to that application of the science to physiology, of which Borelli and others had set an example. He translated, and commented upon, the work of.that author De Motu Animalium; and although he was proceeding upon false principles, he gave extraordinary proofs of zeal and application at a very early period. In his twentieth year he went to Paris, where, under the great masters in surgery and anatomy who then flourished, he found unlimited employment for the ardour of his mind in the acquisition of knowledge. His time was almost wholly spent at the hospitals and anatomical theatres, and he had nearly fallen a victim to his close attendance in places so unfavourable to health. A cachectical disease confined him for almost twelve months to his bed, and he was solely indebted to his youth, and the care of a young friend, for his recovery. Neither his circumstances nor his spirit permitted him to give much time to repose. In the winter of 1766 he commenced teacher of anatomy, and soon had 300 pupils, most of them older than himself. His success excited the jealousy of the privileged professors, who employed all the resources of authority to silence him; and notwithstanding the protection of some eminent surgeons, he would have been obliged to renounce his lectures, had he not been allowed to sanction them with the name of a celebrated physician. Though hisreputation was now much extended, he refused private practice till he should have obtained some distinguished public station. In 1776 the corporation of surgeons admitted him as a member, with the indulgence of paying his fees when it should be convenient to him; whence it may be supposed that he had hitherto gained nothing but fame. He rose gradually through the honourable stations in the corporation and academy of surgery; and at length, in 1782, was made surgeonmajor to the hospital De la Charité. Regarded now as one of the first surgeons in Paris, he came into the next vacancy at the Hotel Dieu, and, after the death of Moreau, almost the whole care of that hospital devolved upon him. There he instituted a clinical school for surgery, upon a very judicious and extensive plan, which drew a vast conflux of students, both natives and foreigners. More than 600 auditors have attended at once on the instructions given in it, and most of the surgeons who have been employed in the French army derived their knowledge from it. Dessault's practice was distinguished for efficacy and simplicity. He was the author or introducer of various improvements in surgery, among which were bandages for the retention of fractured limbs, the use of compression in the cure of ulcers, that of ligature in umbilical hernias of children, the extraction of loose cartilages in joints, the use of bougies in scirrhosities of the rectum, that of elastic probes in contractions of the urethra ; and he improved the construction of various chirurgical instruments. In 1791 he published a "Journal de Chirurgerie," the editing of which he committed to his pupils. Its purpose was to record the most interesting occurrences in his clinical school, with the remarks made upon them in his lectures. While in the midst of his useful labours, he was denounced, in 1792, to the popular societies under the cant terms of an egotist, an indifferent, &c.; and after undergoing two examinations, he was carried away from his theatre in the act of giving a lecture, and committed to the Luxemburg prison. His usefulness probably saved him from the fate which the tyranny of the time brought upon so many eminent men. He was liberated within three days, and resumed his functions. On the establishment of the School of Health, he was appointed clinical professor for externalmaladies; and he obtained the conversion of the Evêché into an hospital for chirurgical operations. The violences of May, 1795, produced such an effect on his mind, from fear of the renewal of former horrors, that he was seized with a fever, attended with delirium, which put an end to his life on the 1st of June, at the age of fifty-one. As he died but a short time before the dauphin, whom he attended in the Temple, a notion was entertained among the populace that he was poisoned in consequence of having refused to do any thing against the life of that unhappy youth. Though this story was probably without foundation, it shews the opinion entertained by the public of the integrity of Dessault. The republic settled a pension upon his widow. Glory, and not emolument, had always been the object of his ambition, and he had neglected many opportunities of enriching himself. He was passionately attached to his art, and was indifferent to other pleasures and pursuits. His temper was ardent, and rather violent, but his sentiments were elevated and noble. He left behind him a work entitled "Traité des Maladies chirurgicales, & des Operations qui leur conviennent," two vols. 8vo. Necrolog.-A. DESTOUCHES, PHILIP NERICAULT, an eminent writer of French comedy, was born in 1680, of a reputable family, at Tours. Being destined for the law, he was early sent to Paris for literary improvement; but the consequences of a love affair in which he engaged at the age of sixteen, made it necessary for him to quit his situation. He found no better resource than entering as a private soldier into a regiment under orders for Spain. He was present at the siege of Barcelona, and narrowly escaped being buried under a mine which destroyed almost the whole of his company. His subsequent adventures for some time are not well known; but it is commonly supposed that he entered into a provincial company of players, in which situation he visited Switzerland. A talent for poetry began at this time to develope itself, and he ventured to submit some of his compositions to the judgment of the formidable Boileau. He also composed a comedy, the "Curieux Impertinent," which was acted with great applause in Switzerland, and afterwards in France. While he was at Soleure he attracted the notice of the marquis de Puysieux, embassador from France to the Cantons, who discerned in him talents superior to the station he then occupied. The marquis made him his secretary, and obtained for him court favours which placed him in a respectable condition. On returning to Paris he pursued the carcer of dramatic writing, and successively brought out the comedies of "L'Ingrat," "L'irresolu," and "Le Medisant." These were well received, and raised him to a high rank among the writers of the time. The regent duke of Orleans, who esteemed him both as a literary character, and a man of business, sent him to England in 1717 as assistant to the, abbé Dubois, in the negociations carried on between the two courts. After the departure of Dubois, Destouches remained as sole resident, which post he occupied six or seven years. He married in England, but circumstances obliged him for some time to keep the connection seHe gave a proof of his filial duty, by sending 40,000 livres out of his savings to his father, who was burdened with a large family, though it seems as if he had experienced little paternal kindness during his youth. On his return to his country, the regent expressed great satisfaction with his conduct, and gave him high expectations of future recompence; but the death of that prince put an end to his prospects of advancement. He thenceforth devoted himself to a literary retreat. He was admitted into the French Academy in 1723, and soon after purchased a small estate at Fortoiseau near Melun, which became his residCardinal Fleury some years afterwards made him the offer of going to Russia as em ence. bassador; but he declined it. He continued to write for the stage, and produced his two best pieces, "Le Philosophe Marie," and "Le Glorieux;" the latter of which, especially, ranks among the most esteemed French comedies since the days of Moliere. Though he wrote several more pieces, they did not augment the reputation he had already acquired; yet "Le Dissipateur," not acted till after his death, has several points of excellence. He entirely abandoned theatrical writing at the age of sixty, and thenceforth employed his pen in the service of religion, and in combating the infidelity of the age. He sent to the Mercure Galant several long dissertations on controversial topics; and he composed a vast number of epigrams against unbelievers, of which he distinguished seven or eight hundred by the title of select. If he did not add much to his literary reputation by these efforts, he at least proved the sincerity of his faith. Destouches died in 1754, at the age of seventyfour. His memory was honoured with the permission of printing an edition of his works at the Louvre, four volumes 4to. 1757: since reprinted in ten volumes 12mo. As a comic writer, he is reckoned to be inferior to Regnard in gaiety and humour, to Moliere in truth and nature, and in unforced pleasantry; but in the opinion of many he deserves a place next to them. He surpasses them in the morality and decorum of his pieces; and he had the art, which so few have since possessed, of attaining the pathetic, without losing that vis comica which is the essential character of this species of composition. He also well understood stage-effect and the management of plot, and wrote in a pure and natural style. His pieces have been relished by foreigners as well as by natives, as his portraitures have been drawn from human nature in general, rather than from its peculiar modifications by fashion and country. D'Alembert Eloges Acad. Voltaire Siecle de Louis XIV.—A. DEVEREUX, ROBERT, I. earl of Essex, a person of great distinction in the reign of queen Elizabeth, was the son of Walter earl of Essex, by a daughter of sir Francis Knolles, who was related to the queen. He was born in 1567, at Netherwood in Herefordshire. He was in his tenth year at the decease of his father, who left him in the guardianship of Cecil lord Burleigh. He inherited a considerable estate, though diminished by his father's ill-repaid exertions for the public service in Ireland; and the friends of his family were numerous and powerful. At the age of twelve he was sent to Trinity college, Cambridge, where he was strictly educated under the tuition of Dr. Whitgift, afterwards archbishop of Canterbury. After an abode of four years at the university, he spent some time in retirement at his seat in Wales, and at that period displayed none of the fire and ambition which afterwards distinguished him. In his seventeenth year, however, he was introduced at court, where he was received with much favour, as well on account of his personal qualifications, as his connection with the favourite, the earl of Leicester, who had married his mother. In 1585 he accompanied that nobleman to Holland, where, in the next year, he so much distinguished himself at the battle of Zutphen, as to be created a knight-banneret in the camp. On his return he was made master of the horse in the place of the earl of Leicester advanced to the post of high-steward. In 1588, when the queen assembled an army at Tilbury to resist the Spanish invasion, the earl of Essex was appointed general of the horse; and he was soon after decorated with the order of the garter. This course of elevation had its natural effect upon the mind of a young man, of inspiring a headstrong and presumptuous spirit. This he displayed by a quarrel with Charles Blount, afterwards lord Mountjoy, his rival in the queen's favour, which occasioned a duel. Essex received a wound in the knee; and the queen, who loved to see the haughty humbled, said on the occasion, that it was fit some one or other should take him down, or there would be no ruling him. It is to the credit of the rivals that they afterwards became intimate friends. In 1589 he gave proof of his enterprising, and at the same time uncontrollable, disposition, by joining, without leave, an expedition under the conduct of sir John Norris and sir Francis Drake, for the purpose of restoring Don Antonio to the throne of Portugal. The attempt was not successful, but the earl had occasion to exhibit his courage, and that spirit of chivalry which accompanied the valour of the age. While skirmishing in the neighbourhood of Lisbon, he challenged by sound of trumpet the governor, or any person of equal quality with himself, to single combat. The queen, who expressed high displeasure for his undutiful departure, was soon reconciled to him; and bestowed upon him marks of favour unusual from her, in various grants of land of considerable value. The death of the earl of Leicester, while it deprived him of some support, yet opened a larger field to his ambition; and, by courting the puritans, he succeeded to the place of head of that party. He made a private marriage about this time with Frances, only daughter of sir Francis Walsingham, and widow of sir Philip Sidney, with which the queen was not well pleased. In 1591 he was sent with a body of 4000 men to the assistance of Henry IV. king of France, then fighting against the league. He assisted in the siege of Rouen, and exposed his person and men freely; but for want of due co-operation nothing of consequence was effected. In one of the actions he lost his only brother, Walter Devereux, a gallant officer. He sent an idle challenge to the governor of Rouen, and, soon after, left the army and returned to England, where his conduct had been much censured. Among other things, his conferring knighthood upon a number of his officers gave great offence to the queen, who observed, that he would have done well to have built alms-houses to lodge them in. He vindicated himself however, and retained the queen's favour, who soon after created him a privy-counsellor. In 1596 he was appointed joint commander with lord Howard, high-admiral of England, in an expedition to the coast of Spain. Sir Walter Raleigh, and several other distinguished commanders, were in the armament, which was one of the most powerful that in those times had been fitted out. The fleet arrived off Cadiz, and after a fruitless attempt to land, it was resolved to steer into the harbour, and attack the ships of war lying there. Essex, who was the chief adviser of this bold measure, was so overjoyed when it was determined upon, that he threw his hat into the sea. He joined in the naval attack among the foremost, though contrary to his promise to the admiral, and afterwards landed a body of men at the point, and led them on to the storm of the place. Their valour was irresistible; and the humanity of Essex in stopping the slaughter as soon as the town was gained, and his courtesy in the treatment of his prisoners, soners, were not less conspicuous than his bravery in action. A rich plunder was obtained in the city, and an immense loss was incurred by the Spaniards, who burnt all their shipping and merchandise, that they might not fall into the hands of the enemy. Essex would willingly have kept possession of Cadiz, but this intention was overruled. He proposed several other attempts against the enemy, but the officers in general were satisfied with their success, and the fleet returned home in triumph. The earl acquired great popularity from this expedition, in which he had behaved with dis tinguished gallantry. A narration of it, however, which he published, and in which he was thought to arrogate to himself an undue share of merit, as well as to censure the other commanders unjustly, excited much ill-will against him; and there were not wanting those who infused into his sovereign suspicions of his designs, and aggravated every cause of discontent between them. Still she preserved a partiality for him which could not be removed. She gave him the office of master of the ordnance; and upon the rumour of an intended invasion of Ireland by the Spaniards, she appointed him to the chief command of a fleet equipped to oppose them. After this had once been put back by a storm, it sailed again with the double purpose of burning the Spanish men-of-war in their harbours, and intercepting their West-India fleet. Nothing, however, was done but the taking of Fayal by sir Walter Raleigh with a separate squadron, which occasioned a dispute between him and the earl of Essex; and the flect returned with little glory. Mutual accusations among the commanders ensued, and Essex retired for a time in ill-humour, which was at length soothed by his elevation to the dignity of earl marshal of England, December, 1597. In the next year, when a peace with Spain was in agitation, it was much opposed by Essex, cither from real regard to the interests of his country, or the habits and sentiments of a military man. The old treasurer, lord Burleigh, was greatly displeased at his opposition, and, after some warm debate, drew out a Prayer-book, from which he read to Essex, "Men of blood shall not live out half their days.' Essex, on this occasion, knowing that he was defamed to the public as an enemy to peace, drew up an eloquent apology for himself, addressed to his intimate friend Anthony Bacon. On the death of Burleigh, he succeeded him in the chancellorship of the university of Cambridge. About this time a singular incident took place, which strongly marks his character and that of the queen, and probably had no small influence over his after-fortune. A private council was held upon the choice of a proper person to be sent as governor of Ireland. Essex proposed sir George Carew, but the queen was more inclined to sir William Knolles. The dispute became warm, and Essex, unable to persuade her majesty, contemptuously turned his back upon her. Provoked at this insolence, she, in her usual coarse manner, bade him "Go and be hanged," and gave him a box on the ear. He immeHe imme diately clapped his hand upon his sword, and swore he neither could nor would put up with such an affront, which he would not have taken from king Henry VIII. himself. The lord admiral interposed, and Essex withdrew in high wrath. The breach was violent, and the lordkeeper Egerton wrote a very prudential letter to the earl, advising him to make his submission. Essex returned a spirited and very characteristic answer, marked with starts of passion, and sentiments of freedom uncommon at the time. "When the vilest of indignities are done unto me," says he, "doth religion enforce me to sue? What, cannot princes err? Cannot subjects receive wrong? Is an earthly power or authority infinite? Pardon me, pardon me, my good lord, I can never subscribe to these principles." In conclusion, however, he was induced to make acknowledgments, which restored him to apparent favour, though there is reason to believe that his violence was never forgotten by the queen. The troubles in Ireland from the rebellion of Tyrone at this time continuing, it was proposed to send over a new governor; and they who were jealous of Essex's influence at home, promoted his appointment to that post. With some hesitation he accepted the offer, as the likeliest means to retrieve his credit and obliterate the memory of late events; but his conflicts of mind on the occasion may be comprehended from the letter he wrote to the queen before his departure, which, for the energetic expression of internal anguish, is scarcely to be paralleled. It begins, "From a mind delighting in sorrow, from spirits wasted with passion, from a heart torn in pieces with care, grief, and travel; from a man that hateth himself, and all things else that keep him alive; what service can your Majesty expect, since any service past deserves no more than banishment and proscription to the cursedest of all islands?" With such an ill-omened disposition did he assume a government, rendered more considerable in powers, forces, and appointments, than it had been in the hands of any of his predecessors. He was attended out of London by a great crowd of people and many of the nobility, and arrived in Ireland in April, 1599. By the interested advice of the Irish council, he was persuaded to march into Munster in order to quell a rebellion there, before he proceeded into Ulster against Tyrone. This was a fatal error; for though he soon brought Munster to a temporary submission, yet his troops were greatly harassed with fatigue and sickness, and upon his return to Dublin were much diminished in number. A party of them were also disgracefully routed in an encounter, with which Essex was so much provoked, that though his natural temper was not cruel, he thought fit to practise the severe discipline of decimating the fug tives. He obtained a reinforcement from England, and then marched against Tyrone, with a small and dispirited army. Finding himself unable to effect any thing of consequence, he agreed to hold a conference with the Irish chief, which was followed by a suspension of arms, and proposals of peace. The news of these transactions, so contrary to the great expectations which had been formed in England, and had been fostered by the boasts of Essex himself, was received by the queen and her council with high displeasure, and several sharp letters passed on both sides. Essex resolved to give up his command, and at one time had entertained the desperate design of bringing part of his army with him to England. From this he was dissuaded; but, still determined to confront his enemies at home, he left Ireland contrary to the express commands of his mistress, and hastened to the court. Arriving totally unexpected, he directly went up stairs to the presence-chamber, stained as he was with travel, and finding the queen in her bed-chamber newly risen, he fell on his knees, made his apology, and was received more graciously than he could have expected. But this was only the effect of the surprise consequent upon his sudden appearance. He was soon after treated with harsh ness, committed to private custody, examined with rigour before the council, and suspended from all his employments, except that of master of the horse. He received all these chastisements with great submission, though the inward struggle with his haughty spirit was such as to throw him into a disease, in which he had the satisfaction of being favoured with some extraordinary tokens of the queen's remaining regard, which, indeed, had always seemed to partake of an amorous passion. He was at length set at liberty, and might still have been a favourite, had not the queen's refusal of renowing to him a gainful monopoly of sweet wines, thrown him into such an irritation as to disregard all the suggestions of prudence. He listened to the dangerous counsels of Cuffe, who had been his secretary in Ireland, a man of a daring and arrogant character; cultivated the friendship of disaffected persons; and indulged himself in freedoms of speech respect ing the queen. One of his expressions, which was repeated to her, and could never be forgotten, was, "That the queen grew old and cankered, and that her mind was become as crooked as her carcase." He also carried on a secret correspondence with James king of Scotland, the object of which was to procure a public declaration of his right of succession to the English throne; and he even would have engaged his friend lord Mountjoy, deputy of Ireland, to bring over troops in order to compel this measure. But his zeal in this matter, imprudent as it might be, seems completely to acquit him of any intention to claim the crown. for himself, with which he has been charged; though it appears that some of his sanguine partisans did mention him among the pretenders to the succession, in virtue of his maternal descent. When his own imprudences on the one hand, and the ill offices of his enemies on the other, had brought his fortune to a crisis, and he was become ripe for the most desperate projects, a conspiracy was formed in his council of friends to seize on the queen's person, remove his enemies, and settle a new plan of government. Some circumstances inducing him to believe that this was discovered, his remaining resource was to endeavour to raise in his favour the city of London, where he flattered himself with being extremely popular. The queen, being informed of his design, sent the lord keeper Egerton, with other persons of rank, to Essex-house, in order to confer with him. They found there a number of persons in arms, and were themselves detained as prisoners, while the carl, accompanied by some noblemen and about two hundred gentlemen went into the city. Such had been the previous measurcs taken there, that instead of being joined, he found himself publicly proclaimed a traitor, and the streets barricaded against his return. Making his way to the river's side with his principal followers, he got back in boats to his house in the Strand, where he was soon invested by the queen's forces, and obliged to surrender at discretion. He was committed to the Tower, with his chief adherent the earl of Southampton, and a jury of peers was appointed for their trial. Their guilt was easily proved, sentence was pronounced, and Essex received it like a man prepared for his fate. "If (said he) 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." As he had always a strong sense of religion, which was now enforced by the prospect of another world, his chaplains were |