again, you know-ha! ha! ha! Well, you are going to be in a passion, I see, and I shall only interrupt you: so, bye-bye.

Sir Peter. Plagues and tortures! Can't I make her angry either! Oh, I am the most miserable fellow! But I'll not bear her presuming to keep her temper: no! she may break my heart, but she shan't keep her temper. Sheridan.

301. THE ITALIAN IN ENGLAND.

THAT second time they hunted me from hill to plain, from shore to sea, and Austria, hounding far and wide her blood-hounds thro' the country-side, breathed hot and instant on my trace, I made six days a hiding-place of that dry green old aqueduct where I and Charles, when boys, have plucked the fire-flies from the roof above, bright creeping thro' the moss they love: - how long it seems since Charles was lost! Six days the soldiers crossed and crossed the country in my very sight; and when that peril ceased at night, the sky broke out in red dismay with signal fires; well, there I lay close covered o'er in my recess, up to the neck in ferns and cress, thinking on Metternich our friend, and Charles's miserable end, and much beside, two days; the third, hunger o'ercame me when I heard the peasants from the village go to work among the maize; you know, with us in Lombardy, they bring provisions packed on mules, a string with little bells that cheer their task, and casks, and boughs on every cask to keep the sun's heat from the wine; these I let pass in jingling line, and, close on them, dear noisy crew, the peasants from the village, too; for at the very rear would troop their wives and sisters in a group to help, I knew. When these had passed, I threw my glove to strike the last, taking the chance: she did not start, much less cry out, but stooped apart, one instant rapidly glanced round, and saw me beckon from the ground. A wild bush grows and hides my crypt; she picked my glove up while she stripped a branch off, then rejoined the rest with that; my glove lay in her breast. Then I drew breath; they disappeared: it was for Italy I feared.

An hour, and she returned alone exactly where my glove was thrown. Meanwhile came many thoughts: on me rested the hopes of Italy. I had devised a certain tale which, when 'twas told her, could not fail persuade a peasant of its truth; I meant to call a freak of youth this hiding, and give hopes of pay, and no temptation to betray. But when I saw that woman's face, its calm simplicity of grace, our Italy's own attitude in which she walked thus far, and stood, planting each naked foot so firm, to crush the snake and spare the worm- - at first sight of her eyes, I said, "I am that man upon whose head they fix the price, because I hate the

if

Austrians over us: the State will give you gold-oh, gold so much!—if you betray me to their clutch, and be your death, for aught I know, once they find you saved their foe. Now, you must bring me food and drink, and also paper, pen and ink, and carry safe what I shall write to Padua, which you'll reach at night before the duomo shuts; go in, and wait till Tenebrae begin; walk to the third confessional, between the pillar and the wall, and kneeling whisper, 'Whence comes peace?' Say it a second time, then cease; and if the voice inside returns, 'From Christ and Freedom; what concerns the cause of Peace?' —for answer, slip my letter where you placed your lip; then come back happy we have done our mother service-I, the son, as you the daughter of our land!"

Three mornings more, she took her stand in the same place, with the same eyes: I was no surer of sunrise than of her coming. We conferred of her own prospects, and I heard she had a lover-stout and tall, she said then let her eyelids fall, "He could do much " - as if some doubt entered her heart, — then, passing out, “she could not speak for others, who had other thoughts; herself she knew;" and so she brought me drink and food. After four days, the scouts pursued another path; at last arrived the help my Paduan friends contrived to furnish me: she brought the news. For the first time I could not choose but kiss her hand, and lay my own upon her head-"This faith was shown to Italy, our mother; she uses my hand and blesses thee." She followed down to the sea-shore; I left and never saw her more.

How very long since I have thought concerning-much less wished for-aught beside the good of Italy, for which I live and mean to die! I never was in love; and since Charles proved false, what shall now convince my inmost heart I have a friend? However, if I pleased to spend real wishes on myself—say, three - I know at least what one should be. I would grasp Metternich until I felt his red wet throat distil in blood thro' these two hands. And next, -nor much for that am I perplexed -Charles, perjured traitor, for his part, should die slow of a broken heart under his new employers. Last-ah, there, what should I wish? For fast do I grow old and out of strength. If I resolved to seek at length my father's house again, and scared they all would look, and unprepared! My brothers live in Austria's pay — disowned me long ago, men say; and all my early mates who used to praise me so-perhaps induced more than one early step of mine-are turning wise: while some opine "Freedom grows license," some suspect "Haste breeds delay," and recollect they always said, such premature beginnings never could endure! So, with a sullen "All's for best," the land seems settling to its rest. I think

then, I should wish to stand this evening in that dear, lost land, over the sea the thousand miles, and know if yet that woman smiles with the calm smile; some little farm she lives in there, no doubt: what harm if I sat on the door-side bench, and, while her spindle made a trench fantastically in the dust, inquired of all her fortunes-just her children's ages and their names, and what may be the husband's aims for each of them. I'd talk this out, and sit there, for an hour about, then kiss her hand once more, and lay mine on her head, and go my way.

So much for idle wishing-how it steals the time! To business now. Browning.

XXXVIII. DEVELOPMENT OF METHOD.

THE penetrative logical or methodic action of the mind is an element in all expression. It is both conscious and unconscious. It is not only a characteristic of reason but of instinct. Method is simply the mode of action or the natural sequence of ideas in the human mind. It belongs to all thinking. It is a characteristic not only of oratory but of all poetry, of all dramatic composition, of all stories, of all literature.

Chaotic action of the mind in reading and speaking is very common and takes many forms. One violation of true logical action, in Vocal Expression, consists in confused wandering off upon tangents during the calling of words, with occasional images, but without a definite sequence of thought. Reading may be only the repeating of words, or the giving of each idea without any relation to other ideas.

Natural and effective speaking and reading is primarily dependent upon the logical sequence of the mind in thinking. The conceptions must succeed each other according to the law of association of ideas, and must dominate the feeling and the act of expression.

The development of this power is very important. All the steps so far taken are intended for the development of the method of the mind. The orderly sequence of ideas, the relation of ideas to each other, and the relation of this to conversation, is a practical study of a most important phase of logic.

Logical method cannot be developed, however, by mere analysis; it must be developed practically by speaking upon the feet, by conversation, and by the simple and natural rendering of the best literature.

There are many exercises which furnish simple and effective means of practically developing the logical actions of the mind in relation to expression. Logical method is primarily an instinct, and must be trained in connection with the presentation of thoughts to other minds. Hence there should be long continued practice and strict discipline in logical conversation or discussion and various kinds of speaking.

Aside from the steps already given, a few problems may be enumerated for the development of this action of the mind.

Problem LXXV.

Tell some simple story in as few words as possible, with the events arranged in a natural order.

Problem LXXVI. Give, after careful observation, an adequate but simple and brief description of some object or scene, torical building, or battle-field.

some his

Problem LXXVII. Visit some great picture or work of art, study it contemplatively and sympathetically, and suggest in a few words its meaning and its spirit.

Problem LXXVIII. Give the argument of some great poem as definitely and adequately as possible, but in a few words.

Problem LXXIX. Give the argument of a Greek play, or that of some strong drama, retaining as much as possible its dramatic spirit and movement.

Problem LXXX. State the arguments on both sides of some vital question of the day.

Problem LXXXI. State the arguments and their order in Æschines' oration against Ktestiphon, and those which Demosthenes used in his defense in his great Oration on the Crown.

Problem LXXXII. Debate with another, stating definitely but courteously every argument. Be sure to recognize and state with their true force the arguments of an opponent.

Such exercises as these will test and train the insight of a student into fundamentals and cultivate his power of observation. They will also test his ability to awaken interest in other minds. They will also reveal the student's mind more clearly to the teacher and to himself, and steps can be taken to improve any weak action. They also develop self-possession and power to think upon his feet. Such methods test the range of the reading of the student. They bring him into close contact with the greatest and best thoughts of his race.

There is no need to speak of the mental discipline to be acquired from such work as this, or of its aid in the study of literature. Much of the study of literature is too mechanical and artificial, and tends merely to be philological. This method will lead to deeper participation in the fundamental spirit, and secure a broader comprehension and appreciation of a poem or work of literary art. A student by this means may be led to a practical study of the literature of all times; he may be given a drama of the Greeks, or some book in French or German. The teacher of elocution may also in this case use the studies the student is pursuing with other teachers. The teacher of expression will strive to study the minds of students in expressing those things in which they are most interested. For this reason, he needs often to seek advice from teachers in other departments, to find the real needs of students; and if he has done his duty, he may also be able in turn to give counsel of great value to other teachers.

sources.

The subjects for discussion can be taken from a great many Students should often be left to select for themselves. As in most colleges they do not have a great deal of time to prepare for Vocal Expression and speaking, it is important that they should speak upon something in which they are most interested. The teacher's business is to criticise, to give the student practice, and to see that his ideas have logical sequence and that he is thinking upon his feet.