Apart from their many wonderful qualities as bows, they are quite exceptional as works of art. Study the four heads shown in Plates V. and VI., and note the tender sweep of the outer line; full of force and delicacy combined. See, too, how it is supported by the harmonious inner line, a thought more rigid, and yet full of grace. To become an expert in bows requires years of continual observation, for the slight differences in line are too subtle to be apparent to those who are not constantly looking for and studying them. But I think anyone, even "ye meanest capacitie in ye world"--to quote good old Roger North--will be able to appreciate the contrast between the bow heads in Plates III. and IV., and those in Plates V. and VI. It is in the two 'cello bow heads that the greatest resemblance is seen. But even here one can easily note the unwonted massiveness, almost amounting to clumsiness, in that of Dodd; while the Tourte is full of lightness, strength and vigour. There is more or less of sluggishness observable in most of the preceding bows, but the Tourte is _awake_; it lives! It is at times of great interest to note by what slender threads of chance great consequences may be suspended. Take the family of the Tourtes for instance. We find the father a worthy craftsman making bows as good, and possibly better, than those of his contemporaries. He, obeying a natural law of custom, educated his eldest son in his own craft, and probably looked to him to perpetuate those excellencies in design and finish that had brought him fame. Francois, the younger son, was not forgotten though, and the father bethought him of some useful industry at which he might earn a living, and decided on clockmaking as the most suitable. Now mark the erratic workings of fate. The eldest son, from whom so much was expected, proved a comparative failure, inasmuch as that, instead of progressing, his work was distinctly inferior to that of his father.[1] Francois, on the other hand, became tired of clockmaking after eight years' ill-remunerated grind, and turned his attention to the family trade. [Footnote 1: The few fine bows by "Tourte-l'aine," as he was called, I should think were made after his brother's success in this direction.] He, like Dodd, was totally uneducated, but had great gifts of perception and judgment. At this time violin playing was becoming every day more distinctive and prominent. Great players were beginning to understand the _chiar oscuro_ of music. They were learning expression. There was in general amongst violinists an anticipation of the grand, yet simple law set forth by De Beriot in his Violin School that the human voice was the pure archetype upon which all _played_ music should be modelled.