After this general survey of the whole earth, I had a mind to view Babylon in particular. Having turned my glass to the north, and inclining it gently to the 20th meridian, I tried to find out that great city. Among the places that passed in succession under my eyes, there was one that fixed my attention. I saw a country-house, neither small nor great, neither too much adorned nor too naked. All about it was more embellished by nature than by art. It overlooked gardens, groves, and some ponds which bounded a hill on the east. A country feast was at this time celebrating, to which all the neighbouring inhabitants were come. Some, stretched on the green turf, were drinking large draughts, and entertaining one another with their former amours; and several were performing dances, which the old men did not think so fine as those of time past.

Seest thou (says the Prefect to me) in the balcony, that young lady who with a smiling air is viewing the sight? She was married some days ago, and it is on her account that this feast is made. Her name is Sophia: she has beauty as you see, fortune, wit, and what is worth more than all the rest, a stock of good sense. She had five Lovers at one time: none made a deep impression in her heart, none were displeasing to her; she could not tell to which to give the preference.

One day she said to them, I am young; and it is not my intention to enter yet into the bands of matrimony, which is always done too soon. If my hand is so valuable as by your eager addresses you seem to think, exert your endeavours to deserve it. But, I declare to you that I shall not make any choice these several years.

Of Sophia’s five Lovers, the first was much inclined to extravagance. Women (says he) are taken with the outside: let us spend freely and spare nothing.

The second had a fund of economy which bordered upon avarice. Sophia (says he) who has a solid judgment, must think him best that shows himself capable of amassing riches: let us turn to commerce.

The third was proud and haughty. Surely (says he) Sophia, who has noble thoughts, will be touched with the lustre of glory: let us take to arms.

The fourth was a studious man. Sophia (says he) who has so much sense, will incline to where the most is to be found. Let us continue to cultivate our mind; and strive to distinguish ourselves among the learned.

The fifth was an indolent man, who gave himself little concern about worldly affairs: he was at a loss what course to take.

Each pursued his plan, and pursued it with that ardor which love alone is capable of inspiring.

The prodigal expended part of his estate in cloaths, in equipages, in domesticks; he built a fine house, furnished it nobly, kept open table, gave balls and entertainments of all kinds: nothing was talked of but his generosity and magnificence.

The merchant set all the springs of commerce in motion, traded to all parts of the world and became one of the richest men of his country. The military man sought occasions; and soon signalized himself. The studious man redoubled his efforts, made discoveries, and became famous.

Mean while, the indolent lover made his reflections; and, believing if he remained unactive he should be excluded, he strove to conquer his indolence. The estate, he had from his ancestors, seemed to him very sufficient, and he did not care to meddle with commerce; the hurry of war was quite opposite to his temper, and he had no mind to take to arms; he had never read but for his amusement, the sciences did not seem to him worth the pains to come at them; he had no ambition to become learned. What then is to be done? Let us wait, (says he) time will show. So he remained at his country-house, pruning his trees, reading Horace, and now and then going to see the only object that disturbed his tranquillity. Ever resolving to take some course, the time slipt away, and he took none.

The fatal hour approaches (said he sometimes to Sophia) you are going to make your choice, and most assuredly it will not be in my favour. Yet a few days, and I am undone. This peaceful retreat, those delightful fields you will not grace, you will not enliven, with your presence. Those serene days that I reckoned to pass with you in the purest of pleasures were only flattering dreams with which love charmed my senses. O Sophia! all that stirs the passions and troubles the repose of men has no power over me; my desires are all centered in you; and I am going to lose you for ever!

You are too reasonable, replied Sophia, to take it ill that I should chuse where I think I shall be happy.

At last, the time was expired, and not without many reflections, Sophia resolved to make her choice.

She said to the prodigal: if I have been the aim of your expences, I am sorry for it: but what you have done for my sake, you would have done, had I been out of the question. You have lavished away one part of your estate to obtain a wife; you would spend the other to avoid the trouble of management. I advise you never to think of it.

She told the merchant, soldier and scholar, I am sensible, you have shown a great regard for me: but I think too you have shown no less, you for riches, you for glory, and you for learning. In trying to fix my inclination, each has followed his own; each would do as much for himself as for me. Should I chuse one of you, his views would still rest upon other objects; one would be busied with increasing his fortune, the other with his promotion in the army, and the third with his progress in the sciences. I cannot therefore satisfy any one of you: and my desire is to ingross the heart of the man who ingrosses mine.

The same day, she saw the solitary gentleman. You have long waited for it (said she to him) and I am at last going to declare my mind. You know what your rivals have done to obtain my consent: see what they were and what they are. For your part, such as you was, such you remain. I think, I see the reason. Indifferent to all other things, you have but one passion, and I am its object. I alone can render you happy. Well then! my happiness shall be in creating yours. I will share the delights of your solitude, and will endeavour to increase them.