CHAPTER XXXIII.
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.