moderation, is the greatest proof we can give of our reason:—­a dull insensibility is not a testimony, either of wisdom or virtue; we are not to bear afflictions like statues, but like men; that is, we are allowed to feel, but not to repine, or be impatient under them:—­few there are, however, who have the power of preserving this happy medium, as I before observed, tho’ they are such as have the assistance both of precept and experience.

In a word, all that can be expected from the best of men, when pressed with any heavy calamity, is to struggle with all his might to bear up beneath the weight with decency and resignation; and as grief never seizes strongly on the mind, till a sufficient number of years gives reason strength to combat with it, that consideration furnishes matter for praise and adoration of the all-wise and all-beneficent Author of our being, who has bestowed on us a certain comfort for all ills, if we neglect not to make use of it; so that no man can be unhappy, unless he will be so.

Motives for grief which happen on a sudden merit excuse for the extravagancies they sometimes occasion, because they surprize us unawares, reason is off her guard, and it cannot be expected we should be armed against what we had no apprehensions of;—­presence of mind is an excellent, but rare quality, and we shall see very few, even among the wisest men, who are such examples of it, as to behave in the first shock of some unforeseen misfortune, with the same moderation and calmness of temper, as they would have done, had they had previous warning of what was to befal them.

Much, however, are the effects of this, as of all other passions, owing to constitution:—­the robust and sanguine nature soon kindles, and is soon extinguished; whereas the phlegmatic is slow to be moved, and when so not easily settled into a calm:  and tho’ the difference of age makes a wide difference in our way of thinking, yet as there are old men at twenty, and boys at three-score, that rule is not without some exceptions.  But to take nature in the general, and allowing for the different habits of body and complexion, we may be truly said to be most prone to particular passions at particular ages:—­as in youth, love, hope, and joy;—­in maturity, ambition, pride, and its attendant ostentation;—­when more advanced in years, grief, fear, and despair;—­and in old age, avarice, and a kind of very churlish dislike of every thing presented to us.

But to return to Natura, from whose adventures I have digressed; but I hope forgiveness for it, as it was not only the history of the man I took upon me to relate, but also to point out, in his example, the various progress of the passions in a human mind.

He acquitted himself of the important trust had been reposed in him, with all the diligence and discretion could be expected from him; and returned honoured with many rich presents from the prince to whom he had been sent, as a testimony of the sense he had of his abilities.