"Many singers do the opposite. They burst into tears because they find a thing too hard. Do not be afraid to face a difficulty. Make up your mind to conquer it. I only direct you. If you do a thing badly, it is your fault, not mine. If you do it well, all praise to you, not to me. I show pupils how to sing, and the proper way to study. Suppose some one meets me out of doors and says, 'Can you tell me the way to Hampstead Heath?' I answer, 'I will walk there with you.' We set out, and I keep by his side, saying, 'This is the street we have to pass through. Do not turn down there. That goes in the wrong direction. Follow my instruction, and you will arrive at your destination. I know the road well.' If he takes the wrong turning, that is his fault, not mine. I cannot prevent him from going off into the slums. I can only say 'Do not go there--that is wrong.' He must follow my advice or not, as he chooses. Again, if we come to a very steep hill, and he says, 'I can't climb that. It is too difficult. Let us not go up--I am tired'; I can only reply, 'If you wish to reach the Heath, you _must_ climb it. There is no other way of getting to your destination.' But if he is lazy, and will not mount it by his own endeavour, I cannot lift him and carry him upon my shoulders." How characteristic it was of the master's innate modesty to speak of his work in this simple way! How he ignored the times when he pulled the pupils back by main force from that wrong path; when he cheered them on, should they get discouraged; when he described in concise terms the easiest way of climbing up that hill! If they failed to mount the ascent on the first occasion, he explained the reason for their failure. Then he bade them be of good courage and try again. If they failed ten times, he would once more carefully repeat exactly what had to be done, and seek for fresh illustrations which might perhaps put the matter in a clearer light. Truly, if he did not actually carry them up the steep path, he came very near doing so. He was like a friend offering assistance rather than a teacher paid to instruct. Ah, dear maestro! never shall I forget the infinite patience and gentleness which you displayed in those hours of study.