six hours of session.  A committee of inquiry was appointed.  They interrogated the grammar-school teachers.  The innocent and unsuspecting teachers were amazed at the suggestion of any excess.  Most of them promptly replied, in writing, that “they had never heard of any complaints on this subject from parents or guardians”; that “most of the masters were watchful upon the matter”; that “none of them pressed out-of-school studies”; while “the general opinion appeared to be, that a moderate amount of out-of-school study was both necessary for the prescribed course of study and wholesome in its influence on character and habits.”  They suggested that “commonly the ill health that might exist arose from other causes than excessive study”; one attributed it to the use of confectionery, another to fashionable parties, another to the practice of “chewing pitch,”—­anything, everything, rather than admit that American children of fourteen could possibly be damaged by working only two hours day more than Walter Scott.

However, the committee thought differently.  At any rate, they fancied that they had more immediate control over the school-hours than they could exercise over the propensity of young girls for confectionery, or over the improprieties of small boys who, yet immature for tobacco, touched pitch and were defiled.  So by their influence was passed that immortal Section 7 of Chapter V. of the School Regulations,—­the Magna Charta of childish liberty, so far as it goes, and the only safeguard which renders it prudent to rear a family within the limits of Boston:—­

“In assigning lessons to boys to be studied out of school-hours, the instructors shall not assign a longer lesson than a boy of good capacity can acquire by an hour’s study; but no out-of-school lessons shall be assigned to girls, nor shall the lessons to be studied in school be so long as to require a scholar of ordinary capacity to study out of school in order to learn them.”

It appears that since that epoch this rule has “generally” been observed, “though many of the teachers would prefer a different practice.”  “The rule is regarded by some as an uncomfortable restriction, which without, adequate reason (!) retards the progress of pupils.”  “A majority of our teachers would consider the permission to assign lessons for study at home to be a decided advantage and privilege.”  So say the later reports of the committee.

Fortunately for Angelina and the junior members of the house of Dolorosus, you are not now directly dependent upon Boston regulations.  I mention them only because they represent a contest which is inevitable in every large town in the United States where the public-school system is sufficiently perfected to be dangerous.  It is simply the question, whether children can bear more brain-work than men can.  Physiology, speaking through my humble voice, (the personification may remind you of the days when men began poems with “Inoculation, heavenly maid!”)