Last summer, while journeying on my vacation, I renewed the acquaintance of a young man of academic education, who, as I soon noticed, was conversant with some of my works. In our conversation we drifted--I no longer remember how--to the social position of the race to which we both belonged. He, being ambitious, bemoaned the fact that his generation, as he expressed it, was destined to grow crippled, that it was prevented from developing its talents and from gratifying its desires. He concluded his passionately felt speech with the familiar verse from Virgil: _Exoriare_ ... in which the unhappy _Dido_ leaves her vengeance upon _Æneas_ to posterity. Instead of “concluded,” I should have said “wished to conclude,” for he could not bring the quotation to an end, and attempted to conceal the open gap in his memory by transposing the words:-- “_Exoriar(e) ex nostris ossibus ultor!_” He finally became piqued and said: “Please don’t make such a mocking face, as if you were gloating over my embarrassment, but help me. There is something missing in this verse. How does it read in its complete form?” “With pleasure,” I answered, and cited it correctly:-- “_Exoriar(e) aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor!_” “It is too stupid to forget such a word,” he said. “By the way, I understand you claim that forgetting is not without its reasons; I should be very curious to find out how I came to forget this indefinite pronoun ‘_aliquis_.’” I gladly accepted the challenge, as I hoped to get an addition to my collection, and said, “We can easily do this, but I must ask you to tell me frankly and without any criticism everything that occurs to your mind after you focus your attention, without any particular intention, on the forgotten word.”[2] “Very well, the ridiculous idea comes to me to divide the word in the following way: _a_ and _liquis_.” “What does that mean?” “I don’t know.” “What else does that recall to you?” “The thought goes on to _reliques_--_liquidation_--_liquidity_--_fluid_.” “Does that mean anything to you now?” “No, not by a long shot.” “Just go ahead.” “I now think,” he said, laughing sarcastically, “of Simon of Trent, whose relics I saw two years ago in a church in Trent. I think of the old accusation which has been brought against the Jews again, and of the work of _Kleinpaul_, who sees in these supposed sacrifices reincarnations or revivals, so to speak, of the Saviour.” “This stream of thoughts has some connection with the theme which we discussed before the Latin word escaped you.” “You are right. I now think of an article in an Italian journal which I have recently read. I believe it was entitled: ‘What St. Augustine said Concerning Women.’ What can you do with this?” I waited. “Now I think of something which surely has no connection with the theme.” “Oh, please abstain from all criticism, and----”