On the Theology of the Sixth Book of Virgil's Eneid. By Dr Beattie *. [Concluded from p. 261.] THE HE two travellers having paf- ver of tempeftuous flame. Sleepless, fed through the melancholy before the gate, day and night, and plains, were now come to a place, full in Eneas's view, fat the fury where one road went off to the left, Tifiphone in bloody attire. From and another to the right; the former within iffued fuch an uproar of terrileading to Tartarus, the latter to E- fying noifes, that the hero, though lyfium. They were going to Elyfium at a diftance, heard it with horror; on a vifit to Anchifes; but be- the cries of the tormented, the found fore they ftruck off to the right, the of the fcourge, the crafh of iron-enpriefte's took this opportunity to def gines, and the clanking of chains dragcribe Tartarus, the gates of which ged along. Tell me, faid he O virgin, were in view, but which Eneas could what clamours, what punishments not enter, as they were never open- are thofe, and for what crimes they ed but for the reception of those wick are inflicted. This gives the priest fs cd fouls, whom the judge Rhadaman- occafion to defcribe what was paffing thus, after making them confefs the in the regions of torment; with which crimes they had committed in the Hecate had made her acquainted, upper world, thought proper to con- when he gave her the fuperintendenin to eternal punishment. When dence of the groves of Avernus. The this dreadful fentence was paffed, perfons there punished had all perpe they were feized on by Tifiphone and trated enormous crimes; among which the other furies, the adamantine gates are reckoned, acts of impiety, want opened with a tremendous found, and of natural affection, cruel treatment the criminals were thrown into an of parents, the defrauding of clients immenfe dungeon, ftretching down- or dependents, and the hoarding up wards twice as far as from hell to of wealth to the injury of friends heaven. and relations. Here too adultery is punished, even though the criminal fhould have already fuffered death for it in the upper world. Other crimes here punished are, rebellion, inceft, the various forts of injuftice and treachery, the venality of lawgivers, fubverfion of the liberties of our country, facrificing the public good to private intereft, and many other forms of wickedness, whereof the Sybil declares it was impoffible for her to give a particular enumeration. The defcription of Tartarus is wrought up in a ftyle of terrible fublimity, fuch as never was equalled by any other poet, except by Milton, in the first and fecond books of Paradife Loft. In the intrinfic grandeur of his images, the English poet may be thought to have excelled the Roman; but in one refpect the Roman has the advantage. By means of a more mufical language, he has been enabled to embellifh his narration with a fonorous magnificence of harmony, whereof the English tongue, even when modulated by Milton, is not fufceptible. The mouth of the Tartarean gulf was encircled with three walls fo ftrong, as to be proof against every affault of men or gods; and thefe walls were furrounded by Phlegethon, a riVOL. XII. No. 71. PP The punishments are various. Of one enormous offender, the intrails are continually devoured by a vulture, and continually growing to be again devoured; an apt emblem to exprefs the pangs of a guilty confcience, and which puts one in mind of the neverdying worm mentioned in Scripture. Some are in the eternal apprehenfion From the Second Vol. of the Edinburgh Phil. Trans. of of being crushed by a black rock, which hangs over them, and feems to be every moment beginning to fall, Some are perpetually employed in rolling a huge mafs of ftone; fome are ftretched out on a whirling wheel; and fome, agonifing with eternal hunger, have a fumptuous banquet fet before them, which they no fooner at tempt to touch, than a gigantic fury ftarts up, brandishing a torch, and denouncing vengeance in a voice of thunder. 1 length (tum demum) the gate open for their reception, into the place torment. It is ftrange that Rueus and Dr Warburton did not fee that this is the obvious import of the words of Virgil; and that, if we do not understand them in this fenfe, the paffage mult appear confufed, if not ungrammatical, In a word; of the infide of Tartarus the Trojan hero faw nothing; he faw the outfide only, the walls, the gates, the tower of iron, &c. and thefe he faw at fome diftance. What was paling within he learns from the Sybil's information. "And now, fays the, let us be going. Yonder, on the right hand, is the palace of Proferpine, where, in the vaulted porch that fronts us, we are commanded to depofit the golden bough." This ceremony Eneas performs, after having fprinkled himfelf with pure water; which was cuftomary with thofe who made offerings There is nothing in Virgil more explicit than the account of Tartarus; and I know not why it has been, fo generally misunderstood. Dr. Warbur ton fays, in one place, that Eneas faw the fights of Tartarus at a diftance, and, in another, that Eneas paffed through Tartarus. In fact, he did neither. He could not rafs through without entering; and this, we are told, was to him impoffible; Nujli fas cafto fceleratum infiftere "limen." And though he had been to the gods. permitted to enter, he could not pafs pafsof through, without firft croting a river of fire, and then defcending into an immenfe gulph, twice as deep beneath the level of the other regions of dark nefs, as thofe are remote from heaven. It was equally impoffible for him to fee from a diftance what was doing in fuch a gulph, even though the gate that led to it had been open, which, however, at this time, happened to be fhut." You fee, faid the Sybil, what a centinel fits without in the porch, (meaning Tiphone;) another, ftill more dreadful, has her fta. tion within," which, as he could not fee it, the informs him is a huge ferpent, or hydra, with fifty heads. An opening of the gare is indeed mentioned, which Rueus understands to have taken place at the very time when the Trojan and the Sybil were looking at it. But that is, a mistake. The Sybil only tells her companion, that, when Rhadamanthus has made the criminals confefs their guilt, then at 1 '' They then went onward to Elyfi um, the gay fcenery of which, imme diately fucceeding the gloom of purgatory and the horrors of Tartarus, is fo charming, that every reader feels himself refreshed by it. Here were groves, and plains, and meadows, clothed with perpetual verdure, the abodes of tranquillity and joy, and illuminated by a fun and itars of the moft refulgent beauty. Here were feafting, and dancing, and mufic,, and poets accompanying their verfes with the barmony of the lyre, Here thofe warlike exercifes were renewed, in which the heroes while on earth had fo much delighted; and here were horfes, and chariots, and atms, and every thing that could gratify an heroic mind. It must be owned, that all this is very inadequate to the defires and the capacity of an immortal foul; but Virgil had heard of nothing better; and it was impof fible for him to defcrit what he could not conceive. In this Elybum, which, with all its imperfection, is, as well as the infernal world, founded on the best ideas of retributive juftice that could be expected from a pagan, the poet places, in a state of endlefs felicity, the shades of the pure and the pious; of heroes who have died in defence of their country; of ingenious men who have employed their talents in adorning human life with elegant arts, or in recommending piety and virtue; and of all who, by acts of beneficence, have merited the love and the gratitude of their fellow-creatures." To a company of thefe happy beings, who had flocked round the two frangers, and efpecially to the poet Mufeus, whom the knew, the Sybil addreffed herfelf, defiring to be informed where Anchifes refided. We have no certain habitations, returned the poet; ; we wander about, and amufe ourselves, wherever we please; but follow me to yonder rifing ground, and I hall put you in a path that will conduct you to him. Some writers blame Virgil for not making Encas find Homer in this part of Elysium; and infinuate, that the Roman poet must have been both invidious and ungrateful, in neglect ing fuch an opportunity of doing honour to his great mafter, to whom he owed fo much. Thofe critics do not confider that Eneas wasdead an hundred years before Homer was born. Our poet has been cenfured for a fuppofed anachronism, in making Encas and Dido contemporary; and here he is found fault with for having judicioufly avoided a real anachronism. It chanced that Anchifes was at this time in a remote valley, reviewing, in their state of pre-exillence, fome of his pofterity, who were after wards to diftinguish themselves in the Roman republic. When he faw his fon advancing towards him, he held forth both his hands, gave him an affectionate welcome, and wept for joy The hero would have embraced his, father; but found that the fhade, though vifible, eluded the touch." After a fhort converfation, Eneas happening to fee,in a grove thro' which a river was flowing, an innumerable multitude of human beings flying about, afked his father who they were, and what river it was. The river, faid he, is Lethe, of which thofe fouls are taking a draught, being about to return to the upper world, in order to animate new bodies. Is it to be imagined, exclaims Eneas, that fouls fhould ever leave this happy place, and go back to the imprisonment of the body, and all the wretch edness of mortality? I will explain the whole matter to you, replies Anchifes. Know, then, that all the parts of this vifible univerfe, the heavens, and earth, and fky, the fun, moon, and stars, are, like one vaft body, animated by an univerfal fpirit, whereof the fouls, or vital principles, of all animals, of men and beafts, of fishes and fowl, are emanations. This vital principle is, in every animal, the fource of fenfation and motion; but, from the influence that the body has over it, becomes fubject to inor. dinate paffions, and forgetful of its heavenly original. The foul of man, in particular, (for nothing further is faid of the other animals) contracts, while fhut up in the dark prifon of the body, a degree of debifement which does not leave it at death, and from which the sufferings of a fubfequent state of purgation are neceffary to purify it. Thefe are of different kinds and degrees, according to the ditrerrent degrees and kinds of guilt or impurity which the foul has contracted. Some fouls are expofed to the beating of winds, fome are washed in water, and fome purified by fire. Every one of us, (fays Anchifes, including himfelf) fuffers his own peculiar pains of purification. Then we are fent into this vaft Elyfium, and a few of us remain in the eternal pofPP 2 feffion of it. The reft continue here, providence. The verfes are- "Re lix qui potuit rerum cognofcere caufa s are" Atque metus omnes, et inexorabile fatum, Subjecit pedibus, ftrepitumque Acherontis avari." tili by the air and tranquillity of the place, they have entirely got the better of the impurity contracted in the world, have had every impreffion of the pains of purgatory worn out, and are reftored to their original fimplicity of nature. Thus refined, they are, at the end of a thousand years, fummoned by a divine agent, or god, to meet in one great affembly, where they drink of Lethe to wash away remembrance, and then, in compliance with their own inclination, are fent back to the earth to animate new bodies. Having ended this account, Anchifes, with his fon and the Sybil, pafles to a rifing ground, and points out, in a state of pre-existence, a proceflion of Roman heroes, who were in due time to defcend from him; briefly defcribing their feveral characters, in a moft fublime ftrain of poetical prophecy. I fhall fubjoin a few remarks on the concluding scene of this noble epifode; on the gates of horn and ivory. Thefe gates have given no little trouble to critics, both ancient and modern; who, after all, feem to have been not very fortunate in their conjectures. This is owing, not to obfcurity in the poet, but to the refinement of thofe interpreters, who miftook a plain paffage for a profound allegory, and were determined to find a fecret meaning in it. The gate of ivory, fay they, tranfmits falfe dreams, and that of horn true ones; and Eneas and his companion are difmited from Elysium, and let into the upper world, through the ivory gare. What can this imply, but that the poet meant to infinuate, that every thing he had faid concerning a ftate of future retribution, was nothing more than a fallacious dream? And, in fupport of this conjecture, they generally quote from the Georgic three verfes, to prove that Virgil was in his heart an Epicurean, and confequently difbelieved both a future ftate and a appear to me, that thefe lines can Now, in the first place, it does not prove their author ever to have been fay more than " an Epicurean, or that he meant to whofe mind philofophy has raised Happy is the man above the fear of death, as well as above all other fears." For, in the Georgic, he not only recommends reans could not do confiftently with religion and prayer, which Epicutheir principles, but again and again afferts a providence; and, in terms equally elegant and juft, vindicates the Divine wifdom in eftablishing physical evil as the means of improving and elevating the mind of man. But does he not, in his fixth eclogue, the world according to the Epicurean give an account of the formation of theory? He does; and he makes it part of the fong of a drunkard: no proof that he held it in very high esteem. miration of Lucretius might have But, 2dly, Suppofing our poet's admade him formerly partial to the tethat he continued fo to the end of nets of Epicurus, it does not follow his life, or that he was fo while employed upon the Eneid. The duties of religion, and the fuperintending care of providence, are by no other Pagan author fo warmly enforced as in this poem; and the energy with which, in the fixth book, and in one paffage of the eighth, (v. 666.) he afferts a future retribution, feems to prove, that he was fo far in earnest with regard to this matter, as to believe that it was not, as the Epicureans affirmed, either abfurd or improbable. place, that no poet ever thought of employ all his skill in adorning his fable, and then tell them, that they ought not to believe a word of it. The true poet's aim is very different. He adapts himself to the opinions that prevail among the people for whom he writes, that they may the more eafily acquiefce in his narrative; or he is careful, at least, to make his fable confiftent with itself, in order to give it as much as poffible the appearance of ferioufnefs and truth. We know, that the scenery of the Sixth book is wholly fictitious; but the Romans did not certainly know how far it might be fo founded as it was on ancient tradition, which no history they had could overturn; and on philofophical opinions, which they had never heard confuted, and which, where Revelation was unknown, might seem respectable, on account of the abilities of Pythagoras, Plato, and other great men who had taught them. To which I may add, 4thly, as an argument decifive of the prefent queftion, That if Virgil wished his Countrymen to believe him to have been not in earnest in what he had told them of a pre-existent and future ftate, he must also have wished them to understand, that the compliments he had been paying to the moft favourite characters among their anceftors were equally infincere ; and that what he had faid of the virtues of Camillus, Brutus, Cato, Scipio, and even Auguftus himfelf, was altogether visionary, and had as good a right to a paffage through the ivory gate, as any other falfehood. Had Octavia understood this to be the poet's meaning, fhe would not have rewarded him, fo liberally for his matchlefs encomium on the younger Marcellus. Had this indeed been his meaning, all the latter part of the fixth book would have been a ftudied infult upon Auguftus, and the other heroes here celebrated, as well as on the whole Roman people. Strange, that the moft judicious writer in the world fhould commit fuch a blunder in the moft elaborate part of a poem which he had confecrated to the honour of his country, and particularly to that of his great patron Auguftus! We must therefore admit, either that Virgil had loft his fenfes, or, which is more probable, that, in fending Eneas and the Sybil through the ivory gate, he intended no farcaftic reflection either on his country or on his poetry. In a word, we muft admit, that, in this part of his fable, he was just as much in car neft as in any other; and that there was no more jake in Eneas's afcent through the gate of ivory, than in his defcent through the cave of Avernus. How then are we to understand this adventure of the gate? I anfwer, By making the poet his own interpreter, and not feeking to find things in his book which we have no good reason to think were ever in his head. In the nineteenth book of the Odyffey, Penelope, fpeaking of dreams, fays to her nurfe, that there are two gates by which they are tranfmitted to us; one made of horn, through which the true dreams pafs, and the other of ivory, which emits falfe dreams. This thought Homer probably derived from fome Egyptian cuftom or tradition, which one might difcufs with many quotations and much appearance of learning; and this, no doubt, gave Virgil the hint of the paffage now before us. But Virgil's account differs from Homer's more than the commentators seem to be aware of. Homer does not say in what part of the world his gates are; Virgil's are in Italy, not far from Cume, and are faid to be the outlet from Elyfium into the upper world; a wild fiction no doubt, but not more wild than that of making the cave of Avernus the inlet from the upper world into the nether. Homer's gates are the gates of dreams; Virgil calls his the gates of fleep. The former |