In later years when I heard her give Shakespearian
readings, I regarded the occasion as an epoch in my life. In this
connection I venture to express my surprise that the classical English
quotations so pleasing to the ear in former days are now so seldom
heard. It seems unfortunate that the epigrammatic sentences, for
example, of grand old Dr. Samuel Johnson have become almost obsolete. In
former years Byron appealed to the sentiment, while the more ambitious
quoted Greek maxims. The sayings of the old authors were recalled,
mingled with the current topics of the day. It would seem, however, that
the present generation is decidedly more interested in quotations from
the stock exchange. Edmund Burke said that "the age of chivalry is
gone, that of sophists, economists, and calculators has succeeded."

Upon her return to England Fanny Kemble published her journal kept while
in the United States, which was by no means pleasing in every respect to
her American readers. It is said that in one of her literary effusions
she dwelt upon a custom, which she claimed was prevalent in America, of
parents naming their children after classical heroes, and gave as an
example a child in New York who bore the name of Alfonzo Alonzo
Agamemnon Dionysius Bogardus. The sister of this youth, she stated, was
named Clementina Seraphina Imogen. I think this statement must have been
evolved from her own brain, as it would be difficult to conceive of
parents who would consent to make their children notorious in such a
ridiculous manner. Fanny Kemble married Pierce Butler, a lawyer of
ability and cousin of the U.S. Senator from South Carolina of the same
name, and they were divorced in 1849, when the Hon. George M. Dallas was
counsel for Fanny Kemble and Rufus Choate appeared for her husband.

Fanny Elssler, a queen of grace and beauty on the stage, delighted
immense audiences at the Park Theater. She came to this country under
the auspices of Chevalier Henry Wikoff, a roving but accomplished
soldier of fortune, who pitched his camp in both continents. Upon her
arrival in New York the "divine Fanny," as she was invariably called,
was borne to her destination in a carriage from which the horses had
been detached by her enthusiastic _adorateurs_, led by August Belmont.
She was, indeed,

A being so fair that the same lips and eyes
She bore on earth might serve in Paradise.

At this distant day it seems almost impossible to describe her. She