After skirmishing with various success, and after multiplied rencontres,
in which some knowledge of the service was obtained, and some dexterity
acquired, a determination was made on the part of him whose pen has in
our MS. traced records of the dead and the living, to make one great and
bold attempt. The result was to be fame and profit. A proposal was made
to an eminent bookseller to publish a very extensive work, which appeared
to be wanted; the execution of it, however, required what is properly
called learning, knowledge of languages, history, geography, and indeed
every scholar-like accomplishment.
Strange as it may appear, the proposal, though made by a young, obscure,
and almost inexperienced adventurer in the fields of literature, was
accepted. The work was successfully completed. A very large impression
was printed and sold, which was in time succeeded by a second. “Sooth
to say,” observes our MS. “the remembrance of the undertaking, from
its magnitude and difficulty, from the little help that was received
in its progress, from the very limited access to literary supplies and
reinforcements, excites at this distant period an irresistible sort of
tremour.” Notwithstanding many defects, which were unavoidable, many more
which were very justly imputable to the author’s deficiency of talent, or
of learning, or perhaps of both, the work was accompanied by reputation,
and still remains a staple commodity in the market.
Among other advantages which resulted from the undertaking, was the
very valuable one of an extensive introduction to the most eminent and
considerable literary characters. Ah! that of these so few should survive
to peruse this narrative. One connection was formed, which endured to
the satisfaction of both, as long as life’s frail thread permitted,
and this was with Porson. It commenced in this manner:—A crabbed sort
of composition in a dead language had made its appearance, which from
the singularity of the circumstance, the celebrity of the writer, and
the feverish susceptibility of the times, excited universal curiosity.
It seemed to defy all attempt to render it into the Vernacular
language. The attempt, however, was made, and with such effect, that
Porson expressed a desire, a thing not very usual with him, to know the
“Cunning Shaver,” who had been guilty of this audacious enterprize. In
consequence, a common friend brought them together, and an intimacy
succeeded, which suffered no interruption till the melancholy period of
the Professor’s premature death. They had before met in very early life,
and their earliest friends were nearly connected. It may be said, that
perhaps nobody knew Porson better, very few so well. Much has been said
of this extraordinary scholar, but by no means enough; a great deal more
is due to him. In what follows, he who wrote this narrative, may boldly
defy contradiction.
It is by no means intended to enter into controversy with the only
two accounts of Porson which have hitherto been given with any thing
like authority, or materially to contradict their assertions. The
first appeared in the Morning Chronicle, the second in the periodical
publication called the Athenæum. This latter has usually been assigned
to ⸺, a most learned and able contemporary, and who was, beyond all
possibility of doubt, accurate as far as circumstances enabled him to
be so. The other account was communicated to the editor of the Morning
Chronicle by Porson’s sister, who attended his funeral.
This lady’s name is H⸺, and her residence is at C⸺, in N⸺. She is
probably some four or five years younger than her brother, to whom she
bears a strong personal resemblance, more particularly in the lower
features of her face, her tone of voice, and peculiarity of smile.
After her return from the funeral, she communicated to the editor, the
substance of what appeared in that paper on the day following. Its
accuracy will hardly be called in question; yet all that she had to
tell, must necessarily, as far as her actual knowledge went, be confined
to Porson’s boyish days, for after he went to Eton, he had but little
intercourse with his family. Neither was she circumstantially correct, as
she subsequently acknowledged, on being desired to call to mind whether
her brother did not imbibe his very first rudiments from a person of the
name of W⸺, who kept the village school at B⸺, in N⸺, where Porson’s
father and mother lived. She remembered the fact, but observed, that W.
was a plain ignorant shopkeeper, to whom her brother was sent when a
child about six years of age, but that he did not continue long with him,
it being soon discovered that the pupil could read as fluently as his
master. This may or may not have been the truth. That Mr. W⸺ was a plain
shopkeeper, and that he kept the village school, cannot be denied; but
that he was so ignorant, as the lady’s remark seemed to intimate, may
fairly be questioned. He was well known to the writer of this narrative,
who had frequently conversed with him on the subject of Porson. He spoke
in the highest terms of his early proofs of capacity, and was not a
little proud of having been accessory to the formation of the base of
that monument, which afterwards lifted its proud eminence so high.
Mr. W⸺ had a respectable appointment under the Excise Office, another
proof, if one were wanting, that he could not be so exceedingly ignorant.
He was also greatly respected by ⸺, the squire of the parish, who was
subsequently the patron of Porson, as well as by ⸺, the clergyman, who
was Porson’s earliest friend. Thus much for honest Mr. W⸺. _Paullo majora
canamus._
Nam et in ratione conviviorum quamvis a plerisque cibis singuli
temperemus, totam tamen cœnam laudare omnes solemus: nec ea quæ
stomachus noster recusat, adimunt gratiam illis, quibus capitur.