the case. The talented governess in "Little Truths" warns her pupils not to swallow young frogs out of bravado, lest perchance they should mistake and swallow a toad, which would poison them; and in a "History of Birds and Beasts," intended for very young children, we find, underneath a woodcut of a porcupine, this unwarranted and irrelevant assertion:—
This creature shoots his pointed quills,
And beasts destroys, and men;
But more the ravenous lawyer kills
With his half-quill, the pen.
It was thus that natural history was taught in the year 1767.
The publication in 1798 of Mr. Edgeworth's "Practical Education" (Miss Edgeworth was responsible for some of the chapters) gave a profound impetus to child-study. Little boys and girls were dragged from the obscure haven of the nursery, from their hornbooks, and the casual slappings of nursery-maids, to be taught and tested in the light of day. The process appears to have been deeply engrossing. Irregular instruction, object lessons, and experimental
