f it, keeping my ear near to that nodal point where I know will
come the inner bout, or D of the violin, consequently the bridge,
which I mark with a X. The tick-tack of the watch varies in strength
as I get farther from or nearer to a nodal point, as, of course, it
was bound to do; but, from experience, it is a fine-toned piece of
wood. I detach it from the glass rod, and I try it by my finger and
thumb test, and the vibrations and their quality are all I could
desire. The signs of age appear genuine: the small pieces I cut from
it do not give out any smell which they should not, and I pronounce
the wood honest. I try the two whole backs, on the slab: both are
good, one very fine in tone and handsome in appearance, which I
finally select for the violin about to be made.

Well, but you may say, in all your experiments, it appears to us the
result is a question of degree. Exactly, a question of degree, as
purity of air is, but who chooses the foul when he can live in the
pure? As with flowers in their unassuming simplicity up to such
elegance of form, colour and fragrance, that we stand amazed before
them! As with man, from the worse than bestial state to which
intemperance and crime have brought him, to the calm majesty of that
eminence, attained only by the love of truth, of self-government,
and scorn of evil-doing!

This question of degree strikes at the root of the whole subject
before you: for, upon how you answer it, or to what person or
persons you repair for guidance in the selection of wood (being
novices), will depend in a great measure your success or failure in
the instrument yet unmade.

The upper table or belly, made of pine, Swiss pine by preference, is
the most important factor in the production of tone, consequently
that to which the chief attention of the artist should be directed.
No matter how good be his back or his ribs, or the sweep of his
lines or curves, or quality of his varnish and its elasticity or its
superb colour, the selection of wood for his upper table or belly,
or soundboard, must be his chief concern, and neither money nor
energy spared to secure the best.

Well, I have by me several, of various degrees of excellence, and
some of very doubtful reputation; nay, I may at once say they are
bad--even by their look they are bad. This one is fairly straight in
the grain, but it has been dried artificially, not as were the
backs, yet more wickedly treated--impregnated with a deleterious