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Commentators are of opinion, that the Achilleis was left incomplete by the death of the author; but this is extremely improbable, from various circumstances, and appears to be founded only upon the word Hactenus, in the conclusion of the poem: Hactenus annorum, comites, elementa meorum Et memini, et meminisse juvat: scit caetera mater.

T. “Greets Appius.” True; but it sounds stiff in English, doesn’t it? What is the real English of it? C. “My dear Appius?”… T. That will do; go on. C. Dubitanti mihi, quod scit Atticus noster, While I was hesitating, as our friend Atticus knows.… T. That is right.

Defects at all events those which we call by that name are often the inborn, necessary, inevitable conditions of good qualities. Scit genius, natale comes qul temperat astrum. Who ever saw a medal without its reverse? a talent that had not some shadow with its brilliancy, some smoke with its flame? Such a blemish can be only the inseparable consequence of such beauty.

In cellae quoque culmine, quod aperiri valet et claudi, astant in pertica quatuor grifandi, vel ostiones. Odericus: duodecim Girfalcones, vt si forte Imperator in aere aquilam, vulturum, ardeam, vel collectorem cerneret, cito dimitteret istorum duas aut plures ad aucupandum. Nota, per Dromedarios, et cursores, et veloces, qui de hospitio ad hospitium permutantur, scit de remotis noua.

what of all that, if he be a fool? even pleasure and good fortune are not relished without vigour and understanding: "Haec perinde sunt, ut ilius animus; qui ea possidet Qui uti scit, ei bona; illi, qui non uritur recte, mala." Whatever the benefits of fortune are, they yet require a palate to relish them. The possessor must be healthy, if he thinks to make good use of his realised wealth.

"Proximus ille deo est qui scit ratione tacere!" said the vicar, putting on his hat and moving towards the door. "And what does that mean, brother?" asked Miss Pimpernell.

He listened and heard outside at the bottom of the wall, a "scit! scit!" so softly whispered that you might almost think it the cry of some bird. Nevertheless, the good man's heart fluttered. "What is that?" he cried. After a few seconds' silence a soft voice replied: "Charlotte, Charlotte it is I!"

Scit, scit, scit, scit, scit, scit, Disputez-vous, battez-vous, Scit, scit, scit, scit, scit, scit, Nous allons compter les coups. The music ceased, the men went away, the women returned, a few at a time, and started a conversation among themselves, of which our friends understood nothing. They were slandering some absent person. "They look like the Chinamen of the pansiteria!" whispered Pecson.

M. Ant. de Dominis confuteth him well: Est scandalum et cum peccato, quando quis licet non intendat peccatum alterius, facit autem opus aut ex se malum aut apparenter, ex quo scit, aut scire debet, consequuturum alterius peccatum, aut quodeunque malum: nam etiam dicitur illud voluntarium interpretative. Sect. 9.

"Meus filius magnus asinus." That was a fine acknowledgment from a father. "Nescit pensum nunquam scit." Then he discontinued to speak of the young student, and pantomimically described something, from which I gathered that "meus filius," on this occasion was condemned to starve, until he had learnt his lessons, and was confined to his room. This was no pleasant idea to me.