lated the preceding incident to me; the reader may suppose
him to be addressing myself. The leading circumstances are strictly
true, the names and some trifling matters alone being altered. The story
is invested with interest from its great similarity to a portion of the
plot of the "Antiquary;" I have the strongest reason to believe, from
the intimate acquaintance the great novelist possessed with the country,
that he drew Sir Arthur Wardour's similar escape from ruin, from a
recollection of the event briefly related above.

VYVYAN.

* * * * *

SELECT BIOGRAPHY.

* * * * *

PAGANINI, THE VIOLINIST.

By aid of the _Foreign Quarterly Review_, we are enabled to submit
to our readers the following very interesting Memoirs of this eccentric
genius.

By the way, we are happy to find that the above work is enabled to
maintain the high character with which it started. It argues well for
the literary taste of this country, by cherishing acquaintance with
continental literature, and thus strengthening our resources at home.

Nicolo Paganini was born at Genoa, in February, 1784. We are not
informed as to his father's profession, if indeed he had any: all that
we are told is, that his chief pursuit was to improve his circumstances,
which were not the best in the world, by speculating in the lottery, so
that when his little son, Nicolo, began at an unusually early age to
give strong indications of musical talent, it seemed to him as if the
wheel of fortune had at last been propitious, and he accordingly lost
no time in setting to work to make the most of his prize. Having some
skill on the violin himself, he resolved to teach him that instrument;
and as soon as he could hold it, put one into his hands, and made him
sit beside him from, morning to night, and practise it. The incessant
drudgery which he compelled him to undergo, and the occasional
starvation to which he subjected him, seriously impaired his health,
and, as Paganini himself asserts, laid the foundation of that
valetudinarian state which has ever since been his portion, and which
his pale, sickly countenance, and his sunk and exhausted frame so
strongly attest. As his enthusiasm was such as to require no artificial
stimulus, this severe system could only have been a piece of cool and
wanton barbarity. He already began to show much promise of excellence,
when a circumstance occurred which