to impress upon his audience.  Let the singer recite or read aloud the words of his songs.  This is a natural form of expression, and requires a less complex process of thought than singing, which demands several automatic reflexes in securing tone production; let him read aloud, trying to give out every shade of thought and feeling the poem contains, in a tone which is persuasive and appealing.  Later, when he can do this with appropriate emphasis in speech, let him try to express the same meanings in his singing voice.  In all probability he will find that he is much assisted by the music, if his tone production is reasonably correct and authoritative, and he be enough of a musician to grasp readily tonal values.  The sense of the words, the emotion and thought underlying the words, will suggest the color and character of voice appropriate to the expression and interpretation of the song as a whole.  Of course, if he tries to impress upon his hearer that he thinks it rather weak and foolish to give up completely to the full significance of the words, and to impersonate their narrative or dramatic significance, there is no help for him.  I am inclined to think that the fear of seeming exuberant or foolish, the unwillingness to give one’s inner self to others, or a self-consciousness which prevents it, is at the root of much apparent lack of “temperament.”  The singer must be both the narrator of the story of the poem and the impersonator of the principal characters in that story.  Upon the completeness of his understanding of the meaning of the poem, and his revelation of its meanings, as well as upon the absence of stiffness or self-consciousness in suggesting the moods or characteristics displayed, will depend the impression of temperamental force upon his audience.

The following suggestions may be of some value as devices in making songs mean something; and this, after all, is the object of all attempts at interpretation.

Suppose you take a new song—­one you have never seen before.  Do not sit at the pianoforte, and play at it and sing at it until, after a fashion, you know it.  This way of learning leads to the kind of statement recently heard after a peculiarly bad performance, “Why, I never think of the words at all when I sing!” Instead of doing this, if you have been taught to do so, read the song through, observing its general character.  If thinking music without playing or singing be impossible for you, play it over, carefully noting tempo and other general characteristics, until you have an understanding of the melody, rhythm, and musical content.  Observe how the words fit the music, still without singing.  Then read the poem silently and carefully, and decide whether it is narrative, lyric, dramatic, churchly, or in other ways distinctive.  Next read the poem aloud, giving the voice character appropriate to its sentiment, phrasing it intelligibly, observing the emotional portent, and coloring it accordingly.