Hence this Nation, beheld with envious Eyes by their Neighbours, drew Pity from me more than Envy. Fear, Jealousy, Suspicion, and Distrust, reign in every Mind, and each looks upon his Neighbour as a designing Enemy. So that endless Solicitude, wasting Cares, and pallid Complexions, are the Fruits of the boasted Felicity of this Province. It was not without Anxiety I travell’d over this Region; for in every Road, and upon every Frontier, I was oblig’d to give an Account of my Business, Name, and Country, to the Guards and Examiners, and I found myself expos’d to all those Vexations which Travellers experience in Countries that are jealous of Strangers. There is a Volcano, or burning Mountain, in this Province, from whence ascend perpetual Whirlwinds of Fire. After having run over this Principality, and that with more Trouble than I experienc’d throughout my whole Journey, I pursued my Course full East. I every where found the Inhabitants sociable and well-behav’d, but extremely paradoxical. The Natives of the little Kingdom of _Quamboia_ surpriz’d me most. There the Order of Nature is inverted. The more the Natives advance in Years, the more wanton and voluptuous they grow; and Age produces such fantastic Vices, and such lascivious Freaks, as Youth alone, in every other Place, is guilty of. Here none are intrusted with the Cares of State, unless they are under forty Years of Age. When they exceed this Term, they are too giddy for Business, like Children, _Quos dura premit custodia matrum_. I saw here the Aged frisking and gamboling in the Streets like Boys, and spending their Time in puerile Diversions. They did, as the Poet says, _Ædificare casas, plostello adjungere mures, Ludere par impar, equitare in arundine longa_.