pertinence. There need be no offensiveness in his manner, no cessation of kindliness or loss of courtesy ; but through it all the choir should realize that the leader proposes to do the utmost possible work in the shortest possible time.

The leader should have a very definite understanding that he is to be entirely free to criticise his choir, either collectively or individually, as need may require, without personal offense being taken. That is his particular business, and any singer, who is so sensitive that he can not endure it, should withdraw from the choir, as too fragile of mould to do actual service in the world. At the same time, the leader is under bonds not to allow the slightest element of personal feeling to enter into his correction. Scolding or harshness is utterly out of place. A kind, calm suggestion will usually do better service than a harsh reflection on a singer's lack of ability or slowness of perception. A singer who really needs sharp and unkind prodding, because of indifference, carelessness, or worse, should be replaced by some one else at the first opportunity, as he flats the note of kindliness in the choir.

Where there is evident in a singer a serious purpose to do all that is possible, but a lack of quickness, or capacity, the leader should cultivate infinite patience. It is painful enough for a singer to butt his head against the stone wall of his limited apprehension or power, without being publicly pilloried by the sarcasm or abuse of the leader. He probably will be helped by a little encouragement or praise, while sharp words will depress his nerve.

Not only must the leader be patient himself, but he must develop the same grace in his singers, so that they will be content to repeat again and again a passage over

which some less gifted one of their number is stumbling. Perhaps the best way to secure this is to quietly take it for granted and to express amazement should any of the singers manifest a lack of it. Should one of the habitually impatient members of the choir have difficulty, the need of patience may then be commented upon kindly and impersonally, and the needed lesson so impressed.

Of course, this patience must not degenerate into indifference and sloth. The leader should spur his choir to the very quick, in order to get as much out of them as is at all possible during the short weekly rehearsal. Patience that allows dawdling is a virtue down at the heels, without grace or usefulness. The golden mean should be sought. Rasping, ranting, scolding, on the one hand, should be avoided as unworthy a Christian gentleman, and on the other, patience, when it ceases to be a virtue, should no longer be cherished.

The choir leader must see that the needed work is done and done right. The good nature and sympathy, that prevent a leader from keeping a choir practicing until it has really learned its music, are a weakness that deserves contempt. He may use many ways of keeping them in good humour and full of courage. Tell them a good story that is apropos, flatter them to the top of their bent, scold them in a jolly way, hold them to their work by sheer force of will, but the music must be studied with spirited attention until it is mastered. Nothing else will do, and nothing else should be considered, no matter how often some passages must be reiterated, no matter if the anthem is repeated a score of times. Voices may become hoarse or may even flat; a few minutes of rest will wonderfully relieve that, and the work should then go steadily on to a complete finish.

The choir leader should himself cherish high ideals of work, and impress them on his singers until they make it a matter of conscience as well as of pride to make their share of the divine service the very best attainable. Past failures may be kindly discussed and their causes pointed out. The selection of the music may have been at fault, the practice insufficient, the choir indifferent and listless during service; there may have been a lack of religious feeling, or at some critical point one or the other of the parts may have been careless and caused a break; whatever the weakness it should be dispassionately analyzed and the ideals of good singing raised.

If the choir leader's sense of finish and completeness be keen, the choir will soon rise to its requirements and will take pleasure in realizing his ideals. They will learn to sing pianissimo without flatting or muffling the tones, or fortissimo without shrieking. They will retard or accelerate the movement together, and their crescendos and diminuendos will be smoothly and intelligently done. Staccato and legato will have an actual meaning, and a swell will be something more than an irregular burst of noise. They will not gasp for breath in the midst of a musical phrase, nor sing all the rests. They will watch their leader and catch his interpretation from the movement of his hands and the expression of his face. But impressing these ideals is not the work of a single rehearsal, but of scores and even hundreds of them.

The choir's ideals of the music to be rendered should also be given direction by the choir leader. This is particularly the case where low ideals exist. I believe that an intelligent choir will learn to appreciate a very high grade of music. While the needs of the congregation should have the determining voice, the choir should

be able to render and appreciate something better than an average congregation enjoys, and its right at least occasionally to please itself should be asserted. A broad, catholic taste, that will enjoy both Emerson and Buck, is the desirable culmination of the proper training of a choir in this matter.

After all, nothing counts in a choir leader with his choir quite so much as sheer manliness. Sincerity, straightforwardness, unswerving justice, consideration for others, conscientiousness in all phases of his work, will have the right of way as long as the world stands; and the choir leader who possesses these traits to any considerable extent may be sure of the respect and goodwill, and hence of the obedience, of his singers.

O

VI

THE ORGANIST

NLY second to the choir director is the organ

ist. He should be a musician by the grace of God as well as by the grace of practice. Dr. Havergal well says he should have "besides fingers and feet, a soul." Whatever his instrument, he ought to be master of its resources, not only for the sake of his own solo playing, but for that of the accompaniment of the choir as well. If he has interpretative insight, he can greatly aid the leader in giving the choir a correct idea of the needed expression of a piece. He ought, of course, to be subordinate to the leader, with whom he should be on most cordial terms, as friction between these leaders works unceasing mischief. It is no small privilege to have a good organist, one who can subordinate himself to those above him cheerfully and intelligently, and yet in his own domain can contribute by his skill and taste to the general result that is sought. Such an organist will not only be a large determining factor in the success of the choir but also of the congregational singing.

If he is slipshod, careless, lazy, unintelligent, and without musical sense, he is a regular " Old Man of the Sea" about the neck of the choir, marring their finest work and discouraging every worthy ambition. He is late at rehearsals, and keeps the choir full of apprehension at the service for fear he will be absent when the service begins; he pulls out all the stops and drowns out the soloists with