THE Allegorical Interpretation which the Biſhop of Gloceſter has given of the Sixth Book of the Aeneid, ſeems to have been very favourably received by the Public. Many writers, both at home and abroad, have mentioned it with approbation, or at leaſt with eſteem; and I have more than once heard it alledged, in the converſation of ſcholars, as an ingenious improvement on the plain and obvious ſenſe of Virgil. As ſuch, it is not undeſerving of the notice of a candid critic; nor can the enquiry be void of enter⯑tainment, whilſt Virgil is our conſtant theme. [2] Whatever may be the fortune of the chace, we are ſure it will lead us through pleaſant proſpects and a fine country.

That I may eſcape the imputation as well as the danger of miſrepreſenting his Lordſhip's Hypotheſis, I ſhall expoſe it in his own words. ‘The purpoſe of this Diſcourſe is to ſhew that Aeneas's adventure to the INFERNAL SHADES, is no other than a figurative deſcription of his INITIATION INTO THE MYSTERIES; and particularly a very exact one of the SPECTA⯑CLES of the ELEUSINIAN¹.’ This gene⯑ral notion is ſupported with ſingular ingenuity, dreſſed up with an eaſy yet pompous diſplay of Learning, and delivered in a ſtyle much fitter for the Hierophant of Eleuſis, than for a Mo⯑dern Critic, who is obſerving a remote object through the medium of a glimmering and doubtful light: ‘Ibant obſcuri, ſolâ ſub nocte, per umbram.’

His Lordſhip naturally enough purſues two different methods which unite, as he apprehends, in the ſame concluſion. From general prin⯑ciples peculiar to himſelf, he infers the pro⯑priety [3] and even neceſſity of ſuch a Deſcription of the Myſteries; and from a compariſon of particular circumſtances he labours to prove that Virgil has actually introduced it into the Aeneid. Each of theſe methods ſhall be conſi⯑dered ſeparately.

As the learned Prelate's Opinions branch themſelves out into luxuriant Syſtems, it is not eaſy to reſume them in a few words. I ſhall, however, attempt to give a ſhort idea of thoſe general principles, which occupy, I know not how, ſo great a ſhare of the Divine Legation of Moſes demonſtrated.

‘The whole Syſtem of Paganiſm, of which the Myſteries were an eſſential part, was inſtituted by the Antient Lawgivers for the ſupport and benefit of Society. The my⯑ſteries themſelves were a School of Morality and Religion, in which the vanity of Po⯑lytheiſm², and the Unity of the Firſt Cauſe, were revealed to the Initiated. Virgil, who intended his immortal Poem for a Re⯑public in action, as thoſe of Plato and [4] Tully were in precept, could not avoid diſ⯑playing this firſt and nobleſt art of Govern⯑ment. His perfect Law-giver muſt be initiated, as the antient Founders of States had been before him; and as Auguſtus him⯑ſelf was many ages afterwards.’

What a crowd of natural reflections muſt occur to an unblaſſed mind! Was the civil ma⯑giſtrate the mover of the whole machine; the ſole contriver, or at leaſt the ſole ſupport of Religion? Were antient laws ALWAYS deſigned for the benefit of the people, and NEVER for the private intereſt of the Lawgiver? Could the firſt fathers of rude ſocieties inſtruct their new⯑made ſubjects in philoſophy as well as in agri⯑culture? Did they all agree, in Britain as in Egypt, in Perſia as in Greece, to found theſe ſecret ſchools on the ſame common principle; which ſubſiſted near eighteen hundred years at Eleuſis ³ in its primaeval purity? Can theſe things be? Yes, replies the learned prelate; they are: ‘Egypt was the myſterious mother of Religion and Policy; and the arts of Egypt were diffuſed with her colonies over the antient World. Inachus carried the My⯑ſteries [5] into Greece, Zoroaſter into Perſia⁴ &c. &c.’—I retire from ſo wide a field, in which it would be eaſy for me to loſe both myſelf and my adverſary. THE ANTIENT WORLD, EIGHTEEN CENTURIES, and FOUR HUN⯑DRED AUTHORS GENUINE AND APOCRYPHAL⁵ [6] would, under tolerable management, furniſh ſome volumes of controverſy; and ſince I have peruſed the two thouſand and fourteen pages of the unfiniſhed Legation, I have leſs inclina⯑tion than ever to ſpin out volumes of laborious trifles.

I ſhall, however, venture to point out a fact, not very agreeable to the favourite notion, that Paganiſm was entirely the Religion of the ma⯑giſtrate. The Oracles were not leſs antient, nor leſs venerable than the Myſteries. Every diffi⯑culty, religious or civil, was ſubmitted to the deciſion of thoſe infallible tribunals. During ſeveral ages no war could be undertaken, no colony founded, without the ſanction of the Delphic Oracle; the firſt and moſt celebrated amongſt ſeveral hundred others⁶. Here then we might expect to perceive the directing hand of the magiſtrate. Yet when we ſtudy their hiſtory with attention, inſtead of the Alli⯑ance between Church and State, we can only diſcover the antient Alliance between the [7] Avarice of the Prieſt and the Credulity of the People.

For my own part, I am very apt to conſi⯑der the Myſteries in the ſame light as the Oracles. An intimate connection ſubſiſted be⯑tween them⁷: Both were preceded and ac⯑companied with faſts, ſacrifices, and luſtra⯑tions; with myſtic ſights and preternatural ſounds: But the moſt eſſential preparation for the ASPIRANT, was a general confeſſion of his paſt life, which was exacted of him by the Prieſt. In return for this implicit confidence, the Hiero⯑phant conferred on the Initiated a ſacred cha⯑racter; and promiſed them a peculiar place of happineſs in the Elyſian fields, whilſt the ſouls of the Profane (however virtuous they had been) were wallowing in the mire⁸. Nor did the Prieſts of the Myſteries neglect to re⯑commend to the brethren a ſpirit of friendſhip, and the love of virtue; ſo pleaſing even to the moſt corrupt minds, and ſo requiſite to render any ſociety reſpectable in its own eyes. Of all [8] theſe religious ſocieties, that of Eleuſis was the moſt illuſtrious. From being peculiar to the inhabitants of Attica, it became at laſt common to the whole Pagan world. Indeed, I ſhould ſuſpect that it was much indebted to the genius of the Athenian writers, who beſtowed fame and dignity on whatever had the leaſt connection with their country; nor am I ſurpriſed that Cicero and Atticus, who were both initiated, ſhould expreſs themſelves with enthuſiaſm, when they ſpeak of the ſacred rites of their beloved Athens.

But our curioſity is yet unſatisfied; we would preſs forwards into the ſanctuary; and are eager to learn, WHAT was the SECRET which was reveal⯑ed to the Initiated, and to them alone. Many of the Profane, poſſeſſed of leiſure and ingenuity, haved tried to gueſs, what has been ſo religiouſly concealed. The SECRET of each is curious and philoſophical; for as ſoon as we attempt this Enquiry, the honour of the Myſteries becomes our own⁹. I too could frame an hypotheſis, [9] as plauſible perhaps, and as uncertain as any of theirs, did I not feel myſelf checked by the apprehenſion of diſcovering what never exiſt⯑ed¹⁰. I admire the diſcretion of the Initi⯑ated; but the beſt ſecurity for diſcretion is, the vanity of concealing that we have nothing to reveal.

The examples of great men, when they cannot ſerve as models, may ſerve as warnings to us. I ſhould be very ſorry to have diſcovered, that an ATHEISTICAL HISTORY¹ was uſed in [10] the celebration of the Myſteries, to prove the Unity of the Firſt Cauſe, and that an ANTIENT HYMN² was ſung, for the edification of the devout Athenians, which was moſt probably A MODERN FORGERY of ſome Jewiſh or Chriſtian Impoſtor. Had I delivered THESE TWO DIS⯑COVERIES, with an air of Confidence and Tri⯑umph, I ſhould be ſtill more mortified.

After all, as I am not apt to give the name of Demonſtration to what is mere conjecture, his Lordſhip may take advantage of my Scep⯑ticiſm, and ſtill affirm, that his favourite Myſte⯑ries were Schools of Theiſm, inſtituted by the Lawgiver. Yet unleſs Aeneas is the Lawgiver of Virgil's Republic, he has no more buſineſs with the Myſteries of Athens, than with the laws of Sparta. We will, therefore, reflect a mo⯑ment on the true nature and plan of the Aeneid.

An Epic Fable muſt be important as well as intereſting: Great actions, great virtues, and [11] great diſtreſſes, are the peculiar province of Heroic Poetry. This rule ſeems to have been dictated by nature and experience, and is very different from thoſe chains in which Genius has been bound by artificial Criticiſm. The im⯑portance I ſpeak of, is not indeed always de⯑pendant on the rank or names of the Perſonages. Columbus, exploring a new world with three ſloops and ninety ſailors, is a Hero worthy of the Epic Muſe; yet our imagination would be much more ſtrongly affected by the image of a virtuous Prince ſaved from the ruins of his country, and conducting his faithful followers through unknown ſeas and through hoſtile lands. Such is the Hero of the Aeneid. But his pecu⯑liar ſituation ſuggeſted other beauties to the Poet, who had an opportunity of adorning his ſubject with whatever was moſt pleaſing in Gre⯑cian fable, or moſt illuſtrious in Roman hiſ⯑tory. Aeneas had fought under the walls of Ilium; and conducted to the Banks of the Tyber a Colony from which Rome claimed her origin.

The character of the Hero is expreſſed by one of his friends in a few words; and, tho' drawn by a friend, does not ſeem to be flattered:

[12] Theſe three virtues, of JUSTICE, of PIETY, and of VALOR, are finely ſupported throughout the Poem⁴.

1. I ſhall here mention one inſtance of the Hero's juſtice, which has been leſs noticed than its ſingularity ſeems to deſerve.

After Evander had entertained his Gueſts, with a ſublime ſimplicity, he lamented, that his age and want of power made him a very uſeleſs Ally. However, he points out auxiliaries and a cauſe worthy of a Hero. The Etruſcans, tired out with the repeated tyrannies of Mezentius, had driven that monarch from his throne, and reduced him to implore the protection of Tur⯑nus. Unſatisfied with freedom, the Etruſcans called loudly for revenge; and, in the Poet's opinion, revenge was juſtice.

Aeneas, with the approbation of Gods and men, accepts the command of theſe brave rebels, and [13] puniſhes the Tyrant with the death he ſo well deſerved. The conduct of Aeneas and the Etruſcans may, in point of juſtice, ſeem doubt⯑ful to many; the ſentiments of the Poet cannot appear equivocal to any one. Milton himſelf, I mean the Milton of the Commonwealth, could not have aſſerted with more energy the daring pretenſions of the people, to puniſh as well as to reſiſt a Tyrant. Such opinions, publiſhed by a writer, whom we are taught to conſider as the creature of Auguſtus, have a right to ſurprize us; yet they are ſtrongly expreſſive of the tem⯑per of the times; the Republic was ſubverted, but the minds of the Romans were ſtill Re⯑publican.

2. Aeneas's piety has been more generally confeſſed than admired. St. Evremond laughs at it, as unſuitable to his own temper. The Biſhop of Glouceſter defends it, as agreeable to his own Syſtem of the Lawgiver's Religion. The French wit was too ſuperficial, the Engliſh ſcholar too profound, to attend to the plain nar⯑ration of the Poet, and the peculiar circum⯑ſtances of antient Heroes. WE believe from faith and reaſon: THEY believed from the re⯑port of their ſenſes. Aeneas had ſeen the Gre⯑cian Divinities overturning the foundations of fated Troy. He was perſonally acquainted with his mother Venus, and with his perſecutor Juno. Mercury, who commanded him to leave Car⯑thage, [14] was as preſent to his eyes as Dido, who ſtrove to detain him. Such a knowledge of Religion, founded on ſenſe and experience, muſt inſinuate itſelf into every inſtant of our lives, and determine every action. All this is, in⯑deed, fiction; but it is fiction in which we chuſe to acquieſce, and which we juſtly conſider as the charm of Poetry. If we allow, that Aeneas lived in an intimate commerce with ſuperior Be⯑ings, we muſt likewiſe allow, his love or his fear, his confidence or his gratitude, towards thoſe Beings, to diſplay themſelves on every proper occaſion. Far from thinking Aeneas too pious, I am ſometimes ſurprized at his want of faith. Forgetful of the Fates, which had ſo often and ſo clearly pointed out the de⯑ſtined ſhores of Latium, he deliberates, whether he ſhall not ſit down quietly in the fields of Si⯑cily. An apparition of his father is neceſſary to divert him from this impious and ungene⯑rous deſign.

3. A Hero's valor will not bear the rude breath of ſuſpicion; yet has the courage of Aeneas ſuffered from an unguarded expreſſion of the Poet:

On every other occaſion, the Trojan chief is [15] daring without raſhneſs, and prudent without timidity. In that dreadful night, when Troy was delivered up to her hoſtile Gods, he per⯑formed every duty of a Soldier, a Patriot, and a Son.

To quote other proofs of the ſame nature, would be to copy the ſix laſt books of the Aeneid. I cannot, however, forbear mentioning the calm and ſuperior intrepidity of the Hero, when, after the perfidy of the Rutuli, and his wound, he ruſhed again to the field, and reſtored Vic⯑tory by his preſence alone.

At length, indignant that his victim has eſcap⯑ed him, his contempt gives way to fury:

[16] The Heroic character of Aeneas has been un⯑derſtood and admired by every attentive reader. But to diſcover the LAWGIVER in Aeneas, and A SYSTEM OF POLITICS in the Aeneid, required the CRITICAL TELESCOPE ¹ of the great W [...]n. The naked eye of common ſenſe cannot reach ſo far. I revolve in my memory the harmonious ſenſe of Virgil: Virgil ſeems as ignorant as myſelf of his political character. I return to the leſs pleaſing pages of the Lega⯑tion: So far from condeſcending to proofs, the Author of the Legation is even ſparing of con⯑jectures.

‘Many political inſtructions may be drawn from the Aeneid.’ And from what book which treats of MAN, and the adventures of human life, may they not be drawn? His Lordſhip's Chymiſtry (did his Hypotheſis re⯑quire [17] it) would extract a SYSTEM OF POLICY from the ARABIAN NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENTS.

‘A Syſtem of Policy delivered in the exam⯑ple of a great prince, muſt ſhew him in every public occurrence of life. Hence, Aeneas was of neceſſity to be found voyaging, with Ulyſſes, and fighting, with Achilles².’

There is another public occurrence, at leaſt as much in the character of a LAWGIVER, as either voyaging or fighting; I mean, GIVING LAWS. Except in a ſingle line³, Aeneas never appears in that occupation. In Sicily, he compliments Aceſtes with the honour of giving laws to the colony, which he himſelf had founded.

In the ſolemn treaty, which is to fix the fate of his poſterity, he diſclaims any deſign of inno⯑vating the laws of Latium. On the contrary, he only demands a hoſpitable ſeat for his Gods and his Trojans; and profeſſes to leave the whole authority to king Latinus.

‘But after all, is not the fable of the Aeneid the eſtabliſhment of an empire?’ Yes, in one ſenſe, I grant it is. Aeneas had many ex⯑ternal difficulties to ſtruggle with. When the Latins were defeated, Turnus ſlain, and Juno appeaſed, theſe difficulties were removed. The Hero's labor was over, the Lawgiver's com⯑menced from that moment; and, as if Virgil had a deſign againſt the Biſhop's Syſtem, at that very moment the Aeneid ends. Virgil, who corrected with judgment, and felt with enthu⯑ſiaſm, thought perhaps, that the ſober arts of peace could never intereſt a reader, whoſe mind had been ſo long agitated with ſcenes of diſ⯑treſs and ſlaughter. He might perhaps ſay, like the Sylla of Monteſquieu, ‘J'aime à rem⯑porter des victoires, à fonder ou détruire des états, à faire des ligues, à punir un uſurpateur; mais, pour ces minces détails de governe⯑ment, où les Génies médiocres ont tant d'a⯑vantages, cette lente exécution des loix, cette diſcipline d'une milice tranquille, mon ame ne ſçauroit s'en occuper⁶.’

[19] Had Virgil deſigned to compoſe a POLITICAL INSTITUTE, the Example of Fenelon, his elegant Imitator, may give us ſome notion of the man⯑ner in which he would have proceeded. The preceptor of the Duke of Burgundy profeſſedly deſigned to educate a prince for the happineſs of the people. Every incident in his pleaſing Ro⯑mance is ſubſervient to that great end. The Goddeſs of Wiſdom, in a human ſhape, con⯑ducts her pupil thro' a varied ſeries of inſtructive adventures; and every adventure is a leſſon or a warning for Telemachus. The pride of Seſoſtris, the tyranny of Pygmalion, the perfidy of Adraſ⯑tus, and the imprudence of Idomeneus, are diſ⯑played in their true light. The innocence of the inhabitants of Boetica, the commerce of Tyre, and the wiſe laws of Crete and Salentum, in⯑ſtructed the prince of the various means by which a people may be made happy. From the Tele⯑machus of Fenelon, I could paſs with pleaſure to the Cyropoedia of Xenophon. But I ſhould be led too far from my ſubject, were I to attempt to lay open the true nature and deſign of that philoſophical hiſtory. We muſt return from Fe⯑nelon and Xenophon to the Biſhop of Gloceſter.

His Lordſhip props the legiſlative character of Aeneas with an additional ſupport: ‘Auguſtus, who was ſhadowed in the perſon of Aeneas, was initiated into the Eleuſinian Myſteries⁷. [20] Ergo, &c.’ This doctrine of types and ſha⯑dows, though true in general, has on this, as well as on graver occaſions, produced a great abuſe of reaſon, or at leaſt of reaſoning. To confine myſelf to Virgil, I ſhall only ſay, that he was too judicious to compliment the Emperor, at the expence of good ſenſe and probability. Every age has its manners; and the poet muſt ſuit his Hero to the Age, and not the Age to his Hero. It is eaſy to give inſtances of this truth. Marc Antony, when defeated and beſieged in Alexandria, challenged his competitor to decide their quarrel by a ſingle combat. This was re⯑jected by Auguſtus with contempt and deriſion, as the laſt effort of a deſperate man⁸; and the world applauded the prudence of Auguſtus, who preferred the part of a General to that of a Gla⯑diator. The temper and good ſenſe of Virgil muſt have made him view things in the ſame light; yet, when Virgil introduces Aeneas in ſimilar circumſtances, he gives him a quite dif⯑ferent conduct. The Hero wiſhes to ſpare the innocent people, provokes Turnus to a ſingle combat, and, even after the perfidy and laſt de⯑feat of the Rutuli, is ſtill ready to riſk his per⯑ſon and victory, againſt the unhappy life and deſperate fortunes of his Rival. The laws of Honor are different in different Ages; and a be⯑haviour [21] which in Auguſtus was decent, would have covered Aeneas with infamy.

We may apply this obſervation to the very caſe of the Eleuſinian Myſteries. Auguſtus was initiated into them, at a time when Eleuſis was become the COMMON TEMPLE OF THE UNI⯑VERSE. The Trojan Hero could not with the ſmalleſt propriety ſet him that example; as the Trojan Hero lived in an age when thoſe rites were confined to the natives of Greece, and even of Attica⁹.

I have now wandered through the ſcientific maze in which the Biſhop of Glouceſter has concealed his firſt and general argument. It appears (when reſumed) to amount to this irre⯑fragable demonſtration, ‘THAT IF THE MYSTE⯑RIES WERE INSTITUTED BY LEGISLATORS (which they probably were not) AENEAS (who was no Legiſlator) MUST OF COURSE BE INI⯑TIATED INTO THEM BY THE POET.’

And here I ſhall mention a collateral reaſon aſſigned by his Lordſhip, which might engage Virgil to introduce a deſcription of the Myſte⯑ries: the PRACTICE OF OTHER POETS. This proof is ſo exceedingly brittle, that I fear to handle it; and ſhall report it faithfully in the words of our ingenious Critic¹⁰.

[22] ‘Had the old Poem under the name of Or⯑pheus been now extant, it would perhaps have ſhewn us, that no more was meant than Or⯑pheus's Initiation; and that the hint of this Sixth Book was taken from thence.’

As nothing now remains of that old Poem, except the title, it is not altogether ſo eaſy to gueſs what it would or would not have ſhewn us.

‘But farther, it was cuſtomary for the poets of the Auguſtan age to exerciſe themſelves on the ſubject of the Myſteries, as appears from Cicero, who deſires Atticus, then at Athens, and initiated, to ſend to Chilius, a poet of eminence, an account of the Eleuſinian My⯑ſteries; in order, as it would ſeem, to inſert them into ſome poem he was then writing.’

The Eleuſinian Myſteries are not mentioned in the original Paſſage. Cicero uſing the obſcure brevity of familiar Letters, deſires that Atticus would ſend their friend Chilius, ΕΥΜΟΛΠΙΔΩΝ ΠΑΤΡΙΑ¹, which may ſignify twenty different things, relative either to the worſhip of Ceres in particular, or to the Athenian Inſtitutions in ge⯑neral; but which can hardly be applied to the Eleuſinian Myſteries².

[23] ‘Thus it appears that both the antient and modern poets afforded Virgil a pattern for this famous epiſode.’

How does this appear? From an old Poem, of whoſe contents the Critic is totally ignorant, and from an obſcure paſſage, the meaning of which he has moſt probably miſtaken.

Inſtead of conjecturing what Virgil might or ought to do, it would ſeem far more natural to examine what he has done. The Biſhop of Glou⯑ceſter attempts to prove, that the Deſcent to Hell is properly an Initiation; ſince the Sixth Book of the Aeneid really contains the ſecret Doctrine as well as the Ceremonies of the Eleuſinian Myſteries.

What was this SECRET DOCTRINE? As I pro⯑feſs my ignorance, we muſt conſult the Oracle. ‘The ſecret Doctrine of the Myſteries revealed to the Initiated, that JUPITER ... AND THE WHOLE RABBLE OF LICENTIOUS DEITIES, [24] WERE ONLY DEAD MORTALS³.’ Is any thing like this laid open in the Sixth Book of Virgil? Not the remoteſt hint of it can be diſ⯑covered throughout the whole Book; and thus, to uſe his Lordſhip's own words, SOMETHING (I had almoſt written EVERY THING) is ſtill wanting "to complete the IDENTIFICATION⁴.

Notwithſtanding this diſappointment, which is cautiouſly concealed from the reader, the learned Biſhop ſtill courſes round the Elyſian Fields in queſt of a Secret. Once he is ſo lucky as to find Aeneas talking with the Poet Muſaeus, whom tradition has reckoned among the founders of the Eleuſinian Myſteries. The Critic liſtens to their converſation; but, alas! Aeneas is only enquiring, in what part of the garden he may find his Father's ſhade; to which Muſaeus returns a very polite anſwer. Anchiſes himſelf is our laſt hope. As that venerable ſhade explains to his ſon ſome myſterious doctrines, concerning the Uni⯑verſal Mind and the Tranſmigration of Souls, his Lordſhip is pleaſed to aſſure us, that theſe are THE HIDDEN DOCTRINES OF PERFECTION re⯑vealed only to the Initiated. Let us for a mo⯑ment lay aſide Hypotheſis, and read Virgil.

It is obſervable, that the three great Poets of Rome were all addicted to the Epicurean philo⯑ſophy; a Syſtem, however, the leaſt ſuited to a Poet; ſince it baniſhes all the genial and active [25] Powers of Nature, to ſubſtitute in their room a dreary void, blind atoms, and indolent Gods. A Deſcription of the Infernal Shades was incompa⯑tible with the ideas of a Philoſopher, whoſe diſ⯑ciples boaſted, that he had reſcued the captive World from the Tyranny of Religion, and the Fear of a Future State. Theſe ideas, Virgil was obliged to reject: But he does ſtill more; he abandons not only the CHANCE of Epicurus, but even theſe Gods, whom he ſo nobly employs in the reſt of his Poem, that he may offer to the Reader's imagination a far more ſpecious and ſplendid ſett of Ideas.

The more we examine theſe lines, the more we ſhall feel the ſublime Poetry of them. But they have likewiſe an air of Philoſophy and even of Religion, which goes off on a nearer approach. The mind which is INFUSED⁶ into the ſeveral parts of Matter, and which MINGLES ITSELF with the mighty maſs, ſcarce retains any Property of a Spiritual Subſtance; and bears too near an [26] affinity to the Principles, which the impious Spi⯑noza revived rather than invented.

I am not inſenſible, that we ſhould be ſlow to ſuſpect, and ſtill ſlower to condemn. The po⯑verty of human language, and the obſcurity of human ideas, makes it difficult to ſpeak worthily of THE GREAT FIRST CAUSE. Our moſt reli⯑gious Poets, in ſtriving to expreſs the preſence and energy of the Deity, in every part of the Uni⯑verſe, deviate unwarily into images, which are ſcarcely diſtinguiſhed from Materialiſm. Thus our Ethic Poet:

and ſeveral paſſages of Thomſon require a like favourable conſtruction. But theſe writers de⯑ſerve that favour, by the ſublime manner in which they celebrate the great Father of the Univerſe, and by thoſe effuſions of love and gratitude, which are inconſiſtent with the Materialiſt's Sy⯑ſtem. Virgil has no ſuch claim to our indul⯑gence. THE MIND of the UNIVERSE is rather a Metaphyſical than a Theological Being. His intellectual qualities are faintly diſtinguiſhed from the Powers of Matter, and his moral At⯑tributes, the ſource of all religious worſhip, form no part of Virgil's creed.

[27] Yet is this creed approved⁸ by our Ortho⯑dox Prelate, as free from any mixture of Spino⯑ziſm. I congratulate his Lordſhip, on his in⯑dulgent and moderate temper. His Brethren (I mean thoſe of former times) had much ſharper eyes for ſpying out a latent Hereſy. Yet I can⯑not eaſily perſuade myſelf, that Virgil's notions were ever the creed of a religious Society, like that of the Myſteries. Luckily, indeed, I have no occaſion to perſuade myſelf of it; unleſs I ſhould prefer his Lordſhip's mere authority to the voice of Antiquity, which aſſures me, that this Syſtem was either invented or imported into Greece by Pythagoras; from the writings of whoſe diſciples Virgil might ſo very naturally borrow it.

Anchiſes then proceeds to inform his ſon, that the ſouls both of men and of animals were of celeſtial origin, and (as I underſtand him) parts of the Univerſal Mind; but that by their union with earthly bodies they contracted ſuch impuri⯑ties as even Death could not purge away. Many expiations, continues the venerable ſhade, are re⯑quiſite, before the ſoul, reſtored to its original Simplicity, is capable of a place in Elyſium. The far greater part are obliged to reviſit the upper world, in other characters and in other bodies; and thus by gradual ſteps to reaſcend towards their firſt perfection.

[28] This moral Tranſmigration was undoubtedly taught in the Myſteries. As the Biſhop aſſerts this from the beſt authority, we are ſurprized at a ſort of diffidence, unuſual to his Lordſhip, when he advances things from his own intuitive knowledge. In one place, this Tranſmigration is part of the hidden Doctrine of Perfection⁹; in another, it is one of thoſe principles, which were promiſcuouſly communicated to all¹⁰. The truth ſeems to be, that his Lordſhip was afraid to rank among the ſecrets of the Myſte⯑ries, what was profeſſed and believed by ſo many Nations and Philoſophers. The pre-exiſtence of the human ſoul is a very natural idea; and from that idea ſpeculations and fables of its ſucceſſive revolution through various bodies will ariſe. From Japan to Egypt, the Tranſmigration has been part of the popular and religious creed¹. Pythagoras² and Plato³ have endeavoured to demonſtrate the truth of it, by facts, as well as by arguments.

Of all theſe viſions (which ſhould have been confined to the Poets) none is more pleaſing and ſublime, than that which Virgil has invented. Aeneas ſees before him his poſterity, the Heroes of antient Rome; a long ſeries of airy forms [29] ‘Demanding life, impatient for the ſkies,’ and prepared to aſſume, with their new bodies, the little paſſions and tranſient glories of their deſtined lives.

Having ⁴ thus revealed the ſecret Doctrine of the Myſteries, the learned Prelate examines the Ceremonies. With the aſſiſtance of Meur⯑ſius⁵, he pours out a torrent of Erudition to convince us, that the ſcenes thro' which Aeneas paſſed in his deſcent to the Shades, were the ſame as were repreſented to the Aſpirants in the Celebration of the Eleuſinian Myſteries. From thence, his Lordſhip draws his great concluſion, That the Deſcent is no more than an emblem of the Hero's Initiation.

A ſtaunch Polemic will feed a diſpute, by dwelling on every acceſſary circumſtance, whilſt a candid Critic will confine himſelf to the more eſſential points of it. I ſhall, therefore, readily allow, what I believe may in general be true, that the Myſteries exhibited a theatrical repre⯑ſentation of all that was believed or imagined of the lower world; that the Aſpirant was con⯑ducted through the mimic ſcenes of Erebus, Tar⯑tarus, and Elyſium; and that a warm Enthu⯑ſiaſt, in deſcribing theſe awful Spectacles, might expreſs himſelf as if he had actually viſited the [30] infernal Regions⁶. All this I can allow, and yet allow nothing to the Biſhop of Glouceſter's Hypotheſis. It is not ſurpriſing that the COPY was like the ORIGINAL; but it ſtill remains un⯑determined, WHETHER VIRGIL INTENDED TO DESCRIBE THE ORIGINAL OR THE COPY.

Lear and Garrick, when on the ſtage, are the ſame; nor is it poſſible to diſtinguiſh the Player from the Monarch. In the Green-room, or after the repreſentation, we eaſily perceive, what the warmth of fancy and the juſtneſs of imitation had concealed from us. In the ſame manner it is from extrinſical circumſtances, that we may expect the diſcovery of Virgil's Allegory. Every one of thoſe circumſtances perſuades me, that Virgil deſcribed a real, not a mimic world, and that the Scene lay in the Infernal Shades, and not in the Temple of Ceres.

The ſingularity of the Cumoean Shores muſt be preſent to every traveller who has once ſeen them. To a ſuperſtitious mind, the thin cruſt, vaſt cavities, ſulphureous ſteams, poiſonous ex⯑halations, and fiery torrents, may ſeem to trace out the narrow Confine of the two Worlds. The lake Avernus was the chief object of reli⯑gious horror; the black Woods which ſurround⯑ed it, when Virgil firſt came to Naples, were perfectly ſuited to feed the ſuperſtition of the People⁷. It was generally believed, that this [31] deadly flood was the entrance of Hell⁸; and an Oracle was once eſtabliſhed on its banks, which pretended, by magic rites, to call up the departed Spirits⁹. Aeneas, who revolved a more daring enterpriſe, addreſſes himſelf to the Prieſteſs of thoſe dark Regions. Their conver⯑ſation may perhaps inform us, whether an Ini⯑tiation, or a deſcent to the Shades, was the ob⯑ject of this enterprize. She endeavours to deter the Hero, by ſetting before him all the dangers of his raſh undertaking:

Theſe particulars are abſolutely irreconcileable with the idea of Initiation, but perfectly agree⯑able to that of a real deſcent. That every ſtep, and every inſtant, may lead us to the grave is a melancholy truth. The Myſteries were only open at ſtated times, a few days at moſt in the courſe of a year. The mimic deſcent of the Myſteries was laborious and dangerous, the re⯑turn to light eaſy and certain. In real death, this order is inverted:

[32] Theſe Heroes, as we learn from the ſpeech of Aeneas, were Hercules, Orpheus, Caſtor and Pollux, Theſeus, and Pirithous. Of all theſe, Antiquity believed, that before their death they had ſeen the habitations of the dead; nor, in⯑deed, will any of the circumſtances tally with a ſuppoſed Initiation. The adventure of Eury⯑dice, the alternate life of the brothers, and the forcible intruſion of Alcides, Theſeus, and Piri⯑thous, would mock the endeavours of the moſt ſubtle Critic, who ſhould try to melt them down into his favourite Myſteries. The exploits of Her⯑cules, who triumphed over the King of Terrors,

was a wild imagination of the Greeks³. But it was the duty of antient Poets, to adopt and embelliſh theſe popular Traditions; and it is the intereſt of every man of taſte, to acquieſce in THEIR POETICAL FICTIONS.

After this, we may leave ingenious men to ſearch out what, or whether any thing, gave riſe to thoſe idle ſtories. Diodorus Siculus repreſents Pluto as a kind of undertaker, who made great improvements in the uſeful art of funerals⁴. Some have ſought for the Poetic Hell in the mines of Epirus⁵, and others in the Myſteries [33] of Egypt. As this laſt notion was publiſhed in French⁶, ſix years before it was invented in Engliſh⁷, the learned author of the D. L. has been ſeverely treated by ſome ungenerous Ad⯑verſaries⁸. Appearances, it muſt be con⯑feſſed, wear a very ſuſpicious aſpect: But what are appearances, when weighed againſt his Lord⯑ſhip's declaration, ‘That this is a point of ho⯑nor in which he is particularly delicate; and that he may venture to boaſt, that he believes no Author was ever more averſe to take to himſelf what belonged to another⁹?’ Be⯑ſides, he has enriched this myſterious diſcovery with many collateral arguments, which would for ever have eſcaped all inferior Critics. In the caſe of Hercules, for inſtance, he demonſtrates, that the Initiation and the deſcent to the Shades were the ſame thing, becauſe an Antient has [34] affirmed that they were different¹⁰; and that Alcides was initiated at Eleuſis, before he ſet out for Taenarus, in order to deſcend to the In⯑fernal Regions.

There is, however, a ſingle circumſtance, in the narration of Virgil, which has juſtly ſur⯑prized Critics, unacquainted with any, but the obvious ſenſe of the Poet; I mean the IVORY GATE. The Biſhop of Gloceſter ſeizes this, as the ſecret mark of Allegory, and becomes elo⯑quent in the exultation of Triumph¹. I could, however, repreſent to him, that in a work which was deprived of the Author's laſt reviſion, Vir⯑gil might too haſtily employ what Homer had invented, and at laſt unwarily ſlide into an Epi⯑curean idea². Let this be as it may, an ob⯑ſcure expreſſion is a weak baſis for an elaborate Syſtem; and whatever his Lordſhip may chuſe to do, I had much rather reproach my favourite Poet with want of care in one line, than with want of taſte throughout a whole Book³.

[35] Virgil has borrowed, as uſual, from Homer, his Epiſode of the Infernal Shades, and, as uſual, has infinitely improved what the Grecian had in⯑vented. If, among a profuſion of beauties, I durſt venture to point out the moſt ſtriking beauties of the Sixth Book, I ſhould perhaps ob⯑ſerve, 1. That after accompanying the Hero through the ſilent realms of Night and Chaos, we ſee with aſtoniſhment and pleaſure a new Cre⯑ation burſting upon us; 2. That we examine, with a delight which ſprings from the love of Virtue, the juſt empire of Minos; in which the apparent irregularities of the preſent Syſtem are corrected; where the Patriot who died for his Country is happy, and the Tyrant who oppreſſed it is miſerable. 3. As we intereſt ourſelves in the Hero's fortunes, we ſhare his feelings: The melancholy Palinurus, the wretched Deiphobus, the indignant Dido; the Grecian Kings, who tremble at his preſence, and the venerable An⯑chiſes, who embraces his pious ſon, and diſplays to his ſight the future glories of his race; all theſe objects affects us with a variety of pleaſing ſenſations.

Let us for a moment obey the mandate of our great Critic, and conſider theſe awful ſcenes as a mimic ſhew, exhibited in the Temple of Ceres, by the contrivance of the Prieſt, or, if he pleaſes, of the Legiſlator. Whatever was ani⯑mated (I appeal to every reader of taſte), what⯑ever [36] ever was terrible, or whatever was pathetic, eva⯑porates into lifeleſs Allegory:

The end of Philoſophy is Truth; the end of Poetry is Pleaſure. I willingly adopt any inter⯑pretation which adds new beauties to the Origi⯑nal; I aſſiſt in perſuading myſelf, that it is juſt; and could almoſt ſhew the ſame indulgence to the Critic's as to the Poet's fiction. But ſhould a grave Doctor lay out fourſcore pages, in ex⯑plaining away the ſenſe and ſpirit of Virgil, I ſhould have every inducement to believe, that Virgil's ſoul was very different from the Doctor's.

I have almoſt exhauſted my own, and proba⯑bly my reader's patience, whilſt I have obſe⯑quiouſly waited on his Lordſhip, through the ſeveral ſtages of an intricate Hypotheſis. He muſt now permit me to alledge two very ſimple reaſons, which perſuade me, that Virgil has not revealed the Secret of the Eleuſinian Myſteries; the firſt is HIS IGNORANCE, and the ſecond HIS DISCRETION.

I. As his Lordſhip has not made the ſmalleſt attempt to prove that Virgil was himſelf ini⯑tiated, [37] it is plain that he ſuppoſed it, as a thing of courſe. Had he any right to ſuppoſe it? By no means: That ceremony might naturally enough finiſh the education of a young Athe⯑nian; but a Barbarian, a Roman, would moſt probably paſs through life without directing his devotion to the foreign rites of Eleuſis.

The Philoſophical ſentiments of Virgil were ſtill more unlikely to inſpire him with that kind of devotion. It is well known that he was a de⯑termined Epicurean⁴; and a very natural An⯑tipathy ſubſiſted between the Epicureans and the Managers of the Myſteries. The Celebration opened with a ſolemn excommunication of thoſe Atheiſtical Philoſophers, who were commanded to retire, and to leave that holy place for pious Believers⁵; the zeal of the people was ready to enforce this admonition. I will not deny, that curioſity might ſometimes tempt an Epicurean to pry into theſe ſecret rites; and that gratitude, fear, or other motives, might engage the Athe⯑nians to admit ſo irreligious an Aſpirant. Atti⯑cus was initiated at Eleuſis; but Atticus was the Friend and Benefactor of Athens⁶. Theſe extraordinary exceptions may be proved, but muſt not be ſuppoſed.

[38] Nay, more; I am ſtrongly inclined to think that Virgil was never out of Italy till the laſt year of his life. I am ſenſible, that it is not eaſy to prove a negative propoſition, more eſpecially when the materials of our knowledge are ſo very few and ſo very defective⁷; and yet by glanc⯑ing our eye over the ſeveral periods of Virgil's life, we may perhaps attain a ſort of probability, which ought to have ſome weight, ſince nothing can be thrown into the oppoſite ſcale.

Altho' Virgil's father was hardly of a lower rank than Horace's, yet the peculiar character of the latter afforded his fon a much ſuperior edu⯑cation: Virgil did not enjoy the ſame opportu⯑nities, of obſerving mankind on the great The⯑atre of Rome, or of purſuing Philoſophy, in her favourite ſhades of the Academy.

[39] The ſphere of Virgil's education did not extend beyond Mantua, Cremona, Milan and Naples⁹.

After the accidents of civil war had introduc⯑ed Virgil to the knowledge of the Great, he paſſed a few years at Rome, in a ſtate of depen⯑dance, the JUVENUM NOBILIUM CLIENS¹⁰. It was during that time that he compoſed his Eclogues, the haſty productions of a Muſe ca⯑pable of far greater things¹.

By the liberality of Auguſtus and his cour⯑tiers, Virgil ſoon became poſſeſſed of an affluent fortune². He compoſed the Georgics and the Aeneid, in his elegant Villas of Campania and Sicily; and ſeldom quitted thoſe pleaſing retreats even to come to Rome³.

After he had finiſhed the Aeneid, he reſolved on a journey into Greece and Aſia, to employ three years in reviſing and perfecting that Poem, and to devote the remainder of his life to the ſtudy of Philoſophy⁴. He was at Athens, with Auguſtus, in the ſummer of AVC 735; and whilſt Auguſtus was at Athens, the Eleuſi⯑nian Myſteries were celebrated⁵. It is not [40] impoſſible, that Virgil might then be initiated, as well as the Indian Philoſopher⁶; but the Aeneid could receive no improvement from his newly-acquired knowledge. He was taken ill at Megara. The journey encreaſed his diſorder, and he expired at Brunduſium, the twenty-ſe⯑cond of September of the ſame year 735⁷.

Should it then appear probable, that Virgil had no opportunity of learning the SECRET of the Myſteries, it will be ſomething more than probable, that he has not revealed what he ne⯑ver knew.

His Lordſhip will perhaps tell me, that Vir⯑gil might be initiated into the Eleuſinian Myſte⯑ries, without making a Journey to Athens: ſince thoſe Myſteries had been brought to Rome long before⁸. Here indeed I ſhould be apt to ſuſ⯑pect ſome miſtake, or, at leaſt, a want of preci⯑ſion in his Lordſhip's Ideas; as Salmaſius⁹ and Caſaubon¹⁰, men tolerably verſed in An⯑tiquity, aſſure me, that indeed ſome Grecian Ceremonies of Ceres had been practiſed at Rome [41] from the earlieſt Ages; but that the Myſteries of Eleuſis were never introduced into that Ca⯑pital, either by the Emperor Hadrian, or by any other: And I am the more induced to be⯑lieve, that theſe rites were not imported in Vir⯑gil's time, as the accurate Suetonius ſpeaks of an unſucceſsful attempt for that purpoſe, made by the Emperor Claudius, above threeſcore years after Virgil's death¹.

II. None but the Initiated COULD reveal the ſecret of the Myſteries; and THE INITIATED COULD NOT REVEAL IT, WITHOUT VIOLATING THE LAWS, AS WELL OF HONORAS OF RELIGION. I ſincerely acquit the Biſhop of Gloceſter of any deſign; yet ſo unfortunate is his Syſtem, that it repreſents a moſt virtuous and elegant Poet, as equally devoid of taſte, and of common honeſty.

His Lordſhip acknowledges, that the Initiated were bound to Secrecy by the moſt ſolemn obli⯑gations²; that Virgil was conſcious of the imputed impiety of his deſign; that at Athens he never durſt have ventured on it; that even at Rome ſuch a diſcovery was eſteemed not only IMPIOUS but INFAMOUS: and yet his Lord⯑ſhip maintains, that after the compliment of a formal Apology,

[42] Virgil lays open the whole SECRET of the My⯑ſteries under the thin Veil of an Allegory, which could deceive none but the moſt careleſs readers⁴.

An Apology! an Allegory! Such artifices might perhaps have ſaved him from the ſen⯑tence of the Areopagus, had ſome zealous or in⯑tereſted Prieſt denounced him to that court, as guilty of publiſhing A BLASPHEMOUS POEM. But the Laws of Honor are more rigid, and yet more liberal, than thoſe of Civil Tribunals. Senſe, not words, is conſidered; and Guilt is aggravated, not protected, by artful Evaſions. Virgil would ſtill have incurred the ſevere cen⯑ſure of a Contemporary, who was himſelf a man of very little Religion.

Nor can I eaſily perſuade myſelf, that the inge⯑nuous mind of Virgil could have deſerved this Excommunication.

Theſe lines belong to an Ode of Horace, which has every merit, except that of order. That Death in our Country's cauſe is pleaſant and honourable; that Virtue does not depend on the caprice of a popular Election; and that [43] the Myſteries of Ceres ought not to be diſcloſed, are ideas which have no apparent connection. The beautiful diſorder of Lyric Poetry, is the uſual Apology made by Profeſſed Critics on theſe occaſions:

An inſufficient Apology for the few, who dare judge from their own feelings. I ſhall not deny, that the irregular notes of an untutored Muſe have ſometimes delighted me. We can very ſeldom be diſpleaſed with the unconſtrained workings of Nature. But the Liberty of an Out⯑law is very different from that of a Savage. It is a mighty diſagreeable ſight, to obſerve a Ly⯑ric Writer of Taſte and Reflection ſtriving to forget the Laws of Compoſition, disjointing the order of his Ideas, and working himſelf up into artificial Madneſs, ‘Ut cum Ratione inſaniat.’ I had once ſucceeded (as I thought) in remov⯑ing this defect, by the help of an Hypotheſis which connected the ſeveral parts of Horace's Ode with each other. My Ideas appeared (I mean to myſelf) moſt ingeniouſly conceived. I read the Ode once more, and burnt my Hypo⯑theſis. But to return to our principal ſubject.

[44] The Date of this Ode may be of uſe to us; and the date may be fixed with tolerable cer⯑tainty, from the mention of the PARTHIANS, who are deſcribed as the enemies againſt whom a brave youth ſhould ſignalize his valor.

Thoſe who are uſed to the LABOURED HAPPINESS of all Horace's expreſſions⁷ will readily al⯑low, that if the Parthians are mentioned rather than the Britons or Cantabrians, the Gauls or the Dalmatians, it could be only at a time when a PARTHIAN WAR engaged the public atten⯑tion. This reflection confines us between the years of Rome 729 and 735. Of theſe ſix years, that of 734 has a ſuperior claim to the Compo⯑ſition of the Ode.

Julius Caeſar was prevented by death from revenging the defeat of Craſſus⁸. This glo⯑rious taſk, unſucceſsfully attempted by Marc Antony⁹, ſeemed to be reſerved for the pru⯑dence [45] and felicity of Auguſtus; who became ſole maſter of the Roman World in the year 724; but it was not till the year 729, that, having changed the civil adminiſtration, and pacified the Weſtern provinces, he had leiſure to turn his Views towards the Eaſt. From that time, Horace, in compliance with the Public wiſh, began to animate both Prince and People to revenge the manes of Craſſus¹⁰. The cautious Policy of Auguſtus, ſtill averſe to war, was at length rouſed in the year 734, by ſome diſturbances in Armenia. He paſſed over into Aſia, and ſent the young Tiberius with an army beyond the Euphrates. Every appearance pro⯑miſed a glorious war. But the Parthian mon⯑arch, Phrahates, alarmed at the approach of the Roman Legions, and diffident of the fidelity of his ſubjects, diverted the ſtorm, by a timely and humble ſubmiſſion:

Caeſar returned in Triumph to Rome, with the Parthian Hoſtages, and the Roman enſigns, which had been taken from Craſſus.

[46] Theſe buſy ſcenes, which engage the attention of Contemporaries, are far leſs intereſting to po⯑ſterity, than the ſilent labours, or even amuſe⯑ments of a man of Genius.

Whilſt Caeſar humbled the Parthians, Virgil was compoſing the Aeneid. It is well known, that this noble Poem occupied the Author, with⯑out being able to ſatisfy him, during the twelve laſt years of his life, from the year 723 to the year 735². The public expectation was ſoon raiſed, and the modeſt Virgil was ſometimes ob⯑bliged to gratify the impatient curioſity of his friends. Soon after the death of young Mar⯑cellus³, he recited the ſecond, fourth, and SIXTH books of the Aeneid, in the preſence of Auguſtus and Octavia⁴. He even ſometimes read parts of his work to more numerous com⯑panies; with a deſire of obtaining their judg⯑ment, rather than their applauſe. In this man⯑ner, Propertius ſeems to have heard the SHIELD OF AENEAS, and from that ſpecimen he ventures [47] to foretell the approaching birth of a Poem, which will ſurpaſs the Iliad.

As a friend and as a Critic, Horace was entitled to all Virgil's confidence, and was probably ac⯑quainted with the whole progreſs of the Aeneid, from the firſt rude ſketch, which Virgil drew up in Proſe, to that harmonious Poetry, which the author alone thought unworthy of poſterity.

To reſume my Idea, which depended on this long deduction of Circumſtances; when Horace compoſed the ſecond ode of his third Book, the Aeneid, and particularly the Sixth Book, were already known to the Public. The deteſtation of the Wretch who reveals the Myſteries of Ce⯑res, though expreſſed in general terms, muſt be applied by all Rome to the author of the Sixth Book of the Aeneid. Can we ſeriouſly ſuppoſe, THAT HORACE WOULD HAVE BRANDED WITH SUCH WANT ON IN FAMY, ONE OF THE MEN IN THE WORLD WHOM HE LOVED AND HONOURED THE MOST⁶?

[48] Nothing remains to ſay, except that Horace was himſelf ignorant of his friend's allegorical meaning, which the Biſhop of Gloceſter has ſince revealed to the World. It may be ſo; yet, for my own part, I ſhould be very well ſa⯑tisfied with underſtanding Virgil no better than Horace did.

It is perhaps ſome ſuch fooliſh fondneſs for Antiquity, which inclines me to doubt, whether the BISHOP OF GLOCESTER has really united the ſevere ſenſe of ARISTOTLE with the ſublime imagination of LONGINUS. Yet a judicious Critic, (who is now, I believe, ARCHDEACON OF GLOCESTER) aſſures the Public, that his Patron's mere amuſements have done much more than the joint labours of the two Gre⯑cians. I ſhall conclude theſe obſervations with a remarkable paſſage from the Archdeacon's Dedication⁷: ‘It was not enough, in YOUR ENLARGED VIEW OF THINGS, to reſtore either of theſe models (ARISTOTLE or LON⯑GINUS) to their original ſplendor. They were both to be revived; or rather A NEW ORI⯑GINAL PLAN OF CRITICISM to be ſtruck out, WHICH SHOULD UNITE THE VIRTUES OF EACH OF THEM. This Experiment was made on the two greateſt of our own Poets [49] (Shakeſpeare and Pope), and by reflecting all the LIGHTS OF THE IMAGINATION ON THE SEVEREST REASON, every thing was affected which the warmeſt admirer of antient art could promiſe himſelf from ſuch a union. BUT YOU WENT FARTHER: By joining to theſe powers A PERFECT INSIGHT INTO HU⯑MAN NATURE; and ſo ennobling the exerciſe of literary, by the juſteſt moral cenſure, YOU HAVE NOW AT LENGTH ADVANCED CRITI⯑CISM TO ITS FULL GLORY?’