Camœnarum decus
Exemplar unum in literis
Quas aut Athenis docta coluit Græcia
Aut Roma per Latium colit.
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.