I now learned from Venture that he had spoken of me to the Judge Major, and would take me next day to dine with him; that he was a man who by means of his friends might render me essential service.  In other respects he was a desirable acquaintance, being a man of wit and letters, of agreeable conversation, one who possessed talents and loved them in others.  After this discourse (mingling the most serious concerns with the most trifling frivolity) he showed me a pretty couplet, which came from Paris, on an air in one of Mouret’s operas, which was then playing.  Monsieur Simon (the judge major) was so pleased with this couplet, that he determined to make another in answer to it, on the same air.  He had desired Venture to write one, and he wished me to make a third, that, as he expressed it, they might see couplets start up next day like incidents in a comic romance.

In the night (not being able to sleep) I composed a couplet, as my first 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.