* *

Many years before Georges Guynemer was a student at Stanislas, a
professor, who was also destined to become famous, taught rhetoric
there. His name was Frederic Ozanam. He too had been a precocious child,
prematurely sure of his vocation for literature. When only fifteen he
had composed in Latin verse an epitaph in honor of Gaston de Foix, dead
at Ravenna. This epitaph, if two words are changed--_Hispanae_ into
_hostilis_, and _Gaston_ into _Georges_--describes perfectly the short
and admirable career of Guynemer. Even the palms are included:

Fortunate heros! moriendo in saecula vives.
Eia, agite, o socii, manibus profundite flores,
Lilia per tumulum, violamque rosamque recentem
Spargite; victricis armis superaddite lauros,
Et tumulo tales mucrone inscribite voces:
Hic jacet hostilis gentis timor et decus omne
Gallorum, Georgius, conditus ante diem:
Credidit hunc Lachesis juvenem dum cerneret annos,
Sed palmas numerans credidit esse senem.[12]

It is a paraphrase of the reply of the gods to the young Pallas, in
Virgil.

[Footnote 12:
Fortunate hero! thou diest, but thou shalt live forever!
Come, my companions! strew flowers
And lilies over the tomb! violets and young roses
Scatter; heap up laurels upon his arms,
And on the stone write with the point of your sword:
Here lieth one who was the terror of the enemy, and the glory
Of the French, George, taken before his time.
Lachesis from his face thought him a boy,
But counting his victories she thought him full of years.]

This young Frederic Ozanam died in the full vigor of manhood before
having attained his fortieth year, of a malady which had already
foretold his death. At that time he seemed to have achieved perfect
happiness; it was the supreme moment when everything succeeds, when the
difficult years are almost forgotten, and the road mounts easily upward.
He had in his wife a perfect companion, and his daughter was a lovable
young girl. His reputation was growing; he was soon to be received by
the Academy, and fortune and fame were already achieved. And then death
called him. Truly the hour was badly chosen--but when is it chosen at
the will of mortals? Ozanam tried to win pity from death. In his private
journal he notes death's approach, concerning which he was never
deceived; and he asks Heaven for a respite. To propitiate it, he offers
a part of his life, the most brilliant part; h