he gives to ensure the correct position of the hand
on the key-board, or the fingering of a scale.
Obviously then, as local examinations do not pretend to educate, and as the examiner only makes
the best of things as he finds them, the London
colleges, instead of doing anything for education in
the provinces, simply do nothing for it. Musical
education such as it is-is simply helping to pay
vast sums of money to the London colleges: a sufficient amount, possibly, to have established a school
for music!
Glasgow and Edinburgh have long acknowledged that musical art can never make real progress in our midst until a centre of musical education is established and conducted on the same principles as the best Conservatoires on the Continent or in London; but there has been nothing as yet but talk. Nor is there much probability of anything being done in the future unless the matter is taken up by the professional musicians themselves. The London institutions have been quick to see that the provinces required something authoritative-something bearing a name and a red seal-and have come forward with their Local Examination Scheme. This has replenished their coffers, but has it done any good besides? If it has, the good is rapidly becoming a flagrant evil, because a thorough musical education is not sought for as it should be. The would-be musical public no longer asks for education, it only wants to pass an examination. And what is the consequence? More incapable teachers than ever. Fortunately principals of schools are gradually finding this out, and candidates for a situation find their examination certificates viewed with a considerable amount of suspicion.
Before leaving the educational side of this question, a few words remain to be said regarding the influence of examinations upon the individual. A student, whatever his pursuit, requires encouragement; not, of course, the encouragement of his friends, for that, even although judicious and well intended, often does more harm than good. The interest of the student is aroused when he begins to see his way into a subject; and only when the true purpose of music as an art—(not as a short cut to an examination)—begins to reveal itself to him is he really encouraged to pursue his studies further. If a candidate succeeds in passing an examination, it has one of two effects. Either she (for the candidates are mostly ladies) stops at that point, and her friends exert their influence to procure her a situation; or, if she does not require to teach, the document may be framed and hung on the wall, while the owner is expected to do her best for the entertainment of friends at musical 'At Homes' or Charity Concerts. Seldom indeed does the possession of an important-looking document have the effect of encouraging a lady to pursue the art for its own sake. Those who are really in earnest go to Germany or London as soon as they can. Then, in the case of failure. The poor unfortunate is either pitied or laughed at; and although a few kind souls endeavour to show her that she was unfairly treated, or the victim of nervousness or mischance, they cannot succeed in rekindling the latent spark of enthusiasm which may have existed. It has been our endeavour in this article to show, that the influence exerted by Local Examinations on musical education is worse than useless, or positively injurious. In a future number we shall take up the matter briefly from the professional point of view, and, at the same time, say a few words as to the plans which might be adopted for promoting the establishment of a School of Music in Scotland.
LIBRA.
THE NEW COVENANT ODE.
To be called upon to write a work for a special occasion and more especially such an occasion as the inauguration of an International Exhibition must at all times be rather a thankless task for a composer. It is quite a different thing when the choice of a subject is left in the hands of the musician himself, and he is at liberty to select a theme which may inspire his imagination, or, at all events, absorb his attention sufficiently to enable him to forget that he is engaged upon a work that must contain certain effects, and be written to a given pattern.
Dr. Mackenzie seems to us evidently to have felt this, for he has made no attempt to free himself from conventionality. He has been given what was, to him, an uninteresting subject, and the result is an uninteresting composition. The composer of 'La belle Dame sans Merci' and 'Colomba' would, we have no doubt, make an attempt to work himself into a condition of mind that might bear
