their work is totally inadequate. The case of modern Violin-makers is unfortunate. Old Violins being immeasurably superior to modern productions, the demand must necessarily set steadily for the former, and the modern maker has only the few patrons of new work to support him. It cannot be expected that the players of to-day should patronise the modern Violin in order that the next generation should reap the benefit. Years since it was quite a different matter. The makers were well paid for their work, and new instruments were then made to supply wants similar to those which the horrid Mirecourt or Saxon copy fulfils at present. As with other things, so is it also with Violins; if they are to be produced with the stamp of artistic merit, they must be paid for accordingly; without patronage the worker necessarily becomes careless. Finding that his skill fails to attract attention, he gradually sinks down into the mere routine of the ordinary workman. When Italy shone brightest in art, the patronage and remuneration which the workers received was considerable. Had it been otherwise, the powers of its Raffaele, its Cellini, and last (though not least to the admirers of the Violin), its Stradivari, would have remained simply dormant. Art, like commerce, is regulated in a great measure by supply and demand. In Raffaele's day, sacred subjects were in demand; the Church was his great patron, and aided him in bringing forth the gift which nature had implanted within him. In modern times, landscape-painting became the favoured subject, particularly in England; the result of which preference has been to place us in the foremost rank in that branch of art. The stage furnishes another instance of the effect that patronage has in bringing forth latent talent. If the history of dramatic art be traced, it will be found that its chief works were written when the taste of an appreciative public could be securely counted upon. As it waned, so the writers of merit became rarer; or perhaps it would be more correct to say, the plays produced became less meritorious, the authors being constrained to pander to the prevailing tastes. As further evidence of the effect of patronage on art, a case in point is found in the manufacture of Venetian glass. The Venetians, centuries ago, became famous for their works in glass, and the patronage they enjoyed was world-wide; but their country being thrown into an unsettled condition, capital drifted from it, until the blowing of glass, together with other industries, was comparatively extinguished. Within recent years the art of making glass has shown signs, even in Venice itself, of reviving with all its former vigour in the workshops of Salviati, the success of which is due in great measure to English capital.