About the time of his wife’s death, in 1797, Porson published an edition of the Hecuba of Euripides; which he intended to form the first portion of a complete edition of that poet, and which, with very modest pretensions, was at once acknowledged to be a piece of first-rate criticism by the scholars not only of England but of all Europe. However, in 1800, Gottfried Hermann of Leipzig, who has since become very eminent as a verbal critic, published an edition of the same play, as a professed attack on Porson’s; and there was something in the tone, as well as in the matter of his strictures, which more than counterbalanced the compliment at the commencement of the preface. When, therefore, Porson republished the ‘Hecuba,’ in 1802, he added to the preface a long Supplement, in which Hermann was treated rather superciliously; indeed it appears from a letter which Porson wrote to Professor Dalzel, of Edinburgh, on the third of September, 1803, that he entertained a most sincere contempt for his German censor. The Supplement, however, obtained the applause of the learned in all countries, and, in its kind, it has rarely been surpassed in learning and ingenuity. Porson subsequently published the ‘Orestes,’ ‘Phœnissæ,’ and ‘Medea,’ and the four plays, collected into one volume, have gone through numerous editions. When the London Institution was established, in 1805, Porson was appointed Librarian, with a salary of 200_l._ per annum. The situation however gave him no opportunity of useful exertion. He selected indeed an excellent classical library, and was tolerably diligent in his attendance; but he acquired in this monotonous employment a habit of selfish intemperance, which impaired his faculties and ruined his health. From the beginning of 1808 he was afflicted with asthma; and neglecting the usual modes of treating this disease, he endeavoured to cure it by abstinence. Under this regimen he grew weaker and weaker, and on Monday, September 19, 1808, he was attacked with apoplexy in the street. Being unknown, he was carried to a neighbouring workhouse; but on the following day he was discovered and taken home by his friends, whose attention had been called to an advertisement describing his person, and some scraps of Greek writing and algebra, which were found in his pockets. He recovered so far as to receive a visit from his friend Dr. Adam Clarke, at the Institution; but the hand of death was upon him, and he never regained the full use of his faculties. He died on the night of the following Sunday, just as the clock struck twelve. His body was conveyed to Cambridge, and buried, with the highest academical honours, in Trinity College Chapel, near the statue of Newton, where a monument, with a bust by Chantrey, is erected to his memory.