It remains to record a few anecdotes of him, some of which, at least,
do him the highest honour. During the whole period of his residence in
Norfolk with his sister, which altogether amounted to eleven weeks, he
never drank more than two glasses of wine after dinner, and never touched
a single drop of spirits.—He was most frequently satisfied with one glass
of wine. He talked familiarly with the family, joined them in their
walks, and principally amused himself with a Greek manuscript belonging
to Dr. Clark, which that traveller had brought home with him from Greece
or Syria.
He was, from his childhood, a very bad sleeper; and it is to be feared,
for it is no unusual case, that he may have been led to occasional
indulgences with regard to wine, with the view of procuring sleep. But
he was also of a very social disposition, and the universal desire of his
company, might eventually cause this to be imposed upon. One thing, it is
believed, may positively be insisted upon, that he was never guilty of
any intemperance in solitude; and his behaviour when under his sister’s
roof, shows that he could easily accommodate himself to the disposition
and manners of the people among whom he was thrown.
The anecdote next about to be related, will perhaps excite surprize in
many, but its authenticity cannot be disputed.
Porson, when in Norfolk with his sister, went regularly to church, nor
was he ever prevented from so doing, except when under the influence of
one of the violent paroxysms of asthma, to which he was subject.—These
were occasionally so formidable, that apprehensions were often
entertained, that he would expire in the presence of his friends. On his
first visit to Norfolk, in 1804, he accompanied his brother-in-law to
the adjoining village church of Horstead. Porson found that preparations
were made to administer the sacrament.—When the usual service of prayers
and sermon was ended, and they were about to leave the church, Porson
stopped suddenly, and asked Mr. Hawes, if in his opinion there would
be any impropriety in his receiving the sacrament. Mr. Hawes instantly
replied, “certainly not.” Upon this, they both turned back, and received
the communion together.
This was an extraordinary fact; and on the part of Porson suggests
a singular question. Perhaps he might feel some hesitation from the
circumstance of his being a total stranger to the clergyman who
officiated; or perhaps it might have reference to the consciousness
of his avowed non-conformity to the articles. The matter must remain
undecided.
Singular as it may seem, it is nevertheless true, that Porson did not
hold ⸺ in so high a degree of estimation as might have been expected
from the exalted station, which this venerable personage has invariably
enjoyed in the kingdom of letters. It would be invidious, as it is quite
unnecessary, to be circumstantial; but the fact was so.
On one occasion, when this personage was enjoying his afternoon’s pipe,
he turned triumphantly to the Greek Professor, and remarked, “Porson,
with all your learning, I do not think you well versed in metaphysics.”
“I presume you mean your metaphysics,” was the reply.
At another time, when something which this gentleman had written and
published much interested the public attention, and occasioned many
squibs, paragraphs, and controversial letters in the newspapers, Porson
wrote the following epigram:
“Perturbed spirits spare your ink,
And beat your stupid brains no longer,
Then to oblivion soon would sink,
Your persecuted ⸺monger.”
On the other hand, it is to be observed, that this eminent man, for so he
was, invariably spoke of Porson in terms of the highest admiration and
regard.
Whatever might be the case with respect to the person above alluded
to, Porson was never at any pains to conceal his extreme contempt
for Wakefield. There was at one time a seeming sort of friendly
communication; but whilst Wakefield aimed at being thought on a level
with Porson in point of attainments, this latter must unavoidably
have felt the consciousness of his own great superiority.—Indeed, the
difference between them was immense. Without disparagement to Wakefield,
his warmest advocates must acknowledge, that although he formed his
opinions hastily, he never failed to vindicate them with peremptory
decision. In consequence of this eagerness and haste, his criticisms were
frequently erroneous, and his conclusions false; neither, if detected
in error, would his pride allow him either to confess, or retract his
fault. The writer of this article once pointed out to him a very great
error in his translation of the New Testament; he acknowledged it at
the time, but the second edition appeared, and the same error was
repeated: he might possibly have forgotten it. Porson, on the contrary,
never declared or formed his critical opinions (for of such we are now
speaking) hastily.—He patiently examined, seriously deliberated, and was
generally correct in his decisions; nevertheless, he quietly listened to
the arguments of opponents, and was neither irritable nor pertinacious.
How erroneous an estimate Wakefield had formed of Porson, is sufficiently
apparent from the Posthumous Letters between him and Mr. Fox.
W. appears to tell that eminent Statesman, with a sort of ill-natured
exultation, that nine hundred errors had been detected in the edition
of Heynes’ Virgil, _corrected_, as he is pleased to call it, by Porson.
The fact is not so. The errors were certainly very numerous; but the
office of press corrector was far beneath the dignity of Porson, and what
mistakes there are, are principally confined to the notes, which a single
glance from a critical reader, will in a moment detect and amend. The
errors of the text, which is of more material importance, did not exceed
twenty in all the four volumes.
Again, at p. 99, of the work above quoted, Mr. Wakefield is pleased thus
to express himself: after assigning two reasons for not having more
frequent intercourse with Porson, he gives as a third:
“The uninteresting insipidity of his society, as it is impossible to
engage his mind on any topic of mutual enquiry, to procure his opinion on
any author, or on any passage of an author, or to elicit any conversation
of any kind, to compensate for the time and attendance of his company.
And as for Homer, Virgil, and Horace, I never could hear of the least
critical effort on them in his life.
“He is in general devoid of all human affections, but such as he has, are
of a misanthropic quality; nor do I think that any man exists, for whom
his propensities rise to the lowest pitch of affection and esteem. He
much resembles Proteus in Lycophron,
“ῳ γενως απεχθεται
Και δακρυ.”
The whole of the paragraph, and every particle of the affirmation which
it contains, is as foolish as it is false. Porson’s conversation insipid!
The appeal may safely be made to many characters now living, to Dr. Parr,
Dr. Charles, Burney, Judge Dampier, the Provost of Eton, Sir James
Mackintosh, Mr. Sharp, Mr. Perry, and to many, many others, whether his
conversation among his intimate acquaintance, did not invariably and
irresistibly demonstrate intellect, information, and knowledge. That he
was not very communicative with Mr. Wakefield on subjects of criticism
and abstract erudition, may readily be accounted for.—He despised
Wakefield’s attainments of this kind, in the first instance; and in the
next, had reason to apprehend that improper use might be made of what he
might utter. Mr. Wakefield could not pretend to much of “human affection”
in the declaration of his controversial opinions, but cut and slashed,
and threw his dirt about, without any compunctious feeling.
It may be asserted, without fear of contradiction, that if any friend
or acquaintance consulted the Greek Professor, on any difficult passage
of any author, he readily communicated his aid, and would, if required,
discuss such subjects in conversation.
That our friend was not “devoid of all human affections,” examples have
already been adduced; that he was “misanthropic,” is an assertion equally
absurd. He was, perhaps, too social; and it was this love of society,
which frequently betrayed him into inadvertencies. As to the Greek
quotation with which this curious passage ends, all that can be said is,
it does not apply to Porson.
Mr. Wakefield proceeds to observe, “I will be content to forfeit the
esteem and affection of all mankind, whenever the least particle of
envy or malignity is found to mingle itself with my opinions.” Let the
reader contrast this declaration with the letter, given in a preceding
part of this narrative, and printed from his own hand-writing. Let him
also compare this expression of Wakefield’s with the diatribe which he
addressed to Porson, on his publication of the Hecuba.
A few more anecdotes, from personal knowledge, shall close this part of
our narrative. Porson once accompanied the Sexagenarian in a walk to
Highgate. On their return, they were overtaken by a most violent rain,
and both of them were thoroughly drenched to the skin. As soon as they
arrived at home, warm and dry things were prepared for both; but Porson
obstinately refused to change his clothes. He drank three glasses of
brandy, but sate in his wet things all the evening. The exhalation, of
course, was not the most agreeable; but he did not apparently suffer any
subsequent inconvenience.
There was a lady, who was allied to some of the best families in the
kingdom, exceedingly agreeable, and very accomplished, who took great
pleasure in the conversation and society of Porson. He, on his part,
was very partial to her; and she it was who was the occasion of his
composing those excellent Charades, which have found their way into many
of the public prints, but of which an accurate copy has no where hitherto
appeared. They were principally composed in his walks from his chambers,
to the house of the author of this narrative, and will be found in the
Appendix.
Και ομως ετολμησαμεν ημείς, τα ουτως εχοντα, προς αλληλα
ξυναγκγειν και ξυναρμοσαι.