It was a remarkable trait in his conversation, that though he indulged in
many references to the old authors, and allusions to classic customs, he
never deviated into the innumerable quotations with which his memory was
stored. No words, in spite of all the quaintness and antiquity of his
dialect, purely Latin or Greek, ever escaped his lips, except in our
engagements at capping verses, or when he was allured into accepting a
challenge of learning from some of its pretenders; then, indeed, he could
pour forth such a torrent of authorities as effectually silenced his
opponent; but these contests were rarely entered into, and these triumphs
moderately indulged. Yet he loved the use of quotations in others, and I
knew the greatest pleasure I could give him was in the frequent use of
them. Perhaps he thought it would seem like an empty parade of learning
in one who so confessedly possessed it, to deal in the strange words of
another tongue, and consequently rejected them, while, with an innocent
inconsistency, characteristic of the man, it never occurred to him that
there was any thing, either in the quaintness of his dialect or the
occupations of his leisure, which might subject him to the same
imputation of pedantry.

And yet, at times, when he warmed in his subject, there was a tone in his
language as well as sentiment, which might not be improperly termed
eloquent; and the real modesty and quiet enthusiasm of his nature, took
away from the impression he made, the feeling of pomposity and
affectation with which otherwise he might have inspired you.

"You have a calm and quiet habitation here," said I; "the very rooks seem
to have something lulling in that venerable caw which it always does me
such good to hear."