WHATEVER be the actual difference between the professional and the amateur singer, if a person is worthy of the name of singer at all, there should be no difference in their views of Art, and in their devotion to practice. Singing is an art, and one of the most difficult of the arts to master; and any one who attempts to learn it must be prepared to give the same devotion to it as is demanded by the sister arts of painting and sculpture. I do not mean exactly devotion of the whole time and energy of life to it; because, however necessary that may be for the professional, who has to make his living by it, such entire devotion to an accomplishment or an amusement (for such singing is to the amateur) would, for a non-professional, be frequently impossible, and very often wrong, as it would lead to a neglect of the duties of life. But, while the entire devotion of time and energy of a professional singer is demanded to master the various styles, and the immense mass of music, with which he or she will have to deal in the exercise of the profession, the amateur should bear in mind that such time and energy as he can devote to singing must be firmly restricted to doing what he undertakes thoroughly well—as well, in fact, as a professional. The amateur's position, which forbids him to make singing the work of his life, limits the range of his work, not the quality of it. He cannot, even if he have the voice of a Rubini or a Braham, master the difficulties of opera, oratorio, and ballad alike. Circumstances forbid him to conquer the world, but there is no reason why he should not be a king in his own special realm. To be that he will have to follow the same rules as though he were able to attack the whole universe of vocal music; for he should feel that the only difference between him and the professional singer lies in the sphere of their work.

The same remarks apply to many professionals. Very few can excel in all styles, and few in more than one. To attempt all is a great mistake, and will probably lead to failure, or at least mediocrity in all.

But the first point that I would insist upon is the necessity for earnest devotion and regular work, both in professional and amateur, so that the term Artist may apply to both. I shall be at no great pains to avoid occasional repetitions of incidental remarks. In a book intended for constant reference rather than for one perusal, and one divided, as this is, into short paragraphs, words may attract attention in one place, while in another they may have been overlooked. If, therefore, I err in this respect, I shall do so deliberately, my sole aim being to help and impress the student as much as possible.

Remember that the human voice is the most delicate of all instruments, susceptible to more and more varied influence than any other. The singer has to combine in himself the instrument and the performer; and while all the artistic and intellectual qualities necessary for the instrumentalist are required by him, he is compelled beyond that to realize that he is a living instrument, and to exercise over himself all the care—and indeed far more than all—that players exercise over their most cherished "weapons." He has not only to learn how to sing, but how to be and to remain fit for singing. He, more than any other musical artist, will find that he is affected by moral as well as physical and intellectual causes, and he must face this fact boldly.

In writing down the brief hints which this little work offers to singers, I shall therefore take in a range of subjects and enter into many details which may seem to have little to do with the practice of Do, Re, Mi. I do this advisedly, and I believe that such hints as those on general culture and habits of living are by no means the least important part of my work. I do not profess to teach my readers how to sing—(any singer knows, and I should like the public to know too, that singing cannot be taught by a book)—but to give "hints to singers," and many of those hints are on such subjects as it would be an impertinence on the part of a singing master to allude to. If the student takes offence at the book, it happily does not reach the author.

Following out the previous thought, I shall try to turn the intending singer's attention to several other subjects, before I touch upon that of strictly musical interest. And if I here seem to "preach" occasionally, I shall never do so without cause, and never, I trust, in any spirit but that of the warmest sympathy with the aspirations and the peculiar trials and difficulties of those who are still in full vigour of youth and health.

Remember that I give hints, not rules. It is quite impossible to lay down rules of living which shall apply alike to male and female, or to variously constituted natures. But I hope I may trust to the common sense of every individual to draw sound conclusions, and to form his or her own rules, by the help of these hints, and, the rules once formed, to adhere to them resolutely. If singing is to be done at all, it is worth while to do it well, and to spare no pains to that end.

There is a good deal to be done by the student of singing before he attacks the strictly musical part of his difficulties. General education, if deficient, must be attended to; habits of living must be formed and followed out; faults of character, such as laziness, ill temper, slovenliness, impatience, and want of perseverance, must be bravely fought; for the study of singing, perhaps more than of any other art, will test the character severely in these respects.

The student must be prepared to exercise a good deal of self-denial; to put aside all notions of self-merit for a long time to come; and to be humble, and ready to take a hint from any source. Whatever merits he may have at starting are certainly not due to his own skill; they are simply natural gifts, and the better they are, the more is there for him to learn in doing justice to them. Let him not waste time in admiring what he is, or has done; but let him keep all his energy for what he may yet be and for what he yet has to accomplish.