Chapter XIV (1)

The failure of the Ship protectors a source of great vexation
to Davy.--His Letters to Mr. Poole.--He becomes unwell.--He
publishes his Discourses before the Royal Society.--Critical
Remarks--and Quotations.--He goes abroad in search of
health.--His Letter to Mr. Poole from Ravenna.--He resigns the
Presidency of the Royal Society.--Mr. Gilbert elected _pro
tempore_.--Davy returns to England, and visits his friend Mr.
Poole.--Salmonia, or Days of Fly-fishing.--An Analysis of the
Work, with various extracts to illustrate its character.

The friends of Sir Humphry Davy saw with extreme regret that the failure of his plan for protecting copper sheathing had produced in his mind a degree of disappointment and chagrin wholly inconsistent with the merits of the question; that while he became insensible to the voice of praise, every nerve was jarred by the slightest note of disapprobation. I apprehend, however, that the change of character which many ascribed to the mortification of wounded pride, ought in some measure to be referred to a declining state of bodily power, which had brought with it its usual infirmities of petulance and despondency. The letters I shall here introduce may perhaps be considered as indicating that instinctive desire for quiet and retirement which frequently marks a declining state of health, and they will be followed by others of a less equivocal character.

TO THOMAS POOLE, ESQ.

Grosvenor Street, Nov. 24, 1824.

MY DEAR POOLE,

It is very long since I have heard from you, Mr. A----, whom
you introduced to me, has sometimes given me news of you, and I
have always heard of your health and well-being with pleasure.

My immediate motive for writing to you now is somewhat, though
not entirely selfish. You know 1 have always admired your
neighbourhood, and I have lately seen a place advertised there,
called, I think,----, not far from Quantock, and combining,
as far as advertisement can be trusted, scenery, fishing,
shooting, interest for money, &c.

If it is not sold, pray give me a little idea of it; I have
long been looking out for a purchase,--perhaps this may suit
me. After all, it may be sold; if so, no harm is done.

I go on labouring for utility, perhaps more than for glory;
caring something for the judgment of my contemporaries, but
more for that of posterity; and confiding with boldness in the
solid judgment of Time.

I have lately seen some magnificent country in the Scandinavian
peninsula, where Nature, if not a kind, is at least a beautiful
mother.--I wonder there have not been more poets in the North.

I am, my dear Poole,

Very affectionately your old friend,

H. DAVY.

TO THE SAME.

January 5, 1825.

MY DEAR POOLE,

My proposition to come into Somersetshire about the 10th was
founded upon two visits which I had to pay in this county,
Hants; I am now only about sixty miles from you; and had you
been at home, I should have come on to Nether Stowey. The 13th
is the first meeting of the Royal Society after the holidays;
and though I might do my duty by deputy, yet I feel that this
would not be right, and I will not have the honour of the chair
without conscientiously taking the labours which its possession
entails. I regret therefore that I cannot be with you next
week. God bless you.

Believe me always, my dear Poole,

Your affectionate friend,

H. DAVY.

TO THE SAME.

Park Street, Feb. 11, 1825.

MY DEAR POOLE,

* * * * *

I had a letter a few days ago from C----, who writes in good
spirits, and who, being within a few miles of London, might, as
far as his friends are concerned, be at John a Grot's house.
He writes with all his ancient power. I had hoped that, as his
mind became subdued, and his imagination less vivid, he might
have been able to apply himself to persevere, and to give to
the world some of those trains of thought, so original, so
impressive, and at which we have so often wondered.

I am writing this letter at a meeting of the Trustees of the
British Museum, which will account for its want of correction.
Lest I should be more desultory, I will conclude by subscribing
myself, my dear Poole, your old and affectionate friend,

H. DAVY.

TO THE SAME.

Feb. 28, 1825.

MY DEAR POOLE,

I am very much obliged to you for your two letters, which I
received in proper time. I have deferred writing, in the hopes
that I might be able to pay you a visit and see the property,
but I now find this will be impossible. I have a cold, which
has taken a stronger and more inflammable character than usual,
which obliges me to lay myself up; and in this weather it would
be worse than imprudent to travel.

I have seen Mr. Z----, and can perfectly re-echo your
favourable sentiments respecting him. I saw the plan of the
estate, and heard every thing he had to say respecting the
value, real and imaginary, of the lands. He certainly hopes at
this moment for a fancy price, and he is right if he can get it.

* * * * *

I have less fancy for the place, from finding the trout-stream
a brook in summer, where salmon-trout, or salmon, could not
be propagated; for one of my favourite ideas in a country
residence is varied and multiplied experiments on the increase
and propagation of fish.

What I should really like would be a place with a couple of
hundred acres of productive land, and plenty of moor, a river
running through it, and the sea before it; and not farther from
London than Hampshire--a day's journey. There are such places
along the coast, though perhaps in my lifetime they will not
be disposed of. I should also like to be within a few miles of
you; for it is one of the regrets in the life which I lead,
that devotion to the cause of science separates me very much
from friends that I shall ever venerate and esteem. God bless
you, my dear Poole,

Very affectionately yours,

H. DAVY.

TO THE SAME.

Pixton near Dulverton, Nov. 1, 1826.

MY DEAR POOLE,

I cannot be in your neighbourhood, without doing my best to see
you; and it is my intention to come to Stowey on Sunday. I hope
I shall find you at home, and quite well.

Mr. T----, who is here, gives me a very good account of you,
which I trust I shall be personally able to verify.

If you are at leisure, I will try to shoot a few woodcocks on
Monday on the Quantock hills; on Tuesday I must go east.

I have not been well lately. I cannot take the exercise which
twenty years ago I went lightly and agreeably through. Will you
have the kindness to hire a pony for me, that I may ride to
your hills?

I am sorry I did not know of your journey to Ireland and
Scotland. I was in both those countries at the time you visited
them, and should have been delighted to have met you.

Do not write to me; for, even if you should not be at home,
Stowey is not more than ten or twelve miles out of my way; but
I hope I shall find you.

I am, my dear Poole,

Your old and sincere friend,

H. DAVY.

The complaints, as to the loss of his strength, which are expressed in the preceding letter, were but too well founded. Mr. Poole informs me that, during this visit in 1826, it was affecting to observe the efforts he made to continue his field sports. From being unable to walk without fatigue, he was compelled to have a pony to take him to the field, from which he dismounted only on the certainty of immediate sport.

On his return to London, his indisposition increased: he complained to me of palpitation of the heart, and of an affection in the trachea, which led him to fear that he might be suffering under the disease of which his father died.

The fatigue attendant upon the duties of the anniversary of the Royal Society (November 30th) completely exhausted him; and after his re-election as President, he was reluctantly obliged to retire, and to decline attending the usual dinner upon that occasion.

In January 1827, Sir Humphry Davy published the Discourses which he had delivered before the Royal Society, at six successive anniversary meetings, on the award of the Royal and Copley medals. They were published in compliance with a resolution of a meeting of the Council, held on the 21st of December 1826.

The practice of delivering an annual oration before the Royal Society, on the occasion of presenting the medal upon Sir Godfrey Copley's donation, prevailed during the presidency of Sir John Pringle; it was, however, during a long interval discontinued, and only revived during the latter years of Sir Joseph Banks.

The discourse usually commenced with a short tribute of respect to the memory of those distinguished Fellows who had died since the preceding anniversary. It then proceeded to announce the choice of the Council in its award of the medals, enumerating the objects and merits of the several communications which had been honoured with so distinguished a mark of approbation, and stating the circumstances which had directed the judges in their decision.

Much has been said and written upon the inutility, and even upon the mischievous tendency of this practice; and great stress has been laid upon the vices inseparably connected, as it is asserted, with the style of composition to which it gives origin. It appears to me, however, that it is only against the meretricious execution, not against the temperate use of such discourses, that this charge can be fairly and consistently sustained; and in the chaste and yet powerful addresses of Davy, such an opinion will find its best sanction, and obtain its strongest support.

Does it follow, because praise, when unduly lavished upon the labours of the scientific dead, may create comparisons and preferences injurious to the living, that we are to stifle the noblest aspirations of our nature, and become as cold and silent as the grave that encloses their remains? Does it follow, because an undisciplined ardour may have occasionally exaggerated the merits of our contemporaries, that we are henceforth to withhold from them a just tribute of applause at their discoveries--to forego the advantages which science must derive from a plan so well calculated to awaken the flagging attention, to infuse into stagnant research a renewed spirit of animation, and to encourage the industry of the labourer in the abstract regions of science, with prospects gleaming with sunshine, and luxuriant in the fruitfulness which is to reward him?

Such was the character, such the effect of Davy's discourses. They exhibit a great assemblage of diversified talents, and display the refined views he entertained with respect to the mutual relations which the different sciences maintain with each other; they evince, moreover, a great command of language, and a power to give exact expression to what his mind had conceived.

To these six Discourses is prefixed his Address upon taking the chair of the Royal Society for the first time; the subject of which is "The present state of that Body, and the Progress and Prospects of Science." Upon this occasion, he particularly adverts to the light which the different branches of science may reflect upon each other. "In pure Mathematics--though their nature, as a work of intellectual combination, framed by the highest efforts of human intelligence, renders them incapable of receiving aids from observations of external phenomena, or the invention of new instruments, yet they are, at this moment, abundant in the promise of new applications; and many of the departments of philosophical enquiry which appeared formerly to bear no relation to quantity, weight, figure, or number, as I shall more particularly mention hereafter, are now brought under the dominion of that sublime science, which is, as it were, the animating principle of all the other sciences."

"In the theory of light and vision, the researches of Huygens, Newton, and Wollaston, have been followed by those of Malus; and the phenomena of polarization are constantly tending to new discoveries; and it is extremely probable that those beautiful results will lead to a more profound knowledge than has hitherto been obtained, concerning the intimate constitution of bodies, and establish a near connexion between mechanical and chemical philosophy."

"The subject of heat, so nearly allied to that of light, has lately afforded a rich harvest of discovery; yet it is fertile in unexplored phenomena. The question of the materiality of heat will probably be solved at the same time as that of the undulating hypothesis of light, if, indeed, the human mind should ever be capable of understanding the causes of these mysterious phenomena. The applications of the doctrine of heat to the atomic or corpuscular philosophy of chemistry abound in new views, and probably at no very distant period these views will assume a precise mathematical form."

"In Electricity, the wonderful instrument of Volta has done more for the obscure parts of physics and chemistry, than the microscope ever effected for natural history, or even the telescope for astronomy. After presenting to us the most extraordinary and unexpected results in chemical analysis, it is now throwing a new light upon magnetism.

'Suppeditatque novo confestim lumine lumen.'

"I must congratulate the Society on the rapid progress made in the theory of definite proportions, since it was advanced in a distinct form by the ingenuity of Mr. Dalton. I congratulate the Society on the promise it affords of solving the recondite changes, owing to motions of the particles of matter, by laws depending upon their weight, number, and figure, and which will be probably found as simple in their origin, and as harmonious in their relations, as those which direct the motions of the heavenly bodies, and produce the beauty and order of the celestial systems.

"The crystallizations, or regular forms of inorganic matter, are intimately connected with definite proportions, and depend upon the nature of the combinations of the elementary particles; and both the laws of electrical polarity, and the polarization of light, seem related to these phenomena. As to the origin of the primary arrangement of the crystalline matter of the globe, various hypotheses have been applied, and the question is still agitated, and is perhaps above the present state of our knowledge; but there are two principal facts which present analogies on the subject,--one, that the form of the earth is that which would result, supposing it to have been originally fluid; and the other, that in lavas, masses decidedly of igneous origin, crystalline substances, similar to those belonging to the primary rocks, are found in abundance."

It is the privilege of genius to be in advance of the age, and to see, "as by refraction, the light, as yet below the horizon." It is with such a feeling that I have introduced the foregoing extracts, which I cannot but regard as prophetic of future discoveries.

The first discourse was delivered on the 30th of November 1821, on the occasion of announcing the award of two medals, on Sir Godfrey Copley's donation; one to J. F. W. Herschel, Esq. for his various papers on mathematical and physico-mathematical subjects; and the other, to Captain Edward Sabine, R.A., for his papers containing an account of his various experiments and observations made during a voyage and expedition in the Arctic regions.

As I am desirous that the reader should be made acquainted with the nature and style of the address with which he accompanied the presentation of the medal, I cannot select a happier example, or one in the sentiments of which every person will more readily participate, than the following:--

"MR. HERSCHEL--Receive this medal, Sir, as a mark of our
respect, and of our admiration of those talents which you
have applied with so much zeal and success, and preserve it
as a pledge of future exertions in the cause of Science and
of the Royal Society; and, believe me, you can communicate
your labours to no public body by whom they will be better
received, or through whose records they will be better known to
the philosophical world. You are in the prime of life, in the
beginning of your career, and you have powers and acquirements
capable of illustrating and extending every branch of physical
enquiry; and, in the field of science, how many are the spots
not yet cultivated! Where the laws of sensible become connected
with those of insensible motions, the mechanical with the
chemical phenomena, how little is known! In electricity,
magnetism, in the relations of crystallized forms to the
weight of the elements of bodies, what a number of curious and
important objects of research! and they are objects which you
are peculiarly qualified to pursue and illustrate.

"May you continue to devote yourself to philosophical pursuits,
and to exalt your reputation, already so high--

'Virtutem extendere factis.'

And these pursuits you will find not only glorious, but
dignified, useful, and gratifying in every period of life:
this, indeed, you must know best in the example of your
illustrious father, who, full of years and of honours, must
view your exertions with infinite pleasure; and who, in the
hopes that his own imperishable name will be permanently
connected with yours in the annals of philosophy, must look
forward to a double immortality."

In the discourse of the succeeding year, it was his painful duty to announce the death of the elder Herschel, whom, in his former address, he had eulogized in such eloquent and touching language.

In alluding to the labours and discoveries of Sir William Herschel, he observed, that "they have so much contributed to the progress of modern astronomy, that his name will probably live as long as the inhabitants of this earth are permitted to view the solar system, or to understand the laws of its motions. The world of science--the civilized world, are alike indebted to him who enlarges the boundaries of human knowledge, who increases the scope of intellectual enjoyment, and exhibits the human mind in possession of new and unknown powers, by which it gains, as it were, new dominions in space; acquisitions which are imperishable--not like the boundaries of terrestrial states and kingdoms, or even the great monuments of art, which, however extensive and splendid, must decay--but secured by the grandest forms and objects of nature, and registered amongst her laws."

One more quotation, and I shall conclude with the conviction that the splendid specimens I have adduced must fully justify the opinion already offered as to the taste, power, and eloquence with which, as President of the Royal Society, he discharged the most delicate and arduous of all its duties.

In his address to Mr. (now Dr.) Buckland, on delivering to him the medal for his important memoir on the fossile remains discovered in the cave near Kirkdale, he thus concludes:--"If we look with wonder upon the great remains of human works, such as the columns of Palmyra, broken in the midst of the desert; the temples of Pæstum, beautiful in the decay of twenty centuries; or the mutilated fragments of Greek sculpture in the Acropolis of Athens, or in our own Museum, as proofs of the genius of artists, and power and riches of nations now past away; with how much deeper a feeling of admiration must we consider those grand monuments of nature which mark the revolutions of the globe--continents broken into islands; one land produced, another destroyed; the bottom of the ocean become a fertile soil; whole races of animals extinct, and the bones and exuviæ of one class covered with the remains of another; and upon these graves of past generations--the marble or rocky tombs, as it were, of a former animated world, new generations rising, and order and harmony established, and a system of life and beauty produced, as it were, out of chaos and death, proving the infinite power, wisdom, and goodness of the Great Cause of all being!"

* * * * *

I have noticed the apparent commencement of that general indisposition which had for some time been stealing upon him, undermining his powers, oppressing his spirits, and subduing his best energies; but in the end of 1826, his complaint assumed a more decided and alarming form. Feeling more than usually unwell, while on a visit to his friend Lord Gage, he determined to return to London, and was seized while on his journey, at Mayersfield, with an apoplectic attack. Prompt and copious bleeding, however, on the spot, arrested the symptoms more immediately threatening the extinction of life, and enabled him to reach home; but paralysis, the usual consequence of such seizures, had obviously, though at first but slightly, diminished his muscular powers, and given an awkwardness to his gait.

As soon as the more immediate danger of the attack had passed away, it was thought expedient to recommend, as the best means of his farther recovery, a residence in the southern part of Europe, where he would be removed from all the cares and anxieties that were inseparably connected with his continuance in London; and he accordingly quitted England, with the intention of spending what remained of the winter in Italy.

The following interesting letter to his friend will sufficiently explain the serious character of his malady, and the degree of bodily infirmity which accompanied it.

TO THOMAS POOLE, ESQ.

Ravenna, March 14, 1827.

MY DEAR POOLE,

I should have answered your letter immediately, had it been
possible; but I was, at the time I received it, very ill, in
the crisis of the complaint under which I have long suffered,
and which turned out to be a determination of the blood to the
brain; at last producing the most alarming nervous symptoms,
and threatening the loss of power and of life.

Had I been in England, I should gladly have promoted the
election of your friend at the Athenæum: your certificate of
character would always be enough for me; for, like our angling
evangelical Isaac Walton, I know you choose for your friends
only good men.

I am, thank God, better, but still very weak, and wholly
unfit for any kind of business and study. I have, however,
considerably recovered the use of all the limbs that were
affected; and as my amendment has been slow and gradual, I
hope in time it may be complete: but I am leading the life of
an anchorite, obliged to abstain from flesh, wine, business,
study, experiments, and all things that I love; but this
discipline is salutary, and for the sake of being able to do
something more for science, and, I hope, for humanity, I submit
to it; believing that the Great Source of intellectual being so
wills it for good.

I am here lodged in the Apostolical Palace, by the kindness of
the Vice-Legate of Ravenna, a most admirable and enlightened
prelate, and who has done every thing for me that he could have
done for a brother.

I have chosen this spot of the declining empire of Rome, as one
of solitude and repose, as out of the way of travellers, and
in a good climate; and its monuments and recollections are not
without interest. Here Dante composed his divine works. Here
Byron wrote some of his best and most moral (if such a name can
be applied) poems; and here the Roman power that began among
the mountains with Romulus, and migrated to the sea, bounding
Asia and Europe under Constantine, made its last stand, in the
marshes formed by the Eridanus, under Theodorick, whose tomb is
amongst the wonders of the place.

After a month's travel in the most severe weather I ever
experienced, I arrived here on the 20th of February. The
weather has since been fine. My brother and friend, who is
likewise my physician, accompanied me; but he is so satisfied
with my improvement, as to be able to leave me for Corfu; but
he is within a week's call.

I have no society here, except that of the amiable Vice-Legate,
who is the Governor of the Province; but this is enough for me,
for as yet I can bear but little conversation. I ride in the
pine forest, which is the most magnificent in Europe, and which
I wish you could see. You know the trees by Claude Lorraine's
landscapes: imagine a circle of twenty miles of these great
fan-shaped pines, green sunny lawns, and little knolls of
underwood, with large junipers of the Adriatic in front, and
the Apennines still covered with snow behind. The pine wood
partly covers the spot where the Roman fleet once rode,--such
is the change of time!

It is my intention to stay here till the beginning of April,
and then to go to the Alps, for I must avoid the extremes of
heat and cold.

God bless you, my dear Poole. I am always your old and sincere
friend,

H. DAVY.

Feeling that his recovery was tardy, and that perfect mental repose was more than ever necessary for its advancement, he determined to resign the chair of the Royal Society; and he accordingly announced that intention, by a letter to his friend Mr. Davies Gilbert, Vice-President of the Society.

TO DAVIES GILBERT, ESQ. M.P. V.P.R.S. &c. &c.

Salzburgh, July 1, 1827.

MY DEAR SIR,

Yesterday, on my arrival here, I found your two letters. I am
sorry I did not receive the one you were so good as to address
to me at Ravenna; nor can I account for its miscarriage. I
commissioned a friend there to transmit to me my letters from
that place after my departure, and I received several, even so
late as the middle of May, at Laybach, which had been sent to
Italy, and afterwards to Illyria. I did not write to you again,
because I always entertained hopes of being able to give a
better account of the state of my health. I am sorry to say the
expectations of my physicians of a complete and rapid recovery
have not been realized. I have gained ground, under the most
favourable circumstances, very slowly; and though I have had no
new attack, and have regained, to a certain extent, the use of
my limbs, yet the tendency of the system to accumulate blood
in the head still continues, and I am obliged to counteract
it by a most rigid vegetable diet, and by frequent bleedings
with leeches and blisterings, which of course keep me very low.
From my youth up to last year, I had suffered, more or less,
from a slight hemorrhoidal affection; and the fulness of the
vessels, then only a slight inconvenience, becomes a serious
and dangerous evil in the head, to which it seems to have been
transferred. I am far from despairing of an ultimate recovery,
but it must be a work of time, and the vessels which have been
over distended only very slowly regain their former dimensions
and tone: and for my recovery, not only diet and regimen and
physical discipline, but a freedom from anxiety, and from all
business and all intellectual exertion, is absolutely required.

Under these circumstances, I feel it would be highly imprudent
and perhaps fatal for me, to return, and to attempt to perform
the official duties of President of the Royal Society. And as
I had no other feeling for that high and honourable situation,
except the hope of being useful to society, so I would not keep
it a moment without the security of being able to devote myself
to the labour and attention it demands. I beg therefore you
will be so good as to communicate my resignation to the Council
and to the Society at their first meeting in November, after
the long vacation; stating the circumstances of my severe and
long continued illness, as the cause. At the same time, I beg
you will express to them how truly grateful I feel for the high
honour they have done me in placing me in the chair for so many
successive years. Assure them that I shall always take the same
interest in the progress of the grand objects of the Society,
and throughout the whole of my life endeavour to contribute to
their advancement, and to the prosperity of the body.

Should circumstances prevent me from sending, or you from
receiving any other communication from me before the autumn
(for nothing is more uncertain than the post in Austria, as
they take time to read the letters), I hope this, which I
shall go to Bavaria to send, will reach you safe, and will be
sufficient to settle the affair of resignation.

It was my intention to have said nothing on the subject of my
successor. I will support by all the means in my power the
person that the leading members of the Society shall place in
the chair; but I cannot resist an expression of satisfaction
in the hope you held out, that an illustrious friend of the
Society, illustrious from his talents, his former situation,
and, I may say, his late conduct, is likely to be my successor.

I wish my name to be in the next Council, as I shall certainly
return, _Deo volente_, before the end of the session, and I
may, I think, be of use; and likewise, because I hope it may
be clearly understood that my feelings for the Society are, as
they always were, those of warm attachment and respect. Writing
still makes my head ache, and raises my pulse. I will therefore
conclude, my dear Sir, in returning you my sincere thanks for
the trouble you have had on my account, and assuring you that I
am

Your obliged and grateful friend and servant,

H. DAVY.

Pray acknowledge the receipt of this letter, by addressing me,
"_poste restante_, Laybach, Illyria, Austria;" and let me know
if Mr. Hudson is still Assistant-Secretary, and where Mr. South
is. I send this letter from Frauenstein, Bavaria, July 2, that
it may not be opened, as all my letters were at Salzburgh.
There was one of them must have _amused_ Prince Metternich, on
the state of parties in England, from a Member of the Upper
House.

In consequence of this letter, the Council of the Royal Society, by a resolution passed at a very full meeting held on the 6th of November, 1827, appointed Mr. Davies Gilbert to fill the chair, until the general body should elect a President, at the ensuing anniversary.

The following letter will show his subsequent course of proceeding.

TO THOMAS POOLE,

Park Street, Grosvenor Square,
Oct. 29, 1827.

MY DEAR POOLE,

I hope you received a letter which I addressed to you from
Ravenna in the spring. It was my intention to have returned to
Italy from the Alpine countries, where I spent the summer; but
my recovery has been so slow, and so much uneasiness in the
head and weakness in the limbs remained in September, that I
thought it wiser to return to my medical advisers in London.

I have consulted all the celebrated men who have written upon
or studied the nervous system. They all have a good opinion
of my case, and they all order absolute repose for at least
twelve months longer, and will not allow me to resume my
scientific duties or labours at present; and they insist upon
my leaving London for the next three or four months, and advise
a residence in the west of England. Now, my dear friend, you
recollect our conversation upon the subject of a residence--I
think Mr. C.'s is not very far from you. Pray let me know
something on this head. I want very little of any thing, for I
am almost on a vegetable diet; and a little horse exercise, a
very little shooting, and a little quiet society, are what I am
in search of, with some facilities of procuring books. I have
thought of Minehead, Ilfracombe, Lymouth, and Penzance; but I
have not yet determined the point.

Horse exercise and shooting are necessary to bring back my
limbs to their former state, and therefore Bath and Brighton
will not do for me. God bless you, my dear Poole, and pray let
me hear from you.

Your affectionate,
H. DAVY.

P.S. I hope you got the copy of my discourses.

TO THE SAME.

Firle, near Lewes, Nov. 4, 1827.

MY DEAR POOLE,

I have this moment received your very kind and most friendly
letter. I have made my first visit to my friend Lord G----,
where I was taken ill last year; and have borne the journey
well, and have enjoyed the small society here; but I am very
weak indeed, and I cannot yet walk more than a mile. One of
three plans, I shall hope to adopt; two of them you have most
amiably suggested, the other is to go to Penzance. My only
objection to the last is the fear of too much society. Whatever
I do, I will first come to you and take your advice.

When I returned, I had little hopes of recovery; but the
assurances of my physicians that I may again, with care, be
re-established, have revived me, and I have certainly gained
ground, and gained strength, by the plan I am now pursuing.

As soon as I return to London, I will write to you. If I can
find a companion, I think Mr. C----'s house will do admirably;
but I must see it, as a temperate situation is a _sine quâ non_.

I need not say how grateful I am for your kindness, and if
I recover, how delighted I shall be to owe the means to so
excellent and invaluable a friend. God bless you.

I am, my dear Poole, your affectionate,

H. DAVY.

TO THE SAME.

Firle, Nov. 7.

MY DEAR POOLE,

I am going to London to-morrow, and after staying two or
three days, to try a new plan of medical treatment, which my
physicians recommend, I shall come westward, and profit by your
kindness, and adopt whichever of the plans will promise to be
most salutary.

If I take Mr. C----'s house, Lady Davy will come to me. With
respect to society, I want only a friend, or one person or two
at most, to prevent entire solitude, and I am too weak to bear
much conversation, and wholly unfit to receive any but persons
with whom I am in the habits of intimacy.

I can hardly express to you how deeply I feel your kindness.

* * * * *

As I must travel slowly, I shall not probably be at Stowey
before Wednesday or Thursday next. Pray do not ask any body
to meet me. I am upon the _strictest_ diet,--a wing of a
chicken and a plain rice or bread pudding is the extreme of my
_gourmanderie_. God bless you.

My dear Poole, your affectionate friend,

H. DAVY.

Mr. Poole has been so obliging as to communicate to me some interesting particulars connected with the visit to which the foregoing letters allude.

"During this last visit, (November and December 1827,) his bodily infirmity was very great, and his sensibility was painfully alive on every occasion. Unhappily, he had to sustain the affliction of the sudden death of Mr. R----, the son of a friend whom he highly valued; and though this afflicting event was, by the considerate and anxious attention of Lady Davy, first communicated to me by letter, to be imparted to him with every precaution, to avoid his being suddenly shocked, yet it was many days before he could recover his usual spirits, feeble as they were, and resume his wonted occupation.

"On his arrival, he said, 'Here I am, the ruin of what I was;' but nevertheless, the same activity and ardour of mind continued, though directed to different objects. He employed himself two or three hours in the morning on his _Salmonia_, which he was then writing; he would afterwards take a short walk, which he accomplished with difficulty, or ride. After dinner, I used to read to him some amusing book. We were particularly interested by Southey's Life of Nelson. 'It would give Southey,' he said, 'great pleasure, if he knew how much his narrative affected us.'[108]

[108] His admiration of this work bursts forth in his _Salmonia_,
which he was writing at that time. He styles it "an immortal
monument raised by Genius to Valour."

"In the evening, Mr. and Mrs. W----, the former of whom he had long known, frequently came to make a rubber at whist. He was averse to seeing strangers; but on being shown the drawings of Natural History of a friend of mine of great talent, Mr. Baker of Bridgwater, he was anxious to know him, and was much pleased with his company. He suggested to him various subjects for investigation, concerning insects, and fish, particularly the eel. What pleasure would it give him were he now alive, to learn the interesting result of those suggestions! I hope the public will soon be made acquainted with them.

"Natural History in general had been a favourite subject with him throughout his protracted illness; and during this last visit to me, he paid attention to that only; 'for,' said he, 'I am prohibited applying, and indeed I am incapable of applying, to any thing which requires severe attention.'

"During the same visit, I remember his inherent love of the laboratory, if I may so express myself, being manifested in a manner which much interested me at the moment. On his visiting with me a gentleman in this neighbourhood, who had offered him his house, and who has an extensive philosophical apparatus, particularly complete in electricity and chemistry, he was fatigued with the journey, and as we were walking round the house very languidly, a door opened, and we were in the laboratory. He threw a glance around the room, his eyes brightened in the action, a glow came over his countenance, and he looked like himself, as he was accustomed to appear twenty years ago.

"You are aware that he was latterly a good shot, always an expert angler, and a great admirer of old Isaac Walton; and that he highly prided himself upon these accomplishments. I used to laugh at him, which he did not like; but it amused me to see such a man give so much importance to those qualifications. He would say, 'It is not the sport only, though there is great pleasure in successful dexterity,[109] but it is the ardour of pursuit, pure air, the contemplation of a fine country, and the exercise--all tend to invigorate the body, and to excite the mind to its best efforts.'

[109] Mr. Children has just communicated to me the following
amusing anecdote, which may be adduced in illustration of the
delight he took in that sporting dexterity to which he alludes
in the above passage. Davy, with a party of friends, had
been engaged for several hours in fishing for pike, but very
unsuccessfully; our philosopher gave up the sport in despair,
but his companions having determined to try some more propitious
spots, left him to his contemplations. About an hour afterwards,
Mr. Children, on returning to his friend, saw him at a distance
seated upon a gate, and apparently lashing the air with his
fishing-line. What could be his object? As soon as Mr. Children
came sufficiently near to make a signal, Davy, by his gestures,
earnestly entreated him to keep away, while he continued his
mysterious motions. At length, however, Mr. Children's patience
was exhausted, and he walked up to him. "Was ever any thing more
provoking!" exclaimed Davy; "if you had only remained quiet
another minute I should have caught him--it is most vexatious!"
"Caught what?" asked Mr. Children. "A dragon-fly," (_Libellula_,)
answered Davy. "During your absence I have been greatly amused by
watching the feeding habits of that insect, and having observed
the eagerness with which they snapped up the little '_midges_,'
I determined to arm my hook with one, and I can assure you I
have had no small degree of sport; and had it not been for your
unwelcome intrusion, I should most undoubtedly have captured one
of them."

"These amusements seemed to become more and more important in his estimation, as his health declined. It was affecting to observe the efforts he made to continue them with diminished strength. From being unable to walk without fatigue for many hours, he was, when he came to me in November 1826, obliged to have a pony to carry him to the field, from which he dismounted only on the certainty of immediate sport. In the following year, he could only take short and occasional rides to the covers, with his dogs around him, and his servant walking by his side and carrying his gun, but which I believe he never fired.

"During this visit, he more than once observed, 'I do not wish to live, as far as I am personally concerned; but I have views which I could develope, if it pleased God to save my life, which would be useful to science and to mankind.'"

Davy returned to town in December, and after an interval wrote the following letter:

TO THOMAS POOLE, ESQ.

Park Street, Grosvenor Square, Dec. 27, 1827.

MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,

I know no reason why I have not written to you. It has been my
intention every day, and I have been every day prevented by the
sense of want of power, which is so painful a symptom of my
malady.

I continue much as I was. My physicians augur well, and I have
some repose in the hopes connected with the indefinite future.
In the last twelve-month, which I hope is a large portion, on
the whole, of my purgatory expiation for crimes of commission
or omission, the most cheerful, or rather the least miserable,
days that I spent, were a good deal owing to your kindness,
which I shall never forget. I would, if it were possible, make
my letter something more than a mere bulletin of health, or the
expression of the feelings of a sick man; but I can communicate
no news. The papers will tell you more than is true; and our
politicians seem ignorant of what they are to do at home, much
more abroad.

* * * * *

I have got for you a copy of my lectures on the Chemistry
of Agriculture, which I shall send to you by the first
opportunity. God bless you, my dear Poole.

I am always your sincere,
Grateful, and affectionate friend,

H. DAVY.

In the letter which follows, Davy dwells upon a subject in Natural History, which appears to have greatly occupied his thoughts, and to have continued a predominant subject of his contemplation, even to the latest day of his life.

TO THOMAS POOLE, ESQ.

Park Street, January 1, 1828.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

I write to you immediately, because that part of your letter
which relates to Mr. Baker's pursuits interests me very much:
but before I begin on this subject, I will give you a short
bulletin of the state of my health. I go on much as I did at
Stowey, and my physicians have made no alterations in the plan
of treatment: I am not worse, and they tell me I shall be
better. Now for Mr. Baker--I am very glad that he is occupied
with those enquiries. I am particularly anxious for information
on the generation of eels; it is an unsolved problem since
the time of Aristotle. I am sure that all eels come from the
sea, where they are bred; but there may be one or two species
or varieties of them. What Mr. Baker says about the difference
between the common eel and the conger is well worthy of
attention; but I have known changes more extraordinary than
the obliteration, or destruction, of a small tubular member
occasioned by difference of habits.

Were the salt-water eels and the fresh-water eels which he
examined of the same size? Many individuals of various sizes
should be examined to establish the fact of their specific
difference. This would be the season for examining the genital
organs of eels, for they breed in winter; and were I a little
better, I should go to the sea for the purpose of making
enquiries on the subject.

Sir Everard Home is firmly convinced that the animal is
hermaphrodite and impregnates itself: this, though possible,
appears to me very strange in so large an animal. If Mr. Baker
will determine this point, I can promise him an immortality
amongst our philosophical anglers and natural historians; and
if he will give us the history of water-flies, imitated by
fly-fishers, he will command our immediate gratitude.

Pray communicate this letter to him with my best wishes, and
with my hopes that his talents, which are very great, will be
applied to enlighten us.

I can give you no news; the weather is dreadful, and the blacks
and yellows are descending in fog. I long for the fresh air of
your mountains.

God bless you, my dear Poole. Many--many happy new years to
you. Pray remember me, with the compliments of this day, to
your excellent neighbours at Stowey. Your affectionate friend,

H. DAVY.

TO THE SAME.

MY DEAR POOLE, Park Street, March 26.

Your letter has given me great pleasure; first, because you,
who are an enlightened judge in such matters, approve of my
humble contribution to agriculture; and, secondly, because it
makes me acquainted with your kind feelings, health, and Mr.
Baker's interesting pursuits.

Mr. Baker appears to me to have distinctly established the
point that the eel and conger are of different species; and
from his zeal and activity, I hope the curious problem of the
generation of these animals will be solved. I shall expect with
impatience the results of his enquiries.

Now for my health, my very dear friend. I wish I could speak
more favourably; I certainly do not lose ground, but I am
doubtful if I gain any; but I do not despair.

I am going, by the advice of my physicians, to try another
Continental journey. If I get considerably better, I shall
winter in Italy, where, in this case, I shall hope to see you,
and where I shall have an apartment ready for you in Rome.

I have not been idle since I left your comfortable and
hospitable house. I have finished my _Salmonia_, and sent it
to the press.--"_Flumina amo sylvasque inglorius._"--I do not
think you will be displeased with this little _jeu_ of my sick
hours.

Mr. A---- was very amiable in calling on me. There is nothing
that annoys me so much in my illness as my helplessness in not
being able to indulge in society.

Your grateful and affectionate friend,

H. DAVY.

We will now, for a while, leave our philosopher to pursue his journey to Italy, while we take a review of his SALMONIA; the first edition of which was published in the Spring of 1828. The second, and much improved edition,[110] from which I shall take my extracts, is dated from Laybach, Illyria, September 28, 1828, but which did not appear until 1829.

[110] "Salmonia, or Days of Fly-fishing; in a series
of Conversations; with some account of the habits of
Fishes belonging to the genus Salmo. By an Angler. Second
edition.--London, John Murray, 1829."

We are told in the preface, that these pages formed the occupation of the author during some months of severe and dangerous illness, when he was wholly incapable of attending to more useful studies, or of following more serious pursuits;--that they constituted his amusement in many hours, which otherwise would have been unoccupied and tedious;--and that they are published in the hope that they may possess an interest for those persons who derive pleasure from the simplest and most attainable kind of rural sports, and who practise the art, or patronise the objects of contemplation, of the philosophical angler.

He informs us that the conversational manner and discursive style were chosen as best suited to the state of health of the author, who was incapable of considerable efforts and long continued attention; and he adds, that he could not but have in mind a model, which has fully proved the utility and popularity of this method of treating this subject--"The Complete Angler," by Walton and Cotton.

The characters chosen to support these conversations, were HALIEUS, who is supposed to be an accomplished fly-fisher--ORNITHER, who is to be regarded as a gentleman generally fond of the sports of the field, though not a finished master of the art of angling--POIETES, who is to be considered as an enthusiastic lover of nature, and partially acquainted with the mysteries of fly-fishing; and PHYSICUS, who is described uninitiated as an angler, but as a person fond of enquiries in natural history and philosophy.

Such are the personages by whose aid the machinery is to be worked; but he tells us that they are of course imaginary, though the sentiments attributed to them, the author may sometimes have gained from recollections of real conversations with friends, from whose society much of the happiness of his early life had been derived; and he admits that, in the portrait of the character of HALIEUS, given in the last dialogue, a likeness will not fail to be recognised to that of the character of a most estimable physician, ardently beloved by his friends, and esteemed and venerated by the public.

The work is dedicated to Dr. Babington, "in remembrance of some delightful days passed in his society, and in gratitude for an uninterrupted friendship of a quarter of a century."

I am informed by Lady Davy, that the engravings of the fish, by which the work is illustrated, are from drawings of his own execution; so that he could not, like old Isaac Walton, "take the liberty to commend the excellent pictures to him that likes not the book, because they concern not himself."

It has frequently happened that, while works of deep importance have justly conferred celebrity upon the author, his minor productions have been entirely indebted to his name for their popularity, and to his authority for their value. This, however, cannot be said of Salmonia, for it possesses the stamp of original genius, and bears internal evidence of a talent flowing down from a very high source of intelligence. In a scientific point of view, it exhibits that penetrating observation by which a gifted mind is enabled to extract out of the most ordinary facts and every-day incidents, novel views and hidden truths; while it shows that a humble art (I beg pardon of the brothers of the Angle) may, through the skill of the master, be made the means of calling forth the affections of the heart, and of reflecting all the colours of the fancy. By regarding the work in relation to the history and condition of its author, it certainly acquires much additional interest. The familiar and inviting style of the dialogue, whenever he discusses questions of natural history, must convince us that he was as well calculated to instruct in the Lyceum, as we long since knew him to be to teach in the Academy.

Composed in the hour of sickness and prostration, the work displays throughout its composition a tone of dignified morality and an expansion of feeling, which may be regarded as in unison with a mind chastened but not subdued, and looking forward to a better state of existence. "I envy," says he, "no quality of the mind or intellect in others; be it genius, power, wit, or fancy: but if I could choose what would be most delightful, and I believe most useful to me, I should prefer a firm religious belief to every other blessing; for it makes life a discipline of goodness; creates new hopes, when all earthly hopes vanish; and throws over the decay, the destruction of existence, the most gorgeous of all lights; awakens life even in death, and from corruption and decay calls up beauty and divinity; makes an instrument of torture and of shame the ladder of ascent to paradise; and, far above all combinations of earthly hopes, calls up the most delightful visions of palms and amaranths, the gardens of the blest, the security of everlasting joys, where the sensualist and the sceptic view only gloom, decay, annihilation, and despair!"

While describing an animated scene of insect enjoyment, he bursts into an apostrophe, highly characteristic of that quick and happy talent for seizing analogies, which so eminently distinguished all his writings. I shall quote the passage.

"_Physicus._--Since the sun has disappeared, the cool of the evening has, I suppose, driven the little winged plunderers to their homes; but see, there are two or three humble bees which seem languid with the cold, and yet they have their tongues still in the fountain of honey. I believe one of them is actually dead, yet his mouth is still attached to the flower. He has fallen asleep, and probably died whilst making his last meal of ambrosia.

"_Ornither._--What an enviable destiny, quitting life in the moment of enjoyment, following an instinct, the gratification of which has been always pleasurable! so beneficent are the laws of Divine Wisdom.