called myself a Parisian,
and having secured a lodging, set up as a teacher of music, though I
knew next to nothing of the art. There was a professor of law in the
town who was an amateur of music, and held concert parties in his house;
to this man I had the effrontry to propose a symphony of my own. I
worked a fortnight at this production, wrote out the instrumental parts,
and on the appointed evening stood up before the orchestra and audience,
tapped my desk, raised by baton, and--never since music began has there
been such an orgy of discords. The musicians could hardly sit in their
chairs for laughing, yet played even louder and louder as the fun took
hold of them; the audience sought to stop their ears; and I, sweat
pouring down my face, conducted this atrocity to the end. But the end
was a little minuet which Venture had taught me; I had appended it to my
symphony, calling it my own work. Its magic put the whole room in good
humour, and I was feliciated on my taste in melody. Next day one of my
orchestra came to see me, and in my despair and broken spirit I told him
my whole story. By nightfall it was known to all Lausanne. But at
Neufchatel, through the next winter, I gradually learned music by
teaching it.

My next occupation was that of interpreter to a Greek prelate and
archimandrite of Jerusalem, whom I met when dining in a little
restaurant. He was collecting money throughout Europe for the
restoration of the Holy Sepulchre; and accompanying him from city to
city, I was of much service to him, even addressing the Senate at Berne
on behalf of his project. Unfortunately for my employer, he addressed
himself to the Marquis de Bonac, who had been ambassador to the Porte,
and knew all about the Holy Sepulchre. I don't know what passed at their
interview, but the archimandrite disappeared and I was detained. In my
desolation I told the marquis the history of my life, and by him was
sent to Paris, with plenty of money in my pocket, to enter the service
of a young friend of his in the army. My first sight of the city was a
disappointment which I have never got over, and the proposed engagement
fell through. Coming to the end of my resources, I set out by way of
Lyons, where I suffered the extremity of poverty, to find Mme. de
Warens, who was now, as I learned, at Chamberi. I came to her house and
found the intendant-general with her. Without addressing me, she said,
"Here, sir, he is; protect him as long as he dese