in the form of college requirements. They have abandoned all initiative; have renounced their birthright of interpreting, and ministering to, the needs of one stage of life; have had little professional training; have little interest in education in the large meaning of that term; and care little for work of the lower grades. Their motto almost seems to be Non vitæ sed scholæ discimus. The result is that boys, who insist more on their own individuality, leave the high school: in the country at large about sixty per cent of its pupils are now girls. Noble ideals are gone; the independent function of the secondary stage of education is almost abandoned; and the pupil and teacher devote themselves to a routine of tasks in an artificial programme imposed by the will of others, and fitting not for the world but for college. The pupils do not regard their work as set on a basis which gives it a value and a meaning in itself to which each day contributes. Nothing can be done then until the high school takes a stronger hold on the interests and affections of the pupil.

At the sessions of the representatives of New England high schools and colleges, all the discussions and interests centre more and more in the details of how to fit in this and that study, and whether a little more or less should be required or methods tinkered. College requirements, and suggestions how they may be best met, have ceased to be educational themes in any large sense. It is high time to reverse this relation. The college depends on the high school, and not vice versa. The latter should declare its independence, and proceed to solve its own problems in its own way; it should strive to fit for life those whose education stops here, and should bring the college to meet its own demands. It should ask again how best to feed the interests and capacities peculiar to this age; how to fill and develop mind, heart, will, and body, rather than how to distil a budget of prepared knowledge decreed by professors who know no more of the needs of this age than teachers of other grades. The current "link" theory and practice interfere, moreover, with the natural selective functions; favor uniformity and inflexibility; and ignore the needs of the majority of high-school pupils who go no farther.

Under this condition it is idle to study adolescence or to plan for it, because nothing worth while can be done; although the inverse relation I plead for would be vastly to the interests of the colleges, and would in a few years greatly increase their classes and the efficacy of the whole system. Few institutions of modern civilization so distrust human nature as does the modern, American high school, when under college domination. For lower grades the law of compulsory attendance is analogous to a high protective tariff, which removes the stimulus to bet

ter methods of manufacture, and interferes with the law of competition which is the mainspring of evolution. The high school is no less effectively protected against the currents of new ideas, and is left to be a victim of tradition, routine, the iron law of mechanism. It takes the easiest way by working under the shelter and dictation of the college above and on the momentum of the grammar school below. This, I believe, accounts for the rapidly decreasing numbers as we go up the high-school classes; for the decreasing proportion of high-school boys who go to college; for the preponderance of girls in the high school; and for the educational apathy of the high-school teacher, who is prone to all the narrowness and affectation of the specialist, without his redeeming virtue of productiveness in research.

The teacher must teach more, and know more; he must be a living fountain, not a stagnant pool. He should not be a dealer in desiccated, second-hand knowledge, a mere giver-out and hearer of lessons. That is the chief and humiliating difference between our secondary teachers and those abroad, who are mostly Doctors of Philosophy, as they should be. If we could move many university professors to the college, many college professors to the high school, many high-school teachers to the grammar school, and some grammar-school teachers, with at least a sprinkling of college graduates, into the kindergarten, it would do much. In the German and French schools, the teacher is one who knows a great deal about his subject and is nearer to original sources; who tells the great truths of the sciences almost like stories; and who does not affect the airs and methods of the university professor. Very many secondary teachers are masters and authorities. Here, most of our university pedagogy is a mere device for so influencing high-school principals and teachers as to correlate curricula, in order to corral in students, and little interest is taken in the grammar grades, and none in the kindergarten.

I have spoken frankly, and have dealt only with general principles over a vast field, far too large to be adequately discussed here. I have carefully avoided all details, although I have fully worked them out on paper at great length, for each topic to the close of the high-school period or the age of nineteen, when physical growth is essentially completed. This material will soon appear in a volume. The chief petition in my daily prayer now is for a millionaire. With the means at hand, I have no shadow of doubt or fear but that in five years from the date of any adequate gift, we shall be able to invite all interested to a system of education, covering this ground, which will be a practical realization of much present prophecy, and which will commend itself even to the most

conservative defenders of things as they are and have been, because the best things established will be in it. But it will be essentially pedocentric rather than scholiocentric; it may be a little like the Reformation which insisted that the Sabbath, the Bible, and the Church were made for man and not he for them; it will fit both the practices and the results of modern science and psychological study; it will make religion and morals more effective; and, perhaps, above all, it will give individuality in the school its full rights as befits a republican form of government, and will contribute something to bring the race to the higher maturity of the superman that is to be, effectiveness in developing which is the highest and final test of art, science, religion, home, state, literature, and every human institution. G. STANLEY HALL.

ROYAL VISITS TO CANADA: A HISTORICAL RETROSPECT.

THE present year, memorable in itself as the beginning of a new century, will be especially notable in Canadian history for the occurrence of two events, deeply interesting to the Canadian people as devoted subjects of the British Sovereign and citizens of the British Empire. In January there came the sad tidings of the death of the great Queen who had reigned for over sixty years, and had indelibly impressed her name and virtues on the hearts of her people throughout her wide imperial domains. Many memorials are being raised in Canada, as in other parts of the Empire, to commemorate her beneficent rule and her character as Queen, wife, and mother; but perhaps the most significant tribute the Canadians will pay to her memory will be given on the occasion of the visit of her grandson, this month and the next, on his return from the countries which owe allegiance to England in Australasia, Asia, and Africa. This tribute will be not a mere evanescent ebullition of loyalty, but a very significant illustration of that sincere sentiment of devotion to Crown and Empire which has been a distinctive feature of the Canadian provinces for more than a century, and has found its strongest expression during the reign of the Queen whom we so lately mourned, and whose grandson we are about to welcome with so many demonstrations of affection.

This visit of a royal prince, the heir-apparent to the throne, naturally recalls similar events in the past history of Canada. Though these visits have been but rare during more than a century, and, like those of angels, generally "short and bright," they yet form so many milestones from which we can measure the social, political, and material development of the provinces which now form the Dominion. We observe, as we look back, that these royal visitors came to our country at the beginning of new epochs in our history, when the conditions of the population were on the point of undergoing radical changes, destined to have most momentous influence on the national character, especially in the way of strengthening and perpetuating British institutions, and of giving the people larger opportunities of showing their capacity for work

ing out the principles of representative and parliamentary government in that portion of North America still loyal to England.

When Prince William Henry, afterward William IV, first visited Halifax, in 1786, as commander of the frigate Pegasus, the Acadian and Canadian provinces were just in the formative stage of their development as dominions of the British King. Nova Scotia had been a possession of England since the Treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, and had enjoyed representative government since 1758. Canada had been formally ceded to England by the Treaty of Paris, in 1763, and her "new subjects," the French Canadians, received in 1774, in the passage of the Quebec Act, an evidence of the spirit of justice and kindness which their rulers were prepared to show them. This measure established a Legislative Council in which French Canadians were represented, and gave full protection to their language, religion, and civil law.

Then came to pass, at this critical period in the development of isolated, struggling provinces, a notable event which has had a most remarkable influence on their future as portions of the British Empire. During 1783 and 1784, there came to the shores of Nova Scotia, to the valley of the St. John, and to the banks of the St. Lawrence and the Niagara, upward of 40,000 men, women, and children who had retained their allegiance to the Crown and Empire during the sad days of the American Revolution. When these people arrived in the provinces still faithful to England, the total British population of British North America did not exceed 12,000 souls, of whom the greater number were in Nova Scotia. On the banks of the St. Lawrence there was a French population of nearly 100,000 persons, living chiefly between Quebec and Montreal. No British people were found west of Lake St. Louis, and what is now the rich and prosperous province of Ontario was an entire wilderness, except where loyal refugees had sought protection near the English fort at Niagara, or a few French settlers had made homes on the banks of the Detroit. Many of the British inhabitants of Canada and Nova Scotia, who had come originally from New England, were of doubtful loyalty to the Crown; and one district in the Acadian province, on account of its avowed sympathy with the revolutionists, was not allowed to send representatives to the Assembly.

The coming of many thousand people who had proved so clearly their attachment to Great Britain by their self-sacrifice was one of the happiest events, in a national sense, that could have occurred in the case of a country where the proportion of English-speaking colonists was until then so insignificant. This migration of people of proved loyalty de