ALEXIS, a French poet, was born at Dijon in July 1689, where his father was an apothecary, and where he passed more than 30 years in idle and destructive dissipation. He was at length obliged to quit the place of his nativity, in order to avoid the reproaches of his fellow-citizens, on account of an ode which he had written, and which gave great offence. His relations not being able to give him much assistance, he supported himself at Paris by means of his pen, the strokes of which were as beautiful and fair as those of an engraver. He lived in the house of M. de Belleisle as his secretary, and afterwards with a financier, who did not know that he had a man of genius under his roof. His reputation as a writer commenced with some pieces which he published for the entertainment of the populace, and which showed strong marks of original invention; but what fully established his character in this way was his comedy intitled Metromang, which was the best that had appeared in France since Regnard's Gamester. This performance, in five acts, well conducted, replete with genius, wit, and humour, was acted with the greatest success upon the French stage in 1738. The author met with every attention in the capital which was due to a man of real genius, and whose flashes of wit were inexhaustible. We shall insert a few anecdotes of him, which will serve to show his character and turn of mind.

In Burgundy the inhabitants of Beaune are called the Asses of Beaune. Piron often indulged his satirical disposition at their expense. One day as he was taking a walk in the neighbourhood of that city, he diverted himself with cutting down all the thistles which he met with. When a friend asked him his reason for doing so, he replied, "J'ai à me plaindre des Beaunois; je leur coupe les vivres," i.e. "I am sorry indeed for the Beaunois; for I am cutting down their food." Being told again that these people would certainly be revenged of him,

Allez, (says he) Allez: je ne crains point leur impuissant courroux; Et quand je serais seul, je les battrois tous.

"Get you gone, get you gone: I fear not their feeble revenge; for though alone, I shall beat them all." Going into a theatre one time where a play was acting, he asked what it was? The Cheats of Scapin, gravely replied a young Beaunian. "Ah! Sir, (says Piron, after thanking him), I took it to be the Cheats of Orestes." In the time of the play, some body addresses the company with "Silence there, gentlemen, we don't hear." "It is not at least (cried Piron) for want of ears." A bishop one day asked Piron, during the disputes about Jansenism, "Did you read my mandate, Mr Piron?" No, my lord; and you—The conversation turning very warm, the bishop reminded him of the distance which birth and rank had put between them. "Sir (says Piron), I have plainly the superiority over you at this moment; for I am in the right, and you are in the wrong."—Voltaire's Semiramis did not meet with a very favourable reception the first time it was acted. The author finding Piron behind the scenes, asked him what he thought of his performance? "I think (replied he) you would have been pleased that I had been the author of it." The performer of the character Ferdinand Cortez (the title of one of Piron's tragedies) having requested some corrections to be made on the play the first time it was acted, Piron fired at the word corrections. The player, who was deputed to wait upon the author with this request, cited the example of Voltaire, who corrected some of his pieces in order to gratify the taste of the public. "The cases are widely different (replied Piron); Voltaire works in chequer-work, and I cast in brass." If this answer be not very modest, we must allow that it does not want wit. He thought himself, if not superior, at least equal to Voltaire. Some person congratulating him on having composed the best comedy of this age, he answered, with more frankness than modesty, "Add too, and the best tragedy." The following verses are well known, in which he says:

En deux mots voulez-vous distinguer et connaitre Le rimeur Dijonnais et le Parisien? Le premier ne fut rien, et ne voulut rien être; L'autre voulut tout être, et ne fut presque rien.

We see by these different traits that Piron had a sufficient stock of self-conceit. What helped to increase it, and make him fancy himself superior to the most celebrated of his contemporaries, was, that his company, on account of his original humour, of which he had an uncommon share, was more courted than that of Voltaire, who was otherwise too lively, too captious, and crabbed. But those who have favoured us with an account of his many witticisms in conversation, would have done more honour to his memory if they had passed over such as were either indecent or insipid. A thing often pleases over a glass of wine, which will not give the same satisfaction when it is repeated, especially if, in repeating it, you want to make it appear of some importance. Be that as it may, Piron's mischievous ingenuity was partly the cause which excluded him from the French Academy.—"I could not (said he) make thirty-nine people think as I do, and I could less think as thirty-nine do." He called that celebrated society very unjustly les invalides du bel esprit, "the invalids of wit;" and yet he often endeavoured to be one of those invalids. His death was hastened by a fall which he got a little before. He died the 21st of January 1773, at the age of 83. He had prepared for himself the following epitaph, in the way of an epigram:

Ci git Piron, qui ne fut rien, Pas même académicien.

"Here lies Piron, who was nothing, not even an academician."

His wife Maria Theresa Quenandon, who died in 1751, he describes as a sweet and most agreeable companion. They lived together for several years; and no husband ever discharged his duty with more fidelity and attention.

A collection of his works appeared in 1776, in 7 vols. 8vo, and 9 vols. 12mo. The principal pieces are, The School of Fathers; a comedy acted in 1728 under the title of Ungrateful Sons. Callisthenes; a tragedy, the subject of which is taken from Justin. The Mysterious Lover, a comedy. Gustavus and Ferdinand Cortez, two tragedies; some scenes of which discover an original genius, but the versification neither pleases the ear nor affects the heart. Metromany, a comedy. The Courses of Tempe, an ingenious pastoral, in which the manners both of the town and country are pleasantly drawn. Some odes, poems, fables, and epigrams. In this last kind of poetry he was very successful, and he may be placed after Marot and Rousseau. There was no occasion for loading the public with 7 vols of his works; the half of that number might have sufficed. For, excepting Metromany, Gustavus, the Courses of Tempe, some odes, about 20 epigrams, three or four fables, and some epistles, the rest are but indifferent, and have no claim to any extraordinary merit.