don’t wish her to write operas, or arias, or concertos, or symphonies, but grand sonatas for her instrument and for mine.”  I gave her to-day her fourth lesson on the rules of composition and harmony, and am pretty well satisfied with her.  She made a very good bass for the first minuet, of which I had given her the melody, and she has already begun to write in three parts; she can do it, but she quickly tires, and I cannot get her on, for it is impossible to proceed further as yet; it is too soon, even if she really had genius, but, alas! there appears to be none; all must be done by rule; she has no ideas, and none seem likely to come, for I have tried her in every possible way.  Among other things it occurred to me to write out a very simple minuet, and to see if she could not make a variation on it.  Well, that utterly failed.  Now, thought I, she has not a notion how or what to do first.  So I began to vary the first bar, and told her to continue in the same manner, and to keep to the idea.  At length this went tolerably well.  When it was finished, I told her she must try to originate something herself—­only the treble of a melody.  So she thought it over for a whole quarter of an hour, and nothing came.  Then I wrote four bars of a minuet, saying to her, “See what an ass I am!  I have begun a minuet, and can’t even complete the first part; be so very good as to finish it for me.”  She declared this was impossible.  At last, with great difficulty, something came, and I was only too glad that anything at all came.  I told her then to complete the minuet—­that is, the treble only.  The task I set her for the next lesson was to change my four bars, and replace them by something of her own, and to find out another beginning, even if it were the same harmony, only changing the melody.  I shall see to-morrow what she has done.

I shall soon now, I think, receive the poetry for my two-act opera, when I must first present it to the Director, M. de Vismes, to see if he will accept it; but of this there can be no doubt, as it is recommended by Noverre, to whom De Vismes is indebted for his situation.  Noverre, too, is soon to arrange a new ballet, for which I am to write the music.  Rudolf (who plays the French horn) is in the royal service here, and a very kind friend of mine; he understands composition thoroughly, and writes well.  He has offered me the place of organist at Versailles if I choose to accept it:  the salary is 2000 livres a year, but I must live six months at Versailles and the remaining six in Paris, or where I please.  I don’t, however, think that I shall close with the offer; I must take the advice of good friends on the subject. 2000 livres is no such very great sum; in German money it may be so, but not here.  It amounts to 83 louis-d’or 8 livres a year—­ that is, 915 florins 45 kreutzers of our money, (which is certainly a considerable sum,) but only to 383 ecus 2 livres, and that is not much, for it is frightful to see how quickly a dollar goes here!  I am not at all surprised that so little is thought of a louis-d’or in Paris, for it does not go far.  Four dollars, or a louis-d’or, which are the same, are gone in no time.  Adieu!