157.—AN INTERRUPTED CONCERT.
Paganini had a cowardly horror of England, due to some peculiar experiences he had while there. He had a great deal of pride and egotism, and continually suspected other violinists—jealous of his fame and ability—of wishing to assassinate him.
When he was besought to go to France, he would have declined from this fear of assassination, had he not been told that he would accumulate great riches from the trip; but finally his avarice overcame his cowardice.
One of the circumstances that made him dislike England was an experience he had in London. One night, in the midst of a brilliant concert, a respectable citizen arose from his seat, and facing the audience, interrupted the proceedings with the following impromptu speech:
"Gentlemen, do you not blush at spending a guinea to come and hear a miserable player, a mountebank, who knows only how to get sounds out of a wooden box, mounted with catgut? Could you not make better use of your money? Would you not do better to give it to the poor? Look at that big charlatan, who is just like the devil; he laughs at your simplicity and puts your money into his pockets. You are a set of fools!"
Hardly had he finished this tirade, when Paganini, greatly frightened and thinking he was followed by assassins, had fled from the concert hall and was on his way to Manchester.