If people only knew how much the strength of the neck has to do with the tone of the instrument, they would leave to the maker or expert to determine what was best for it, either in the original making of the violin or in placing a new neck in an old one. But it is _convenience_--what we like and what we _will have_; so, in consequence, suffers the tone of the instrument.

You have a violin thick in wood: if I find on it a neck also heavy in material, to a certainty I have to register thin, woody tone; whereas, given a thinner neck there would be more vibration in it, and an undoubted impetus would be given to the somewhat inert body of the violin--its heavy timber being too much for the ma.s.s of air, which acts its part in that it moves in response to compulsion, but fails, in producing so feeble an agitation of the whole wood.

But, on the other hand, I find a thin neck attached to a thin body, and I also find a whole pack of wolves, hollow, rasping tone, and difficult of production--in fact, a wretched fiddle.

Then, as to width of fingerboard--a narrow one is often clung to as "so nice and handy," etc., but it is forgotten that the strings in consequence have to be brought closer together than clean fingering requires; and, moreover, the E string must, of necessity, be brought too near the edge of the ebony for firm stopping; so I have no sympathy whatever with a narrow or too thin fingerboard and neck.

But I have to work away at the rough neck after having traced the outline of the b.u.t.ton upon the under end of it--not the _actual_ shape of this necessity, but such as will serve as a guide to one of more grace. Added to that, I roughly mark the shape and thickness of the wood up to which I have to cut away, to insure nice handling. To this line I cut with bow saw 68; and I then use all the knives I have, and many files--rasps in the early stages--until I get to the _shape_ I want, after which I wet with a sponge, renewing the work when dry with finer files and gla.s.s-paper, No. 1-1/2, making a second stage, then wet again, to two more stages, when all _should_ be very clean and nice. Of course, I round the fingerboard's edges somewhat, and clean on each occasion of wetting. When finished, the neck should measure round thick end (one and a half inches from extreme end of wood), three and a half inches; and round thin end (one inch from peg-box) three inches. This finishes the neck, which is now ready for insertion in the violin.

I have, above, treated of this: I now do it actually. I have wood guard 31 ready for protection of fingerboard, and 32, for the back, and one of No. 11 cramps. I dab the neck and the cutting with hot strong glue, and gently work them together, until the glue oozes out at all points, when I put on the wood guards and clamp hard. Then I wash the superfluous glue away with a sponge wrung out of hot water, after I have tested whether I have got in the neck straight and at its correct angle. (See fig. 27.)

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE XXVII.]

But there is the neat finishing off of the neck and b.u.t.ton, which I attend to carefully, when all is set hard on the following day, paying much heed to grace and _character_ here, as it is a part of the fiddle which cries out at once if slovenly, or ungainly, or the _least bit_ out of line or centre.

And I fashion the nut over which the tail-piece gut has to stretch, and cut the bed into which it is glued. Then I very carefully wash the violin all over with a clean sponge wrung out of _warm_ water, giving it plenty of time to dry before I finally clean every part thoroughly with No. 0 gla.s.s-paper--and the violin is finished in the white.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE XXVIII.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE XXIX.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE x.x.x.]

CHAPTER XVI.

OF VARNISH AND VARNISHING.

To write an exhaustive essay on this most absorbing subject before us, to go into any manner of detail at all in the present work, is not my intention. It is far too wide, too subtle, and, in my opinion, is an art of itself, requiring not only great s.p.a.ce in which to voice its merits, its component parts, and the thousand and one compounds in which those parts a.s.similate, but the calm of the study rather than the bustle of the workshop, given out deliberately by him whose conclusions are based on the sound issues arising from momentous research, careful a.n.a.lysis of former old examples, and an utter abhorrence of prejudice, for or against this or that compound or colour--prejudice, mind, actuating choice.

But in continuation, though somewhat in parenthesis, a choice based on determined observation of a matter is quite another thing; and I tell you at once my experience as between spirit and oil varnish condemns the former, whilst it very strongly advocates the latter; and when one considers that it is in the nature of oil to a.s.similate with wood, and to throw up its beauties, and whilst a mellowness clings to the very name, the reverse on all points being the case with spirit, the surprise is that varnish other than of oil should be tolerated.

Besides, see the difference in wear. Use a violin coated with spirit, and if the friction from its employment be severe, you have cracks, pieces chipping here and there, the instrument getting barer and barer daily, so that in time little of it, the varnish, is left.

But it is not so with oil; the wear _is_ wear, not in chips, but in gradual diminishing of its substance, always a something being left; added to which a beauty springs from such, in that softer gradations of colour radiate and form a greater _depth_, from the fact of such colour or colours being more readily absorbed.

Again, in their relations to Tone, I place the oil varnishes first; and I think the point is pretty generally conceded, for what is on the face _power_, which some attribute to the brittle, a.s.sertive nature of the gums hardened by alcohol, is not in reality such, but often aggressive noise, losing itself the more you retreat from it, leaving real tone little to say for itself.

But coat the violin with oil; you certainly cannot complain of loud, rasping responses to the call of the bow, whilst you _can_ make some a.s.sertion as to quality. And, remember, as the soft nature of the oil a.s.sumes a harder tendency day by day, so will increase the sonority of the tones, whilst retaining the beauty of character with which they began. Therefore, I shall draw your attention to the use of oil varnish, utterly discarding that of spirit.

But to _what_ oil varnish is not my present purpose; why should I seek to close the door on research and on experiment? It is for you, students, to take home, each one of you, the lesson of the mighty failure of thousands gone before you, in inability to bring to a finish that upon which they have spent so many anxious hours, and do something different and better. It is my intention to teach you, step by step, how to lay on what you prepare for the brush: but _not_ to say "get this or that oil," or "this or that colour,"

except in the abstract--red, orange, amber, yellow, etc., etc., being names only.

I say this at once so that there may be no mistake--so that none can say _I_ use this or that: my own varnish and colouring _are_ my own solely, and I reserve the secret for the benefit of my family, should it prove of value after my career be ended.

Fashion a piece of wood so that it fits easily into the hole at the end of the violin in which, later, the end pin is inserted. It must have a rough sort of handle, because by it you will hold the instrument when you have occasion otherwise than by the neck; for you must on no account touch the wood before you varnish, nor afterwards, with your hands, nor must you allow others to do so, when, in your pardonable pride of heart, you show your creation to your friends.

With a clean sponge, wrung out of tepid water, and a camel-hair brush for parts where the sponge will not be of service, go all over your violin, but do not wet it heavily--far from it; and when quite dry, on the slightly roughened surface thus left, place a yellow or amber coating of turpentine, thoroughly mixing with it a little of the oil varnish selected by you along with your colouring matter as you arrange, yellow or amber. To do this well, and for future use, you must have half to one inch flat camel-hair and fine hog-hair brushes. A round hog-hair brush, medium size, is good for this initial coating (some call it sizing; but I think this is misleading--"size" being generally understood to bear reference to glue, and we want none of _that_ under varnish.)

This should be dry in about two or three days, when you may lay on a second course, less turpentine and rather more varnish; also less yellow and a _very_ little red. This will take somewhat longer to dry, and please observe that the more varnish (if it be oil and gum, pure and simple) so much longer it will be in drying; and, as you advance to the final stage, you will gradually discard the turpentine altogether, as you will the yellow, colouring at last with red only.

As you advance step by step, and before you venture on another layer, with the tip of your finger test the varnish, and if there be the _least tackiness_, wait a day or two until all be dry. And as a roughness is bound to show itself as stage after stage is pa.s.sed, it is well to smooth down each course when dry with fine No. 0 gla.s.s-paper upon which is first spread a _drop_ of pure Lucca oil, which, of course, must be lightly applied to the body of varnish, and the whole carefully wiped with clean linen or silk handkerchief afterwards.

Now, after the first two coats, you must use about a three-quarter inch fine hog-hair brush (not many hairs in, mind) and for the later coats one with camel hair. Sit on a low chair, have the light to your right hand, the varnish before you handy, not too high. The violin is held by neck, left hand of course; the stick at the broad end through the hole where comes later the end pin (see above) rests on your right leg as you sit. Get a fair dip of varnish in your brush, but NEVER flood it; and beginning carefully under the fingerboard, first one side, then the other, working the top sides of the instrument also alternately, until the soundholes be reached, when inside these cuts must be neatly coloured, after which you just tip your brush with the varnish, neatly continuing where you leave off, so that none can see a break in your progress. This advice applies until ribs and scroll be all done after the belly and the back. I have ever found the upper table the most exacting and difficult; but, once again, _never flood your brush_, and you will varnish sooner or later. But never _hurry_: and this advice applies to every thing you do in the construction of the violin. Patience of no ordinary character you must exercise; if you have it not it will come to you, but through experience alone, through failures, through catastrophes innumerable. But what then? These things that have mastered you stand mastered in turn in the excellent result of to-day, so let yesterday go to the wall.

Now that we can consider the operation of varnishing at an end, the instrument is hung on a wire, free to the warm dry air of a room or to a pa.s.sage where a current of it is circulating. When hard (and there is no actual time to gauge this by) prepare to finish off and rub down the whole; and care must be observed that no scratch appears, for a surface looks bad, very bad, with anything of this sort to mar its beauty.

The first essential in this process is pure Lucca oil, which does not clagg; and the next, specially prepared pumice stone powder, which _must_ be as fine as flour; and should there be any doubt about its being absolutely free from specks of grit, filter it through fine muslin or silk, and only use that which pa.s.ses through, in water.

Then take some brown paper and make a pad, rubbing on oil and a sprinkling of the pumice stone powder, when you can go over portions of the back, very lightly feeling your way to see whether all works smoothly and no scratch in the operation. If this be so, continue on these lines, sparingly adding more powder, but freely using the oil.

You can, to smooth off, use saturated rag (oiled) and after that, a dry pad of very fine muslin or silk.

The belly is tedious, more so than the back, and the ribs still more so. Contrivances to get into corners and curves of the latter, you will have to resort to, such as small pieces of paper, and pumice stone and oil, and oiled fine gla.s.s-paper, and finely rubbed pieces of curved wood, with which you can operate to smooth near edges of ribs, etc.

All _can_ be done well, all _must_ be done well; for, remember, there is to be no French rubbish (polish, I mean), on the top of this oil varnish, but your hand must finally bring up its l.u.s.tre, as I can show you mine has so frequently brought to a rich glow that preparation made and used by me, on my own work only.

CHAPTER XVII.

FITTING UP FOR USE.

This last of many complicated and difficult stages must be entered upon with a will, and great attention paid to all details. The fittings used must be of the best, and the strings rough Roman, and must be tested to see if they vibrate truly. This is done by tw.a.n.ging, so that _two distinct outlines_ are shown; if any dimness appear, or the lines wobble, as I may say, try again, for such are false. Not always, though; for I _have_ known this rule (for it _is_ a rule) falsified, and a good string _appear_ untrue by test, and _vice versa_.

Take the Rimer, 15, and work out the peg-holes nicely; then fit ebony or rosewood pegs as you fancy, cutting off the superfluous pieces which obtrude on the off-side of peg-box. Apply a little soap and chalk to ensure close working when tuning.

Then on the nut, cut the narrow channels over which the strings have to pa.s.s to the fingerboard. A nice discrimination must be observed here as to the width from E to A to D to G. There can be no rule laid down, because some players will have them nearer together than others, and must, if for double stopping, they having narrow fingers; and on the contrary, wider apart, if for broader ended fingers. What I find a nice medium is seven-thirty-seconds of an inch from the bottom of one slot to another. Take the compa.s.s and divide to seven-thirty-seconds of an inch and press one point at G, D, A, E, allowing a fair margin at both sides of the ebony, not above, say one-eighth of an inch good. Then use either of the rat tail files, 27, and carefully file to depths required, which must be so as to allow a playing card to slip comfortably under the E string when taut, a little more s.p.a.ce for the other three being necessary, especially the G. Rub a black lead pencil through the cuts, and work them very smooth with a thin, round piece of steel, which makes all the strings much easier to slide afterwards and minimises breakage.

The nut must then be filed and sandpapered nicely down to the cuts, so as to leave only a shallow pa.s.sage, as one too deep r.e.t.a.r.ds free action of the string and somewhat of vibration, besides making the fingering less satisfactory. The ends or sides must be made beautifully even with the neck and rounded and papered off so that not an atom of friction worries the player, who has often worry enough in all conscience in the work of correct manipulation before him, without the hindrance of bad work on his instrument.

Then we come to the bridge--with two feet, not more my friends; the dear old fiddle has managed these three or four hundred years to crawl along _very_ respectably as a biped: _I_ shall have nothing whatever to do with turning him into a quadruped, be a.s.sured.

The importance of the quality and of the correct height, thickness, etc., etc., of this most essential adjunct, cannot be too seriously impressed upon all who seek to get from the violin they are fitting up the strongest and the best quality of tone possible; and, unless the clever amateur be sufficiently so to do it as it should be and can be done by an expert, my advice to him is, do not attempt it as a work of finality--_try_ to do it properly and persevere, and I will help you. But do not show me with pride work to which attaches nothing but condemnation; too thick at top and bottom--feet clumsy to a degree--too high or too low--badly arranged for clean bowing on separate strings, and too deep or too shallow in the cuts for them.

What does it matter to me if only a few or but one of these faults be apparent? the bridge is not perfect, and perfect it must be made, so I proceed to the consideration of the work to be done to make it so.

Select a fine, strong, light bridge by either Aubert or Panpi--the former by preference. In using the names of these deservedly popular makers, I mean, of course, either _Aubert_ or _Panpi_, and the bridges wrought in their workshops, not the nasty imitations we are compelled to see sometimes, but which, rather than use, we would go a day's journey to avoid.

Pare the feet down to about one thirty-second of an inch (this when fitted finally) and proceed to make as accurate a union of these feet with the belly as you can, as it is most important that such should be the case. Then measure the height of this bridge, from belly to its top at centre, as one and five-sixteenths of an inch, nicely curving it so that ease of bowing is obtained, as spoken of before. This curvature should be unequal in height--or, rather, to express it better, the height on the G side should be so that, at the broad end of the fingerboard, the s.p.a.ce _between_ the ebony and the string will be a quarter of an inch, reducing as we get to the E, which registers about one-sixteenth of an inch less, or three-sixteenths of an inch. This is a guide, and a good mean to work on, but not a rule, as some people cannot play except the strings are near to the board, others just the reverse.

As to the distance between the strings, where they pa.s.s over the bridge, this is also a point somewhat of controversy, and applies, as do my remarks in reference to the fingerboard nut--there is no rule; but a very useful mean distance is seven-sixteenths of an inch. When you have got the angle correct, mark with the compa.s.ses where the incisions are to be made with tool 27 round, rat tail file, and work the cuts accordingly, about as deep as the file where it tapers one-third from its point.

Then reduce the bridge in thickness from its feet upwards--very sparingly at these feet, but tapering to pretty thin at the top, say a bare sixteenth of an inch. The reduction must be made by rubbing on sandpaper, and a clean, straight tapering effected, as a bridge, where you can discern a round-backed slope, is bad--looks so and is.

When fitted and completed, the bridge must be as near perpendicular as possible; if there be any inclination, it must tend to the tailpiece, and _very_ slightly, thus checking the certain tendency of the strings to pull it forward, which must be always closely watched, as if it fall on the belly of the violin, it is most liable to break--not only so, but to crack that same soundboard. The outer edges may be either filed to an angle of one-sixteenth of an inch bare, or neatly rounded.

The soundpost must engage your closest attention, and must be of old Swiss pine. There is, again, no rule as to thickness--some violins do best with a thick, others with medium to thin post. I only tell you for guidance, a medium to thin is mostly used by me. It must be evenly rounded, and both ends filed so that the angles of back and belly may fit exactly when it is placed inside. To get the _exact_ length is not an easy matter; but you will find this hint useful: with a thin piece of wood gauge the depth through the upper hole of the soundhole from the back to the _outer_ surface of the belly, and your post will have to be a trifle longer than this, _minus_ the thickness of the belly. Then take a soundpost setter and fix the pointed end into the wood, sloping sides towards you, of course, and do your best to place this most exacting, but most necessary adjunct, just behind the centre of the foot of the bridge on the E side--the distance of about a good sixteenth of an inch behind the side next to the tail piece. When fitted, it must be neither slack nor tight, but between the two.

Of course, this operation will be, to the novice, a horrible job: he will fume and he will perspire, and, I fear, he will use strong language--none of which will help him, but on the contrary, will r.e.t.a.r.d progress. The thing has to be done, and done well; and it would be much better if the amateur _cannot_ do it ultimately, to pay an expert for timely instruction.