rather Santeuil, John Baptist de, in Latin Santolius Victorinus, an excellent Latin poet, was born at Paris in 1630. Having finished his studies in Louis the Great's college, he applied himself entirely to poetry, and celebrated in his verse the praises of several great men; by which he acquired universal applause. He enriched Paris with a great number of inscriptions, which are to be seen on the public fountains, and the monuments consecrated to posterity. At length, some new hymns being to be composed for the Breviary of Paris, Claude Santeuil his brother, and M. Bossuet, persuaded him to undertake that work; and he succeeded in it with the greatest applause. On which the order of Clugny desiring him to compose some for their Breviary, he complied with their request; and that order, out of gratitude, granted him letters of affiliation, with an annual pension. Santeuil was caressed by all the learned men of his time; and had for his admirers the two princes of Condé, the father and son, from whom he frequently received favours. Louis XIV. also gave him a proof of his esteem, by bestowing a pension upon him. He attended the Duke of Bourbon to Dijon, when that prince went thither in order to hold the states of Burgundy; and died there in 1697, as he was preparing to return to Paris. Besides his Latin hymns, he wrote a great number of Latin Poems, which have all the fire and marks of genius discoverable in the works of great poets.

To Santeuil we are indebted for many fine church-hymns, as above mentioned. Santeuil read the verses he made for the inhabitants of heaven with all the agitations of a demoniac. Despreaux said he was the devil whom God compelled to praise saints. He was among the number of poets whose genius was as impetuous as his muse was decent.

La Bruyere has painted the character of this singular and truly original poet in the most lively colours. "Image a man of great felicity of temper, complaisant and docile, in an instant violent, choleric, passionate, and capricious. A man simple, credulous, playful, volatile, puerile; in a word, a child in gray hairs: but let him collect himself, or rather call forth his interior genius, I venture to say, without his knowledge or privacy, what sallies! what elevation! what images! what latinity! Do you speak of one and the same person, you will ask? Yes, of the same; of Theodas, and of him alone. He shrieks, he jumps, he rolls upon the ground, he roars, he storms; and in the midst of this tempest, a flame issues that shines, that rejoices. Without a figure, he rattles like a fool, and thinks like a wise man. He utters truths in a ridiculous way; and, in an idiotic manner, rational and sensible things. It is astonishing to find good sense disclose itself from the bosom of buffoonery, accompanied with grimaces and contortions. What shall I say more? He does and he says better than he knows. These are like two souls that are unacquainted with each other, which have each their turn and separate functions."