during the period of change of voice, I hold that one must be guided by the circumstances of each individual case. I carefully watch each boy when I am expecting the change to commence, and it usually shows itself by the upper thin register giving way. If I cannot immediately spare the boy from the treble part (and good leading boys are not plentiful), I caution him to leave high notes alone, never to force them, and as soon as possible I relegate him to the alto part, where he often remains useful to me for a year or eighteen months. All the time he is singing the alto part I keep watch over him, and forbid his singing as soon as there are indications that the effort is in the slightest degree painful. Generally I find this prohibition to be only necessary for notes above . [Listen] Should a vacancy occur in the senior choir (if the boy shows signs of his voice developing to either tenor or bass) I get him passed from the junior to the senior choir, warning him, however, to be very careful of his high notes, and never to force them. My general experience leads me to the conclusion that it is a most arbitrary and unnecessary rule to lay down that every boy should rest at this time. In some cases it is necessary, no doubt, but my opinion is, after twenty years' practical experience, that in a large number of cases it is cruel, and about as much use with regard to the after-development of the voice as it would be to prohibit speaking. Speaking practically—not scientifically—I hold that the vocal organ is beneficially exercised when singing is allowed in moderation, and within the restricted limits which every choirmaster ought to know how to apply. I have experienced boys who have never rested developing good voices, as well as those who have rested. But I have no experience of boys who have never rested developing bad voices, though I have of those who did rest. I have three boys in one family in my mind now, one of whom had a good alto, the other two good soprano voices. The alto and one soprano never rested, and developed respectively a good tenor and bass. The other rested (through removal to another town), and developed a very indifferent bass."

In spite of this weighty and well-argued statement, my own opinion is that the preponderance of evidence is in favour of rest. It is certainly a new physiological doctrine for a short period of rest to injure or prevent the development of any organ. In short, I cannot see how there can be any disadvantage in a few months' rest, while from the other point of view there can be no musical advantage in the use of an unmusical instrument. As soon as the man's voice shows signs of settlement its practice should gently begin.

CHAPTER II.

MANAGEMENT OF THE BREATH.

Breathing in singing is a matter of the utmost importance. The breath is the motive power, the primary force, to which the larynx and the resonance chamber are but secondary. In speech we can manage with short breathing and half-filled lungs, but in sustaining the sounds of song, we need to breathe deeply, and to breathe in a right way. Manifestly the act of breathing consists of two parts—(1) the drawing in, and (2) the letting out of the breath. When we speak of modes of breathing, however, we refer to the drawing in of the breath. There are three ways of doing this. First, by lowering the diaphragm, and thus compelling the lungs to enlarge and fill the vacant space created. Second, by extending the ribs sideways, causing the lungs to expand laterally. Third, by drawing up the collar-bone and shoulder blades, causing the upper part of the lungs to expand. The third method is bad; the ideal breathing is a combination of the first and second. Upon this athletes as well as singers are agreed. This is the breathing which we practise unconsciously in sleep, or in taking a long sniff at a flower. The musical results of bad breathing are flattening and a hurrying of the time; hence the importance of the matter. Practice may well begin with a few minutes devoted to breathing exercises. Let the boys inhale a long breath through the nose; hold it for a time, and then slowly exhale. Again let them slowly inhale, hold, and exhale quickly, allowing the sides of the chest to collapse. Again, let them, while holding the breath, press it from the lower to the middle, and to the upper part of the chest, and vice versa. During this exercise the body should be in the position of "stand at ease." The spirometer, a useful but rather expensive little instrument, measures accurately lung capacity. These breathing exercises may be followed by practice in holding a single tone for a period just short of exhaustion.

CHAPTER III.

THE ART OF MANAGING CHOIR BOYS.

To some choirmasters the management of their boys is a perfectly easy matter; to others it is a constant source of trouble. Everything depends upon knack. Max O'Rell has some wise maxims on the subject which it may be well to quote. "Face the boys," he says, "or you will be nowhere. Always be lively. Never show your temper: to let the boys see that they can ruffle you is to give them a victory. Allow no chatting. Never over-praise clever boys; never snub dull ones. Never expect any thanks. If a boy laughs at a mistake made by another boy, ask him for the answer immediately, and he will be dumb. If you do not love boys, never become a choir [school] master."

Discipline is preserved by giving the boys seats in the same relative position at rehearsal and in church. There should be a double row of desks in the practice room, provided with a shelf for books, just as in the stalls. If the boys have to hold the books and music in their hands they stoop, and the singing suffers. Each boy should have a copy of the music, and it should bear his number, so that he is personally responsible for its good keeping. Punctuality at rehearsal is important. Let the choirmaster call for order at the exact time, and let the roll be gone over at once. To be unpunctual, or not to register early attendance, is to encourage laxity.

There is no doubt that the long services in many churches are trying to the choir boys. In some churches the morning service lasts two hours and a quarter. It is very hard even for an adult to keep his thoughts from wandering, and his eyes from glancing over the congregation during all this time. How much more hard is it, then, for a boy who is by nature a fidget, and if healthy, brimming over with activity? Nevertheless boys can be trained, if not to control their thoughts, at least to an outward