"As you now stand, Miss Florence, looking so earnestly toward the east, you seem to me a perfect realization of Willis's Jephtha's Daughter: "'She stood before her father's gorgeous tent, To listen for his coming. Her loose hair Was resting on her shoulder, like a cloud Floating around a statue, and the wind Just swaying her light robe, revealed a shape Praxiteles might worship: Her countenance was radiant with love: She looked to die for it--a being whose Whole existence was the pouring out Of rich and deep affections.'"
As he looked upon her these lines were uttered half unconsciously; and then turning to Mary, he gently asked if he might speak what was passing in his mind.
"Certainly, Frank--continue your quotation; the lines never seemed so beautiful before;" said Mr. Stewart, glancing at Florence as he spoke.
"Doubtless not, Stewart, because never so applied. Miss Hamilton, your cousin looks more as did the Jewish maiden at close of evening: "'Her face was pale, but very beautiful; her lip Had a more delicate outline, and the tint Was deeper. But her countenance was like the Majesty of Angels.'"
"Dr. Bryant, is it possible you so far forget yourself and previously expressed opinions, as to make quotations? I thought you a sworn foe to the practise."
"On ordinary occasions, I am: and you may rest assured it is the last time I commit such an absurdity by a camp fire. I think you once asked me my objection--will you hear it now? When I was quite young, I one day read an anecdote of the celebrated Greek professor, Dr. Porson, which gave me a strong bias against quotations, particularly locating them, which necessarily follows. Porson was once traveling in a stage-coach, when a young Oxonian, fresh from college, was amusing some ladies with quite a variety of small talk, among other things a quotation from Sophocles, as he said. A Greek quotation in a stage-coach roused Porson, who half slumbered in a quiet corner. 'Young gentleman,' said he, 'I think you indulged us, just now, with a quotation from Sophocles; I don't happen to remember it there.'--'Oh, sir,' rejoined the tyro, 'the quotation is word for word, and in Sophocles too.' The professor handed him a small edition of Sophocles, and requested him to point out the passage. After rummaging about for some time, he replied: 'Upon second thought the passage is in Euripides.' 'Then,' said Porson, handing him a similar edition of Euripides, 'perhaps you will be so kind as to find it for me in this little book.' Our young gentleman returned unsuccessfully to the search, with the very pleasant cogitation of 'Curse me, if ever I quote Greek again in a stage-coach,' The tittering of the ladies increased his confusion, and desperate at last, he exclaimed--'Bless me, how dull I am; I remember now perfectly that the passage is in Æschylus. The incorrigible professor dived again into his apparently bottomless pocket, and produced an edition of Æschylus; but the astounded Oxonian exclaimed, 'Stop the coach! Halloa! coachman, let me out instantly; there is a fellow inside here that has got the whole Bodleian library in his pocket. Let me out, I say--it must be Porson or the devil!' Now previous to reading this anecdote, I must confess to quite a penchant for quotations, but I assure you a full year elapsed ere I ventured on another; and for a long time the ghost of our gentleman appeared, specter-like, before me, whenever I attempted one."