blend so entirely with the tone, that although the audience may be able to hear every word, yet the speaking must be only as an adjunct. The poetry ought not to be the prominent part of a song; the pronunciation, as in reading, should be articulate and free from vulgarity or affectation. There is a standard which all educated persons are supposed to possess in speaking, and to this they must refer in singing. In taking breath, the singer must endeavour not to breathe in the middle of a word (unless it be before a passage of exècution), and also not to break the sense of the words or the accent of the melody. The singer should not change the vowel or syllable upon which she may have to hold a note or execute a passage, since it will detract from the beauty of articulate speaking, as well as from correct tone.

As to the ornamental part, professional singers are expected occasionally to alter or add to the notes set down in a melody, for the sake of novelty and variety, and also for the purpose of exhibiting their peculiar attainments, or their invention and imagination. The nearer an amateur approaches professional excellence, the more highly is she estimated; and this custom is consequently practised by the former where music is highly cultivated. It is obvious that, in order to create new combinations of notes, the mind must be stored with examples, and possess the power and habit of invention; and in order to apply them tastefully and appropriately, there must be a perfect understanding of the style of the composer, and of the character and expression of the composition. All this information and ability presumes an acquaintance with the science. of music, an intimate knowledge of style or a wide

and extensive reading in the works of various masters. There are, however, some persons with retentive memories, quick apprehension, and refined feelings, who can remember and apply ornaments appropriately and ef fectively. But these are exceptions, for this capability is generally the result of study, and requires more time and labour than singers can commonly bestow. There are some graces which are indispensable, and call for no such exertion, nor such expenditure of time, but only patience and industry. The shake is one of these. It should be first practised on the middle of the voice, beginning slow, and gradually increasing the velocity. A perfect shake is rapid, but distinct, liquid, smooth, and full of tone. In old English music it almost invariably terminates every composition; the Italians use it more as a passing grace, either very slow or very quick. The singer ought to be able to make a shake on every note of the voice; but though essential in the middle, it is not often required at the extremes of the compass. It demands some labour and more patience on the part of the pupil, but is an indispensable ornament to an English singer, and well worth the trouble of acquiring.

The mordente, and the turn, both plain and inverted, are other necessary graces, requiring liquid tone and distinct but legato execution. Their application, where not designated by the composer, must be regulated by the sentiments of the passage to which they are affixed; and their expression may be varied, and a new character given by the employment of different accentuation and tone. A slow inverted turn, though composed of the same notes, bears a totally different expression from a quick turn; and the accent falling upon any one

of the four notes will again change its meaning. Excellence in these minor points is derived from the mind: it is the intellect working with mechanical means which raises artists of every description above the mass. We cannot, therefore, urge too strongly upon the young vocalist to exercise her understanding at the same time that she practises her voice and her fingers.

We will endeavour to describe a more modern ornament of Italian origin for which we know no name, but which is full of elegance and feeling. It is generally used at the end of a musical phrase where the same note is repeated, and it consists in a gentle glide to the third above, which last note is just touched, and the next note descending dwelt upon more at length, ending upon the second note of the original phrase, for instance, g, b, a, g: when properly executed, it resembles a sort of gurgling sound; and when applied in pathetic passages, requires little effort to imagine it a sigh or gentle sob. When given with more boldness it confers dignity, and when lightly executed it imparts a playful character.

The appogiatura is another addition, the use of which calls for the discretion and judgment of the performer. It is too common to need description; it requires legato execution, and may be varied in rapidity, accent, and tone, according to the expression required. The Italians almost invariably introduce the appogiatura, when the same note occurs twice in succession: this frequently happens in recitative, when the rule is that the singer instead of taking the first note as it is written introduces the note above, or the half note below, as an appogiatura.

Another modern application of this ornament consists

in repeating the appogiatura a second, or even a third time before taking the note which it precedes. The execution of the repetition should be soft, like a throb of the voice, if we may be allowed the expression.

The portamento, or carrying the voice from one interval to another, comes perhaps under the head of legato execution. It consists in sliding the voice through the intervening notes. Italian singers rarely omit so to connect the notes: in English music it must be employed with caution, and under all circumstances it ought to be used without violence; otherwise, it has a ludicrous effect, and resembles a caricatured imitation of the Italian manner.

It has long been the fashion to conclude English songs with a cadence, why, we know not, unless it be to give the singer further opportunity of displaying his execution and invention. The Italians have better taste, and although they may be justly accused of ending all their arias alike, yet this is a less obvious absurdity than commencing a long roulade upon a word of no meaning, when the sentiment has drawn to a close, and passion has vented its fervor. opportunity in the course of an air to show her taste and ability, and these are not unfrequently best displayed by a sparing rather than a redundant use of ornament. It is desirable to possess the power of execution, but equally so to employ it judiciously.

The singer has every

We have now treated of tone, execution, elocution, ornament, and expression. We come next to style, or the peculiar mode in which all these means are employed. It seems impossible that a succession of notes arranged to certain words should be so performed by two or more persons as to bear a different character,

and yet that each performance should be equally successful. This is undoubtedly the case in acting. Actors give the same passage different readings, and accompany it by different action, yet each may claim equal excellence; how else, indeed, should there be variety or novelty, the two great charms of life? So is it with singers. No two voices have the same character, and although trained by the same master and in the same method, yet they are totally dissimilar; and as no two minds are alike, the nature of the intellect gives other varieties which are manifested in conception, imagination, and feeling. For instance, one singer will be distinguished for tenderness, another for dignity, a third for pathos. One will employ mere beauty of voicing, another great power, a third will adopt contrast, a fourth delicate or powerful execution. Some will introduce appropriate but far-fetched ornaments; others, when the character of the words is not decided, will alter the time of a composition from quick to slow, or the contrary, so as to surprise by novelty, or to gain the opportunities of displaying some acquirement or natural gift peculiar to herself. It is also to be remarked, that different kinds of compositions have each their peculiar character. The music of the church in all its subdivisions, chamber music in all its varieties, such as the canzonet, the air, the bravura, the ballad, &c., are distinct species which call into action the same qualifications, but demand an application fitted to the particular nature of the composition. There is also some regard due to the age and country of the composer. Attention to these points implies a general knowledge of the art and its history, and requires more than mere mechanical excellence. All these differences constitute style;