assistance. The young Marquis of Sennecterre, whose father was then
ambassador at Turin, passed through Chambery at the same time, and dined
one day at M. de Menthon's, when I happened to be among the guests.
After dinner; the discourse turned on music, which the marquis understood
extremely well. The opera of 'Jephtha' was then new; he mentioned this
piece, it was brought him, and he made me tremble by proposing to execute
it between us. He opened the book at that celebrated double chorus,

La Terra, l'Enfer, le Ciel meme,
Tout tremble devant le Seigneur!

[The Earth, and Hell, and Heaven itself,
tremble before the Lord!]

He said, "How many parts will you take? I will do these six." I had not
yet been accustomed to this trait of French vivacity, and though
acquainted with divisions, could not comprehend how one man could
undertake to perform six, or even two parts at the same time. Nothing
has cost me more trouble in music than to skip lightly from one part to
another, and have the eye at once on a whole division. By the manner in
which I evaded this trial, he must have been inclined to believe I did
not understand music, and perhaps it was to satisfy himself in this
particular that he proposed my noting a song for Mademoiselle de Menthon,
in such a manner that I could not avoid it. He sang this song, and I
wrote from his voice, without giving him much trouble to repeat it. When
finished he read my performance, and said (which was very true) that it
was very correctly noted. He had observed my embarrassment, and now
seemed to enhance the merit of this little success. In reality, I then
understood music very well, and only wanted that quickness at first sight
which I possess in no one particular, and which is only to be acquired in