Stephen Phillips, in the first act of _Paolo and Francesca,_ outdoes
all his predecessors, ancient or modern, in his daring use of sibylline
prophecy. He makes Giovanni's blind foster-mother, Angela, foretell the
tragedy in almost every detail, save that, in her vision, she cannot see
the face of Francesca's lover. Mr. Phillips, I take it, is here
reinforcing ancient tradition by a reference to modern "psychical
research." He trusts to our conceiving such clairvoyance to be not
wholly impossible, and giving it what may be called provisional
credence. Whether the device be artistic or not we need not here
consider. I merely point to it as a conspicuous example of the use of
the finger-post.[4]

It need scarcely be said that a misleading finger-post is carefully to
be avoided, except in the rare cases where it may be advisable to beget
a momentary misapprehension on the part of the audience, which shall be
almost instantly corrected in some pleasant or otherwise effective
fashion.[5] It is naturally difficult to think of striking instances of
the misleading finger-posts; for plays which contain such a blunder are
not apt to survive, even in the memory. A small example occurs in a
clever play named _A Modern Aspasia_ by Mr. Hamilton Fyfe. Edward
Meredith has two households: a London house over which his lawful wife,
Muriel, presides; and a country cottage where dwells his mistress,
Margaret, with her two children. One day Muriel's automobile breaks down
near Margaret's cottage, and, while the tyre is being repaired, Margaret
gives her visitor tea, neither of them knowing the other. Throughout the
scene we are naturally wondering whether a revelation is to occur; and
when, towards the close, Muriel goes to Margaret's room, "to put her hat
straight," we have no longer any doubt on the subject. It is practically
inevitable that she should find in the room her husband's photograph, or
some object which she should instantly recognize as his, and should
return to the stage in full possession of the secret. This is so
probable that nothing but a miracle can prevent it: we mentally give the
author credit for bringing about his revelation in a very simple and
natural way; and we are proportionately disappointed when we find that
the miracle has occurred, and that Muriel returns to the sitting-room no
wiser than she left it. Very possibly the general economy of the play
demanded that the revelation should not take place at this junc