“ῳ γενως απεχθεται Και δακρυ.” The whole of the paragraph, and every particle of the affirmation which it contains, is as foolish as it is false. Porson’s conversation insipid! The appeal may safely be made to many characters now living, to Dr. Parr, Dr. Charles, Burney, Judge Dampier, the Provost of Eton, Sir James Mackintosh, Mr. Sharp, Mr. Perry, and to many, many others, whether his conversation among his intimate acquaintance, did not invariably and irresistibly demonstrate intellect, information, and knowledge. That he was not very communicative with Mr. Wakefield on subjects of criticism and abstract erudition, may readily be accounted for.—He despised Wakefield’s attainments of this kind, in the first instance; and in the next, had reason to apprehend that improper use might be made of what he might utter. Mr. Wakefield could not pretend to much of “human affection” in the declaration of his controversial opinions, but cut and slashed, and threw his dirt about, without any compunctious feeling. It may be asserted, without fear of contradiction, that if any friend or acquaintance consulted the Greek Professor, on any difficult passage of any author, he readily communicated his aid, and would, if required, discuss such subjects in conversation. That our friend was not “devoid of all human affections,” examples have already been adduced; that he was “misanthropic,” is an assertion equally absurd. He was, perhaps, too social; and it was this love of society, which frequently betrayed him into inadvertencies. As to the Greek quotation with which this curious passage ends, all that can be said is, it does not apply to Porson. Mr. Wakefield proceeds to observe, “I will be content to forfeit the esteem and affection of all mankind, whenever the least particle of envy or malignity is found to mingle itself with my opinions.” Let the reader contrast this declaration with the letter, given in a preceding part of this narrative, and printed from his own hand-writing. Let him also compare this expression of Wakefield’s with the diatribe which he addressed to Porson, on his publication of the Hecuba. A few more anecdotes, from personal knowledge, shall close this part of our narrative. Porson once accompanied the Sexagenarian in a walk to Highgate. On their return, they were overtaken by a most violent rain, and both of them were thoroughly drenched to the skin. As soon as they arrived at home, warm and dry things were prepared for both; but Porson obstinately refused to change his clothes. He drank three glasses of brandy, but sate in his wet things all the evening. The exhalation, of course, was not the most agreeable; but he did not apparently suffer any subsequent inconvenience.