There are no magic cures for the singer. Only slowly, vibration upon vibration, can the true pitch be won back. In the word "soaring" lies the whole idea of the work. No more may the breath be allowed to flow uncontrolled through the wearied vocal cords; it must be forced against the chest, always, as if it were to come directly out thence. The throat muscles must lie fallow until they have lost the habit of cramped contraction; until the overtones again soar as they should, and are kept soaring long, though quite piano. At first this seems quite impossible, and is indeed very difficult, demanding all the patient's energy. But it is possible, and he cannot avoid it, for it is the only way to a thorough cure. The patient has an extremely disagreeable period to pass through. If he is industrious and careful, he will soon find it impossible to sing in his old way; but the new way is for the most part quite unfamiliar to him, because his ear still hears as it has previously been accustomed to hear. It may be that years will pass before he can again use the muscles, so long maltreated. But he should not be dismayed at this prospect. If he can no longer use his voice in public as a singer, he certainly can as a teacher—for a teacher must be able to sing well. How should he describe to others sensations in singing which he himself never felt? Is it not as if he undertook to teach a language that he did not speak himself? or an instrument that he did not play himself? When he himself does not hear, how shall he teach others to hear?

The degree of the evil, and the patient's skill, naturally have much to do with the rapidity of the cure. But one cannot throw off a habit of years' standing like an old garment; and every new garment, too, is uncomfortable at first. One cannot expect an immediate cure, either of himself or of others. If the singer undertakes it with courage and energy, he learns to use his voice with conscious understanding, as should have been done in the beginning.

And he must make up his mind to it, that even after a good cure, the old habits will reappear, like corns in wet weather, whenever he is not in good form physically. That should not lead to discouragement; persistence will bring success.

As I have already said, singers with disabled voices like best to try "magic cures"; and there are teachers and pupils who boast of having effected such magic cures in a few weeks or hours.

Of them I give warning! and equally, of unprincipled physicians who daub around in the larynx, burn it, cut it, and make everything worse instead of better.

I cannot comprehend why singers do not unite to brand such people publicly and put an end to their doings once for all.

There is no other remedy than a slow, very careful study of the causes of the trouble, which in almost all cases consist in lack of control of the stream of breath through the vocal cords, and in disregard of the head tones, that is, of the overtones; as well as in forcing the pitch and power of the tone upon a wrong resonating point of the palate, and in constricting the throat muscles. In these points almost invariably are all mistakes to be looked for; and in the recognition of them the proper means for correcting them are already indicated.

The cure is difficult and tedious. It needs an endless patience on the part of the sufferer as well as of the physician—that is, of the pupil and the singing teacher (the only proper physician for this disease)—because the nerves of the head are already sufficiently unstrung through the consciousness of their incapacity; yet they should be able to act easily and without effort in producing the head tones.

The repairing of a voice requires the greatest sympathetic appreciation and circumspection on the part of the teacher, who should always inspire the pupil with courage; and on the part of the pupil, all his tranquillity, nervous strength, and patience, in order to reach the desired goal.

Where there is a will there is a way!