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endeavour at leaft fo far to alter and improve it, that they may rather feem to rival, than copy after their original. There is one very remarkable inftance of this, among many others, in Virgil, which I fhall here mention. Homer reprefents Thetis as addreffing to Vulcan, to make her fon Achilles a new suit of armour, upon the death of Patroclus. And Virgil, borrowing the thought from him, defcribes Venus foliciting him upon the like account for her fon Æneas. But they very much differ in defcribing the circumstances of this affair; for Virgil no where follows Homer, where he thinks he can improve upon him. Homer places Vulcan's workhouse among the feats of the celeftial deities; but Virgil feems to have thought that not so proper a place for a fmith's forge, and therefore fixes it in a little ifland near Sicily. In Homer, Thetis finds Vulcan imployed in making caldrons; but Virgil affigns his workmen a more noble imployment, in forming thunderbolts. The finest piece of armour in both is the fhield. And here Virgil has in a particular manner shewn his great judgment, and art in imitation, For though the ornaments upon the fhield of Achilles are very beautifully defcribed by Homer; yet he has embellished it with many things, that have no relation to the character of an hero; fuch as mufic, dancing, a marriage, a lawfuit, the labours of hufbandmen, and of thepherds. But Virgil has represented upon his fhield the great actions of the Romans, as defcendants of Æneas, down from Afcanius, to M. Antony's defeat at Actium by Auguftus; the moft proper imagery for a warrior, and fitted to infpire him with courage, as often as he viewed it. In this then confifts the true art of imitation, fo to diverfify what we take from others, as, if we can, to improve it, or at least not fuffer it to receive any detriment by our alteration. And this is chiefly done by fome or other of the following methods, which I fhall illuftrate by examples taken from Cicero.

One way is fo to enlarge a thought, or expreflion taken from another, as in a good meafure to render it our own. It is well known, that Cicero, in his orations against Mark Antony, followed the pattern of Demofthenes, in his invectives against king Philip, for which reafon Cicero has given his the name of Philippics. Now Demofthenes makes ute of the following ar gument, to infpire the Athenians with courage in defence of their country, by carrying on a vigorous war against king Philip. Your ancestors, fays he, have left you this glory, which they procured for you by many honourable and eminent dangers. Cicero ufes the fame argument, when he endeavours to perfuade the Romans to declare Mark Antony a traitor to his country; but has fo difguiled it, by his manner of introducing it, and inlargement upon it, that it is not eafily obfervable, from whence

he

he took it. We do not, fays he, confider now, upon what terms we shall live; but, whether we are to live at all, or fuffer an ignominious death. But though nature has made death common to all, courage renders us fuperior both to its pain and dijgrace. This has never been wanting to the Romans. Therefore preferve this, citizens, which your ancestors have left you as an inheritance. For when all other things are uncertain, fading, and changeable; true courage is fo deeply rooted, it can never be fhook, never be moved. It was by this our ancestors firft conquered all Italy, and afterwards demolished Carthage, deftroyed Numantia, and brought the most powerful kings, and warlike nations into a fubjection to this government. No one can doubt, upon comparing thefe paflages in the two orations, but that Cicero took from Demofthenes that thought, when he reprefents courage in defence of their country, as an inheritance left them by their ancestors; though he fo enlarges it by a variety, both of arguments and examples, that it is in a great measure concealed.

A fecond method is, when we either abridge, or take only a part of what another has faid before us. After the battle at Cheronea, in which the Athenians had been defeated by king Philip, Demofthenes, in a funeral oration, which he made in praise of thofe, who upon that occafion had loft their lives in the defence of their country, to alleviate the grief of their friends, fays: How can they be thought otherwife than happy, who being placed among the ancient worthies in the islands of the bleed, may be justly thought affeffors with the deities below Cicero borrows part of this in his xivth Philippic, in which he applauds the, bravery of thofe Romans, who were killed in the battle against Mark Antony before Mutina. Thofe impious wretches, fays he, whom you have flain, will fuffer the punishment of their parricide in the infernal regions; but you, who expired in victory, are feated among the bleed. Nature has granted us a fhort term of life; but the memory of it, when well employed, is eternal. He omits the excess of compliment, in joining them with the infernal deities: but when Demofthenes had only fpoken of them as in a state of happiness, he addrefles to them, which gives a ftronger idea of their existence, and confequently of their enjoyment of that felicity.

A third method is to keep the thought, but apply it to a different fubject. Of this we have also an inftance in Cicero, whose introduction to his oration for Quinctius is taken from that of Demofthenes, in his defence of Ctefiphon. They both complain of two difadvantages, they laboured under in their pleading. Thofe mentioned by Demofthenes are, first, that it would be of much worfe confequence for him, if he did not fucceed, than for his adverfary Achines; and fecondly, that

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moft

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moft people are better pleased to hear another accused, than a perfon commend himself, though it be necessary for his defence. But Cicero's two things are, that the adverse party had more intereft, and greater eloquence; which two things, as he says, had then the greatest influence at Rome.

The laft way I fhall mention is, when the thoughts are preferved, and applied to the fame fubject; but either the order of them is changed, or they are reprefented in a different drefs. Thus Demofthenes, in one of his orations against Ariftogiton, very eloquently fhews the neceffity, and advantage of the laws to all forts of people, by enumerating the feveral orders and ranks of perfons in the ftate. And Cicero, in his defence of Cluentius, does the like in as florid a way, but pretty much different as to the manner, and form of his expreffions.

And now what has been faid may, I hope, be fufficient to explain the nature of imitation, and direct our conduct in the practice of it.

How far fyftems of oratory are useful or neceffary towards forming an orator, is what we shall not take upon us to determine; we fhall only fay, that our author's is written with more exactness and judgment than any modern fyftem that we are acquainted with. It is collected, as the Doctor himself informs us, from the fineft precepts of Ariftotle, Cicero, Quintilian, Longinus, and other celebrated authors; with proper examples taken from the choiceft parts of the pureft antiquity: of all which, the foregoing abstract will afford our readers a competent fpecimen. R

The Authenticity of the Gospel-biflory juftified: and the truth of the chriftian revelation demonftrated, from the laws and conftitution of human nature. By the late Archibald Campbell, D. D. Regius Profeffor of divinity and ecclefiaftical history in the university of St. Andrews. 8vo. 2 Vols. 10s. few'd. Edinburgh printed; and fold by A. Millar in London.

THE

HE fubject of this work has been so often and fo fully treated, and the evidences of chriftianity have been fet in fuch a variety of lights by many able writers, that fcarce any thing new can be expected from thofe who engage in the defence of the chriftian revelation. The advocates for infidelity, indeed, animated, no doubt, by a noble zeal for truth, and a warm and generous concern for the good of mankind, are conftantly renewing their attacks upon the religion of Jefus; and thus, though they do little befides new modelling the paradoxes of antient fcepticifm, reduce the chriftian divine to the neceffity

of

of repeating the fame things over and over again, of explaining and inculcating the plainest truths, and of anfwering the moft trifling objections that were ever urged in any cause of impor

tance.

As to the work now before us, it was left finished, we are told, by the author himself, who had employed many years in the fearch of moral and religious truths. His abilities, as a writer, are well known to thofe, who have read his Inquiry into the origin of moral virtue, into the extent of the human powers with respect to matters of religion, and his Account of the nature and origin of enthusiasm. If those who have not seen 'these Pieces, will give themselves the trouble of perufing this his laft work, they will fee that he was well acquainted with his fubject, that he has treated it in a judicious and fenfible manner, and that he was poffeffed of a very confiderable share of learning. Without giving any extracts from what he has advanced, we shall present our readers with a general view of what is contained in his book.

In his preface, he addresses himself, in a very serious and fenfible manner, to modern free thinkers, and exhorts them to confider what is the great point they have in view, and what would be the confequence thould they be fuccefsful in their endeavours to extirpate the belief of revelation, and to establish, in the room of it, their own notions of religion; which, as he obferves, must be various, confused, and contradictory. If they have discovered any fyftem of religion, not known in the world before, and calculated to produce more beneficial effects among mankind than the chriftian, he asks why they do not publish it, and honeftly tell us, what God we muft ferve, what worship we must pay him, and by what motives, fuited to our rational nature, we must be animated in his fervice: as it cannot reafonably be expected that men, not altogether indifferent to matters fo very important, will change their religion, on any other confideration, but for a better?

His first volume is divided into four fections; in the first of which he evinces the authenticity of the gospel-history by the teftimony of heathen writers; and fhews that, beginning at the prefent age, wherein we have fenfible demonftration for the exiftence of christianity, and carrying our enquiries backwards from one age to another, we meet with unquestionable evidence in every age, for the real being of that inftitution, till we arrive at that particular period when it first appeared in the world; fo that as certainly as we know, that in those ages the earth was inhabited, that the inhabitants were divided into fuch particular governments, and that the administration of thofe governments

was

was carried on by fuch particular laws, with equal certainty do we know, that the chriftian religion, without interruption, continually fubfifted in all the intermediate ages that lie between the present time and the reign of Tiberius Cæfar, when Christ was crucified at Jerufalem.

In the second section he confiders Lord Bolingbroke's objections to the authenticity of the gospel-history, and to the testimony of heathen writers adds the teftimony of the fathers of the first century, in confirmation of the truth of it. After this he proceeds, in the third fection, to vindicate the gospelhiftory, from the charge of contradiction and forgery, particularly with refpect to the refurrection of Jefus; a subject, which he confiders at full length, and treats with great clearness and accuracy.

In the fourth fection he endeavours to prove, that a miracle is an event in itself credible, a proper object of human belief, and against the exiftence of which, no argument can be drawn, either from the nature of the fact, or from the common experience of mankind. Here he is naturally led to confider what Mr. Hume has advanced on the fubject of miracles, and, in our opinion, he obviates Mr.Hume's objections in a very diftin&t and satismanner. A miracle, he says, is a fenfible effect, produced either by the immediate power of God, or by the power of some invifible agent, under the direction or permiffion of God, in fufpending or altering any particular law of nature in such a particular inftance, for ends and purposes suited to the nature of the Agent.

The fame evidence, we are told, that is fufficient to convince us of the truth of any common event happening among mankind, is not fufficient to afcertain the truth of a miracle. For, as to thofe events, wherein our fellow-men are the fole actors, and that happen in the common courfe of things, our knowledge of human nature, and our experience of mankind, enable us to judge of the probability or truth of human actions, in such characters and in fuch circumftances. But although our own confcioufnefs, and our experience of the world may serve us directly to apprehend the motives and springs of human actions, and thereby engage us readily to admit fuch particular actions, as real matters of fact, when reported by credible witnelles; yet in relation to the extraordinary works of God, wherein he is pleafed to recede from the common tract of his administration; and in fuch a particular inftance to fufpend the force of a general law, which, in all other inftances, is ftill prevailing, it is impoffible we can all at once clearly difcern, and fafely judge of the motives, worthy the Sovereign Ruler of the univere, that

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