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Mature in wisdom, his extensive mind
But see! to Britain's ise the squadrons ftand,
Šill is it thine; tho' now the cheerful crew
As in the flond he fails, from either side,
The fun now.rolling down the western way,
stranger, to our longing eyes,
So two fair twins whose features were design’d At one foft moment in the mother's mind, Show each the other with refleEted grace, And the fame beauties bloom in either face; The puzzled strangers which is which inquire ; Delufion grateful to the smiling fire.
From that fair * hill, where hoary fages boast To name the stars, and count the heav'nly host, By the next dawn doth great Augusta rise, Proud town! the noblest scene beneath the skies. O'er Thames her thousand fpires their lufture shed, And a vast navy hides his anple bed, A floating foreft. From the difiunt firand A line of golilen cars strikes o’er the kind : Britannia's Peers in pomp and rich array, Before their King, triumphant, load the way. Far as the eye can reach, the garidy train, Abright proceßion, shines along the plain.
So haply through the heav'n's wide pathlefs ways A comet draws a long extended blaze;
* Mr. Flamstead's houses VOL. VIII ,
From East to Weft burns through thetherial frame, And half heav'n's convex glitters with the flame.
Now to the regal towers securely brought,
The muse, if fir'd with thy enliv'ning beams,
A glorious scene to Albion's ravib'd eyes; who fees by BRUNSWICK's hand her sceptre fway'd, And through his line from age to age convey'd.
N 621. WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 17.
Poftquam fe lumine pure Implevit, ftellasque vagas miratur et aftra Fixa polis, vidid quanta sub-nocte jaceret. Nostra dies, risitque sui ludibria
LUCAN. I, ix. ver. !!,, Now to the blest abode, with wonder fill'd, The fun and moving planets he behold; Then looking down on the sun's feeble ray, ? Surveyd our dufky, faint, imperfe&t day, And under what a cloud of night we lay:
Rowe. THE following letter having in it fome observa
tions out of the common road, I shall make it. the entertainment of this day. • Mr. SPECTATOR, "HE common topics against the pride of man,
which are laboured by florid and declamatory writers, are taken from the bafeness of his 6. original, the imperfections of his nature, or the 6. fhort duration of thofe goods in which he makes .' his boast. Though it be true that we can have " nothing in us that ought to raise our vanity, yet
a consciousness of our own merit may be fometimes laudable. The folly therefore lies here ; we are apt to pride ourselves in worthless or perhaps shameful things; and, on the other hand, count that disgraceful which is our truest glory. • Hence it is, that the lovers of praise cké wrong measures to attain it. Would a vain man consult his own heart, he would find, that if o
thers knew his weaknesses as well as he himself • doth, he could not have the impudence to expect the public esteem. Pride therefore flows
• from want of reflexion, and ignorance of our• felves. Knowledge and humility come upon us together.
The proper way to make an estimate of our• felves, is to consider seriously what it is we value
or defpife in others. A man who boafts of the
goods of fortune, a gay dress, or a new title, is • generally the mark of ridicule. We ought there
fore not admire in ourselves what we are fo ready to laugh at in other men.
Much less can we with reason pride ourfelves ' in those things, which at some time of our life
we hall certainly despise. And yet, if we will
give ourselves the trouble of looking backward • and forward on the several changes which we • have already undergone and hereafter must try, • we shall find that the greater degrees of our • knowledge and wisdom ferve only to Thew us our • own imperfections.
• As we rise from childhood to youth, we look • with contempt on the toys and trifles which our • hearts have hitherto been set upon. When we
advance to manhood, we are held wife in proportion to our shame, and regret for the rashness and extravagance of youth. Old age fills us with niortifying reflexions upon a life mispent in the
pursuit of anxious wealth or uncertain honour. • Agreeable to this gradation of thought in this
life, it may be reasonably supposed, that in a fu
ture ftate, the wisdoin, the experience, and the ( maxims of old age, will be looked upon by a se
parate spirit in much the fame light as an ancient
man now fees the little follies and toyings of in( fants. The pomps, the honours, the policies, * and arts of mortal men, will be thought as trif• ling as hobby horses, mock battles, or any other • sports that now employ all the cunning and • ftrength, and ambition of rational beings from
four years old to nine or ten.