Quel monstre est-ce, que cette goutte de serrience, de quoy 

 nous sommes produits, porte en soy les impressions, non de la 

 forme corporelle seulement, mais des pensements de nos peres. — 

 Montaigne. 



From the hand of Him that loves her ere she sees the day, 

 the soul comes like a habe. Springing from her blessed Maker, 

 she quickly turns to that which yields her joy. — Dante: Purga- 

 torio, xvi. 84. 



