the writer in his own
experience in teaching the art of singing. Only the practical teacher of
singing has the opportunity to discover the real needs of the student;
and only the artist of wide experience can answer many of the serious
questions asked.

The writer's first interest in the subject of voice commenced with the
recollection of the wonderfully human and fascinating vocal organ of
Henry Ward Beecher, whom he had the joy to know in his early boyhood.
The memory of such a voice as that of Beecher is ineradicable. Once, at
the same age, he was taken to hear Beecher's rival pulpit orator, the
Rev. T. de Witt Talmage, in the Brooklyn Tabernacle. The harsh, raucous,
nasal, penetrating, rasping, irritating voice of that clergyman only
served to emphasize the delight in listening to Beecher. Then he heard
the wonderful orotund organ of Col. Robert J. Ingersoll and the
sonorous, mellow voice of Edwin Booth.

Shortly he found himself enlisted as a soprano in the boy choir of a
large Episcopal church. While there he became the soloist, singing many
of the leading arias from famous oratorios before he was able to
identify the musical importance of such works. Then came a long training
in piano and in organ playing, followed by public appearances as a
pianist and engagements as an organist and choirmaster in different
churches. This, coupled with song composition, musical criticism and
editing, experience in conducting, managing concerts, accompanying noted
singers and, later, in teaching voice for many years, formed a
background that is recounted here only to let the reader know that the
conferences were not put down by one unacquainted with the actual daily
needs of the student, from his earliest efforts to his platform
triumphs.

WHAT MUST THE SINGER HAVE?

What must the singer have? A voice? Of course. But how good must that
voice be? "Ah, there's the rub!" It is this very point which adds so
much fascination to the chances of becoming a great singer; and it is
this very point upon which so many, many careers have been wrecked. The
young singer learns that Jenny Lind was first refused by Garcia because
he considered her case hopeless; he learns that Sir George Henschel told
Bispham that he had insufficient voice to encourage him to take up the
career of the singer; he learns dozens of similar instances; and then he
goes to hear some famous singer with slender vocal gifts who, by force
of tremendous dramatic pow