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, a mathematician and poet, of the thirteenth century, was a gentleman of Provence, and born in the environs of Gap, from which circumstance he was surnamed Gapencois. He resided a long time at Sisteron, where he died. Others writers say, that he was of Tarascon, of the family of Malespine; bnt perhaps he only lived in the latter of these towns. He was equally devoted to polite literature and to the fair sex, and composed several poems in honour of his platonic mistress, the marchioness of Malespine, who was the most accomplished lady of Provence in that age. He wrote also some treatises on mathematical subjects. It is said that he died of grief, and that he delivered his poems to a friend, in order to be presented to his favourite marchioness; but this friend sold them tp Faber d‘Uzes, a lyric poet, who published them as his own. When the fraud was discovered, d’Uzes was seized, and underwent the punishment of whipping for his plagiarism, agreeably to the law established by the emperors against that crime, but which, unfortunately for authors, has been repealed in all countries.

, an Italian count, and a man of learning, was a native of Placentia, where he was born July 3, 1654. After studying philosophy and the classics in the college of St. Francis Xavier at Bologna, he went to Rome, and passed through a course of theology, law, and mathematics. He was so pleased with Rome as to determine to take up his abode there and when the pope offered him the‘ place of nuncio at Brussels, and in Poland, he preferred a life of literary employment. Some time after, however, he accompanied cardinal d’Estrees to Paris, and the marchioness of Montecuculi to St. Germain and afterwards went to Poland, to be present at the election of a successor to king John Sobieski, then deceased. In 1698, duke Francis, of Parma, sent him to Madrid, as his deputy; and in 1710 Sophia Dorothy duchess of Placentia employed him in the same honourable office at Vienna, and at several courts in Germany, England, and Utrecht. On his return, he passed the rest of his life in a retired manner, and died Feb. 23, 1725. When in England he was elected a member of the royal society, with M. Bianchini. His rich cabinet of natural history, and his extensive library, were always open to men of learning, many of whom he assisted in their pursuits with great liberality. We know of none of his writings, except a discourse on the maps in the Atlas Historique, published at Amsterdam in 1719.

, a nonconformist clergyman of Dorsetshire, was born at or near Egremond, in Cumberland, Nov. 1600, and educated at St. Bees. Thence he entered Queen’s college, Oxford, Wood thinks, as a servitor, but left the university without taking a degree, on obtaining a presentation to the living of Oakingriain, in Berkshire; but upon Mr. Bateman’s having got another presentation to the same living, a gentleman who was his contemporary at Oxford, they agreed jointly to perform the duty, and divide the profits, rather than contest the matter at law. Mr. Benn became afterwards chaplain to the marchioness of Northampton, with whom he resided in Somersetshire, leaving Oakingham to Mr. Bateman In 1629, the celebrated Mr. White, usually called the patriarch of Dorchester, invited him to that town, by whose interest he obtained the rectory of All Saints; and, excepting two years ttiat he attended Mr. White at Lambeth, continued here until Bartholomew-day, when he was ejected for nonconformity. Not satisfied with his constant labours in the church, while he held his rectory, he preached gratis, on week-days, to prisoners in the gaol, and the room not being large enough for his auditory, he built a chapel within the prison limits, principally at his own expence. In 1654, he was one of the assistants to the commissioners for ejecting such as were called scandalous, ignorant, and insufficient ministers, and school-masters. After his own ejectment, he continued to preach occasionally, and was sometimes fined and imprisoned. He died March 22, 1680, and was buried in All Saints church-yard. Wood records three particulars of him the first, that he was, as already mentioned, assistant to the commissioners, &c. secondly, that although he lived to be eighty, he never used spectacles, and yet read and wrote much, writing all his sermons as he delivered them; and thirdly, that he prayed in his study seven times a day, and commemorated certain deliverances from dangers which he had experienced on certain days of his life. His only works were an “Answer to Mr. Francis Bamph'eld’s Letter, in vindication of the Christian Sabbath against the Jewish,” Lond. 1672, 8vo; and a volume of sermons, on “Soul prosperity,” 1683, 8vo.

, second wife of king Henry VIII. was born in 1507. She was daughter of sir Thomas Bolen, afterwards earl of Wiltshire and Ormonde, by Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Howard, duke of Norfolk. When she was but seven years of age, she was carried over to France with the king’s sister Mary, who was married to Lewis XII. And though, upon the B'rench king’s death, the queen dowager returned to England, yet Anne Bolen was so highly esteemed at the court of France, that Claude, the wife of Francis I. retained her in her service for some years; and after her death in 1524, the duchess of Alenzon, the king’s sister, kept her in her court during her stay in that kingdom. It is probable, that she returned from thence with her father, from his embassy in 1527; and was soon preferred to the place of maid of honour to the queen. She continued without the least imputation upon her character, till her unfortunate fall gave occasion to some malicious writers to defame her in all the parts of it. Upon her coming to the English court, the lord Percy, eldest son of the earl of Northumberland, being then a domestic of cardinal Wolsey, made his addressee to her, and proceeded so far, as to engage himself to marry her; and her consent shews, that she had then no aspirings to the crown. But the cardinal, upon some private reasons, using threats and other methods, with great difficulty put an end to that nobleman’s design. It was prohably about 1528, that the king began to shew some favour to her, which caused many to believe, that the whole process with regard to his divorce from queen Catherine was moved by the unseen springs of that secret passion. But it is not reasonable to imagine, that the engagement of the king’s affec tion to any other person gave the rise to that affair; for so sagacious a courtier as Wolsey would have infallibly discovered it, and not have projected a marriage with the French king’s sister, as he did not long before, if he had seen his master prepossessed. The supposition is much more reasonable, that his majesty, conceiving himself in a manner discharged of his former marriage, gave a full liberty to his affections, which began to settle upon Mrs. Bolen; who, in September 1532, was created marchioness of Pembroke, in order that she might be raised by degrees to the height for which she was designed; and on the 25th of January following was married to the king, the office being performed by; Rowland Lee, afterwards bishop of Coventry and Lichfield, with great privacy, though in the presence of her uncle the duke of Norfolk, her father, mother, and brother. On the 1st of June, 1533, she was crowned queen of England with such pomp and solemnity, as was answerable to the magnificence of his majesty’s temper; and every one admired her conduct, who had so long managed the spirit of a king so violent, as neither to surfeit him with too much fondness, nor to provoke with too much reserve. Her being so soon with child gave hopes of a numerous issue; and those, who loved the reformation, entertained the greatest hopes from her protection, as they knew she favoured them. On the 13th or 14th of September following, she brought forth a daughter, christened Elizabeth, afterwards the renowned queen of England, Cranmer, archbishop of Canterb ry, being her god-father. But the year 1536 proved fatal to her majesty; and her ruin was in all probability occasioned by those who began to be distinguished by the name of the Romish party. For the king now proceeding both at home and abroad in the point of reformation, they found that the interest which the queen had in him was the grand support of that cause. She had risen, not only in his esteem, but likewise in that of the nation in general; for in the last nine months of her life, she gave above fourteen thousand pounds to the poor, and was engaged in several noble and public designs. But these virtues could not secure her against the artifices of a bigoted party, which received an additional force from several other circumstances, that contributed to her destruction. Soon after queen Catharine’s death in Jan. 1535-6, she was brought to bed of a dead son, which was believed to have made a bad impression on the king’s mind; and as he had concluded from the death of his sons by his former queen, that the marriage was displeasing to God, so he might upon this misfortune begin to have the same opinion of his marriage with queen Anne. It was also considered by some courtiers, that now queen Catharine was dead, his majesty might marry another wife, and be fully reconciled with the pope and the emperor, and the issue by any other marriage would never be questioned; whereas, while queen Anne lived, the ground of the controversy still remained, and her marriage being accounted null from the beginning, would never be allowed by the court of Rome, or any of that party. With these reasons of state the king’s own passions too much concurred; for he now entertained a secret love for the lady Jane Seymour, who had all the charms of youth and beauty, and an humour tempered between the gravity of queen Catharine, and the gaiety of queen Anne. Her majesty therefore perceiving the alienation of the king’s heart, used all possible arts to recover that affection, the decay of which she was sensible of; but the success was quite contrary to what she designed. For he saw her no more with those eyes which she had formerly captivated; but gave way to jealousy, and ascribed her caresses to some other criminal passion, of which he began to suspect her. Her chearful temper indeed was not always limited within the bounds of exact decency and discretion; and her brother the lord Rochford’s wife, a woman of no virtue, being jealous of her husband and her, possessed the king with her own apprehensions. Henry Norris, groom of the stole, William Brereton, and sir Francis W'eston, who were of the king’s privy chamber, and Mark Smeton, a musician, were by the queen’s enemies thought too officious about her; and something was pretended to have been sworn by the lady Wingfield at her death, which determined the king; but the particulars are not known. It is reported likewise, that when the king held a tournament at Greenwich on the 1st of May, 1536, he was displeased at the queen for letting her handkerchief fall to one, who was supposed a favourite, and who wiped his face with it. Whatever the case was, the king returned suddenly from Greenwich to Whitehall, and immediately ordered her to be confined to her chamber, and her brother, with the four persons abovementioned, to be committed to the Tower, and herself to be sent after them the day following. On the river some privy counsellors came to examine her, but she made deep protestations of her innocence; and as she landed at the Tower, she fell down on her knees, and prayed Heaven so to assist her, as she was free from the crimes laid to her charge.“The confusion she was in soon raised a storm of vapours within her; sometimes she laughejj, and at other times wept excessively. She was also devout and light by turns; one while she stood upon her vindication, and at other times confessed some indiscretions, which upon recollection she denied. All about her took advantage from any word, that fell from her, and sent it immediately to court. The duke of Norfolk and others, who came to examine her, the better to make discoveries, told her, that Morris and Smeton had accused her; which, though false, had this effect on her, that it induced her to own some slight acts of indiscretion, which, though no ways essential, totally alienated the king from her. Yet whether even these small acknowledgments were real truths, or the effects of imagination and hysterical emotions, is very uncertain. On the 12th of May, Morris, Brereton, Weston, and Smeton, were tried in Westminster-hall. Smeton is said by Dr. Burnet to have confessed the fact; but the lord Herbert’s silence in this matter imports him to have been of a different opinion; to which may be added, that Cromwell’s letter to the king takes notice, that only some circumstances were confessed by Smeton. However, they were all four found guilty, and executed on the 17th of May. On the 15th of which month, the queen, and her brother the lord Rochford, were tried by their peers in the Tower, and condemned to die. Yet all this did not satisfy the enraged king, who resolved likewise to illegitimate his daughter Elizabeth; and, in order to that, to annul his marriage with the queen, upon pretence of a precontract between her and the lord Percy, now earl of Northumberland, who solemnly denied it; though the queen was prevailed upon to acknowledge, that there were some just and lawful impediments against her marriage with the king; and upon this a sentence of divorce was pronounced by the archbishop, and afterwards confirmed in the convocation and parliament. On the 19th of May, she was brought to a scaffold within the Tower, where she was prevailed upon, out of regard to her daughter, to make no reflections on the hardships she had sustained, nor to say any thing touching the grounds on which sentence passed against her; only she desired, that” all would judge the best." Her head being severed from her body, they were both put into an ordinary chest, and buried in the chapel in the Tower.

, duchess of Newcastle, and second wife of the preceding, was born at St. John’s, near Colchester in Essex, about the latter end of the reign of James I. Her father, of whom she was the youngest daughter, was sir Charles Lucas, a gentleman of a very ancient and honourable family, and who was himself a man of great spirit and fortune. Dying young, he left the care of his children to his widow, a lady of exquisite beauty and admirable accomplishments, who took upon herself the education of her daughters, and instructed them in needlework, dancing, music, the French tongue, and other things that were proper for women of fashion. As, however, she had from her infancy an inclination for literature, and spent much of her time in study and writing, her biographers have lamented that she had not the advantage of an acquaintance with the learned languages, which might have improved her judgment, and have been of infinite service to her in the numerous productions of her pen. In 1643 she obtained permission from her mother to go to Oxford, where the court then resided, and where she could not fail of meeting with a favourable reception, on account of the distinguished loyalty of her family, as well as of her own accomplishments. Accordingly, she was appointed one of the maids of honour to Henrietta Maria, the royal consort of Charles I.; and in that capacity accompanied her majesty to France, when the queen was obliged by the civil war to quit England. At Paris Miss Lucas first saw the marquis of Newcastle, then a widower, who admiring her person, disposition, and ingenuity, was married to her at that place, in 1645. The marquis had heard of the lady’s character before he met with her in France; for having been a friend and patron of her gallant brother lord Lucas, he took occasion one day to ask his lordship in what respect he could promote his interest. To this his lordship replied, that he was not solicitous about his own affairs, as being prepared to suffer either exile or death in the royal cause; but that he was chiefly concerned for his sister, on whom he could bestow no fortune, and whose beauty exposed her to danger. At the same time, he represented her other amiable qualities in so striking a light, as raised the marquis’s curiosity to see her. After their marriage, the marquis and marchioness of Newcastle went from Paris to Rotterdam, where they resided six months, and from that to Antwerp, which they fixed upon as the place of their residence during the time of their exile. In this city they enjoyed as quiet and pleasant a retirement as their ruined fortunes would permit. Though the marquis had much respect paid him by all men, as well foreigners as those of his own country, he principally confined himself to the society of his lady, who, both by her writings and her conversation, proved a most agreeable companion to him during his melancholy recess. The exigency of their affairs obliged the marchioness once to come over to England. Her view was to obtain some of the marquis’s rents, in order to supply their pressing necessities, and pay the debts they had contracted; but she could not procure a grant from the rulers of those times, to receive one penny out of her noble husband’s vast inheritance: and had it not been for the seasonable generosity of sir Charles Cavendish, she and her lord must have been exposed to extreme poverty. At length, however, having obtained a considerable sum from her own and the marquis’s relations, she returned to Antwerp, where she continued with him till the restoration, and employed herself in writing several of her works.

Before he quitted Turin, Mr. M'Kenzie’s interest with the duke of Northumberland, then lord lieutenant of Ireland, procured him the promise of a deanery in that kingdom, which he declined accepting; but soon after received from the same noble patron a presentation to the rectory of Elsdon in Northumberland, then worth 800l. a year; which induced him, in 1766, to return to England, where he received a present of 1000l. from the king, and was highly delighted with the reception he met with at Northumberland-house. In 1768 he performed an extensive tour through the continent with lord Algernon Percy, the duke of Northumberland’s son. In the course of this tour, some conversation at Genoa with the marchioness of Babbi, gave rise to a work which Mr. Dutens afterwards published at Rome under the title of “The Tocsin,” and afterwards at Paris, under the title of “Appel au bons sens.” After this tour was finished, he resided for some time at Paris, where he published several works, and lived in a perpetual round of splendid amusements. In 1776 he returned to London, and lived much with the Northumberland family, and with his early patron Mr. M'Kenzie, until lord Montstuart was appointed envoy-extraordinary to the court of Turin, whom he accompanied as his friend, but without any official situation, except that when lord Montstuart was called to England upon private business, he again acted for a short time as charge des affaires. After this, according to his memoirs, his time was divided for many years between a residence in London, and occasional tours to the continent, with the political affairs of which he seems always anxious to keep up an intimate acquaintance. At length the death of his first friend and patron placed him in easy if not opulent circumstances, as that gentleman left him executor and residuary legatee with his two nephews, lord Bute and the primate of Ireland. The value of this legacy has been estimated at 15,000l. which enabled Mr. Dutens to pass the remainder of his life in literary retirement and social intercourse, for which he was admirably qualified, not only by an extensive knowledge, but by manners easy and accommodating. In the complimentary strain of a courtier few men exceeded him, although his profuse liberality in this article was sometimes thought to lessen its value. He died at his house in Mount-street, Grosvenor-square, May 23, 1812, in his eighty-third year. Not many days before his death, he called, in a coach, on many persons of eminence with whom he had corresponded, for the sole purpose of returning the letters he had received from them. His publications, not already noticed were, 1 “Explications des quelques Medailles de peuple, de villes, et des rois Grecques et Pheniciennes,” 1773, 4to. 2. The same translated. 3. “Itineraire des Routes les plus frequentées; ou Journal d‘un Voyage aux Villes principales de l’Europe,” often reprinted. 4. “Histoire de ce qui s’est passe” pour establissement d'une Regence en Angleterre. Par M. L. D. Ne D. R. D. L. Ge. Be.“1789, 8vo; in which he adopted the sentiments of Mr. Pitt’s administration on the important question of the regency, which, he says, lost him the favour of a great personage. 5.” Recherches sur le terns le plus recule de l'usage des Voutes chez les Anciens,“1795. He wrote also the French text of the second volume of the Marlborough gems, a task for which he was well qualified, as he was an excellent classical antiquary and medallist. In 1771 he translated” The manner of securing all sorts of brick buildings from fire,“&c. from the French of count d'Espie. His last publication, in 1805, was his own history, in” Memoires d'un Voyageur," &c. of which we have availed ourselves in this sketch but, although this work may often amuse the reader, and add something to the knowledge of human nature, it will not perhaps create an unmixed regard for the character of the writer.

How he spent his time with the bishop of Cambray, with whom he continued some years, we have no account. bishop, however, was, now his patron, and apparently very fond of him; and he promised him a pension to maintain him at Paris. But the pension, as Erasmus himself relates, was never paid him; so that he was obliged to have recourse to taking pupils, though a thing highly disagreeable to him, purely for support. Many noble English became his pupils, and, among the rest, William Blunt, lord Montjoy, who was afterwards his very good friend and patron. Erasmus tells us, that he lived rather than studied, “vixit verius qnam studuit,” at Paris; for, his patron forgetting the promised pension, he had not only no books to carry on his studies, but even wanted the necessary comforts and conveniences of life. He was forced to take up with bad lodgings and bad diet, which brought on him a fit of illness, and changed his constitution so much for the worse, that, from a very strong one, it continued ever after weak and tender. The plague too was in that city, anl had been for many years; so that he was obliged, after a short stay, to leave it, almost without any of that benefit he might naturally have expected, as the university at that time was famous for theology. Leaving Paris, therefore, in the beginning of 1497 he returned to Cambray, where he was received kindly by the bishop. He spent some days at Bergis with his friend James Battus, by whom he was introduced to the knowledge of Anne Borsala, marchioness of Vere. This noble lady proved a great benefactress to him; and he afterwards, in gratitude, wrote her panegyric. This year he went over to England for the first time, to fulfill a promise which he had made to his noble disciple Montjoy. This noble lord, a man of learning, and patron of learned men, was never easy, it is said, while Erasmus was in England, but when he was in his company. Even after he was married, as Knight relates, he left his family, and went to Oxford, purely to proceed in his studies under the direction of Erasmus. He also gave him the liberty of his house in London, when he was absent; but a surly steward, whom Erasmus, in a letter to Colet, calls Cerberus, prevented his using that privilege often. Making but a short stay in London, he went to Oxford; where he studied in St. Mary’s college, which stood nearly opposite New-Inn hall, and of which there are some few remains still visible. Here he became very intimate with all who had any name for literature: with Colet, Grocyn, Linacer, William Latimer, sir Thomas More, and many others. Under the guidance of these he made a considerable progress in his studies; Colet engaging him in the study of divinity, and Grocyn, Linacer, and Latimer teaching him Greek. Greek literature was then reviving at Oxford; although much opposed by a set of the students, who called themselves Trojans, and, like the elder Cato at Rome, opposed it as a dangerous novelty.

He left England the latter end of 1497, and went to Paris; whence, on account of the plague, he immediately passed on to Orleans, where he spent three months. He was very ill, while there, of a fever, which he had had every Lent for five years together; but he tells us, that St. Genevieve interceded for his recovery, and obtained it, though not without the assistance of a good physician. About April 1498 he had finished his “Adagia.” He applied himself all the while intensely to the study of the Greek tongue; and he says that, as soon as he could get any money, he would first buy Greek books, and then clothes: “Statimque ut pecuniam accepero, Graecos primum auctores, delude vestes, emam.” At this time he began to experience some of the vicissitudes of patronage, and both the marchioness of Vere and the bishop of Cambray seem to have relaxed from their liberality. The marchioness, though she entertained him very politely, yet gave him little more than civil words, and squandered her money upon the monks: and the bishop soon after quarrelled with him, upon pretence that he had spoken slightly of his kindnesses.

Mr. Jameson died at Edinburgh in 1644, and was interred in the churchyard of the Grey Friars, but without, any monument. By his will, written witli his own hand in 1641, and breathing a spirit of much piety and benevolence, he provides kindly for his wife and children, and leaves many legacies to his relations and friends. Of his family, his daughter Mary was thrice married: first to Mr. Burnett, of EIrick, in the county of Aberdeen; afterwards to James Gregory, the celebrated mathematician; and lastly to Mr. Eddie, one of the magistrates of Aberdeen. By all these gentlemen she had children, and many of the descendants of the two first have numerous families in the county of Aberdeen. Mary seems to have inherited a portion of her father’s genius. Several specimens of her needle-work remain, particularly Jephtha’s rash vow; Susannah and the Elders, &c. probably from a design of her father’s; these now adorn the East end of St. Nicholas church, Aberdeen. Though Jameson was little known in England, and has not been noticed by any English writer on the arts, except lord Orford, his character, as well as his works, were highly esteemed in his own country. Arthur Johnston, the poet, addressed to him an elegant Latin epigram, on the picture of the marchioness of Huntley, which may be seen in the works of that author, printed at Middleburgh in 1642.

, marchioness of, the celebrated mistress- of Louis XV. was the daughter of a financier, and early distinguished by the beauty of her person, and the elegance of her talents. She was married to a M. d'Etioles when she attracted the notice of the king, and becoming his mistress, was created marchioness of Pompadour in 1745. Her credit was abundant, and she employed it Chiefly in the patronage of talents, in all branches of the polite arts. She collected also a cabinet of books, pictures, and various curiosities. She died in 1764, at the age of forty-four; and, it is said, with much more resignation than could have been expected of a person so little advanced in years, and so situated. Two spurious works hate been attributed to her since her death, the one, a set of “Memoirs,” in two volumes, 8vo the other, a collection of “Letters,” in three volumes, which have at least the merit of painting her character with skill. The memoirs attribute to her, in conformity with the popular ideas, much more influence than she actually possessed.

, lord Buckhurst and earl of Dorset, an eminent statesman and poet, was born at Withyam in Sussex, in 1527. He was the son of sir Richard Sackville, who died in 1566, by Winifred Brydges (afterwards marchioness of Winchester), and grandson of John Sackville, esq. who died in 1557, by Anne Boleyne, sister of sir Thomas Boleyne, earl of Wiltshire and great grandson of Richard Sackviiie, esq. who died in 1524, by Isabel, daughter of John Digges, of Digues 1 s place in Barham, Kent, of a family which for many succeeding generations produced men of learning and genius. He was first of the university of Oxford, and, as it is supposed, of Hart-hall, now Hertford-college; but taking no degree there, he removed to Cambridge, where he commenced master of arts, and afterwards was a student of the Inner Temple. At both universities he became celebrated both as a Latin and English poet, and carried the same taste and talents to the Temple, where he wrote his tragedy of “Gorboduc,” which was exhibited in the great hall by the students of that society, as part of a Christmas entertainment, and afterwards before queen Elizabeth at Whitehall^ Jan. 18, 1561. It was surreptitiously printed in 1563, under the title of “The Tragedy of Gorboduc,” 4to; but a correct edition under the inspection of the authors (for he was assisted by Thomas Norton), appeared in 1571, entitled “The Tragedie of Ferrex and Porrex.” Another edition appeared in 1569, notwithstanding which, for many years it had so feompletely disappeared, that Dryden and Oldham, in the reign of Charles II. do not appear to have seen it, though they pretended to criticise it; and even Wood knew just as little of it, as is plain from his telling us that it was written in old English rhyme. Pope took a fancy to retrieve this play from oblivion, and Spence being employed to set it off with all possible advantage, it was printed pompously in 1736, 8vo, with a preface by the editor. Spence, speaking of his lordship as a poet, declares, that “the dawn of our English poetry was in Chaucer’s time, but that it shone out in him too bright all at once to last long. The succeeding age was dark and overcast. There was indeed some glimmerings of genius again in Henry VIII's time but our poetry had never what could be called a fair settled day-light till towards the end of queen Elizabeth’s reign. It was between these two periods, that lord Buckhurst wrote; after the earl of Surrey, and before Spenser.” Warton’s opinion of this tragedy is not very favourable. He thinks it never was a favourite with our ancestors, and fell into oblivion on account of the nakedness anil uninteresting nature of the plot, the tedious length of the speeches, the want of discrimination of character, and almost a total absence of pathetic or critical situations. Yet he allows that the language of “Gorboduc” has great merit and perspicuity, and that it is entirely free from the tumid phraseology of a subsequent age of play-writing.

, an illustrious English wit, and justly celebrated also for his political knowledge, was descended from a very ancient family, and born Nov. 30, 1667. His grandfather, Mr. Thomas Swift, was vicar of Goodrich in Herefordshire, and married Mrs. Elizabeth Dryden, aunt of Dryden the poet; by whom he had six sons, Godwin, Thomas, Dryden, William, Jonathan, and Adam. Thomas was bred at Oxford, but died young; Godwin was a barrister of Gray’s-inn; and William, Dryden, Jonathan, and Adam, were attornies. Godwin having married a relation of the old marchioness of Ormond, the old duke of Ormond made him attorney-general in the palatinate of Tipperary in Ireland. Ireland was at this time almost without lawyers, the rebellion having converted men of all conditions into soldiers. Godwin, therefore, determined to attempt the acquisition of a fortune in that kingdom, and the same motive induced his four brothers tO'go with him. Jonathan, at the age of about twenty-three, and before he went to Ireland, married Mrs. Abigail Erick, a gentlewoman of Leicestershire; and about two years after left her a widow with one child, a daughter, and pregnant with another, having no means of subsistence but an annuity of 20l. which her husband had purchased for her in England, immediately after his marriage. In this distress she was taken into the family of Godwin, her husband’s eldest brother; and there, about seven months after his death, delivered of a son, whom she called Jonathan, in remembrance of his father, and who was afterwards the celebrated dean of St. Patrick’s.

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

, the greatest literary character which France produced in the last century, was born at Paris, February 20, 1694. His father, Francis Arouet, was “ancien notaire du Chatelet,” and treasurer of the chamber of accounts; his mother, MaryMargaret Daumart. At the birth of this extraordinary man, who lived to the age of eighty-five years and some months, there was little probability of his being ‘reared, and for a considerable time he continued remarkably feeble. In his earliest years he displayed a ready wit and a sprightly imagination: and, as he said of himself, made verses before he was out of his cradle. He was educated under Father Por6, in the college of Louis the Great; and such was his proficiency, that many of his essays are now existing, which, though written when he was between twelve and fourteen, shew no marks of infancy. The famous Ninon de l’Enclos, to whom this ingenious boy was introduced, left him a legacy of 2000 livres to buy him a library. Having been sent to the equity-schools on his quitting college, he was so disgusted with the dryness of the law, that he devoted himself entirely to the Muses. He was admitted into the company of the abb< Chaulieu, the marquis de la Fare, the duke de Sully, the grand prior of Vendo;ne, marshal Villars, and the chevalier du Bouillon; and caught from them that easy taste and delicate humour which distinguished the court of Louis XIV. Voltaire had early imbibed a turn for satire; and, for some philippics against the government, was imprisoned almost a year in the Bastile. He had before this period produced the tragedy of “Oedipus,” which was represented in 1718 with great success; and the duke of Orleans, happening to see it performed, was so delighted, that he obtained his release from prison. The poet waiting on the duke to return thanks: “Be wise,” said the duke, “and I will take care of you.” “I am infinitely obliged,” replied the young man; “but I intreat your royal highness not to trouble yourself any farther about my lodging or board.” His father, whose ardent wish it was that the son should have been an advocate, was present at one of the representations of the new tragedy: he was affected, even to tears, embraced his son amidst the felicitations of the ladies of the court, and never more, from that time, expressed a wish that he should become a lawyer. About 1720, he went to Brussels with Madam de Rupelmonde. The celebrated Rousseau being then in that city, the two poets met, and soon conceived an unconquerable aversion for each other. Voltaire said one day to Rousseau, who was shewing him “An Ode to Posterity,” “This is a letter which will never reach the place of its address.” Another time, Voltaire, having read a satire which Rousseau thought very indifferent, was advised to suppress it, lest it should be imagined that he “had lost his abilities, and preserved only his virulence.” Such mutual reproaches soon inflamed two hearts already sufficiently estranged. Voltaire, on his return to Paris, produced, in 1722, his tragedy of “Mariamne,” without success. His “Artemira” had experienced the same fate in 1720, though it had charmed the discerning by the excellence of the poetry. These mortifications, joined to those which were occasioned by his principles of imprudence, his sentiments on religion, and the warmth of his temper, induced him to visit England, where he printed his “Henriade.” King George I. and particularly the princess of Wales (afterwards queen Caroline) distinguished him by their protection, and obtained for him a great number of subscriptions. This laid the foundation of a fortune, which was afterwards considerably increased by the sale of his writings, by the munificence of princes, by commerce, by a habit of regularity, and by an ceconomy bordering on avarice, which he did not shake off till near the end of his life. On his return to France, in 1728, he placed the money he carried with him from England into a lottery established by M. Desforts, comptroller-general of the finances; he engaged deeply, and was successful. The speculations of finance, however, did not check his attachment to the belles lettres, his darling passion. In 1730, he published “Brutus,” the most nervous of all his tragedies, which was more applauded by the judges of good writing than by the spectators. The first wits of the time, Fontenelle, La Motte, and others, advised him to give up the drama, as not being his proper forte. He answered them by publishing “Zara,” the most affecting, perhaps, of all his tragedies. His “Lettres Philosophiques,” abounding in bold expressions and indecent witticisms against religion, having been burnt by a decree of the parliament of Paris, and a warrant being issued for apprehending the author in 1733, Voltaire very prudently withdrew; and was sheltered by the marchioness du Chatelet, in her castle of Cirey, on the borders of Champagne and Lorraine, who entered with him on the study of the “System” of Leibnitz, and the “Principia” of Newton. A gallery was built, in which Voltaire formed a good collection of natural history, and made a great many experiments on light and electricity. He laboured in the mean time on his “Elements of the Newtonian Philosophy,” then totally unknown in France, and which the numerous admirers of Des Cartes were very little desirous should be known. In the midst of these philosophic pursuits, he produced the tragedy of “Alzira.” He was now in the meridian of his age and genius, as was evident from the tragedy of “Mahomet,” first acted in, 174-1 but it was represented to the “procureur general” as a performance offensive to religion and the author, by order of cardinal Fleury, withdrew it from the stage. “Merope,” played two years after, 1743, gave an idea of a species of tragedy, of which few models have existed. It was at the representation of this tragedy that the pit and boxes were clamorous for a sight of the author; yet it was severely criticised when it came from the press. He now became a favourite at court, through the interest of madam d'Etoile, afterwards marchioness of Pompadour. Being employed in preparing the festivities that were celebrated on the marriage of the dauphin, he attained additional honours by composing “The Princess of Navarre.” He was appointed a gentleman of the bed-chamber in ordinary, and historiographer of France. The latter office had, till his time, been almost a sinecure; but Voltaire, who had written, under the direction of the count d'Argenson, the “History of the War of 1741,” was employed by that minister in many important negociations from 1745 to 1747; the project of invading England in 1746 was attributed to him and he drew up the king ofFrance’s manifesto in favour of the pretender. He had frequently attempted to gain admittance into the academy of sciences, but could not obtain his wish till 1746 , when he was the first who broke through the absurd custom of filling an inaugural speech with the fulsome adulation of Richelieu; an example soon followed by other academicians. From, the satires occasioned by this innovation he felt so much uneasiness, that he was glad to retire with the marchioness du Chateletto Luneville, in the neighbourhood of king Stanislaus. The marchioness dying in 1749, Voltaire returned to Paris, where his stay was but short* Though he had many admirers, he was perpetually complaining of a cabal combined to filch from him that glory of which he was insatiable. “The jealousy and manoeuvres of a court,” he would say, “are the subject of conversation; there is more of them among the literati.” His friends and relations endeavoured in vain to relieve his anxiety, by lavishing commendations on him, and by exaggerating his success. He imagined he should find in a foreign country a greater degree of applause, tranquillity, and reward, and augment at the same time both his fortune and reputation, which were already very considerable. The king of Prussia, who had repeatedly invited him to his court, and who would have given any thing to have got him away from Silesia, attached him at last to his person by a pension of 22,000 livres, and the hope of farther favour . From the particular respect that was paid to him, his time was now spent in the most agreeable manner; his apartments were under those of the king, whom he was allowed to visit at stated hours, to read with him the best works of either ancient or modern authors, and to assist his majesty in the literary productions by which he relieved the cares of government. But this happiness was soon at an end; and Voltaire saw, to his mortification, when it was too late, that, where a man is sufficiently rich to be master of himself, neither his liberty, his family, nor his country, should be sacrificed for a pension. A dispute which our poet had with Manpertuis, the president of the academy at Berlin, was followed by disgrace . It has been said that the king of Prussia dismissed him with this reproof: “I do not drive you away, because I called you hither; I do not take away your pension, because I have given it to you; I only forbid you my presence.” Not a word of this is true; the fact is, that he sent to the king the key of his office as chamberlain, and the cross of the order of merit, with these verses: