superior to the old plan of the all-round ordinarius, at any rate in the case of Secondary Schools.

To combat this sectional exclusiveness of the specialist teacher there must be a conscious effort and a united effort. It will not do for one teacher on a school staff to initiate correlation. Cases have been known where the energy of one teacher has saturated a whole school with his particular subject; where, for instance, mathematics, woodwork, drawing, geography, classics and French have all been reduced by the powerful and ceaseless activities of an enthusiastic history specialist to the position of ministering angels to his own subject, each dutifully paying its quota of exercises and sidelights on the dominant subject of the school. But even in the new teaching a case of this kind is rare, and is only to be found when the rest of the teaching staff are more or less lethargic, or when the conquering specialist has first of all subjugated the head master. If, as ought to be the case, the majority of the staff are pushing and energetic teachers of their subjects, much mutual concession and agreement will be necessary, or an attempt to establish, correlation will degenerate into a sort of fight for supremacy among the muses. The ideal of the new teaching is that there should be frequent discussions in the common room of the syllabuses of the various subjects, and that teachers ought to take council with one another at intervals on the problem of correlation. Unfortunately there is very little of this at present in "specialist" schools; a desire for sectional independence and an unwillingness to intrude into other teachers' work, a sort of "live and let live" theory, has prevented a satisfactory system of correlation from being established in more than a very few of our Secondary Schools.

In one direction there is a tendency of the teachers of other subjects to poach on the domain of the history master, but against it no great objection need be raised. So far as the history of the development of particular sciences is concerned, it will probably be best if the instructors in each subject are left to provide the necessary information. Thus the chemistry teacher will give an account of the development of chemical research, the mathematical teacher will deal with Archimedes, Galileo and Newton, and the English master will trace the history of language, metre and style. But there is much scope for correlation of the other type. The history teacher will find very frequent cause to bring in references to the subject-matter of the various subjects, and we may expect that other teachers will find many occasions on which it will be useful and indeed necessary to illustrate their lessons by historical allusions.

CHAPTER IX

(a) MUSIC

BY PERCY C. BUCK, M.A., Mus. Doc.

REVOLUTIONS, to the looker-on, present three phases. In an existing order of things a new idea, in some way contrary to and subversive of that order, comes to birth, passes through a period of germination, and finally, challenging the established order in the open, is itself either established or overthrown. And the history of Music and Education, no less than that of Political and Social life, is the story of Ideas crystallizing themselves into Institutions, which in turn are overthrown by newer ideas. For ideas are fermentation, institutions are stagnation, and all progress comes from the duel between rest and motion.

Middle-aged men have already witnessed one such revolution in education; for the ideas which reigned unchallenged in their boyhood are now so extinct as to seem, in retrospect, almost medieval. But in this particular revolution the new idea was one which, in spite of its success in ousting the old dynasty, has never established itself as a guiding principle in education. Every one was grateful to the pioneers of a movement which freed us from a conception of education which had become intolerable, and every one was, in consequence, tolerant for a time of the principles which these pioneers proposed to substitute. But the new idea

was from the first received with more than a little suspicion, and the malcontents have, during the last thirty years or so, become so numerous that they are now endeavouring, by a counter-revolution, to establish governing principles quite different in nature; and it is the new idea behind this counter-revolution which has been christened the "New Teaching."

The developments summarized in the above paragraph must now be considered in detail, since without a clear understanding of what actual changes have occurred no grasp can be obtained of what is meant by the new ideas as applied to music-teaching. Up to forty years ago this was founded on one adamantine and unyielding principle; from beginning to end there loomed the stark figure of the Law. At his first lesson a pupil was told how to hold his hands, and at his last how to write the coda to his symphony, not with any reference to the particular hand or symphony, or even the particular pupil, but because it was all in the code of the mandarins. A long succession of high-priests, each initiating his successor, had preserved the mysteries of the craft and zealously guarded the sacred truths-guarded them, as a wit remarked, with "flaming umbrellas"; to doubt was blasphemy, to ask for a reason impertinence. Any musician who was a student at that period could with ease recall scores of dogmas then expounded to him with Athanasian assurance which would be greeted with mockery by the students of to-day. And in confirmation of this, lest it should be thought mere rhetorical exaggeration, let two examples be given from the writer's own experience.

In his Harmony text-book he was told that, in a major key, the common chord on the mediant could not

be used and as often as he used it (being by nature sceptical and perverse) his masters industriously bluepencilled it. In his text-book on Composition and Form he was told, solemnly and seriously, that every variation must preserve intact the harmony of the original theme.

It would indeed be difficult (one could wish it were impossible) to convince the average student of to-day that his masters were taught the Art of Music on precisely the same principles as they were taught their Latin Grammar; this was allowed, that was wrong, something else was an exception. No touch of humanity or emotion was allowed to peep out through any chink of the subject, and no teacher who was a true Lawgiver ever allowed for any humanity in his pupil; and the rebukes administered when the burning question "Why?" burst through all repression still make hot with anger some of those who suffered from them.

Thirty years ago, however, the reaction against this martinet system had already begun, and students were perhaps unlucky who did not find their way into the hands of at least one teacher who was born of God and not of a machine. The leaven of a new idea was quietly working, and its essence lay in a realization of the fact that the individual mattered. Professor Adams has put the case deftly in an illustration which cannot too often be quoted. If the task in hand, he says, was to teach John Latin-Johannem docere Latinam-the old teachers considered that the one essential thing was to know Latin; whereas the newer kind realized the necessity of knowing John. The discovery sounds so promising that one could have expected a long and fruitful period to ensue in which all teaching, fertilized and vitalized by the new conception, would reach a