It is the peculiar providence of Heaven, as I took notice in the beginning of this work, that the more ignoble passions of human nature, are, generally speaking, opposites, and by that means serve as a curb to bridle the inordinancy of each other; so that, though _one alone_ would be pernicious to society, and render the person possessed of it obnoxious to the world, _many_ will prevent the hurt, and make the man himself tolerable. The adventure I am now going to relate, will prove that Natura had the greatest excitements, and the greatest justification both for wrath and revenge that could possibly be offered to any one man: yet did another passion, not more excusable than either of these, suppress all the turbulent emotions of both, and quench the boiling flames within his soul, insomuch as to make him appear all calmness and contentedness. But though I made use of the word passion to express the now prevailing propensity of Natura's soul, I do not think that ambition, strictly speaking, can come under that denomination:--to me it rather seems the effect of an assemblage of other passions, than a passion simple of itself, and natural to the mind of man; and I believe, whoever examines it to the fountain head, will find it takes its origin from pride and envy, and is nourished by self-love, nor ever appears in any great degree, where these do not abound.--Were it born with us, there would doubtless be some indications of it in childhood, but it is observable, that not till man arrives at maturity, and even not then, unless the sight of objects above himself excites it, he discovers the least sensation of any such emotion.--In fine, it is an inclination rarely known in youth, ordinarily declines in age, and never exerts itself with vigour, as in the middle stage of life, which I reckon to be from about five-and-twenty to fifty, or somewhat more, according to the strength of the natural stamina, or constitution.--But to go on with my history. Since Natura had been in what they call a settled state in the world, it had always been his custom to distinguish the anniversary of that day which gave him birth, by providing a polite entertainment for his friends and kindred: he had now attained to his fortieth year, and though it had been that in which he had known more poignant disquiets, than in any one of his whole life before; yet thinking that to neglect the observation of it now, would give occasion for remarks on his reasons for so doing, he resolved to treat it with the usual ceremony.