sked her mother, the other day.

"Well, her verses weigh on her," said the good woman, solemnly.

And here I pledge you my word, Dolorosus, that to every one of these
statements I might append, as Miss Edgeworth does to every particularly
tough story,--"_N.B. This is a fact._" I will only add that our
Sunday-School Superintendent, who is a physician, told me that he had as
strong objections to the whole thing as I could have; but that it was no
use talking; all the other schools did it, and ours must; emulation was
the order of the day. "Besides," he added, with that sort of cheerful
hopelessness peculiar to his profession, "the boys are not trying for
the prize much, this year; and as for the girls, they would probably
lose their health very soon, at any rate, and may as well devote it to a
sacred cause."

Do not misunderstand me. The supposed object in this case is a good one,
just as the object in week-day schools is a good one,--to communicate
valuable knowledge and develop the powers of the mind. The defect in
policy, in both cases, appears to be, that it totally defeats its own
aim, renders the employments hateful that should be delightful, and
sacrifices the whole powers, so far as its influence goes, without any
equivalent. All excess defeats itself. As a grown man can work more in
ten hours than in fifteen, taking a series of days together, so a child
can make more substantial mental progress in five hours daily than in
ten. Your child's mind is not an earthen jar, to be filled by pouring
into it; it is a delicate plant, to be wisely and healthfully reared;
and your wife might as well attempt to enrich her mignonette-bed by
laying a Greek Lexicon upon it as try to cultivate that young nature by
a topdressing of Encyclopaedias. I use the word on high authority.
"Courage, my boy!" wrote Lord Chatham to his son, "only the Encyclopaedia
to learn!"--and the cruel diseases of a lifetime repaid Pitt for the
forcing. I do not object to the severest _quality_ of study for boys or
girls;--while their brains work, let them work in earnest. But I do
object to this immoderate and terrific _quantity_. Cut down every
school, public and private, to five hours' total work _per diem_ for the
oldest children, and four for the younger ones, and they will accomplish
more in the end than you ever saw them do in six or seven. Only give
little enough at a time, and some freshness to do it with, and you may,
if you like, send Angelin