When Louis Spohr was in London in 1820, he tells us, in his Autobiography, he received a letter couched in the following terms: "Mr. Spohr is requested to call upon Dr. ---- to-day at four o'clock." "As I did not know the name of the writer," he proceeds to relate, "nor could ascertain from the servant the purpose for which my attendance was requested, I replied, in the same laconic tone, 'At the hour named I am engaged, and cannot come.' The next morning the servant reappeared, bearing a second and more polite note: 'Mr. Spohr is requested to favour Dr. ---- with a visit, and to appoint the hour when it will be convenient for him to call.' The servant had been instructed to offer me the use of his master's carriage, and having in the meantime discovered that the gentleman was a celebrated physician, a patron of music, and a lover of Violins, I drove to his house. A courteous old gentleman with grey hair met me on the stairs. Unfortunately he neither understood French nor German, consequently we were unable to converse together. We stood for a moment somewhat embarrassed, when he took my arm and led me into a large room, on the walls of which hung a great number of Violins. Other Violins had been removed from their cases and placed on the tables. The Doctor gave me a Violin-bow, and pointed to the instruments. I now perceived that he was desirous of having my opinion of the instruments. I, therefore, played upon them, and placed them in order, according to my idea of their merit. When I had selected the six most valuable ones, I played upon them alternately in order to discover the best of the half-dozen. Perceiving that the doctor cast upon one instrument glances especially tender whenever I played upon it, I gladly afforded the good old man pleasure by declaring it to be the best Violin. When I took my hat to leave, the old gentleman, with a kind smile, slipped a five-pound note into my hand. Astonished, I looked at it, and also at the Doctor, not knowing at first what he meant; but suddenly it occurred to me that it was intended as a fee for having examined his Violins. I smilingly shook my head, laid the note on the table, pressed the Doctor's hand, and descended the stairs. Some months later, upon the occasion of my benefit concert, the Doctor procured a ticket, for which he sent a ten-pound note." THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD AND THE VIOLIN.