class="c5">CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER I.

THE HEALTHFULNESS OF SINGING.

The boy's voice, though an immature organ of delicate structure, is capable of much work, providing only that its mechanism be rightly used and not forced. Some people are unnecessarily nervous about boys; as a rule, under competent guidance, they will get nothing but good from vocal work. A cathedral organist wrote to me the other day:—

"Our best solo boy, who has a splendid voice and who sings beautifully, has been unwell, and the Dean and Chapter doctor (who has an idea that every choir-boy should be as robust as a plough-boy) has just stated that the boy is too feeble to remain in the choir. Notwithstanding my remonstrances, the Dean and Chapter decided yesterday to uphold the doctor. I tried his voice last week, and he sang with full, rich tone up to the C above the stave, and that after he had been skating from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. I should have thought that a boy who could skate all day could not be in such a 'feeble' state as represented by the medical man. Three months ago a boy with a beautiful voice was sent away for the same reason. So you see what uphill work it is for me."

It is to be hoped that fastidiousness of this sort is not common. The abuse of the voice may lead, of course, to serious results. In the New York Medical Record of March 21, 1885, p. 317, there is a case recorded of the bursting of a blood vessel through too energetic singing, but this is altogether abnormal, and beyond the scope of our enquiry. The voice, properly used, will last as long as any other organ, and it benefits by exercise. Mr. D. W. Rootham of Bristol, who now at middle age has a strong constitution and a fine baritone voice, tells me that as a boy at Cambridge he sang for seven years at five services every Sunday. The thing seems incredible, and it is an extreme case, though it shows what work the voice, properly managed, will do.

Singing, it should be remembered, promotes health. It does so indirectly by causing cheerfulness, a genial flow of spirits, and the soothing of the nerves. It does so directly by increasing the action of the lungs. So far as these organs are concerned, singing is a more energetic form of speech. As we sing we breathe deeply, bring more air into contact with the lungs, and thus vitalise and purify the blood, giving stimulus to the faculties of digestion and nutrition. A physiologist, in fact, can trace the effects of singing from the lungs into the blood, from the blood into the processes of nutrition, back again into the blood, into the nerves, and finally into the brain, which of all organs is most dependent upon healthful and well-oxygenated blood. Dr. Martin (organist of St. Paul's Cathedral) has had many years' experience in training choir-boys, and he tells me that he has never known a boy to injure his voice, or lose it through singing. It is a question of method; if the voice be used properly it will stand any amount of work. He has seen boys disposed to consumption improve in health after joining the choir. The medical man who declared that if there were more singing there would be less coughing, expressed in a graphic way the healthful influence of vocal practice. Parents and guardians need never hesitate to allow their sons and charges to become choir-boys under proper choirmasters. They may be sure that nothing but good can come of the exercise.

Two cautions only are needed. The first is, not to sing during a cold. When a slight inflammation has attacked the larynx—that is, when a cold has been taken—the vocal cords are thickened, and the act of vocalisation causes them to rub together, which increases the inflammation. If the cold is a bad one—that is, if the inflammation is great—the singer will be compelled to rest, because the congestive swelling of the vocal cords will be so great that they will be unable to vibrate sufficiently to produce tone. But whether slight or great, the cold demands rest. Otherwise permanent injury may be done to the voice.

The second caution relates to the preservation, not of the boy's voice, but of the man's. There is no doubt that it is undesirable for a boy to continue to sing after his voice has shown signs of "breaking." What are the first signs of this change? Choirmasters notice that the middle register becomes weak, without any diminution in the power and quality of the upper notes, but that at the same time the thick register grows stronger, and the boy can strike middle C with firmness. "The striking of middle C," says Mr. G. Bernard Gilbert, "is usually sufficient to decide the point." The tradition of teachers is in favour of rest at this time, and a well-founded public impression counts for a good deal. The fact is that during the time of change not only do the vocal cords lengthen, but they are congested. An inflammatory action, like that which takes place during a cold, is set up. Hence rest is desirable. Nature herself also counsels rest because she reduces the musical value of the voice at this time to a low ebb. It becomes husky and of uncertain intonation. No doubt cases can be quoted of boys who have sung on uninterruptedly and developed into good tenors or basses, but there are cases equally strong in which the man's voice has completely failed after such a course. Sir Morell Mackenzie is the only medical writer who has advocated singing during change of voice, but not even his authority can upset the weight of evidence on the other side.

Nevertheless, on the principle of "hear both sides" I quote the following from a letter by Mr. E. H. Saxton, choirmaster of St. James's church, at Buxton:—

"Upon the question of resting completely from singing