We would again call attention to one anatomical fact of great importance for the explanation of certain facts of experience—viz.: that the whole respiratory tract, the larynx included, is lined with a mucous membrane, which is continuous with that covering the inner surface of the digestive organs. That is to say, the nose, the mouth, the back of the throat, the larynx, the windpipe, the bronchial tubes, the gullet, the stomach and intestines are all brought into structural connection by this common lining membrane. Moreover, these parts have to some extent the same nerve supply, and are, in fact, so related that derangement in one region must affect sooner or later, and to a variable degree according to the resisting power of each individual, other related parts. Thus it is that a disordered stomach affects the voice, that a cold may affect digestion, that a catarrh of the nose will eventually reach the vocal bands, etc.
Another principle of wide-reaching importance is that all sorts of compression must, of necessity, be attended by functional disorders, which, if long continued, will result in organic or structural changes implying deterioration of a kind that must be more or less permanent. Whatever the cause of compression of the chest or neck, the result is the same: a retention of blood in parts for too long a period—a condition of things which must inevitably be injurious.
The tissues are made up of cells, which are the individuals of the bodily community. Around these cells are found the smallest of the blood-vessels, the capillaries, between which and the tissues a sort of physiological barter is continually going on, the capillaries handing over oxygen and food supplies from the blood, and receiving waste materials in return, as the blood creeps along at a very slow rate. If, however, in consequence of pressure on a part, the blood be kept back in these minute vessels too long, there is naturally a double evil: first, the food and oxygen supplies fail—they have been used up already—and, secondly, the waste products accumulate in the tissue cells, so that there is a combination of starvation and poisoning—a sort of physiological slum life, with corresponding degradation; so that it is not at all difficult to understand why tight collars, neckbands, corsets, etc., must be unmixed evils, apart altogether from the fact that they so greatly hamper the very movements the voice-user most requires for the successful execution of his task.
All sorts of straining or forcing also involve this same evil, known to medical men as congestion. The sore throats so common with those who force, owing to methods essentially wrong, or simply to the too vigorous use of methods correct in themselves, are to be traced to the above—i.e., to this congestion, which is bad, and bad only.
If one who had a naturally sound throat at the outset finds that after vocal exercise he experiences either a soreness or an undue weariness of parts, he should conclude, if he is living under healthy conditions, that the methods he is employing are incorrect, and seek the natural remedy. Proper vocal exercise should, in those with healthy vocal organs, always improve them and the condition of the whole man. The author has met those who have been ruined vocally for life by the use of certain methods recommended by would-be professional guides. Why should not all who assume the responsibility of guiding speakers and especially singers be required by the state to show that they have not only a knowledge of music and vocal technique, but also at least a moderate amount of practical knowledge of the anatomy and physiology of the vocal organs, with some elementary information on general physiology? If the injury done by incompetent teachers were realized, we feel certain that the above proposition would not be questioned.
A common cause of congestion of the digestive organs, with which, of course, other parts sympathize physiologically, is constipation, very often the result of insufficient exercise, and injurious in many ways. Speakers and singers very generally ride to and from their engagements, so that there is special reason why they should see to it that some time is set aside for general exercise, as walking in the open air, which would of itself work against that tendency to grow fat which is the physical curse that seems to fall on artists above most others.
It seems scarcely necessary to point out how important it is for those who propose to take up the life of the stage or the platform to look to hardening themselves against catching cold, by friction of the skin, cold bathing, etc. The use of a sponge-bath of cold salt and water to the upper parts of the body, especially the neck and chest, will prove valuable in many cases, but the enervating effects of hot water should be avoided by all.
The remarks made in regard to Wagner's music on [page 257] have been among the very few to which exception has been taken by my reviewers.
To those who disagree with me on the merits of the case I have nothing to say, but some have assumed that the writer was speaking out of pure theory, in real ignorance of Wagner's works. I wish to set that class of critics right.