It now seems necessary to state more circumstantially, and to make intelligible, how, under the circumstances, I made my way with more or less ease through the French language, which, however, I had never learned.  Here, too, my natural gift was of service to me; enabling me easily to catch the sound of a language, its movement, accent, tone, and all other outward peculiarities.  I knew many words from the Latin; Italian suggested still more; and by listening to servants and soldiers, sentries and visitors, I soon picked up so much, that, if I could not join in conversation, I could at any rate manage single questions and answers.  All this, however, was little compared to the profit I derived from the theatre.  My grandfather had given me a free ticket, which I used daily, in spite of my father’s reluctance, by dint of my mother’s support.  There I sat in the pit, before a foreign stage, and watched the more narrowly the movement and the expression, both of gesture and speech; as I understood little or nothing of what was said, and therefore could only derive entertainment from the action and the tone of voice.  I understood least of comedy; because it was spoken rapidly, and related to the affairs of common life, of the phrases of which I knew nothing.  Tragedy was not so often played; and the measured step, the rhythm of the Alexandrines, the generality of the expression, made it more intelligible to me in every way.  It was not long before I took up Racine, which I found in my father’s library, and declaimed the plays to myself, in the theatrical style and manner, as the organ of my ear, and the organ of speech, so nearly akin to that, had caught it, and this with considerable animation; although I could not yet understand a whole connected speech.  I even learned entire passages by rote like a trained talking-bird, which was easier to me, from having previously committed to memory passages from the Bible which are generally unintelligible to a child, and accustomed myself to reciting them in the tone of the Protestant preachers.  The versified French comedy was then much in vogue:  the pieces of Destouches, Marivaux, and La Chaussee were often produced; and I still remember distinctly many characteristic figures.  Of those of Moliere I recollect less.  What made the greatest impression upon me was “The Hypermnestra” of Lemiere, which, as a new piece, was brought out with care and often repeated.  “The Devin du Village,” “Rose et Colas,” “Annette et Lubin,” made each a very pleasant impression upon me.  I can even now recall the youths and maidens decorated with ribbons, and their gestures.  It was not long before the wish arose in me to see the interior of the theatre, for which many opportunities were offered me.  For as I had not always patience to stay and listen to the entire plays, and often carried on all sorts of games with other children of my age in the corridors, and in the milder season even before the door, a handsome, lively boy joined