e a judge of violin playing, I would pronounce him the most
surprising performer in the world!"

That Paganini was either innocent of the charge for which he suffered
the incarceration Colonel Maxwell mentions, or that it could not be
proved against him, may be reasonably inferred from the fact that he
escaped the gallies of the executioner. In Italy, there was then, _par
excellence_ (whatever there may be now), a law for the rich, and another
for the poor. As he was without money, and unable to buy immunity, it is
charitable to suppose he was entitled to it from innocence. A nobleman,
with a few _zecchini_, was in little danger of the law, which confined
its practice entirely to the lower orders. I knew a Sicilian prince, who
most wantonly blew a vassal's brains out, merely because he put him in a
passion. The case was not even inquired into. He sent half a dollar to
the widow of the defunct (which, by the way, he borrowed from me, and
never repaid), and there the matter ended. Lord Nelson once suggested to
Ferdinand IV. of Naples, to try and check the daily increase of
assassination, by a few salutary executions. "No, no," replied old
Nasone, who was far from being as great a fool as he looked, "that is
impossible. If I once began that system, my kingdom would soon be
depopulated. One half my subjects would be continually employed in
hanging the remainder."

Among other peculiarities, Paganini was an incarnation of avarice and
parsimony, with a most contradictory passion for gambling. He would
haggle with you for sixpence, and stake a rouleau on a single turn at
_rouge et noir_. He screwed you down in a bargain as tightly as if you
were compressed in a vice; yet he had intervals of liberality, and
sometimes did a generous action. In this he bore some resemblance to the
celebrated John Elwes, of miserly notoriety, who deprived himself of the
common necessaries of life, and lived on a potato skin, but sometimes
gave a check for L100 to a public charity, and contributed largely to
private subscriptions. I never heard that Paganini actually did this,
but once or twice he played for nothing, and sent a donation to the
Mendicity, when he was in Dublin.

When he made his engagement with me, we mutually agreed to write no
orders, expecting the house to be quite full every night, and both being
aware that the "sons of freedom," while they add nothing to the
exchequer, seldom assist the effect of the performance. They are not