guesses at their part, but the owners of which could not, by the utmost courtesy, be considered to be singing at sight.  The basses missed many a “distance,” the tenors were interrupted by the master, and worked, in the defective passages, separately from the rest of the class for a while, by ear!!  A third attempt was made with somewhat better success, and the piece was accomplished in a rambling uncertain manner.  During the whole of this trial, the trebles were led by the master’s apprentice, a sharp clever boy, who retained a voice of peculiar beauty and power to the unusually late age of sixteen, and who had commenced his musical studies six or eight years before.  We considered this experiment a failure; it may be said the fault lay in the teacher, not in the method; true, the master was not Mr Hullah, but he was one of the “certificated,” and the partisans of Mr Hullah, in the language of the lawyers, are estopped from asserting his incompetency.  We have known pupils, not deficient in general ability, who, having attended the greater part of “the course,” during which they paid great attention to their studies, were unable to read more than a few bars of the simplest music, beyond which they were lost and confused.  Without naming the notes Do, Re, &c., they were utterly unable to proceed at all, and it appeared to us that, by seeing those syllables written on paper, they would have gathered a more correct idea of the music, than by attempting to read from music written in the ordinary manner.  This is the result of the invariable use of those syllables in exercising the voice.  In the best continental schools, they have long been obsolete for such a purpose.  Still, the Hullah-Wilhelm mania will, no doubt, produce considerable effect, even though the system should fall short of the expectations of its friends and promoters.  We have now commenced our first national effort in this direction; either, the prejudices which so long delayed this effort have been overcome, or, the “National Society” is now too strong to bow, entirely, to the opinions or prejudices of one of its earliest and most influential patrons—­one who long resisted the introduction of musical instruction into the schools of the society; and who, some twenty years ago, is said, on one occasion, actually to have thrown out of the windows of the central school some cards and boards on which the elements of music were printed, and which had been introduced by some of the committee.  But for the influence of this nobleman the effort had, perhaps, been made many years ago.  The “premier pas” has, however, at length been taken.  The public mind is roused; all, from the highest to the lowest, frequent the classes of Mr Hullah.  Royalty itself deigns to listen.  “THE DUKE” himself takes delight in the peaceful notes of Exeter Hall, and the Premier has found leisure, from the business and service of the State, to scrutinize the performance of “the classes.”  It must surely be a pleasant