There is a word—too seldom heard—_not_ dear to young Ambition— But wholesome in its discipline,—that word is “_repetition_.” Content to glimmer ere you shine, leap not beyond your bounds! From small beginnings rise great ends—’tis _pence_ that make up _pounds_. From exercise to exercise, progressive, through your book Work on-scales, intervals, and all—how _dry_ soe’er they look; Nor jerk forth scraps, or odds and ends, of ev’ry tune that floats;— Can any foolery be worse than scatt’ring of _loose notes_? Let not thy steps untutored move! A master’s ready skill For safety and for succour seek, to curb or point thy will! _Plain_ work precedes all _ornament_: keep graces for a late Achievement, since you first must _build_, ere you can _decorate_. Think _elegance_ a pretty thing, but _breadth_ a vast deal better; Nor, for the sake of lesser charms, your larger movements fetter. It is the pride of players great, a free and dashing _bow_, As, borne along on waves of sound, to their success they go! _Corelli_ old, contemn thou not! Substantial, good, and plain, He’s like a round of British beef—he’s “cut-and-come-again!” But, as the interval is wide, you need not—_nota bene_— You need not travel _all_ the road ’twixt _him_ and _Paganini_. In fiddle-practice, as in life, are difficulties _gifts_? Yes—_double stops_ are just the thing to drive thee to thy _shifts_! “Bating no jot of heart or hope,” toil, till, in time’s process, The music that is in thy soul, thy fiddle shall express! CHAPTER IX. ON THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE VIOLIN. It is a very natural curiosity which engages us to look minutely into the structural peculiarities of that which is a medium for awakening pleasurable sensations within us. The balloon that has borne us aloft into aerial altitudes—and the violin that, under the management of a Vieuxtemps or a Sivori, has transported us, through varying acoustic currents, into the sublimer regions of harmony—are, each, the object of a close and willingly conceded attention. Quitting the balloon, however, and confining ourselves to the violin—_what_ (let us enquire) are the component parts that make up the “form and pressure,” the “complement extern” and intern, of this material ministrant to our joys and sympathies;—_what_, also, are the several most remarkable patterns, or models, of the _completed_ instrument;—and _who_ were the originators, respectively, of those varieties of conformation? This latter point of enquiry will lead us to advert, before concluding this chapter, to certain innovations that have been attempted, with more or less felicity, in our own days.