parts coming into contact with the instrument. No end of damage has been done at all times by neglect of this simple precaution. Many gems from the old masters that would otherwise have been matchless, are disfigured by an array of semi-circular dents or bruises near the border. This is particularly noticeable when the arching springs rather abruptly from a narrow channel and near the purfling, or the rise commences from the border without channelling. Here is shown the wisdom of the earlier Italian masters when introducing the channelled model, the hollowing being a preservation against damage by the impetuous repairer. Many otherwise excellent workers are heavy handed, pressing all parts together very tightly but not more securely. Good joints, cleanly and accurately cut, the surfaces kept clean and not overloaded with good glue, are the best for lasting, and of course for appearance.

Before leaving that part of our subject which is connected with damages to the violin resulting from want of precaution or thoughtlessness, it may be as well to refer to a frequent cause of disaster, often well nigh ruin, by the use of badly fitting and badly constructed cases. Innumerable as have been the varieties of style, shape and arrangement of violin cases, there is still an opportunity for a new, good and useful one that shall combine all or most of the requirements as regards utility, portability, preservativeness and nice appearance. Those in use for travelling with during the last century and the early part of this, had the disadvantage of heaviness, besides their rounded forms which prevented their being placed with a flat side downwards on a shelf or convenient horizontal surface without some unsteady rolling; also being often studded with brass nails like a coffin, a very grave objection (diagram 4). The leather cases which require the instrument to be placed in sideways have the advantage of giving good protection against rain, but there is insufficient defence against accidental violence; they are, further, more expensive than the foreign boxes made of poplar wood, which are light and of sufficient strength when carefully made. There was one good thing about the ancient cases, however, the violin being inserted at the large end, the performer knew at once whether the case was sufficiently capacious for the instrument. Not so with those in common use at the present time, opening as a box. To these may be laid the charge of causing an immense amount of irreparable injury to numbers of violins of any standard of excellence or costliness. This in the way mostly of depressions—"wells" as they are termed by repairers—where the feet of the bridge rest. These are caused by the lid of the case coming down on to the hard wood of the bridge and pressing its feet like dies, into the comparatively softer pine (diagram 5). It is a disfigurement to the violin and is sometimes in a bungling manner altered by inlaying—badly in most instances—square pieces of wood to bring the surface level. This kind of damage to the violin has been attributed to the prolonged pressure on the upper table by the strings being stretched up to modern pitch, but this is a mistake, no strings at all playable would press sufficiently hard and directly downwards to produce this result. The double-cases in use are worse than the single, as they are necessarily stronger and heavier. Both present the same difficulties in estimating whether the violin with its bridge is too high for the roof inside when the lid is closed. A good way of testing it is by rubbing a little soft white chalk over the top of the bridge and then gently shutting the lid down, which also should show no indisposition to do so; if on lifting the lid any of the white chalk is seen to have changed places and got on to the lining of the lid, put aside at once and for ever the condemned case as being an unfit receptacle for your cherished Cremona. Further, if the fit is at all tight, do not use pressure but get another case, your violin would be a very bad one indeed for your sympathies to fall in with a horrible suggestion once made by the maker of a too closely fitting case for his friend's instrument, that he should be allowed to take a shaving or two off the violin, it would then go in nicely. As some excuse for this maker he was not an amateur in this line, but a professional undertaker.

DIAGRAM 4.

DIAGRAM 5.

We may now shift our ground and notice another source of the complaint—rattles, jars, chatters, or grunts, which ever may appear the most appropriate title for another variety of annoyance to the performer. Having found out with our felt-headed hammer, or if that is not easily obtainable, a slender stick may be covered at the end with almost any soft material enclosed within a piece of chamois or soft leather, and tied so as to form a knob like a small drumstick. Having tested the violin with it in the manner before referred to, and there being no bad reports from the body of the instrument, the hurt, seat of injury, or lesion, may be in the neck, fingerboard, or even the scroll, any part being liable to give out its undesirable note, or interfere with the proper emission of musical tone from the strings. There is no portion of the violin that will not under certain provocations join too willingly in the production of unwelcome sounds if the exciting conditions are present—those of checked vibration, or vibration that should be checked. An unsuspected cause may be discovered by the tapping test to be lurking unseen, and often unfelt, till one note being struck in unison or sympathy with the affected spot, may cause it to speak in a decided manner. This is at the part where the fingerboard parts from the neck over the instrument towards the bridge—the rather thin glue, as it should be—may, through damp or other causes, have lost its hold for but a short distance, and not be evident while the fingers are pressing the strings over the part; but when notes are struck nearer towards the nut, the pressure is relieved and the fingerboard free to take its own part. This, although a trifle in itself, requires for its cure proper attention with suitable appliances.

After the removal of the strings, the first suggestion naturally occurring will be to insert, with the blade of a knife, some glue and leave it to dry. This is more likely than not to make matters worse, as it should always be borne in mind that glued surfaces always require pressing together, however well they may fit. Glue contracts as it dries, and in the process apparently disperses and clings to any other bodies rather than to itself. To put this in another way, if air is allowed to insinuate itself between the two surfaces which it is desirable to bring into closest conjunction, the contraction, particularly if good, while in progress, will cause a separation in the central mass of the glue, while the two surfaces will be left as before, independent of each other, but more clogged. Pressure must therefore be invariably brought to bear behind the opposing parts, so as to drive out the air from between and prevent its re-admission—the necessity of an exact correspondence of the parts will be obvious—at the same time the glue is to some degree forced into the pores of the surfaces, and when the moisture has dispersed among the myriads of cells composing the structural growth of the wood and finally evaporates from the external ones, the glue, having hardened, will hold the parts