laugh at that which they cannot argue
against.' Such characters are well described in the following lines,

See then our Atheist all the world oppose,
And like Drawcansir make all men his foes.
See with what fancy pride he does pretend,
His miser father's notions to amend,
Huffs Plutarch, Plato, Pliny, Seneca,
And bids even Cicero himself give way.
Tells all the world, they follow a false light,
And he alone, of all mankind is right.
Thus, like a madman, who when all alone,
Thinks himself King, and every chair a throne,
Drunk with conceit, and foolish impudence,
He prides himself in his abounding sense.

This prelate is said to have united the gentleman, and the divine,
which both shone out with equal lustre in him. He was esteemed in his
time a very popular preacher; his piety was great, and conspicuous;
his charity and benevolence equalled by few, and his good nature, and
humanity the most extensive.

Our author died in the 53d year of his age, April 30, 1724. We have
no account of any other of his grace's poetical works, probably the
business of his high station diverted his mind from the amusements of
poetry.

The archbishop has written several sermons upon the Eternity of Hell
Torments, a doctrine which he has laboured to vindicate; also sermons
upon various other subjects.

* * * * *

WILLIAM CONGREVE, Esq;

This gentleman was descended from the ancient house of Congreve in
Staffordshire, but authors differ as to the place of his birth; some
contend that he was born in Ireland[A], others that he drew his first
breath at the village of Bardsa, near Leeds in Yorkshire, which was
the estate of a near relation of his by his mother's side. Mr. Jacob,
in his preface to the Lives of the Poets, has informed us, that he
had the advice and assistance of Mr. Congreve in that work, who
communicated to him many particulars of the lives of cotemporary
writers, as well as of himself, and as Mr. Congreve can hardly be
thought ignorant of the place of his own birth, and Mr. Jacob has
asserted it to be in England, no room is left to doubt of it. The
learned antiquary of Ireland, Sir James Ware, has reckoned our author
amongst his own country worthies, from the relation of Southern; but
Mr. Congreve's own account, if Jacob may be relied on, is more than
equal to that of Southern, who possibly might be mistaken.

About the year 1671, or 1672, our author was