While this was in agitation, four Mohilians arrived as ambassadors to propose a peace. Finding the Johannians upon high terms, one of them spoke to this purpose:—_O ye Johannians, do not conclude from you late success, that fortune will be always favourable; she will not always give you the protection of the Europeans, and without their help it is possible you might now sue for a peace, which you seem averse to. Remember the sun rises, comes to its meridian height, and stays not there, but declines in a moment. Let this admonish you to reflect on the constant revolution of all sublunary affairs, and the greater is your glory, the nearer you are to your declension. We are taught by every thing we see, that there is no stability in the world, but nature is in continual movement. The sea, which overflows the sands, has its bounds set, which it cannot pass, which the moment it has reached, without abiding, returns back to the bosom of the deep. Every herb, every shrub and tree, and even our own bodies teach us this lesson, that nothing is durable, or can be counted upon. Time passes away insensibly, one sun follows another, and brings its changes with it. To-day’s globe of light sees you strengthened by these Europeans elate with victory, and we, who have been used to conquer you, come to ask a peace. To-morrow’s sun may see you deprived of your present succours, and the Johannians petitioning us: as therefore we cannot say what to-morrow may bring forth, it would be unwise on uncertain hopes to forego a certain advantage, as surely peace ought to be esteemed by every wise man._ Having said this, the ambassadors withdraw, and were treated by the queen’s orders. After the council had concluded, they were again called upon, and the queen told them, that by the advice of her good friends, the Europeans, and those of her council, she agreed to make peace, which she wished might banish all memory of former injuries; that they must own the war was begun by them, and that she was far from being the aggressor; she only defended herself in her own kingdom, which they had often invaded, though, till within a few days, she had never molested their coasts. If then they really desired to live amicably with her, they must resolve to send two of the king’s children, and ten of the first nobility, as hostages: that they might, when they pleased, return, for these were the only terms on which she would desist prosecuting the advantages she now had, with the utmost vigour.