said Candide, still to himself; “what a prodigious genius is this Pococurante! nothing can please him.”

After finishing their survey of the library, they went down into the garden, when Candide commended the several beauties that offered themselves to his view.

“I know nothing upon earth laid out in such bad taste,” said Pococurante; “everything about it is childish and trifling; but I shall have another laid out tomorrow upon a nobler plan.”

As soon as our two travelers had taken leave of His Excellency, Candide said to Martin, “Well, I hope you will own that this man is the happiest of all mortals, for he is above everything he possesses.”

“But do not you see,” answered Martin,