folly, and continued very peaceably and contentedly in my retreat in
Edinburgh, to finish, in two volumes, the more early part of the
English History, which I gave to the public in 1761, with tolerable,
and but tolerable, success.

But notwithstanding this variety of winds and seasons to which my
writings have been exposed, they had still been making such advances,
that the copy-money given me by the booksellers much exceeded any
thing formerly known in England: I retired to my native country of
Scotland, determined never more to set my foot out of it; and
retaining the satisfaction of never having preferred a request to one
great man, or even making advances of friendship to any of them. As I
was now turned of fifty, I thought of passing all the rest of my life
in this philosophical manner, when I received, in 1763, an invitation
from the Earl of Hertford, with whom I was not in the least
acquainted, to attend him on his embassy to Paris, with a near
prospect of being appointed secretary to the embassy; and, in the
meanwhile, of performing the functions of that office. This offer,
however inviting, I at first declined, both because I was reluctant to
begin connexions with the great, and because I was afraid that the
civilities and gay company of Paris would prove disagreeable to a
person of my age and humour: but on his lordship's repeating the
invitation, I accepted of it. I have every reason, both of pleasure
and interest, to think myself happy in my connexions with that
nobleman, as well as afterwards with his brother General Conway.

Those who have not seen the strange effects of modes will never
imagine the reception I met with at Paris, from men and women of all
ranks and stations. The more I resiled from their excessive
civilities, the more I was loaded with them. There is, however, a