with many "eccellenzas" and gesticulations of 'respect, asking me to give him an order. I said, "Why do you come to me? Apply to your master-won't he give you one?" "Oh,

not ?"

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negotiation was rather a difficult one, as Paganini was, of all others, the man who did cothing, in the way of business, without an explicit understanding, and a clearly-defined conyes; but I don't like to ask him." "Why sid-e-ra-ti-on. He was alive to the advantage "Because he'll stop the amount out of of honor, but he loved money with a paramount my wages!" My heart relented; I gave him affection. I knew that he had received enorthe order, and paid Paganini the dividend. Imous terms, such as £150 and £200 for fidtold him what it was, thinking, as a matter of dling at private parties in London, and I tremcourse, he would return it. He seemed uncer- bled for the viceregal purse; but I undertook to tain for a moment, paused, smiled sardonically, manage the affair, and went to work accordlooked at the three and sixpence, and with a ingly. The aid-de-camp in waiting called with spasmodic twitch, deposited it in his own waist- me on Paganini, was introduced in due form, coat pocket instead of mine. Voltaire says, and handed him a card of invitation to dinner, "no man is a hero to his valet de chambre, ," which, of course, he received and accepted with meaning, thereby, as I suppose, that being be- ceremonious politeness. Soon after the officer hind the scenes of every-day life, he finds out had departed, he said, suddenly, "This is a great that Marshal Saxe, or Frederick the Great, is as honor, but am I expected to bring my instrusubject to the common infirmities of our nature, ment ?" "Oh, yes," I replied, as a matter as John Nokes or Peter Styles. Whether of course-the Lord Lieutenant's family wish Paganini's squire of the body looked on his to hear you in private." "Caro amico," rejoinmaster as a hero, in the vulgar acceptation of ed he, with petrifying composure, Paganini the word, I can not say, but in spite of his con violino é Paganini senza violino,—ecco due stinginess, which he writhed under, he regarded animali distinti.” Paganini with his fiddle, him with mingled reverence and terror. "A and Paganini without it, are two very different strange person, your master," observed I. persons.' I knew perfectly what he meant, Signor," replied the faithful Sancho Panza, and said, "The Lord Lieutenant is a nobleman "e veramente grand uomo, ma da non potersi of exalted rank and character, liberal in the excomprendere." "He is truly a great man, but treme, but he is not Croesus; nor do I think quite incomprehensible." It was edifying to ob- you could, with any consistency, receive such serve the awful importance with which Antonio an honor as dining at his table, and afterward bore the instrument nightly intrusted to his send in a bill for playing two or three tunes in charge to carry to and from the theatre. He the evening." He was staggered; and asked, considered it an animated something, whether "What do you advise?" I said, "Don't you dæmon or angel he was unable to determine, think a present, in the shape of a ring, or a but this he firmly believed, that it could speak snuff-box, or something of that sort, with s in actual dialogue when his master pleased, or short inscription, would be a more agreeable become a dumb familiar by the same controlling mode of settlement ?" He seemed tickled by volition. This especial violin was Paganini's this suggestion, and closed with it at once. I inseparable companion. It lay on his table dispatched the intelligence through the proper before him as he sat meditating in his solitary channel, that the violin and the gran maestro chamber; it was placed by his side at dinner, would both be in attendance. He went in his and on a chair within his reach when in bed. If very choicest mood, made himself extremely he woke, as he constantly did, in the dead of agreeable, played away, unsolicited, throughout night, and the sudden estro of inspiration seized the evening, to the delight of the whole party; him, he grasped his instrument, started up, and and on the following morning, a gold snuff-box on the instant perpetuated the conception which was duly presented to him, with a few comotherwise he would have lost forever. This plimentary words engraved on the lid. marvelous 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

66

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 even ing, 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 Lees' country house, near Blackrock, and expressed a wish to get an evening from the great violinist, to gratify his domestic circle. The

A year or two after this, when Paganini was again in England, I thought another engagement might be productive, as his extraordinary attraction appeared still to increase. I wrote to him on the subject, and soon received a very courteous communication, to the effect, that, although he had not contemplated including Ireland in his tour, yet he had been so impressed by the urbanity of the Dublin public, and had, moreover, conceived such a personal esteem for my individual character, that he might be induced to alter his plans, at some inconvenience, provided always I could make him a more enticing proposal than the former one. I was here completely puzzled, as, on that occa sion, I gave him a clear two-thirds of each receipt, with a bonus of £25 per night, in addition, for two useless coadjutors. I replied, that

QUINDECIM ANNOS NATA, CHELSEIÆ INCEPTVS. ham requited me; saying, in his kind, generous

HEARDE mother say to for ye king's physi

[EARDE mother say to Barbara, "Be sure village."

cian" which avised me that Dr. Linacre was expected. In truth, he returned with father in ye barge; and they tooke a turn on ye river bank before sitting down to table; I noted them They cannot even bid a smoking sirloin refrom my lattice; and anon, father, beckoning tain its heat an hour after it hath left the fire,” me, cries, "Child, bring out my favorite Treat-sayth father. "Tilly-vally! as my good Alice yse on Fisshynge, printed by Wynkyn de Worde; I must give the doctor my loved passage."

ther's t... a man who owed him money and who | being Lord Chancellor at ye leaste." "Well, put him off with "Memento Morieris." “I bid | wife, I forgive thee for not saying at the most. you," retorted father, "Memento Mori Eris, and I wish you woulde take as goode care to provide for ye one as I do for the other."

Linacre laughed much at this, and sayd,"That was real wit; a spark struck at the moment; and with noe ill-nature in it, for I am sure your debtor coulde not help laughing." "Not he," quoth Erasmus. "More's drollerie is like that of a young gentlewoman of his name, which shines without burning." and, oddlie enow, he looked acrosse at me. I with much care. "Give ye good den, Mistress

a boy, and at last she had one that means to nel headed the Persians, and Will was Leoni remain a boy alle his life."

"The Dutch schoolmasters thoughte me dulle and heavie," sayth Erasmus, 'soe there is some hope of Jacky yet." And soe, stepped into ye barge, which we watched to Chelsea Reach. How dulle the house has beene ever since! Rupert and William have had me into ye pavillion to hear ye plot of a miracle-play they have alreadie begunne to talk over for Christmasse, but it seemed to me downrighte rubbish. Father sleeps in towne to-nighte, soe we shall be stupid enow. Bessy hath undertaken to work father a slipper for his tender foot; and is happie, tracing for ye pattern our three moor-cocks and colts; but I am idle and tiresome.

If I had paper, I woulde beginne my projected opus; but I dare not ask Gunnel for anie more just yet; nor have anie money to buy 'some. I wish I had a couple of angels. I think I shall write to father for them to-morrow; he alwaies likes to heare from us if he is twentyfour hours absent, providing we conclude not with "I have nothing more to say."

I have writ my letter to father. wish, now, that I had not sent it.

I almoste

Rupert and Will still full of theire moralitie, which reallie has some fun in it. To ridicule ye extravagance of those who, as the saying is, carry theire farms and fields on theire backs, William proposes to come in, all verdant, with a reall model of a farm on his back and a windmill on his head.

How sweete, how gracious an answer from father! John Harris has broughte me with it ye two angels; less prized than this epistle.

das, with a swashing buckler, and a helmet a yard high; but Mr. Gunnel gave him such a rap on the crest that it went over ye wall; soe then William thought there was nothing left for him but to die. Howbeit, as he had beene layd low sooner than he had reckoned on, he prolonged his last agonies a goode deal, and gave one of ye Persians a tremendous kick just as they were aboute to rifle his pouch. They there. fore thoughte there must be somewhat in it they shoulde like to see; soe, helde him down in spite of his hitting righte and lefte, and pulled therefrom, among sundrie lesser matters, a carnation knot of mine. Poor varlet, I wish he would not be so stupid..

....

After supper, mother proposed a concert; and we were alle singing a rounde, when, looking up, I saw father standing in ye door-way, with such a happy smile on his face! He was close behind Rupert and Daisy, who were singing from ye same book, and advertised them of his coming by gentlie knocking theire heads together; but I had the firste kiss, even before mother, because of my birthdaye.

It turns out that father's lateness yester-even was caused by press of businesse; a forayn mission having beene proposed to him, which he resisted as long as he could, but was at lengthe reluctantlie induced to accept. Length of his stay uncertayn, which casts a gloom on alle; but there is soe much to doe as to leave little time to think, and father is busiest of alle; yet hath founde leisure to concert with mother for us a journey into y country, which will occupy some of ye weeks of his absence. I am full of carefulle thoughts and forebodings, being naturallie of too anxious a disposition. Oh, let me caste alle my cares on another! Fecisti nos ad te, Domine; et inquietum est cor nos

July 10. Sixteenth birthdaye. Father away, which | trum, donec requiescat in te. made it sadde. Mother gave me a payr of blue hosen with silk clocks; Mr. Gunnel, an ivorie handled stylus; Bess, a bodkin for my hair; Daisy, a book-mark; Mercy, a saffron cake; Jack, a basket; and Cecil, a nosegay. William's present was fayrest of alle, but I am hurte with him and myselfe; for he offered it soe queerlie and tagged it with such . . . . I refused it, and there's an end. 'Twas unmannerlie and unkinde of me, and I've cried aboute it since.

Father alwaies gives us a birthdaye treat; soe, contrived that mother shoulde take us to see my Lord Cardinal of York goe to Westminster in state. We had a merrie water-party; got goode places and saw the show; crossebearers, pillar-bearers, ushers and alle. Himselfe in crimson engrayned satti, and tippet of sables, with an orange in his hand helde to 's nose, as though ye common ayr were too vile to breathe. What a pompous priest it is! The archbishop mighte well say, "That man is drunk with too much prosperitie."

Between dinner and supper, we had a fine kirmish in ye straits of Thermopyla. Mr. Gun

'Tis soe manie months agone since that I made an entry in my libellus, as that my motto-"nulla dies sine linea," hath somewhat of sarcasm in it. How manie things doe I beginne and leave unfinisht! and yet, less from caprice than lack of strength; like him of whom ye scripture was writ-"this man beganne to build and was not able to finish." My opus, for instance; the which my father's prolonged absence in ye autumn and my winter visitt to aunt Nan and aunt Fan gave me such leisure to carrie forward. But alack! leisure was less to secke than learninge; and when I came back to mine olde taskes, leisure was awanting too; and then, by reason of my sleeping in a separate chamber, I was enabled to steale hours from ye earlie morn and hours from ye night, and, like unto Solomon's virtuous woman, my candle went not out. But 'twas not to purpose yt 1 worked, like y virtuous woman, for I was following a Jack-o-lantern; having forsooke ye straight path laid downe by Erasmus for a foolish path of mine owne; and soe I toyled

theire oars. And then I beganne to attend to ye cries and different sounds from acrosse y water, and ye tolling of a distant tell; and I felle back on mine olde heart-sighinge, "Fecisti nos ad te, Domine; et inquietum est cor nostrum, donec requiescat in te."

and blundered, and puzzled, and was mazed; and then came on that payn in my head. Father sayd, "What makes Meg soe pale!" and I sayd not: and, at ye last, I tolde mother there was somewhat throbbing and twisting in ye back of mine head like unto a little worm that woulde not die; and she made answer, "Ah, a maggot," and soe by her scoff I was shamed. Then I gave over mine opus, but ye payn did not yet goe; soe then I was longing for ye deare pleasure, and fondlie turning over ye leaves, and wondering woulde father be surprised and pleased with it some daye, when father himself came in or ever I was aware. He sayth, "What hast thou, Meg?" I faltered and would sett it aside. He sayth, "Nay, let me see;" and soe takes it from me; and after ye firste glance throws himself into a seat, his back to me, and firste runs it hastilie through, then beginnes with methode and such silence and gravitie as that I trembled at his side, and felt what it must be to stand a prisoner at the bar, and he ye judge. Sometimes I thought he must be pleased, at others not: at lengthe, alle my fond hopes were ended by his crying, "This will never doe. Poor wretch, hath this then beene thy toyl? How couldst find time for soe much labor? for here hath been trouble enow and to spare. Thou must have stolen it, sweet Meg, from the night, and prevented ye morning watch. Most dear'st! thy father's owne loved child;"will out, 'gan talk of what we would fayn have and soe, caressing me till I gave over my shame and disappointment.

"I neede not to tell thee, Meg," father sayth, "of ye unprofitable labour of Sisyphus, nor of drawing water in a sieve. There are some things, most deare one, that a woman, if she trieth, may doe as well as a man; and some she can not, and some she had better not, Now, I tell thee firmlie, since ye first payn is ye leaste sharpe, that, despite y° spiritt and genius herein shewn, I am avised 'tis work thou canst not and work thou hadst better not doe. But judge for thyselfe; if thou wilt persist, thou shalt have leisure and quiet, and a chamber in ny new building, and alle yo help my gallery of books may afford. But thy father says, forbear."

Soe, what could I say, but "My father shall never speak to me in vayn !"

Then he gathered ye papers up and sayd, "Then I shall take temptation out of your way;" and pressing 'em to his heart as he did soe, sayth, "They are as deare to me as they can be to you ;" and soe left me, looking out as though I noted (but I noted not), the clearshining Thames. 'Twas twilighte, and I stoode there I know not how long, alone and lonely; with tears coming, I knew not why, into mine eyes. There was a weight in ye ayr, as of coming thunder; the screaming, ever and anon, of Juno and Argus, inclined me to mellancholie, as it alwaies does: and at length I beganne to note y moon rising, and ye deepening clearnesse of ye water, and ye lazy motion of ye barges, and ye flashes of light whene'er y rowers dipt VOL. III.-No. 13.-D

Or ever the week was gone, my father had contrived for me another journey to New Hall, to abide with the lay nuns, as he calleth them, aunt Nan and aunt Fan, whom my step-mother loveth not, but whom I love and whom father loveth. Indeede, 'tis sayd in Essex that at first he inclined to aunt Nan rather than to my mother; but that, perceiving my mother affected his companie and aunt Nan affected it not, he diverted his hesitating affections unto her and took her to wife. Albeit, aunt Nan loveth him dearlie as a sister ought: indeed, she loveth alle, except, methinketh, herself, to whom. alone, she is rigid and severe. How holie are my aunts' lives! Cloistered nuns could not be more pure, and could scarce be as usefulle. Though wise, they can be gay; though noe longer young, they love the young. And theire reward is, the young love them; and I am fulle sure, in this world they seeke noe better. Returned to Chelsea, I spake much in prayse of mine aunts, and of single life. On a certayn evening, we maids were sett at our needles and samplers on ye pavillion steps; and, as follie

to our lots, shoulde a good fairie starte up and grant eache a wish. Daisy was for a countess's degree, with hawks and hounds. Bess was for founding a college, Mercy a hospital, and she spake soe experimentallie of its conditions that I was fayn to goe partners with her in the same. Cecy commenced "Supposing I were married; if once that I were married"-on which, father, who had come up unperceived, burst out laughing and sayth, "Well, dame Cecily, and what state would you keep ?" Howbeit as he and 1 afterwards paced together, juxta fluvium, he did say, "Mercy hath well propounded the conditions of an hospital or alms-house for aged and sick folk, and 'tis a fantasie of mine to sett even such an one afoot, and give you the conduct of the same." ""

From this careless speech, dropped, as 'twere, by y way, hath sprung mine house of refuge! and oh, what pleasure have I derived from it! How good is my father! how the poor bless him! and how kind is he, through them, to me! Laying his hand kindly on my shoulder, this morning, he sayd, "Meg, how fares it with thee now? Have I cured the payn in thy head ?" Then, putting the house-key into mine hand, he laughingly added, "'Tis now yours, my joy, by Livery and Seisin."

Aug. 6.

I wish William wd give me back my Testament. Tis one thing to steal a knot or a posie, and another to borrow ye most valuable book in ye house and keep it week after week. He soughte it with a kind of mysterie, soe as that I forbeare to ask it of him in companie, lest 1