Contrast the spirit of Horace in the third Ode of the third book: "Hac arte Pollux hac vagus Hercules Enisus arces attigit igneas; Quos inter Augustus recumbens Purpureo bibit ore nectar," with the fierce irony of Lucan: "Mortalis nulli Sunt curata deo; cladis tamen huius habemus Vindictam, quantam terris dare numina fas est.

'Ille to mecum locus et beatae Postulant arces ibi tu " "Don't, sir, don't. Horace again! It is too much." Fairthorn was choking; but as if the idea presented to him was really too monstrous for belief, he clutched at Darrell with so uncertain and vehement a hand that he almost caught him by the throat, and sobbed out, "You must be joking."

Aignan's church, with the almost effaced lineaments on the tombstones of those, now forgotten, who were doubtless famous churchmen in their time, and where St. Bernard wept a whole day, fearing that God had withdrawn from him the power of converting souls. This faint trace of the past wealth of churches remains, but where are the sanctuaries of Ste. Geneviève des Ardents, St. Pierre des Arces, St.

"`Hac arte Pollux et vagus Hercules, Enisus arces attigit igneas, attigit igneas, Quos inter Augustus recumbens " "Oh, what does come next?" and he stopped with an expression of pain on his face, pressing his hands tight over his brow. "Don't go on with the repetition, Johnny, dear," said the poor mother. "I'm sure you know it enough now."

And then the poor boy fancied himself sitting under the gas-lamp in the passage as he had so often done, and trying to master one of his repetition lessons, repeating the lines fast to himself as he used to do "`Hac arte Pollux et vagus Hercules, Enisus enisus arces enisus arces attigit igneas, Quos inter Augustus "How does it go on?