essay in poetry. It was passable; better, or at least composed with more
taste than it would have been the preceding night, the subject being
tenderness, to which my heart was now entirely disposed. In the morning
I showed my performance to Venture, who, being pleased with the couplet,
put it in his pocket, without informing me whether he had made his. We
dined with M. Simon, who treated us very politely. The conversation was
agreeable; indeed it could not be otherwise between two men of natural
good sense, improved by reading. For me, I acted my proper part, which
was to listen without attempting to join in the conversation. Neither of
them mentioned the couplet nor do I know that it ever passed for mine.
M. Simon appeared satisfied with my behavior; indeed, it was almost all
he saw of me at this interview. We had often met at Madam de Warrens,
but he had never paid much attention to me; it is from this dinner,
therefore, that I date our acquaintance, which, though of no use in
regard to the object I then had in view, was afterwards productive of
advantages which make me recollect it with pleasure. I should be wrong
not to give some account of this person, since from his office of
magistrate, and the reputation of wit on which he piqued himself, no idea
could be formed of it. The judge major, Simon, certainly was not two feet
high; his legs spare, straight, and tolerably long, would have added
something to his stature had they been vertical, but they stood in the
direction of an open pair of compasses. His body was not only short, but
thin, being in every respect of most inconceivable smallness--when naked
he must have appeared like a grasshopper. His head was of the common
size, to which appertained a well-formed face, a noble look, and
tolerably fine eyes; in short, it appeared a borrowed head, stuck on a
miserable stump. He might very well have dispensed with dress, for his
large wig alone covered him from head to foot.

He had two voices, perfectly different, which intermingled perpetually in