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Solutions to Chapter 8

1. Determine the output of the following code when the input is (a) –1, (b) 0, and (c) 12XY

try {
number = Integer.parseInt(
JOptionPane.showInputDialog(null, "input"));
if (number != 0) {
throw new Exception("Not Zero");
}
} catch (NumberFormatException e) {
System.out.println("Cannot convert to int");
} catch (Exception e) {
System.out.println("Error: " + e.getMessage());

a) Error: Not Zero

b) no output
c) Cannot convert to int

2. Determine the output of the following code when the input is (a) –1, (b) 0, and (c) 12XY.
This is the same question as Exercise 1, but the code here has the finally clause.

try {
number = Integer.parseInt(
JOptionPane.showInputDialog(null, "input"));
if (number != 0) {
throw new Exception("Not Zero");
}
} catch (NumberFormatException e) {
System.out.println("Cannot convert to int");
} catch (Exception e) {
System.out.println("Error: " + e.getMessage());
} finally {
System.out.println("Finally Clause Executed");
}

a) Error: Not Zero

Finally Clause Executed
b) Finally Clause Executed
c) Cannot convert to int
Finally Clause Executed

3. Why is the following code not a good use of the assertion?

public void compute(int size) {

assert size > 0;
//computation code comes here
 }

We should throw an exception because the argument is invalid instead of using an assertion.
Remember: use assertions to detect internal errors and use exceptions to notify the client
programmers of the misuse of our class.

4. Modify the following code by adding the assert statement. The value of gender is either
MALE or FEMALE if the program is running correctly.

switch (gender) {
case MALE: totalFee = tuition + parkingFee;
break;
case FEMALE: totalFee = tuition + roomAndBoard;
break;
}

We can add a control flow invariant as follows:

switch (gender) {
case MALE: totalFee = tuition + parkingFee;
break;
case FEMALE: totalFee = tuition + roomAndBoard;
break;
default: assert false:
"Value of gender " +
"is invalid. Value = " +
gender;
}

5. Modify the following method by adding the assert statement. Assume the variable factor is
a data member of the class.

public double compute(double value) {

return (value * value) / factor;
}

We can add a precondition assertion as follows:

public double compute(double value) {

assert factor != 0 :
"Serious Error – factor == 0, which will lead "
"to a division by zero";
return (value * value) / factor;
}

6. Modify the getInput method of the InputHandler class from Section 8.7 so that the
method will throw an exception when an empty string is entered for the name, room, or
password. Define a new exception class EmptyInputException.
 public void getInput( ) {
throws new EmptyInputException
name = JOptionPane.showInputDialog(null, "Enter Name:");
if (name.trim().equals(""))
throw new EmptyInputException("Name should not be empty");
room = JOptionPane.showInputDialog(null, "Enter Room No.:");
if (room.trim().equals(""))
throw new EmptyInputException("Room should not be empty");
pwd = JOptionPane.showInputDialog(null, "Enter Password:");
if (pwd.trim().equals(""))
throw new EmptyInputException("Password should not be
empty");
}

class EmptyInputException extends Exception {

private static final String DEFAULT_MESSAGE = "Empty input
string";

public EmptyInputException (String msg) {

super(msg);
}
}

7. The user module of the keyless entry system in Section 8.7 does not include any logic to
terminate the program. Modify the program so it will terminate when the values Admin,
X123, and $maTrix%TwO$ are entered for name, room, and password, respectively.

This only requires changing the validate method in Ch8EntranceMonitor, and possibly
adding some new constants.
See Ch8EntranceMonitor.java

Development Exercises
8. In the sample development, we developed the user module of the keyless entry system. For
this exercise, implement the administrative module that allows the system administrator to
add and delete Resident objects and modify information on existing Resident objects. The
module will also allow the user to open a list from a file and save the list to a file. Is it
proper to implement the administrative module by using one class? Wouldn’t it be a better
design if we used multiple classes with each class doing a single well-defined task?

The solution here splits the problem into two classes, one to handle functionality and one to
handle the interface.
See files AdminHandler.java and Ch8EntranceAdmin.java

9. Write an application that maintains the membership lists of five social clubs in a dormitory.
The five social clubs are the Computer Science Club, Biology Club, Billiard Club, No Sleep
Club, and Wine Tasting Club. Use the Dorm class to manage the membership lists.
Members of the social clubs are Resident objects of the dorm. Use a separate file to store
the membership list for each club. Your program should be able to include a menu item for
each social club. When a club is selected, open a ClubFrame frame that will allow the user
to add, delete, or modify members of the club. The program can have up to five ClubFrame
frames opened at the same time. Make sure you do not open multiple instances of
ClubFrame for the same club.

See files ClubFrame.java, ClubKeeper.java, Dorm.java, DormAdmin.java, and

Resident.java
Other documents randomly have
different content
The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Day with
Browning
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
you are located before using this eBook.

Title: A Day with Browning

Contributor: Robert Browning

Illustrator: W. Russell Flint

E. W. Haslehust
William James Neatby

Release date: August 8, 2012 [eBook #40440]

Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Delphine Lettau, Matthew Wheaton and the

Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A DAY WITH

BROWNING ***
 BROWNING
DAYS WITH POETS
A Day with Browning
"The Palazzo Giustiniani Recanati was a place of historical
association and fifteenth-century traditions.... At three o'clock
regularly, a friend's gondola, which was always at hand to convey
him, came and carried him, usually, to the Lido,—his favourite spot."

Painting by E. W. Haslehust.
BROWNING'S HOUSE IN VENICE.
A DAY WITH THE POET
BROWNING
 NEW YORK
HODDER & STOUGHTON
In the same Series.

Longfellow.
Tennyson.
Keats.
Wordsworth.
Burns.
Scott.
Byron.
Shelley.
 A DAY WITH BROWNING.

ROM his bed-room window in the Palazzo Giustiniani

Recanati, every morning in 1885, Robert Browning
watched the sunrise. "My window commands a
perfect view," he wrote, "the still, grey lagoon, the
few seagulls flying, the islet of San Giorgio in deep
shadow, and the clouds in a long purple rack, from
behind which a sort of spirit of rose burns up, till presently all the
rims are on fire with gold.... So my day begins."
The Palazzo, in which a suite of rooms had been placed by Mrs.
Bronson at the disposal of the poet and his sister, was a place of
historical association and fifteenth-century traditions. And no more
appropriate abiding-place than Venice could have been selected for a
man of Browning's temperament. The Venetian colouring was a
perpetual feast to his eye: its mediæval glories were a source of
continual inspiration. And if much of his heart still remained with his
native land, so that the London daily papers were a necessity of
existence, and a certain sense of exile occasionally obtruded itself,
we must needs be grateful to that fact for its result in certain
immortal lines:

Oh, to be in England
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brush-wood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England—now!
 And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent-spray's edge—
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower,
—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

But there had always been a frankly cosmopolitan spirit in Browning,

—no touch of parochialism or insularity. In the magnificent gallery of
portrait studies, no two alike, which his poems present to us, the
nationalities are legion. Yet Italian scenes predominate; for Browning
could gauge, with the unerring instinct of genius, all the subtleties of
the Italian temperament. So we come, at every turn, across some
ardent vision of the South,—here, Waring sailing out of Trieste under
the furled lateen-sail; and there, Fra Lippo Lippi tracking "lutestrings,
laughs, and whifts of song" down the darkling streets of Florence.
The "Patriot," riding into Brescia, "roses, roses all the way," and the
Duke of Ferrara,—that "typical representative of a whole phase of
civilisation," discussing My Last Duchess and her foolishness.

That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,

Looking as if she were alive; I call
That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
"Frà Pandolf" by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps
Frà Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps
Over my Lady's wrist too much," or "Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-flush that dies along her throat;" such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart ... how shall I say? ... too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace—all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men,—good; but thanked
Somehow ... I know not how ... as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift.
(My Last Duchess.)

That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,

Looking as if she were alive; I call
That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
"Frà Pandolf" by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there.

Painting by W. J. Neatby. MY LAST DUCHESS.

After a light and early breakfast—the poet, when abroad, lived
almost entirely on milk, fruit, etc., abjuring animal food—Browning
would follow his invariable custom, a stroll along the Riva to the
public gardens. He never failed to leave the house at the same hour
of the day: he was a man of singularly methodical habits in many
ways. "Good sense," it has been said, "was his foible, if not his
habit": and an orderly method of life was one of the strongest proofs
of this fact: another evidence lay in his care to avoid being labelled.
The disorderly locks and careless appearance of the typical poet
were quite alien to this well-groomed, cleanly-looking Englishman,
with his "sweet, grave face," silvery hair, and smooth, healthy skin.
Singularly wholesome in body as well as in mind, until past seventy
he could take the longest walks without fatigue; the splendid
eyesight of his clear grey eyes remained untarnished to the last.
These keen grey eyes of his never failed to notice anything worth
seeing in his walks: an extraordinary minuteness of observation is
perceptible in all his poems dealing with out-door life,—little touches
of detail such as few men are masters of:

And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly,

I noticed that, to-day;
One day more bursts them open fully,
—You know the red turns grey.
(The Lost Mistress.)

And again, those lines of poignant, passionate reserve, which sum

up May and Death:

I wish that when you died last May,

Charles, there had died along with you
Three parts of spring's delightful things;
Ay, and for me, the fourth part too.

A foolish thought, and worse, perhaps!

 There must be many a pair of friends
Who, arm in arm, deserve the warm
Moon-births, and the long evening-ends.

So, for their sake, be May still May!

Let their new time, as mine of old,
Do all it did for me: I bid
Sweet sights and sounds throng manifold.

Only, one little sight, one plant,

Woods have in May, that starts up green
Save a sole streak which, so to speak,
Is spring's blood, spilt its leaves between,—

That, they might spare; a certain wood

Might miss the plant; their loss were small:
But I,—whene'er the leaf grows there,
Its drop comes from my heart, that's all.

Arrived at the public gardens, Browning was careful to visit his

"friends" there and to feed them—the elephant, baboon, kangaroo,
ostrich, pelican, and marmosets. He had that particular camaraderie
with wild animals which is almost akin to a hypnotic influence over
them: and when in the country, he would "whistle softly to the
lizards basking on the low walls which border the roads, to try his
old power of attracting them." Flowers he enjoyed as a colour-feast
for the eye; scenery he revelled in. In that perpetual contemplation
of Nature, which with Wordsworth became an all-absorbent passion,
Browning had but little share: his chief interest was in man. But
"now and again external nature was for him ... pierced and shot
through with spiritual fire."
Three times punctually he would walk round the gardens, and then
walk home. Upon these daily strolls he was accompanied by his
sister Sarianna: in whose love and companionship he was singularly
fortunate. Sarianna Browning had always been the best of sisters to
the poet and his wife,—a kindred spirit in every sense of the word;
and she was now intent to supply, so far as in her lay, the place of
that "soul of fire enclosed in a shell of pearl"—Elizabeth Barrett
Browning. Of the dead wife, who had been all-in-all to him,
Browning seldom spoke in words: but his burning need of her and
hope of reunion with her gleamed continually through his writings:

"Oh, their Rafael of the dear Madonnas,

Oh, their Dante of the dread Inferno,
Wrote one song—and in my brain I sing it,
Drew one angel—borne, see, on my bosom!"

And in all his poems which deal with the love of man and woman,
"he regarded the union of soul with soul as the capital achievement
of life." He thought of love "as a supreme possession in itself, and as
a revelation of infinite things which lie beyond it: as a test of
character, and even as a pledge of perpetual advance in the life of
the spirit." Hence, even where the shadow of death broods over a
poem, as we see it In a Gondola, that shadow "glows with colour
like the shadows of a Venetian painter." Love, to the very last, is
infinitely stronger than death.

I send my heart up to thee, all my heart,

In this my singing.
For the stars help me, and the sea bears part;
The very night is clinging
Closer to Venice' streets to leave one space
Above me, whence thy face
May light my joyous heart to thee its dwelling-place.

Painting by W. Russell Flint. IN A GONDOLA.

He sings.

I send my heart up to thee, all my heart

 In this my singing.
For the stars help me, and the sea bears part;
The very night is clinging
Closer to Venice' streets to leave one space
Above me, whence thy face
May light my joyous heart to thee its dwelling-place.

She speaks.

Say after me, and try to say

My very words, as if each word
Came from you of your own accord,
In your own voice, in your own way:
"This woman's heart and soul and brain
Are mine as much as this gold chain
She bids me wear; which," (say again)
"I choose to make by cherishing
A precious thing, or choose to fling
Over the boat-side, ring by ring."
And yet once more say ... no word more!
Since words are only words. Give o'er!
Unless you call me, all the same,
Familiarly by my pet-name
Which, if the Three should hear you call,
And me reply to, would proclaim
At once our secret to them all.

* * * * *

She speaks.

There's Zanze's vigilant taper; safe are we!

Only one minute more to-night with me?
Resume your past self of a month ago!
Be you the bashful gallant, I will be
The lady with the colder breast than snow:
 Now bow you, as becomes, nor touch my hand
More than I touch yours when I step to land,
And say, "All thanks, Siora!"—
Heart to heart,
And lips to lips! Yet once more, ere we part,
Clasp me, and make me thine, as mine thou art!

(He is surprised and stabbed.)

It was ordained to be so, Sweet,—and best

Comes now, beneath thine eyes, and on thy breast.
Still kiss me! Care not for the cowards! Care
Only to put aside thy beauteous hair
My blood will hurt! The Three, I do not scorn
To death, because they never lived: but I
Have lived indeed, and so—(yet one more kiss)—can die!
(In a Gondola.)

The latter hours of the morning were devoted by the poet to work,
proof-sheets, and correspondence. He would complain bitterly of the
quantity of "ephemeral correspondence" which took up so much of
his time: yet, with the rarest exceptions, he answered every letter he
received. He counted that day lost in which he had not written at
least a little. In earlier life he had worked fast and copiously, but
now he was satisfied with twenty or thirty lines as the result of a
morning's work. And upon these lines he expended infinite trouble;
for, despite all suppositions to the contrary, he finished his work with
great care. "People accuse me of not taking pains!" he grumbled, "I
take nothing but pains!"
His subject-matter fell naturally into three groups of poems: those
interpreting love in its various phases, those occupied with art and
artists, those treating of religious ideas and emotions. And these
again may be subdivided into poems of failure and attainment: it is
hard to say which are which, for Browning was the singer of heroic
failures, and they, to him, were spiritual triumphs. He held that "we
fall to rise—are baffled to fight better,—sleep, to wake." No such
moral tonic has ever been proffered to the weary and dispirited as
the invulnerable optimism of Browning. He regarded this present life
as a state of probation and preparation; therefore, "his faith in the
unseen order of things created a hope which persists through all
apparent failure." The Miltonic ideal, "and what is else, not to be
overcome," is the core and centre of Browning's teaching.
Sometimes it refers to hopeless love, as in The Last Ride Together.

I said—Then, Dearest, since 'tis so,

Since now at length my fate I know,
Since nothing all my love avails,
Since all, my life seemed meant for, fails,
Since this was written and needs must be—

My whole heart rises up to bless

Your name in pride and thankfulness!
Take back the hope you gave,—I claim
Only a memory of the same,
—And this beside, if you will not blame,
Your leave for one more last ride with me.

My mistress bent that brow of hers;

Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs
When pity would be softening through,
Fixed me a breathing-while or two
With life or death in the balance: right!
The blood replenished me again;
My last thought was at least not vain:
I and my mistress, side by side
Shall be together, breathe and ride,
So, one day more am I deified—
Who knows but the world may end to-night?