Having failed everywhere, I now turned to Meyerbeer for more introductions, especially to singers.  I was very much surprised when, in consequence of my request, Meyerbeer introduced me to a certain M. Gouin, a post-office official, and Meyerbeer’s sole agent in Paris, whom he instructed to do his utmost for me.  Meyerbeer specially wished me to know M. Antenor Joly, director of the Theatre de la Renaissance, the musical theatre already mentioned.  M. Gouin, with almost suspicious levity, promised me to produce my opera Liebesverbot, which now only required translation.  There was a question of having a few numbers of my opera sung to the committee of the theatre at a special audience.  When I suggested that some of the singers of this very theatre should undertake to sing three of the numbers which had been already translated by Dumersan, I was refused on the plea that all these artists were far too busy.  But Gouin saw a way out of the difficulty; on the authority of Maitre Meyerbeer, he won over to our cause several singers who were under an obligation to Meyerbeer:  Mme. Dorus-Gras, a real primadonna of the Grand Opera, Mme. Widmann and M. Dupont (the two last-named had previously refused to help me) now promised to sing for me at this audience.

This much, then, did I achieve in six months.  It was now nearly Easter of the year 1840.  Encouraged by Gouin’s negotiations, which seemed to spell hope, I made up my mind to move from the obscure Quartier des Innocents to a part of Paris nearer to the musical centre; and in this I was encouraged by Lehrs’ foolhardy advice.

What this change meant to me, my readers will learn when they hear under what circumstances we had dragged on our existence during our stay in Paris.

Although we were living in the cheapest possible way, dining at a very small restaurant for a franc a head, it was impossible to prevent the rest of our money from melting away.  Our friend Moller had given us to understand that we could ask him if we were in need, as he would put aside for us the first money that came in from any successful business transaction.  There was no alternative but to apply to him for money; in the meantime we pawned all the trinkets we possessed that were of any value.  As I was too shy to make inquiries about a pawnshop, I looked up the French equivalent in the dictionary in order to be able to recognise such a place when I saw it.  In my little pocket dictionary I could not find any other word than ‘Lombard.’  On looking at a map of Paris I found, situated in the middle of an inextricable maze of streets, a very small lane called Rue des Lombards.  Thither I wended my way, but my expedition was fruitless.  Often, on reading by the light of the transparent lanterns the inscription ‘Mont de Piete,’ I became very curious to know its meaning, and on consulting my advisory board at home about this ‘Mount of Piety,’ [Footnote:  This is the correct translation of the words Berg