CHAPTER XXXV.
In the year 1774, when Porson was about fourteen years of age, and had been under the care of Mr. H. for two years, he had already discovered a most extraordinary quickness of parts.
His acquirements, indeed, even at that early period, and his remarkable powers of abstraction and of memory, the force of his intellect in whatever direction it was excited, induced in the breast of Mr. Norris a desire of extending the scale of his education.—It was determined to send him to Eton.
A circumstance relating to this event is communicated by his family, so much out of the ordinary mode of proceeding in similar cases, that a little suspicion of its accuracy may, without offence, be indulged. It is stated by his relations, that previously to his being admitted at Eton, Mr. Norris sent Porson to Cambridge, to be examined as to his proficiency in the classics, by the Greek Professor.—This was in the midsummer of 1774. It is added, that in his examination, he displayed so much talent, and such extensive acquirements, that he was sent to Eton in the following summer, viz. in 1775.
Now, if this really were the fact, it is more than probable that such an incident never took place before, and can only be explained by the possible circumstance, that the Greek Professor, who was at that period Dr. ⸺, was an intimate friend of Mr. Norris, and from a natural curiosity on his part, was entreated to perform this office. But there exists a still stronger reason for supposing there must be some mistake in this matter. Many of his schoolfellows at Eton still survive, and they all affirm, without any variation, that when Porson first went to Eton, he was not particularly distinguished above the other boys, either for learning, acquirements, or studious habits. Further than this, it is said by one, who is well qualified to judge, that is, by no less a personage than the present amiable and learned ⸺, that as a boy, he discovered but an indifferent taste, and in his compositions was very fond of mixing Greek with his Latin, as thus, “ingemuere ποθοι,” &c. &c.
It may perhaps be the fact, that there is a little confusion and mistake with regard to dates. Porson was necessarily and officially examined by the Greek Professor, when he sate, as it is termed, for the university scholarship; and he might, after his admission at college, and before his actual residence, go down to Cambridge from Eton, or, not improbably in some interval of the holidays, from his friends in Norfolk, for this particular purpose.
It is very certain, that his contemporaries at Eton, with little, very little exception, do not remember much about him. The following particulars concerning him at this period, may, however, be depended upon, being either communicated by himself, or from authority which cannot be doubted.
When at Eton, he wrote two dramatic pieces, and acted in them himself. All, however, that is remembered of either is, that one was more elaborate than the other, and indicated more of plot, ingenuity, and contrivance.—The title of it was, “Out of the Frying-pan into the Fire.”
The other was a shorter piece, of less importance, and was occasioned by some private circumstance, or anecdote, among the boys themselves.
It is an extraordinary, but well attested fact concerning him, that the first book he ever read with attention was Chambers’s Dictionary, which he fairly and regularly perused from beginning to end. He was always fond of algebra, and was a very skilful algebraist.—He taught himself the principles from the above dictionary.
After Porson left Eton to reside at Cambridge, a very long time elapsed without there being any intercourse between him and his family. This circumstance has brought upon him, particularly in Norfolk, the severest censure. Yet that this apparent, and indeed culpable neglect, did not entirely arise from insensibility to the ties of nature and of blood, is very certain.—Porson was undoubtedly not deficient in filial reverence. His sister had not seen her brother for twenty-two years, when, in 1804, she wrote to inform him, that her father was exceedingly ill, and considered as being in great danger. Porson immediately went down to Norfolk to see him, and at that time continued for seven weeks with his sister. The old gentleman recovered; but when seized with his dying illness, two years afterwards, Porson was again written to by his sister, and again replied to her letter by his presence. This was his last visit into Norfolk, when he passed a month at Coltishall. Now, it must be acknowledged, that these facts demonstrate any thing rather than filial ingratitude, and tell with the candid mind, more than a hundred idle stories to his disadvantage. The writer of this narrative has also a strong impression, that he used to send clothes and occasional presents to his brothers; though he certainly did not write to any of the family, which, of course, they resented. He had, indeed, a very great repugnance to writing letters, and when he did so, his epistles were concise, stiff, and formal.—A specimen or two will hereafter be given. He certainly did not want sensibility; though his coldness, and reserve of demeanour, might reasonably excite the suspicion that he was unfeeling.
He spent the evening with him, whose notes now record the fact, when the last year of his being permitted to retain the benefits of his fellowship, expired.—It could not easily be obliterated from the memory.—His indignation at not being appointed to a lay fellowship in his college, then vacant; his resentment on perusing the letter which coldly apologised for giving it to another, with a recommendation to him, which he felt as the bitterest insult, to take orders; the anguish he expressed at the gloom of his prospects, without a sixpence in the world; his grief; and, finally, his tears; excited an impression of sympathy, which could never be forgotten.
Another proof that he was not insensible of kindness, deserves also to be recorded. He had borrowed, on some occasion or other, of our Sexagenarian a sum of money. Of course, he was never asked for it, nor in the remotest degree reminded of it. After an interval of more than four years, he came one day, in the familiar manner to which he was accustomed, and said, “I am come to dine, and have brought you the money I owe you—I suppose you thought I had forgotten it.”
On his first arrival at college, he of course did not possess a very extensive library, and he used to go to the present Provost of Eton’s rooms, to read Suidas and Plutarch’s Morals; and even at that early period proposed some very curious critical emendations.
A very singular circumstance occurred about this period, which there may be some who are able to explain—it is not attempted here. Some person or other had taken a copy of Eustathius from Eton college library, and had conveyed it to Cambridge. It was here lent to Porson, who made excellent use of it. The following paragraph is verbatim from our manuscript. “The book was afterwards returned to Eton college, where it now remains, it is to be hoped, as Bonaparte said of the Belvidere Apollo, “pour jamais.” The expression of “it is to be hoped,” is made use of, because the very extraordinary fact not long since occurred of some most rare, curious, and valuable books finding their way from the venerable precincts of a Cathedral library, to the shelves of a private collection.—May the fate of this Eustathius be different! At present, at least, whoever pleases may see it in Eton college library, enriched by a number of notes by Porson in the margin.”
Porson had a very lofty mind, and was tenacious of his proper dignity. Where he was familiar and intimate, he was exceedingly condescending and good-natured. He was kind to children, and would often play with them, but he was at no pains to conceal his partiality, where there were several in one family. In one which he often visited, there was a little girl of whom he was exceedingly fond; he often brought her trifling presents, wrote in her books, and distinguished her on every occasion, but she had a brother to whom, for no assignable reason, he never spoke, nor would in any respect, notice. He was also fond of female society, and though too frequently negligent of his person, was of the most obliging manners and behaviour, and would read a play, or recite, or do any thing that was required.
He was very fond of crab fish, and on one occasion, where he was very intimate, asked to have one for supper; his friend jocularly said, that he should have the finest in St. James’s Market, if he would go thither, buy, and bring it home himself. He disappeared in an instant, and marched unconcerned through some of the most gay streets of London with the crab triumphantly in his hand.
Much has been said of his irregularities.—That odious theme is left to others. With all his errors and eccentricities, he who wrote this, loved him much, bowed with reverence to his talents, and admiration to his learning, and acknowledged with gratitude the delight and benefit he received from his society and conversation. Yet Porson by no means excelled in conversation; he neither wrote nor spoke with facility. His elocution was perplexed and embarrassed, except where he was exceedingly intimate; but there was strong indication of intellect in his countenance, and whatever he said was manifestly founded on judgment, sense, and knowledge. Composition was no less difficult to him. Upon one occasion, he undertook to write a dozen lines upon a subject which he had much turned in his mind, and with which he was exceedingly familiar. But the number of erasures and interlineations was so great as to render it hardly legible; yet, when completed, it was, and is, a memorial of his sagacity, acuteness, and erudition.
Cujus uti memoro rei simulacrum et imago
Ante oculos semper nobis versatur et instat.