The Spectator
Chapter 382 : O'er the thin Soil, with silent Joy he spies Transplanted Woods, and borrow'

O'er the thin Soil, with silent Joy he spies Transplanted Woods, and borrow'd Verdure rise; Where every Meadow won with Toil and Blood, From haughty Tyrants, and the raging Flood, With Fruits and Flowers the careful Hind supplies, And cloathes the Marshes in a rich Disguise.

Such Wealth for frugal Hands doth Heaven decree, And such thy Gifts, Celestial Liberty!

Through stately Towns, and many a fertile Plain, The Pomp advances to the neighbouring Main.

Whole Nations crowd around with joyful Cries, And view the Heroe with insatiate Eyes.

In_ Haga's _Towers he waits, 'till Eastern Gales Propitious rise to swell the_ British _Sails.

Hither the Fame of_ England's _Monarch brings The Vows and Friends.h.i.+ps of the neighb'ring Kings; Mature in Wisdom, his extensive Mind Takes in the blended Int'rests of Mankind, The World's great Patriot. Calm thy anxious Breast, Secure in him_, O Europe _take thy Rest; Henceforth thy Kingdoms shall remain confined By Rocks or Streams, the Mounds which Heav'n design'd: The_ Alps _their new-made Monarch shall restrain, Nor shall thy Hills_, Pirene, _rise in vain

But see! to_ Britain's _Isle the Squadrons stand, And leave the sinking Towers, and lessening Land, The Royal Bark bounds o'er the floating Plain, Breaks thro' the Billows, and divides the Main, O'er the vast Deep, Great Monarch, dart thine Eyes, A watry Prospect bounded by the Skies: Ten thousand Vessels, from ten thousand Sh.o.r.es, Bring Gums and Gold, and either_ India's _Stores: Behold the Tributes hastening to thy Throne, And see the wide Horizon all thy own.

Still is it thine; tho' now the cheerful Crew Hail_ Albion's _Cliffs, just whitening to the View.

Before the Wind with swelling Sails they ride, Till_ Thames _receives them in his opening Tide.

The Monarch hears the thundering Peals around, From trembling Woods and ecchoing Hills rebound, Nor misses yet, amid the deafening Train, The Roarings of the hoa.r.s.e-resounding Main.

As in the Flood he sails, from either Side He views his Kingdom in its rural Pride; A various Scene the wide-spread Landskip yields, O'er rich Enclosures and luxuriant Fields: A lowing Herd each fertile Pasture fills, And distant Flocks stray o'er a thousand Hills.

Fair_ Greenwich _hid in Woods, with new Delight, (Shade above Shade) now rises to the Sight: His Woods ordain'd to visit every Sh.o.r.e, And guard the Island which they graced before.

The Sun now rowling down the Western Way, A Blaze of Fires renews the fading Day; Unnumbered Barks the Regal Barge infold, Brightening the Twilight with its beamy Gold; Less thick the finny Shoals, a countless Fry, Before the Whale or kingly Dolphin fly.

In one vast Shout he seeks the crowded Strand, And in a Peal of Thunder gains the Land.

Welcome, great Stranger, to our longing Eyes, Oh! King desir'd, adopted_ Albion _cries.

For thee the East breath'd out a prosperous Breeze, Bright were the Suns, and gently swell'd the Seas.

Thy Presence did each doubtful Heart compose, And Factions wonder'd that they once were Foes; That joyful Day they lost each Hostile Name, The same their Aspect, and their Voice the same.

So two fair Twins, whose Features were design'd At one soft Moment in the Mother's Mind, Show each the other with reflected Grace, And the same Beauties bloom in either Face; The puzzled Strangers which is which enquire, Delusion grateful to the smiling Sire.

From that fair Hill, where h.o.a.ry Sages boast To name the Stars, and count the heavenly Host, By the next Dawn doth great_ Augusta _rise, Proud Town! the n.o.blest Scene beneath the Skies.

O'er_ Thames _her thousand Spires their l.u.s.tre shed, And a vast Navy hides his ample Bed, A floating Forest. From the distant Strand A Line of Golden Carrs strikes o'er the Land_: Britannia's _Peers in Pomp and rich Array, Before their King, triumphant, lead the Way.

Far as the Eye can reach, the gawdy Train, A bright Procession, s.h.i.+nes along the Plain.

So haply through the Heav'n's wide pathless Ways A Comet draws a long-extended Blaze; From East to West [burns through [2]] th' ethereal Frame, And half Heav'n's Convex glitters with the Flame.

Now to the Regal Towers securely brought, He plans_ Britannia's _Glories in his Thought; Resumes the delegated Pow'r he gave, Rewards the Faithful and restores the Brave.

Whom shall the Muse from out the s.h.i.+ning Throng Select to heighten and adorn her Song?

Thee_, Halifax. _To thy capacious Mind, O Man approved, is_ Britain's _Wealth consigned.

Her Coin (while_ Na.s.sau _fought) debas'd and rude, By Thee in Beauty and in Truth renew'd, An Arduous Work! again thy Charge we see, And thy own Care once more returns to Thee.

O! form'd in every Scene to awe and please, Mix Wit with Pomp, and Dignity with Ease: Tho' call'd to s.h.i.+ne aloft, thou wilt not scorn To smile on Arts thy self did once adorn: For this thy Name succeeding Time shall praise, And envy less thy Garter, than thy Bays.

The Muse, if fir'd with thy enlivening Beams, Perhaps shall aim at more exalted Themes, Record our Monarch in a n.o.bler Strain, And sing the opening Wonders of his Reign; Bright_ CAROLINA'_s heavenly Beauties trace, Her valiant_ CONSORT, _and his blooming Race.

A Train of Kings their fruitful Love supplies, A glorious Scene to_ Albion'_s ravish'd Eyes; Who sees by_ BRUNSWICK'_s Hand her Sceptre sway'd, And through his Line from Age to Age convey'd.'

[Footnote 1: [artless Muse the]]

[Footnote 2: he burns].

No. 621. Wednesday, November 17, 1714.

'--postquam se lumine puro Implevit, stellasque vagas miratur et Astra Fixa Polis, vidit quanta sub nocte jaceret Nostra dies, risitque sui ludibria--'

Lucan.

The following Letter having in it some Observations out of the common Road, I shall make it the Entertainment of this Day.

_Mr_. SPECTATOR,

'The common Topicks against the Pride of Man which are laboured by florid and declamatory Writers, are taken from the Baseness of his Original, the Imperfections of his Nature, or the short Duration of those 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 sometimes laudable. The Folly therefore lyes here: We are apt to pride our selves 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 take wrong Measures to attain it. Would a vain Man consult his own Heart, he would find that if others knew his Weaknesses as well as he himself doth, he could not have the Impudence to expect the publick Esteem. Pride therefore flows from want of Reflection, and Ignorance of our selves. Knowledge and Humility come upon us together.

'The proper way to make an Estimate of our selves, is to consider seriously what it is we value or despise in others. A Man who boasts of the Goods of Fortune, a gay Dress or a new t.i.tle, is generally the Mark of Ridicule. We ought therefore not to admire in our selves, what we are so ready to laugh at in other Men.

'Much less can we with Reason pride our selves in those things, which at some time of our Life we shall certainly despise. And yet, if we will give our selves 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, serve only to shew 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 wise in proportion to our Shame and Regret for the Rashness and Extravagance of Youth. Old Age fills us with mortifying Reflections upon a Life, mis-spent 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 future State, the Wisdom, the Experience, and the Maxims of old Age, will be looked upon by a separate Spirit in much the same Light, as an ancient Man now sees the little Follies and Toyings of Infants. The Pomps, the Honours, the Policies, and Arts of mortal Men, will be thought as trifling as Hobby-Horses, Mock Battles, or any other Sports that now employ all the Cunning, and Strength, and Ambition of rational Beings from four Years old to nine or ten.

'If the Notion of a gradual Rise in Beings, from the meanest to the most High, be not a vain Imagination, it is not improbable that an Angel looks down upon a Man, as a Man doth upon a Creature which approaches the nearest to the rational Nature. By the same Rule (if I may indulge my Fancy in this Particular) a superior Brute looks with a kind of Pride on one of an inferior Species. If they could reflect, we might imagine from the Gestures of some of them, that they think themselves the Sovereigns of the World, and that all things were made for them. Such a Thought would not be more absurd in Brute Creatures, than one which Men are apt to entertain, namely, That all the Stars in the Firmament were created only to please their Eyes and amuse their Imaginations. Mr. _Dryden_, in his Fable of the _c.o.c.k and the Fox_, makes a Speech for his Hero the c.o.c.k, which is a pretty Instance for this Purpose,

'Then turning, said to_ Partlet, _See, my Dear, How lavish Nature hath adorn'd the Year; How the pale Primrose and the Violet spring, And Birds essay their Throats, disus'd to sing: All these are ours, and I with Pleasure see Man strutting on two Legs, and aping me.'

'What I would observe from the Whole is this, That we ought to value our selves upon those Things only which superior Beings think valuable, since that is the only way for us not to sink in our own Esteem hereafter.

No. 622. Friday, November 19, 1714.