Not long ago it was considered essential that a singer of any exceptional merit should go to Italy to "_finish_"--or _be_ finished, as the case might be. Not only so, but it was often thought necessary to Italianise the Anglo-Saxon name, and this was occasionally done with grotesque result! In some cases the possessor of so characteristic a name, say, as Smith (Miss Smith might be a "discovery" by some knowing person and promptly packed off to the "land of song")--after a stay of a year or two in Italy, emerges from that country, having adopted, with a profound sense of the genius of Latin languages, the name of Smith-_ona_. The fact that such great singers as Sims Reeves and Charles Santley went to Italy and achieved great success there, has, no doubt, been a fruitful source of attraction to the country; but of the many thousands who have followed their example, how many have returned with the least promise of emulating in ever so faint a degree their illustrious careers? No Englishmen, assuredly. A few years ago I had the pleasure to spend a day in the company of that great singer, the late Signor Tamagno. In the course of conversation he expressed the opinion that the old school of Italian singing which had produced so many artists of such extraordinary merit, was practically dead, and that he was the only living exponent to carry on its traditions. As he was speaking in French, I give his actual words in a foot-note.[23] Without venturing to subscribe to such a pronouncement, I think it is worth while recording. Whilst admitting that Italy occasionally produces singers that electrify the world, such as Madame Tettrazzini and Signor Caruso, I think that a little consideration will convince anyone that the majority of great singers in modern times has emanated from the northern races.[24] In a memorable address given recently by Madame Melba to the students of the Guildhall School of Music, on which occasion I was fortunate enough to be present, that great singer insisted on the importance of _diction_, and expressed the opinion that in this respect young English singers had much to learn. One is obliged to recognise the justice of the rebuke, but I think that, at least, a partial explanation may be ventured. In illustration Madame Melba instanced many words that were constantly maltreated, and among them was that of _love_. This irresistibly brought to my mind an incident that occurred many years ago. When I was, as a boy, acting as accompanist in the studio of a celebrated foreign singing master, an English lady was having a lesson and was singing an English song in which she had to articulate this very word. Suddenly there came a clapping of hands and a voice called out, "No, no, dat will not do. Ze word is--" and I give the pronunciation as nearly as letters will permit--"'loaf.'"