me, and that I CAN'T get rid of him. He
makes of me a Promethean Tommy, bound;
and he is the vulture that gorges itself upon
the liver of my uninstructed mind.

LITTLE ITALY'S SCHOOL-BELL.

"RINGLE- tingle- tingle- ring- ting- ting."
Now, my little friends (says dame Progress,
appearing at the door, her active fingers never
ceasing their work, her eager eyes scanning the
disordered legions), time, time! No more lying
in the sunny corners, no more ruinous gambling
with brass buttons, no more duckings and
divings for the amusement of travelling boobies
as idle as yourselves, begging, bickering, and
leading of lives such as an intelligent street
cur, if he had the chance, would proudly reject
in favour of his own. Come in, I say, every
boy of you, and listen to me. Gaetano, put on
your shoes. Do that again, Luigi, and I'll——

Well, you have played at soldiers long
enough, and—mercy, Giuseppe! what a cut the
boy has got! "Fighting with the Roman
fellow?" Served you right, then. You were
brothers. " Thrashed him all the same, would
you, if it hadn't been for the big French bully
that always takes his part?" Well, you knew
he would do so, and that he is three tunes your
size! No more swimming-matches, nor sailing
of boats, for the present. Remember what
happened on the pond at Lissa, from going out
without your corks. Boys of other schools are
busy with their tasks, or amusing themselves
with their own little games, and here's a
beautiful opportunity for you and me. Antonio,
and Pietro, stand apart. Giovenico, instead of
egging them on, stand between them, and
mind, my eye is upon you.

Something very dreadful has been pubh'cly
told of you lately—something, my boys, that
might excuse what most of you are doing now,
putting your fingers in your mouths, ashamed.
Seventeen millions, out of twenty-five, that
have not learned to read and write! I am
quite shocked. If it had not been said by a
statesman and a newspaper, that always
speak truth, I could have hoped there was a
mistake. It is horrible, and I don't think I
can go on.

I need not ask you, children, whether you have
heard the name of Giuseppe Garib——
Hush! You stun me. Shout when I've done.
Well, this Giuseppe—too wise to be a statesman,
too great to be a king—desiring to free
you from tho bondage of the most cruel and
oppressive tyrant of the age—ignorance—seeks
no allies but the liberal and enlightened heart,
no weapons but those of peace and love.

He knows—and we know—that the strife is
strong, and that the victory will be hard. For
ignorance is slow to overcome, and has but
too large a body of devoted adherents, whose
intfivst it is that the tyrant should continue to
hold the human race in thrall.

The war-note, however, has sounded. The
battle has begun. You know what Giuseppe
said, when they wrote to him that they were
about to erect a statue to his honour. " While
one child, in the district you govern, remains
uneducated, raise no statue to me."

Now, my children, though reading, and
writing, and the certainty that two and two
are four—are excellent acquirements, as far as
they go—(and that is, at present, far ahead
of us) people cannot always live upon and by
them. Know that your well-wishers do not
limit their desires and efforts to teaching you
these—to giving you the key of wisdom's
treasure-chest—and leaving you, uncertain and
bewildered, in the presence of her rich and
varied store. They would—under that
Providence which they pray may guide their
judgment—become instrumental in directing yours.

Our Italy has many a school already, where
such an education as I have described is lucidly
and sedulously bestowed; but the task of the
teachers seems to end where that which we
propose to ourselves really begins. You must
not alone be made reading and writing
machines, but must be put in the way to become
as you grow up, good husbands and fathers—
good wives and mothers—good citizens, good
soldiers, good men.

The idea suggested by Garibaldi has been
understood and accepted in his own country;
but, at present, that country is poor, oppressed
with debt, laden with inevitable taxation. Good
people, in countries blessed with peace and
plenty, have come to our aid, and large-handed
England, whose heart was with us in our fight
for freedom, now assists us to realise the
benefits that freedom brings.

Folks there are, I am told, who grumble,
and demand why, seeing that there are still
poor and ignorant people at home, the money
is not all given to them. My boys, mankind is
but one family. If the meal within the house
has been but coarse and scanty, shall the
beggar without be left to perish for need of the
crumbs? When England, in a time of trial,
received large gifts for her suffering thousands
from France and America, I do not remember
that any voice in those noble countries was
raised against that generous recognition of the
universal brotherhood of man.

It is the very success of liberal home efforts
that has encouraged our English friends to
give them a wider extension. In Ireland
schools, such as those proposed for us, have
been some time established. Not only have
they answered their original benevolent end,
but have attained another, not the least
advantage of which is, that it silences the
grumblers I have alluded to. The schools support
themselves.

Boys and girls, is it not a better thing to
live by the labour of your own honest hands—
to become useful, active, intelligent beings—
than to lie wallowing among the clods of the
earth? I see by your attention that you are
listening to me, and striving to comprehend
what you are invited to do. Well, then, first,
what is to be learned? I will tell you.