When I reached home I found that I had been preceded by my new and famous colleagues. They had left their congratulations with my concierge signed Meissonier, Lefeul, Ballu, Cabanel. Meissonier had brought the report of the sitting signed by him, which showed the two votes, for I was elected on the second ballot. That was certainly an autograph the like of which I would not receive twice in my life! A fortnight later, according to the custom, I was introduced in the Salle des Séances of the Académie des Beaux-Arts by Comte Delaborde, the permanent secretary. A new member had to wear a black coat and a white tie, and going to the reception in dress clothes at three o'clock in the afternoon, one would have thought I was on my way to a wedding. I took my place in the chair which I still occupy. That takes me back more than thirty-three years! A few days later I wanted to take advantage of my privileges by attending the reception of Renan. The ushers did not know me yet, and I was the Benjamin of the Académie. They would not believe me and refused to let me in. One of my colleagues, and not the least of them, Prince Napoleon, who was going in at the same time, told them who I was. While I was making the usual round of visits of thanks, I called on Ernest Reyer at his picturesque apartment in the Rue de la Tour d'Auvergne. He opened the door himself and was much surprised to see me for he knew I must know that he had not been altogether favorable to me. "I know," I said, "that you did not vote for me. What touched me was that you did not vote against me!" This put Reyer in good humor, for he said, "I am at lunch. Share my fried eggs with me!" I accepted and we talked a long time about art and its manifestations. For over thirty years Ernest Reyer was my best and firmest friend. As one might imagine, the Institute did not sensibly modify my position. Indeed it made it somewhat more difficult, as I wanted to get on with the score of _Hérodiade_, and so stopped several lessons which were my most certain sources of revenue. * * * * * Three weeks after my election a monster festival took place at the Hippodrome. More than twenty thousand people took part. Gounod and Saint-Saëns conducted their own works. I had the honor of directing the finale of the third act of _Le Roi de Lahore_. Everyone remembers the prodigious effect of that festival which was organized by Albert Vizentini, one of the best companions of my childhood. While I was waiting in the green-room for my turn to go on, Gounod came in haloed with triumph. I asked him what he thought of the audience. "I fancied that I saw the Valley of Jehosophat," he said. An amusing detail was told me afterwards.