at
is called a shooting board--a board, as you may observe, upon which,
near one end, is inserted, right across it from edge to edge, a
piece of wood, square with the length, to serve as a stop against
which I press what it will be convenient to call one half of the
roof of a house, fig. 1, plate 12, lengthwise, which serves to
illustrate one half of the belly, thickest edge, of course, on a
square with the edge running along by where rests a very choice
trying plane, on its side, tool touching this plate, which I hold
with my left hand firmly, whilst I _shoot_ the said plane from end
to end of the half belly, fig. 2, plate 12. This I repeat on the
other half, and then hold them together, flat side towards me, as I
raise the two to a strong light, and if no glimmer whatever creeps
between the joint, then I call the two plates perfectly united, and
ready for the glue to make this absolute. But if they do not appear
as I intimate, then you must operate until this very important part
of your work be strictly that of a perfect whole; for, remember, as
a whole the two parts must remain for as long as the violin holds
together, which may be for two hundred years over and above the
years that shall be given to you who make it; and this alone should
be an incentive to good work.

[Illustration: PLATE XII.]

We now arrive at this joining of the wood for the soundboard, and
the glue to be used must be of the best. Not too thin, but
sufficiently so to drop freely from the brush used, and clear whilst
being tenacious, as felt by pressure between finger and thumb.

As you may observe, I place one half of the wood in the vice of the
bench, and on this, the other half (fig. 3, plate 12). With the hot
glue to my right hand, I take the loose half of the wood in my left,
and hold it against the one fixed in the bench, and upon the two
broad centres or outside edges thus exposed, I work rapidly a good
layer of the glue, and then, placing them on each other again, I
move them very firmly backwards and forwards, and so they are
united, remaining in the bench until set.

My dear friends, it is not to be supposed you will do this
exceedingly difficult piece of business even moderately well at
first; but you will have to do it somehow as a commencement, and I
hope I have made all clear to you. Think the thing well over; see
your way well ahead; and I am quite sure your success will be
commensurate with your endeavour.

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