y did, in the dead of night, and the sudden _estro_ of
inspiration seized him, he grasped his instrument, started up, and on
the instant perpetuated the conception which otherwise he would have
lost for ever. This marvellous Cremona, valued at four hundred guineas,
Paganini, on his death-bed, gave to De Kontski, his nephew and only
pupil, himself an eminent performer, and in his possession it now
remains.

When Paganini was in Dublin, at the musical festival of 1830, the
Marquis of Anglesea, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, came every night
to the concerts at the theatre, and was greatly pleased with his
performance. On the first evening, between the acts, his Excellency
desired that he might be brought round to his box, to be introduced, and
paid him many compliments. Lord Anglesea was at that time residing in
perfect privacy with his family at Sir Harcourt Lee's country house,
near Blackrock, and expressed a wish to get an evening from the great
violinist, to gratify his domestic circle. The negotiation was rather a
difficult one, as Paganini was, of all others, the man who did nothing
in the way of business without an explicit understanding, and a
clearly-defined con-si-de-ra-tion. He was alive to the advantages of
honor, but he loved money with a paramount affection. I knew that he had
received enormous terms, such as L150 and L200 for fiddling at private
parties in London, and I trembled for the vice-regal purse; but I
undertook to manage the affair, and went to work accordingly. The
aid-de-camp in waiting called with me on Paganini, was introduced in due
form, and handed him a card of invitation to dinner, which, of course,
he received and accepted with ceremonious politeness. Soon after the
officer had departed, he said suddenly, "This is a great honor, but am I
expected to bring my instrument?" "Oh, yes," I replied, "as a matter of
course--the Lord Lieutenant's family wish to hear you in private."
"_Caro amico_," rejoined he, with petrifying composure, "_Paganini con
violino e Paganini senza violino,--ecco due animali distinti_."
"Paganini with his fiddle and Paganini without it are two very different
persons." I knew perfectly what he meant, and said, "The Lord Lieutenant
is a nobleman of exalted rank and character, liberal in the extreme, but
he is not Croesus; nor do I think you could with any consistency
receive such an honor as dining at his table, and afterwards send in a
bill for playing two or three tune