spread abroad in numerous editions and translations, and was for many years the only published instruction on the art of violin-playing; proof enough that it rendered important service in its day, as far as technical knowledge was concerned. What makes the book still interesting to us is the earnest, intelligent spirit which speaks from it, and shows us the man as he was. He sought to impart to his pupils a sound, practical musical education; they were not only to practise their fingers, but were always clearly to, understand _what_ they had to execute and _why_: "It is dispiriting to go on playing at random, without knowing what you are about" (p. 245); a good violinist should even be practised in rhetoric and poetry to be able to execute with intelligence (p. 107). He insists strongly that the pupil should not advance until he is quite able for what he has to learn: "In this consists the gravest error that either master or pupil can fall into. The former often lack patience to wait for the right time; or they let themselves be carried away by the pupil, who thinks he has done wonders when he can scrape out a minuet or two. Often, too, the parents or guardians of the beginner are anxious to hear him play some of these imperfect tunes, and think, with satisfaction how well their money has been spent on the lessons. How greatly they are mistaken!" (p.57, cf. 121.) The study is not to be made too easy or simple; the learner must exert himself and work hard. Thus he writes at the beginning of the exercises (p. 90): "These are the passages for practice. The more distasteful they are, the better I shall be pleased; I have striven to make them so"; that is, to guard against their being played from memory. The same ability is displayed in his principles of taste. He exacts above all a "straightforward, manly tone"; "nothing can be more absurd than to seem afraid even to grasp the violin firmly; or just to touch the strings with the bow (held perhaps with two fingers), and to attempt such an artistic up-bow to the very nut of the violin that only a note here and there is heard in a whisper, without any idea what it means, it is all so like a dream" (p. 101). {CHILDHOOD.} (14)