o my taste. Bad
health, and sorrows sharp and repeated, have given a serious cast to my
character, which is naturally very gay."

Her first entrance into the world in which wit reigned supreme was in
the free but elegant salon of Mlle. Quinault, an actress of the Comedie
Francaise, who had left the stage, and taking the role of a femme
d'esprit, had gathered around her a distinguished and fashionable
coterie. This woman, who had received a decoration for a fine motet
she had composed for the queen's chapel, who was loved and consulted by
Voltaire, and who was the best friend of d'Alembert after the death of
Mlle. de Lespinasse, represented the genius of esprit and finesse. She
was the companion of princes, the adoration of princesses, the oracle of
artists and litterateurs, the model of elegance, and the embodiment of
social success. It did not matter much that the tone of her salon was
lax; it was fashionable. "It distilled dignity, la convenance, and
formality," says the Marquise de Crequi, who relates an anecdote that
aptly illustrates the glamour which surrounded talent at that time. She
was taken by her grandmother to see Mlle. Quinault, and by some chance
mistook her for Mlle. de Vertus, who was so much flattered by her
innocent error that she left her forty thousand francs, when she died a
few months later.

Mme. d'Epinay was delighted to find herself in so brilliant a world, and
was greatly fascinated by its wit, though she was not sure that those
who met there did not "feel too much the obligation of having it." But
she caught the spirit, and transferred it, in some degree, to her own
salon, which was more literary than fashionable. Here Francueil presents
"a sorry devil of an author who is as poor as Job, but has wit and
vanity enough for four." This is Rousseau, the most conspicuous figure
in the famous coterie. "He is a man to whom one should raise altars,"
wrote Mme. d'Epinay. "And the simplicity with which he relates his
misfortunes! I have still a pitying soul. It is frightful to imagine
such a man in misery." She fitted up for him the Hermitage, and did a
thousand kind things which entitled her to a better return than he gave.
There is a pleasant moment when we find him the center of an admiring
circle at La Chevrette, falling madly in love with her clever and
beautiful sister-in-law the Comtesse d'Houdetot, writing "La Nouvelle
Heloise" under the inspiration of this passion, and dreaming in the
lovely