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She gave him such potent reasons, and showed him so plainly his refusal would infuriate his uncle, and make her miserable, that he had no choice. He packed up his dress suit, and drove to Raby Hall, with a heavy heart and bitter reluctance. O caeca mens hominum. It was the great anniversary. On that day Sir Richard Raby had lost for the Stuarts all the head he possessed.
Then Destiny, that mocks the desires of men in general, and fathers in particular, heard the appeal, and presented M. Chapelain and Jeanne Corbiere his wife with the future author of 'La Pucelle. Oh futile hopes of men, O pectora caeca!
'Rum country, England, said Logan, indignantly. 'You have no property in corpses. Merton was silenced. Neither could foresee how momentous, to each of them, the question of property in corpses was to prove. O pectora caeca! Miss Blowser is now Mrs. Potter. She married her aged wooer, and Rangoon still wins prizes at the Crystal Palace.
Grown turkeys and other fowls are not so susceptible to the disease. It is characterized by an inflammation of the liver and intestines, especially the caeca. The specific cause is a protozoan microorganism, Amoeba meleagridis. Adult fowls and turkeys may act as carriers of the germ, and the young turkeys become infected at an early period.
I am betimes sensible of the little breezes that begin to sing and whistle within, forerunners of the storm: "Ceu flamina prima Cum deprensa fremunt sylvis et caeca volutant Murmura, venturos nautis prodentia ventos."
Vizard burst out, "'O miserae hominum mentes, O pectora caeca! There I sat, in the stalls, a happy man comparatively, because my heart, though full of scars, was at peace, and my reason, after periodical abdications, had resumed its throne, for good; so I, weak mortal, fancied.
Show me his dwelling presently." The interruption pleased not the Magister, who exclaimed, "O CAECA MENS MORTALIUM! though, by the way, I used that quotation before. But I would the classics could afford me any sentiment of power to stop those who are so willing to rush upon their own destruction.
Then one catches sight of this line by the sagacious Horace: 'Quid aeternis minorem consiliis animum fatigas? Looking at another piece of timber, one slowly spells out the words: 'O miseras hominum mentes! O pectora caeca! And so one follows the track of Montaigne's mind from rafter to rafter.
"Sir," replied Tressilian, "I should in that case have all that I want at present a horse fit to carry me forward; out of hearing of your learning." The last words he muttered to himself. "O CAECA MENS MORTALIUM!" said the learned man "well was it sung by Junius Juvenalis, 'NUMINIBUS VOTA EXAUDITA MALIGNIS!"
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