’s museum. In the mean time, there came over hither a Polish lord, one Albert Laski, palatine of Siradia, a man of great parts and learning; and, as a late writer observes, of large fortune too, or he would not have answered their purpose. This nobleman was introduced by the earl of Leicester to Dee, and became his constant visitant. Having: himself a bias to those superstitious arts, he was, after much intreaty, received by Dee into their company, and into a participation of their secrets. Within a short time, the palatine of Siradia, returning to his own country, prevailed with Dee and Kelly to accompany him, upon the assurance of an ample provision there; and accordingly they went all privately from Mortlake, in order to embark for Holland; from whence they travelled by land through Germany into Poland, where, Feb. 3, 1584, they arrived at the principal castle belonging to Albert Laski. When Laski had been sufficiently amused with their fanatical pretences to a conversation with spirits, and was probably satisfied that they were impostors, he contrived to send them to the emperor Rodolph II. who, being quickly disgusted with their impertinence, declined all farther interviews. Upon this Dee applied himself to Laski, to introduce him to Stephen king of Poland; which accordingly he did at Cracow, April 1585. But that prince soon detecting his delusions, and treating him with contempt, he returned to the emperor’s court at Prague; from whose dominions he was soon banished at the instigation of the pope’s nuncio, who gave the emperor to understand, how scandalous it appeared to the Christian world, that he should entertain two such magicians as Dee and Kelly. At this time, and while these confederates were reduced to the greatest distress, a young nobleman of great power and fortune in Bohemia, and one of their pupils, gave them shelter in the castle of Trebona; where they not only remained in safety, but lived in splendour, Kelly having in his possession, as is reported, that philosophical powder of projection, by which they were furnished with money very profusely. Some jealousies and heart-burnings afterwards happened between Dee and Kelly, that brought on at length an absolute rupture. Kelly, however, who was a younger man than Dee, seems to have acted a much wiser part; since it appears, from an entry in Dee’s diary, that he was so far intimidated as to deliver up to Kelly, Jan. 1589, the powder, about which it is said he had learned from the German chemists many secrets which he had not communicated to Dee.

The noise their adventures made in Europe induced queen Elizabeth to invite Dee home, who, in May 1689, set out from Trebona towards England. He travelled with great pomp and solemnity, was attended by a guard of horse; and, besides waggons for his goods, had uo less than three coaches for the use of his family; for he had married a second wife, and had several children. He landed at Gravesend Nov. 23; and, Dec. 9, presented himself at Richmond to the queen, who received him very graciously. He then retired to his house at Mortlake; and collecting the remains of his library, which had been torn to pieces and scattered in his absence, he sat down to study. He had great friends; received many presents; yet nothing, it seems, could keep him from want. The queen had quickly notice of this, as well as of the vexations he suffered from the common people, who persecuted him as a conjuror, which at that time was not a title equivalent to an impostor. The queen, who certainly listened oftener to him than might have been expected from her good sense, sent him money from time to time: but all would not do. At length he resolved to apply in such a manner as to procure some settled subsistence; and accordingly, Nov. 9, 1592, he sent a memorial to her majesty by the countess of -Warwick, in which he very earnestly pressed her, that commissioners might be appointed to hear his pretensions, and to examine into the justness of his wants and claims. This had a good effect; for, on the 22d, two commissioners, sir Thomas Gorge, knt. and Mr. Secretary Wolley, were actually sent to Mortlake, where Dee exhibited a book, containing a distinct account of all the memorable transactions of his life, those which occurred in his last journey abroad only excepted; and, as he read this historical narration, he produced all the letters, grants, and other evidences requisite to confirm them, and where these were wanting, named living witnesses. The title of this work, the original of which still remains in the Cotton library, and a transcript of it among Dr. Smith’s written collections, runs thus: “The compendious rehearsal of John Dee, his dutiful declaration and proof of the course and race of his studious life for the space of half an hundred years now by God’s favour and help fully spent, and of the very great injuries, damages, and indignities which for these last nine years he hath in England sustained, contrary to her majesty’s very gracious will and express commandment, made unto the two honourable commissioners by her most excellent majesty thereto assigned, according to the intent of the most humble supplication of the said John, exhibited to her most gracious majesty at Hampton-court, ann. 1592, Nov. 9.” Upon the report made by the commissioners to the queen, he received a present, and promises of preferment; but these promises ending like the former in nothing, he engaged his patroness, the countess of Warwick, to present another short Latin petition to the queen, but with what success does not appear. In Dec. 1594, however, he obtained a grant to the chancellorship of St. Paul’s. But this did not answer his end: upon which he applied himself next to Whitgift, archbishop of Canterbury, by a letter, in which he inserted a large account of all the books he had either published or written: and in consequence of this letter, together with other applications, he obtained a grant of the vvardenshipof Manchester-college. Feb. 15D6, he arrived with his wife and family in that town, and was installed in his new charge. He continued there about seven years; which he is said to have spent in a troublesome and unquiet manner. June 1604, he presented a petition to king James, earnestly desiring him that he might be brought to a trial; that, by a formal and judicial sentence, he might be delivered from those suspicions and surmises which had created him so much uneasiness for upwards of fifty years. But the king, although he at first patronized him, being better informed of the nature of his studies, refused him any mark of royal countenance and favour; which must have greatly affected a man of that vain and ambitious spirit, which all his misfortunes could never alter or amend. November the same year he quitted Manchester with his family, in order to return to his house at Mortlake; where he remained but a short time, being now very old, infirm, and destitute of friends and patrons, who had generally forsaken him. We find him at Mortlake in 1607; where he had recourse to his former invocations, and so came to deal again, as he fancied, with spirits. One Hickman served him now, as Kelly had done formerly. Their transactions were continued to Sept. 7, 1607, which is the last date in that journal published by Casaubon, whose title at large runs thus: “A true and faithful relation of what passed for many years between Dr. John Dee, a mathematician of great fame in queen Elizabeth and king James their reigns, and some spirits, tending, had it succeeded, to a general alteration of most states and kingdoms in the world. His private conferences with Rudolph emperor of Germany, Stephen. king of Poland, and divers other princes, about it. The particulars of his cause, as it was agitated in the emperor’s court by the pope’s intervention. His banishment and restoration in part; as also the letters of sundry great men and princes, some whereof were present at some of these conferences, and apparitions of spirits to the said Dr. Dee, out of the original copy written with Dr. Dee’s own hand, kept in the library of sir Thomas Cotton, knt. baronet. With a preface confirming the reality, as to the point of spirits, of this relation, and shewing the several good uses that a sober Christian may make of all. By Meric Casaubon, D. D. Lond. 1659,” fol.

This book made a great noise upon its first publication; and many years after, the credit of it was revived by one of the ablest mathematicians and philosophers of his time, the celebrated Dr. Hooke; who believed, that not only Casaubon, but archbishop Usher, and other learned men, were entirely mistaken in their notions about this book; and that, in reality, our author Dee never fell under any such delusions, but being a man of great art and intrigue, made use of this strange method of writing to conceal things of a political nature, and, instead of a pretended enthusiast, was a real spy. But there are several reasons which will not suffer us to suppose this. One is, that Dee began these actions in England; for which, if we suppose the whole treatise to be written in cypher, there is no account can be given, any more than for pursuing the same practices in king James’s time, who cannot be imagined to have used him as a spy. Another, that he admitted foreigners, such as Laski, Rosenberg, &c. to be present at these consultations with spirits; which is not reconcileable with the notion of his being intrusted with political secrets. Lastly, upon the return of Dee from Bohemia, Kelly did actually send an account to the queen of practices against her life; but then this was in a plain and open method, which would never have been taken, if there had been any such mysterious correspondence between Dee and her ministers, as Hooke suggests. In the latter end of his life he became miserably poor. It is highly probable that he remained under these delusions to his death; for he was actually providing for a new journey into Germany, when, worn out by age and distempers, he died in 1608, aged eighty, and was buried at Mortlake. He left behind him a numerous posterity both male and female, and among these his eldest son Arthur, who is mentioned in our next article.

, or Doering, an ingenious but unfortunate physician, was a native of Saxony, who took his degrees in physic at Leyden, and came to England, according to Mr. Martyn, in the train of a foreign ambassador; but another account pays, that soon after he came to London he was appointed secretary to the British ambassador at the Russian court. Both accounts may probably be true. Dr. Pulteney thinks he settled in London about 1720, where he practised physic and midwifery, and having a strong bias to the study of botany, became one of the members of the society established by Dr. Dillenius and Mr. Martyn, which subsisted from 17*1 to 1726. In 1736 he removed to Nottingham, tinder the recommendation of sir Hans Sloane, and was at first well received, and very successful in his treatment of the smallpox, which disease was highly epidemical at that place soon after his arrival; but he incurred the censure of the faculty by his pretensions to a nostrum. In 1737 he published “An Account of an improved method of treating the Small-pox, in a letter to sir Thomas Parkyns, bart.” 8vo. By this it appears, that his medicine was of the antiphlogistic kind, and that he was one of the first who introduced the cool regimen.

, a voluminous and very ingenious political and miscellaneous writer, was born in London about 1663. He was the son of James Foe, citizen and butcher, of the parish of St. Giles’s, Cripplegate: and his grandfather was Daniel Foe, of Elton, in Northamptonshire, yeoman. How he came by the name of De Foe we are not informed; but his enemies have asserted, that he assumed the De to avoid being thought an Englishman. It certainly appeared, from the books of the chamberlain of London (which were some time ago destroyed by a fire at Guildhall) that our author was admitted, by the name of Daniel Foe, to the freedom of the ciiy by birth, Jan. 26, 1687-8. The family of De Foe were protestant dissenters, and Daniel, who had received his education at a dissenting academy at Newington Green, near London, was a dissenter upon principle and reflection. From his various writings, says his biographer, it is plain that he was a zealous defender of the principles of the dissenters, and a strenuous supporter of their politics, before the liberality of our rulers had freed this conduct from danger. He merits the praise which is due to sincerity in manner of thinking, and to uniformity in habits of acting, whatever obloquy may have been cast on his name, by attributing writings to him, which, as they belonged to others, he was studious to disavow.

De Foe commenced author before he was twenty-one. His first publication, in 1633, was a “Treatise against the Turks;” which was written against a sentiment very prevalent, at that time, in favour of the Ottomans, as opposed to the house of Austria. He was a man who would fight as well as write; and, before he was three-and-twenty, in June 1685, he appeared in arms for the duke of Monmouth. Of this exploit he boasted in the latter part of his life, when it was no longer dangerous to avow his participation in that imprudent enterprise. To escape from the dangers of battle was not wonderful; but how he avoided the sanguinary rage of Jefferies has not been accounted for. It is certain, that his zeal was too ardent to be inactive. In a tract against the proclamation for the repeal of the penal laws in 1687, he very efficaciously opposed the unconstitutional measures pursued by king James II.; warning the dissenters against the secret dangers of the insidious toleration with which that infatuated monarch attempted to deceive them. But neither this tract, nor that against the Turks, did he think proper to re-publish in the subsequent collection of his writings.

While our author thus courted notice, he is said to have acted as a hosier in Freeman’s-court, Cornhill; but with the usual imprudence of superior genius, he was carried by his vivacity into companies who were gratified by his wit. He spent those hours with a society for the cultivation of polite learning which he ought to have employed in the calculations of the counting-house; and being obliged to abscond from his creditors in 1692, he attributed those misfortunes to the war, which were probably owing to his own misconduct. An angry creditor took out a commission of bankruptcy, which was superseded on the petition of those to whom he was most indebted, who accepted a composition on his single bond. This he punctually paid, by the efforts of unwearied diligence. But some of those creditors, who had been thus satisfied, falling afterward into distress themselves, De Foe voluntarily paid them their whole claims; being then in rising circumstances from king William’s favour. This is an example of integrity, which it would be unjust to conceal. Being reproached, in 1705, by lord Haversham, with mercenariness, our author feelingly observes, how, with a numerous family, and no helps but his own industry, he had forced his way with undiminished diligence, through a sea of misfortunes, and reduced his debts, exclusive of composition, from seventeen thousand to less than five thousand pounds. He had been concerned Jn some pantile works near Tilbury-fort, and these he continued to carry on, though probably with no great success. While he was yet under thirty years of age, and had mortified no great man by his satire, nor offended any party by his pamphlets, he had acquired friends by his powers of pleasing, who did not, with the usual instability of friendship, desert him in his distresses. They offered to settle him as a factor at Cadiz, where, as a trader, he had some previous correspondence. But as he assures us in his old age, “Providence, which had other work for him to do, placed a secret aversion in his mind to quitting England.” He was prompted by a vigorous mind to think of a variety of schemes for the benefit of his country; and in January 1697, he published his “Essay upon Projects.” In this, among other projects which shew an extensive range of knowledge, he suggests to king William the imitation of Louis XIV, in the establishment of a society for encouraging polite learning, refining the English language, and preventing barbarisms of manners. Prior and Swift afterwards recommended the same, as far as regards language. In 1695, De Foe was appointed accomptant to the commissioners for managing the duties on glass; but he lost, this place in 1699, when the tax was suppressed by act of parliament.

In 1701 appeared the first effort of his satirical muse, “The True-born Englishman,” a vindication of king William, who had been insulted by Tutchen, in a poem entitled “The Foreigners.” The sale of De Foe’s poem was prodigious, and he was amply rewarded, being admitted to personal interviews with the king, who certainly was no reader of poetry. After the piece of Ryswick, he published “An argument to prove that a standing army, with consent of parliament, is not inconsistent with a free government,” and on this interesting topic displays great. powers of reasoning and elegance of language. Afterwards when the grand jury of Kent presented to the commons, MayS, 1701, a petition, which desired them “to mind the public business more, and their private heats less” Messrs. Culpeppers, Polhill, Hamilton, and Champneys, who avowed this intrepid paper, were committed to the Gate-house, in Westminster, amidst the applauses of their countrymen. It was on this occasion that De Foe dictated a remonstrance, which was signed “Legion,” and which, has been recorded in history for its bold truths and seditious petulance. His zeal induced him to assume a woman’s dress, while he delivered this paper to Harley, the speaker, as he entered the house of commons. It was then also that our author published “The Original Power of the collective Body of the People of England, examined and asserted:” This seasonable treatise he dedicated to king William, in a dignified strain of nervous eloquence. ^ It is not the least of the extraordinaries of your majesty’s character,“says he,” that, as yon are king of your people, so yon are the people’s king; a title, which, as it is the most glorious, so it is the most indisputable.“To the lords and commons he addresses himself in a similar tone: the vindication of the original right of all men to the government of themselves, he tells them, is so far from being a derogation from, that it is a confirmation of their legal authority.” Every lover of liberty,“says his biographer, Mr. Chalmers,” must be pleased with the perusal of a treatise, which vies with Locke’s famous tract in powers of reasoning, and is superior to it in the graces of style.“De Foe, soon after, published” The Freeholder’s Plea against Stockjobbing Elections of Parliament Men."

How much soever king William may have been pleased with the “True-born Englishman,” he was perhaps little gratified by our author’s “Reasons against a War with France.” This is one of the finest tracts in the English language. After remarking the universal cry of the people for war, our author declares he is not against war with France, provided it be on justifiable grounds; but, he hopes, England will never be so inconsiderable a nation, as to make use of dishonest pretences to bring to pass any of her designs: and he says, that he who desires we should end the war honourably, ought to desire also, that we begin it fairly. The death of king William deprived De Foe of a protector. Of this monarch’s memory, he says, that he never patiently heard it abused, nor ever could do so: and in this gratitude to a royal benefactor there is certainly much to praise.

The year 1705 was a year of disquiet to De Foe, from the persecutions of party. When his affairs led him to the west of England in August, September, and October, a project was formed to send him as a soldier to the army, at a time when footmen were taken from the coaches as recruits; but, conscious of his being a freeholder of England, and a liveryman of London, he knew that such characters could not be violated with impunity. When some of the western justices, of more zeal of party than sense of duty, heard from his opponents of De Foe’s journey, they determined to apprehend him as a vagabond; but our author, who had personal courage in a high degree, reflected, that to face danger is most effectually to prevent it. In his absence, real suits were commenced against him for fictitious debts; but De Foe advertised, that genuine claims he would fairly satisfy. All these circumstances were published in “The Review.”

About this time, lord Godolphin, who knew how to discriminate characters, determined to employ De Foe on a very important commission. The queen said to him, while he kissed her hand, she had such satisfaction in his former services, that she had again appointed him for another affair, which was something nice, but the treasurer would tell him the rest. In three days he was sent to Scotland. His knowledge of commerce and revenue, his powers of insinuation, and his readiness of pen, were deemed of no small utility in promoting the union. He accordingly arrived at Edinburgh, in October 1706; and we find him no inconsiderable actor in that greatest of all good works. He attended the committees of parliament, for whose use he made several of the calculations on the subject of trade and taxes. He endeavoured to confute all that was published by the writers in Scotland against the union; and he had his share of danger, since, as he says, “he was watched by the mob; had his chamber windows insulted; but, by the prudence of his friends, and God’s providence, he escaped.” In the midst of this great scene of business and tumult, he collected the documents, which he afterward published for the instruction of posterity, with regard to cne of the most difficult transactions in our annals.

In December 1706, he published “Caledonia,” a poem, in honour of the Scotch nation. Oh Jan. 1C, the act of union was passed by the parliament of Scotland, and De Foe returned to London in February 1707. How he was rewarded by the ministers who derived a benefit from his services, is uncertain. Mr. Chalmers is inclined to think it was by a pension. He published his “History of the Union” in 1709, though he was engaged in other lucubrations, and gave the world a “Review” three times a week. His history seems to have been little noticed when it first appeared, yet it was republished in 1712; and a third time, by his biographer, in 1786, when the union with Ireland had become a popular topic. In 1709 De Foe published his “History of Addresses,” which was followed, in 1711, by a second volume, with remarks serious and comical. His purpose plainly was to abate the public ferment with regard to Sacheverel, whose conduct, by a kind of fatality or folly, occasioned some eventful changes.

De Foe now lived at Newington, in comfortable circumstances, and was principally employed in writing the “Review,” which at last he relinquished after nine years continuance, and began to write “A General History of Trade,” which he proposed to publish in monthly numbers; but this history, which exhibits the ingenuity and strength of De Foe, extended only to two numbers. He appears, at last, to have been silenced by noise, obloquy, and insult, and finding himself treated in this manner, he declined writing at all, and secreted himself, for a time, at Halifax, or on the borders of Lancashire, where, observing the insolence of the Jacobite party, he wrote the following tracts, “A Seasonable Caution;” “What, if the Pretender should come?” “Reasons against the Succession of the House of Hanover;” and “What if the Queen should die:” those pamphlets, whose titles were ironical, were so much approved by the zealous friends of the protestant succcbbiun, that they were diligent to disperse them through the most distant counties; ana 1 yet the reader will learn, with indignation, that for these De Foe wen arrested, obliged to give Soo/. bail, contrary to the bill of rights, and prosecuted by information, in Trinity term, 1713. This prosecution was instituted by the absurd zeal of Mr. auditor Benson. Our author attributes it to the malice of his enemies, who were numerous and powerful. No inconsiderable people were heard to say, that they knew the books were against the pretender, but that De Foe had disobliged them in other things, and they resolved to take this advantage to punish him. He was prompted by consciousness of innocence to defend himself in the “Review” during the prosecution, which offended the judges, who, being infected with the violent spirit of the times, committed him to Newgate in Easter term 1713. He was, however, soon released, on making a proper submission, and the earl of Oxford being still in power, that nobleman procured him the queen’s pardon, in November 1713.

“No sooner was the queen dead,” says De Foe, “but the rage of men increased upon me to that degree, that their threats were such as I am unable to express. Though I have written nothing since the queen’s death; yet a great many things are called by my name, and I bear the answei'ers insults. 1 have not seen or spoken with the earl of Oxford, since the king’s landing, but once; yet he bears the reproach of my writing for him, and I the rage of men for doing it.” — De Foe appears, indeed, to have been stunned by factious clamour, and overborne, though not silenced, by unmerited obloquy. He probably lost his original appointment when the earl of Oxford was finally expelled. Instead of meeting with reward for his zealous services in support of the protestant succession, he was, on the accession of George I, discountenanced even by those who had derived a benefit from his active exertions. Thus cruelly circumstanced, he published in 1715, his “Appeal to Honour and Justice, being a true account of his conduct in public affairs.” As a motive for this intrepid measure, he affectingly says, “By the hints of mortality, and the infirmities of a life of sorrow and fatigue, I have reason to think, that I am very near to the great ocean of eternity; and the time may not be long ere I embark on the last voyage: wherefore, I think I should make even accounts with this world before I go, that no slanders may lie against my heirs, to disturb them in the peaceable possession of their father’s inheritance, his character.” Before he could finish his appeal, he was struck with an apoplexy. After languishing more than six weeks, neither able to go on, nor likely to recover, his friends would delay the publication no longer. “It is the opinion of most who know him,” says Baker, the publisher, “that the treatment which he here complains of, and others of which he would have spoken, have been the cause of this disaster.” When the ardent mind of De Foe reflected on what he had done, and what he had suffered, his heart melted in despair, and the year 1715 may be regarded as the period of our author’s political life. The death of Anne, and the accession of George the first, seem to have convinced him of the vanity of party-writing. And from this eventful epoch, he appears to have studied how to meliorate the heart, and how to regulate the practice of life.

In 1719 he published the “Life and surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe,” the most popular of all his performances. The reception of this extraordinary work was immediate and universal; and Taylor, who purchased the manuscript, afrer every bookseller had refused it, is said to have gained by it 1000l. In the same year he published a second volume of this extraordinary work, of which it may be said, that at the distance of a century it has lost none of its original attraction. Had all his other writings perished, the history of the author of Robinson Crusoe must have been an object of literary curiosity. In 172O he published “Serious Reflexions during the Life of Robinson Crusoe, with his vision of the angelic world.” This was intended as a third volume, but the public very justly decided that a third volume was inadmissible, and it was soon forgotten. As to the story, that De Foe had surreptitiously obtained the papers of Alexander Selkirk, a Scotch mariner, who having suffered shipwreck, lived on the island of Juan Fernandez four or five years, it is scarcely worthy of serious refutation. Yet what is needful to repel this charge has been amply afforded by his late biographer. Selkirk, in truth, had no papers to lose; and internal evidence is decidedly in favour of the pure and entire originality of De Foe’s inimitable fiction.

The success of Crusoe induced De Foe to publish, in 1720, “The Life and Piracies of captain Singleton,” though not with similar success. In 1725 he gave “A New Voyage round the World, by a course never sailed before.” In the life of Crusoe we are gratified by continually imagining that the fiction is a fact; in the “Voyage round the World” we are pleased, by constantly perceiving that the fact is a fiction, which, by uncommon skill, is made more interesting than a genuine voyage. In 1720 he published the “History of Duncan Campbell,” who was born deaf and dumb, but who himself taught the deaf and dumb to understand. The author has here contrived that the merriest passages shall end with some edifying moral. The “Fortunes and Misfortunes of Moll Flanders” followed in 1721, the morality of which we cannot commend. The same year he published a work of a similar tendency, the “Life of colonel Jaque,” who was born a gentleman, but bred a pick-pocket. In 1724, appeared the “Fortunate Mistress, or the Adventures of Roxana.” The world, however, has not been made much wiser or better by the perusal of these lives, which may have diverted the lower orders, but are too gross for improvement, and exhibit few scenes which are welcome to cultivated minds. Of a very different quality are the “Memoirs of a Cavalier during the Civil Wars in England.” This is a romance the most like to truth that ever was written; a narrative of great events, drawn with such simplicity, and enlivened with such reflections, as to inform the ignorant, and entertain the wise. It was a favourite book of the great earl of Chatham, who, before he discovered it to be a fiction, used to speak of it as the best account of the Civil Wars extant.

The moral writings of De Foe must at last give him a superiority over the crowd of his contemporaries. The approbation which has been long given to his “Family Instructor,” and “Religious Courtship,” seems to contain the favourable decision of his countrymen. But there are still other performances of this nature, of not inferior merit. In 1722 he published “A Journal of the Plague in 1665.” The author’s artifice consists in fixing the reader’s attention by the deep distress of fellow-men; and, by recalling his recollection to striking examples of mortality, he endeavours to inculcate the necessity of reformation. This, however, like his “Memoirs of a Cavalier,” is a pure fiction, and for a long time imposed on the celebrated Dr. Mead, who thought it genuine. In 1724 he published “The great Law of Subordination,” an admirable commentary on the unsufferable behaviour of servants. He gave the “Political History of the Devil,” ia 1726; a performance in which he engages reasoning and wit, persuasion and ridicule, on the side of religion, with wonderful efficacy. He wrote “A System of Magic,” in 1726, which may be regarded as a supplement to the “History of the Devil.” His views and execution are exactly the same. In 1727 he published his “Treatise on the Use and Abuse of the Marriage-bed,” an excellent book, with an improper title-page.

He published his “Tour through England” in 1724 and 1725 and through Scotland in 1727, He was not one of those travellers who seldom quit the banks of the Thames. He had made extensive excursions, with observant eyes and a vigorous intellect. The great art of these volumes consists in the frequent mention of such men and things as are always welcome to the reader’s mind. In 1727 he published, “The Complete English Tradesman,” directing him in the several parts of trade. A second volume followed, addressed to the more experienced and opulent traders. In these treatises are many directions of business, and many lessons of prudence; and, with the same salutary views, he published in 1728, “A Plan of the English Commerce.”

De Foe died in April 1731, in the parish of St. Giles’s Cripplegate. He left a widow, who did not long survive him, and six sons and daughters. His son Daniel is said to have emigrated to Carolina, but had a daughter, Mary, who about 1745, boarded in a private family at Chelmsford, in Essex. She was married about 1749, to Mr. John Thome, a shop-keeper at Braintree, in the same county. She died a widow, about 1775, leaving a son (since dead) and two daughters. She was a zealous dissenter, and seemed to inherit her grandfather’s sarcastic spirit. A sister of her’s, the wife of Mr. Standerwick, haberdasher and milliner, in Cornhill, died in 1787, a widow, at Stoke Newington, where her grandfather, as already mentioned, had so long lived, and where, it may now be added, he paid in April 1721, 10l. to be excused from serving parish-offices. His daughter Sophia, married Henry Baker, the natural philosopher, who died in 1774.

De Foe probably died insolvent; for letters of administration were granted to Mary Brooke, widow, a creditrix, in September 1703, after summoning in official form the next of kin to appear. John Dunton, who personally knew our author, describes him in 1705, as a man of good parts and clear sense; of a conversation ingenious and brisk; of a spirit enterprising and bold, but of little prudence; with good nature and real honesty.

De Foe certainly possessed very uncommon merit, both as a man and as a writer, and yet few men have received more injurious treatment from their contemporaries. He has repeatedly been represented as an unprincipled writer, who had no view but to his own advantage, and who would write for any party by which he was employed; charges which appear to be totally destitute of foundation. He was not rich; and he naturally and reasonably endeavoured to make some pecuniary advantage of his writings; but he seems always to have written in conformity to ins own principles; and, though much abuse has been thrown out against him, no evidence to the contrary has ever been, produced. His prose works are much more valuable than his poetical performances. As a political writer ue had great merit; his sentiments appear to have been generally just, and he expressed himself with force and perspicuity. His pieces on the subject of trade and commerce exhibit uncommon penetration, and very various and extensive knowledge. But nis fame must ever rest on those works which were entirely the offspring of invention, and of these, his “Robinson Crusoe” rises superior to every thing of the kind. Alrnotigh we know of no imitations of this which deserve notice, some critics have placed De Foe at the head of a school, and have instanced Richardson as one of his best scholars. Richardson, says Dr. Kippis, seems to have learned from him that mode of delineating characters, and carrying on dialogues, and that minute discrimination of the circumstances of events, in which De Foe so eminently excelled. If, in certain respects, the disciple rose above his master, as he undoubtedly did, in others tie was inferior to him; for his conversations are sometimes more tedious and diffuse; and his works, though beautiful in their kind, are not by any means so various. Both of these writers had a wonderful ability in drawing pictures of human nature anJ human life. A careful perusal of the “Family Instructor,” and the “Religious Courtship,” would particularly tend to shew the resemblance between De Foe and Richardson. If, however, Richardson is to be traced to De Foe, we have sometimes thought that the latter was, with regard to simplicity of style, somewhat indebted to Bunyan, an author whom he must have read in his youth, and whose religious principles are obvious in the second volume of his “Robinson Crusoe.” After remaining in comparative obscurity for many years, De Foe at last found a biographer in George Chalmers, esq. who has done ample justice to his memory, and has presented the literary world with a more elegant, accurate, and satisfactory account of his personal history and writings, than could have been expected so long after his decease. It is unnecessary to add, that this, and every succeeding account of De Foe, must be indebted to Mr. Chalmers’s researches.

, a voluminous writer on almost every branch of medicine, was the son of a surgeon of Montpellier. In 1691 he was made M. D. and in 1697, professor of chemistry. He was also honoured with the ribbon of the order of St. Michael, and was admitted one of the foreign members of the royal society of London. In 1732, being appointed physician to the galleys, he quitted Montpellier, and went to Marseilles, where he died on the 3d of April, 1746. Of his works, the following have been most noticed: “Experiences sur la Bile, et les cadavres des pestiferes, faites par M. D.; accompagnees des Lettres, &c.” Zurich, 1772. He was at Marseilles while the plague raged there, and attributed the disease to a prevailing acid. He injected bile taken from persons who had died of the plague, into the veins of some dogs, which were almost immediately killed by the venom; an experiment from which no useful result could be expected to follow. He tried inunctions with mercury in the disease; from which, he says, no benefit nor mischief was found to accrue. “Chymie raisonnee, ou Ton tache de decouvrir la nature et la maniere d'agir des remedes chymiques les plus en usage en medicine et en chirurgie,” Lyon, 1715, 12mo. These experiments were also fruitless; they shew, however, an active and inquisitive turn of mind, which, properly directed, might have been productive of some profits. He published three volumes of consultations and observations, which may be read with advantage, the diseases being generally correctly described, and the method of treating them such as is now commonly practised. For the titles and accounts of the remainder of his works, see Haller’s Bib. Med.

Soon after this he took holy orders, but had little zeal for the profession, and produced his sermons as matters of ordinary duty his muse was the mistress which engaged his principal attention and, as the muses generally love “the gay and busy haunts of men,” this pursuit was of no service to his promotion or clerical character. He unfortunately, too, loved his bottle as well as his muse; and by such indulgences sunk in the esteem of his fellow citizens, who said poetry affected his head; and in a little time they gave him the title of “the mad parson,” under which general character, the graver kind of people grew cautious of his acquaintance, whilst the young ones solicited his company to enjoy his eccentricities. In time he fell so much into this last seduction, that he was the volunteer of any party who would engage him for the night. This conslant dissipation at last enfeebled his understanding; and the charge which malice and ignorance at first fastened on him, was now realized his intellect; were at times evidently deranged and he fancied himself, after the example of Socrates, to be nightly visited by a demon, who enabled him to prophesy all manner of future events.

Dr. Delany, on the 9tti of June 1743, married a second time. The lady with whom he formed this connexion was Mrs. Pendarves, the relict of Alexander Pen Janes, esq a very ingenious and excellent woman; of whom some account will be given in the next article. The doctor had lost his first wife December 6, 1741. March 13, 1744, our author preached a sermon before the society for promoting protestant working schools in Ireland. In May 1744, he was raised to the highest preferment which he ever attained, the deanry of Down, in the room of Dr. Thomas Fletcher, appointed to be bishop of Dro no re. In the same year, previously to this promotion, our author published a volume of sermons upon social duties, fifteen in number, to which in a second edition, 1747, were added five more, on the opposite vices. This is the most useful of Dr. Delany’s performances; the objects to which rt relates being of very important and general concern. Dr. Delany’s next publication was not till 174-8, and that was only a sixpenny pamphlet. It was entitled “An Essay towards evidencing the divine original of Tythes,” and had at first been drawn up, and probably preached as a sermon. The text, rather a singular one, was the tenth commandment, which forbids us to covet any thing that is our neighbour’s; and it required some ingenuity to deduce the divine original of tithes from that particular prohibition. After an interval of six years, Dr. Delany again appeared in the world as an author, in answer to the earl of Orrery’s “Remarks on the Life and Writings of Dr. Swift.” Many of Su ill’s zealous admirers were not a little displeased with the representations which the noble lord had given of him in various respects. Of this number was Dr. Delany, who determined therefore to do justice to the memory of his old friend; for which few were better qualified, having been in the habits of intimacy with the dean of St. Patrick’s, from his first coming over to Ireland, and long before lord Orrery could have known any thing concerning him. On the whole, it was thought that this production of the doctor’s enabled the public to form a far more clear estimation of the real character of the dean of St. Patrick’s, than any account of him which had hitherto been given to the world; yet perhaps the fairest estimate must be made by a comparison of both. However zealous Dr. Delany might be for the honour of his friend, he did not satisfy Deane Swift, esq. who, in his Essay upon the life, writings, and character of his relation, treated our author with extreme ill manners and gross abuse; to which he thought proper to give an answer, in a letter to Mr. Swift, published in 1755. In this letter the doctor justified himself; and he did it with so much temper and ingenuity, so much candour, and yet with so much spirit, that the polite gentleman, and the worthy divine, were apparent in every page of his little pamphlet. The year 1754 also produced another volume of sermons; the larger part of them are practical, and these are entitled to great commendation, particularly two discourses on the folly, iniquity, ad absurdity of duelling. During this part of Dr. Delany’s life, he was involved in a law-suit of great consequence, and which, from its commencement to its final termination, lasted more than nine years. It related to the personal estate of his first lady; and although a shade was cast on his character by the decision of the Irish court of chancery, his conduct was completely vindicated by that decree being reversed in the house of lords in England. But he was not so deeply engaged in the prosecution of his law-suit as entirely to forget his disposition to be often appearing in. the world as an author. In 1757 he began a periodical paper called “The Humanist,” whicli was carried on through 15 numbers, and then dropped. In 1761 Dr. Delany published a tract, entitled “An humble apology for Christian Orthodoxy,” and several sermons. It was in 1763, after an interval of nearly thirty years from the publication of his former volumes, that he gave to the world the third and last volume of his “Revelation examined with candour.” In the preface the doctor has indulged himself in some peevish remarks upon Reviewers of works of literature; but from complaints of this kind few writers have ever derived any material advantage. With regard to the volume itself, it has been thought to exhibit more numerous instances of the prevalence of imagination, over judgment than had occurred in the former part of the undertaking. In 1766 Dr. Delany published a sermon against transubstantiation; which was succeeded in the same year by his last publication, which was a volume containing 18 discourses. Dr. Delany departed this life at Bath, in May 1763, in the 83d year of his age. Though in general he was an inhabitant of Ireland, it appears from several circumstances, and especially from his writings, almost all of which were published in London, that he frequently came over to England, and occasionally resided there for a considerable time. Of his literary character an estimate may be formed from what has been already said. With regard to two of his principal works, the “Revelation examined with candour,” and the “Life of David,” they contain so many fanciful ^ul doubtful positions, that all the ability and learning i.,i., played in them will scarcely suffice to hand them down, with any eminent degree of reputation, to future ages. It is on his sermons, and particularly on those which relate to social duties, that will principally depend the perpetuity of his fame. With respect to his personal character, he appears to have been a gentleman of unquestionable piety and goodness, and of an uncommon warmth of heart. This warmth of heart was, however, accompanied with some inequality, impetuosity, and irritability of temper. Few excelled him in charity, generosity, and hospitality. His income, which for the last twenty years of his life was 3006J. per annum, sunk under the exercise of these virtues, and he left little behind him besides books, plate, and furniture. Of a literary diligence, protracted to above fourscore years, Dr. Delany has afforded a striking example; though it may possibly be thought, that if, wben his body and mind grew enfeebled, he had remembered the solve senescentem equum, it would hate been of no disadvantage to his reputation.

We shall conclude this article with an anecdote that has been related, to shew the characteristic absence of our author’s mind. In the reign of king George II. being desirous of the honour of preaching before his majesty, he obtained, from the lord chamberlain, or the dean of the chapel, the favour of being appointed to that office on the fifth Sunday of some month, being an extra-day, not supplied, e x qfficio, by the chaplains. As he was not informed of the etiquette, he entered the royal chapel after the prayers began, and, not knowing whither to go, crowded into the desk by the reader. The vesturer soon after was at a loss for the preacher, till, seeing a clergyman kneeling by the reader, he concluded him to be the man. Accordingly, he went to him, and pulled him by the sleeve. But Dr. Delany, chagrined at being interrupted in his devotions, resisted and kicked the intruder, who in vain begged him to come out, and said, “There was no text.” The doctor replied, that he had a text; nor could he comprehend the meaning, till the reader acquainted him, that he must go into the vestry, and write down the text (as usual) for the closets. When he came into the vestry, his hand shook so much that he could not write. Mrs. Delany, therefore, was sent for; but no paper was at hand. At last, on the cover of a letter, the text was transcribed by Mrs. Delany, and so carried up to the king and royal family.

, the second wife of the preceding, and a lady of distinguished ingenuity and merit, was born at a small country house of her father’s at Coulton in Wiltshire, May, 14, 1700. She was the daughter of Bernard Granville, esq. afterward lord Lansdowne, a nobleraan whose abilities and virtues, whose character as a poet, whose friendship with Pope, Swift, and other eminent writers of the time, and whose general patronage of men eyf genius and literature, have often been recorded in biographical productions. As the child of such a family, sh^ could not fail of receiving the best education. It was at Long-Leat, the seat of the Weymouth family, which was occupied by lord Lansdowne during the minority of the heir of that family, that Miss Granville first saw Alexander Pendarves, esq. a gentleman of large property at Roscrow in Cornwall, and who immediately paid his addresses to her; which were so strenuously supported by her uncle, whom she had not the courage to deny, that she gave a reluctant consent to the match; and accordingly it took place in the compass of two or three weeks, she being then in the seventeenth year of her age. From a great disparity of years, and other causes, she was very unhappy during the time which this connexion lasted, but endeavoured to make the best of her situation. The retirement to which she was confined was wisely employed in the farther cultivation of a naturally vigorous understanding: and the good use she made of her leisure hours, was eminently evinced in the charms of her conversation, and in her letters to her friends. That quick feeling of the elegant and beautiful which constitutes taste, she possessed in an eminent degree, and was therefore peculiarly fitted for succeeding in the fine arts. At the period we are speaking of, she made a great proficiency in music, but painting, which afterwards she most loved, and in which she principally excelled, had not yet engaged her practical attention. in 1724 Mrs. Pendarves became a widow; upon which occasion she quitted Cornwall, and fixed her principal residence in London. For several years, between 1730 and 1736, she maintained a correspondence with Dr. Swift. In 1743, as we have seen in the former article, Mrs. Pendarves was married to Dr. Delany, with whom it appears that she had long been acquainted; and for whom he had many years entertained a very high esteem. She had been a widow nineteen years when this connexion, which was a very happy one, took place, and her husband is said to fcave regarded her almost to adoration. Upon his decease in ftiay 1768, she intended to fix herself at Bath, and was in quest of a house for that purpose. But the duchess dowager of Portland, hearing of her design, went down to the place; and, having in her earl v years formed an intimacy with Mrs. Delany, wished to have near her a lady from whom she had necessarily, for several years, been much separated, and whose heart and talents she knew would in the highest degree add to thejiappiness of her own life. Her <*race succeeded in her solicitalions, and Mrs. Delany now passed her time between London and Bulstrode. On the death of the duchess-dowager of Portland, his present majesty, who had frequently seen and honoured Mrs Delany with his notice at Bulstrode, assigned her for her summer residence the use of a house completely furnished, in St. Alhan’s-street, Windsor, adjoining to the entrance of the castle: and, that the having two houses on her hands might not produce any inconvenience with regard to the expence of her living, his majesty, as a farther mark of his royal favour, conferred on her a pension of three hundred pounds a year. On the 15th of April, 1788, after a short indisposition, she departed this life, at her house in St. James’s-place, having nearly completed the 88th year of her age. The circumstance that has principally entitled Mrs. Delany to a place in this work is her skill in painting, and in other ingenious arts, one of which was entirely her own. With respect to painting, she was late in her application to it. She did not learn to draw till she was more than thirty years of age, when she put herself under the instruction of Goupy, a fashionable master of that time, and much employed by Frederic prince of Wales. To oil-painting she did not take till she was past forty. So strong was her passion for this art, that she has frequently been known to employ herself in it, day after day, from six o'clock in the morning till dinner time, allowing only a short interval for breakfast. She was principally a copyist; but a very fine one. The only considerable original work of hers in oil was the Kaising of Lazarus, in the possession of her friend lady JBute. The number of pictures painted by her, considering how late it was in life before she applied to the art, was very great. Her own house was full of them; and others are among the chief ornaments of Calswich, Welsborn, and Ham, the respective residences of her nephews, Mr. Granville and Mr. Dewes, and of her niece Mrs. Port. Mrs. Delany, among her other accomplishments, excelled in embroidery and shell-work; and, in the course of her life, produced many elegant specimens of her skill in these respects. But, what is more remarkable, at the age of 74 she invented a new and beautiful mode of exercising her ingenuity. This was by the construction of a Flora, of a most singular kind, formed by applying coloured papers together, and which might, not improperly, be called a species of mosaic work. Being perfectly mistress of her scissars, the plant or flower which she purposed to imitate she cut out; that is, she cut out its various leaves and parts in such coloured Chinese paper as suited her subject; and, when she could not meet with a colour to correspond with the one she wanted, she dyed her own paper to answer her wishes. She used a black ground, as best calculated to throw out her flower; and not the least astonishing part of her art was, that though she never employed her pencil to trace out the form or shape of her plant, yet when she had applied all the p eces which composed it, it hung so loosely and gracefully, that every one was persuaded that it must previously have been drawn out, and repeatedly corrected by a most judicious hand, before it could have attained the ease and air of truth which, without any impeachment of the honour of this accomplished lady, might justly be called a forgery of nature’s works. The effect was superior to what painting could have produced; and so imposing was her art, that she would sometimes put a real leaf of a plant by the side of one of her own creation, which the eye could not detect, even when she herself pointed it out. Mrs. Delany continued in the prosecution of her design till the 83d year of her age, when the dimness of her sight obliged her to lay it aside. However, by her unwearied perseverance, she became authoress of far the completest Flora that ever was executed by the same hand. The number of plants finished bv her amounted to nine hundred and eighty. This invaluable Flora was bequeathed by her to her nephew Court Dewes, esq. and is now in the possession of Barnard Dewes, esq. of Welsborn in Warwickshire. The liberality of Mrs. Delany’s mind rendered her at all times ready to communicate her art. She frequently pursued her work in company; was desirous of shewing to her friends how easy it was to execute; and was often heard to lament that so few would attempt it. It required, however, great patience and great knowledge in botanical drawing. She began to write poetry at 80 years of age, and her verses shew at least a pious disposition. Her private character is thus given by her friend, Mr. Keate. “She had every virtue that could adorn the human heart, with a mind so pure, and so uncontaminated by the world, that it was matter of astonishment how she could have lived in its more splendid scenes without being tainted with one single atom of its folly or indiscretion. The strength of her understanding received, in the fullest degree, its polish, but its weakness never reached her. Her life was conducted by the sentiments of true piety; her way of thinking, on every occasion, was upright and just; her conversation was lively, pleasant, and instructive. She was warm, delicate, and sincere in her friendships; full of philanthropy and benevolence, and loved and respected by every person who had the happiness to know her. That sun-shine and serenity of mind which the good can only enjoy, and which had thrown so much attraction on her life, remained without a shadow to the last; not less bright in its setting, than in its meridian lustre. That form which in youth had claimed admiration, in age challenged respect. It presented a noble ruin, become venerable by the decay of time. Her faculties remained unimpaired to the last; and she quitted this mortal state to receive in a better world the crown of a well-spent life.”

, one of the French Encyclopaedists, was born at Portets, in the vicinity of Bonrdeanx, in January 1726; was at an early age admitted into the college of the Jesuits, and, when only fifteen years old, was invested with their order. He was a youth of much imagination and sensibility, and at the same time strongly addicted to mental melancholy; during which he almost uninterruptedly directed his thoughts to the two great extremes of futurity, heaven and hell, which distressed him with perpetual agitations of mind. Deleyre, however, did not long continue in this state of mind, but quitted the Jesuit society, and with this, we have no small reason to believe, every religious faith whatever. As he was of plebeian birth, he could have no expectations from the court; his only alternatives were philosophy and the law; and the latter did not exactly correspond, we are told by his eulogist, either with his sensibility or his independence of mind. Montesquieu was at this time the Miecenas of Guienne, and became the patron of Deleyre from a thorough conviction of his talents: he introduced him to Diderot, d'Alembert, J. J. Rousseau, and Duclos; and his destiny was fixed: he decided for philosophy, and became a writer in the Encyclopedic. In this new capacity his hardihood was not inferior to that of his colleagues; the famous, or rather infamous, article on fanaticism was soon known to have been of his production, and it was likely to have been essentially detrimental to him; for he had now fixed his attention upon matrimony, and had obtained the consent of a lady; but the priests of the parish in which the ceremony was to have been celebrated, refused to unite them, in consequence of their having heard that Deleyre was the author of this article. His patronage, however, was at this time increased, and he had found a warm and steady friend in the due de Nivernois, who interfered in the dispute, and Deleyre obtained the fair object of his wishes. The duke had before this solicited, and successfully, the appointment for him of librarian to the infant prince of Parma, who was at this period committed to the immediate care of Condillac. In this situation he continued for some considerable time; and although a dispute respecting the mode of educating their pupil at length separated him from this celebrated logician, he appears to have always entertained for him the highest degree of respect.

At the commencement of the revolution, Deleyre proved himself warmly attached to the popular side of the question: he was elected a member of the National Convention and of the Committee of Public Instruction. In revolutionary politics he was a Girondist; and his natural taciturnity prevented him from falling a sacrifice to the tyranny of Robespierre. He made his will while in Italy, in 1772. At this period he seems to have anticipated the approaching misfortunes of his country: “France,” says he, in this curious paper, “the country in which I was born, has, from the corruption of her manners, fallen under the yoke of despotism. The nation is too blind or too indolent to desire or be able to free herself. The government is become odious, and will terminate in despotism.” He adds, that, in consequence hereof, he is tired of life, and that, as he is uncertain whether he shall have patience enough to wait for his decease, or courage sufficient to hasten it, he deems it a duty to be prepared with a testament, explicitly stating all his desires concerning himself and the little he has to bequeath. This sort of language was not uncommon to the Encyclopedists and their immediate friends; but with all their vaunting, they appear to have had more attachment to life, or more dread of dissolution, than the German sentimentalists. With the latter, suicide was common, even among many who seldom boasted of performing it: among the former it was more often threatened than executed. Our philosopher died in the beginning of 1797, in the seventy-first year of his age, of a natural decay. The three chief works in which he engaged during his life-time were, an “Analysis of the Philosophy of Bacon,” in whose general opinions he appears to have been profoundly versed a variety of articles introduced into the body of the Encyclopedic and a “General History of Voyages,” a voluminous publication, which extended to nineteen large octavos. He published also “Le Genie de Montesquieu,” 12mo, and “L'Esprit de St. Evremont,” 12mo. Upon his decease were discovered many inedited works, and among the rest a poetic translation of Lucretius. Of such a translation, France, as well as every other country in Europe, except Italy, is much in want; but, from what we have seen of M. Deleyre’s metrical ballads, we strongly doubt his capacity to do justice to the inimitable beauties of the Roman bard: several of these ballads have, nevertheless, obtained the honour of being set to music by his friend Jean-Jaques Rousseau. It is more to the praise of Deleyre, that he was an enemy to all persecution, and, when in the possession of power, acted with kindness towards many who were of different sentiments from his own, and by whom he had been been undeservedly ill-treated.

, a French monk, was born at Montet in Auvergne, in 1637, and became a monk of Clermont in 1656, where he recommended himself to the notice and respect of his superiors by his application and talents. He was fixed on, at the instigation of the celebrated Arnaud, to give a new edition of the works of St. Augustine, and had made considerable preparation for the publication, when an anonymous tract, entitled “L' Abbe commandataire,” exposing certain ecclesiastical abuses, was imputed to him, it is said unjustly. He must, however, have had no means of disproving the charge, as he was banished for it to Lower Bretagne. He was shortly after called upon to preach at Brest, on some public occasion, when the vessel in which he took his passage was wrecked, and he was among the number of those that were drowned, in October 1676, in the thirty-ninth year of his age. He was author of several works, of little importance now, if we except an historical eulogy, entitled “The Epitaph of Casimir, king of Poland, who, after having abdicated his crown, retired into France, and became abbot of St. Germain de Pres.”

By this, we regret to add, De Lolme was not much a gainer. It was discouraged on its first appearance, and although mentioned with high respect by some leading men in parliament, nothing substantial was done for its author. His private life, however, had many singularities, and De Lolme was not a man to be provided for by casual bounty, or casual patronage. He expected, and had reason to expect, some permanent reward that might have led to independence. Disappointed in this, his pride of spirit would not suffer him to solicit inferior rewards. For some years, when inquiries were made by men of rank, who probably meant to have assisted him, it was almost impossible to trace his lodgings, which he frequently changed, and in some of which he passed by fictitious names. He lived on little, and his appearance and personal habits became slovenly. Before he left this country, we are told, he received some aid from the Literary Fund; but how he lived abroad, we have not heard. From personal knowled;. e we can subscribe to the conclusion of Dr. Coote’s character of him “He had the art of pleasing in conversation, though the graces did not appear in his manners or deportment. He had a turn for pleasantry and humour; and has been compared to Burke for the variety of his illusions, and the felicity of his illustrations. His general temper has been praised; but his spirit was considered by many as too high for his fortune; yet, in one respect, his mind assimilated to the occasional penury under which he laboured; for, in his mode of living, he could imitate the temperance and self-denial of a philosopher.” In 1807, an edition of his work on the Constitution was published, illustrated by notes, and a critical and biographical preface by Dr. Charles Coote. Of this last we have availed ourselves in the present sketch. For an account of the early neglect with which De Lolme was treated, the reader may be referred to his own preface.

, a very learned Jesuit, was born at Antwerp of Spanish parents, in 1551. The progress he made in letters, while a very boy, is recorded with wonder. He was taught grammar in the Low Countries, and then sent to Paris to learn rhetoric and philosophy under the Jesuits. Afterwards he went to study civil law in the new university of Do way; but removing from thence to Louvain, he laid aside that pursuit, and applied himself to polite literature, which he cultivated with so much ardour and success, that he surprised the public, when he was only nineteen years of age, with some good notes upon the tragedies of Seneca. “What is more,” says Baillet, “he cited in this work almost 1100 authors, with all the assurance of a man who had read them thoroughly, and weighed their sentiments with great judgment and exactness.” The reputation he acquired by this first essay of his erudition was afterwards increased. He is said to have understood at least ten languages, and to have read every thing, ancient and modern, that was thought worth reading. He was admitted LL. D. at Salamanca in 1574; and was afterwards a counsellor of the parliament of Brabant, and an intendant of the army. In 1580 he became a Jesuit at Valladolid; from whence going into the Low Countries, he taught divinity and the belles lettres, and contracted a firm friendship with Lipsius. He taught also at Liege, at Mentz, at Gratz, and at Salamanca. He died at Louvain, in 1608, about two years after his friend Lipsius.

, an Athenian, who from a mariner became an orator, was taken prisoner at the battle of Cheronea gained by Philip of Macedon. By his eloquence he acquired a great ascendancy over the mind of that prince. One day, Philip making his appearance before the prisoners with all the ornaments of royalty, and cruelly insulting their misery “I am astonished,” said Demades, “that, fortune having assigned you the part of Agamemnon, you can amuse yourself in playing that of Thersites.” Demades was no less interested than eloquent. Antipater, his friend as well as that of Phocion, complained that he could never make the latter accept of any presents, while he could not bestow on the other enough to satisfy his covetousness. Demades was put to death, under suspicion of treason, in the year 332 before Christ. Nothing of his has come down to us, except the “Oratio de Duodecennali,” Greek and Latin, Hanov. 1619, 8vo, and in the “Rhetorum collectio,” Venice, 1513, 3 torn, folio.

, an ingenious electrician, was born in the parish of St. Martin’s, London, in 1710. His father having escaped from France to Holland, upon the revocation of the edict of Nantes, came over to England with king William. He died soon after the birth of his son, who was brought up by his uncle, an officer in the English service, and page of honour to queen Mary, who placed him at Westminster school. Whilst pursuing his studies there, he boarded in the house of Dr. Desaguliers, who instructed him in the mathematics and natural philosophy. At the age of seventeen, before he had left school, he married; and went to Leyden and followed his studies in the university of that place. In 1740, he began to read lectures in experimental philosophy at Edinburgh, and continued them till he was interrupted by the rebellion. He then took up arms for government, and was a volunteer at the battle of Preston-pans. In 1746, he resumed his lectures, and published his discovery of the effects of electricity upon the growth of vegetables. This discovery was afterwards claimed by abbé Nollet; but is very properly assigned to Dr. Demainbray by Dr. Priestley, in his “History of Electricity.” In 1749, Dr; Demainbray went to Dublin, where he read his lectures with much success, as he did afterwards in several of the French universities, who honoured him with prize medals, and admitted him into their societies. In 1753, being then at Paris, he was invited over to England, to read a course of lectures to his present majesty (then prince of Wales) and the duke of York. On his return to England he married a second wife, his first wife having died about the year 1750. In 1755 he read a public course of lectures in the concert-room in Panton-street, and in 1757 in Carey-street, opposite Boswell-court. After this he gave private courses to other branches of the royal family; and on the arrival of her present majesty in England, instructed her in experimental philosophy, and natural history. In 1768, he was appointed astronomer to his majesty’s new observatory at Richmond, and adjusted the instruments there in time to observe the transit of Venus, which happened the ensuing year. Dr. Demainbray died at Richmond Feb. 20, 1782, and was interred in the churchyard of Northall, where he had purchased a small estate.

, a peripatetic philosopher, and an illustrious ornament of that school, lived in the time of Alexander the Great, and was a scholar of Theophrastus. He is represented as a flowery, rather than a persuasive speaker, and as one who aimed at grace rather than manner. Cicero says he amused the Athenians rather than warmed them; yet such was the influence of his harangues, that at Athens he was almost absolute for ten years. Three hundred and sixty statues were erected in his honour; and not undeservedly, since he is said to have augmented the revenues of it, as well as to have improved and polished its buildings. But envy at length conspiring against him, his statues were pulled down, and himself threatened with death; but he escaped into Egypt, and was protected by Ptolemy Soter. This king, it is said, asked his advice concerning the succession of his children to the throne, viz. whether he ought to prefer those he had by Eurydice to Ptolemy Philadelphus, whom he had by Berenice; and Demetrius advised him to leave his crown to the former. This displeased Philadelphia so much, that, his father being dead, he banished Demetrius, who, unable to support the repeated misfortunes he had met with, put an end to his life, by the bite of an asp. Demetrius composed more works in prose and verse, than any other peripatetic of his time; and his writings consisted of poetry, history, politics, rhetoric, harangues, and embassies. None of his works are extant for as to the piece “De Interpretatione,” which goes under his name, and is usually printed with the “Rhetores Selecti,” there are several internal marks, which shew that it is probably of a later date. He is supposed to be the same with him that collected together 200,000 volumes into the library of Ptolemy Philadelphus, who, to make it complete, caused that translation of the Bible out of Hebrew into Greek to be made, which is commonly called the Septuagint. And if it should be objected, that Demetrius could not possibly be the manager of this affair, since he was banished by Philadelphus as soon as he came to the crown, it has generally been thought sufficient to say, that these books were collected, and this translation made, while Ptolemy Philadelphus reigned with his father Ptolemy Soter. But this story is now generally discredited, and the Septuagint is ascribed to the private labour of the Jews, who were at this time resident in Egypt. When Demetrius was born, and when he died, we know not; but his disgrace at Athens is said to have happened about the year of Rome 436, that is, somewhat about 300 years before Christ.

, a learned writer of the seventeenth century, whose works have but lately been brought to light, was born in the island of Chio; he took the surname of Domesticus, as appears from the title of his works. In 1637, became to Rome to prosecute his studies in the Greek college, and seven years after he returned to his native country. During his studies at Rome, he made so considerable a progress in learning and belles lettres, that he was appointed to teach his fellow-students the Greek language; but an illness, to which he became subject, and which was thought likely to terminate in an epilepsy, obliged him to leave the college, and disabled him from taking the intended order of priesthood. Yet before his return to the island of Chio, he made, with the celebrated Lucas Holstenius, a tour to Florence, in order to examine the Greek Mss. in the Laurentian library. After his return to Chio, though he was not obliged to preach the Roman catholic religion, he attempted to support and defend it by his writings. Controversial divinity appears to have been the main object of his pursuits; though he also cultivated poetry and physic. He composed a great number of iambic verses on sacred subjects; one, among others, entitled “The Triumph of the Catholic Faith.” He wrote also a physical treatise against Galen and his disciples. He married in 1649; but the latter part of his life and his death are not recorded, though by the account of his countrymen he seems to have died at Messina. His works were published for the first time in 1781, at Rome, in 2 vols. 4to, under thfc title “Demetrii Pi-pani Domestic! Chii Opera quie reperiuntur e Grseca in Latinum verr.it et adnotationes adjecit Bernardus Stephanopolus; accedit praefatio Joannis Christophori Amadutii, cujus cura et studio nunc primum eduntur EpistoUe tres Grgeco-Latinae Imperatorum Constantinopolitanorum Joannis et Emanuelis Comneni ad Romanos poutifices Houorium II. et Alexandrum III.” Demetrius’s manuscripts were discovered by signer Stellio Raffaetli, consul for the English East India company at Chio, who sent them in 1776 to cardinal York, and earnestly requested of his eminence to get them published. The cardinal’s zeal for erudition, and for the interests of the Roman catholic religion, prompted him to grant the request, and to charge Stephanopoli and Amaduzzi, two able Greek scholars, to translate the Mss. in question into Latin, and to publish both the text and their version together. They consist chiefly of polemical treatises in favour of some points in dispute between the Roman catholics and protestants, and between the Roman catholics and the Greek church; but the most valuable part of the work is the very learned preface by Amaduzzi, respecting the origin and progress of the vulgar and modern Greek language, in which several of Demetrius’s treatises are written; and another prefixed to the letters mentioned in the title of the work, which may be considered as one of the best essays extant on the ancient Greek hand-writing.

, a man greatly distinguished in the learned world, was born at Berlin, June 2, 1703, being the son of a merchant there. He studied first at the French college at Bering and thence removed to the university of Francfortoa the Oder. He was examined for the ministry in 1725, and after some difficulties obtained it; but the ecclesiastics there being obl'g^d to certain subscriptions, to which he could not absent, he quitted the country soon after. He preached about five years in different towns of the United Provinces, from whence he was invited to London in 1731, and ordained to serve the French chapel in the Savoy. In 1762 he was named by the bishop of London to be one of the French chaplains to the king in his chapel at St. James’s. He died Aug. 10, 1775. He seldom published any thing, except occasionally, in consequence of unforeseen engagements, or at the importunity of friends. Several iittie poetical pieces, essays both in sacred and profane literature, epitomes of books, memoirs, dissertations, &c. by De Missy, with his initials C. D. M. or some assumed name, and frequently anonymous, appeared in different collections and periodical journals in Holland, France, and England, from 1721, many of which are enumerated by Mr. Nichols. He was greatly assisting to many of the learned, in their several undertakings: among others indebted to him, were the late professor Wetstein in his splendid edition of the Greek Testament, Dr. Jortin in his Life of Erasmus, and Mr. Bowyer and Mr. Nichols in “Two Essays on the Origin of Printing.” His name will frequently occur in the works of the learned, and therefore it was necessary that something should be upon record concerning him. The writer of this short extract can add, from his own personal knowledge of him, that he was not only very acute and very learned, but a sincere lover and bold assertor of truth, and a man of many and great virtues. He was twice married, but left no child. After his death were published “Sermons sur divers Textes de PKcriture Sainte, par feu Monsieur Cesar de Mis^y,” '6 vols. 8vo. His valuable library, which was sold by baker and Leigh in 1778, consisted of many books enriched with his ms notes, some of which were purchased lor his majesty’s library, some for the British Museum, and some by Dr. Hunter, who also bought several of his manuscripts.

It is said, that, from this time, Democritus ppent his days and nights in caverns and sepulchres; and that in one of these gloomy retreats, whilst he sat by his midnight lamp busily engaged in writing, he was on a sudden visited by several young men, who, in order to terrify him, had clothed themselves in black garments, and put on masks, pretending to be ghosts; but that, upon their appearance, he coolly requested them not to play the fool, and went on with the studies in which they found him employed. Others relate, that Democritus, in order to be more perfectly master of his intellectual faculties, by means of a burning glass deprived himself of the organs of sight. But the former of these stories has the air of fable; and the latter is wholly incredible, since the writers who relate it affirm, that Democritus employed his leisure in writing books, and in dissecting the bodies of animals, neither of which could very well have been effected without eyes. Cicero, who was not destitute of credulity, mentions the story, but at the same time intimates his own doubts concerning its truth. Nor is greater credit due to the tale, that Democritus spent his leisure hours in chemical researches after the philosopher’s stone, the dream of a later age; or to the story of his conversation witli Hippocrates, grounded upon letters, which are said to have passed between that father of medicine and the people of Abdera, on the supposed madness of Democritus, but which are so evidently spurious, that it would require the credulity of the Abderites themselves to suppose them genuine. All that is probable concerning this conversation, so circumstantially and eloquently related in the epistles ascribed to Hippocrates, is, that Hippocrates, who was contemporary with Democritus, admired his extensive knowledge of nature, and reprobated the stupidity of the Abderites, who imputed his wonderful operations to a supernatural intercourse with daemons, or to madness. The only reasonable conclusion which can be drawn from these marvellous tales, is that Democritus was, what he is commonly represented to have been, a man of sublime genius and penetrating judgment, who, by a long course of study and observation, became an eminent master of speculative and physical science; the natural consequence of which was, that, like Roger Bacon in a later period, he astonished and imposed upon his ignorant and credulous countrymen. Petronius relates, that he was perfectly acquainted with the virtues of herbs, plants, and stones, and that he spent his life in making experiments upon natural bodies.

Democritus has been commonly known under the appellation of the Laughing Philosopher; and it is gravely related by Seneca, that he never appeared in public, without expressing his contempt of the follies of mankind by laughter. But this account is wholly inconsistent with what has been related concerning his fondness for a life of gloomy solitude and profound contemplation; and with that strength and elevation of mind, which his philosophical researches must have required, and which are ascribed to him by the general voice of antiquity. Thus much, however, may be easily admitted, on the credit of yElian and Lucian, that a man so superior to the generality of his contemporaries, and whose lot it was to live among a race of men, the Abderites, who were stupid to a proverb, might frequently treat their follies with ridicule and contempt. Accordingly we find that, among his fellow-citizens, he obtained the appellation of yeAflwivof, or the derider.

He appears to have been in his personal character chaste and temperate; and his sobriety was repaid by a healthy old age. He lived, and enjoyed the use of his faculties, to the term of an hundred years (some say several years longer), and at last died through mere decay. The following singular circumstance is said to have happened just before his death. His sister, who had the care of him, observing him to be near his end, expressed great regret that his immediate death would prevent her celebrating the approaching festival of Ceres; upon which Democritus, who was now unable to receive any nourishment, that he might if possible gratify her wish by living a few days longer, desired her often to bring hot bread near his nostrils: the experiment succeeded, and he was preserved alive without food for three days. His death was exceedingly lamented by his countrymen and the charge of his funeral was defrayed from the public treasury. He wrote much y but none of his works are extant. A catalogue of them may be seen in Diogenes Laertius.

, a celebrated mathematician, of French original, but who spent most of his life in England, was born at Vitri in Champagne May 26, 1667. His father was a surgeon, and spared no pains in his education, and sent him early to school, where he wrote a letter to his parents in 1673, a circumstance which filial affection made him often mention with great pleasure. For some time he was educated under a popish priest, but was afterwards sent to a protestant academy at Sedan, where his predilection for arithmetical calculations so frequently took the place of classical studies, that his master one day pettishly asked, what the “little rogue meant to do with those cyphers?” He afterwards studied at Saumur and Paris, at which last place he began his mathematics under Ozanam. At length the revocation of the edict of Nantz, in 1685, determined him, with many others, to take shelter in England; where he perfected his naathematical studies. A mediocrity of fortune obliged him to employ his talent in this way in giving lessons, and reading public lectures, for his better support: in the latter part of his life too, he chiefly subsisted by giving answers to questions in chances, play, annuities, &c. and it is said many of these responses were delivered at a coffee-, house in St. Martin’s-lane, where he spent much of his time. The “Principia Mathematica” of Newton, which chance is said to have thrown in his way, soon convinced Demoivre how little he had advanced in the science he professed. This induced him to redouble his application; which was attended by a considerable degree of success; and he soon became connected with, and celebrated among, the first-rate mathematicians. His eminence and abilities in this science opened him an entrance into the royal society of London, and into the academies of Berlin and Paris. By the former his merit was so well known and esteemed, that they judged him a fit person to decide the famous contest between Newton and Leibnitz, concerning the invention of Fluxions.

The collection of the academy of Paris contains no papers of this author, who died at London, Nov. 27, 1754, at eighty-seven years of age, soon after his admission into ic; an honour which he said he considered as equivalent to lettres de noblesse. But the Philosophical Transactions of London have several, and all of them interesting, viz. in the volumes 19, 20,22, 23, 25,27, 29, 30, 32, 40, 41, 43. His separate publications are: 1. “Miscellanea Analytica, de Seriebus & Quadraturis, &c.” 1730, 4to. But perhaps he has been mqre generally known by his 2. “Doctrine of Chances; or Method of calculating the Probabilities of Events at Play.” This work was first printed 1718, in 4to, and dedicated to sir Isaac Newton; it was reprinted in 1738, with great alterations and improvements; and a third edition was afterwards printed. 3. “'Annuities on Lives,” first printed 1724, in 8vo. In 1742 the inger njoqs Thomas Simpson (then only thirty-three years of age) published his “Doctrine of Annuities and, Reversions,” in which tie paid some handsome compliments to our author. Notwithstanding which, Demoivre presently brought out a second edition of his Annuities, in the preface to which be passed some harsh reflections upon son. To these the latter gave a handsome and effectual answer, 1743, in “An Appendix, containing some Remarks on a late book on the same subject, with answers to some personal and malignant misrepresentations in the preface thereof.” At the end of this answer, Mr. Simpson concludes, “Lastly, I appeal to all mankind, whether, in his treatment of me, he has not discovered an air of selfsufficiency, ill-nature, and inveteracy, unbecoming a gentleman.” Here it would seem the controversy dropped: Mr. Uemoivre published the third edition of his book in 1750, without any farther notice of Simpson, but omitted the offensive reflections that had been fn the preface.

, a Cynic philosopher, who flourished during the reign of Adrian, in the second century, was a native of Cyprus, and descended from a family of wealth and high rank; but preferring a life of philosophic study to the employments which his birth and fortune might have commanded, he removed to Athens while he was young, and there spent the remainder of his days. In his manners and habits, he was in some respects the imitator of Diogenes, and hence he obtained a rank among the Cynics, though he never professed himself to be of any sect. From them all he selected what was excellent, and most favourable to moral wisdom; and like Socrates, he endeavoured to make philosophy not a speculative science, but the rule of life and manners. He was virtuous without ostentation, and was able to reprove vice without acrimony, and with the happiest effect. So high was his reputation, that the greatest deference was paid to his opinion in the assemblies of the Athenian people. After his death, which was not till he had attained the age of an hundred, he was honoured with a public funeral, attended with a numerous train of philosophers, and others who lamented the loss of so estimable a character. Lucian, from whom alone we have any account of Demonax, furnishes also the following anecdotes. Soon after Demonax came to Athens, a public charge was brought against him for neglecting to offer sacrifice to Minerva, and to be initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries. Appearing before the assembly in a white garment, he pleaded that Minerva did not stand in need of his offerings; and that he declined initiation into the mysteries, because, if they were bad, he ought not to conceal them; and if they were good, his love to mankind would oblige him to disclose them: upon which he was acquitted. One of his companions proposing to go to the temple of Esculapius, to pray for the recovery of his son from sickness, Demonax said: “Do you suppose that Esculapius cannot hear you as well from this place?” Hearing two ignorant pretenders to philosophy conversing, and remarking that the one asked foolish questions, and the other made replies which were nothing to the purpose, he said, “One of these men is milking a he-goat, while the other is holding a sieve under him.” Advising a certain rhetorician, who was a wretched declaimar, to perform frequent exercises, the rhetorician answered, “I frequently practise by myself.” “No wonder,” replied Demonax, “that you are so bad a speaker, when you practise before so foolish an audience.” Seeing a Spartan beating his servant unmercifully, he said to him, “Why do you thus put yourself upon a level with your slave?” When Demonax was informed that the Athenians had thoughts of erecting an amphitheatre for gladiators, in imitation of the Corinthians, he went into the assembly, and cried out, “Athenians, before you make this resolution, go and pull down the altar of mercy.”

, one of the greatest orators of antiquity, was born at Athens, in the second year of the 101st olympiad; or about 370 years before Christ. He was first placed under Plato and Euclid of Megara to study philosophy; but, observing with what applause Callistratus pleaded before the people, he applied to the study of oratory, under Isocrates and Isa3us. He was left fatherless when very young, and much neglected and defrauded by his guardians; on which account he pleaded against them at seventeen years of age, and with so much success, that they were condemned to pay him 30 talents; but, it is said, he forgave them. This was the first time that he distinguished himself by his eloquence, which at length he improved to such perfection, that Philip said “it was of more weight against him, than all the fleets and armies of the Athenians” and that “he had no enemy but Demosthenes” and Demetrius Phalereus and Eratosthenes said, “he actually appeared like one inspired.” He could present an object in any light he pleased, and give it whatever colouring best answered his purpose; and where he found it difficult to convince the judgment, he knew how to seduce the imagination. He was not perhaps so universal an orator as Cicero, not so powerful in panegyric, nor had he his turn for raillery; and Longinus says, whenever he attempted to jest, the laugh was sure to turn upon himself. But then he had a force of oratory, which, as Longinus observes, bore down, like a torrent, all before it. He opposed Philip of Macedon with his full strength, and Alexander after him. Alexander requested of the Athenians to have Demosthenes given up to him, but this was refused; yet when Antipater his successor made the same request afterwards, after his victory, these same Athenians, as the price of their pardon, were obliged to sacrifice Demosthenes and the orators of the same party. On the motion of Demades, a decree having passed condemning them to death, Demosthenes took sanctuary in the temple of Neptune at Calauria, but apprehending that attempts would be made to seize him, he provided himself with poison; and when taken by an emissary of Antipater, he retired to the interior part of the temple, and swallowed the dose. Immediately turning to Archias, the messenger of Antipater, who had been a player, he said, “Now you may perform the part of Creon as soon as you please, and cast out this carcase unburied.” Then turning to the altar, he exclaimed, “O gracious Neptune! I depart alive from thy temple without profaning it, which the Macedonians would have done by my murder.” Staggering as he attempted to retire, he fell by the altar, and expired at the age of fifty-nine, in the year B. C. 322. The Athenians not long after, erected his statue in brass, and decreed that the eldest of his family should be maintained at the public expence.

With respect to his character as a man of integrity and a patriot, Philip was not wanting in endeavours to corrupt him, as he had endeavoured to corrupt, and with success, most of the other leading men in Greece; but Demosthenes withstood all his offers; and Plutarch says, that all the gold of Macedonia could not bribe him. And yet, as inflexible as he was to Philip, he became more pliable in the reign of his successor, and gave occasion to his enemies to accuse him of bribery; for which he was fined and imprisoned, and afterwards banished; but the charge has by some been thought groundless and malicious, and the rather because he was not allowed to justify himself'. That accomplished scholar and lawyer, Mr. Charles Yorke, is said to have written a dissertation upon this subject, in which all the evidence supplied by the writers of antiquity is carefully collected, and judiciously examined, and in which Mr. Yorke’s decision is in favour of Demosthenes. It is to be regretted that this curious dissertation is still allowed to remain unpublished. Another circumstance in. the character of Demosthenes is more singular. He who with such constancy and intrepidity opposed all the measures of the foreign and domestic enemies of his country, and who so often at the hazard of his life braved the madness of the people in their assemblies, was yet unable to stand an enemy in the field. He chose, says Plutarch, to swear by those who fell at Marathon, though he could not follow their example; yet he afterwards refused life when it was offered him, and died with great fortitude. With all this mixture of character, however, Demosthenes did more service to the state than any of his contemporaries, and was the chief bulwark, not only of Athens, but of Greece in general, and almost the only obstacle to Philip’s designs of enslaving it.

In his Olynthiacs and Philippics, which are his capital orations, he had a fine field for the display of his talents, the object he had in view being to excite the indignation of his countrymen against Philip, and to guard them against the insidious measures by which that crafty prince endeavoured to lull them into security. In the prosecution of this, he adopts every proper method for animating a people once renowned for justice, humanity, and valour, but in many instances now become corrupt and degenerate. He boldly taxes them with their venality, indolence, and indifference to the public cause; whilst with consummate art, he calls to their remembrance the glory of their ancestors, and leads them to consider that they were still a flourishing and powerful people, the natural protectors of the liberty of Greece, and that they only wanted the inclination to exert themselves, in order to make Philip tremble. With his contemporary orators, who were in the interest of Philip, or who persuaded the people to peace, he keeps no measures, but reproaches them as the betrayers of their country. Phocion was of this number; he on all occasions opposed the violence of the people; and when Demosthenes once told him that the Athenians would some day murder him in a mad fit, he answered, “And you too, perhaps, in a sober fit.” These orations are strongly animated, and abounding with the impetuosity and fire of public spirit. The figures which he uses rise naturally from the subject, and are employed sparingly, for splendour and ornament do not distinguish the compositions of Demosthenes. His character, as an orator, depends upou an energy of thought peculiar to himself, which elevates him above all others. Things, and not words, appear to be the objects of his attention. He has no parade and ostentation; no methods of insinuation; no laboured introductions; but like a man fully possessed by his subject, after preparing his audience by a sentence or two for hearing plain truths, he enters directly on business, warming the mind, and impelling to action.

His style, says Dr. Blair, whom we have already partly followed, “is strong and concise, though sometimes, it must not be dissembled, harsh and abrupt. His words are very expressive; his arrangement is firm and manly; and though far from being unmusical, yet it seems difficult to find in him that studied but concealed number and rhythmus, which some of the ancient critics are fond of attributing to him. Negligent of these lesser graces, one would rather conceive him to have aimed at that sublime which lies in sentiment. His action and pronunciation are recorded to have been uncommonly vehement and ardent: which, from the manner of his composition, we are led to believe. The character which one forms of him, from reading his works, is of the austere, rather tban the gentle kind. He is, on every occasion, grave, serious, passionate, taking every thing in a high tone; never lets himself down, nor attempts any thing like pleasantry. If any fault can. be found with his admirable eloquence, it is that he sometimes borders on the hard and dry. He may be thought to want smoothness and grace; which Dionysius of Halicarnassus attributes to his imitating too closely the manner of Thucydides, who was his great model for style. But these defects are far more than compensated, by that admirable and masterly force of masculine eloquence, which, as it overpowered all who heard it, cannot, at this day, be read without emotion.” However just this remark, it must be received with some limitation. No modern reader, and no modern nation can now be so affected with mere eloquence as to be sensible of the effects produced by that of Demosthenes, which after all, like the merits of a great player, must rest principally on historical evidence. Demosthenes is said to have composed sixty-five orations, of which a small proportion has reached our tirfies; nor has he been so fortunate in his editors as the majority of the classic writers. The best editions are those of Wolfius, Francfort, 1604, folio; of Taylor, vols. II. and III, Cambridge, 1748 57, 4to; the first volume never appeared; and of Reiske, Leipsic, 1770, 12 vols. 8vo. The best English translations are those of Dr. Leland and Mr. Francis.

, a French physician, but better known as an oculist, was born in 1702, and was the son of Anthony Demours, an apothecary at Marseilles, under whom he received the early part of his education, which was continued at Avignon, where he resided, until he had taken the degree of doctor, in 1728. He then removed to Paris, and was placed for two years under M. Du Verney, for the study of anatomy. On the death of Du Verney, he was associated with M. Chirac in the care of the cabinet of natural history, in the royal garden at Paris. Having bestowed niHch attention and many experiments on the structure of the eye, in 1741 he sent to the royal academy of sciences a memoir on the subject, in which he shews that the vitreous humour is of a cellular texture, and that the cells comii unicate with each other, circumstances which bad not been before observed. He now employed himself, almost exclusively, in attending to the diseases of the eye, and soon attracted so much notice as to be appointed oculist to the king. In 1767, he published “Retire q. M. Petit,” on the subject of a disease in the eyes, occurring in a patient who had been inoculated with the small-pox. As he had acquired a competent knowledge of the English language, he translated into French the Edinburgh medical essays, which he published at Paris, in eleven volumes, 12 mo, Baker’s Natural History of the Polypus, Hales’s account of a Ventilator, Ranby’s treatise of Gunshot Wounds, and several volumes of essays on medicine, and on natural history, taken frqm the Philosophical Transactions, which procured him to be elected one of the foreign members of the royal society. He had been before associated with the royal academy of sciences at Paris. Demours died June 26, 1795, aged ninety-three.

Two years after Dempster’s death, was published at Bologna, in 1627, in one volume 4to, from his manuscript, te Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Scotorum, Lib. XIX.“This work contains a very long list of Scottish saints, and accounts of some literary men; and, at the end of the book, a few particulars concerning Dempster himself were added by Matthaeus Peregrinus. But the disregard to truth which Dempster has displayed in this work, has justly exposed him to the censure of many writers, particularly Baillet, who says,” Thomas Dempster has given us an Ecclesiastical History of Scotland, in nineteen books, in which he speaks very much of the learned men of that country. But though he was in some respects an able man, he did not possess sound sense, or a solid judgment, nor was he very conscientious. He would have wished that all learned men had been Scotchmen. He forged the titles of books that never appeared in the world, in order to raise the glory of his country; and he committed several literary frauds, which have discredited him among men of learning.“Bishop Nicolson says that” Dempster reckons a great many writers of Scottish history, who are allowed to be counterfeits.“And sir James Ware remarks, that” Dempster, in his Catalogue of Scotch Authors, has not only inserted those of England and Wales, at his own pleasure; but, to prove his assertions, has also frequently quoted imaginary authors, and fictitious treatises, times, and places." Archbishop Usher repeatedly censures Dempster for his inventions and his falsehoods; and in one place speaks of it as being a practice of Dempster’s, to enumerate books which were never written, and that had no existence but in his own idle brain. Cave also speaks of Dempster with great contempt, on account of his fictions with respect to Scottish authors. Indeed, Dempster seems to have thought it highly meritorious to advance the grossest falsehoods, if those falsehoods would, in any degree, contribute to the honour of his country.

And brought many stationers, who swore very hard,

Was writ by a vicar, who had forty pounds for 't.

In 1647 he was entrusted by the queen with a message to the king, who was then in the hands of the army, and to whom he got admittance by the help of his acquaintance Hugh Peters; “which trust,” says he, in the dedication of his poems to Charles II. “I performed with great safety to the persons with whom we corresponded: but about nine months after, being discovered by their knowledge of Mr. Cowley’s hand, 1 happily escaped both for myself and them.” In April 1648 he conveyed away James duke of York into France, as Wood says; but Clarendon assures us, that the duke went off with colonel Bamfield only, who contrived the means of escape. Not long after, he was sent sent ambassador from Charles II. to the king of Poland; and William (afterwards lord) Crofts was joined in the embassy with him. Among his poems is one entitled, “On my lord Crofts’s and my journey into Poland, from whence we brought 10,000l. for his majesty, by the decimation (or tithing) of his Scottish subjects there.” About 1652 he returned to England; and, his paternal estate being greatly reduced by gaming and the civil wars, he was kindly entertained by lord Pembroke at Wilton; where, and sometimes at London, he continued with that nobleman above a year. At the restoration he entered upon the office of surveyor-general of all his majesty’s buildings; and at the coronation of the king, was created K. B. Wood pretends, that Charles I. had granted our poet the reversion of that place, after the decease of the famous Inigo Jones, who held it; but sir John himself, in the dedication of his poems, assures us, that Charles II. at his departure from St. Germain’s to Jersey, was pleased, freely, without his asking, to confer it upon him. After his promotion to tbis office, he gave over his poetical lines, and “made it his business,” he says, “to draw such others as might be more serviceable to his majesty, and, he hoped, more lasting.” Uponsome discontent arising from a second marriage, he had the misfortune to be deprived of his reason. Dr. Johnson notices a slight circumstance omitted by other writers, which is, that when our poet was thus afflicted, Butler lampooned him for his lunacy. “I know not,” adds the doctor, “whether the malignant lines were then made public; nor what provocation incited Butler to do what no provocation can excuse.” On his recovery, which was soon, he wrote his fine verses upon the death of Cowley; whom yet he survived but a few months; for he died at his office near Whitehall, which he had before built, March 1668, and was interred in Westminster-abbey, near Chaucer, Spenser, and Cowley. Sir John was an early member of the royal society.

“Denham,” says Dr. Johnson, “is deservedly considered as one of the fathers of English poetry. Denham and Waller, according to Prior, improved our versification, and D:yden perfected it. He appears to have had, in common with almost all mankind, the ambition of being upon proper occasions a merry fellow; and, in common with most of them, to have been by nature, or by early habits, debarred from it. Nothing is less exhilarating than the ludicrousness of Denham. He does not fail for want of efforts: he is familiar, he is gross; but he is never merry, unless the * Speech against Peace in the close Committee‘ be excepted. For grave burlesque, however, his imitation of Davenant shews him to have been well qualified. His poem on the death of Cowley was his last, and, among his shorter works, his best performance: the numbers are musical, and the thoughts are just. ’ Cooper’s Hill' is the work that confers upon him the rank and dignity of an original author. He seems to have been, at least among us, the author of a species of composition that may be denominated local poetry, of which the fundamental subject is some particular landscape, to be poetically described, with the addition of such embellishments as maybe supplied by histosical retrospectioi incidental meditation. To trace a new scheme of poetry has in itself a very high claim to praise, and its praise is yet more when it is apparently copied by Garth and Pope; after whose names little will be gained by an enumeration of smaller poets, that have left scarce a corner of the island undignified by rhyme, or blank verse. He appears to have been one of the first that understood the necessity of emancipating translation from the drudgery of counting lines and interpreting single words. How much this servile practice obscured the clearest and deformed the most beautiful parts of the ancient authors, may be discovered by a perusal of our earlier versions; some of them the works of men well qualified not only by critical knowledge, but by poetical genius; who yet, by a mistaken ambition of exactness, degraded at once their originals and themselves. Denham saw the better way, but has not pursued it wiih great success. His versions of Virgil are not pleasing: but they taught Dryden to please better. His poetical imitation of Tully on Old Age has neither the clearness of prose, nor the spriteliness of poetry.” Most of the lesser faults pointed out in Dr. Johnson’s critique “are in Denham’s first productions, when he was less skilful, or at least less dextrous in the use of words; and though they had been more frequent, they could only have lessened the grace, not the strength, of his composition. He is one of the writers that improved our taste, and advanced our language, and whom we ought therefore to read with gratitude, though, having done much, he left much to do.”

, D. D. an eminent divine and antiquary, descended from a family of good note in the county of Kent, was the eldest son of John Denne, gent, who had the place of woodreve to the see of Canterbury, by a patent for life from archbishop Tenison. He was born at Littlebourne, May 25, 1693, and brought up in the freeschools of Sandwich and Canterbury. He went thence to Cambridge, and was admitted of Corpus Christi college, under the tuition of Mr. Robert Dannye, Feb. 25, 1708; and was afterwards a scholar of the house upon archbishop Parker’s foundation. He proceeded B. A. in 1712; M. A. in 1716; and was elected fellow April 20, in the same year. Soon after, he took upon him the office of tutor, jointly with Mr. Thomas Herring, afterwards archbishop of Canterbury; and was ordained deacon on Trinity Sunday 1716, by bishop Trimnell; and priest Sept. 21, 1718. Not long afterwards he was nominated by the college to the perpetual cure of St. Benedict’s church, in Cambridge; whence he was preferred in 1721, to the rectory of Norton-Davy, alias Green’s Norton, in Northamptonshire, upon a presentation from the king; but this he exchanged, Sept. 30, 1723, for the vicarage of St. Leonard, Shoreditch, in London. In 1725 he was appointed preacher of Mr. Boyle’s lecture, and continued so for three years. His next promotion, immediately after taking the degree of D. D. was to the archdeaconry of Rochester, with the prebend annexed, being collated thereto July 22, 1728, by bishop Bradford, to whom he had been domestic chaplain for many years, and whose youngest daughter Susanna he married in 1724. He was instituted July 24, 1729, to the vicarage of St. Margaret’s, Rochester, but this he resigned, on taking possession of the rectory of Lambeth, Nov. 27, 1731, through the patronage of archbishop Wake. He died August 5, 1767, and was buried in the south transept of Rochester cathedral. His widow survived him upwards of thirteen years, dying on the 3d of December, 1780.

Like his father, much of his life was devoted to researches into ancient history and antiquities. The only publications of his not of this kind, were “A Letter to sir Robert Ladbroke, &,c. on the confinement of Criminals in separate apartments,” &c. 1771, and an anonymous pamphlet signed Rusticus, relative to the hardships experienced by the families of clergymen who happen to die just before the time of harvest. The “History and Antiquities of Rochester,” published by T. Fisher in 1772, was avowedly his compilation; and in 1795, he published “Historical particulars of Lambeth parish and Lambeth palace, in addition to the Histories of Dr. Ducarel in the Bibliotheca Topographica Britannica.” The works which he assisted by valuable contributions of essays, dissertations, &c. are the “Archacologia,” vols. VI. XIII.; Thorpe’s “Custumale Roffense;” Gough’s “Sepulchral Monuments;” Hasted’s Kent; “Biblioth. Topog. Britannica” Nichols’s “Illustrations of the Manners and Expences of ancient times in England” Atterbury’s “Epistolary Correspondence” the “Topographer;” Ellis’s “History of Shoreditch;” and the Gentleman’s Magazine, to which he was a very frequent contributor, from vol. XLI. to the time of his death; his signatures were T. Row, and W and D, the initials of his two livings Wilmington and Darent. Many of his as well as his father’s books, were illustrated with manuscript notes, and are now dispersed in various libraries One of these, a copy of Letsome’s “Preacher’s Assistant,” filled with additions by him and his father, is now in the possession of the rev. Robert Watts, librarian of Sion college, who is preparing a new edition of that very useful work.

, a portrait painter of considerable eminence, for minuteness of labour at least, if not of genius, was born at Hamburgh in 1685, and after studying his art at Altena and Dantzic, improved himself by copying the best pictures in the latter city, and also studied diligently after living models. His first great attempt was the portrait of Duke Christian Augustus, administrator of Holstein Gottorp, which he executed in miniature with such success as to establish his credit at that court, where he also painted, in one very large picture, twenty-one portraits of the family of that prince, and introduced his own. He was principally employed by the princes of Germany; and the king of Denmark, and George I. having seen some of his works at Hanover, promised to sit to him, if he would come over to England Denner accordingly arrived here, but succeeded so ill in the pictures of two of the king’s favourite German ladies, that he did not obtain the footing he had expected at court. His fame, however, rose very high, on his exhibiting the head of an “Old Woman,” that he brought over with him, about sixteen inches high, and thirteen wide, in which the grain of the skin, the hairs, the down, the glassy humour of the eyes, were represented with the most exact minuteness; but it gained him more applause than custom, for a man could not execute many works who employed so much time to finish them. The emperor of Germany, however, gave him six hundred ducats for the picture. He finished here an “Old Man,” as a companion to it, which he had begun at Hamburgh; and also painted himself, his wife, and children, with the same circumstantial detail. Mr. Fuseli very justly remarks of him that he was born to be a fac-similist, and not a painter. With the most anxious transcription of parts, he missed the whole, and that air of life which is the result of imitation. He left England in 1728, and died, probably in his native country, in 1747. His “Old Woman” has been exhibited, or a copy from it, within these few years in London. Lord Orford adds that “the portrait of John Frederic Weichman of Hamburgh, painted by him, is said to be in the Bodleian library at Oxford.” But in the catalogue of pictures there, this is stated to have been painted as well as given by Weichman himself.

, a poet, a political writer, and a critic, was born in the city of London in 1657. His father was a sadler, and a citizen of reputation who determining to give him a liberal education, sent him to Harrow-on-theHill, where he received his grammatical instruction under Dr. William Horn, a school-master in high esteem for piety and literature. In the eighteenth year of his age he was removed to the university of Cambridge, where he was entered of Caius college, January 13, 1675, and continued there till he took his bachelor’s degree in 1679; after which he became a member of Trinity-hall, and in 1683, was admitted to the degree of master of arts. It is related, by the author of the Biographia Dramatica, that he was expelled from college, for literally attempting to stab a person in the dark, which, has been since confirmed by Dr. Farmer, by an extract from the Gesta book of Caius college: by this it appears that he was expelled March 4, 1680, for assaulting and wounding one Glenham with a sword. This accounts for his removing to Trinity hall.

In 1704, our author brought out a tragedy, entitled “Liberty asserted,” the scene of which is laid at Agnie (which name, he says, for the sake of a better sound, he has altered to Angie) in Canada; and the plot is an imagined one, from the wars carried on among the Indian nations. In the dedication to Anthony Henley, esq. Mr. Dennis owns himself to be indebted to that gentleman for “the happy hint upon which it was formed.” This was by far the most successful of all our author’s dramatic productions; having been represented many times at Lincoln’s-inn Fields with very great applause. This was probably owing, in a considerable degree, not to its own merit, but to the abuse which is plentifully scattered through it upon the French nation, which, during a season of war, was congenial to the feelings of the auditory. Its success, however, produced an odd effect on Dennis’s imagination, which was never well regulated. Thinking that the severity of the strokes against the French could never be forgiven, and consequently, that Louis XIV. would not consent to a peace with England, unless be was delivered up a sacrifice to national resentment, he carried this apprehension so far that when the congress for the peace at Utrecht was in agitation, he waited on the duke of Marlborough, who had formerly been his patron, to entreat his interest with the plenipotentiaries, that they should not consent to his being given up. With great gravity the duke informed him, that he was sorry it was out of his power to serve him, as at that time he had no connexion with the ministry, adding, that he fancied his case not to be quite so desperate as he seemed to imagine; for that, indeed, he had taken no care to get himself excepted in the articles of peace; and yet he could not help thinking that he had done the French almost as much damage as even Mr. Dennis. Another instance of our author’s terror, arising from his selfimportance, is thus related. Having been invited down to a gentleman’s house on the coast of Sussex, where he was very kindly entertained, as he was walking one day near the beach, he saw a ship sailing, as he imagined, towards him. Upon this, supposing that he was betrayed, he immediately made the best of his way to London, without even taking leave of his host, whom he believed to have been concerned in the plot against him, and to have decoyed him to his house, with no other view than to give notice to the French, who had fitted out a vessel on purpose to carry him off, if he had not luckily discovered their design.

Mr. Dennis’s next dramatic attempt was in a comedy, entitled “Gibraltar, or the Spanish Adventure;” and which was performed in 1705, at the theatre royal in Drury-lane; but without success. “Orpheus and Eurydice,” a masque, which was produced by our author in 1707, does not appear to have been acted. It is printed in the “Muse’s Mercury,” for the month of February in that year. In 1709, Mr. Dennis brought upon the stage, at Drury-lane, “Appius and Virginia,” a tragedy, which was not very successful; but is remarkable for a circumstance little connected with its literary merit. Dennis, expressly for the use of this play, had invented a new species of thunder, which was approved of by the actors, and is the sort at present used in the theatre. Some nights after his tragedy had been laid aside, Dennis being in the pit at the representation of Macbeth, heard his own thunder made use of; upon which he rose in a violent passion, and exclaimed, with an oath, that it was, his thunder. “See,” said he, “how these rascals use me They will not let my play run and yet they steal my thunder” Our author’s last dramatic production was “Coriolanus, the Invader of his country; or, The Fatal Resentment;” a tragedy, altered from Shakspeare’s Coriolanus. After it had been represented three nights, the managers Wilks, Cibber, and Booth, who were not satisfied with the profits derived from it, to the astonishment and indignation of Mr. Dennis, gave out another play for the next evening. Upon this he published his tragedy, with a dedication to the duke of Newcastle, at that time lord chamberlain of his majesty’s household, in which he has given full scope to his resentment against the patentees, and especially against Mr. Cibber. The last gentleman, instead of the author’s epilogue, had substituted one of his own, which was spoken by Mrs. Oldfield, an additional cause of offence to our poet, who, in an advertisement, has represented it as a wretched medley of impudence and nonsense; and, indeed, it does not appear to be entitled to commendation. Dennis, as already noticed, derived some fortune from an uncle; but that was probably spent in a little time. As he wrote for government when the whigs were in power, and was patronised by lord Halifax, there can be no doubt but that he occasionally received pecuniary gratifications, either from the bounty or through the interest of that nobleman. For his poem on the battle of Blenheim the duke of Marlborough rewarded him with a present of a hundred guineas. But, previously to the writing of that poem, he had experienced his grace’s patronage in a much more important instance; for the duke had procured for him the place of a waiter at the Custom-house, worth a hundred and twenty pounds a year. This office he held for six years; during which he managed his affairs with so little discretion, that, in order to discharge some pressing demands, he was obliged to dispose of his waitership. The earl of Halifax, having heard of his design, sent for him, and, in the most friendly manner, expostulated with him wpon the folly and rashness of disposing of his place, by which his lordship told him that he would soon become i beggar. In reply, our author represented the exigencies? to which he was reduced, and the importunate nature of the demands that were made upon him. The ear), however, insisted, that, if he must sell his place, he should reserve to himst-If an annuity out of it for a considerable term of years; such a term as his lordship thought Mr. Dennis was not likely to survive; yet this he did survive, and was exposed in his old age to great poverty. With such a disposition as Mr. Dennis possessed, it is not surprizing that he was often liable to arrests from his creditors. An instance of sir Richard Steele’s friendship to him in this respect he is said to have ill-repaid. Sir Richard, if the story be true, once became bail for him, and afterwards was arrested on his account; but, when he heard of it, he only exclaimed, “'Sdeath! why did he not keep out of the way, as I did?” In the latter part of our poet’s life, he resided within the verge of the court, for the security of his person, but one Saturday night, he happened to saunter to a public-house, which, in a short time, he discovered to be out of the verge. As he was sitting in an open drinking-room, a man of a suspicious appearance entered, about whom Mr. Dennis imagined there was something that denoted him to be a bailiff. Being seized with a panic, he was afraid that his liberty was now at an end, and sat in the utmost solicitude, but durst not offer to stir, lest he should be seized upon. After an hour or two had passed in this painful anxiety, at last the clock struck twelve; when Mr. Dennis, addressing himself to the suspected person, cried out in an extacy, “Now, sir, bailiff or no bailiff, I don't care a farthing for you you have no power now.” The man was astonished at his behaviour; and, when it was explained to him, was so much affronted with the suspicion, that, had not our author been protected by his age, he would probably have taken personal revenge.

In 1706 our author published “An Essay on the Operas, after the Italian manner, which are about to be established on the English Stage; with some reflections on the damage which they may bring to the public.” His opinions here iiad been adopted by the most eminent writers of the time, who had some cause for resentment in the cold reception that had been given to the English drama. Our author declares, however, in his preface, that his treatise is only levelled against those operas which are entirely musical; since those which are dramatical may be partly defended by the examples of the ancients. Another of Mr. Dennis’s critical publications, but of what date we are not able to ascertain, is preserved in his select works, “The Grounds of Criticism in Poetry,” a sequel to the sentiments which he had maintained in his “Advancement and Reformation of modern Poetry.” Here he again insists upon the immense scope which religion affords for poetic excellence. Under the word religion he includes the whole system of supernatural machinery, the introduction of superior beings, and all the noble fictions, sentiments, addresses, and images, that may be derived from the knowledge of revelation. In the beginning of 1711 our author produced another tract, which added farther to his reputation as a critic; his three “Letters on the Genius and Writings of Shakspeare,” in which he has drawn the poetical character of our immortal dramatist with sagacity and judgment; and has strongly supported the opinion of Shakspeare’s learning, which has since more decisively been maintained by Dr. Farmer.

Thus far Mr. Dennis pursued his critical inquiries without giving any peculiar offence. He might, indeed, occasionally deliver with freedom his sentiments concerning the writings of his contemporaries, and in some few instances might express himself with severity. But still he did not run into such excesses as to bring on any material personal controversy, until in 1711, soon after the commencement of the Spectator, he entered into a contest with Addison, Steele, and Pope. He imagined himself to be attacked so early as in the second or third number of that paper; and was particularly displeased with the thirty-ninth and fortieth numbers, in which a doctrine was advanced, with regard to poetical justice, very different from what he had always maintained. Accordingly, he addressed a letter to the Spectator on the subject, at the conclusion of which he says, “Thus I have discussed the business of poetical justice, and shewn it to be the foundation of all tragedy; and therefore, whatever persons, whether ancient or mo dern, have written dialogues which they call tragedies, where this justice is not observed, those persons have entertained and amused the world with romantic lamentable tales, instead of just tragedies, and or' lawful fables.” That our critic was extremely anxious in support of this point, is apparent from several other parts of his works. He has particularly insisted upon it in a letter to sir Richard Blackmore on the moral and conclusion of an epic poem; and has certainly conducted his argument with great ingenuity. Another opportunity which the Spectator afforded Mr. Dennis for the exercise of his critical skill, was by the illustrations in the seventieth and seventy-fourth numbers of the ballad of Chevy Chase, though the subject was scarcely important enough to deserve an elaborate discussion of nearly thirty pages. A farther attack upon the Spectator was particularly levelled at sir Richard Steele. That gentleman, it is said, had promised our critic to take some opportunity of mentioning his works in public with advantage, and thereby of promoting his reputation. It however unfortunately happened, that Mr, Addison, who perhaps knew nothing of sir Richard’s engagement, quoted, in his paper upon Laughter, the two following lines, which he calls humourous and well-expressed, from Mr. Dennis’s translation of a satire of Boileau’s:

In 1713, Mr. Addison’s Cato was produced upon the stage with a degree of applause, which, we believe, was never before given to any dramatic composition. But though the play was acted in the cause of whiggism, and Dennis himself was so zealous a whig, he could not bear the success with which it was attended. That in this hewas actuated by personal animosity, cannot be denied; since it is acknowledged by himself, in a letter to the duke of Buckingham, that the motive which induced him to write his remarks upon Cato was, his having been attacked in several numbers of the Spectator. His principle of action we condemn; but the abilities with which he has executed his purpose are unquestionable, “He found,” says Dr. Johnson, “and shewed many faults: he shewed them, indeed, with anger; but he found them with acutejncss, such as ought to rescue his criticism from oblivion;” and Dr. Johnson has thought a large extract from this pamphlet worthy of transcription into his Life of Add son, who himself maintained a profound silence. Pope, however, took upon him to avenge his cause, in a pamphlet entitled “The Narrative of Dr. Robert Norris, concerning the strange and deplorable frenzy of Mr. John Dennis, an officer in the custom house,” a piece of humour which does little credit to Pope’s heart, and must excite the disapprobation of every benevolent mind. Pope, however, left Dennis’s objections to Cato in their full force, “and therefore discovered more desire of vexing the critic, than of defending the poet. Addison, who was no stranger to the world,” says Dr. Johnson, “probably saw the selfishness of Pope’s friendship; and resolving that he should have the consequences of his officiousness to himself, informed Dennis by Steele, that he was sorry for the insult; and that whenever he should think fit to answer his remarks, he would do it in a manner to which nothing could be objected.” Mr. Dennis, having been successful in displaying the faults of Cato, with regard to the probability of the action, and the reasonableness of the plan, proceeded, in the pride of conquest, to attack the sentiments of the play in seven letters. But here his strictures are, in general, trifling and insignificant; containing such petty cavils, and minute objections, as the malignity of criticism, united with some degree of sagacity, might be capable of exercising against the most perfect productions of the human mind.

The relief which Mr. Dennis obtained by these publications, though considerable, was not permanent. Being much distressed very near the close of his life, it was proposed to act a play for his benefit, and Thomson, Mallet, Mr. Benjamin Martin, and Pope, took the lead upon the occasion. The play, which was “The Provoked Husband,” was represented at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket, December 18, 1733; and Pope wrote a prologue, which was spoken by Theophilus Cibber. Dennis had at this time become blind; Mr. Pope’s benevolence was not so pure as could be wished; for his prologue was throughout a sneer upon the poor old critic, who happily, either from vanity, or the decay of his intellects, did not perceive its tendency. Warburton styled it “benevolent irony.” Mr. Dennis survived this assistance only twenty days, dying on the 6th of January, 1733-4, in the seventyseventh year of his age.

, knt. one of the gentlemen of the privy chamber to king Henry VIII., was the second son of Thomas Denny, of Cheshunt, in the county of Hertford, esq. by Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Mannock. He had his education in St. Paul’s school, London, under the celebrated grammarian Lilly; and afterwards in St. John’s college, Cambridge; in both which places he so improved himself, that he became an excellent scholar, as well as a person of great worth. His merit having made him known at court, he was constituted by Henry VIII. one of the gentlemen of the bed-chamber, groom of the stole, and a privy counsellor; and likewise received the honour of knighthood from that prince; with whom being in great favour, he raised a considerable estate on the ruins of the dissolved monasteries. In 1537, Henry gave him the priory of Hertford, together with divers other lands and manors; and in 1539, Dec. 15, the office of steward of the manor of Bedwell and Little Berkhamstead, in Herts; besides which sir Anthony also obtained the manor of Buttenvick, in the parish of St. Peter in St. Alban’s, the manors of the rectory and of the nunnery, in the parish of Cheshunt; and of Great Amwell, all in the county of Hertford. In 1541, there was a large grant made to him by act of parliament, of several lands that had belonged to the abbey of St. Alban’s, lately dissolved; and not content with all this, he found means to procure a thirty-one years’ lease of the many large and rich demesnes that had been possessed by Waltham-abbey, in Essex; of which his lady purchased aftenvards the reversion. In 1544 the king gave him the advantageous wardship of Margaret, the only daughter and heir of Thomas lord Audley, deceased. On the 31st of August, 1546, he was commissioned, with John Gate and William Clerk, esquires, to sign all warrants in the king’s name. Though somewhat rapacious, he was liberal; in this reign he did eminent service to the great school of Sedberg in Yorkshire, belonging to the college wherein he had received his education; the building being fallen to decay, and the lands appropriated thereto sold and embezzled, he caused the school to be repaired, and not only recovered, but also settled the estate so firmly, as to prevent all future alienations. He was also a more faithful servant than his brother courtiers, for when Henry VIII. was on his death-bed, he had the courage to put him in mind of his approaching end, and desired him to raise his thoughts to heaven, to think of his past life, and to call on God for mercy through Jesus Christ. So great an opinion had that capricious monarch of him, that he appointed him one of the executors of his will, and one of the counsellors to his son and successor Edward VI. and hequeathed him a legacy of 300l. He did not live long after this; for he died in 1.550. By his wife Joan, daughter of sir Philip Champeruon, of Modbury, in Devonshire, a lady of great beauty and parts, he had six children; of whom, Henry, the eldest, was father of Edward Denny, knighted in 1589, summoned to parliament in 1605, and advanced Oct. 24, 1626, to the dignity of earl of Norwich. Of sir Anthony Denny’s personal character, one of his contemporaries informs us, that his whole time and cares were employed about religion, learning, and the care of the public, and has highly commended him for his prudence and humanity. He was the early friend and patron of Matthew Parker, afterwards archbishop of Canterbury. The learned Henry Howard, earl of Surrey, wrote an excellent epitaph for him some years before his decease; tfnd sir John Cheke, who had a great esteem for him, honoured his memory with an elegant heroic poem.

, was born at Nicosia, in the island of Cyprus, of one of the principal families in that country, and which, according to his account, was originally from Normandy. When Cyprus was taken by the Turks in 1570, he lost all his property, and retired into Italy, where he had before made some stay; and, settling at Padua, was appointed professor of moral philosophy, 1577. He died in that city, 1590, of grief, occasioned by the banishment of his only son, who had killed a noble Venetian in a quarrel. Denores was well acquainted with the peripatetic philosophy, and had a superstitious veneration for Aristotle. He engaged in a dispute with Guarini about pastoral tragi-comedies, and published a great number of his own works; some in Latin, some in Italian. Possevin esteems his rhetoric. His Italian works are, “Poetica,” Padua, 1588, 4to; “Dell'ottima republica,” Venice, 1578, 4to, which he models by that of Venice. “Del Mondo,” Venice, 1571, 8vo; “Delia Retorica,” Venice, 1584, 4to. His Latin works are, “Institutio in Philosuphiam Ciceronis,” Patavii, 1576, 8vo; “De arte dicendi,” Venetiis,“1553, 8vo; Parisiis, 1554, 8vo.” De Constitutione Philosophise Aristotelis,“Patavii, 1584, 4to and” In Epistolam Q. Horatii de Avte Poetica," Venice, 1553, 8vo Paris, 1554, 8vo, the first and preferable edition, but both are very rare.

, an English divine, author of some small controversial pieces, was born in 1625, and educated at Clare-hall, Cambridge, and was admitted sizar and pupil to Mr. David Clarkson, on the 4th of May, 1646, as appears from the register of the college. He was ejected by the act of uniformity in 1662, from the living of Oswaldkirk, near Helmsley, in Yorkshire, and not from that of Bolton, as Dr. Calamy affirms in his account, p. 818, who has rectified that mistake in his Continuation, p. 950, though, as it seems, without knowing that it was a mistake, it being indeed Mr. Nathan, and not Mr. John Denton, who was ejected from Bolton upon Dearn, or more properly Darwent. Mr. John Denton afterwards conformed; and being re-ordained by Dr. Thomas Barlow, bishop of Lincoln, was collated to the living of Stonegrave, within two miles of Osvvaldkirk, and a prebend of the church of York, both which he held till his death, January 4, 1708, in the eighty-third year of his age, as is evident from the inscription on his tomb-stone in the church of Stonegrave, in which living he was succeeded by his son, Mr. Robert Denton, who was educated at Catherine-hall, in Cambridge, and died about 1748. Mr. John Denton having contracted an intimate friendship with Mr. Tillotson, at Clare-hall, they kept up a constant correspondence during his grace’s life.

, a clergyman who is entitled to a place in this Dictionary, as having been a contributor to the first edition of it, was born at Sebergbam, in Cumberland, of an ancient family, in 1724, and was educated under the rev. Josiah Ralph, of whose poems he superintended a handsome edition published by subscription. From school he went to Queen’s-college, Oxford, when be took his master’s degree June 16, 1752. On leaving college, he became curate to the rev. Dr. Graham, of Netherby, at Arthuret, and Kirkandrews; and here he printed a local poem, entitled “Gariston,” which is now scarce a as he only circulated a few copies among his friends. In 1753, Dr. Graham removed him to be his curate at Ashted, in Surrey, in which living, upon the doctor’s resignation, Mr. Demon succeeded him. He died here June 27, 1777, leaving three sons and four daughters. As he had had no opportunity to make much provision for this family, the late lord Suffolk generously gave his widow the next presentation to the living, which bounty was so well managed by a judicious friend, as to secure a very comfortable annuity to her and her children. Mr. Denton was a man of unassuming, modest manners; serene and placid, rather than cheerful; and a facetious man, rather than a man of humour. In discharging the duties of his profession, he was exemplarily decent, and his parishioners loved him when living, and lamented him dead. Early in life he reformed, and published a very useful manual of devotions, entitled “Religions retirement for one day in every month,” from the original of Gother, a popish writer. This he undertook “to free from the peculiarities of the Romish church, and to fit it for the use of Protestants.” He is, however, better known by two well-written poems, “Immortality, or the Consolation of human life, a Monody,” printed separately in 4to, 1755, and afterwards reprinted in Dodsley’s Collection; and “The House of Superstition,” a vision, 1762, 4to, afterwards prefixed by Mr. Gilpin to his “Lives of the Reformers.” In both he has proved himself no unsuccessful imitator of the style of Spenser. He also compiled the supplemental volume to the first edition of the Biographical Dictionary, in which the lives are given with equal candour and accuracy.

D‘Kon (Chevalier de). This extraordinary person, who is styled in the register of St. Pancras, where he was buried, Charles Genevieve Louise Auguste Andre Timothee D’Eon de Beaumont, is now known to have been the son of a gentleman of an ancient and respectable family at Tonnerre in Burgundy, where he was born Oct. 2, 1728. Although the register of his baptism, which bears date Oct. 5, distinctly states the child to have been a male, some have conceived that the sex was originally doubtful, and that family reasons induced the parents, who had not long before the birth of the chevalier lost their then only son, to educate the infant as one of that sex to which nature eventually proved that he belonged. In the early part of his life, he was educated under his father’s roof, whence at the age of thirteen, he was removed to the Mazarin college at Paris. He had scarcely finished his studies, when the sudden death of his father, and of an uncle from whom the family had great expectations, left him doubly an orphan, and threw him on the world dependent on his own exertions for advancement. He was, however, at this period fortunate in obtaining the patronage of the prince de Conti, who had long known and esteemed his father, and by the prince’s means was introduced to Louis XV. who presented him with a cornetcy of dragoons. Soon after this b'Eon was placed in the onHce of mons. Bertier de Savigny, intendant of the generalit of Paris, where he gave great satisfaction to his superiors, by the industry and talent he displayed in the office, and gained considerable credit by one or two small publications on finance.

In 1755 he was employed under the chevalier Douglas, in transacting a negociation of the most delicate and important nature at the court of Petersburg!), by which, after many years suspension of all intercourse, a reconciliation was effected between the courts of France and Russia. After some years residence at Petersburg!], D‘Eon joined his regiment, then serving under marshal Broglio on the Rhine, and during the campaign of 1762, acted as aid-ducamp to that celebrated olKcer. When the duke de Nivernois came over to England, as ambassador, to negociate the peace of 1763, D’Eon appeared as his secretary; and so far procured the sanction of the government of England, that he was requested to carry over the ratiticat.on of the treaty between the British court and that of Versailles, in consequence of which the French king invested him with the order of St. Louis. He had also behaved, in the character of secretary, so much to the satisfaction of the duke, that that nobleman, upon his departure for France, in May 1763, procured D‘Eon to be appointed minister-pleriiputeutiary in his room. In October following, however, the count de Guerchy having arrived here as ambassador from the court of Versailles, the chevalier received orders, or rather was requested, to act as secretary or assistant to the new ambassador. This, we are told, mortified him to such a degree, that, asserting that the letter of recall, which accompanied it, was a forgery, he refused to deliver it; and by this step drew on himself the censure of his court. On this, either with a view of exculpating himself, or from a motive of revenge, he published a succinct account of all the negociations in which he had been engaged, exposed some secrets of the French court, and rather than spare. his enemies, revealed some things greatly to the prejudice of his best friends. Among other persons very freely treated in this publication was the count de Guerchy, for which D’Eon was prosecuted and convicted in the court of King’s Bench, in July 1764. It was but natural that this conduct should draw down the resentment of the court of France, and the chevalier either feared or affected to fear the greatest danger to his person. Reports were spread, very probahly by himself, that persons were sent over here to apprehend him secretly, and carry him to France. On this occasion he wrote four letters, complaining of these designs, as known to him by undoubted authority. The one he sent to lord chief justice Mansfield, the second to the earl of Bute, the third to earl Temple, and the fourth to Mr Pitt. Of these personages he requested to know, whether, as he had contracted no debt, and behaved himself in all things as a dutiful subject, he might not kill the first man who should attempt to arrest him, &c. In March 1764 he took a wiser step to provide for his safety, if there had been any cause for his fears, by indicting the count de Guerchy for a conspiracy against his life, but this came to nothing; and the chevalier, not having surrendered himself to the court of King’s-bench to receive judgment for the libel on the count de Guerchy, was, in June 1765, declared outlawed. The chevalier, however, still continued in England until the death of Louis XV.

About the year 1771, certain doubts respecting his sex, which had previously been started at Petersburgh, became the topic of conversation, and, as usual in this country, the subject of betting; and gambling policies ef assurance to a large amount were effected on his sex; and in 1775, more policies on the same question were effected. In July 1777, an action was brought on one of these before lord Mansfield. The plaintiff was one Hayes, a surgeon, and the defendant Jaques a broker, for the recovery of 700l.; Jacques having some time before received premiums of fifteen guineas per cent, for every one of which he stood engaged to return an hundred, whenever it should be proved that the chevalier was a woman. Two persons, Louis Le Goux, a surgeon, and de Morande, the editor of a French newspaper, positively swore that D'Eon was a woman. The defendant’s counsel pleaded that the plaintiff, at the time of laying the wager, was privy to the fact, and thence inferred that the wager was unfair. Lord Mansfield, however, held that the wager was fair, but expressed his abhorrence of the whole transaction. No attempt having been made to contradict the evidence of the chevalier’s being a woman, which is now known to be false, Hayes obtained a verdict with costs. But the matter was afterwards solemnly argued before lord Mansfield in the court of King’s-bench, and the defendant pleading a late act of parliament for non-payment, it was admitted to be binding, by which decision all the insurers in this shameful transaction were deprived of their expected gains. In the mean time, the chevalier, who was now universally regarded as a woman, was accused by his enemies as having been an accomplice in these gambling transactions, and a partaker of the plunder. In consequence of repeated attacks of this nature he left England in August 1777, having previously asserted in a newspaper his innocence of the fraud, and referred to a former notice, inserted by him in the papers in 1775, in which he had cautioned all persons concerned not to pay any sums due on the policies which had been effected on the subject of his sex, and declared that he would controvert the evidence exhibited on the above trial, if his master should give him leave to return to England. It is in vain now to inquire why he should delay for a moment disproving what a moment would have been sufficient to disprove.

In 1785 he returned to England, where he continued to reside till his death. He was deprived of his pension in consequence of the French revolution, although in June 1792, he presented a petition to the national assembly (as madame D‘Eon) desiring to be employed in their service as a soldier, to have his seniority in the army, and permission to raise a legion of volunteers for the service of his country. This petition was probably disregarded, as he remained in England, where his circumstances became embarrassed. For a few years he gained a subsistence by the sale of part of his effects, and by a public exhibition of his skill in fencing, which was the greater object of curiosity, from the general belief that it was a female performance. When incapable of these exertions by years and infirmities, ho was relieved by occasional contributions. For the two last years, he scarcely ever quitted his bed, his health gradually declined, and at length an extreme state of debility ensued, which terminated in his death, May 21, 1810. Immediately after, the corpse being examined by professional gentlemen and others, was discovered to be that of a man, yet it is said that there were peculiarities in his person which rendered the doubts that had so long subsisted respecting his sex the less extraordinary, and appeared to have given facility to his occasional assumption of the female character before his final adoption of it. He had assumed the female character at Petersburg!! for the purposes of political intrigue about the year 1750, when only twenty-two years of age, and had occasionally adopted it during his first residence in England; but it may be doubted whether all this will be sufficient to explain the mysteries of the chevalier’s conduct, or the more strange conduct of the court of France. The chevalier D’Eon, who was distinguished as a scholar, and was well acquainted with the ancient and most of the modern languages, had a very valuable library, part of which he sold for the roller' of his necessities, and part has been sold since his death. His works according to the Diet. Historique are: l. “JMemoires,” 8vo and 4to, relative to his disputes with the count de Guerchy. 2. “Histoire des Papes.” 3. “Histoire politique.de la Pologne.” 4. “Recherches sur les royaumesde Naples etdeSicile.” 5. “Recherches sur le Commerce et la Navigation.” 6. “Pensees sur le Celibat, et les maux qu'il cause a la France,” against the celibacy of the French clergy. 7. “Memoires sur la Rus-sie ct son Commerce avcc les Anglois.” 8. “Histoire d'Eudoxie Feeclerona.” 9. “Observations sur le royaimie d'Angleterre, son government, ses grands officiers,” &c. 10. “Details sur l‘Ecosse, sur les possessions de l’Angleterre en Amerique.” 11. “Sur la regie de bles en France, les mendians, les domains des rois,” c. 12. “Details sur toutes les Parties des Finances de France.” 13. “Situation de la France dans Plnde avant la paix de 1763.” 14. “Loisirs du Chevalier D'Eon,” 1775, 13 vols. 8vo, a brief statistical account or' the principal countries in Europe. He left behind some Mss. among which are ample materials for a life of himself. These are now in the hands of a gentleman who is preparing them for publication, and who communicated some particulars to Mr. Lysons, of which we have partly availed ourselves in this sketch. This intended biographer concludes a very favourable character of the chevalier in these words: “In religion, Mons. D‘Eon was a sincere catholic, but divested of all bigotry: few were so well acquainted with the biblical writings, or devoted more time to the study of religious subjects. The shades in his character were, the most inflexible tenacity of disposition, and a great degree of pride and self-opinion; a general distrust and suspicion of others; and a violence of temper which could brook no opposition. To these ’failings may be traced the principal misfortunes of his life; a life in which there was much labour and suffering, mixed with very little repose.” The French editor of his life, in noticing the poverty in which he died, adds, that it does him the more honour as he had refused the offers of the English government to turn their manifestoes against his country into French.

, an excellent philosopher and divine, was born at Stoughton near Worcester, Nov. 26, 1657; and educated in grammar-learning at Ulockley in. that county. In May 1675 he was admitted of Trinity college, Oxford and when he took his degree of B. A. was already distinguished for his learning and exemplary character. He was ordained deacon by Compton bishop of London, in May 1681; priest by Ward bishop of Salisbury, in July 1682; and was the same month presented to the vicarage of Wargrave in Berkshire. August 1689, he was presented to the valuable rectory of Upminster in Essex: which living, lying at a moderate distance from London, afforded him an opportunity of conversing and corresponding with the most eminent philosophers of the nation. Here in a retirement suitable to his contemplative and philosophical temper, he applied himself with great eagerness to the study of nature, and to mathematics and experimental philosophy; in which he became so eminent, that in 1702 he was chosen F. R. S. He proved one of the most useful and industrious members of this society, frequently publishing in the Philosophical Transactions curious observations and valuable pieces, as may be seen by their Index. In his younger years he published separately, “The artificial Clock-maker; or, a treatise of watch and clock-work, shewing to the meanest capacities the art of calculating numbers to all sorts of movements; the way to alter clock-work; to make chimes, and set them to musical notes; and to calculate and correct the motion of pendulums. Also numbers for divers movements: with the ancient and modern history of clockwork; and many instruments, tables, and other matters, never before published in any other book.” The fourth edition of this book, with large emendations, was published in 1734, 12mo. In 1711 and 1712 he preached “Sixteen Sermons” at Boyle’s lectures; which, with suitable alterations in the form, and notes, he published in 1713 under the title “Physico-theology; or, a demonstration of the beine: and attributes of God from his works of creation,” 8vo. In pursuance of the same design, he published, in 1714, “Astro-theology or, a demonstrationof the being and attributes of God from a survey of the heavens,” illustrated with copper-plates, 8vo. These works, the former especially, have been highly and justly valued, translated into French and several other languages, and have undergone several editions. In 1716 he was made a canon of Windsor, being at that time chaplain to the prince of Wales; and in 1730 received the degree of D. D. from the university of Oxford by diploma, on account of his learning, and the services he had done to religion by his culture of natural knowledge “Ob libros,” as the terms of the diploma run, “ab ipso editos, quibus physicam & mathesin auctiorem reddidit, & ad religionem veramque fidem exornandam revocavit.” When Eleazer Albin published his natural history of birds and English insects, in 4 vols. 4to, with many beautiful cut?, it was accompanied with very curious notes and observations by our learned author. He also revised the “Miscellanea Curiosa,” published in three volumes, 1726, 8vo. He next published “Christo-theology or, a demonstration of the divine authority of the Christian religion, being the substance of a sermon preached at Bath, Nov. 2, 1729, and published at the earnest request of the auditory, 1730,” 8vo. The last work of his own composition was “A Defence of the Churches right in Leasehold Estates. In answer to a book called ‘An Inquiry into the customary estates and TenantRights of those who hold lands of the Church and other Foundations,’ published under the name of Everard Fleetwood, esq.” 1731, 8vo. But, besides his own, he published some pieces of Mr. Ray, and gave new editions of others, with great additions from the author’s own Mss. To him the world is likewise indebted for the “Philosophical Experiments and observations of the late eminent Dr. Robert Hooke, and other eminent virtuosos in his time, 1726,” 8vo; and he communicated to the royal society several pieces, which he received from his learned correspondents.

, a puritan divine of the sixteenth century, was a native of the county of Kent, and related to the Derings of Surrenden. He was educated at Christ’s college, Cambridge, of which he was chosen fellow ia 1668, and then took his degree of bachelor of divinity. The year before, according to Mr. Cole, he was admitted lady Margaret’s professor of divinity. He was also one of the preachers at St. Paul’s, and in 1569 obtained the rectory of Pluckley in the diocese of Canterbury, and became chaplain to the duke of Norfolk. On Dec. 20, 1571, he was presented by the queen to the prebend of Chardstoke in the cathedral of Salisbury. He was much celebrated for his eloquence in the pulpit, and for his general learning and acuteness as a disputant, of which last he gave a proof, in a work written against the popish Dr. Harding, entitled “A Sparing Restraint of many lavish Untruths,” &c. 1568, 4to. But at length he not only adopted the sentiments of Cartwright and others on the subject of habits and ceremonies, but contended in the pulpit for the entire change of church government by bishops, &c. for which he was, after a long examination and controversy, suspended from preaching in 1573. Strype has given a particular account of his prosecution and answers. He died June 26, 1576, lamented for his piety and usefulness. But he appears to have carried his resistance to the established religion to a greater height than most of his brethren, and did not spare the queen herself. Once when preaching before her majesty, he told her, that when she was persecuted by queen Mary, her motto was tanquam ovis (“like a sheep”), but now it might be tanquam indomita juvjenca (“like an untamed heifer”). The queen, however, retained so much of her milder character as only to forbid his preaching at court; to which Neal, who quotes Fuller for this anecdote, adds that “he lost all his preferments in the church,” although no such words are to be found in Fuller. His principal works are, 1. a A Lecture or Exposition upon a part of the fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, as it was read in St. Paul’s, Dec. 6, 1572,“Lond. 1581, Itnno. This work was extended to” Twenty-seven Lectures or Readings upon part of that Epistle,“1576. 2.” A Sermon preached before the Queen’s Majesty, Feb. 25, 1569,“Lond. 1584. 3.” A Sermon preached at the Tower of London, Dec. 11, 1569,“ibid. 158-k These three are noticed, with extracts, in the Bibliographer, vol. I. 4.” Certain godly and comfortable Letters, full of Christian consolation," &c. no date, 4to, all which, with some other tracts of Dering’s, were collected and printed in one vol. 8vo, by Field in 1595. His correspondence with lord Burleigh may be seen in Strype’s Annals.

, a young man who acquired a short-lived reputation as a poet, was born in the south of Ireland, January 1775. His father, who was a schoolmaster at Ennis for some years, is said to have employed his son, when only in his ninth year, in the situation of Greek and Latin assistant at his own school, and to increase the wonder, we are told time he had written as much genuine poetry at ten, as either Cowley, Milton, or Pope had produced at nearly double that age. At ten, too, he. ran away to Dublin, where he acquired the patronage of a Dr. Houlton, in whose house he resided about ten weeks, giving astonishing proofs of his acquaintance with the Greek and Roman classics, and producing poetical translations ad aperturam libri. This gentleman, when obliged himself to leave Dublin, gave him some money, which he soon spent, and wandered through the streets without a settled home, until he found an asylum with a scene-­painter belonging to the theatre. The scene-painter introduced him to the players, and some attempts were laudably made by them to place him in a situation where he might prosecute his studies; but the depravity of his disposition appears to have been as early wonderful as his poetical talents. The latter, however, procured him one patron after another, all of whom he disgusted by his ingratitude and licentious conduct. At length, abandoned by every person of character, he entered as a private in the 108th regiment, commanded by the earl of Granard, and behaving with some decency under the check of military discipline, he was progressively advanced to the ranks of corporal and serjeant; and in September 1794, in the nineteenth year of his age, embarked with the regiment for England. He accompanied it afterwards abroad in the expedition under the earl of Moira, and appears to have behaved so well, that his lordship promoted him to a second-lieutenancy in the waggon corps, but on the reduction of this army, Dermody was put on the half-pay list.

He now came to London, and soon dissipated his money and other supplies which lord Moira generously contributed, in the same low vices he had practised in Ireland, until he was arrested, and sent to the Fleet prison. From this situation lord Moira released him, with a threat, however, tp withdraw his protection, unless he amended his conduct: but all admonition was in vain. Dermody could feel his disappointments for the moment, but there does not appear to have been a corner in his heart for repentance. His resources being now exhausted, he took shelter in a garret in Stratton-street, Westminster, where he represents himself as “stabbed by the murd'rous arts of men,” although he had found a kind friend in every man to whom he was known, and had mocked the liberality of every friend he found. His biographer, Mr. Raymond, relieved him on this occasion, and assisted him in the publication of a volume of poems. “The zeal,” says that gentleman) “of the few friends who were now acquainted with his distresses, soon procured him a number of advocates. His story became extensively known; and among the arbiters of wit, and the admirers of poetical compositions, his talents and situation were frequent subjects of discourse. The force of his genius was universally ac-r knowledged; and from many who interested themselves in his behalf, he reaped more solid advantages than praise and admiration. But neither poverty, experience, nor the contempt of the world, had yet taught him prudence: he had no sooner excited their compassion, and profited by their generosity, than he neglected their advice.” He thus went on from one scene of low depravity to another, until his constitution was undermined; and at length, wasted with disease, the consequence of habitual intemperance, he died at an obscure hovel near Sydenham, July 15, 1802, in the twenty-eighth year of his age.

, an eminent experimental philosopher, was born at Rochelle, in France, on the 12th of March 1683. He was brought to England when about two years of age, by his father, the rev. Mr. John Desaguliers, who, being a French protestant, was obliged to quit his native country in consequence of the persecution which followed upon the revocation of the edict of Nantes, which took place in 1685. He was instructed in grammar learning by his father, and read the classics under him; after which he was sent to Christ Church college, Oxford, where he took the degree of B. A. and entered into deacon’s orders in 1710. The same year he read lectures in experimental philosophy at Hart-hall, whither he had removed from Christ Church, in the room of Mr. Keill (afterwards Dr. Keill) who at this time accompanied the Palatines to New England, in consequence of his being appointed their treasurer. In 1712 he married Miss Joanna Pudsey, daughter of William Pudsey, esq. and, on the third of May the same year, took the degree of M. A. The following year he removed to the metropolis, and settled in Channel-row, Westminster, where he continued his courses of experimental philosophy several years.

The merit of our experimental philosopher had now attracted the notice of the duke of Chandos, who. had before taken Dr. Keill under his patronage, and who became also a patron to Mr. Desaguliers, making him his chaplain, and presenting him, about 1714, to the living of Stanmore parva, or Whitchurch. In 1717 he went through a course of his lectures on experimental philosophy, before king George I. at Hampton Court; with which his majesty was so well pleased, that he intended to have conferred upon him the valuable living of MuchMunden, in Hertfordshire; but that benefice was obtained for another person by the earl of Sunderlancl, who prevailed with a friend to present him with a living in Norfolk, the revenue of which, however, amounted only to 70l. per annum. On the 16th of March 1718, he accumulated the degrees of bachelor and doctor of laws at Oxford. On the 30th of June 1720, he made an experiment before the royal society, to prove that bodies of the same bulk do not contain equal quantities of matter; and, therefore, that there is an interspersed vacuum. He likewise made some experiments before the society on the 30th of March 1721, relating to the resistance of fluids, an account of which was published in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 367. In 1728 he shewed before the royal society a machine for measuring any depth in the sea, with great expedition and certainty, which was invented by the rev. Mr. Stephen Hales (afterwards Dr. Hales) and himself; and of which an account was published in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 405. He continued, from time to time, to exhibit various philosophical experiments before the royal society, and for which he received a salary.

When Channel row, in which he had lived for some years, was ordered to be taken down to make way for the new bridge at Westminster, Dr. Desaguliers removed to lodgings over the Great Piazza in Covent Garden, where he carried on his lectures till his death. He is said to have been repeatedly consulted by parliament, upon the design of building that bridge; in the execution of which, Mr. Charles Labelye, who had been many years his assistant, was appointed a supervisor. He likewise erected a ventilator, at the desire of parliament, in a room over the house of commons. In 1742 he published a “Dissertation on Electricity,” by which he gained the prize of the academy at Bourdeaux. “This prize,” Dr. Priestley observes, “was a medal of the value of 300 livres, proposed, at the request of monsieur Harpez de la Force, for the best essay on electricity; and shews how much this subject engaged the attention of philosophers at that time. The dissertation is well drawn up, and comprizes all that was known of the subject till that period.” Dr. Desaguliers, who is styled by Dr. Priestley “an indefatigable experimental philosopher,” died Feb. 29, 1744, at the Bedford coffee-honse, Covent Garden, where he had lodgings, and was buried March Cth, in the Savoy. He was the first who introduced the reading of lectures in experimental philosophy at the metropolis; and was a member of several foreign academies, and corresponding member of the royal academy of sciences at Paris. His personal figure was not very promising; for he was thick and short, not well-shaped, his features irregular, and extremely nearsighted. In the former part of his life he lived very abstemiously; but in his latter years was censured for an indulgence in eating to excess, both in the quantity and quality of his diet. He translated into English, from the Latin, Gravesande’s “Mathematical Elements of Natural Philosophy.” This work was published by his son J. T. Desaguliers, in two volumes, 4to. He left two other sons: Alexander, who was bred to the church, and had a living in Norfolk, where he died in 1751; and another, named Thomas, who became colonel of the royal regiment of artillery, and equerry to his present majesty, and rose to the rank of major-general.

How he, who taught two gracious kings to view

, principal surgeon to the Hotel-Diet) in Paris, and a great improver of the art, was born Feb. 6, 1744, at Magny Vernois, a village in the province of Franche Cointc. He was educated among the Jesuits, and intended by his father for the church; but evincing a stronger inclination for the medical profession, he was sent to Befort, where he spent three years in the military hospital there. To his medical studies he added that of the mathematics, in which he made great progress; but fell into one of the many errors so common among the physicians of that day, namely, a false application of the rules of geometry to the laws of the animal œconomy. He not only perused with avidity the treatise of Boreili, “De IMotu Animaliuin,” but translated the whole of it, and added a commentary more abundant in calculation than that of his author. In 1764, at the age of nineteen, he came to Paris, where surgery at that time flourished under Lafaye, Morand, AndouiHet, and Louis. Animated by the fame they had acquired, and desirous to emulate them, Desault pursued his anatomical studies with the greatest ardour, and was continually employed in dissections, or in witnessing the operations performed in the hospitals. In the winter of 1766, he commenced a course of lectures on anatomy, and soon reckoned 300 pupils, most of them older than himself, who were attracted by the clearness of his demonstrations, the methodical arrangement of his descriptions, and, above all, by his indefatigable zeal as a teacher. After some opposition from the jealousy of the other lecturers, whose schools became deserted, he was admitted* in 1776 into the corporation of surgeons, and allowed to pay the usual fees when convenient; a circumstance which, however honourable to their liberality, shews that his celebrity had not yet been attended with much pecuniary advantage. After becoming a simple member, and then a counsellor of the perpetual committee of the academy of surgery, he was appointed chief surgeon to the hospital of the college, and consulting surgeon to that of St. Sulpice, neither of which added any thing to his fortune, but increased his experience. In 1779 he invented the bandage now in use for fractures, by means of which, the fragments being kept in a state of perpetual contact, become consolidated, without the least appearance of deformity; an almost inevitable consequence of the former mode.

, a French nobleman, born at Paris in 1602, was, like the English lord Rochester, a great wit, a great libertine, and a great penitent. He made a vast progress in his studies under the Jesuits, who, perceiving his genius, endeavoured to get him into their society; but his family would not listen to their proposal, and he soon himself began to treat them with ridicule. While very young, his father procured him the place of a counsellor in the parliament of Paris, where his wit was aumired but he would never report a cause; for he used to say that it was a sordid occupation, and unworthy of a man of parts, to read wrangling papers with attention, and to endeavour to understand them. It is said, indeed, that on one occasion, when his clients were urgent for a decision, he sent for both parties, burnt the papers before them, and paid down the sum that was the cause of the dispute, to the amount of four or five hundred livres. One account says, that he left this place from the following cause. Cardinal Richelieu falling in love with the celebrated beauty Marion de Lorme, whose affections were entirely placed on our Des Barreaux, proposed to him by a third hand, that if he would resign his mistress, he should have whatever he should desire. Des Barreaux answered the proposal in a jesting way, feigning to believe the cardinal incapable of so much weakness. This enraged the minister so highly, that he persecuted Des Barreaux as long as he lived, and forced him not only to quit his place, but even to leave the kingdom. But another account says that his resignation of the bar was voluntary, and with a view to become a man of pleasure, which appears to be more probable. During his career, however, he made a great number of Latin and French verses, and. some pleasing songs; but never pursued any thing seriously, except good cheer and diversions, and being very entertaining in company, he was in high request with men of wit and taste. He had his particular friends in the several provinces of France, whom he frequently visited, and it was his practice to shift his quarters, according to the seasons of the year. In winter, he went to seek the sun on the coasts of Provence; and passed the three worst months in the year at Marseilles. The house which he called his favourite, was that of the count de Clermont de Lodeve, in Languedoc; where, he used to say, good cheer and liberty were on their throne. Sometimes he went to Balzac, on the banks of the Charante but his chief residence was at Chenailles on the Loire. His general view in these ramblings was to search out the best fruits and the best wines in the climates: but sometimes, to do him justice, his object was more intellectual, as, when he went into Holland, on purpose to see Des Cartes, and to improve hr the instructions of that great genius. His friends do not deny that he was a great libertine; but pretend, that fame, according to custom, had said more of him than is true, and that, in the latter part of his life, he was convinced of the reality of religion. They say, that he did not disapprove the truths of Christianity, and wished to be fully convinced of them; but he thought nothing was so dim'cult to a man of wit as to be a true believer. He was born a catholic, but paid little attention either to the worship or doctrines of the Romish religion; and he used to say, that if the Scriptures are to be the rule of our actions and of our belief, there was no better religion than the protestant. Four or five years before his death, we are told that he entirely forsook his vicious courses, paid his debts, and, having never been married, gave up the remainder of his estate to his sisters; reserving to himself for life an annuity of 4000 livres. He then retired to Chalon on the Soane, which he said was the best and purest air in France; hired a small house, and was visited by the better sort of people, particularly by the bishop, who afterwards spoke well of him. He died in that city, May 9. 1673, having made the famous devout sonnet two or three years before his death, which begins, “Grand Dieu, tes jugemens,” &c. But Voltaire has endeavoured to deprive him of the merit of this, by ascribing it to the abbe de Levau. It is, however, the only one of Des Barreaux’s poems, which in general were in the style of Sarazin and Chapelle, that has obtained approbation, Dreux du Radier, in his “Recreations historiques,” asserts that it is an imitation of a sonnet by Desportes, who published it in 1G03; and if so, the imitation must be allowed greatly to surpass the original.

, an elegant Latin poet, was a native of France, and born at Chateauneuf, in Berri, Jan. 25, 1711, and entered the order of the Jesuits, in whose schools he taught rhetoric for some years. When invited to Paris, to the college of Louis-le-Grand, he acquired great fame by his Latin poetry, which was thought so pure, that he was usually styled ultimus Romanorum. On the abolition of the order of the Jesuits in France, Desbillons found an honourable asylum with the elector palatine, who gave him a pension of a thousand crowns, and a place in the college of Manheim, where he died March 19, 1789. He wrote Latin Iambics with great ease, and even wrote his will in that measure, in which he bequeathed his valuable library to the Lazarists. His works are: 1. “Fabulae libri XV.” Paris, 1775, and 1778, elegantly printed by Barbou; but it is rather singular that the first five books of these fables were originally printed at Glasgow in 1754, and a second edition at Paris, in 1756; at which time the author acknowledged the work, and added five more books, the whole then containing about three hundred and fifty fables. The greater part are translated or paraphrased from the writings of the most eminent fabulists, ancient and modern, particularly among the moderns, La Fontaine; but there is a considerable number of originals. He afterwards increased the number of books to fifteen, as in the edition first mentioned. They have been also reprinted in Germany, and the author himself translated them into French, with the Latin text added, which edition, usually reckoned the best, was published at Manheim, 1769, 2 vols. 8vo. His Latin style is peculiarly chaste and unaffected. 2. “Nouveaux eclaircissemens sur la vie et les ouvrages de Guillaume Postel,” 1763, 8vo. 3. “Histoire de la vie et des exploits militaires de madame de St. Balmont,” 1773, 8vo. 4. “Ars bene valendi,” 1788, 8vo; a Latin poem in Iambics, on the preservation of health, in which the author inveighs against hot liquids, especially chocolate, tea, and coffee. Besides these, Desbillons published a very correct edition of “Phaxlrus,” with three dissertations on the life, fables, and editions of Phacdrus, and notes, Manheim, 1786, 8vo, and an edition of Thomas a Kempis. He wrote also some dramatic pieces in Latin, and a history of the Latin language, which is still in manuscript. In 1792 his “Miscellanea Posthuma” were published at Manheim, 8vo, containing a fifteenth and sixteenth book of Fables; “Monita Philosophica,” against the modern French philosophers; and a Latin comedy, “Schola Patrum, sive Patrum et Liberorum indoles emendata.”

We shall now subjoin sme additional testimonies to his character. M. Baillet, in his account of his life,c. highly commends him for his contempt of wealth and fame, his love of truth, his modesty, disinterestedness, moderation, piety, and submission to the authority of the church. Dr. Barrow, in his “Opuscula,” tells us, that he was undoubtedly a very good and ingenious man, and a real philosopher, and one who seems to have b fought those assistances to that part of philosophy which relates to matter and motion, which, perhaps, no other had done; that is, a great skill in mathematics, a mind habituated both by nature and custom to profound meditation, a judgment exempt from all prejudices and popular errors, and furnished with a considerable number of certain and select experiments, a great jtleal of leisure, entirely disengaged by his own choice from the readme: of useless books, and the avocations of life, with an incomparable acuteness of wit, and an excellent talent of thinking clearly and distinctly, and expressing his, thoughts with the utmost perspicuity. Dr. Halley (see Wotton’s Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learning) says, “As to dioptrics, though some of the ancients mention refraction as a natural effect of transparent media, yet Des Cartes was the first who, in this age, has discovered the laws of refraction, and brought dioptrics into a science.” Wotton (ubi supra) though he degrades him in comparison with lord Bacon, whom he soon succeeded, and censures him for too precipitately drawing conclusions without a sufficient number of previous experiments, observes nevertheless, that “to a vast genius he joined an exquisite skill in geometry, so that he wrought upon intelligible principles in an intelligible manner, though he very often failed in one part of his end, namely, a right explication of the phenomena of nature; yet, by marrying geometry and physics together, he put the world in hopes of a masculine offspring in process of time, though the first productions should prove abortive.” Dr. Keil, in the introduction to his “Examination of Burnet’s Theory of the Earth,” animadverting on Wotton’s reflections, &c. tells us, that Des Cartes was so far from applying geometry and observations to natural philosophy, that his whole system is but one continued blunder on account of his negligence in that point; which he could easily prove by shewing, that his theory of the vortices, upon which the whole system is grounded, is absolutely false; and that sir Isaac Newton has shewn, that the periodical times of all bodies, which swim in a vortex, must be directly as the squares of their distances from the centre of the vortex. But it is evident, from observations, that the planets, in turning round the sun, observe quite another law; for the squares of their periodical times are always as the cubes of their distances; and, therefore, since they do not observe that Jaw, which they necessarily must, if they swim in a vortex, it is a demonstration that there are no vortices, in which the planets are carried round the sun: with more to the same purpose. Mr. Baker, considering the natural philosophy of Des Cartes, observes, that “though it would be very unjust to charge Des Cartes with the denial of a God, who is supposed by him to have created matter,and to have impressed the first motion upon it, yet he is blameable, that after the first motion is impressed, and the wheels set a-going, he leaves his vast machine to the laws of mechanism, and supposes that all things may be thereby produced without any further extraordinary assistance from the first impressor. The supposition is impious; and, as he states it, destructive of itself; for, not to deny him his laws of motion, most of which have been evidently shewn to be false, and consequently so must all be that is built upon them, his notion of matter is inconsistent with any motion at all; for, as space and matter are with him the same, upon this supposition there can be no motion in a plenum.” Dr. Keil condemns Des Cartes for encouraging the presumptuous pride of the modern philosophers; who think they understand all the works of nature, and are able to give a good account of them. Mr. Leibnitz, whilst he acknowledges that Des Cartes was a very learned man, and had read more than his followers imagine, and that he was one of those who has added most to the discoveries of their predecessors, observes, that those who rest entirely in him, are much mistaken in their conduct; and this, he says, is true, even with regard to geometry itself. He also remarks, that Des Cartes endeavoured to correct some errors with regard to natural philosophy, but that his presumption and contemptuous manner of writing, together with the obscurity of his style, and his confusion, and severe treatment of others, are very disagreeable. Rapin, in his “Reflexions de Physique,” after observing that Des Cartes’ s principles of motion, figure, and extension, are almost the very same with those of Democritus and Epicurus, tells us, that father Mersenne mentioned in an assembly of learned men, that Des Cartes, who had gained great reputation by his geometry, was preparing a system of natural philosophy, in which he admitted a vacuum; but the notion was ridiculed by Roberval and some others; upon which Mersenne wrote to him, that a vacuum was not then in fashion at Paris, which induced Des Cartes to change his scheme, in complaisance to the natural philosophers whom he studied to please, and admit the plenum of Leucippus; “so that,” says father Rapin, “the exclusion of a vacuum became one of his principles, merely from political considerations.” Rapin produces no authority for this story; and it should be recollected, that he was a very zealous Aristotelian, extremely prejudiced against any new systems of philosophy. Des Cartes, it is said, imagined it possible to prolong life very considerably beyond the common period, and thought he had discovered the method of doing it. In conversation with sir Kenelm Digby, Des Cartes assured him that, having already considered that matter, he would not venture to promise to render a man immortal; but that he was very sure it was possible to lengthen out his life to the period of the patriarchs. It seems evident to me, says he, in a letter written to M. de Zuylichem from Egmond, in 1638, when he had attained the age of forty-two years, that if we only guarded against certain errors, which we are accustomed to commit in the course of our diet, we might, without any other invention, attain to an old age, much longer and more happy than now we do. However, twelve years after this declaration was made, our philosopher died. Des Cartes was never married, but had one natural daughter, named Francina, who died at five years of age. Of his works there have been several editions; particularly a Latin edition, A rust. 1701—1715, 9 vols. 4to. That published at Paris comprehends 15 volumes in 12mo, and their contents are as follow; viz. “Lettres de M. Des Cartes, ou Ton a joint le Latin de plusieurs lettres, qui n‘avoient ete imprhnees qu’en Francois, aver une traduction Francois de celles, qui n‘avoient jusqu’a present paru qu'en Latin,” 1724, 6 vols. “Les Meditations metaphysiques touchant la premiere philosophic,” 1724, 2 vols. “Discours de la methode, pour bien conJuire sa raison, et chercher la verite dans les sciences. Plus la dioptrique, les meteores, la mechanique, et la musique,” 1724, 2 vols. “Les Principes de la Philosophic,” 1724, 1 vol. “Les Passions de l‘Ame. Le Monde, ou traite de la lumiere. Edition augmented d’un discours sur le mouvement local et sur la fie v re, sur* les principes du mema auteur,” 1728, 1 vol. “L'Homme de Rene Des Cartes, et la formation du fetus; avec les remarques de Louis de la Forge,” 1722, 1 vol.

, a very eminent French architect, was born at Paris in 1653, and in 1674 was commissioned by Colbert to go to Home with some other academicians, but in the voyage they had the misfortune to be taken by a pirate and carried into Algiers, where they remained for sixteen months, until redeemed by the king of France’s orders. He then went with his companions ta Rome, where he applied with singular assiduity to the survey of the ancient buildings of that metropolis. He informs us, that when he undertook to measure the antiquities of Rome, his chief intention was, to learn which of the authors jn most esteem ought to be followed, as having given the most accurate measures; but he soon found reason to be convinced that they were all extremely defective in point of precision. This fault, however, he candidly imputes not to those authors themselves, but to the workmen who had been employed in their service. To prevent his being led into the same errors, he took the measures of all the ancient structures exactly, with his own hands, and repeated the whole several times, that be might arrive at an absolute certainty; ^causing such of the buildings as were under ground to be cleared, and erecting 'adders and other machines to get at those which were elevated. When, he returned to Paris he communicated his drawings to the members of the royal academy of architecture, and Colbert recommended them to the king, who caused them to be published at his own expence, in a splendid folio volume, 1682, and allotted all the profits to the author. The plates of this work remained in the family of a connoisseur until 1779, when they were purchased of his heirs for a new edition; but before this, in 1771, Mr. Marshal published a splendid edition at London, with the descriptions in French and English. In 1776 “Le Lois des Batimens” was printed from his manuscripts. In 1680 Colbert promoted him to the office of comptroller of the royal buildings at Chamber, but in 1694 he was recalled to hold the same office at Paris. In 1699 he was made king’s architect, with a pension of 2000 livres. In 1719 he succeeded M. de la Hire as professor of architecture, and commenced a course of lectures in June of that year, which he continued with great applause and success until his death, May 20, 1728. He was a man of an amiable and estimable character in private life.

, an ingenious French painter, was born at Rouen in Normandy, in 1729. He received the first elements of design from his father, and afterwards practised at Paris, under M. Vermont; but learned from Restout those excellent principles which he afterwards cultivated with so much success, and soon obtained many of the medals which the academy gave as prizes for design. In a journey he took to Rouen (his native place), he obtained several commissions for historical pieces, several of which he executed while under M, Restout. His picture of Potiphar’s wife, which he painted as a candidate for the academy’s prize, procured him the friendship of M. Boucher, at that time principal painter to the king, and Restout consented to yield the young Dehais, as an eleve of that artist. In 1751 he carried the first prize of the academy; and in consequence became a disciple of the king’s school, under the direction of M. Carlo Vanloo; and during three years he profited much by the instructions he received from that great master, extcuting many pieces of great merit. After this, hu vesided some time at Rome; and in spite of very bad health, prosecuted his profession with unremitting diligence, and great success. On his return to Paris, he married the daughter of M. Boucher, and was received into the academy with universal approbation the pictures which he presented on that occasion were of such merit as to give very sanguine hopes that he would one day become one of the greatest of the French artists. Every successive exhibition at the Louvre proved in the clearest manner, that his reputation was fixed on the surest foundation: but he died in the midst of his career, in the beginning of 1765. The principal of his works are, the History of St. Andrew, in four large pictures, at Rouen; the Adventures of Helen, in nine pieces, for the manufactory of Beauvais; the Death of St. Benet, at Orleans; the Deliverance of St. Peter, at Versailles. The Marriage of the Virgin is a subject simple in itself, but is nobly elevated by the painter. The grand priest is standing up, and turned towards the sacred spouse; his arms are extended, and his countenance directed towards the illuminated glory. Scarce any thing can be more expressive than the air of this head. The grandeur and the majestic simplicity of the virgin’s head are also finely conceived; and her whole figure admirable. The picturesque composition of the groupe is very well managed the draperies are in a bold and elegant taste the lights and shades finely imagined, melting into all the happy effects of the clear obscure. — His Resurrection of Lazarus is full of expression: the different emotions of surprise, terror, and admiration are most ingeniously varied, and finely characterised in the three apostles. The two women who behold the miracle, display the invention of the painter; one of them is full of astonishment, mixed with terror, at the idea of the sight before her the other falls prostrate to the ground, adoring the divine worker of the miracle: the whole piece is full of character and expression. His picture of Joseph’s Chastity is one of the finest that ever issued from his happy pencil: Potiphar’s wife is represented darting herself from the bed, and catching Joseph by his garment. The crime, hope, and fear of her passion, are expressed in the most lively manner in her eyes and countenance. The figure of Joseph is well designed; but it was on the woman that the painter, with great justness, bent all the efforts of his imagination, and his art. Among his other works are the Combat of Achilles against the Xanthus and Simo'is; Jupiter and Antiope, in which the figure of the woman is wonderfully delicate and pleasing. A small piece representing Study, very fine. Artemisia at the tomb of her husband, &c.

, a fanatical priest, who, destitute of genius, thought to supply that defect by buffooneries and plots against the Calvinists. He was arrested on the Loire 1561, charged with a petition of the monks to Philip II. that he would succour religion, which was in great danger. The parliament sentenced him to the amende honorable, and five years’ confinement among the Carthusians. He was living in 1578. His works are numerous, and as dull as their titles promise: “Dispute de Guillot le Porcher, centre Jean Calvin,” 1568, 16mo; “Les grands jours du Parlemeut de Dieu, publie par St. Matthieu;” “Les Ravages et le Deluge des Chevaux de louage, avec le retour de Guillot le Porcher;” “Sur les Miseres et les Calamites du Regne present;” “Les Combats du fidele Papiste, contre l'Apostat Antipapiste,” Lyons, 1555, 16mo.

, a French writer, who might have been an able coadjutor, in the cause of infidelity, to the D'Alemberts, Diderots, and Voltaires of France, was born at Pondicherry in 1690. His father, who resided here, was a director of the French East India company, and died at St. Domingo in the office of commissary-general of the marine. He was the author of a work entitled “Remarques historiques, critiques, et satiriques d'un cosmopolite,” printed by his son at Nantes, although Cologne is on the title, 1731, 12mo. His son, the object of this article, became commissary-general of the marine at Rochefort and Brest, and a member of the royal academy of Berlin. These employments and honours he resigned in his latter days, and died at Paris in 1757. In 1713 he came to London, for what reason we have not been able to discover, where he was seized with the small pox. In that year he published in London his “Litteraturn Otium,” in which he has very successfully imitated Catullus. He had previously printed at Paris his “Reflexions sur les grands homines qui sont morts en plaisautant,” which was immediately translated by Boyer, and published at London under the title of “A Philological Essay, or Reflections on the death of Freethinkers, with the characters of the most eminent persons of both sexes, ancient and modern, that died pleasantly and unconcerned,” 1714, IL'mo. It would appear from an article in the Guardian, No. 39, that he had expressed some compunction during his sickness for having written this book; but on his recovery he took equal pains to prove that he was as unconcerned as ever. The work itself is sufficiently contemptible, and in the opinion even of his countrymen, some of his great men are very little men: and, what is of more importance, he confounds the impiety of Boletus and Vanini with the intrepidity and firmness of Thuanus and Montmorency, and others, whose heroism was founded on religion. At the conclusion he has some random thoughts on suicide, and the gallantry of it, and informs us of a curious fact, that at one time a poisonous draught was kept at Marseilles, at the public expence, ready for those who desired to rid themselves of life. All the absurdities and impiety in this work are said to have been refuted by the author himself, who on his death-bed, by a solemn act in writing, manifested his sincere repentance. Such is the report in an edition printed at Rochefort in 1758, but this is flatly contradicted by the editors of the-Dict. Hist, who assure us that he persevered in his infidelity to the last, which they prove by some despicable verses written by him when near his death. His other works were, 1. “Histoire critique de la Philosophic,” 4 vols. 12mo, the first three published at Amsterdam in 1737. In this, which is poor in respect of style, and not to be depended on in point of fact, he grossly misrepresents the opinions of the philosophers in order to accommodate them to his own. 2. “Kssai snr la Marine et le Commerce,” which was translated and published at London, under the title, “Essay on Maritime Power and Commerce,” 1743, and was rather more valued here than in France. 3. “Recueil de differents traites de physique et d'histoire naturelle,” 3 vols. 12mo, an useful collection. 4. “Histoire de Constance, minister de Siam,” 1755, 12mo. This missionary he represents as a mere adventurer, the victim of his ambition, contrary to the representation given by father Orleans, who, in the life of Constance, published in 1690, maintains that he was a pious zealot. Deslandes’ other works, less known, are “Pygmalion,” 12mo; “Fortune,” 12mo; “La Comtesse de Montserrat,” 12mo; all of the licentious kind.

The word inoculiis, in the first of these, alludes to his having the sight of only one eye, which when Christopher Massaeus objected to him, calling him Polyphemus, Despauter replied with rather more warmth than was justified by the provocation; and with some degree of vanity, added, “You call me Polyphemus. I am Polyphemus and Euphemus too. Italy, France, and Germany applaud my diligence, while you can expect hereafter to be ranked among the Cacophemi, the Zoilus’s, the Bavins’ s, &c.” Vossius supports this character so far as to declare that Despauter saw clearer into the grammatical art with one eye, than all his contemporaries with tsvo. It is certain that his grammar was long the only one used in the schools on the continent, and has been republished in an hundred abridged forms, for the use of scholars of every country; but has received so many successive improvements and alterations, that little of the original remains. His fame, as a grammarian, to those who study the histciy of that art, will be found to rest on his very scarce work, entitled “Joan. Despauterii Ninivitae Commentarii Grammatici,” Paris, printed by Robert Stephens, 1537, folio. This is the finest and most complete edition, and forms a collection of all the treatises which he had published separately; viz. 1. “Rudimenta.” 2. “Syntaxis.” iJ. “Ars versificatoria.” 4. “De accentibus.” 5. “De carminum generibus.” 6. “De Figuris.” 7. “Ars Epistolica;” and 8. “Orthographia,” which is not quite finished. Although his grammar is now in less estimation, he deserves to be remembered among the most useful scholars of his time, and among the benefactors to learning on its revival.

, an eminent French lawyer, and a protestant, was born at Montpelier, in 1594. Being admitted to the bar, he pleaded in the parliament of Paris. Having communicated his ideas on the subject to his friend and countryman Charles de Bouques, they resolved to labour conjointly in the explanation and illustration of the civil law, and the first fruits of their labours was a “Traittdes successions testamentaires et ab intestat,” Paris, 1G23, fol. dedicated to the son of the chancellor de Sillery, who patronized both authors, and encouraged them in the prosecution of their work. De Bouques was removed by death, and the undertaking would have been discontinued, had not Despeisses taken the whole upon himself, and made it the employment of nearly forty years of his life. He was about to have sent it to press, when he died almost suddenly, in 1658. The work, however, appeared under the title, “Les OEuvres d‘Antoine Despeisses, ou toutes les matieres les plus importantes du clroit Remain sont expliquees et accommode’es au droit Francois,” 4 vols. fol. The last edition was printed in 1750, 3 vols. fol. It is a work of vast labour, but according to Bretonnier, not exact in the quotations. It is recorded of Despeisses, that at one time of his life he returned to Montpellier, with a view to practice at the bar, but was diverted from it by an incident very trifling in itself. As he was addressing the court, with many digressions from the main subject, which was then the fashion, he happened to say something of Ethiopia, on which an attorney, loud enough to be heard, said, “He is now got to Ethiopia, and he will never come back.” Despeisses was so much hurt at this, and probably at the laugh which it occasioned, as to confine himself afterwards to chamber-practice, and the compilation of his great work.

, an eminent painter, was born at the village of Champigneul, in Champagne, in 1661; and being a disciple of Nicasius, a Flemish painter, imitated his manner of painting. The subjects he selected were flowers, insects, animals, and representations of the chace, which he designed and coloured with much truth; his local colours being very good, and the aerial perspective well managed. He was chiefly employed in the service of Lewis XIV.; and accompanied the French ambassader, the duke d'Aumont, to London, where he was much encouraged, particularly by the duke of Richmond and lord Bolingbroke. The hotels of Paris, and the palaces of Versailles, Marli, &c. contain many specimens by this artist, who died at a very advanced age, in 1743. The present Imperial Museum has his portrait, which was engraved by Poullain, and three pictures by him, of great merit.

, physician to the king of France, and corresponding member of the royal academy of sciences at Paris, was a native of Vitre, a town in Bretagne, where he was born Sept. 28, 1704, and was the fifth of his family who had distinguished themselves in the medical art. After practising with great reputation for some years at Paris, he was appointed physician to the island of Domingo, where he died, after a residence of about ten years, in 1748. He left an interesting and curious work, “Histoire des Maladies de Saint Domingue,” which was printed in 1770, 3 vols. 12mo. Besides an account of the diseases common in Domingo, it contains descriptions of all the plants which the author found in the island. In this he has corrected several errors in the accounts left by Plumier and Barrere, and has added, where he could obtain them, the names by which they were known by the native Caribbees; also a pharmacopoeia, giving the qualities or virtues of the plants.

, a poet to whom much of the improvement of the French language is attributed, was born at Chartres in 1546, whence he went to Paris. Attaching himself there to a bishop who was going to Rome, he gained an opportunity of visiting that city, and acquiring a perfect knowledge of the Italian language. When he returned to France, he applied himself entirely to French poetry, and was one of the few poets who have enjoyed great affluence, which he owed in part to the great liberality of the princes by whom he was protected. Henry III. of France gave him 10,000 crowns, to enable him to publish his first works. Charles IX. presented him with 800 crowns of gold for his poem of Rodomont. The admiral de Joyeuse gave him an abbey for a sonnet. Besides which, he enjoyed benefices to the amount altogether of 10,000 crowns a year. Henry III. even honoured him with a place in his council, and consulted him on the most important affairs. It is said that he refused several bishoprics; but he loved solitude and retirement, which he sought as often as he could. He was very liberal to other men of letters, and formed a large library, to which he gave them the utmost freedom of access. Some, who were envious of his reputation, reproached him with having borrowed freely from the Italian poets, which he was far from denying; and when a book appeared upon the subject, entitled “Rencontre des Muses de France et d'ltalie,” he said, “If I had known the author’s design, I could have furnished him with many more instances than he has collected.” After the death of Henry III. he joined himself for a time to the party of the League, but afterwards repented, and laboured zealously to serve the interests of Henry IV. in Normandy, and succeeded in obtaining the friendship and esteem of that liberal monarch. He died in 1606. Desportes is acknowledged to have been one of the chief improvers of the French language. His works consist of sonnets, stanzas, elegies, songs, epigrams, imitations, and other poems; some of which were first published in 4to, by Robert Stephens, in 1573. A translation of the Psalms was one of his latest works, and one of the most feeble. A delightful simplicity is the characteristic of his poetry, which is therefore more perfect when applied to amorous and gallant, than to noble subjects. He often imitated and almost translated Tibullus, Ovid, and other classics. A few sacred poems are published in some editions of his Psalms, which have little more merit than the Psalms to which they are subjoined.

After the treaty of Campo Formio, he followed Buonaparte into Egypt, and was by him presented with a short sword, superbly wrought, on which were inscribed the words “The taking of Malta; the battle of Chebreis, the battle of the Pyramids.” He was charged to reduce Upper Egypt, whither the Mamelukes had retired; here he gained several victories; and he acquired a distinction more honourable than the triumph of arms, for the inhabitants gave him the title of “The Just Sultan.” Returning from Egypt in consequence of the treaty of El Arisch, he was detained by lord Keith, but was at length set at liberty. He then repaired to his native country, from which he again, with the utmost expedition, joined Buonaparte, and arrived just in time to be present at the battle of Marengo, the fate of which he turned, and in which he fell, June 14, 1800, esteemed by the French soldiers, honoured by the Austrians, and loved by all who knew him.

, an eminent physician, born at Amsterdam in 1510, was sent first to Lou vain, where he soon distinguished himself by his acquirements in classical literature. Declaring at length for the practice of medicine, he went to Bologna, in Italy, and in 1538 he took his degree of doctor in that faculty. A vacancy happening soon after at Groningen, he accepted the office of professor of the practice of medicine, which he taught with reputation for nine years. From thence, invited by Echtius, professor in medicine there, he went to Cologne, where he was admitted member of the college of physicians, and received a considerable pension from the government. This he retained to the time of his death, in 1574. He was author of several useful works. His “De Compositione Medicamentorum,” 1555, fol. contains many valuable observations and improvements on the formulae used in his time. “De Peste, commentarius, preservatio, et curatio,” Col. 1564, 4to. He speaks of a leathern, jacket, which had passed into the hands of twenty-five persons, who had received the infection from it, and been destroyed, before the cause was discovered. He wrote also in defence of the ancient medicine, and against the practice introduced by Paracelsus.

, an eminent French dramatic writer, was born at Tours, in 1680, of a reputable family, which he left early in life, apparently from being thwarted in his youthful pursuits. This, however, has been contradicted; and it is said that after having passed through the rudiments of a literary education at Tours, he went, with the full concurrence of his father, to Paris, in order to complete his studies; that being lodged with a bookseller in the capital, he fell in love at sixteen with a young person, the relation of his landlord, the consequences of which amour were such, that young Destouches, afraid to face them, enlisted as a common soldier in a regiment under orders for Spain; that he was present at the siege of Barcelona, where he narrowly escaped the fate of almost the whole company to which he belonged, who were buried under a mine sprung by the besieged. What became of him afterwards, to the time of his being noticed by the marquis de Puysieulx, is not certainly known, but the common opinion was, that he had appeared as a player on the stage; and having for a long time dragged his wretchedness from town to town, was at length manager of a company of comedians at Soleure, when the marquis de Puysieulx, ambassador from France to Switzerland, obtained some knowledge of him by means of an harangue which the young actor made him at the head of his comrades. The marquis, habituated by his diplomatic function to discern and appreciate characters, judged that one who could speak so well, was destined by nature to something better than the representation of French comedies in the centre of Switzerland. He requested a conference with Destouches, sounded him on various topics, and attached him to his person. It was in Switzerland that his talent for theatrical productions first displayed itself; and his “Curieux Impertinent” was exhibited there with applause. His dramatic productions made him known to the regent, who sent him to London in 1717, to assist, in his political capacity, at the negotiations then on foot, and while resident here, he had a singular negociation to manage for cardinal Dubois, to whom, indeed, he was indebted for his post. That minister directed him to engage king George I. to ask for him the archbishopric of Cambray, from the regent duke of Orleans. The king, who was treating with the regent on affairs of great consequence, and whom it was the interest of the latter to oblige, could not help viewing this request in a ridiculous light. “How!” said he to Destouches, “would you have a protestant prince interfere in making a French archbishop? The regent will only laugh at it, and certainly will pay no regard to such an application.” “Pardon me, sire,” replied Destouches, “he will laugh, indeed, but he will do what you desire.” He then presented to the king a very pressing letter, ready for signature. “With all my heart, then,” said the king, and signed the letter; and Dubois became archbishop of Cambray. He spent seven years in London, married there, and returned to his country; where the dramatist and negociator were well received. The regent had a just sense of his services, and promised him great things; but dying soon after, left Destouches the meagre comfort of reflecting how well he should have been provided for if the regent had lived. Having lost his patron, he retired to Fortoiseau, near Melun, as the properest situation to make him forget the caprices of fortune. He purchased the place; and cultivating agriculture, philosophy, and the muses, abode there as long as he lived. Cardinal Fleury would fain have sent him ambassador to Petersburg; but Destouches chose rather to attend his lands and his woods, to correct with his pen the manners of his own countrymen; and to write, which he did with considerable effect, against the infidels of France. He died in 1754, leaving a daughter and a son; the latter, by order of Lewis XV. published at the Louvre an edition of his father’s works, in 4 vols. 4to. Destouch.es had not the gaiety of Regnard, nor the strong warm colouring of Moliere; but he is always polite, tender, and natural, and has been thought worthy of ranking next to these authors. He deserves more praise by surpassing them in the morality and decorum of his pieces, and he had also the art of attaining the pathetic without losing the vis comica, which is the essential character of this species of composition. In the various connections of domestic life, he maintained a truly respectable character, and in early life he gave evidence of his filial duty, by sending 40,000 livres out of his savings to his father, who was burthened with a large family.

, a learned Greek scholar of the sixteenth century, was born in the island of Corfou, of a catholic family. At the age of eight he was taken to Rome by John Lascaris, and placed with other eastern youths in the Greek college, which had been just established. Having made great progress in this language, cardinal Rodolphi gave him the care of his library, which office he held for fifteen years, and in that time he compiled an index to Eustathius’s commentary on Homer, for which pope Paul III. gave him a pension; and Paul IV. who continued this pension, made him corrector of the Greek Mss. in the Vatican. On the death of cardinal Rodolphi, Marc -Antony Colonna, who was afterwards cardinal, became scholar to Devarius for three years in the Greek language. He was afterwards patronized by the cardinal Farnese; and died in his service, about the end of the sixteenth century, in the seventieth year of his age. By order of pope Pius V. he translated the catechism of the council of Trent into Greek; but the work for which he is best known is entitled “De Particulis Graecae linguae liber particularis,” of which there have been many editions, the first published by his nephew, Peter Devarius, at Rome, in 1558, 4to, and reprinted at London, 1657, 12mo Amsterdam, 1700 and 1718, &c. &c.

, the first earl of Essex of this name and family, a general equally distinguished for his courage and conduct, and a nobleman not more illustrious by his titles than by his birth, was descended from a most ancient and noble farrr!“, being the son of sir Richard Devereux, knight, by Do 'thy, daughter of George earl of Huntingdon, and gra.idson of Walter viscount of Hereford, so created by king Edward the Sixth. He was born about 1540, at his grandfather’s castle in Carmarthenshire, and during his education applied himself to his studies with great diligence and success. He succeeded to the titles of viscount Hereford and lord Ferrers of Chartley, in the nineteenth year of his age, and being early distinguished for his modesty, learning, and loyalty, stood in higii favour with his sovereign, queen Elizabeth. In 1569, upon the breaking out of the rebellion in the north, under the earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, he raised a considerable body of forces, which joining those belonging to the lord admiral and the earl of Lincoln, he was declared marshal of the army, and obliged the rebels to disperse. This so highly recommended him to the queen, that in 1572 she honoured him with the garter, and on the 4th of May, the same year, created him earl of Essex, as being descended by his great grandmother from the noble family of Bourchier, long before honoured with the same title. In the month of January following, he was one of the peers that sat in judgment upon the duke of Norfolk. At this time he was such a favourite with the queen, that some, who were for confining her good graces to themselves, endeavoured to remove him by encouraging an inclination he shewed to adventure both his person and fortune for her majesty’s service in Ireland. Accordingly, on the 16th of August, 1573, he embarked at Liverpool, accompanied by lord Darcy, lord Rich, and many other persons of distinction, together with a multitude of volunteers, who were incited by the hopes of preferment, and his lordship’s known reputation. His reception in Ireland was not very auspicious landing at Knockfergus on the 16th of September, he found the chiefs of the rebels inclined apparently to submit; but having gained time, they broke out again into open rebellion. Lord Rich was called away by his own affairs, and by degrees, most of those who went abroad with the earl, came home again upon a variety of pretences. In this situation Essex desired the queen to carry on the service in her own name, and by her own command, though he should be at one half of the expence. Afterwards he applied to the earls of Sussex and Leicester, and the lord Burleigh, to induce the queen to pay one hundred horse and six hundred foot; which, however, did not take effect; but the queen, perceiving the slight put upon him, and that the lord deputy had delayed sending him his commission, was inclined to recal him out of Ulster, if Leicester and others, who had promoted his removal, had not dissuaded her. The lord deputy, at last, in 1574, sent him his patent, but with positive orders to pursue the earl of Desmond one way, while himself pressed him another. The earl of Essex reluctantly obeyed, and either forced or persuaded the earl of Desmond to submission; and it is highly probable, would have performed more essential service, if he had not been thwarted. The same misfortune attended his subsequent attempts; and, excepting the zeal of his attendants, the affection of the English soldiers, and the esteem of the native Irish, he gained nothing by all his pains. Worn out at length with these fruitless fatigues, he, the next year, desired leave to conclude upon honourable terms an accommodation with Turlough Oneile, which was refused him. He then surrendered the government of Ulster into the lord deputy’s hands, believing the forces allowed him altogether insufficient for its defence; but the lord deputy obliged him to resume it, and to majrch against Turlough, Oneile, which he accordingly did; and his enterprize” being in a fair way of succeeding, he was surprized to receive instructions, which peremptorily required him to make peace. This likewise he concluded, without loss of honour, and then turned his arms against the Scots from the western islands, who had invaded and taken possession, of his country. These he quickly drove out, and, by the help of Norris, followed them into one of their islands; and was preparing to dispossess them of other posts, when he was required to give up his command, and afterwards to serve at the head of a small body of three hundred men, with no other title than their captain. All this he owed to Leicester; but, notwithstanding his chagrin, he continued to perform his duty, without any shew of resentment, out of respect to the queen’s service. In the spring of the succeeding year he came over to England, and did not hesitate to express his indignation against the all-powerful favourite, for the usage he had met xvith. But as it was the custom of that great man to debase his enemies by exalting them, so he procured an order for the earl of Essex’s return into Ireland, with the sounding title of earl -marshal of that kingdom, and with promises that he should be left more at liberty than in times past; but, upon his arrival at Ireland, he found his situation so little altered for the better, that he pined away with grief and sorrow, which at length proved fatal to him, and brought him to his end. There is nothing more certain, either from the public histories, or private memoirs and letters of that age, than the excellent character of this noble earl, as a brave soldier, a loyal subject, and a disinterested patriot; and in private life he was of a chearful temper, kind, affectionate, and beneficent to all who were about him. He was taken ill of a flux on the 21st of August, and in great pain and misery languished to the 22d of September, 1576, when he departed this life at Dublin, being scarcely thirty-five years old. There was a very strong report at the time, of his being poisoned; but for this there seems little foundation, yet it must have been suspected, as an inquiry was immediately made by authority, and sir Henry Sidney, then lord deputy of Ireland, wrote very fully upon this subject to the privy-council in England, and to one of the members of that council in particular. The corpse of the earl was speedily brought over to England, carried to the place of his nativity, Carmarthen, and buried there with great solemnity, and with most extraordinary i< monies of the unfeigned sorrow of all the country round about. A funeral sermon was preached on this occasion, Nov. 26, 1576, and printed at London 1577, 4to. He married Lettice, daughter to sir Frances Knolles, knight of the garter, who survived him many years, and whose speedy marriage after his death to the earl of Leicester, upon whom common fame threw the charge of hastening his death, perhaps might encourage that report. By this lady he had two sons, Robert and Walter, and two daughters, Penelope, first married to Robert lord Rich, and then to Charles Blount, earl of Devonshire; and Dorothy, who becoming the widow of sir Thomas Perrot, knight, espoused for her second husband Henry Percy earl of Northumberland.

One important objection only has been brought forward against the character of the first earl of Essex, which is mentioned by Dr. Leland, in his History of Ireland. The story, as literally translated by Mr. O'Connor, from the Irish manuscript annals of queen Elizabeth’s reign, is as follows: “Anno 1574. A solemn peace and concord was made between the earl of Essex and Felim O‘Nial. However, at a feast wherein the earl entertained that chieftain, and at the end of their good cheer, O’Nial with his wife were seized, their friends who attended were put to the sword before their faces. Felim, together with his wife and brother, were conveyed to Dublin, where they were cut up in quarters. This execution gave universal discontent and horrour.” Considering the general character of the earl of Essex, we cannot avoid greatly doubting of the authenticity of this fact; and indeed, if it was founded on truth, it must appear very extraordinary that it should not have occurred in any other narrative of the times.

, earl of Essex, memorable for having been a great favourite, and an unhappy victim to the arts of his enemies and his own ambition, m the reign of queen Elizabeth, was son of the preceding, and born Nov. 10, 1567, at Netherwood, his father’s seat in Herefordshire. His father dying when he was only in his 10th year, recommended him to the protection of William Cecil lord Burleigh, whom he appointed his guardian. Two years after, he was sent to the university of Cambridge by this lord, who placed him in Trinity college, under the care of Dr. Whitgift, then master of it, and afterwards archbishop of Canterbury. But Mr. Cole, for many reasons, is inclined to think that he was placed at Queen’s, under Dr. Chaderton. He was, however, educated with much strictness, and applied himself to learning with great diligence; though it is said that, in his tender years, there did not appear aoy pregnant signs of that extraordinary genius which shone forth in him afterwards. In 1583, he took the decree of M. A. and kept his public act, and soon after left Cambridge, and retired to his own house at Lampsie in South Wales, where he spent some time, and became so enamoured of his rural retreut, that he was with difficulty prevailed on to quit it. His first appearance at court, at least as a candidate for royal favour, was in his seventeenth year; and he brought thither a fine person, an agreeable behaviour, and an affability which procured him many friends. By degrees he so far overcame the reluctance he first shewed against the earl of Leicester, his father’s enemy, and now very strangely his father-in-law, that in 1585 he accompanied him to Holland, where we find him next year in the field, with the title of general of the horse. In this quality he gave the highest proofs of personal courage in the battle of Zutphen, fought in 1586; and, on his return to England, was made, the year after, master of the horse in the room of lord Leicester promoted. In 1588, he continued to rise, and indeed almost reached the summit of his fortune; for, when her majesty thought fit to assemble an army at Tilbury, for the defence of the kingdom against the Spanish invasion, she gave the command of it, under herself, to the earl of Leicester, and created the earl of Essex general of the horse. From this time he was considered as the favourite declared; and if there was any mark yet wanting to rix the people’s opinion in that respect, it was shewn by the queen’s conferring on him the honour of the garter.

So quick an elevation, and to so great an height, unfortunately excited an impetuosity of spirit that was natural to the earl of Essex, who, among other instances of uncontrouled temper, often behaved petulantly to the queen herself t who did not admit, while she sometimes provoked, freedoms of that kind from her subjects. His eagerness about this time to dispute her favour with sir Charles Blunt, afterwards lord Montjoy and earl of Devonshire, ended in a duel, in which sir Charles wounded him in the knee. The queen, so far from being displeased with it, is said to have sworn a good round oath, that it was fit somebody should take him down, otherwise there would be no ruling him, yet she assisted in reconciling the rivals; who, to their honour, continued good friends as long as they lived. la 1589, sir John Norris and sir Francis Drake having undertaken an expedition for restoring don Antonio to the crown of Portugal, the earl of Essex, willing to share the glory, followed the fleet and army to Spain; which displeasing the queen very bighty, as it was done without her consent or knowledge, she sent him the following letter: “Essex, your sudden and undutifnl departure from our presence and your place of attendance, you may easily conceive how offensive it is and ought to be unto us. Our great favours, bestowed upon you without deserts, have drawn you. thus to neglect and forget your duty; for other construction we cannot make of these your strange actions. Not meaning, therefore, to tolerate this your disordered part, we gave directions to some of our privy-council, to let you know our express pleasure for your immediate repair hither, which you have not performed as your duty doth bind you, increasing thereby greatly your former offence and undutiful behaviour in departing in such sort without our privity, having so special office of attendance and charge near our person. We do therefore charge and command you forthwith, upon the receipt of these our letters, all excuses and delays set apart, to make your present and immediate repair nnto us, to understand our farther pleasure. Whereof see you fail not, as you will be loth to incur our indignation, and will answer for the contrary at your uttermost peril. The 15th of April, 1589.”

At his return, however, he soon recovered her majesty’s good graces, but again irritated her by a private match \ttth Frances, only daughter of sir Francis Walsingham, and widow of sir Philip Sidney. This her majesty apprehended to be derogatory to the honour of the house of Essex; and, though for the present, little notice was taken of it, yet it is thought that it was not soon forgot. In 1591, he went abroad, at the head of some forces, to assist Henry IV. of France: which expedition was afterwards repeated, but with little or no success. In 1592-3, we find him present in the parliament at Westminster, about which time the queen made him one of her privy-council. He met, however, in this and the succeeding years, with various causes of chagrin, partly from the loftiness of his own temper, but chiefly from the artifices of those who envied his great credit with the queen, and were desirous to reduce his power within bounds. Thus a dangerous and treasonable book, written abroad by Parsons, a Jesuit, and published under the name of Doleman, with a view of creating dissension in England about the succession to the crown, was dedicated to him, on purpose to make him odious; and it had its effect. But what chiefly soured his spirit, was his perceiving plainly, that though he could in most suits prevail for himself, yet he was able to do little or nothing for his friends. This appeared remarkably in the case of sir Francis Bacon, which the earl bore with much impatience; and, resolving that his friend should not be neglected, gave him of his own a small estate in land. There are indeed few circumstances in the life of this noble person, that do greater honour to his memory, than his patronage of men of parts and learning. It was this regard for genius which induced him to bury the immortal Spenser at his own expence; and in the latter part of his life, engaged him to take the learned sir Henry Wotton, and the ingenious Mr. Cuffe, into his service: as in his earlier days he had admitted the incomparable brothers, Anthony and Francis Bacon, to share his fortunes and his cares.

But whatever disadvantages the earl might labour under from* intrigues at court, the queen had commonly recourse to his assistance in all dangers and difficulties, and placed him at the head of her fleets and armies, preferably to any other person. His enemies, on the other hand, were contriving and exerting all they could against him, by insinuating to the queen, that, considering his popularity, it would not be at all expedient for her service to receive such as he recommended to civil employments; and they carried this so far, as even to make his approbation a sufficient objection to men whom they had encouraged and recommended themselves. In 1598, a warm dispute arose in the council, between the old and wise lord-treasurer Burleigh and the earl of Essex, about continuing the war with Spain. The earl was for it, the treasurer against it; who at length grew into a great heat, and told the earl that he seemed intent upon nothing but blood and slaughter. The earl explained himself, and said, that the blood and slaughter of the queen’s enemies might be very lawfully his intention; that he was not against a solid, but a specious and precarious peace; that the Spaniards were a subtle and ambitious people, who had contrived to do England more mischief in the time of peace, than of war, &c. The treasurer at last drew out a Prayer-book, in which he shewed Essex this expression: “Men of blood shall not live out half their days.” As the earl knew that methods would be used to prejudice him with the people of England, especially the trading part, who would easily be persuaded to think themselves oppressed by taxes levied for the support of the war, he resolved to vindicate his proceedings, and for that purpose drew up in writing his own arguments, which he addressed to his dear friend Anthony Bacon. This apology stole into the world not long after it was written; and the queen, it is said, was exceedingly offended at it. The title of it runs thus: “To Mr. Anthony Bacon, an Apologie of the Earle of Essexe, against those which falselie and maliciouslie take him to be the only hindrance of the peace and quiet of his countrie.” This was reprinted in 1729, under the title of “The Earl of Essex’s vindication of the war with Spain,” in 8vo.

About this time died the treasurer Burleigh, which was a great misfortune to the earl of Essex; for that lord having shewn a tenderness for the earl’s person, and a concern for his fortunes, had many a time stood between him and his enemies. But now, this guardian being gone, they acted without any restraint, crossed whatever he proposed, stopped the rise of every man he loved, and treated all his projects with an air of contempt. He succeeded lord Burleigh as chancellor of the university of Cambridge; and, going down, was there entertained with great magnificence*. This is reckoned one of the last instances of this great man’s felicity, who was now advanced too high to sit at ease; and those who longed for his honours and employments, very closely applied themselves to bring about his fall. The first great shock he received came from the queen herself, and arose from a warm dispute with her majesty about the choice of some fit and able person to superintend the affairs of Ireland. Camden tells us, that there were only present on this remarkable occasion, the lord admiral, sir Robert Cecil, secretary; and “Windebanke, clerk of the seal. The queen considered sir William Knolls, uncle to Essex, as the most proper person for that charge: Essex contended, that sir George Carew was a much fitter man for it. When the queen could not be persuaded to approve his choice, he so far forgot himself and his duty, as to turn his back upon her in a contemptuous manner; which insolence her majesty not being able to bear, gave him a box on the ear, and, somewhat in her father’s language, bid him” go and be hanged.“He immediately clapped his hand on his sword, and the lord admiral stepping in between, he swore a great oath, declaring that he neither could nor would put up an affront of that nature; that he would not have taken it at the hands of Henry VIII. and in a great passion immediately withdrew from court. The lord keeper advised him to apply himself to the queen for pardon. He sent the lord keeper his answer in a long and passionate letter, which his friends afterwards unadvisedly communicated; in which he appealed from the queen to God Almighty, in expressions to this purpose:” That there was no tempest so boisterous as the resentment of an angry prince; that

preceding April. He did not succeed the authority of the queen, who recomin the contest; for being generally mended by letters Thomas Sackville,

parly, as his deceased father-in-law chosen, had been, the interest of the lord chanthe queen was of a flinty temper; that he well enough knew what was due from him as a subject, an earl, and grand marshal of England, but did not understand the office of a drudge or a porter; that to own himself a criminal was to injure truth, and the author of it, God Almighty: that his body suffered in every part of it by that blow given by his prince; and that it would be a crime in him to serve a queen who had given him so great an affront." He was afterwards reconciled and restored in appearance to the queen’s favour, yet there is good reason to doubt whether he ever recovered it in reality: and his friends have generally dated his ruin from this singular dispute *.

The ear) met with nothing in Ireland but disappointments, in the midst of which, an army was suddenly raised in England, under the command of the earl of Nottingham; nobody well knowing why, but in reality from the suggestions of the earl’s enemies to the queen, that he rather meditated an invasion on his native country, than the reduction of the Irish rebels. This and other considerations made him resolve to quit his post, and come over to England; which he accordingly did, and presented himself before the queen. He met with a tolerable reception; but was soon after confined, examined, and dismissed from all his offices, except that of master of the horse. In the summer of“1600, he recovered his liberty; and in the autumn following, he received Mr. Cuffe, who had been his secretary in Ireland (See Cuffe), into his councils. Cuffe, who was a man of his own disposition, laboured to persuade him, that submission would never do him any good; that the queen was in the hands of a faction, who were his enemies; and that the only way to restore his fortune was to obtain an audience, by whatever means he could, in order to represent his case. The earl did not consent at first to this dangerous advice; but afterwards, giving a loose to his passion, began to declare himself openly, and among other fatal expressions let fall this, that” the queen grew old and cankered; and that her mind was become as crooked as her carcase.“His enemies, who had exact intelligence of all that he proposed, and had provided effectually against the execution of his designs, hurried him upon his fate by a message, sent on the evening of Feb. 7, requiring him to attend the council, which he declined. This appears to have unmanned him, and in his distraction of mind, he gave out, that they sought his life kept a watch in Essex-house all night; and summoned his friends for his defence the next morning. Many disputes ensued, and some blood was spilt; but the earl at last surrendered, and was carried that night to the archbishop’s palace at Lambeth, and the next day to the Tower. On the 19th, he was arraigned before his peers, and after a long trial was sentenced to lose his head: upon which melancholy occasion he said nothing more than this, viz.” If her majesty had pleased, this body of mine might have done her better service; however, I shall be glad if it may prove serviceable to her any way.“He was executed upon the 25th, in his thirty-fourth year, leaving behind him one only son and two daughters. As to his person, he is reported to have been tall, but not very well made; his countenance reserved; his air rather martial than courtly; very careless in dress, and a little addicted to trifling diversions, He was learned, and a lover of learned men, whom he always encouraged and rewarded. He was sincere in his friendships, but not so careful as he ought to have been in making a right choice; sound in his morals, except in point of gallantry, and thoroughly well affected to the protestant religion. Historians inform us, that as to his execution, the queen remained irresolute to the very last, and sent sir Edward Carey to countermand it but, as Camden says, considering afterwards his obstinacy in refusing to ask her pardon, she countermanded those orders, and directed that he should die. There is an odd story current in the world about a ring, which the chevalier Louis Aubrey de Mourier, many years the French minister in Holland, and a man of great parts and unsuspected credit, delivers as an undoubted truth; and that upon the authority of an English minister, who might be well presumed to know what he said. As the incident is remarkable, and has made much noise, we will report it in the words of that historian:” It will not, I believe, be thought either impertinent or disagreeable to add here, what prince Maurice had from the mouth of Mr. Carleton, ambassador of England in Holland, who died secretary of state so well known under the name of lord Dorchester, and who was a man of great merit. He said, that queen Elizabeth gave the earl of Essex a ring, in the height of her passion for him, ordering him to keep it; and that whatever he should commit, she would pardon him when he should return that pledge. Since that time the earl’s enemies having prevailed with the queen, who, besides, was exasperated against him for the contempt he had shewed her beauty, now through age upon the decay, she caused him to be impeached. When he was condemned, she expected to receive from him the ring, and would have granted him his pardon according to her promise. The earl, finding himself in the last extremity, applied to admiral Howard’s lady, who was his relation; and desired her, by a person she could trust, to deliver the ring into the queen’s own hands. But her husband, who was one of the earl’s greatest enemies, and to whom she told this imprudently, would not suffer her to acquit herself of the commission; so that the queen consented to the earl’s death, being full of indignation against so proud and haughty a spirit, who chose rather to die than implore her mercy. Some time after, the admiral’s lady fell sick; and, being given over by her physicians, she sent word to the queen that she had something of great consequence to tell her before she died. The queen came to her bedBide i and having ordered all her attendants to withdraw, the admiral’s lady returned her, but too late, that ring from the earl of Essex, desiring to be excused for not having returned it sooner, since her husband had prevented her. The queen retired immediately, overwhelmed with the utmost grief; she sighed continually for a fortnight, without taking any nourishment, lying in bed entirely dressed, and getting up an hundred times a night. At last she died with hunger and with grief, because she had consented to the death of a lover who had applied to her for mercy." Histoire de Hollancle, p. 215, 216.

It has been surmised that the earl of Essex used the pen, first, of Francis Bacon, and afterwards of Cuffe. Speaking of Bacon, Dr. Birch observes, that it is certain that Essex did not want any such assistance, and could not have had it upon many and most important occasions, which required him to write' some of the most finished of his epistolary performances, the style of which is not only very different from, but likewise much more natural, easy, and perspicuous than that of his friend, who acknowledges it to be “far better than his own.” With regard to Cuffe, Mr. Walpole remarks, that he might have some hand in collecting the materials relative to business, but that there runs through all the earl’s letters a peculiarity of style, so adapted to his situation and feelings, as could not have been felt for him or dictated by any body else.

It was as a prose-writer that the earl of Essex excelled, and not as a poet. He is said to have translated one of Ovid’s Epistles; and a few of his sonnets are preserved in the Ashmolean museum. They display, however, no marks of poetic genius. “But if Essex,” says Mr. Warton, “was no poet, few noblemen of his age were more courted by poets. From Spenser to the lowest rhymer he was the subject of numerous sonnets, or popular ballads. I will not except Sydney. I could produce evidence to prove, that he scarcely ever went out of England, or even left London, on the most frivolous enterprize, without a pastoral in his praise, or a panegyric in metre, which were sold and sung in the streets. Having interested himself in the fashionable poetry of the times, he was placed high in the ideal Arcadia now just established; and, among other instances which might be brought, on his return from Portugal in 1589 he was complimented with a poem called” An Egloge gratulatorie entituled to the right honorable and renowned shepherd of Albion’s Arcadia, Robert earl of Essex, and for his returne lately into England.“This is a light in which lord Essex is seldom viewed. I know not if the queen’s fatal partiality, or his own inherent attractions, his love of literature, his heroism, integrity, and generosity, qualities which abundantly overbalance his presumption, his vanity, and impetuosity, had the greater share in dictating these praises. If adulation were any where justifiable, it must be when paid to the man who endeavoured to save Spenser from starving in the streets of Dublin, and who buried him in Westminster-abbey with becoming solemnity. Spenser was persecuted by Burleigh because he was patronised by Essex.”

, son to the former, and third earl of Essex, was born in 1592, at Essex-house, in the Strand; and at the time of his father’s unhappy death, was under the care of his grandmother, by whom he was sent to Eton school, where he was first educated. In the month of January 1602, he was entered a gentleman-commoner of Merton- college, Oxford, where he had an apartment in the warden’s lodgings, then Mr. Savile, afterwards the celebrated sir Henry Savile, his father’s dear friend, and who, for his sake, was exceedingly careful in seeing that he was learnedly and religiously educated. The year following, he was restored to his hereditary honours; and in 1605, when king James visited the university of Oxford, our young earl of Essex was created M. A. on the 30th of August, for the first tirne, which very probably he had forgotten, or he would not have received the same honour above thirty years afterwards. He was already in possession of his father’s high spirit, of which he gave a sufficient indication in a quarrel which he had with prince Henry. Some dispute arose between them at a game at tennis; the prince called his companion the son of a traitor; who retaliated by giving him a severe blow with his racket; and the king was obliged to interfere to restore peace. At the age of fourteen, he was betrothed to lady Frances Howard, who was still younger than himself; but he immediately set out on his travels, and during his absence the affections of his young wife were estranged from him, and fixed upon the king’s favourite, Carr, afterwards earl of Somerset. The consequence was a suit instituted against the husband for impotency, in which, to the disgrace of the age, the king interfered, and which ended in a divorce. The earl of Essex, feeling himself disgraced by the sentence, retired to his country seat, and spent some years in rural sports and amusements. In 120, being wearied of a state of inaction, he joined the earl of Oxford in a military expedition to the Palatinate, where they served with companies of their own raising, under sir Horatio Vere, and in the following year they served in Holland, under prince Maurice, In the course of the winter they returned to England, and lord Essex appeared in the ranks of the opposition in parliament. On this account he was not favourably received at court, which was the mean of attaching him the more closely to foreign service. He commanded a regiment raised in England for the United States in 1624, and though nothing very important was atchieved by the English auxiliaries, yet he acquired experience, and distinguished himself among the nobility of the time. On the accession of Charles I. he was employed as vice-admiral in an expedition against Spain, which proved unsuccessful. In 1626, he made another campaign in the Low Countries, and shortly after he formed another unhappy match, by marrying the daughter of sir William Paulet, from whom, owing to her misconduct, he was divorced within two years. He now resolved to give himself up entirely to public life; he courted popularity, and made friends among the officers of the army and the puritan ministers. He was, however, employed by the king in various important services; but when the king and court left the metropolis, lord Essex pleaded in excuse his obligation to attend in his place as a peer of the realm, and was accordingly deprived of all his employments; a step which alone seemed wanting to fix him in opposition to the king; and in July 1642 he accepted the post of general of the parliamentary army. He opposed the king in person at Edge-hill, where the victory was so indecisive, that each party claimed it as his own. After this he was successful in some few instances, but in other important trusts he did little to recommend him to the persons in whose interests he was employed. He was, however, treated with external respect, until the self-denying ordinance threw him entirely out of the command: he resigned his commission, but not without visible marks of discontent. Unwilling to lose him altogether, the parliament voted that he should be raised to a dukedom, and be allowed 10,000l. per annum, to support his new dignity; but these were vented by a sudden death, which, as in the case of his grandfather, was by some attributed to unfair means. He died September 14, 1646. Parliament directed a public funeral for him, which was performed with great solemnity in the following month, at Westminster abbey. In his conduct, the particulars of which may be seen in the history of the times, a want of steadiness is to be discovered, which candour would refer to the extraordinary circumstances in which public men were then placed. Personal affronts at court, whether provoked or not, led him to go a certain length with those who, he did not perceive, wanted to go much farther, and although he appeared in arms against his sovereign, no party was pleased with his efforts to preserve a balance; yet, with all his er/ors, Hume and other historians, not friendly to the republican cause, have considered his death as a public misfortune. Hume says, that fully sensible of the excesses to which affairs had been carried, and of the worse consequences which were still to be apprehended, he had resolved to conciliate a peace, and to remedy as far as possible all those ills to which, from mistake rather than any bad intention, he had himself so much contributed. The presbyterian, or the moderate party among the commons, found themselves considerably weakened by his death; and the small remains of authority which still adhered to the house of peers, were in a manner wholly extinguished.

, an eminent French architect, was born at Paris, Nov. 9, 1729. He was educated by one of his uncles, and from his earliest infancy discovered an. unconquerable partiality for the study and practice of architecture, in which he afterwards became a great proficient. His chief master was Lejay, who at this period had just established a new school of the profession, and recovered it from the contempt in which it had been held from the age of Lewis XIV. In 1752 Dewailly obtained the chief architectural prize, and the privilege of studying at Rome for three years, at the expence of the nation. Upon this success, his biographer notices an action truly generous and laudable in the mind of an emulous young man. The student to whom the second prize was decreed, and whose name was Moreau, appeared extremely sorrowful. Dewailly interrogated him upon the subject of his chagrin; and learning that it proceeded from his having lost the opportunity of prosecuting his profession in Italy, he flew to the president of the architectural committee, and earnestly solicited permission that his unfortunate rival might be allowed to travel to Rome as well as himself. On an objection being adduced from the established rules “Well, well,” replied he, “I yet know a mode of reconciling every thing. I am myself allotted three years; of these I can dispose as I like; I give eighteen months of them to Moreau.” This generous sacrifice was accepted; and Dewailly was amply rewarded by the public esteem which accompanied the transaction. In most of the modern buildings of taste and magnificence in his own country, Dewailly was a party employed, and many of his designs are engraven in the Encyclopedic and in Laborde’s Description of France. He was a member of the academy of painting, as well as that of architecture; in the latter of which he was at once admitted into the higher class, without having, as is customary, passed through the inferior. Of the national institute he was a member from its establishment. He died in 1799, having been spared the affliction of beholding one of his most exquisite pieces of workmanship, the magnificent hall of the Odeon, destroyed by fire, a catastrophe which occurred but a short time after his demise.

D‘Ewes (Sir Symonds), an English historian and antiquary, was the son of Paul D’Eues, esq. and born in 1602, at Coxden in Dorsetshire, the seat of Richard Syxnonds, esq. his mother’s father. He was descended from an ancient family in the Low Countries, from whence his ancestors removed hither, and gained a considerable settlement in the county of Suffolk. In 1618, he was entered a fellow- commoner of St. John’s college in Cambridge and about two years after, began to collect materials for forming a correct and complete history of Great Britain. He was no less studious in preserving the history of his own times; setting down carefully the best accounts he was able to obtain of every memorable transaction, at the time it happened. This disposition in a young man of parts recommended him to the acquaintance of persons of the first rank in the republic of letters, such as Cotton, Selden, Spelman, &c. In 1626, he married Anne, daughter to sir William Clopton of Essex, an exquisite beauty, not fourteen years old, with whom he was so sincerely captivated, that his passion for her seems to have increased almost to a degree of extravagance, even after she was his wife. He pursued his studies, however, as usual, with great vigour and diligence, and when little more than thirty years of age, finished that large and accurate work for which he is chiefly memorable. This work he kept by him during his life-time it being written, as he tells us, for his own private use. It was published afterwards with this title “The Journals of all the Parliaments during the reign of queen Elizabeth, both of the House of Lords and House of Commons, collected by sir Symonds D'Ewes, of Stowhall in the county of Suffolk, knt. and bart. revised and published by Paul Bowes, of the Middle Temple, esq. 1682,” folio. In 1633, he resided at Islington in Middlesex. In 1639, he served the office of high sheriff of the county of Suffolk, having been knighted some time before and in the long parliament, which was summoned to meet Nov. 3, 1640, he was elected burgess for Sudbury in that county. July 15, 1641, he was created a baronet; yet upon the breaking out of the civil war, he adhered to the parliament, and took the solemn league and covenant in 1643. He sat in this parliament till Dec. 1648, when he was turned out among those who were thought to have some regard left for the person of the king, and the old constitution in church and state. He died April 18, 1650, and was succeeded in his titles and large estate by his son Willoughby D'Ewes; to whom the above Journals were dedicated, when published, by his cousin Paul Bowes, esq. who was himself a gentleman of worth and learning.

Though these labours of sir Symonds contributed not a little to illustrate the general history of Great Britain, as well as to explain the important transactions of one of the most glorious reigns in it, yet two or three circumstances of his life have occasioned him to have been set by writers in perhaps a more disadvantageous light than he deserved; not to mention that general one, common to many others, of adhering to the parliament during the rebellion. Having occasion to write to archbishop Usher in 1639, he unfortunately let fall a hint to the prejudice of Camden’s *' Britannia;“for, speaking of the time and pains he had spent in collecting materials for an accurate history of Great Britain, and of his being principally moved to this task, by observing the many mistakes of the common writers, he adds,” And indeed what can be expected from them, considering that, even in the so much admired ‘Britannia’ of Camden himself, there is not a page, at least hardly a page, without errors?“This letter of his afterwards coming to light, among other epistles to that learned prelate, drew upon him the heaviest censures. Smith, the writer of the Latin life of Camden, assures us, that his” Britannia“was universally approved by all proper judges, one only, sir Symonds D'Ewes, excepted; who,” moved,“says he,” by I know not what spirit of envy, gave out that there was scarce a page,“&c. Nicolson, in his account of Camden’s work, says, that” some early attempts were made by an envious person, one Brook or Brookmouth, to blast the deservedly great reputation of this work but they perished and came to nothing; as did likewise the terrible threats given out by sir Symonds D'Ewes, that he would discover errors in every page.“Bishop Gibson has stated the charge against this gentleman more mildly, in his Life of Camden, prefixed to the English translation of his Britannia.” In the year 1607,“says the bishop,” he put the last hand to his Britannia, which gained him the titles of the Varro, Strabo, and Pausanias of Britain, in the writings and letters of other learned men. Nor did it ever after meet with any enemies that I know of, only sir Symonds D‘Ewes encouraged us to hope for animadversions upon the work, after he had observed to a very great man, that there was not a page in it without a fault. But it was only threatening; and neither the world was the better, nor was Mr. Camden’s reputation e’er the worse for it." Sir Symonds was certainly not defensible for throwing out at random, as it should seem, such a censure against a work universally well received, without ever attempting to support it; yet some have excused him by saying that this censure was contained in a private letter; and that sir Symonds had a high sense of Camden’s merit, whom he mentions very respectfully in the preface to his Journals, &c.

"Blest is the heart and hand that sincerely sends these meaner lines, if another heart and eye gratiouslie daigne to pittie the wound of the first, and the numnes of the latter: and thus may this other poore inclosed carcanett, if not adorn the purer neck, yet be hidden in the private cabinet of her, whose humble sweetness and sweet humility deserve the justest honour, the greatest thankfulness. Nature made stones, but opinion jewels; this, without your milder acceptance and opinion, will prove neither stone nor jewel. Do but enhappie him that sent it in the ordinary use of it, who though unworthie in himself, yet resolves to continue your humblest servant,

, a painter of history and portrait, was born at Amsterdam in 1695, and acquired the principles of his art from Albert Spiers, a portrait painter. He afterwards became a disciple of Jaques Van Halen, an historical painter of considerable reputation; under whose instructions he made great improvement, particularly by copying some capital paintings of Rubens and Vandyke. In 1713, he obtained the first prize in the academy, for designing after a living model, and the first prize for painting history; and he became more known by sketching several of the ceilings in the Jesuits’ church at Antwerp, originally painted by Rubens and Vandyke, which had been much injured by lightning. He declined the painting of portraits, though much solicited to engage in this branch of his art, and chiefly restricted himself to the painting of ceilings and grand apartments, in which he excelled by an elegance of taste, and tolerable correctness of design. His most noted work was for the burgo masters of Amsterdam, in their great council-chamber; in which he chose for his subject Moses appointing the 70 elders, and which he executed in a manner highly honourable to him as an artist. Without ever having seen Rome, he acquired the style of the Italian masters, by studying after the finest designs of the best artists of that country, which he collected with great judgment and ex pence. The colouring of Dewit is extremely good, and his compositions are grand and pleasing; his pencil is free, and his touch abounds with spirit and brilliancy; and a better taste of design would have rendered him truly eminent. But his singular excellence consisted in his imitations of bas-relief in stone, wood, or plaster, which he painted both in oil and in fresco, so as to give them the appearance of real carvings. His sketches, though slight, are much admired for their freedom and spirit, and are purchased by persons of the best taste. This artist, who died at Amsterdam in 1754, etched, from his own designs, a set of six small plates, representing “groupes of boys,” which are executed in a very spirited style; and the “Virgin and Child.”

, the famous pensionary of Holland, was the second son of Jacob De Witt, burgomaster of Dort, and deputy to the states of Holland; and born in 1625. He was educated at Dort, and made so great a progress in his studies, that at twenty-three he published “Elementa Curvarum Linearum” one of the ablest books in mathematics that had appeared in those days. After he had taken the degree of LL. D. he travelled for some years; and, on his return in 1650, became a pensionary of Dort, and distinguished himself early in the management of public affairs. He opposed with all his power the war between the English and Dutch, representing in strong colours the necessary ill consequences of it to the republic: and, when the events justified his predictions, gained so great credit, that he was unanimously chosen pensionary of Holland; first to officiate provisionally, and afterwards absolutely into the office. On this occasion, some of his friends, reminding him of the fate of his predecessor Barnevelt, he replied, that “human life was liable to trouble and danger; and that he thought it honourable to serve his country, which he was resolved to do, whatever returns he might meet with.” The continuance of the war was so visibly destructive to the commerce and interest of the republic, that the pensionary with his friends used all their skill to produce a negociation. Ambassadors were sent to Cromwell, who by this time had called a new parliament. To this assembly the Dutch ministers were directed to apply, but quickly found them very different people from those with whom they had been accustomed to deal; for they entertained the ambassadors with long prayers, and discovered a total ignorance of the business, telling Cromwell, that, if he would assume the supreme authority, they might soon come to a right understanding. This was precisely what he wanted; and though he rejected their advice in words, declaring himself an humble creature of the parliament, yet he soon after found means to get rid of them, and took upon him the government under the title of protector. He then made a peace with the Dutch; the most remarkable condition of which was, the adding a secret article for the exclusion of the house of Orange, to which the States consented by a solemn act. But the article of the exclusion raised a great clamour in Holland: it was insinuated to be suggested to Cromwell by De Witt; and the pensionary and his friends found it difficult to carry points absolutely necessary for the service of the people. The clergy too began to meddle with affairs of state in their pulpits; and, instead of instructing the people how to serve God, were for directing their superiors how to govern their subjects. But his firmness got the better of these difficulties; and so far overcame all prejudices, that when the time of his high office was expired, he was unanimously continued in it, by a resolution of the States, Sept. 15, 1663.

When the famous battle in 1666 was fought between the English and Dutch for three days, he was sent by the States to take a full account of the affair; and he drew up one from the best authorities he could obtain, which is justly esteemed a master-piece in its kind, and a proof of his being as capable of recording great actions as of achieving them. In 1667, finding a favourable conjuncture for executing the great design of the warm republicans, he established the perpetual edict, by which the office of stacltholder was for ever abolished, and the liberty of Holland, as it was supposed, fixed on an eternal basis. In 1672, when the prince of Orange was elected captain and admiral-general, he abjured the stadtholdership. A tumult happened at Dort, and the people declared they would have the prince for stadtholder; to which place he came in person on their invitation, and accepted the office. Most of the other towns and provinces followed the example and seditions arose from these pretences, that the De Witts plundered the state, and were enemies to the house of Orange. The pensionary begged his dismission from the post; which was granted, wiih thanks for his faithful services. He did not affect business, when he saw it was no longer in his power to benefit the public; and he deplored in secret the misfortunes of his country, which, from the highest prosperity, fell, as it were, all at once to the very brink of ruin. The invasion of the French, their rapid progress, their own intestine divisions, spread every where terror and confusion; and the prince of Orange’s party heightened these confusions, in order to ruin the De Witts. The mob were encouraged to pull down a house, in which the pensionary was supposed to lie sick; an attempt was made to assassinate the two brothers on the same day, in different places; the count de Monthas, who had married their sister, was ordered to be arrested in his camp as a traitor, though he had behaved with the greatest bravery. Cornelius De Witt, on the accusation of Ticklaer, a barber, of a design of poisoning the prince, was imprisoned and condemned to exile, though his judges could not declare him guilty. The same ignominious wretch persuaded the people, that he would be rescued out of prison; upon which they instantly armed, and surrounded the place, where it unfortunately happened the pensionary was with his brother. They broke open the doors, insisted on their walking down, and barbarously murdered them. They carried their dead bodies to the gallows, where they hung the pensionary a foot higher than his brother; afterwards mangling their bodies, cut their cloaths in a thousand pieces, and sent them about the country, as trophies of conquest; and some of them, it is said, cut out large pieces of their flesh, which they broiled and ate.

Thus fell this zealous patron of the glory and liberty of his native country, in his 47th year; the greatest genius of his time, and the ablest politician in war as well as peace. He was a frank sincere man, without fraud or artifice, unless his silence might be thought so. Sir W r illiam Temple, who was well acquainted with his character, speaks of him, on various occasions, with the utmost esteem, and with the highest testimonies of praise and admiration. He observes, that when he was at the head of the government, h differed nothing in his manner of living from an ordinary citizen. When he made visits, he was attended only by a single footman; and on common occasions he was frequently seen in the streets without any servant at all. His office, for the first ten years, brought him in little more than 300l. and in the latter part of his life not above 700l. per annum. He refused a gift of 10,000l. from the States, because he thought it a bad precedent in the government. His fortune was much inferior to what, in our times, we see commonly raised by an underclerk in a high office. With great reason, therefore, sir William Temple, speaking of his death, observes, that he “deserved another fate, and a better return from his country, after eighteen years spent in their ministry, without any care of his entertainments or ease, and little of his fortune. A man of unwearied industry, inflexible constancy, sound, clear, and deep understanding, and untainted integrity; so that, whenever he was blinded, it was by the passion he had for that which he esteemed the good and interest of his state. This testimony is justly due to him from all that were well acquainted with him; and is the more willingly paid, since there can be as little interest to flatter, as honour to reproach the dead.” Hume, with equal truth, describes him as “a minister equally eminent for greatness of mind, for capacity, and for integrity. Though moderate in his private deportment, he knew how to adopt in his public councils that magnanimity winch suits the minister of a great state. It was ever his maxim, that no independent government should yield to another any evident point of reason or equity; and that all such concessions, so far from preventing war, served no other purpose than to provoke fresh claims and insults.”

, a native of the island of Melos, surnamed the Atheist, lived in the ninety-first olympiad, or 412 B. C. and was a follower of Democritus. Having been sold as a captive in his youth, he was redeemed by Democritus for 10,000 drachmas, and instead of being made his servant, was trained up in the study of philosophy, for which he had probably showed a capacity. At the same time he cultivated polite learning, and distinguished himself in the art of lyric poetry, which was so successfully practised about that period by Pindar, Bacchylis, and others. His name has been transmitted to posterity as an. avowed advocate for the rejection of all religious belief; and although Clemens Alexandrinus and others have taken pains to exculpate him, by pleading that his only intention was to ridicule heathen superstitions, the general voice of antiquity has so strongly asserted his atheistical principles, that we cannot refuse credit to the report without allowing too much indulgence to historical scepticism. It is easy to conceive, that one who had studied philosophy in the school of Democritus, who admitted no other principles in nature than atoms and a vacuum, would reject the whole doctrine of Deity as inconsistent with the system which he had embraced. And it is expressly asserted by ancient writers, that when, in a particular instance, he saw a perjured person escape punishment *, he publicly declared his disbelief of divine providence, and from that time not only spoke with ridicule of the gods, and of all religious ceremonies, but even attempted to lay open the sacred mysteries, and to dissuade the people from submitting to the rites of initiation. These public insults offered to religion brought upon him the general hatred of the Athenians; who, upon his refusing to obey a summons to appear in the courts of judicature, issued forth a decree, which was inscribed upon a brazen column, offering the reward of a talent to any one who should kill him, or two talents to any one who should bring him alive before the

* The story is thus told: Diagoras work as his own. Diagoras, consiclcrdelighted in making verses, and had ing that he who had injured him had

thief; who swore he was not guilty of glory thereby, concluded that there

great reputation by publishing that wrote some books to prove it. judges. This happened in the ninety-first olympiad. From that time, Diagoras became a fugitive in Attica, and at last fled to Corinth, where he died. It is said, that being on board a ship during a storm, the terrified sailors began to accuse themselves for having received into their ship a man so infamous for his impiety; upon which Diagoras pointed out to them other vessels, which were near them on the sea in equal danger, and asked them, whether they thought that each of these ships also carried a Diagoras? and that afterwards, when a friend, in order to convince him that the gods are not indifferent to human affairs, desired him to observe how many consecrated tablets were hung up in the temples in grateful acknowledgment of the escapes from the dangers of the sea, he said, in reply, “True but here are no tablets of those who have suffered shipwreck, and perished in the sea.” But there is reason to suspect that these tales are mere inventions; for similar stories have been told of Diogenes the Cynic, and others.

, one of the early martyrs to the protestant religion, was born at Cnenza, in Spain, in the beginning of the sixteenth century, and studied theology at Paris, where, from reading the books of Luther and his disciples, he soon embraced his doctrines. This circumstance rendering it necessary to quit Paris, he went to Calvin at Geneva, with whom, and with Budeus and Crispinus, he studied for some time. He then went to Strasburgh, and became known to Bucer, who, perceiving his promising talents, obtained leave of the council of that town to take him with him to the conference at Ratisbon. Diaz was no sooner arrived there, than he found out Malvenda, whom he had known at Paris, who employed the strongest arguments he could muster to induce him to return into the bosom of the church; but Diaz persevered in his opinions. Soon after, having got\e to Nenbnrg, to attend the correcting of a book of Bucer’s which was then at press, he was surprised to see arrive at that place one of his brothers named Alfonsus, an advocate at the court of Rome, who, having heard of his apostacy, as he termed it, immediately set out in hopes to reclaim him, but was not more successful than Malvenda. Instead, however, of lamenting what he might term the obduracy of his brother, he laid a plan against his life; to execute which base purpose, he feigned to return home, and went as far as Augsburg; but the day following he returned, accom.­panied by a guide, and at break of day was again at Neuburg. His first business was to seek his brother accordingly he went straight to his lodgings with his companion, who was disguised as a courier, and waited at the foot of the staircase, while the accomplice went up to the apartment of Diaz, for whom he pretended he had letters to deliver from his brother. Dia/ being roused from sleep, the pretended messenger delivered lam the letters, and while he read them, made a fatal stroke at his head with an axe which he had concealed under his cloak, and fled with his instigator Alfonsus. The report of this murder, which happened March 27, 1546, excited great indignation at Augsburg and elsewhere; the assassins were vigorously pursued, were taken, and imprisoned atlnspruck; but the emperor Charles V. put a stop to the proceedings under pretext that he would take cognizance himself of the affair at the approaching diet. This did not, however, appease the conscience of Alfonsus, the fratricide, who put an end to the torments of reflection by hanging himself. A particular history of the whole transaction was published in Latin under the name of Claude Senarclaeus, 8vo, which is very scarce. Jt was addressed to Bucer, under the title “Historia vera de morte J. Diazii.” Diaz was the author of a “Summary of the Christian Religion,” of which a French translation was published at Lyons, 1562, 8vo.

On his return to Britain, Mr. Hooke, a gentleman with whom he had formed an intimate friendship, and who possessed a large fortune in Pembrokeshire, persuaded him to settle as a physician in that country, where for several years he practised with great reputation and success. But his immediate elder brother, sir William Dick, dying without issue, he succeeded to the family estate and title, assuming from that time the name and arms of Dick; and very soon after fixed his residence at the family-seat of Preston-field. Although he now resolved to relinquish medicine as a lucrative profession, yet, from inclination, he still continued to cultivate it as an useful science. With this view he supported a friendly and intimate correspondence with the physicians of Edinburgh, and paid particular attention to the business of the royal college, among the list of whose members his name had been enrolled at a very early period of his life. In 1756 he was unanimously chosen president of the college, and was afterwards elected to that office for seven years successively. He not only contributed liberally towards the building of a hall for their accommodation, but strenuously exerted himself in promoting every undertaking in which he thought the honour or interest of the college was concerned. He was also long distinguished as a zealous and active member of the philosophical society of Edinburgh, and when the present royal society of Edinburgh received its charter, the name of sir Alexander Dick stood enrolled as one of the first in the list. For many years he discharged the duties of a faithful tfnd vigilant manager of die royal iniirinnrj of Kdinburgh; and took on all occasions an active share in promoting every public and useful undertaking. When the seeds of the true rhubarb were first introduced into Britain by the late Dr. Mounsey of Petersburg!), he not only bestowed great attention on the culture of the plant, but also on the drying of the root, and preparing it for the market. His success in these particulars was so great, that the society in London for the encouragement of arts and commerce, presented him, in 1774, with a gold medal, which is inscribed “To sir Alexander Dick, bart. for the best specimen of British rhubarb.” While steady in the pursuit of every object which engaged his attention, his conduct in every transaction through life was marked with the strictest honour and integrity. This, disposition, and this conduct, not only led him to be constant and warm in his friendship to those with whom he lived in habits of intimacy, but also procured him the love and esteem of all who really knew him. Notwithstanding the keenness and activity of his temper, yet its striking features were mildness and sweetness. He was naturally disposed to put the most favourable construction on the conduct and actions of others, which was both productive of much happiness to himself, and of general benevolence to mankind. And that serenity and cheerfulness which accompanied his conduct through life, were the attendants even of his last moments for on Nov. 10, 1785, he died with a smile upon his countenance, lamented as a great loss to society.

, a celebrated physician and chemist, was son of William Dickinson, rector of Appleton in Berkshire, and born there in 1624. He acquired his classical learning at Eton, and from thence, in 1642, was sent to Merton-college in Oxford. Having regularly taken the degrees in arts, he entered on the study of medicine, and took both the degrees in that faculty. In 1655 he published his “Delphi Phcenicizantes, *kc.” a very learned piece, in which he attempts to prove that the Greeks borrowed the story of the Pythian Apollo, and all that rendered the oracle of Delphi famous, from the holy scriptures, and the book of Joshua in particular *. His work procured him much reputation both at home and abroad; and Sheldon (afterwards archbishop of Canterbury) is said to have had so high a sense of its value, that he would have persuaded the author to have applied himself to divinity, and to have taken orders; but he was already fixed in his choice. To this treatise were added, 1. “Diatriba de Nore in Italiam adventu; ejusque nominibus ethnicis.” 2. “De origine Druidum.” 3. Oratiuncula pro philosophia liberanda,“which had been spoken, by him in the hall of Merton college, July 1653, and was the first tiling which made him known among the learned. 4.” /acharias Bogan Edmundo Dickinson;“a letter filled with citations from the most ancient authors in support of his opinions, and the highest commendations of his learning, industry, and judgment. The” Delphi Phoenicizantes,“&c. came out first at Oxford in 1655, 12mo, and was reprinted at Francfort, 1669, 8vo, and at Rotterdam in 1691, by Crenius, in the first volume of his” Fasciculus dissertation uo> Historico-critico-philologicarum," 12mo. Afterwards Dr. Dickinson applied himself to chemistry with much assiduity; and, about 1662, received a visit from Theodore Mundanus, an illustrious adept of France, who encouraged him mightily to proceed in the study of alchemy, and succeeded in persuading him of the possibility of the transmutation of metals, a credulity for which he probably paid first in his purse, and afterwards in his reputation. At length he left his college, and took a house in the High-street, Oxford, for the sake of following the business of his profession more conveniently. In. li>69 he married for the first time; but his wife dying in child- bed, and leaving him a daughter, he some time after married a second, who also died in a short time. His wives were both gentlewomen of good families.

On the death of Dr. Willis, which happened in 1684, Dickinson removed to London, and took his house in St. Martin’s- lane where, soon after recovering Henry Bennet, earl of Arlington, lord chamberlain to Charles II. when all hopes of recovery were past, that nobleman introcluced him to the king, who made him one of his physicians in ordinary, and physician to his household. As that prince was a lover of chemistry, and a considerable proficient, Dickinson grew into great favour at court; which favour lasted to the end of Charles’s reign, and that of his successor James, who continued him in both his places. In 1636 he published in Latin his epistle to Theodore Mundanus, and also his answer, translated from the French into Latin: for, in 1679, this chemist had paid him a second visit, and renewed his acquaintance. The title of it in English is, “An Epistle of E. D. to T. M. an adept, concerning the quintessence of the philosophers, and the true system of physics, together with certain queries concerning the materials of alchemy. To which are annexed the answers of Mundanus,” 8vo. After the abdication of his unfortunate master, he retired from practice, being old, and much afflicted with the stone, but continued his studies. He had long meditated a system of philosophy, not founded on hypothesis, or even experiment, but, chiefly deduced from principles collected from the Mosaic history. Part of this laborious work, when he had almost finished it, was burnt; but, not discouraged by this accident, he began it a second time, and did not discontinue it, till he had completed the whole. It came out in 1702 under the title of “Physica vetus et vera sive tractatus de naturali veritate hexoemeri Mosaici, &c.” In this he attempts, from the scriptural account of the creation, to explain the manner in which the world was formed. Assuming, as the ground of his theory, the atomic doctrine, and the existence of an immaterial cause of the concourse of indivisible atoms, he supposes the particles of matter agitated by a double motion; one gentle and transverse, of the particles among themselves, whence elementary corpuscles are formed; the other circular, by which the whole mass is revolved, and the regions of heaven and earth are produced. By the motion of the elementary corpuscles of different magnitude and form, he supposes the different bodies of nature to have been produced, and attempts, upon this plan, to describe the process of creation through each of the six days. He explains at large the formation of human nature, shewing in what manner, by means of a plastic seminal virtue, man became an animated being. This theory, though founded upon conjecture, and loaded with unphilosophical fictions, the author not only pretends to derive from the Mosaic narrative, but maintains to have been consonant to the most ancient Hebrew traditions. The use which this theorist makes of the doctrine of atoms, shews him to have been wholly unacquainted with the true notion of the ancients on this subject; and indeed the whole work seems to have ben the offspring of a confused imagination, rather than of a sound judgment. Burnet, who attempted the same design afterwards, discovered far more learning and ability. This work, however, was in such demand as to be printed again at Rotterdam in 1703, in 4to, and at Leoburg, 1705, 12mo.

, an eminent divine of the church of Scotland, the son of John Dickson, a merchant in Glasgow, was born about 1583, and educated at the university of his native city. After taking the degree of M. A. he was admitted regent, or professor of philosophy, an office which, at that time, somewhat after the manner of the foreign universities, was held only for a term of years (in this case, of eight years) after which these regents received ordination. Accordingly, in 1618, Mr. Dickson was ordained minister of the town of Irvine, which preferment he held about twenty-three years, and became a very popular preacher. Although always inclined to the presbyterian form of church-government, he had shewn no great reluctance to the episcopal forms until the passing of what are known, in the ecclesiastical history of Scotland, by the name of the Perth articles; five articles, which enjoined kneeling at the sacrament; private adtninistratioa of it in extreme sickness; private baptism, if necessary; episcopal confirmation; and the observation of Epiphany, Christmas, &c. These, however harmless they may appear to an English reader, were matters not only of objection, but abhorrence to a great proportion of the Scotch clergy; and Mr. Dickson having expressed his dislike in strong terms, and probably in the pulpit, was suspended from his pastoral charge, and ordered to remove to Turriff, in the north of Scotland, within twenty days. After much interest, however, had been employed, for he had many friends among persons of rank, who respected his talents and piety, he was allowed in 1623 to return to Irvine. As during the progress of the rebellion in England, the power of the established church decayed also in Scotland, Dickson exerted himself with considerable effect in the restoration of the presbyterian form of church-government, and there being a reluctance to this change on the part of the learned divines of Aberdeen, he went thither in 1637, and held solemn disputations with Doctors Forbes, Barron, Sibbald, &c. of that city, which were afterwards published. In 1641 he was removed from Irvine to be professor of divinity in the university of Glasgow; and in 1643 he assisted in drawing up some of those formularies which are contained in the “Confession of Faith,” a book which is still subscribed by the clergy of Scotland. The “Directory for public worship,” and “The sum of saving knowledge,” were from his pen, assisted, in the former, by Henderson and Calderwood and in the latter, by Durham. Some years after, probably about 1645, he was invited to the elmir of professor of divinity at Edinburgh, which he held until the restoration, when he was ejected for refusing the oath of supremacy. He did not survive this long, dying in 1662. He was esteemed one of the ablest and most useful men of his time, in the promotion of the church of Scotland as now established, and his writings have been accounted standard books with those who adhere to her principles as originally laid down. His principal works are, I. “A Commentary on the Hebrews,” 8vo. 2. “On Matthew,” 4to. 3. “On the Psalms,” 1655, 3 vols. 12mo. 4. “On the Epistles,” Latin and English, folio and 4to. 5. “Therapeutica Sacra, or Cases of Conscience resolved,” Latin 4to, English 8vo. 6. “A treatise on the Promises,” Dublin, 1630, 12mo. Besides these he wrote some pieces of religious poetry for the common people, and left several Mss. As he had had a considerable hand in the “Confession of Faith,” he lectured, when professor of divinity, on that book, the heads of which lectures were afterwards published, as he had delivered them, in Latin, under the title “Prelectiones in Confessionem Fidei,” folio but they have been since translated and often reprinted, under the title of “Truth’s Victory over Error,” one of the most useful, and now, we believe, the only one of his works which continues still popular in Scotland. Prefixed is a life of the author by Woodrow, the ecclesiastical historian, from which we have extracted the above particulars.

, is the supposed name of a very ancient historian, who, serving under Idomeneus, a king of Crete, in the Trojan war, wrote the history of that expeilition in nine books; and Tzetzes tells us, that Homer formed his Iliad upon his plan: but the Latin history of Dictys, which we have at present, is altogether spurious. There are two anonymous writers still extant, who pretend to have written of the Trojan war previously to Homer, one of whom goes under the name of Dictys Cretensis, the other that of Dares Phrygius, of which last we have already taken some notice. Before the history of Dictys there are two prefaces the first of which relates that Dictys wrote six volumes of the Trojan war in the Phœnician characters; and in his old age, after he was returned to his own country, ordered them, a little before his death, to be buried with him in a leaden chest or repository, which was accordingly done; that, however, after many ages, and under the reign of Nero, an earthquake happened at Cnosus, a city of Crete, which uncovered Dictys’s sepulchre, and exposed the chest; that the shepherds took it up, and expecting a treasure, opened it; and that, finding this history, they sent it to Nero, who ordered it to be translated, or rather transcharactered, from Phoenician into Greek. It has been inferred from this story that the history was forged by some of Nero’s flatterers, as he always affected a fondness for any thing relating to Trojan antiquities. The other preface to Dictys is an epistle of L. Septimius, the Latin translator, in which he inscribes it to Arcadius Kuffinus, who was consul in the reign of Constantino; and tells nearly the same story of the history we have already related. That the present Latin Dictys had a Greek original, now lost, appears from the numerous Grecisms with which it abounds; and from the literal correspondence of many passages with the Greek fragments of one Dictys cited by ancient authors. The Greek original was very probably, as we have just hinted, forged under the name of Dictys, a traditionary writer on the subject, in the reign of Nero. The best editions of Dictys and Dares Phrygius, are that of madame Dacier, Paris, 1680, 4to, and that of Smids, 4to and 8vo, Anist. 1702, 2 volumes.

Diderot, who had been working at this dictionary for near twenty years, had not received a gratuity proportionate to his trouble and his zeal, and saw himself not long after the publication of the last volumes, reduced to the necessity of exposing his library to sale, which he pretended to be very copious and valuable. The empress of Russia ordered it to be bought for her at the price of fifty thousand livres, and left him the use of it. It is said, that when her ambassador wanted to see it, after a year or two’s payments, and the visitation could be no longer put off, Diderot was obliged to run in a hurry through all the booksellers shops in Germany, to fill his empty shelves with old volumes. He had the good fortune to save appearances; but the trick was discovered, because he had been niggardly in his attention to the ambassador’s secretary. This, however, did not hinder him from visiting the empress, where he behaved in such a manner, that her majesty thought it necessary to send him back, and he comforted himself for this disgrace, with the idea that the Russians were not yet ripe for the sublimity of his philosophy.

In the mean time, the “Encyclopedic,” which had partly procured its editor these foreign honours and remunerations, gave great offence at home. Certain positions on government and on religion occasioned the impression to be suspended in 1752. At that time there were no more than two volumes of the dictionary published; and the prohibition of the succeeding ones was only taken off at the end of 1753. Five new volumes then successively appeared. But in 1757 a new storm arose, and the book was suppressed. The remainder did not appear till about ten years after; and then was only privately distributed. Some copies were even seized, and the printers were imprisoned in the Bastille. To whatever cause all these interruptions were imputable, Diderot did not suffer his genius to be impeded by the difficulties that were thrown in his way. Alternately serious and sportive, solid and frivolous, he published at the very time he was working on the Dictionary of Sciences, several productions which could scarcely have been thought to proceed from an encyclopedical head. His “Bijoux indiscrets,” 2 vols. 12mo, are of this number a disgusting work, even to those young- people who are unhappily too eager after licentious romances. Even here a certain philosophical pedantry appears, in the very passages where it is most misplaced; and never is the author more aukvvard than when he intends to display a graceful ease. The “Fils naturel,” and the “Pere de Famille,” two comedies in prose, which appeared in 1757 and 1758, are of a superior kind of moral and affecting dramas, where we see at once a nervous style and pathetic sentiments. The former piece is a picture of the trials of virtue, a conflict between interests and passions, wherein love and friendship play important parts. It has been said that Diderot has borrowed it from Golcloni; if that be the case, the copy does honour to the original; and, with the exception of a small number of places, where the author mixes his philosophical jargon with the sentiments, and some sentences out of place, the style is affecting and natural. In the second comedy, a tender, virtuous, and humane father appears, whose tranquillity is disturbed by the parental solicitudes, inspired by the lively and impetuous passions of his children. Tin’s philosophical, moral, and almost tragical comedy, has produced considerable effect on several theatres of Europe. The dedication to the princess of Nassau Saarbruck, is a little moral tract, of a singular turn, without deviating from nature; and proves that the author possessed a great fund of moral sentiments and philosophical ideas. At the end of these two pieces, published together under the title of “Theatre de M. Diderot,” are dialogues containing profound reflections and novel views of the dramatic art. In his plays he has endeavoured to unite the characters of Aristophanes and Plato; and in his reflections he sometimes displays the genius of Aristotle. This spirit of criticism is exhibited, but with too much licence, in two other works, which made a great noise. The former appeared in 1749, 12mo, under the title of “Letters on the blind, for the use of those who sec.” The free notions of the author in this work cost him his liberty, and he underwent a six months imprisonment atVincennes. Having naturally strong passions and a haughty spirit, finding himself on].a sudden deprived of liberty, and of all intercourse with human beings, he had like to have lost his reason; and to prevent this, his keepers were obliged to allow him to leave his room, to take frequent walks, and to receive the visits of a few literary men. J. J. Rousseau, at that time his friend, went and administered consolation to him, which he ought not to have forgot. The letter on the blind was followed by another on the “deaf and dumb, for the use of those who can hear and speak,” 1751, 2 vols. 12mo. Under, this title, the author delivered reflections on metaphysics, on poetry, on eloquence, on music, &c. There are some good things in this essay, mixed with others superficial and absurd. Though he strives to be perspicuous, yet he is not always understood, and indeed, of all “that he has composed on abstract subjects, it has been said that he presents a chaos on which the light shines only at intervals. The other productions of Diderot betray the same defect of clearness and precision, and the same uncouth emphasis for which he has always been blamed. The principal of them are: 1.” Principles of Moral Philosophy,“1745, 12mo, of which the abbe des Fontaines speaks well, though it met with no great success. It was our philosopher’s fate to write a great deal, and not to leave a good book, or at least a book well composed. 2.” History of Greece, translated from the English of Stanyan,“1743, 3 vols. 12mo, an indifferent translation of an indifferent book. 3.” Pieces on several mathematical subjects,“1748, 8vo. 4.” Reflections on the Interpretation of Nature,“1754, 12mo. This interpreter is very obscure. 5.” The Code of Nature,“1755, 12mo, which is certainly not the code of Christianity. 6.” The -Sixth Sense,“1752, 12mo. 7.” Of Public Education,“one of that swarm of publicutio. produced by the appearance of Emilius, and the abolition of the Jesuits but some of his ideas in this work are very judicious, and would be highly useful in the execution. 8.” Panegyric on Richardson,“full of nerve and animation. 9.” Life of Seneca.“This was his last work; and', is one of those which may be perused with most pleasu even while we cannot approve the judgments be passes on beneca and other celebrated men. The abb Barruel says that he was the author of” Systeme de la Nature,“which is usually given to Robinet; and it is certain that if he was not the author, he furnished hints, and revised the whole. Naigeon, his friend and disciple, collected and published his works in 15 vols. 8vo, at Paris, 1797, containing some articles which we have not noticed; and in 18 10 a small publication appeared, entitled” Diderotiana."

It is remarkable that there were moments in which Diderot, notwithstanding his avowed impiety, seems to have been compelled by the force of truth, to pay homage to the New Testament. An acquaintance found him one day explaining it to his daughter, with all the apparent seriousness and energy of a believer. On expressing his surprize, Diderot replied, “I understand your meaning; but after all, where is it possible to find better lessons for her instruction?” This from him who had given so many lessons of a different kind, and had been a more zealous teacher of impiety and profligacy than perhaps any man in France, appears somewhat improbable; yet it may coincide with a report, which is more certain, that in his latter days he shewed some signs of contrition. In 1784 his health began visibly to decline; and one of his domestics, perceiving that his death was at no great distance, acquainted him with his apprehensions, and addressed him on the importance of preparing for another world. He heard the man with attention, thanked him kindly, acknowledged that his situation required seriousness, and promised to weigh well what he had said. Some time after this conversation he desired a priest might be brought, and the same domestic introduced one, whom Diderot saw several times, and was preparing to make a public recantation of his errors. Condorcet, and his other philosophic friends, now crowded about him, persuaded him that he was cheated, that his case was not so dangerous as it was said to be, and that he only wanted the country air to restore him to health. For some time he resisted their attempts to bring him back to atheism, but was at last prevailed upon to leave Paris; and his departure being kept secret, he was concealed in the country till July 2, when he died. His dead body was then secretly brought back to Paris, and his friends eagerly spread the report that he died suddenly on rising from the table, without the least sign of repentance. His character, from what has been said, is not very difficult to be understood. Some of his countrymen extol his frankness, his candour, his disinterestedness, his integrity while others represent him as artful, interested, and concealing iiis cunning- under a cheerful air, and sometimes >ven a rough behaviour which we confess appears more probable, as the genuine result of his principles. Towards the laiter part of uis life he hurt himself in th.: public opinion, by taking up too warmly the pretended ahVo-Ls he imagined to exist against him in the “Confessions” of his old friend J. J. Rousseau; and by this conduct left unfavourable impressions both of his heart and his understanding. This Rousseau, whom he so much decries, praises him in the second manuscript part of his Confessions; but says in one of his letters, that “though naturally kind, i of a generous disposition, Diderot had the unhappy ;>ensity to misinterpret the speeches and actions of his :ids; and that the most ingenuous explanations only furnished the subtilty of his invention with new interpretations against them.” The enthusiasm Diderot displays in some of his productions, appeared in the circle of his, friends, on every topic of discourse. He spoke with rapidity, with vehemence, and the turns of his phrases were often poignant and original. It has been said, that nature by mistake made him a metaphysician, and not a poet; but though he was often a poet in prose, he has left some verses which prove him to have had but little talent for poetry. The intrepid philosophy of which he boasted, affected always to brave the shafts of criticism; and his numerous censors were unable to cure him either of his taste for a system of metaphysics scarcely intelligible, or of his fondness for exclamations and apostrophes which prevailed in his conversation and in his writings. He married, and we are told by his friends, was in domestic life sensible and obliging; easily provoked, but as easily calmed; yielding to transient ebullitions of temper, but generally having it under command. The goodness or badness of his temper, however, as affecting his relatives, is a matter of little consequence, compared to the more extensive mischief which arose from his writings as an infidel, and his example as a profligate. Of the latter we need no more decided proof than the extract from one of his letters to Wilkes, published by lord Teignmouth in his “Life of Sir William Jones.” La Harpe, to whose “Lyceum” we may refer for an impartial account of Diderot, thinks very justly that the principal cause of the success of the French infidels, in gaining readers and followers, arose from their enlisting the passions on their side. Such, says he, is the basis of their system, the general spirit of their sect, and the principle of their success. The method is not very honourable, but with a little address it is almost sure to succeed, at least for a time, for nothing is more easy than to pass off as a theory, a corruption which already exists as a fashion.

, an eminent French printer, who deserves a more satisfactory article than the French biographers have as yet enabled us to give him, was born at Paris in 1730, and was the son of a printer and bookseller, who provided him with an excellent classical education before he introduced him into business. Full of enthusiasm for the advancement of the art of printing, young Didot determined to rival those celebrated printers, Joachim Ibarra of Spain, and Baskerville of England, and lived to surpass both. He soon brought his press to a state of excellence unattained by any of his contemporaries; and extended his skill to every branch connected with it. Among the number of improvements perfected by his exertions, is the construction of mills for making fine paper, which he assisted not only by his zeal and activity, but by pecuniary contribution. He also invented a press by which the workman is enabled to print, equally and at once the whole extent of a sheet; and he was the inventor of many other machines and instruments now commonly used in printing offices, all which have powerfully contributed to the modern advancement of the typographical art. The elegant editions of the classics published by order of Louis XIV. for the education of the Dauphin, were the production of the Didots 1 press, as well as the collection of romances called the D'Artois, in 64 vols. 18mo; the Theatrical Selections by Corneille, the works of Racine, Telemachus, Tasso’s Jerusalem, two superb Bibles, and a multiplicity of other inestimable works, each of which, on its publication, seemed to make nearer approaches to perfection. Didot sedulously endeavoured to unite in his family every talent auxiliary to the printing art; one of his sons became a celebrated type-founder; and the voice of fame announces the superior rank which they both deservedly hold among the printers of the age. The fond father delighted to observe that he was excelled by his children; while they dutifully ascribed their success to the force of his instruction, and the benefit of his example. The life of JDidot was the life of honour; his abilities were universally known and respected; and the following anecdote will prove the goodness of his heart: in one of his journeys to the paper mills of Anonay, he met an artist who had introduced in France an improvement in the application of cylinders, &c. and believing that his ingenuity merited reward, exerted all his interest with government; but unfortunately, when he was on the point of succeeding, the artist died, leaving two girls in the helpless state of infancy. Didot took the orphans in his arms, proclaimed himself their father, and kept his word. At the age of seventy-three, Didot read over five times, and carefully corrected, before it was sent to the press, every sheet of the stereotype edition of Montague, printed by his sons. At four o'clock in the morning he was pursuing this fatiguing occupation. The correctness of the text will therefore render this work particularly valuable among the productions of the modern press. About eighteen months previous to his death, he projected an alphabetical index of every subject treated upon in Montague’s Essays. He had collected all his materials, at which he laboured unceasingly; and perhaps too strict an application to this favourite study accelerated the death of this eminent artist and benevolent man, which took place July 10, 1804. His business is still successfully carried on by his sons, Peter and Firmia Didot. The reputation of the elder Didot was much assisted by the labours of his brother, Peter Francis, who died in 1795, and to whom we owe the beautiful editions of Thomas a Kempis, fol. of Telemachus, 4to the “Tableau de l'empire Ottoman,” &c.

, of Alexandria, was an ecclesiastical writer of the fourth century, who supplied a very important defect by dint of genius and application. Jerome and Ruffinus assure us that though he lost his eyes at five years of age, when he had scarcely learned to read, yet he applied himself so earnestly to study, that he not only attained in a high degree grammar, rhetoric, logic, arithmetic, music, and the other arts, but even was able to comprehend some of the most difficult theorems in mathematics. He was particularly attached to the study of the Scriptures; and was selected as the most proper person to fill the chair in the famous divinity-school at Alexandria. His high reputation drew a great number of scholars to him; among the principal of whom were Jerome, Ruffinus, Palladius, and Isidorus. He read lectures with wonderful facility, answered upon the spot all questions and difficulties relating to the Holy Scriptures, and refuted the objections which were raised against the orthodox faith. He was the author of a great number of works of which Jerome has preserved the titles in his catalogue of ecclesiastical writers; and of many more whose titles are not known. We have yet remaining a Latin translation of his book upon the Holy Spirit, to be found in the works of Jerome, who was the translator; and which is perhaps the best treatise the Christian world ever saw upon the subject. Whatever has been said since that time, in defence of the divinity and personality of the Holy Ghost, seems, in substance, to be foand in this book. His other works extant are, a treatise against the Manichees, in the original Greek, and “Enarrations upon the seven catholic epistles in Latin,” and in the Greek Chains are fragments of some of his commentaries. J. C. Wolff, of Hamburgh, published a large collection of notes and observations of Didymus upon the Acts of the Apostles, taken from a manuscript Greek chain, at Oxford. See Wolfii Anecdot. Graec. 1724. Didymus also wrote commentaries upon Origen’s books of Principles, which he defended very strenuously against all opposers. He was a great admirer of Origen, used to consider him as his master, and adopted many of his sentiments; on which account he was condemned by the fifth general council. He died in the year 395, aged eightyfive years.

, another of the name, was an eminent musician of Alexandria, and, according to Suidas, cotemporary in the first century with the emperor Nero, by whom he was much honoured and esteemed. This proves him to have been younger than Aristoxenus, and more ancient than Ptolemy, though some have imagined him to have preceded Aristoxenus. He wrote upon grammar and medicine, as well as music; but his works are all lost, and every thing we know at present of his barmonical doctrines is from Ptolemy, who, by disputing, preserved them. However, this author confesses him to have been well versed in the canon and harmonic divisions; and if we may judge from the testimony, even of his antagonist, he must have been not only an able theorist in music, but a man of considerable learning. As this musician preceded Ptolemy, and was the first who introduced the minor tone into the scale, and, consequently, the practical major 3d -f, which harmonized the whole system, and pointed out the road to counterpoint; an honour that most critics have bestowed on Ptolemy, he seems to have a better title to the invention of modern harmony, or music in parts, than Guido, who appears to have adhered, both in theory and practice, to the old division of the scale into major tones and limmas. “The best species of diapason,” says Doni, “and that which is the most replete with fine harmony, and chiefly in use at present, was invented by Didymus. His method was this: after the major semitone E F T-f, he placed the minor tone in the ratio of V, between F G, and afterwards the major tone between G A; but Ptolemy, for the sake of innovation, placed the major tone where Didymus placed the minor.” Ptolemy, however, in speaking of Didymus and his arrangement, objects to it as contrary to the judgment of the ear, which requires the major tone below the minor. The ear certainly determines so with us, and it is therefore probable, that in Ptolemy’s time the major key was gaining ground. Upon the whole, however, it appears that these authors only differ in the order, not the quality of intervals.

, another artist, known in this country, was born at the Hague, in 1655; but spent the greatest part of his life in England, to which he came in his seventeenth year, and where he gradually rose into considerable credit, having been well instructed by his father, who was a skilful painter of sea-pieces. His taste of landscape was formed almost entirely (as he often declared) by designing the lovely views in the western parts of England, and along the coasts. Some of his pictures have great clearness and transparence in the colouring, and a peculiar tenderness in the distances; they are truly fine in the skies, have an uncommon freedom in the clouds, and an agreeable harmony through the whole. But, as he was often obliged to paint for low prices, there is a great disproportion in his works. The narrowness of his circumstances depressed his talent, and rendered him inattentive to fame, being solely anxious to provide for his family. Had he been so happy as to receive a proper degree of encouragement, it is not improbable that he might have approached near to those of the first rank in his profession. The figures in his landscapes were frequently inserted by the younger Adrian Coloni, his brother-in-law. He began to engrave a set of prints, after views from his own designs, but the gout put an end to his life in 170-1, in the forty- ninth year of his age. Lord Orford, who has a portrait of him, thinks he was not much encouraged in England, except by Granville earl of Bath, for whom he drew several views and ruins in the West of England.

, protestant minister of Leyden, and professor in the Walloon college of that city, a man of great abilities, and uncommonly versed in the oriental languages, was born April 7, 1590, at Flushing, where his father Daniel de Dieu was minister. Daniel was a man of great merit, and a native of Brussels, where he had been a minister twenty: two years. He removed from thence in 1585, to serve the church at Flushing, after the duke of Parma had taken Brussels. He understood Greek and the oriental languages, and could preach with the applause of his auditors in German, Italian, French, and English. The churches of the Netherlands sent him, in 1588, over to queen Elizabeth, to inform her of the designs of the duke of Parma, who secretly made her proposals of peace, while the king of Spain was equipping a formidable fleet against England. Lewis, his son, studied under Daniel Colonius, his uncle by his mother’s side, who was professor at Leyden in the Walloon college. He was two years minister of the French church at Flushing; and might have been court-minister at the Hague, if his natural aversion to the manners of a court had not restrained him from accepting that place. There are some circumstances relating to that affair which deserve to be remembered. Prince Maurice, being in Zealand, heard Lewis de Dieu preach, who was yet but a student; and some time after sent for him to court. The young man modestly excused himself, declaring, that he designed to satisfy his conscience in the exercise of his ministry, and to censure freely what he should find deserved censure; a liberty, he said, which courts did not care to allow. Besides, he thought the post which was offered him more proper for a man in years than a student. The prince, conscious that he was in the right, commended his modesty and prudence. He was called to Leyden in 1619 to teach, with his uncle Colonius, in the Walloon college; and he discharged the duty of that employment with great diligence till his death, which happened in 1642. He refused the post, which was offered him, of divinity-professor in the new university of Utrecht; but, if he had lived long enough, he would have been advanced to the same post in that of Leyden. He married the daughter of a counsellor of Flushing, by whom he had eleven children.

, an English gentleman, memorable for the share he had in the powder-plot, and his suffering on that account, was descended from an ancient family, and born some time in 1581. His father, Everard Digby, of Drystoke in Rutlandshire, esq. a person of great worth and learning, was educated in St. John’s college, Cambridge, where he took the degree of M. A. and published several treatises, some on learned, others on curious subjects: as, 1. “Theoria analytica viam ad mouarchiam scientiarum demonstrans,” 1579, 4to. 2. “De duplici methodo libri duo, Rami methodum refutantes,” 1580, 8vo. 3. “De arte natandi, libri duo,” 1587. 4. “A dissuasive from taking away the goods and livings of the church,” 4to. His son, the subject of this article, was educated with great care, but unfortunately under the tuition of some popish priests, who gave him those impressions which his father, if he had lived, might probably have prevented; but he died when his son was only eleven years of age. He was introduced very early to the court of queen Elizabeth, where he was much noticed, and received several marks of her majesty’s favour. On the accession of king James, he went likewise to pay his duty, as others of his religion did; was very graciously received; and had the honour of knighthood conferred upon him, being looked on as a man of a fair fortune, pregnant abilities, and a court-like behaviour. He married Mary, daughter and sole heiress of William Mulsho, esq. of Gothurst, in Buckinghamshire, with whom he had a great fortune, which, with his own estate, was settled upon the children of that marriage. One would have imagined that, considering his mild temper and happy situation in the world, this gentleman might have spent his days in honour and peace, without running the smallest hazard of meeting that disgraceful death, which has introduced his name into all our histories: but it happened far otherwise. He was drawn in by the artifices and persuasions of sir Thomas Tresham, a zealous papist, and probably also by those of the notorious Catesby, with whom he was intimate, to be privy to the gunpowder-plot; and though he was not a principal actor in this dreadful affair, or indeed an actor at all, yet he offered 1500l. towards defraying the expences of it; entertained Guy Fawkes, who was to have executed it, in his house; and was taken in open rebellion with other papists after the plot was detected and miscarried. The means by which sir Everard was persuaded to engage in this affair, according to his own account, were these: first, he was told that king James had broke his promises to the catholics; secondly, that severer laws against popery would be made in the next parliament, that husbands would be made obnoxious for their wives’ otte/iees and that it would be made a praemunire only to be a catholic; but the main point was, thirdly, that the restoring of the catholic religion was the duty of every member and that, in consideration of this, he was not to regard any favonjr* received from the crown, the tranquillity of his country, or the hazards that might be run in respect to his life, his family, or his fortune. Upon his commitment to the Tower, he persisted steadily in maintaining his own innocence as to the powder-plot, and refused to discover any who were concerned in it; but when he was brought to his trial at Westminster, Jan. 27, 1606, and indicted for being acquainted with and concealing the powder-treason, taking the double oath of secrecy and constancy, and acting openly with other traitors in rebellion, he pleaded guilty. After this, he endeavoured to extenuate his offence, by explaining the motives before mentioned; and then requested that, as he had been alone in the crime, he might alone bear the punishment, without extending it to his family; and that his debts might be paid, and himself beheaded. When sentence of death was passed, he seemed to be very much affected: for, making a low bow to those on the bench, he said, “If I could hear any of your lordships say you forgave me, I should go the more cheerfully to the gallows.” To this all the lords answered, “God forgive you, and we do.” He was, with other conspirators, upon the 30th of the same month, hanged, drawn, and quartered at the west end of St. Paul’s church in London, where he asked forgiveness of God, the king, the queen, the prince, and all the parliament; and protested, that if he had known this act at first to have been so foul a treason, he would not have concealed it to have gained a world, requiring the people to witness, that he died penitent and sorrowful for it. Wood mentions a most extraordinary circumstance at his death, as a thing generally Itnown, or rather generally reported; namely, that when the executioner plucked out his heart, and according to form held it up, saying, “Here is the heart of a traitor,” sir Everard made answer, “Thou lyest;” a story which will scarcely now obtain belief; yet it is told by Bacon in his “Historia vitae et mortis,” although he does not mention sir Everard’s name.

Sir Everard left at his death two young sons, afterward* sir Kenelm and sir John Digby, and expressed his affection towards them by a well-written and pathetic paper, which he desired might be communicated to them at a fit time, *i> the last advice of their father. While he was in the Tower, he wrote, in juice of lemon, or otherwise, upon slips of paper, as opportunity offered; and got these conveyed to his lady, by such as had permission to see him. These notes, or advertisements, were preserved by the family as precious relics till, in 1675, they were found at the house of Charles Cornwallis, esq. executor to sir Kenelm Digby, by sir Rice Rudd, bart. and William Wogan of Gray’s-inn, esq. They were afterwards annexed to the proceedings against the traitors, and other pieces relating to the popish plot, printed by the orders of secretary Coventry, dated Dec. 12, 1678. In the first of these papers there is the following paragraph “Now for my intention, let me tell you, that if I had thought there had been the least sin in the plot, I would not have been of it for all the world; and no other cause drew me to hazard my fortune and life, but zeal to God’s religion.” Such was the subjugation of sir Everard Digby' s understanding and feelings to his religious principles, and the interest of the church to which he was devoted, that he had no conception of there being the least sin in his engaging in a conspiracy of the most execrable nature, and which involved in it an astonishing complication of murder. It appears, too, that he was surprised and grieved to the last degree, that the plot should be condemned by any catholic. Nor was he singular in these sentiments. The other persons who were concerned in the conspiracy gloried in the design, and they were most of them men of family, estate, and character. Mr. Hume’s observations on the subject are worthy of being recited: “Neither,” says he, “had the desperate fortune of the conspirators urged them to this enterprize, nor had the former profligacy of their lives prepared them for so great a crime. Before that audacious attempt, their conduct seems, in general, liable to no reproach. Catesby’s character had entitled him to such regard, that Rookwood and Digby were seduced by their implicit trust in his judgment; and they declared, that, from the motive alone of friendship to him, they were ready, on any occasion, to have sacrificed their lives. Digby himself was as highly esteemed and beloved as any man in England; and he had been particularly honoured with the good opinion of queen Elizabeth. It was bigoted zeal alone, the most absurd of prejudices masqued with reason, the most criminal of passions covered with the appearance of duty, which seduced them into measures that were fatal to themselves, and had so nearly proved fatal to their country.”

, who once enjoyed the reputation of a philosopher, the eldest son of sir Everard Digby, was born at Gothurst in Buckinghamshire, June 11, 1603. At the time of his father’s death, he was with his mother at Gothurst, being then in the third year of his age: but he seems to have been taken early out of her hands, since it is certain that he renounced the errors of popery very young, and was carefully bred up in the protestant religion, under the direction, as it is supposed, of archbishop Laud, then dean of Gloucester. Some have said, that king James restored his estate to him in his infancy; but this is an error; for it was decided by law that the king had no right to it. About 1618 he was admitted a gentleman-commoner of Gloucester-hall, now Worcester college, in Oxford; where he soon discovered such strength of natural abilities, and such a spirit of penetration, that his tutor, who was a man of parts and learning, used to compare him, probably for the universality of his genius, to the celebrated Picus de Mirandula. After having continued at Oxford between two and three years, and having raised the highest expectations of future eminence, he made the tour of France, Spain, and Italy, and returned to England in 1623; in which year he was knighted by the king, to whom he was presented at the lord Montague’s house at Hinchinbroke, October 23. Soon after, he rendered himself remarkable by the application of a secret he met with in his travels, which afterwards made so much noise in the world under the title of the “Sympathetic Powder,” by which wounds were to be cured, although the patient was out of sight, a piece of quackery scarcely credible, yet it was practised by sir Kenelm, and his patient Howell, the letter-writer, and believed by many at that time. The virtues of this powder, as himself assures us, were thoroughly inquired into by king James, his son the prince of Wales, the duke of Buckingham, with other persons of the highest distinction, and all registered among the observations of the great chancellor Bacon, to be added by way of appendix to his lordship’s Natural History; but this is not strictly true; for lord Bacon never published that Appendix, although he does give a story nearly as absurd.

After the death of James, he made as great a figure in the new court as he had done in the old; and was appointed a gentleman of the bed-chamber, a commissioner of the navy, and a governor of the Trinity-house. Some disputes having happened in the Mediterranean with the Venetians, he went as adoiiral thither with a small fleet in the summer of 1628; and gained great honour by his bravery and conduct at Algiers, in rescuing many English slaves, and attacking the Venetian fleet in the bay of Scanderoon. In 1632 he had an excellent library of Mss. as well as printed books left him by Ins tutor at Oxford; but, considering how much the Mss. were valued in that university, and how serviceable they might be to the students there, he generously bestowed them the very next year upon the Bodleian library. He continued to this time a member of the church of England; but, going some time afterwards into France, he began to have religious scruples, t-nd at length, in 1636, reconciled himself to the church of Rome. He wrote upon this occasion to Laud an apology for his conduct; and the archbishop returned him an answer, full of tenderness and good advice, but, as it seems, with very little hopes of regaining him. In his letter to the archbishop, he took great pains to convince him, that he had done nothing in this affair precipitately, or without due consideration; and he was desirous that the public should entertain the same opinion of him. As nothing also has been more common, than for persons who have changed their system of religion, to vindicate their conduct by setting forth their motives; so with this view he published at Paris, in 1638, a piece, entitled “A Conference with a lady about the choice of Religion.” It was reprinted at London in 1654, and is written in a polite, easy, and concise style. Some controversial letters of his were published at London in 1651.

After a long stay in France, where he was highly caressed, he came over to England; and in 1639 was, with sir Walter Montague, employed by the queen to engage the papists to a liberal contribution to the king, which they effected; on which account some styled the forces then raised for his majesty, the popish army. Jan. 1640, the house of commons sent for sir Kenelm in order to know how far, and upon what grounds, he had acted in. this matter; which he opened to them very clearly, without having the least recourse to subterfuges or evasions. Upon the breaking out of the civil war, being at London, he was by the parliament committed prisoner to Winchesterhouse; but at length, in 1643, set at liberty, her majesty the queen dowager of France having condescended to write a letter, with her own hand, in his favour. His liberty was granted upon certain terms; and a very respectful letter written in answer to that of the queen. Hearne has preserved a copy of the letter, directed to the queen regent of France, in the language of that country; of which the following is a translation: “Madam, the two houses of parliament having been informed by the sieur de Gressy, of the desire your majesty has that we should set at liberty sir Kenelm Digby; we are commanded to make known to your majesty, that although the religion, the past behaviour, and the abilities of this gentleman, might give some umbrage of his practising to the prejudice of the constitutions of this realm; nevertheless, having so great a regard to the recommendation of your majesty, they have ordered him to be discharged, and have authorized us farther to assure your majesty, of their being always ready to testify to you their respects upon every occasion, as well as to advance whatever may regard the good correspondence between the two states. We remain your majesty’s most humble servants, &c.” In regard to the terms upon which this gentleman was set at liberty, they will sufficiently appear from the following paper, entirely written, as well as subscribed by his own hand: “Whereas, upon the mediation of her majesty the queen of France, it hath pleased both houses of parliament to permit me to go into that kingdom; in humble acknowledgement of their favour therein, and to preserve and confirm a good opinion of my zeal and honest intentions to the honour and service of my country, I do here, upon the faith of a Christian, and the word of a gentleman, protest and promise, that I will neither directly nor indirectly negociate, promote, consent unto or conceal, any practice or design prejudicial to the honour or safety of the parliament. And, in witness of my reality herein, I have hereunto subscribed my name, this 3d day of August, 1643, Kenelm Digby.” Hovfever, before he quitted the kingdom, he was summoned by a committee of the house of commons, in order to give an account of any transactions he might be privy to between archbishop Laud and the court of Rome; and particularly as to an offer supposed to be made to that prelate from thence of a cardinal’s hat. Sir Kenelm assured the committee that he knew nothing of any such transactions; and that, in his judgment, the archbishop was what he seemed to be, a very sincere and learned protestant. During his confinement at Winchester-house, he was the author of two pieces at the least, which were afterwards made public; namely, 1. “Observations upon Dr. Browne’s Religio Medici,” 1643. 2. “Observations on the 22d stanza in the 9th canto of the 2d book of Spenser’s Fairy Queen,” 1644, containing, says his biographer, “a very deep philosophical commentary upon these most mysterious verses.” His appearance in France was highly agreeable to many of the learned in that kingdom, who had a great opinion of his abilities, and were charmed with the spirit and freedom, of his conversation. It was probably about this time that, having read the writings of Descartes, he resolved to go to Holland on purpose to see him, and found him in his retirement at Egmond. There, after conversing with him. upon philosophical subjects some time, without making himself known, Descartes, who had read some of his works, told him, that “he did not doubt but he was the famous sir Kenelm Digby!” “And if you, sir,” replied the knight, “were not the illustrious M. Descartes, I should not have come here on purpose to see you.” Desmaizeaux, who has preserved this anecdote in his Life of St. Evremond, tells us also of a conversation which then followed between these great men, about lengthening out life to the period of the patriarchs, which we have already noticed in our account of Descartes. He is also said to have had many conferences afterwards with Descartes at Paris, where he spent the best part of the ensuing winter, and employed himself in digesting those philosophical treatises which he had been long meditating; and which he published in his own language, but with a licence or privilege from the French king the year following. Their titles are, J. “A Treatise of the nature of Bodies.” 2. “A Treatise declaring the operations and nature of Man’s Soul, out of which the immortality of reasonable Souls is evinced/' Both printed at Paris in 1644, and often reprinted at London. He published also, 3.” Institutionum peripateticarum libri quinque, curn appendice theologica de origine mundi," Paris, 1651: which piece, joined to the two former, translated into Latin by J. L. together with a preface in the same language by Thomas Albius, \hat is, Thomas White, was printed at London in 4to, 1C69.

After the king’s affairs were totally ruined, sir Kenelm found himself under a necessity of returning into England in order to compound for his estate. The parliament, however, did not judge it proper that he should remain here; and therefore not only ordered him to withdraw, but voted, that if he should afterwards at any time return, without leave of the house first obtained, he should lose both life and estate. Upon this he went again to France, where he was very kindly received by Henrietta Maria, dowager queen of England, to whom he had been for some time chancellor. He was sent by her not long after into Italy, and at first well received by Innocent X. but Wood says, behaved to the pope so haughtily, that he quickly lost his good opinion; and adds farther, that there was a suspicion of his being no faithful steward of the contributions raised in that part of the world for the assistance of the distressed catholics in England. After Cromwell had assumed the supreme power, sir Kenelm, who had then nothing to fear from the parliament, ventured to return home, and continued here a great part of 1655; when it has generally been supposed that he was embarked in the great design of reconciling the papists to the protector.

After some stay at Paris, he spent the summer of 1656 at Toulouse, where he conversed with several learned and ingenious men, to whom he communicated, not only mathematical, physical, and philosophical discoveries of his own, but also any matters of this nature he received from. his friends in different parts of Europe. Among these was a relation he had obtained of a city in Barbary under the king of Tripoli, which was said to be turned into stone in a very few hours by a petrifying vapour out of the earth; that is, men, beasts, trees, houses, utensils, and the like, remaining all in the same posture as when alive. He had this account from Fitton, an Englishman residing in Flo rence as library-keeper to the grand duke of Tuscany; and Fitton from the grand duke, who a little before had written to the pasha of Tripoli to know the truth. Sir Keuelm sent it to a friend in England; and it was at length inserted in the “Mercurius Politicus.” This drew a very severe censure upon our author from the famous Henry Stubbes, who called him, on that account, “The Pliny of his age for lying.” It has, however, been offered, in his vindication, that accounts have been given of such a city by modern writers; and that these accounts are in some measure confirmed by a paper delivered to Richard Waller, esq. F. R. S. by Mr. Baker, who was the English consul at Tripoli, Nov. 12, 1713. This paper is to be found in the “Philosophical Observations and Experiments of Dr. Robert Hooke,” published by Derham in 1726, 8vo; and it begins thus: “About forty days journey S. E. from Tripoli, and about seven days from the nearest sea-coast, there is a place called Ougila, in which there are found the bodies of men, women, and children, beasts and plants, all petrified of hard stone, like marble.” And we are afterwards told, in the course of the relation, that “the figure of a man petrified was conveyed to Leghorn, and from thence to England; and that it was carried to secretary Thurloe.”

In 1657 we find him at Montpelier; whither he went, partly for the sake of his health, which began to be impaired by severe fits of the stone, and partly for the sake of enjoying the learned society of several ingenious persons, who had formed themselves into a kind of academy there. To- these he read, in French, his “Discourse of the Cure of Wounds by the Powder of Sympathy,” which, was translated into English, and printed at London; and afterwards into Latin, and reprinted in 1669, with “The Treatise of Bodies, &c.” As to the philosophical arguments in this work, and the manner in which the author accounts for the strange operations of this remedy, however highly admired in those days, they will not now be thought very convincing. He spent the year 1658, and part of 1659, in the Lower Germany; and then returned to Paris, where we find him in 16CO. He returned the year following to England, and was very well received at court; although the ministers were far from being ignorant of the irregularity of his conduct, and the attention he paid to Cromwell while the king was in exile. It does not appear, however, that any other favour was shewn him than seemed to be due to a man of letters. In the first settlement of the royal society we find him appointed one of the council, by the title of sir Kenelm Digby, knight. Chancellor to our dear mother queen Mary. As long as his health permitted, he attended the meetings of this society; and assisted in the improvements that were then made in natural knowledge. One of his discourses, “Concerning the Vegetation of Plants,” was printed in 1661; and it is the only genuine work of our author of which we have not spoken. For though the reader may find in Wood, and other authors, several pieces attributed to him, yet these were published after his decease by one Hartman, who was his operator, and who put his name in the titlepage, with a view of recommending compositions very unworthy of him to the public. It may be proper to observe in this place, that he translated from the Latin of Albertus Magnus, a piece entitled “A treatise of adhering to God,” which was printed at London in 1654; and that he had formed a design of collecting and publishing the works of Roo-er Bacon.

He spent the remainder of his days at his house in Covent Garden, where he was much visited by the lovers of philosophical and mathematical learning, and according to a custom which then prevailed much in France, he had a kind of academy, or literary assembly, in his own dwelling. In 1665 his old distemper the stone increased upon him much, and brought him very low; which made him desirous, as it is said, of going to France. This, however, he did not live to accomplish, but died on his birth-day, June 11th, that year; and was interred in a vault built at his own charge in Christ-church within Newgate, London. His library, which was justly esteemed a most valuable collection, had been transported into France at the first breaking out of the troubles, and improved there at a very considerable expense; but, as he was no subject of his most Christian majesty, it became, according to that branch of the prerogative which the French style DroilcTAubain, the property of the crown upon his decease. He left an only son, John Digby, esq. who succeeded to the family estate. He had an elder son, Kenelm Digby, esq. of great abilities and virtues; but this gentleman appearing in arms for Charles I. after that monarch was utterly incapable of making the least resistance, was killed at the battle of St. Neot’s in Huntingdonshire, July 7, 1648.

, earl of Bristol, and father of lord George Digby, was by no means an inconsiderable man, though checked by the circumstances of his times from making so great a figure as his son. He was descended from an ancient family at Coleshill, in Warwickshire, and born in 1580. He was entered a commoner of Magdalen-­college, Oxford, in 1595; and the year following distinguished himself as a poet by a copy of verses made upon the death of sir Henry Union of Wadley, in Berks. Afterwards he travelled into France and Italy, and returned from thence perfectly accomplished; so that soon falling under the notice of king James, he was admitted gentleman of the privy-chamber, and one of his majesty’s carvers, in 1605. February following he received the honour of knighthood; and in April 1611, was sent ambassador into Spain, as he was afterwards again in 1614. April 1616 he was admitted one of the king’s privy-council, and vicechamberlain of his majesty’s household; and in 1618 was advanced to the dignity of a baron, by the title of the lord Digby of Sherbourne, in Dorsetshire. In 1620 he was sent ambassador to the archduke Albert, and the year following to Ferdinand the emperor; as also to the duke of Bavaria. In 1622 he was sent ambassador extraordinary to Spain, concerning the marriage between prince Charles and Maria daughter of Philip III. and the same year was created earl of Bristol. Being censured by the duke of Buckingham, on his return from the Spanish court in 1624, he was for a short time sent to the Tower but after an examination by a committee of lords, we do not find that any thing important resulted from this inquiry. After the accession of Charles I. the tide of resentment ran strong against the earl, who observing that the king was entirely governed by Buckingham, resolved no longer to keep any measures with the court. In consequence of this, the king, by a stretch of prerogative, gave orders that the customary writ for his parliamentary attendance should not; be sent to him, and on May 1, 1626, he was charged with high treason and other offences. Lord Bristol recriminated, by preparing articles of impeachment against the duke; but the king, resolving to protect Buckingham, dissolved the parliament. The earl now sided with the leaders of opposition in the long parliament. But the violences of that assembly soon disgusting him, he left them, and became a zealous adherent to the king and his cause; for which at length he suffered exile, and the loss of his estate. He died at Paris, Jan. 21, 1653.

, eldest son of Thomas Digges, just mentioned, was born in 1583, and entered a gentleman-commoner of University-college, in Oxford, 1598. Having taken the degree of B. A. in 1601, he studied for some time at the inns of court; and then travelled beyond sea, having before received the honour of knighthood. On his return he led a retired life till 1618, when he was sent by James I. ambassador to the tzar, or emperor of Russia. Two years after he was commissioned with sir Maurice Abbot to go to Holland, in order to obtain the restitution of goods taken by the Dutch from some Englishmen in the East Indies. He was a member of the third parliament of James I. which met at Westminster, Jan. 30, 1621 but was so rule compliant with the court measures, as to be ranked among those whom the king called ill-tempered spirits, he was likewise a member of the first parliament of Charles 1. in 1626; and not only joined with those eminent patriots, who were for bringing Villiers duke of Buckingham to an account, but was indeed one of the most active managers in that affair, for which he was committed to the Tower, though soon released. He was again member of the third parliament of Charles I. in 1628, being one of the knights of the shire for Kent; but seemed to be more moderate in his opposition to the court than he was in the two last, and voted for the dispatch of the subsidies, yet opposed all attempts which he conceived to be hostile to the liberties of his country, or the constitution of parliament. Thus, when sir John Finch, speaker of the house of commons, on June 5, 1628, interrupted sir John Elliot in the house, saying, “There is a command laid upon me, that I must command you not to proceed” sir Dudley Digges vented his uneasiness in these words “I am as much grieved as ever. Must we not proceed Let us sit in silence we are miserable we know not what to do.” In April of the same year, he opened the grand conference between the commons and lords, “concerning the liberty of the person of every freeman,” with a speech, in which he made many excellent observations, tending to establish the liberties of the subject. In all his parliamentary proceedings, he appeared of such consequence, that the court thought it worth their while to gain him over; and accordingly they tempted him with the advantageous and honourable office of master of the rolls, of which he had a reversionary grant Nov. 29, 1630, and became possessed of it April 20, 1636, upon the death of sir Julius Csesar. But he did not enjoy it quite three years; for he died March 8, 1639, and his death was reckoned among the public calamities of those times. He was buried at Chilham church, in Kent, in which parish he had a good estate, and built a noble house.

Learning was long hereditary in this family. Sir Dudley had a brother, Leonard, and a son Dudley, who were both learned men and authors. His brother Leonard, born in 1588, was educated in University-college, Oxford, took the degree of B. A. in 1606, removed to London and then travelling beyond sea, studied in foreign universities: i'rcm whence returning a good scholar, and an accomplished person, he was created M. A. in 1626. His commendatory verses to Shakspeare are prefixed to that poet’s works. He also translated from Spanish into English “Gerardo the unfortunate Spaniard, 1622,” 4to, written by Goncalo de Cespades and from Latin into English verse, “Clauclian’s Rape of Proserpine, 1617,” 4to. He died April 7, 1635, being accounted a good poet and orator; and a great master of the English, French, and Spanish languages.

His son Dudley, who was his third son, was born about 1612, and educated at Oxford, where he took the degree of B. A. in 1632; and the year after was elected a fellow of All-souls’ college. He took a master’s degree in 1635; and became a good poet and linguist, and a general scholar. He died October 1, 1643; having distinguished himself only by the two following productions: 1. “An answer to a printed book entitled * Observations upon some of his majesty’s late answers and expresses, 1” Oxon. 1642. 2. “The unlawfulness of subjects taking up arms against their sovereign in what case soever; with answers to all objections,” Lond. 1643, 4to.

, an eminent botanist, who settled in England, was born at Darmstadt, in Germany, in 1681. He was early intended for the study of physic, and had the principal part of his education at the university of Giessen, a city of Upper Hesse. Of all the parts of science connected with the medical profession, he was most attached to the cultivation of botany; by which he soon obtained so much reputation, that early in life he was chosen a member of the Academia Curiosorum Germanise. How well he deserved this honour, was apparent in his papers published in the “Miscellanea Curiosa.” The first of his communications that we are acquainted with, and which could not have been written later than 1715, was a dissertation concerning the plants of America that are naturalized in Europe. The subject is curious, and is still capable of much farther illustration. A diligent inquiry into it would unquestionably prove that a far greater number of plants than is usually imagined, and which are now thought to be indigenous in Europe, were of foreign origin. Besides the most obvious increase of them, owing to their passage from the garden to the dunghill, and thence to the field, they have been augmented in consequence of various other causes, no small number of them having been introduced and dispersed by the importation of grain, the package of merchandise, and the clearing out of ships. The English Flora of this kind, in its present state, cannot perhaps contain fewer than sixty acknowledged species; and a critical examination would probably add greatly to the catalogue. Another paper of Diiienius’s, published in the “Miscellanea Curiosa,” was a critical dissertation on the coffee of the Arabians, and on European coffee, or such as may be prepared from grain or pulse. In this dissertation he gives the result of his own preparations made with pease, beans, and kidneybeans; but says, that from rye is produced what comes the nearest to true coffee. In another paper he relates the experiment which he made concerning some opium which he had prepared himself from the poppy of Europe growth. In the same collection he shews himself as a / logist, in a paper on leeches, and in a description of t species of the Papilio genus. In 1719, Dillenius excited the notice of naturalists by the publication of his Catalogue of plants growing in the neighbourhood of Giesseu. Nothing can more strongly display the early skill and indefatigable industry of Dillenius, than his being able to produce so great a number of plants in so small a time He enumerates not fewer than 980 species of what were then called the more perfect plants; that is, exclusive of the mushroom class, and all the mosses. By the [news] of this performance, the character of Dillenius, as a truly scientific botanist, was fixed; and henceforward he attracted the notice of all the eminent professors and admirers of the science. To this science no one was more ardently devoted at that time in England, than William Sherard, esq. who had been British consul at Smyrna, from which place he had returned to his own country in 1718; and who, soon after, had the honorary degree of LL. D. conferred on him by the university of Oxford. Being particularly enamoured with Dillenius’s discoveries in the cryptogamia class, he entered into a correspondence with him, which ripened into a close friendship. In 1721, Dr. Sherard, in the pursuit of his botanical researches, made the tour of Holland, France, and Italy, much to the advantage of the science; but what in an especial manner rendered his travels of consequence to the study of nature in our own country, was, that on his return he brought Dillenius with him to England. It was in the month of August in the same year that this event took place; and Dillenius had not long resided in England before he undertook a work that was much desired, a new edition of the “Synopsis stirpium Britannicarum” of Ray, which was become scarce. This edition of the “Synopsis” seems to have been the most popular of all his publications.

During the former years of Dillenius in England, his time appears to have been divided between the country residence of Mr, James Sherard, at Eltham, in Kent; the consul’s house in town; and his own lodgings, which in 1728 were in Barking-alley. At the latter end of 1727, Dillenius was so doubtful concerning what might be the state of his future circumstances, that he entertained 4 design of residing in Yorkshire. This scheme did not take effect; and on Aug. 12, 1728, Dr. William Sherard died, and by his will gave 3000l. to provide a salary for a professor of botany at Oxford, on condition that Dillenius should be chosen the first professor; and he bequeathed to the establishment his botanical library, his herbarium, and his pinax. The university of Oxford having waved the right of nomination, in consequence of Dr. Sherard’s benefaction, Dillenius now arrived at that situation which had probably been the chief object of his wishes, the asylum, against future disappointments, and the field of all that gratification which his taste and pursuits prompted him to desire, and qualified him to enjoy. He was placed likewise in the society of the learned, and at the fountain of every information which the stores of both ancient and modern erudition could display to an inquisitive mind. One of the principal employments of Dr. William Sherard was the compilation of a pinax, or collection of all the names which had been given by botanical writers to each plant. After the death of Sherard, our professor zealously fulfilled the will of his benefactor, in the care he took of his collection, which he greatly augmented. But he was not a little chagrined at the want of books, and the means of purchasing them. Another undertaking in which our author was engaged, was the “Hortus Elthamensis.” In this elegant and elaborate work, of which Linnæus says, “Est opus botanicum quo absolutius mundus non vidit,” 417 plants are described and figured with the most circumstantial accuracy. They are all drawn and etched by Dillenius’s own hand, and consist principally of such exotics as were then rare, or had but lately been introduced into England. The sale of this work, which was published in London, 1732, fol. did not by any means correspond with its merit. So limited was the attention at that time paid to botanical objects, that the “Hortus Elthamensis” found but few purchasers. Dillenius cut up a considerable number of copies, as papers to hold his Hortus Siccus; and in despair of selling the remainder, through the recommendation of his friend Gronovius, disposed of them, together with the plates, to a Dutch bookseller, who broke; so that our author lost the whole of the little profit he had expected to derive from the sale. April 3, 1735, he was admitted to the degree of M. D. in the university of Oxford. His former degree of the same kind had probably been taken at Giessen. In the summer of 1736 he had the honour of a visit at Oxford from the celebrated Linnæus, who returned with the highest opinion of his merit and from this period a correspondence was carried on between them. After the publication of the Hortus Elthamensis, Billenius pursued his “History of Mosses” with great application; in the prosecution of which he enjoyed every desirable assistance. There is the utmost reason to believe that Dillenius intended to have undertaken the funguses as well as the mosses; which design he appears to have had in contemplation not long after his settlement in this country. Dillenius is said to have been of a corpulent habit of body; which circumstance, united to his close application to study, might probably contribute to shorten his days. In the last week of March, 1747, he was seized with an apoplexy, and died on the 2d of April, in the sixtieth year of his age. Concerning Dillenius’s domestic character, habits, temper, and dispositions, there is but slender information. The account of his contemporaries was, that he was moderate, temperate, and gentle in all his conduct; that he was known to few who did not seek him and, as might he expected from the bent of his studies, and the close application he gave to them, that his habits were of the recluse kind. From the perusal of some of his letters it may he collected that he was naturally endowed with a placid disposition, improved by a philosophical calmness of mind, which secured him in a considerable degree from the effects of the evils incident to life. In one of these he expresses himself as follows: “For my little time, 1 have met with as man*-* adversities and misfortunes as any body; which, by the help of exercise, amusement, and reading some of the stoic philosophers, I have overcome; and am resolved that nothing shall afflict me more. Many things here, as well as at my home, that have happened to me, would cut down almost any body. But two days ago I had a letter, acquainting me with a very near relation’s death, whom I was obliged to assist with money in his calamities, in order to set him up again in business and now this is all gone, and there is something more for me to pay, which is not a little for me; but it does not at all affect me. I rather thank God that it is not worse. This is only one, and I have had harder strokes than this and there lie still some upon me.” His drawings, dried plants, printed books, and manuscripts, &c. were left by our author to Dr. Seidel, his executor by whom they were sold to Dr. Sibthorpe, his ingenious and learned successor in the botanical professorship. They have been frequently studied by succeeding botanists, as may be found recorded in the works of Lightfoot, Dickson, Turner, Smith, and others; the present amiable professor, Dr. George Williams, being happy at all times to render them useful, and to forward the views of the truly excellent founder.

, an English poet, was born in Ireland about 1633, while the government of that kingdom was under the first earl of Strafford, to whom he was nephew; his father, sir James Dillon, third earl of Roscommon, having married Elizabeth the youngest daughter of sir William Wentworth, of Wentworth-Woodhouse, in the county of York, sister to the earl of Stratford. Hence lord Roscommon was christened Wentworth. He was educated in the protestant religion, his father (who died at Limerick in 1619) having been converted by archbishop Usher from the communion of the church of Rome; and passed the years of his infancy in Ireland. He was brought over to England by his uncle, on his return from the government of Ireland*, and placed at that nobleman’s seat in Yorkshire, under the tuition of Dr. Hall, erroneously* said to have been afterwards bishop of Norwich. The celebrated Hall was at this time a bishop, and far advanced in years. By this Dr. Hall, whoever he was, he was instructed in Latin; and, without learning the common rules of grammar, which he could never remember, attained to write that language with classical elegance and propriety. When the cloud began to gather over England, and the earl of Strafford was singled out for an impeachment, he was, by the advice of Usher, sent to finish his education at Caen in Normandy, where the protestants had then an university, and studied under the direction of the learned Bochart; but at this time he could not have been more than nine years old. After some years he travelled to Rome, where he grew familiar with the most valuable remains of antiquity, applying himself particularly to the knowledge of medals, which he gained to perfection; and he spoke Italian with so much grace and fluency, that he was frequently mistaken there for a native.

Soon after the restoration, he returned to England,* where he was graciously received by Charles II. and made captain of the band of pensioners. In the gaieties of that age, he was tempted to indulge a violent passion for gaming; by which he frequently hazarded his life in duels, and exceeded the bounds of a moderate fortune. A dispute with the lord privy seal, about part of his estate, obliging him to revisit his native country, he resigned his post in the English court; and, soon after his arrival at Dublin, the duke of Ormond appointed him to be captain of the guards. Mrs. Catharine Phillips, in a letter to sir Charles Cotterel, Dublin, Oct. 19, 1662, styles him “a very ingenious person, of excellent natural parts, and certainly the most hopeful young nobleman in Ireland.” However, he still retained the same fatal affection for gaming; and, this engaging him in adventures, he was near being assassinated one night by three ruffians, who attacked him in the dark; but defended himself with so much resolution, that he dispatched one of them, while a gentleman coming up, disarmed another; and the third secured himself by flight. This generous assistant w r as a disbanded officer, of a good family and fair reputation, but whose circumstances were such, that he wanted even cloaths to appear decently at the castle. Lord Roscommon, on this occasion, presenting him to the duke of Ormond, obtained his grace’s leave to resign to him his post of captain of the guards: which for about three years the gentleman enjoyed; and upon his death the duke returned the commission to his generous benefactor.

The pleasures of the English court, and the friendships he had there contracted, were powerful motives for his return to London. Soon after he came, he was made master of the horse to the duchess of York; and married the lady Frances, eldest daughter of the earl of Burlington, and widow of colonel Courtney. He began now to distinguish himself by his poetry; and about this time projected a design, in conjunction with his friend Dryden, for refining and fixing the standard of our language. But this was entirely defeated by the religious commotions that were then increasing daily; at which time the earl took a resolution to pass the remainder of his life at Rome, telling his friends, “it would be best to sit next to the chimney when the chamber smoked,” a sentence of which, Dr. Johnson says, the application seems not very clear. Amidst these reflections, being seized with the gout, he was so impatient either of hindrance or of pain, that he submitted himself to a French empiric, who is said to have repelled the disease into his bowels. At the moment in which he expired he uttered, with an energy of voice that expressed the most fervent devotion, two lines of his own version of “Dies Iræ:”

His poems, which are not numerous, are in the body of English poetry collected by Dr. Johnson. His “Essay on Translated Verse,” and his translation of “Horace’s Art of Poetry,” have great merit. Waller addressed a poem to his lordship upon the latter, when he was 75 years of age. *' In the writings of this nobleman we view,“says Fenton,” the image of a mind naturally serious and solid; richly furnished and adorned with all the ornaments of art and science; and those ornaments unaffectedly disposed in the most regular and elegant order. His imagination might probably have been more fruitful and sprightly, if his judgment had been less severe but that severity (delivered in a masculine, clear, succinct style) contributed to make him so eminent in the didactical manner, that no man, with justice, can affirm he was ever equalled by any of our nation, without confessing at the same time that he is inferior to none. In some other kinds of writing his genius seems to have wanted fire to attain the point of perfection; but who can attain it? He was a man of an amiable composition, as well as a good poet; as Pope, in his ‘Essay on Criticism,’ had testified in the following lines:

“Of Roscommon’s works,” says Dr. Johnson, “the judgment of the public seems to be right. He is elegant, but not great; he never labours after exquisite beavities, and he seldom falls into gross faults. His versification is smooth, but rarely vigorous, and his rhymes are remarkably exact. He improved taste, if he did not enlarge knowledge, and may be numbered among the benefactors to English literature.” Nor ought it to be forgot, that he was the first critic who had the taste and spirit publicly to praise the “Paradise Lost” with a noble encomium on which, and a rational recommendation of blank verse, he concludes his “Essay on Translated Verse,” though this passage was not in the first edition.

Bar.on Dimsdale afterwards opened a banking-house in Cornhill, in partnership with his sons, and the Barnards, which still flourishes under the firm of Barnard, Dimsdale, and Dimsdale. In 1779 he lost his second wife, by whom he had seven children, and afterwards married Elizabeth, daughter of William Dimsdale of Bishops- Stortford, who survived him. In 1780 he was elected representative for the borough of Hertford, and declined all practice, except for the relief of the poor. He went, however, once more to Russia, in 1781, where he inoculated the present emperor and his brother Constantino; and as he passed through Brussels, the late emperor of Germany, Joseph, received him with great condescension. In 1790 he resigned his seat in parliament, and passed some winters at Bath; but at length fixed altogether at Hertford, where he died Dec. 30, 1800. His remains were interred in the Quakers’ burying-ground at Bishops- Stortford. His family were originally quakers.

, an heretic of the thirteenth century, was a disciple of Amauri or Almaric, who imbibed many errors from the study of Aristotle, and fell under the ecclesiastical censure of the second council of Paris. (See Amauri). The writings both of Amauri and Dinanto were condemned to be burned, which sentence was followed by a general prohibition of the use of the physical and metaphysical writings of Aristotle in the schools, by the synod of Paris, and afterwards, under pope Innocent III. by the council of the Laternu. Dinanto expressed the fundamental principle of his master in the following proposition, “God is the primary matter and substance of all things.” He composed a work entitled “Quaternarii,” with several other productions, which were chiefly designed to atfect and gain the multitude, in which he partly succeeded until he was obliged to save himself by flight.

, a celebrated ancient architect of Macedonia, of whom several extraordinary things are related, lived in the 112th olympiad, or 332 B. C. Vitruvius tells us, that, when Alexander the Great had conquered all his enemies, Dinocrates, full of great conceptions, and relying upon them, went from Macedonia to the army, with a view of acquiring his notice and favour. He carried letters recommendatory to the nobles about him, who received him very graciously, and promised to introduce him to the king; but suspecting, from some delays, that they were not serious, he resolved at length to introduce himself; and for this purpose conceived the following project. He anointed his body all over with oil, and crowned his temples with poplar; then he flung a lion’s skin over his left shoulder, and put a club into his right hand. Thus accoutred, he appeared in the court, where the king was administering justice. The eyes of the people being naturally turned upon so striking a spectacle, for, in addition to his singular garb, he was tall, well proportioned, and very handsome; the king asked him, who he was? “I am,” says he, “Dinocrates the Macedonian architect, and bring to your majesty thoughts and designs that are worthy of your greatness: for I have laid out the mount Athos into the form of a man, in whose left hand I have designed the walls of a great city, and all the rivers of the mount to flow into his right, and from thence into the sea.” Alexander seemed amused with this vast project, but very wisely declined putting it in execution. He kept the architect, however, and took him into Egypt, where he employed him in marking out and building the city of Alexandria. Another memorable instance of Dinocrates’s architectonic skill is his restoring and building, in a more august and magnificent manner than before, the celebrated temple of Diana at Ephesus, after Herostratus, for the sake of immortalizing his name, had destroyed it by fire. A third instance, more extraordinary and wonderful than either of the former, is related by Pliny in his Natural History; who tells us, that he had formed a scheme, by building the dome of the temple of Arsinoe at Alexandria of loadstone, to make her image all of iron hang in the middle of it, as if it were in the air. Dinocrates probably deserves great credit as an architect, but such foolish stories as this last must be placed to the account of the credulity of the times in which Pliny wrote, and of which he largely partook.

was an ancient geometrician, whom some authors have erroneously represented as a disciple of Pythagoras, but who, according to Proclus, lived in the time of Plato, about 360 B. C. and was a disciple of the latter in philosophy. He was chiefly distinguished for his knowledge of geometry, and was the brother of Menechmus, who amplified the theory of the conic sections. Dinostrates also is said to have made many geometrical discoveries; but he is particularly distinguished as the inventor of the quadratrix, by which the quadrature of the circle is effected, though isot geometrically, but only mechanically. Montucla, howev-. T, observes that there is some reason for ascribing the original invention of this curve to Hippias of Elaea, an ingemous philosopher and geometer, contemporary with Socrates.

, canon of the chapter of St. Bennet at Paris, and member of the academy of the Arcades at Rome, was born of a reputable family at Amiens, Nov. 1, 1715, and died at Paris April 23, 1786. After exercising the ministerial functions in the place of his nativity, he repaired to the capital to engage in literary pursuits. M. Joly le Fleuri, at that time avocat-génral, gave him his esteem, his confidence, and his patronage. He was first employed on the “Journal Chretien,” under the abbe Joannetj and the zeal with which he attacked certain authors, and especially M. de SaintFoix, involved him in some unpleasant controversy. He had represented this latter as an infidel seeking every occasion for mixing pestilential notions in whatever he wrote. SaintFoix took up the affair with warmth, and brought an action against both him and abbe Joannet, which terminated in a sort of reparation made him by the two journalists, in their periodical publication. After this the abbe Dinouart began to write on his own account, and in October 1760, set up his “Journal Ecclesiastique,” or, Library of ecclesiastical knowledge, which he continued till his death. He established a very extensive correspondence with the provincial clergy, who consulted him on the difficulties of their ministration. This correspondence contributed greatly to the recommendation of his journal, which contained instructions in all matters of church discipline, morality, and ecclesiastical history. The editor indeed made no scruple of drawing almost all his materials from well-known books, without altering a word; he inserted, for example, in his journal, all the ecclesiastical part of Hardion’s Universal History; but it was useful to the inferior provincial clergy, who were deficient in libraries, and not sorry to have their loss in some shape made up by the periodical compilation of abbe Dinouart. Other critics censured him for giving an incoherent assortment of articles; for advertising, for instance, in the same leaf, “Balm of Genevieve,” and “Sermons to be sold” for the use of young orators who would not take the trouble to compose them; imitating in this a quack of our own nation, who used to advertise sermons, marmalade, and rules for carving. Dinouart, however, bears a reputable personal character. He was naturally of a kind disposition and a sensible heart. The great vivacity of his temper, which hurried him sometimes into transient extravagancies, which he was the first to condemn in himself, prompted also his activity to oblige, for which he never let any opportunities escape him. He generally wrote in a loose, negligent, and incorrect manner, both in verse and prose, and even aspired to be thought a French and Latin poet; but still the usefulness of the greater part of his works recommended them. Among them, we find, 1. “Embriologie sacre'e, traduite du Latin de Cangiamila,” 12mo. 2. “Hymnes Latines.” 3. “Manuel des pasteurs,” 3 vols. 12mo. 4. “La llhetorique du predicateur, ou Traite de l'eloquence du corps,” 12mo. 5. A new edition of the “Abrege” chronologique de Phistoire ecclesiastique de Pabbe Macquer,“Paris, 1768, 3 vols. 3vo. 6.” Anecdotes ecclesjastiques," ibid. 1772, 2 vols. 8vo, in which he was assisted by the abbd Jaubert.

Though all that is lost of this historian is much to be regretted, yet that is most so which contains the history of the forty last years; for within this period he was an eyewitness of all that passed, and a principal actor in a great part. Before the reign of Commodus, he could relate nothing but what he had from the testimony of others; after that, every thing fell under his own cognizance; and a man of his quality, who had spent his life in the management of great affairs, and had read men as well as books, must have had many advantages in delineating the history of his own times; and it is even now allowed, that no man has revealed more of those state-secrets, which Tacitus styles arcana imperii, and of which he makes so high a mystery. He is also very exact and full in his descriptions, in describing the order of the comitia, the establishing of magistrates, &c. and, as to what relates to the apotheosis, or consecration of emperors, perhaps he is the only writer who has given us a good account of it, if we except Ilerodian, who yet seemh to have been greatly indebted to him. Besides his descriptions, there are several of his speeches, which have been highly admired; those particularly of Maecenas and Agrippa, upon the question, whether Augustus should resign the empire or no. Yet he has been exceedingly blamed for his partiality, which to some has appeared so great, as almost to invalidate the credit of his whole history; of those parts at least, where he can be supposed to have been the least interested. The instances alleged are his partiality for Ciesar against Pompey, for Antony against Cicero, and his strong prejudices against Seneca. “The obvious cause of the prejudice which Dio had conceived against Cicero,” Dr. Middleton supposes “to have been his envy to a man who for arts and eloquence was thought to eclipse the fame of Greece-; 11 but he adds another reason, not less probable, deducible from Dio’s character and principles, which were wholly opposite to those of Cicero.” For Dio,“as he says,” flourished under the most tyrannical of the emperors, by whom he was advanced to great dignity; and, being the creature of despotic power, thought it a proper compliment to it, to depreciate a name so highly revered for its patriotism, and whose writings tended to revive that ancient zeal and spirit of liberty for which the people of Rome were once so celebrated: for we find him taking all occasions in his history, to prefer an absolute and monarchical government to a free and democratical one, as the most beneficial to the Roman state."

, a very eminent divine, descended of a noble family of Lucca, was born June 6, 1576; but of his early years we have no information. When, however, he was only nineteen years of age, we find him appointed professor of Hebrew at Geneva. In 1619 the church of Geneva sent him to the synod of Dort, with his colleague Theodore Tronchin. Diodati gained so much reputation in this synod, that he was chosen, with five other divines, to prepare the Belgic confession of faith. He was esteemed an excellent divine, and a good preacher. His death happened at Geneva, Oct. 3, 1649, in his seventy-third year, and was considered as a public loss. He has rendered himself noticed by some works which he published, but particularly by his translation of the whole Bible into Italian, the first edition of which he published, with notes, in 1607, at Geneva, and reprinted in 16 n. The New Testament was printed separately at Geneva in 1608, and at Amsterdam and Haerlem in 1665. M. Simon observes, that his method is rather that of a divine and a preacher, than of a critic, by which he means only, that his work is more of a practical than a critical kind. He translated the Bible also into French, but not being so intimate with that language, he is not thought to have succeeded so well as in the Italian. This translation was printed in folio, at Geneva, in 1664. He was also the first who translated into French father Paul’s “History of the Council of Trent,” and many have esteemed this a more faithful translation than de la Houssaye’s, although less elegant in language. He also is said to have translated sir Edwin Sandys’ book on the “State of Religion in the West.” But the work by which he is best known in this country is his Annotations on the Bible, translated into English, of which the third and best edition was published in 1651, fol. He is said to have begun writing these annotations in 1606, at which time it was expected that Venice would have shaken off the popish yoke, a measure to which he was favourable; and he went on improving them in his editions of the Italian and French translations. This work was at one time time very popular in England, and many of the notes of the Bible, called the “Assembly of Divines’ Annotations,” were taken from Diodati literally. Diodati was at onetime in England, as we learn from the life of bishop Bedell, whom he was desirous to become acquainted with, and introduced him to Dr. Morton, bishop of Durham. From Morrice’s “State Letters of the right hon. the earl of Orrery,” we learn that when invited to preach at Venice, he was obliged to equip himself in a trooper’s habit, a scarlet cloak with a sword, and in that garb he mounted the pulpit; but was obliged to escape again to Geneva, from the wrath of a Venetian nobleman, whose mistress, affected by one of Diqdati'a sermons, had refused to continue her connection with her keeper. The celebrated Milton, also, contracted a friendship for Diodati, when on his travels; and some of his Latin elegies are addressed to Charles Diodati, the nepheiv of the divine. This diaries was one of Milton’s most intimate friends, and was the son of Theodore Diodati, who, although originally of Lucca, as well as his brother, married an English lady, and his son in every respect became an Englishman. He was also an excellent scholar, and being educated to his father’s profession, practised physic in Cheshire. He was at St. Paul’s school, with Milton, and afterwards, in 1621, entered of Trinity-college, Oxford. He died in 1638.

, an ancient historian, was born, at Agyrium, in Sicily, and nourished in the times of Julius Caesar and Augustus, in the first century. He informs us that he was no less than thirty years in writing his history, in the capital of the world, viz. Rome; where he collected materials which he could not have procured elsewhere. Nevertheless, he did not fail to travel through the greatest part of the provinces of Europe and Asia, as well as to Egypt, that he might not commit the usual faults of those who had ventured to treat particularly of places which they had never visited. He calls his work, not a history, but an Historical Library; and with some reason; since, when it was intire, it contained, according to the order of time, all which other historians had written separately. He had comprized in forty books the most remarkable events which had happened in the world during the space of 1138 years; without reckoning what was comprehended in his six first books of the more fabulous times, viz. of all which happened before the Trojan war. But of these forty, only fifteen books are now extant. The first five are intire, and give us an account of the fabulous times, explaining the antiquities and transactions of the Egyptians, Assyrians, Persians, Libyans, Grecians, and other nations, before the Trojan war. The five next are wanting. The llth begins at Xerxes’s expedition into Greece; from whence, to the end of the 20th, which brings the history down to the year of the world 3650, the work is intire; but the latter twenty are quite lost. Henry Stephens asserts, from a letter communicated to him by Lazarus Baif, that the Historical Library of Diodorus remains intire in some corner of Sicily upon which, says la Mothe le Vayer, “I confess I would willingly go almost to the end of the world, in hopes to find so great a treasure. And I shall envy posterity this important discovery, if it be to be made when we are no more; when, instead of fifteen books only, which we now enjoy, they shall possess the whole forty.”

The contents of this whole work are thus explained in the preface by Diodorus himself; “Our six first books,” says he, “comprehend all that happened before the war of Troy, together with many fabulous matters here and there interspersed. Of these, the three former relate the antiquities of the barbarians, and the three latter those of the Greeks. The eleven next include all remarkable events in the world, from the destruction of Troy to the death of Alexander the Great. And lastly, the other twentythree extend to the conquest of Julius Caesar over the Gauls, when he made the British ocean the northern bounds of the Roman empire.” Since Diodorus speaks of Julius Caesar, as he does in more places than one, and always according to the pagan custom, with an attribute of some divinity, he cannot be more ancient than he. When Eusebius writes in his Chronicon, that Diodorus lived under this emperor, he seems to limit the life of the former by the reign of the latter; yet Suidas prolongs his days even to Augustus; and Scaliger observes in his “Animadversions upon Eusebius,” that Diodorus must needs have lived to a very great age; and that he was alive at least half the reign of Augustus, since he mentions on the subject of the olympiads, the Roman bissextile year: now this name was not used before the fasti and calendar were corrected; which was done by Augustus, to make the work of his predecessor more perfect. Diodorus has met with a different reception from the learned. Pliny affirms him to have been the first of the Greeks who wrote seriously, and avoided trifles: “primus apud Graccos desiit nugari,” are his words. Bishop Montague, in his preface to his “Apparatus,” gives him the praise of being an excellent author; who, with great fidelity, immense labour, and uncommon ingenuity, has collected an “Historical Library,” in which he has exhibited his own and the studies of other men. This history, without which we should have been ignorant of the antiquities and many other particulars of the little town of Agyrium, or even of Sicily, presents us occasionally with sensible and judicious reflections. Diodorus takes particular care to refer the successes of war and of other enterprises, not to chance or to a blind fortune, with the generality of historians; but to a wise and kind providence, which presides over all events. Yet he exhibits proofs of extraordinary credulity, as in his description of the Isle of Panchaia, with its walks beyond the reach of sight of odoriferous trees; its fountains, which form an infinite number of canals bordered with flowers; its birds, unknown in any other part of the world, which warble their enchanting notes in groves of uninterrupted verdure; its temple of marble, 4000 feet in length, &c. The first Latin edition of Diodorus is that of Milan, 1472, folio. The first of the text was that of Henry Stephens, in Greek, 1559, finely printed: Wesseling’s, Amsterdam, Gr. and Lat. with the remarks of different authors, various lections, and all the fragments of this historian, 1745, 2 vols, folio, was long accounted the best, but is not so correct as was supposed. Poggius translated it into Latin, the abbe Terasson into French, and Booth into English, 1700, fol. Count Caylus has an ingenious essay on this historian in vol. XXVIL of the “Hist. de l'academie des Belles Lettres,” and professor Heyne has a still more learned and elaborate memoir in “The Transactions of the Royal Society of Gottingen,” vol. V. on the sources of information from which Diodorus composed his history. This was afterwards inserted among the valuable prolegomena to Heyne’s edition of Diodorus, 1798, &c. 10 vols. 8vo, which is now reckoned the best.