The craving to be able to put some mysterious-looking letters after their name, has become a positive mania among those whose occupation, mainly, is that of teaching music in its humbler spheres. The result is that institutions of all kinds, good, bad, indifferent or altogether worthless, have been springing up all over the country with a view to satisfy this longing and, _inter alia_, take benefit by the fees that are willingly paid by the applicants, who may be said, veritably, to be numbered in thousands.
I am afraid they little know, poor people, how absolutely indifferent the public have gradually become to this matter of certificates of efficiency. People, in fact, have become so accustomed nowadays to see a whole string of letters after a person's name, which in ninety cases out of a hundred have no significance to them whatever, that, beyond flattering the vanity of the individual, the use of letters authorised by these self-appointed institutions has no effect. The least educated could hardly be deceived by them.
That certificates from such places as the Royal College of Music, Trinity College, or the Royal Academy of Music are valuable to the young teacher, there is not the slightest doubt, but that the fact of similar ones being positively showered on young people from one end of the land to the other must, unless something is done, soon darken the prestige and lower the value of even these, I think there can be little question.
A government enquiry into the whole question is decidedly needed, for it must be remembered that the general public have neither time nor inclination to solve the intricate question of the relative value or importance of the letters placed after the names of such crowds of people in these days, and, naturally, harm must accrue to those who have passed legitimate examinations and obtained recognised degrees that are witness to their competence.
That examinations by approved persons are both desirable and even necessary it is needless to insist on.
In the years immediately following on 1880, I held the position of senior teacher in a school of considerable importance, and, becoming sensible of the solemn farce of annual examinations by teachers of their own pupils, that had been the custom of many years past, I suggested to the authorities that they should engage an examiner from one of the principal institutions. I was, accordingly, desired to go to the Royal Academy of Music and see whether that body would entertain the proposition.