The voice, and how to use it, is a subject which has troubled many minds, and no doubt this will continue to be the case; but the difficult problem will not be solved by running to pettifogging teachers, who advertise to teach all that is known of singing, and a little more, in twelve easy lessons, without previous knowledge or practice at home, for the small fee of one guinea! Let it be stated once for all: singing cannot be taught in twelve easy lessons, and can scarcely be acquired in one hundred very severe lessons. Therefore distrust at once any one who holds out so tempting a bait to you; remember that there is no "royal road" to singing, any more than there is to the acquirement of any other art; and the person who tells you that he can teach you to do without trouble that which costs great artists the study of a lifetime, proclaims himself, ipso facto, to be a humbug.

Schools of Singing.—There are several so-called Schools of Singing. There is a French School, which for any language but French is bad, and which very seldom turns out a pleasing singer. There is a German School, which is worse, being simply the production of coarse noise. Some people say that there is an English School. I hope there may be some day, but at present its existence is rather doubtful, unless those who talk of an English school of singing mean the Cathedral style—which for solo work is detestable—or the old school of Oratorio singing, with its Handelian traditions, which was not an English, but an Italian, and the best Italian, school.

In fact, there is but one school of singing in the world, and that is the Italian. Whatever language you wish to sing in, whatever style of music you wish to study principally, you must train your voice, produce it, and learn to use it in the Italian method, if you hope ever to deserve the name of a singer.

Masters.—Of course, in a work of this sort, it is impossible, and would be wrong if it were possible, to mention the names of living teachers: therefore I can only give general hints. If possible, study only under a master whom you know to have lived in Italy, and to have studied there for some years under some good master or in some good Conservatoire—Naples, Milan, and Florence generally supply the best. Possibly, for an English singer, an English master who fulfils these conditions may be better than even an Italian, as he should understand better the peculiarities of English voices and temperaments, and would know at once where the chief difficulties would lie. Let me, however, correct a popular error. A good singer is not necessarily a good teacher, nor is it necessary for a first-class teacher to be able to sing at all. Nor need you necessarily look for your master among foreigners with fine sounding names. There are two or three good teachers of singing in this country who are foreigners; but there is also some native talent equally capable of teaching singing, as it is accepted in this country at the present time. These know the English style better than any foreigner can teach it, and after all, style is the chief consideration.

Institutions.—As we have no real English School of singing, it is perhaps fortunate that we have no Conservatoire. There are, however, Institutions accessible to those who cannot afford to have masters at home or to place themselves under a private teacher. Of these, the chief is the Royal Academy of Music, in Tenterden Street, Hanover Square. There is also the National Training School of Music, the London Academy of Music, also the Guildhall School, and there is Trinity College, London, where I believe singing lessons may also be obtained. To all these establishments singing masters, more or less good, are attached, and it is open to any one to obtain admission to the concerts given from time to time at the institutions themselves, and to form some kind of opinion as to the teachers from the performances of the pupils. It would be well for an intending student to do this, for of course at any institution where there are several professors, one might suit you and another might not; it is even conceivable that one professor might do all for you that you could possibly require, while another professor might be an ignorant charlatan. Therefore, hear their pupils and judge for yourself, making inquiries at the same time of musical people who are qualified to express an opinion on singing. I must not, however, withhold from my readers my conviction that private lessons are better and more effectual than those taken in schools and academies. The terms at these public institutions are such that they preclude the possibility of more than twenty or thirty minutes being devoted to each pupil, and that is not a sufficient time to bestow upon a lesson. Forty-five or sixty minutes are needed to give a good lesson; and the pupil who pays fifteen shillings or a guinea for this, does a wiser thing than the one who pays a fourth of that sum for, say, twenty minutes' attention.

A First Opinion.—The actual successful teachers of singing in London may be counted on the fingers of one hand, and those who are qualified to teach singing, but who are not specially successful, may be found on the remaining five fingers. Each of these professors would probably not take less than one guinea the lesson, and it would, honestly, be far cheaper in the long run to pay this sum for one good lesson in singing than it would be to have fifty lessons founded upon wrong principles, even for nothing. And for this reason: teachers of this calibre will not trouble themselves about you or your guineas unless you have a promising voice, some general musical talent, and show signs of becoming, to some degree, a credit to your teacher, for to these men guinea pupils are very plentiful, and it is only reasonable that a guinea from a clever pupil should be worth considerably more to a sensitive artist than the same amount from a fool. Therefore, a first opinion from one such teacher may save your spending money, time, and energy on a pursuit in which you can never succeed.

Bad Lessons.—Never take a bad singing lesson till you know how to sing. You may then do so (if you care to), and learn the "how not to do it" of singing. It is commonly supposed that the earliest singing lessons may be administered by any "dabbler," and the last touches given afterwards by a "finishing master." Never was there a greater error. Pay your guineas first, and your shillings afterwards. If you cannot afford to have good instruction in beginning to sing, you will be still less able to take it afterwards, for artistic reasons. Remember that every bad singing lesson which you take hardens old faults and creates new ones, and, moreover, takes you farther and farther away from your original starting-point. So, when you begin under the right man and the right method, you have to undo all this that you have expended toil and money to acquire.

Bad Teachers.—It is astonishing how much money is wasted by people who want to sing, through not going at once to the fountain-head for the necessary training. Because a man is a musician many people conclude that he must necessarily be able to teach singing! Such an idea is scarcely less monstrous than that of a man being a good physician and consequently competent to amputate a limb, or to take out and reset an eye. Do not follow this "multitude to do evil." Be as careful in inquiring about your singing master as you would be about your doctor. Both in London and in the country there are "professors" whose knowledge of singing stops at professing—the class of people who (very likely) keep a music-shop, tune your piano, play polkas and waltzes for your evening parties, and have a brass plate on their doors to this effect:

All honourable professions, no doubt; but to profess to combine them all is dishonourable, and insulting to the common sense of those who know anything of any one of the subjects professed. A singing master, if he is worth anything, must be a man of one trade—singing. For the teaching of singing is a "specialty," and the man who can teach it properly is not likely to be a man of all (musical) work.

Books of Exercises, &c.—There are numerous "Singing Tutors" published, giving rules, exercises, solfeggi, &c. Many of these are excellent, and some nearly perfect. But all alike are useless or worse than useless to the tyro, without a master. You might as well suppose that a child could learn to be a carpenter by having some fine wood and a box of good tools.

I have before observed that voices vary as faces do; no two are exactly alike, each voice having its peculiar merit and its peculiar defect. Now, a good master will treat each voice on its own merit, and not place it at first on the Procrustean bed of a book of rules and exercises. He will probably write down his own exercises expressly for his pupil, and if not that, he will select certain exercises from the book, and forbid others to be attempted for a time. You must also let your master select such a book for you, so that you may have one in which the rules do not contradict those which he has already given you verbally, or else you will be perplexed with a multitude of counsellors.

It is not till a certain stage in singing has been reached, under the training of a master, that any book of exercises can be of service to you. When that stage is reached, you will find such a work of great use in a part of your labours. Among such books may be named as especially good,—Concone's Exercises, Righini's, Guercia's, Nava's, Lablache's, and Lamperti's; but, again I say, do not choose for yourself. There are some excellent rules, as well as some good exercises, in an old work of the kind by Crivelli, and also in "Singing Exemplified," a work by T. Cooke. If you can meet with these, secure them—although I fear they may be long since out of print—for in the literature of singing the new is by no means certain to excel what was written in the days of our best composers and singers of operas and oratorios.