resolution, and that iffues in a wrong conduct. For I can hardly think it compatible with the conftitution of human nature, to pursue ill as fuch, or to take pleasure in deformity and vice, unless under fome mask of good.'

Theodorus now enters into fome detail, and fhews how the cafe ftands with refpect to pleasure, &c. After which, he proceeds as follows: It appears then, gentlemen, by this detail, that those who are under the influence or dominion of any vice, are deceived by fome falfe fpecies or another, according to which they regulate their character and conduct; and that it must therefore be of the utmost confequence, to expose that false species, by fhewing, that the opinion itfelt is ill founded, or the paffion built upon it faulty, either in excefs or defect; and to paint this paffion in all its appearances and forms fo exactly, that no man, who attends without prejudice to the picture, may mistake his own features. The effect of fuch a delineation will be, that he must take part one way or other, and either approve or condemn himself. For hardly can any human creature behold a just representation of his own character with indifference: therefore, when one difplays to him the images of himself, and prefents him with his own views, fentiments, and paffions, he muft either love or loath the draught. And this affection or averfion must be excited, in proportion to the likeness of the picture, and the attention with which it is furveyed. This, I apprehend, is the first step towards the recovery of a mind enfnared by vice. But it is eafy to fee, that he must not be unacquainted with the human heart, and the various diseases to which it is fubject, and must be no mean artist in moral painting, who can thus make us pafs in review before ourfelves, reflect feriously on our own difpofitions and conduct, and by fo doing, intereft every fenfible, ingenuous, and humane principle about us,'

Theodorus now proceeds to explain how the bufinefs of drawing characters is to be managed, and how that kind of moral painting, which is allowable in preaching, is to be diftinguished from the other kinds of it. He concludes with a few hints relating to the method of digefting, ranging, and fetting off the materials of a difcourfe; and with fhewing, in what manner the whole fhould be delivered, fo as to produce the ftrongest and most lafting effect.

The grand fecret, fays he, lies in following nature in every part, in the method and connexions, the fentiments

and

and language, the voice, the action, and the whole external manner. Be mafter of your subject, and as it were infpired with it; and then light and order will naturally dawn'upon it: every thing will fall into the place which becomes it beft: one part will introduce another, just at the time that the minds of the audience are prepared to receive it; and what follows will fupport and fortify what went before: the more plain and simple truths will pave the way to the more abftrufe and complex ones; and the proofs or illuftrations will ftill rife, one above the other, in a regular and eafy gradation, till the whole force of conviction breaks upon the mind, and now allows you fair scope to play upon every tender and paffionate ftring, that belongs to the heart of man. Then be fure to feel every fentiment yourfelf, and to enter first into every paffion you want to communicate to others: and, unlefs your imagination plays its part very ill, the boldeft figures, the strongest images, and the most moving expreffions will pour in upon you, and animate your whole difcourfe and manner with fuch life and spirit, as cannot fail of winding up the hearer's mind to the utmoft pitch of attention and of paffion. If you are thoroughly touched with the importance and dignity of the great fubjects of religion and virtue, you will not be ambitious of the reputation of fine fpeakers, nor ftudy the little ornaments of a gaudy eloquence, fuch as pretty fimiles, ftrained antithefes, polifhed periods, and the play of wit or words. I am far from difcouraging the clofeft ftudy and application of mind to one's fubject, previous to the appearing in public: but a great deal must be left to the extemporary efforts of nature, when the fpeaker is enlivened with all the animating circumftances which attend public fpeaking. That man who has ranged every thought, meafur'd every sentence, tranfition, and circumftance of his difcourfe, and fettled the whole method of his delivery in his closet, may be indeed an elegant and correct fpeaker, but I will venture to say, he can never be a popular and powerful orator; he will fall into a cold phlegmatic manner of fpeaking; or, if he throw himfelf into a forced heat, it will appear artificial, or elfe evaporate in a tedious infipid fameness of voice and action: either of which are the dead weights of genuine eloquence. Whereas, if the fpeaker be thoroughly enlightened and warmed with his fubje&t, and feels himself the paffion he means to inspire, nature, in that cafe, will fuggeft the most becoming ornaments and figni ficant phrafes; will vary the tone of the voice, according

to

to the rises and falls, and different turns of the paffion; and, in fine, will animate with the moft expreffive air, look, and action, according to the feveral feelings and movements of the mind. For nature and passion are more able prompters than the most eminent mafters of elocution. -Such a speaker, with all his repetitions, breaks, inaccuracies, and chafms in difcourfe, will force his way, thro' all oppofition, into the bowels and foul of the hearer, and will kindle and fet on fire his whole frame; while your fmooth and studied declaimer will fend him away as cool and unmoved as he found him.'

The amiable Theodorus clofes the dialogue with recommending, as the best model of eloquence, the DIVINE TEACHER AND SAVIOUR of mankind, who spoke as never man spake. Happy the preacher, who copies after fo noble an example! Happy the people, who are committed to his charge!

ART. XLVIII, Remarks on ecclefiaftical history. Vol. II. 8vo. 5s. C. Davis, &c. See the 1ft volume, Review, vol.4.

HE learned and candid mr. Fortin's principal defign

in this performance is, to recommend and defend christianity: his remarks being intended, in fome measure, as a supplement to his excellent difcourfes on the christian religion. As far as he has touched upon fome lately controverted questions concerning the post-apoftolical miracles, he has fhewn great candour and moderation, as well as learning; he has steer'd a kind of middle course between the contending parties, admitting indeed but few of the miracles that are said to have been wrought, but not abfolutely rejecting them all.

He introduces this his fecond volume of remarks, with giving the fum and substance of those arguments which are ufually urged in defence of the miracles recorded in the new teftament; and then proceeds to obferve, that our Saviour's miracles were prophecies at the fame time; that they were fuch miracles as in a particular manner suited his character, fignificant emblems of his defigns, and figures aptly representing the benefits to be conferred by him upon mankind. So much, fays he, may be urged in behalf of this interpretation of them, as fhall probably fecure it from being ranked amongst thofe fanciful expofitions which are generally flighted by wife men: for many cabbalistic notions have made their appearance in this, as well as in other centuries and countries, which are

even

even beneath cenfure or mention, and neither fit for the land, nor yet for the dung-hill.

"Our Saviour's miracles were then of a beneficent nature, and fuch as might be expected from one who came to be an univerfal bleffing. He caft out evil fpirits, who, by the divine providence, were permitted to exert themfelves at that time, and to poffefs many perfons. By this he fhewed, that he came to deftroy the empire of Satan, and feemed to foretel, that, wherefoever his doctrine fhould prevail, idolatry and vice should be put to flight.

He forefaw, that the great and popular objection to him would be, that he was a magician, and therefore he confuted it before-hand, and ejected evil fpirits, to fhew that he was in no confederacy with them.

The miracle which he firft wrought, and which on that account was remarkable, was his turning water into wine, at a marriage-feaft. There arofe in the church, from antient times, fects of heretics, who condemned wine, and the use of animal food, and marriage, and not only heretics, but the orthodox alfo ran into extravagant notions of the fame kind, crying up celibacy and a folitary life beyond meafure, together with rigid and uncommanded aufterities and macerations of the body. Chrift therefore, as we may conjecture, was prefent at this feaft, and honoured it with this miracle, that it fhould ftand in the gofpel as a confutation of these foolish errors, and a warning to those who had ears to hear, not to be deluded by fuch fanatics. St. John, who records this miracle, lived to see these falfe doctrines adopted and propagated.

'He gave fight to the blind, a miracle well fuiting him who brought immortality to light, and taught truth to an ignorant world. He cured the deaf, and the dumb, and the lame, and the infirm, and cleanfed the lepers, and healed all manner of fickneffes, to fhew, at the fame time, that he was the phyfician of fouls, which have their difeafes correfponding in fome manner to thofe of the body, and are deaf, and dumb, and impotent, and paralytic, and leprous in the spiritual sense.—He fed the hungry multitudes by a miracle, which aptly represented his heavenly doctrine, and the gospel preached to the poor. The figtree, which, with all its fair appearance, was deftitute of fruit, and died away at his rebuke, was plainly a figure of, the pharifaical religion, which was only out-fide fhew; and of the rejection and fall of the Jewish nation.-At his direction the difciples twice caft the net, and had an afto

nishing

nifhing draught of fishes, when without him they had long toiled in vain and caught nothing; an image of the success they should have when they became fishers of men, as he himself explained it. His rebuking the winds and waves into filence and peace may be confidered as an emblem of his fpiritual victories over the mad rage of Jews and Gentiles; and his walking upon the sea seems to have been a prelude of the amazing progrefs of his gospel, which croffed the wide ocean, and reached the remoteft lands.

'He cured fome perfons at a diftance, without vifiting and feeing them, to fhew, that he should convert and fave by his facred word those who should not fee and converse with him here on earth. The darkness which was spread over the land, fhewed the fpiritual blindness of the Jews which continued when the gofpel fhone in the Gentile world, and was an omen of their deftruction. The veil of the temple, which was rent in twain from the top to the bottom, portended the abolition of the ceremonial law, and of the feparation between Jerus and Gentiles, and an entrance for believers by the death of Christ into the holy of holies.-The earthquakes at the death and refurrection of Chrift fhewed the great revolutions which fhould come to pafs in the establishment of the gospel, and in the fall of Judaifm and Pàganifm; for, in the facred writing, great changes in the political world are foretold and denoted by earthquakes, by shaking heaven and earth, and fea, and dry land.'

Our author obferves, that, if Chrift never wrought a miracle, and his difciples, mean and illiterate perfons, feigned all these things, they were extremely ingenious to fix upon miracles, which fo exactly fuited the character that he affumed, and amazingly fortunate to invent miracles which fo aptly prefigured events that came to light in latter times. After this he proceeds to fum up the main evidences of the truth of our religion, as follows.

1. Chrift was foretold by the prophets. Of the things predicted concerning him, fome were miraculous, fome improbable, fome feemingly irreconcileable, and all of them beyond the reach of human conjecture; and yet in him they all centered, and were united, and reconciled. To this must be added, the amazing harmony, analogy, and correfpondence between the old and new teftament, not only in the direct prophecies, but in the types, rites, ceremonies, and events contained in the former, and fulfilled in a fublimer fenfe in the latter, which, upon the whole, could