Chapter I (2)

And shall not this night and its long dismal gloom,
Like the night of the tempest, again pass away?
Yes! the dust of the earth in bright beauty shall bloom,
And rise to the morning of heavenly day!

D.--1796.

EXTRACT FROM AN UNFINISHED POEM ON MOUNT'S BAY.

Mild blows the Zephyr o'er the Ocean dark,
The Zephyr wafting the grey twilight clouds
Across the waves, to drink the solar rays
And blush with purple.
By the orient gleam
Whitening the foam of the blue wave that breaks
Around his granite feet, but dimly seen,
Majestic Michael rises. He whose brow
Is crown'd with castles, and whose rocky sides
Are clad with dusky ivy: he whose base,
Beat by the storm of ages, stands unmoved
Amidst the wreck of things, the change of time.
That base encircled by the azure waves,
Was once with verdure clad: the tow'ring oaks
There waved their branches green,--the sacred oaks
Whose awful shades among, the Druids stray'd
To cut the hallow'd miseltoe, and hold
High converse with their Gods.
On yon rough crag,
Where the wild Tamarisk whistles to the sea blast,
The Druid's harp was heard, swept by the breeze
To softest music, or to grander tones
Awaken'd by the awful master's hand.
Those tones shall sound no more! the rushing waves,
Raised from the vast Atlantic, have o'erwhelm'd
The sacred groves. And deep the Druids lie
In the dark mist-clad sea of former time.
Ages had pass'd away, the stony altar
Was white with moss, when on its rugged base
Dire Superstition raised the gothic fane,
And monks and priests existed.
On the sea
The sunbeams tremble; and the purple light
Illumes the dark Bolerium,[10] seat of storms.
High are his granite rocks. His frowning brow
Hangs o'er the smiling Ocean. In his caves
Th' Atlantic breezes murmur. In his caves,
Where sleep the haggard Spirits of the storm,
Wild dreary are the _schistine_[11] rocks around
Encircled by the wave, where to the breeze
The haggard Cormorant shrieks. And far beyond
Are seen the cloud-like Islands, grey in mists.[12]

Thy awful height, Bolerium, is not loved
By busy Man, and no one wanders there
Save he who follows Nature,--he who seeks
Amidst thy crags and storm-beat rocks to find
The marks of changes teaching the great laws
That raised the globe from chaos; or he whose soul
Is warm with fire poetic,--he who feels
When Nature smiles in beauty, or sublime
Rises in majesty,--he who can stand
Unawed upon thy summit, clad in tempests,
And view with raptured mind the roaring deep
Rise o'er thy foam-clad base, while the black cloud
Bursts with the fire of Heaven--
He whose heart
Is warm with love and mercy,--he whose eye
Drops the bright tear when anxious Fancy paints
Upon his mind the image of the Maid,
The blue-eyed Maid who died beneath thy surge.
Where yon dark cliff[13] o'ershadows the blue main,
THEORA died amidst the stormy waves,
And on its feet the sea-dews wash'd her corpse,
And the wild breath of storms shook her black locks.
Young was THEORA; bluer was her eye
Than the bright azure of the moonlight night;
Fair was her cheek as is the ocean cloud
Red with the morning ray.
Amidst the groves,
And greens, and nodding rocks that overhang
The grey Killarney, pass'd her morning days
Bright with the beams of joy.
To solitude,
To Nature, and to God, she gave her youth;
Hence were her passions tuned to harmony.
Her azure eye oft glisten'd with the tear
Of sensibility, and her soft cheek
Glow'd with the blush of rapture. Hence, she loved
To wander 'midst the green-wood, silver'd o'er
By the bright moonbeam. Hence, she loved the rocks
Crown'd with the nodding ivy, and the lake
Fair with the purple morning, and the sea
Expansive mingling with the arched sky.
Kindled by Genius, in her bosom glow'd
The sacred fire of Freedom. Hence, she scorn'd
The narrow laws of custom that control
Her feeble sex. Great in her energies,
She roam'd the fields of Nature, scann'd the laws
That move the ruling atoms, changing still,
Still rising into life. Her eagle eye,
Piercing the blue immensity of space,
Held converse with the lucid sons of Heaven,
The day-stars of creation, or pursued
The dusky planets rolling round the Sun,
And drinking in his radiance light and life.
Such was the Maiden! Such was she who fled
Her native shores.
Dark in the midnight cloud,
When the wild blast upon its pinions bore
The dying shrieks of Erin's injured sons,[14]
She 'scaped the murderer's arm.
The British bark
Bore her across the ocean. From the West
The whirlwind rose, the fire-fraught clouds of Heaven
Were mingled with the wave. The shatter'd bark
Sunk at thy feet, Bolerium, and the white surge
Closed on green Erin's daughter.

[10] The Land's End in Cornwall.

[11] The granite of Cornwall is generally found incumbent on
primitive _schistus_. This is the case in many of the cliffs at
the Land's End. The upper stratum is composed of granite, the
lower with the surrounding rocks of _schistus_. D.

[12] The Islands of Scilly.

[13] A rock near the Land's End, called the 'Irish Lady.'

[14] The Irish Lady was shipwrecked at the Land's End, about the
time of the massacre of the Irish Protestants by the Catholics,
in the reign of Charles the First.

That the Genius who presided over the destinies of Davy should have torn him from these flowery regions of Fancy, and condemned him to labour in the dusky caverns of the mineral kingdom, has furnished a fruitful theme of lamentation to the band of Poets, and to those who prefer the amusements to the profits of life, and who cherish the hallucinations of the imagination rather than the truths of science. If, however, we regret that Davy's Muse, like Proserpine, should have been thus violently seized, and carried off to the lower regions, as she was weaving her native wild flowers into a garland, we may console ourselves in knowing that, like the daughter of Ceres, she also obtained the privilege of occasionally revisiting her native bowers; for it will appear in the course of these memoirs, that in the intervals of more abstruse studies, Davy not unfrequently amused himself with poetical composition. But, in sober truth, is it possible that any reasonable being can regret the course in which he has been impelled? A great poetic Genius has said, "If Davy had not been the first Chemist, he would have been the first Poet of his age." Upon this question I do not feel myself a competent judge: but where is the modern Esau who would exchange his Bakerian Lecture for a poem, though it should equal in design and execution the PARADISE LOST?

As far as can be ascertained, one of the first original experiments in Chemistry performed by him at Penzance, was for the purpose of discovering the quality of the air contained in the bladders of sea-weed, in order to obtain results in support of a favourite theory of light; and to ascertain whether, as land vegetables are the renovators of the atmosphere of land-animals, sea-vegetables might not be the preservers of the equilibrium of the atmosphere of the ocean. From these experiments he concluded, that the different orders of the marine _Cryptogamia_ were capable of decomposing water, when assisted by the attraction of light for oxygen.

His instruments, however, were of the rudest description, manufactured by himself out of the motley materials which chance threw in his way; the pots and pans of the kitchen, and even the more sacred vessels and professional instruments of the surgery, were without the least hesitation or remorse put in requisition.

While upon this subject, I will relate an anecdote which was communicated to me by my late venerable friend Mr. Thomas Giddy.[15] A French vessel having been wrecked off the Land's End, the surgeon escaped, and found his way to Penzance; accident brought him acquainted with Humphry Davy, who showed him many civilities, and in return received, as a present from the surgeon, a case of instruments which had been saved from the ship. The contents were eagerly turned out and examined by the young chemist, not, however, with any professional view as to their utility, but in order to ascertain how far they might be convertible to experimental purposes. The old-fashioned and clumsy glyster apparatus was viewed with exultation, and seized in triumph!--What reverses may not be suddenly effected by a simple accident! so says the moralist. Reader, behold an illustration:--in the brief space of an hour, did this long-neglected and unobtrusive machine, emerging from its obscurity and insignificance, figure away in all the pomp and glory of a complicated piece of pneumatic apparatus: nor did its fortunes end here; it was destined for greater things; and we shall hereafter learn that it actually performed the duties of an air-pump, in an original experiment on the nature and sources of heat. The most humble means may certainly accomplish the highest ends: the filament of a spider's web has been used to measure the motions of the stars; and a kite, made with two cross sticks and a silk handkerchief, enabled the chemical Prometheus to rob the thunder-cloud of its lightnings; but that a worn-out instrument, such as has been just described, should have furnished him who was born to revolutionize the science of the age, with the only means of enquiry at that time within his reach, affords, it must be admitted, a very whimsical illustration of our maxim.

[15] I cannot allude to this name, without paying a tribute of
respect to the memory of one who, for more than half a century,
practised the profession of a surgeon in Penzance with as much
credit to himself, as advantage to his neighbourhood.

Nor can we pass over these circumstances, without observing how materially they must have influenced the subsequent success of Davy as an experimentalist. Had he, at the commencement of his career, been furnished with all those appliances which he enjoyed at a later period, it is more than probable that he might never have acquired that wonderful tact of manipulation, that ability of suggesting expedients, and of contriving apparatus so as to meet and surmount the difficulties which must ever beset the philosopher in the unbeaten tracks of Science. In this art, he certainly stands unrivalled, and, like his prototype Scheele,[16] or that pioneer of pneumatic experimentalists, Dr. Priestley,[17] he was unquestionably indebted for his address to the circumstances above related. There never, perhaps, was a more striking exemplification of the adage, that "necessity is the parent of invention."

[16] Bergman, Professor of Upsal, was informed of a young man who
resided in the house of an apothecary, and who was reproached
for neglecting the duties of his profession, while he devoted
the whole of his time to Chemistry. Bergman's curiosity was
excited; he paid him a visit, and was astonished at the knowledge
he displayed, and at the profound researches in which he was
engaged, notwithstanding the poverty under which he laboured, and
the restraint under which his situation placed him. He encouraged
his ardour, and made him his friend. This young man was the
celebrated _Scheele_.

[17] No man ever entered upon an undertaking with less apparent
means of success, than did Priestley upon that of Chemistry.
He neither possessed apparatus, nor the money to procure it.
These circumstances, which at first sight seem so adverse, were
in reality those which contributed to his ultimate success.
The branch of Chemistry he selected was new; an apparatus had
to be invented before any important step could be taken; and
as simplicity is essential in every research, he was likely to
contrive the best whose circumstances obliged him to attend to
economy.

It would however appear that, imperfect as must have been his apparatus, and limited as were his resources, his ambition very early led him to the investigation of the most abstruse and recondite phenomena. He was not more than seventeen when he formed a strong opinion adverse to the general belief in the existence of _caloric_, or the materiality of heat.

As I shall hereafter have occasion to draw a parallel between the intellectual qualities of Davy, and those of the celebrated Dr. Black, the father of modern chemistry, it may not be irrelevant to state, in this place, that the subject of heat was also amongst the first that attracted the attention of this latter philosopher; indeed, he tells us himself, that he "can scarcely remember the time, when he had not some idea of the disagreement of facts with the commonly received doctrines upon this subject." The tendency of his mind, however, was in direct opposition to that of Davy's, for he insisted upon the materiality of heat, and was the first to conceive the bold idea of its being capable, like any other substance, of entering into chemical combination with various bodies, and of thus losing its characteristic qualities.

Black's theory could not be more opposed to that of Davy than was his conduct upon the occasion; for, although an experiment suggested itself to his mind, by which, as he thought, he could at once establish the truth of his favourite doctrine, he delayed performing it, because there did not happen to be an ice-house in the town in which he lived. With Davy, on the other hand, the conception and execution of an experiment were nearly simultaneous: no sooner, therefore, had he formed his opinion, than his eager spirit urged him to put it to the test.

Having procured a piece of clock-work, so contrived as to be set to work in an exhausted receiver, he added two horizontal plates of brass; the upper one, carrying a small metallic cup to be filled with ice, revolved in contact with the lower one. The whole machine, resting on a plate of ice, was covered by a glass receiver, and the air was exhausted by the very syringe, ingeniously modified for the purpose, with which the reader has already been made acquainted: for, as yet, he had no air-pump, and, what is still more worthy of notice, had never even seen one! The machine was now set in motion, when the ice in the small cup was soon observed to melt; whence he inferred that this effect could alone proceed from vibratory motion, since the whole apparatus was insulated from all accession of material heat, by the frozen mass below, and by the vacuum around it.

The experiment was afterwards repeated with greater care, and by means of a more refined apparatus: it was modified in different ways; and the results were ultimately published in an Essay, to be hereafter noticed, "On Heat, Light, and the Combinations of Light," which appeared in a provincial collection of tracts, edited by Dr. Beddoes, at Bristol.

Mr. Davies Gilbert, in describing the above experiment in his late address to the Royal Society, very justly observed that it does not at all decide the important matter in dispute, with respect to an ethereal or transcendental fluid; but that few young men remote from the society of persons conversant with science, will present themselves, who are capable of devising any thing so ingenious.

Dr. Henry, in a paper published in the "Memoirs of the Manchester Society," on entering into a review of this and similar experiments, very truly states, that the mode of insulation is not only imperfect, but that, according to Count Rumford, caloric will even pass through a Torricellian vacuum.

The most prominent circumstance in the history of this period of Davy's life, is his introduction to Mr. Davies Giddy, now Mr. Gilbert, the late distinguished and popular President of the Royal Society. The manner in which this happened is as curious as its result was important; and it furnishes another very striking illustration of the power of simple accident in directing our destinies. Mr. Gilbert's attention was attracted to the future philosopher, as he was carelessly swinging over the hatch, or half gate, of Mr. Borlase's house, by the humorous contortions into which he threw his features. Davy, it may be remarked, when a boy, possessed a countenance which, even in its natural state, was very far from comely, while his round shoulders, inharmonious voice, and insignificant manner, were calculated to produce any thing rather than a favourable impression: in riper years, he was what might be called "good-looking," although, as a wit of the day observed, his aspect was certainly of the "Bucolic" character. The change which his person underwent, after his promotion to the Royal Institution, was so rapid, that, in the days of Herodotus, it would have been attributed to nothing less than the miraculous interposition of the Priestesses of Helen. A person, who happened to be walking with Mr. Gilbert upon the occasion alluded to, observed that the extraordinary-looking boy in question was young Davy, the Carver's son, who, he added, was said to be fond of making chemical experiments. "Chemical experiments!" exclaimed Mr. Gilbert, with much surprise: "if that be the case, I must have some conversation with him." Mr. Gilbert, as we all know, possesses a strong perception of character, and he therefore soon discovered ample evidence of the boy's singular genius. After several interviews, which confirmed him in the opinion he had formed, he offered young Humphry the use of his library, or any other assistance that he might require for the pursuit of his studies; and at the same time gave him an invitation to his house at Tredrea, of which he frequently availed himself.

During one of his visits, Mr. Gilbert accompanied him to Hayle Copper-House, and introduced him to Dr. Edwards, a gentleman afterwards known to the medical profession as the chemical lecturer in the school of St. Bartholomew's Hospital; at the time, however, alluded to, he resided at Copper-House with his father, and possessed a well-appointed laboratory. The tumultuous delight which Davy expressed on seeing, for the first time, a quantity of chemical apparatus, hitherto only known to him through the medium of engravings, is described by Mr. Gilbert as surpassing all description. The air-pump more especially fixed his attention, and he worked its piston, exhausted the receiver, and opened its valves, with the simplicity and joy of a child engaged in the examination of a new and favourite toy.

It is a curious circumstance, that the phenomena resulting from the contact of iron and copper, in the investigation of which Davy was destined to perform so prominent a part, were very early noticed by Mr. Edwards in this place; who found that the flood-gates in the Port of Hayle decayed with a rapidity wholly inexplicable, but upon the supposition of some _chemical_ action between the metals which had not yet been clearly explained. How little did Mr. Edwards imagine that the fact, which had so powerfully excited his curiosity, would become to the youth before him, a future source of rich and honourable discovery!

During the following year, an event occurred which contributed, in no small degree, to the advancement of Davy's prospects. Mr. Gregory Watt, who had long been in a declining state of health, was recommended by his physicians to reside for some time in the West of England, and he accordingly proceeded at once to Penzance, and took up his abode, as a lodger and boarder, in the house of Mrs. Davy. It may be supposed that two kindred spirits would not be long in contracting an acquaintance with each other; in fact, an intimacy of the warmest nature did ultimately grow up between them, and continue to the very moment of Mr. Watt's premature dissolution: the origin and progress of their friendship, however, are too curious to be passed over without some notice.

Mr. Gregory Watt possessed a warm and affectionate heart; but there was a solemn, aristocratic coldness in his manner, which repulsed every approach to familiarity. Davy, it has been already stated, did not at that time possess any of those qualifications, in person or manner, which are calculated to produce favourable prepossessions. It may, therefore, be readily imagined how Mr. Watt must have felt, on finding the son of his landlady familiarly addressing him on subjects of metaphysics and poetry. By one of those strange perversions which have so frequently led great men to conceal the peculiarity of their talents, and to rest their claims to notice and respect upon qualifications which they possessed only in an inferior degree, Davy sought to ingratiate himself with Mr. Watt by metaphysical discussions; but, instead of the admiration, he excited the disgust of his hearer. It was by mere accident that an allusion was first made to chemistry, when Davy flippantly observed, that he would undertake to demolish the French theory in half an hour. He had touched the chord: the interest of Mr. Watt was excited,--he conversed with Davy upon his chemical pursuits,--he was at once astonished and delighted at his sagacity,--the barrier of ice was removed, and they became attached friends.

Mr. Wedgwood, and his brother Thomas, also spent a winter at Penzance; and I have reason to believe that their friendship was of substantial benefit to Davy.

Before I attend the progress of our philosopher to the next scene of life, or proceed to detail the circumstances connected with his departure from Penzance, I must relate the following anecdote.--Until the formation of the Geological Society of London occasioned the introduction of more extended and sounder views into the science, geologists were divided into two great rival sects,--into Neptunists and Plutonists: the one affirming that the globe was exclusively indebted for its present form and arrangement to the agency of water; the other, admitting to a certain extent the operation of water, but maintaining the utter impossibility of explaining the consolidation of the strata without the intervention of fire. Every geologist felt bound to side with the one or the other of these contending parties, for neutrality was held as disgraceful as though the law of Solon had been in active operation. I shall not easily forget the din and fury of this elemental war, as it raged in Edinburgh when I was a student in that University; even the mineral dealers, who, like the artisans of a neutral city, sold arms and ammunition to both sides, still defended their own opinions with party fury. It was amusing to observe the triumph and dismay which, by turns, animated and depressed each side, as the discovery of a new fact, or a fresh specimen, appeared to give a preponderance to the doctrine of fire or water. The fact of so large a portion of the strata being found in the state of a carbonate was advanced by the Neptunists as an unanswerable argument against igneous agency: the dismay therefore which this sect received upon the discovery of Sir James Hall, that under the combined forces of heat and compression, carbonate of lime might be fused, was only equalled by the excessive joy excited in the contending party. We may form some notion of the high importance attached to this discovery, when we learn that its author applied to the Government for a flag of truce to convey illustrative specimens to the Continental philosophers.

It so happened, that the Professors of Oxford and Cambridge ranged themselves under opposite banners: Dr. Beddoes was a violent and uncompromising Plutonist, while Professor Hailstone was as decided a Neptunist. The rocks of Cornwall, and their granitic veins, had been appealed to, as affording evidence upon the subject; and the two Professors, who, although adverse in opinion, were united in friendship, determined to proceed together to the field of dispute, each hoping that he might thus convince the other of his error, and cure him of his heresy. The belligerents arrived at Penzance, and in company with their mutual friend, Mr. Davies Gilbert, examined the coast, and procured specimens with pretty much the same spirit of selection as a schoolboy consults his Gradus, not for an epithet of any meaning, but for one which best suits his measure; and having made drawings, disputed obvious appearances, rendered that which was clear to the senses, confused to the understanding, and what was already confused, ten times more obscure, they returned, the opinion of each, as might easily have been anticipated, having been strengthened by the ordeal: the one protesting that the very aspect of the shivered slate was sufficient to prove that the globe must have been roasted to rags; the other, with equal plausibility, declaring that there was not a tittle of evidence to show that the watery solvent had ever even simmered. Such, in fact, must ever be the case, when philosophers examine the same subject under such different impressions, and in such opposite points of view; like the two knights who could not agree respecting the colour of the shield, only because each saw a different side of it.

Rocks, it is said, have flinty hearts, and certain it is that, upon this occasion, Cornwall did not afford that assistance against the Neptunists, which the Oxford Professor had sought with so much zeal and confidence; but if deferred revenge had, as we are told is generally the case, been put out at compound interest, and Beddoes had exacted its dues with more than judaical rigour, it must be allowed that Cornwall, by placing Davy at his disposal, would have fully cancelled all demands.

Plutonian Beddoes, erst, in spiteful ire,
To see a _Hailstone_ mock his central fire,
A mighty spirit raised, by whose device
We now burn HAILSTONES, and set fire to Ice.

Before quitting this subject, it is but justice to advert to the progress which Geology has made since the turbulence of this contest has subsided; it has grown strong in facts, and is daily increasing its stores. It has been wisely said by one of the ancient Poets, that in vehement disputes, not only the persons engaged, but every one who is at all interested, must suffer; not only the combatants, but the spectators of the combat,--for it is difficult to apprehend truth while it is the subject of angry contest.

To return to the narrative.--Upon Beddoes establishing the "Pneumatic Institution" at Bristol, he required an assistant who might superintend the necessary experiments in the laboratory; and Mr. Gilbert proposed Davy as a person fully competent to fill the situation. The young candidate had already produced a very favourable impression upon Dr. Beddoes, by his experiments upon Heat and Light, which he had some time before transmitted to him through the hands of his friend Mr. Gregory Watt. This fact may be collected from a note appended by Dr. Beddoes to Davy's paper subsequently published in the first volume of the West Country Contributions, in which the Doctor says, "My first knowledge of Mr. Davy arose from a letter written in April 1798, containing an account of his researches on Heat and Light." The rest is told in the letters which passed on this occasion between Dr. Beddoes and Mr. Gilbert, and from which I shall make such extracts as may be necessary to complete the history of a transaction of much interest and importance.

In a letter dated July 4, 1798, Dr. Beddoes says, "I am glad that Mr. Davy has impressed you as he has me. I have long wished to write to you about him, for I think I can open a more fruitful field of investigation than any body else. Is it not also his most direct road to fortune? Should he not bring out a favourable result, he may still exhibit talents for investigation, and entitle himself to public confidence more effectually than by any other mode. He must be maintained, but the fund will not furnish a salary from which a man can lay up any thing. He must also devote his time for two or three years to the investigation. I wish you would converse with him upon the subject. No doubt he has received my two last letters. I am sorry I cannot at this moment specify a yearly sum, nor can I say with certainty whether all the subscribers will accede to my plan; most of them will, I doubt not. I have written to the principal ones, and will lose no time in sounding them all."

In a second letter of the 18th of July, we find the following observations. "I have received a letter from Mr. Davy since I wrote to you. He has oftener than once mentioned a _genteel maintenance_, as a preliminary to his being employed to superintend the Pneumatic Hospital. I fear the funds will not allow an ample salary; he must, however, be maintained. I can attach no idea to the epithet _genteel_, but perhaps all difficulties would vanish in conversation; at least, I think your conversing with Mr. Davy will be a more likely way of smoothing difficulties, than our correspondence. It appears to me, that this appointment will bear to be considered as a part of Mr. Davy's medical education, and that it will be a great saving of expense to him. It may also be the foundation of a lucrative reputation; and certainly nothing on my part shall be wanting to secure to him the credit he may deserve. He does not undertake to discover cures for this or that disease; he may acquire just applause by bringing out clear, though negative results. During my journeys into the country, I have picked up a variety of important and curious facts from different practitioners. This has suggested to me the idea of collecting and publishing such facts as this part of the country will, from time to time, afford. If I could procure chemical experiments, that bore any relation to organised nature, I would insert them. If Mr. Davy does not dislike this method of publishing his experiments, I would gladly place them at the head of my first volume, but I wish not that he should make any sacrifice of judgment or inclination."

It remains only to be stated, that Mr. Gilbert kindly undertook the negotiation, and completed it to the satisfaction of all the principal parties. Mrs. Davy yielded to her son's wishes, and Mr. Borlase very generously surrendered his indenture, with an endorsement to the following effect,--that he freely gave up the indenture, on account of the singularly promising talents which Mr. Davy had displayed.

His old and valued friend Mr. Tonkin, however, not only expressed his disapprobation of this scheme, but was so vexed and irritated at having his favourite plan of fixing Davy in his native town as a Surgeon, thus thwarted, that he actually altered his will, and revoked the legacy of his house which he had previously bequeathed him. Mr. Tonkin died on the 24th of December 1801; so that, although he lived long enough to witness Davy's appointment to the Royal Institution, he could never have anticipated the elevation to which his genius and talents ultimately raised him.

On the 2nd of October in the year 1798, Davy quitted Penzance, before he had attained his twentieth year. Mr. Gilbert well remembers meeting him upon his journey to Bristol, and breakfasting with him at Okehampton, on the 4th of October. He was in the highest spirits, and in that frame of mind in which a man of ardent imagination identifies every successful occurrence with his own fortunes; his exhilaration, therefore, was not a little heightened by the arrival of the mail-coach from London, covered with laurels and ribbons, and bringing the news, so cheering to every English heart, of NELSON'S glorious victory of the NILE.