mere
street juggling.

"In short, the compositions of Rossini, in whom this music is
personified, with those of the writers who are more or less of his
school, to me seem worthy at best to collect a crowd in the street round
a grinding organ, as an accompaniment to the capers of a puppet show.
I even prefer French music, and I can say no more. Long live German
music!" cried he, "when it is tuneful," he added to a low voice.

This sally was the upshot of a long preliminary discussion, in which,
for more than a quarter of an hour, Andrea had divagated in the upper
sphere of metaphysics, with the ease of a somnambulist walking over the
roofs.

Gambara, keenly interested in all this transcendentalism, had not lost a
word; he took up his parable as soon as Andrea seemed to have ended, and
a little stir of revived attention was evident among the guests, of whom
several had been about to leave.

"You attack the Italian school with much vigor," said Gambara, somewhat
warmed to his work by the champagne, "and, for my part, you are very
welcome. I, thank God, stand outside this more or less melodic frippery.
Still, as a man of the world, you are too ungrateful to the classic
land whence Germany and France derived their first teaching. While the
compositions of Carissimi, Cavalli, Scarlatti, and Rossi were being
played throughout Italy, the violin players of the Paris opera house
enjoyed the singular privilege of being allowed to play in gloves.
Lulli, who extended the realm of harmony, and was the first to classify
discords, on arriving in France found but two men--a cook and a
mason--whose voice and intelligence were equal to performing his music;
he made a tenor of the former, and transformed the latter into a bass.
At that time Germany had no musician excepting Sebastian Bach.--But you,
monsieur, though you are so young," Gambara added, in the humble tone of
a man who expects to find his remarks received with scorn or ill-nature,
"must have given much time to the study of these high matters of art;
you could not otherwise explain them so clearly."

This word made many of the hearers smile, for they had understood
nothing of the fine distinctions drawn by Andrea. Giardini, indeed,
convinced that the Count had been talking mere rhodomontade, nudged
him with a laugh in his sleeve, as at a good joke in which he flattered
himself that he was a partner.

"There is a great deal that strikes me as very true in all you have
sa