[225:1] Letters, collected edition, v. 69. [225:2] Ib. 73. [225:3] Ib. 77. [226:1] Ib. 90-91. He was not then aware that Hume's presence was destined to afford him an opportunity of becoming "the mode" himself. This he tells us was the effect of his jeu d'esprit on Rousseau, with which we shall hereafter have concern; and he tells it in a manner which shows that, however contemptible when set in the brow of David Hume, the chaplet of fashionable renown was not felt to be unbecoming on his own. Thus, he says to Mr. Conway, on 12th January, 1766, "I almost repent having come hither, for I like the way of life and many of the people so well, that I doubt I shall feel more regret at leaving Paris than I expected. It would sound vain to tell you the honours and distinctions I receive, and how much I am in fashion. Yet when they come from the handsomest women in France, and the most respectable in point of character, can one help being a little proud? If I was twenty years younger, I should wish they were not quite so respectable. Madame de Brionne, whom I have never seen, and who was to have met me at supper last night, at the charming Madame D'Egmont's, sent me an invitation by the latter for Wednesday next. I was engaged and hesitated: I was told, 'Comment! savez-vous que c'est qu'elle ne feroit pas pour toute La France.' However, lest you should dread my returning a perfect old swain, I study my wrinkles, compare myself and my limbs to every plate of larks I see, and treat my understanding with at least as little mercy. Yet, do you know, my present fame is owing to a very trifling composition, but which has made incredible noise. I was one evening at Madame Geoffrin's, joking on Rousseau's affectations and contradictions, and said some things that diverted them. When I came home I put them into a letter, and showed it next day to Helvetius, and the Duke de Nivernois, who were so pleased with it, that, after telling me some faults in the language, which you may be sure there were, they encouraged me to let it be seen. As you know I willingly laugh at mountebanks, political or literary, let their talents be ever so great, I was not averse. The copies have spread like wildfire, _et me voici à la mode_. I expect the end of my reign, at the end of the week, with great composure." (Ib. 118-119.)