The above individuals being all of them very regular in their hours, used to give him to understand, that he was not to stay after eleven o’clock, with the exception of Bennet Langton, who suffered him to remain till twelve; corrupted in this instance perhaps, by Doctor Johnson. But so precise was Porson in this particular, that although he never attempted to exceed the hour limited, he would never stir before. On one occasion, when from some incidental circumstance, the lady of the house gave a gentle hint, that she wished him to retire a little earlier, he looked at the clock, and observed with some quickness, that it wanted a quarter of an hour of eleven.
In the former period of his early residence in the metropolis, the absence of sleep hardly seemed to annoy him. The first evening which he spent with Horne Tooke, he never thought of retiring till the harbinger of day gave warning to depart. Horne Tooke, on another occasion, contrived to find out the opportunity of requesting his company, when he knew that he had been sitting up the whole of the night before. This, however, made no difference; Porson sate up the second night also till the hour of sun-rise.
What shall we call it—waywardness, inconsiderateness, or ungraciousness? but it is a well known fact, that he spent the day of his marriage with a very learned friend, now a Judge, without either communicating the circumstance of his change of condition, or without attempting to stir till the hour prescribed by the family, obliged him to depart.
The following anecdote he would often relate himself, with the greatest good humour. It is sufficiently notorious, that our friend was not remarkably attentive to the decoration of his person; indeed, he was at times disagreeably negligent. On one occasion, he went to visit the above-mentioned learned friend, where a gentleman, who did not know Porson, was waiting in anxious and impatient expectation of the barber. On Porson’s entering the library where the gentleman was sitting, he started up, and hastily said to Porson, “Are you the barber?” “No, Sir,” replied Porson, “but I am a cunning shaver, much at your service.”
When there was considerable fermentation in the literary world on the subject of the supposed Shakspeare Manuscripts, and many of the most distinguished individuals had visited Mr. Ireland’s house to inspect them, Porson, accompanied by a friend, went also. Many persons had been so imposed upon as to be induced to subscribe their names to a form, previously drawn up, avowing their belief in the authenticity of the papers exhibited. Porson was called upon to do so likewise. “No,” replied the Professor, “I am always very reluctant in subscribing my name, and more particularly to articles of faith.”
The story of his pertinacity in twice transcribing the perplexed and intricate manuscript of the Lexicon of Photius, has been well detailed in the Athenæum, and is perfectly true.
An intimate friend of the Professor had a favourite old dog, whose death he exceedingly regretted, and asked Porson to give him an inscription, for the place in the garden where he was buried. After a time, Porson brought him the following, which was afterwards neatly cut in the antique manner, without stops, on a white marble stone, and remained for many years where it was first deposited.
ΤΗΝΤΡΙΒΟΝΟϹΠΑΡΑΓΕΙϹΗΝΠΩϹΤΟΔΕϹΗΜΑΝΟΗϹΕΙS
ΜΗΔΕΟΜΑΙΓΕΛΑϹΗϹΕΙΚΥΝΟϹΕϹΤΙΤΑΦΟϹ