CHAPTER XIV.

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.

"_Physicus._--Like Ornither, I consider the destiny of this

insect as desirable, and I cannot help regarding the end of human

life as most happy, when terminated under the impulse of some

strong energetic feeling, similar in its nature to an instinct. I

should not wish to die like Attila, in a moment of gross sensual

enjoyment; but the death of Epaminondas or Nelson, in the arms of

victory, their whole attention absorbed in the love of glory, and

of their country, I think really enviable.

"_Poietes._--I consider the death of the martyr or the saint as

far more enviable; for, in this case, what may be considered as a

Divine instinct of our nature is called into exertion, and pain is

subdued, or destroyed, by a secure faith in the power and mercy of

the Divinity. In such cases, man rises above mortality, and shows

his true intellectual superiority. By intellectual superiority,

I mean that of his spiritual nature, for I do not consider the

results of reason as capable of being compared with those of faith.

Reason is often a dead weight in life, destroying feeling, and

substituting, for principle, calculation and caution; and, in the

hour of death, it often produces fear or despondency, and is rather

a bitter draught than nectar or ambrosia in the last meal of life.

"_Halieus._--I agree with Poietes. The higher and more intense

the feeling under which death takes place, the happier it may be

esteemed; and I think even Physicus will be of our opinion, when

I recollect the conclusion of a conversation in Scotland. The

immortal being never can quit life with so much pleasure as with

the feeling of immortality secure, and the vision of celestial

glory filling the mind, affected by no other passion than the pure

and intense love of God."

We are not to suppose that, however soothing and consolatory such

feelings and hopes may have been, they weaned him from the world,

or diminished his natural love of life; on the contrary, no one

would have more gratefully received the services of a Medea, as

the following passage will sufficiently testify. "Ah! could I

recover any thing like that freshness of mind which I possessed

at twenty-five, and which, like the dew of the dawning morning,

covered all objects and nourished all things that grew, and in

which they were more beautiful even than in midday sunshine,--what

would I not give! All that I have gained in an active and not

unprofitable life. How well I remember that delightful season,

when, full of power, I sought for power in others; and power was

sympathy, and sympathy power;--when the dead and the unknown, the

great of other ages and of distant places were made, by the force

of the imagination, my companions and friends;--when every voice

seemed one of praise and love;--when every flower had the bloom

and odour of the rose; and every spray or plant seemed either the

poet's laurel, or the civic oak--which appeared to offer themselves

as wreaths to adorn my throbbing brow. But, alas! this cannot

be.----"

After the example of the great Patriarch of Anglers, the author

of Salmonia commences, through the assistance of the principal

interlocutor of the dialogue, HALIEUS, to enumerate the delights of

his art, and to vindicate it from the charge of cruelty.

"_Halieus._--The search after food is an instinct belonging to our

nature; and from the savage in his rudest and most primitive state,

who destroys a piece of game, or a fish, with a club or spear, to

man in the most cultivated state of society, who employs artifice,

machinery, and the resources of various other animals, to secure

his object, the origin of the pleasure is similar, and its object

the same: but that kind of it requiring most art may be said to

characterize man in his highest or intellectual state; and the

fisher for salmon and trout with the fly employs not only machinery

to assist his physical powers, but applies sagacity to conquer

difficulties; and the pleasure derived from ingenious resources

and devices, as well as from active pursuit, belongs to this

amusement. Then, as to its philosophical tendency, it is a pursuit

of moral discipline, requiring patience, forbearance, and command

of temper. As connected with natural science, it may be vaunted

as demanding a knowledge of the habits of a considerable tribe of

created beings,--fishes, and the animals that they prey upon, and

an acquaintance with the signs and tokens of the weather, and its

changes, the nature of waters, and of the atmosphere. As to its

poetical relations, it carries us into the most wild and beautiful

scenery of nature; amongst the mountain lakes, and the clear and

lovely streams that gush from the higher ranges of elevated hills,

or that make their way through the cavities of calcareous strata.

How delightful in the early spring, after the dull and tedious

time of winter, when the frosts disappear and the sunshine warms

the earth and waters, to wander forth by some clear stream, to see

the leaf bursting from the purple bud, to scent the odours of the

bank perfumed by the violet, and enamelled, as it were, with the

primrose and the daisy; to wander upon the fresh turf below the

shade of trees, whose bright blossoms are filled with the music of

the bee; and on the surface of the waters to view the gaudy flies

sparkling like animated gems in the sunbeams, whilst the bright and

beautiful trout is watching them from below; to hear the twittering

of the water birds, who, alarmed at your approach, rapidly hide

themselves beneath the flowers and leaves of the water-lily; and,

as the season advances, to find all these objects changed for

others of the same kind, but better and brighter, till the swallow

and the trout contend, as it were, for the gaudy Mayfly, and till,

in pursuing your amusement in the calm and balmy evening, you

are serenaded by the songs of the cheerful thrush and melodious

nightingale, performing the offices of paternal love, in thickets

ornamented with the rose and woodbine."

On vindicating the pursuit from the charge of cruelty, he has

advanced an argument that has not been commonly adduced upon this

occasion. We have indeed all heard, that the operation of skinning

is a matter of indifference to eels when they are used to it; but

we are now told fish are so little annoyed by the hook, that though

a trout has been hooked and played with for some minutes, he will

often, after his escape with the artificial fly in his mouth,

take the natural fly, and feed as if nothing had happened; having

apparently learnt only from the experiment, that the artificial fly

is not proper food. "I have caught pikes with four or five hooks in

their mouths, and tackle which they had broken only a few minutes

before; and the hooks seemed to have had no other effect than that

of serving as a sort of _sauce piquante_, urging them to seize

another morsel of the same kind."

Our author, however, takes a more special defence, by observing

that, unlike old Isaac, he employs an artificial fly, instead of

a living bait. Our notions about the cruelty of field sports is

extremely capricious. Until the time of the Reformation, the canon

law prohibited the use of the sanguinary recreations of hunting,

hawking, and fowling, while the clergy, on account of their

leisure, were allowed to exercise the harmless and humane art of

angling. In later days, the indignation against this art has been

excited by the supposed sufferings of the worm or bait, rather than

by those of the fish; and thus far the author of Salmonia assumed

a strong posture of defence; but he did not avail himself of all

the advantages it commanded. He might have pleaded, that every

fish he caught by his artificial fly was destined to prey upon an

insect, and that by substituting a piece of silk for the latter,

he would for every fish he might destroy, save from destruction

many of those fairy beings that animate the air and sparkle in the

sunbeam;--but it is, after all, folly to argue upon the subject of

cruelty in our field sports. That animals should live by preying

upon each other is the very basis of the scheme of creation; and

in these days it is not necessary to expose the absurdities of the

system of Samos and Indostan. Dr. Franklin, at one period of his

life, entertained a sentimental abhorrence at eating any thing that

had possessed life; and the reader may, perhaps, not object to be

reminded of the manner in which he was cured of his prejudice.

"I considered," says he, "the capture of every fish as a sort of

murder, committed without provocation, since these animals had

neither done, nor were capable of doing, the smallest injury to

any one that should justify the measure. This mode of reasoning

I conceived to be unanswerable. Meanwhile, I had formerly been

extremely fond of fish; and when one of the cod was taken out of

the frying-pan, I thought its flavour delicious. I hesitated some

time between principle and inclination, till at last recollecting

that, when the cod had been opened, some small fish were found

in its belly, I said to myself, 'If you eat each other, I see no

reason why we may not eat you,'--(His "wish was father to that

thought")--I accordingly dined on the cod with no small degree of

pleasure, and have since continued to eat like the rest of mankind."

HALIEUS is made to admit the danger of analysing too closely

the moral character of any of our field sports; and yet, in the

concluding chapter, he very unfairly and inconsistently attempts

to ridicule the pursuit of a fox-hunter, "risking his neck to see

the hounds destroy an animal which he preserves to be destroyed,

and which is good for nothing." He who pursues a pleasure because

it is rational, reasons because he cannot feel. "When the heart,"

says Sterne, "flies out before the understanding, it saves the

judgment a world of pains."

Having, as the author thinks satisfactorily, settled the

preliminary questions, HALIEUS, succeeds in persuading PHYSICUS to

join him in fishing excursions; just as _Piscator_ is represented

by old Isaac, as having enlisted _Venator_ into the brotherhood of

the angle.

The dialogue now proceeds with great animation, during which the

art and mystery of Piscatory tactics are unfolded with great skill;

for the details of which the reader must be referred to the work

itself. If, however, he be not already an angler, it may save him

a world of pains to be informed, that to learn to fish by the book

is little less absurd than "to make hay by the fair days in the

almanack."

The manner in which he treats the various subjects of natural

history necessarily connected with the pursuit is both amusing and

instructive; and the whole work is studded and gemmed, as it were,

with the most poetical descriptions.

In speaking of the swallow, _Poietes_ exclaims--"I delight in this

living landscape! The swallow is one of my favourite birds, and a

rival of the nightingale; for he cheers my sense of seeing as much

as the other does my sense of hearing. He is the glad prophet of

the year, the harbinger of the best season: he lives a life of

enjoyment amongst the loveliest forms of nature: winter is unknown

to him; and he leaves the green meadows of England in autumn, for

the myrtle and orange groves of Italy, and for the palms of Africa:

he has always objects of pursuit, and his success is secure.

Even the beings selected for his prey are poetical, beautiful,

and transient. The ephemeræ are saved by his means from a slow

and lingering death in the evening, and killed in a moment, when

they have known nothing of life but pleasure. He is the constant

destroyer of insects--the friend of man; and, with the stork and

the ibis, may be regarded as a sacred bird. His instinct, which

gives him his appointed seasons, and teaches him always when and

where to move, may be regarded as flowing from a divine source;

and he belongs to the oracles of Nature, which speak the awful and

intelligible language of a present Deity."

_Poietes_ considers a full and clear river as the most poetical

object in Nature.--"I will not fail to obey your summons. Pliny

has, as well as I recollect, compared a river to human life.

I have never read the passage in his works; but I have been a

hundred times struck with the analogy, particularly amidst mountain

scenery. The river, small and clear in its origin, gushes forth

from rocks, falls into deep glens, and wantons and meanders through

a wild and picturesque country, nourishing only the uncultivated

tree or flower by its dew or spray. In this, its state of infancy

and youth, it may be compared to the human mind, in which fancy and

strength of imagination are predominant--it is more beautiful than

useful. When the different rills or torrents join, and descend

into the plain, it becomes slow and stately in its motions; it is

applied to move machinery, to irrigate meadows, and to bear upon

its bosom the stately barge;--in this mature state it is deep,

strong, and useful. As it flows on towards the sea, it loses its

force and its motion, and at last, as it were, becomes lost, and

mingled with the mighty abyss of waters."

_Halieus_ adds--"One might pursue the metaphor still farther, and

say, that in its origin--its thundering and foam, when it carries

down clay from the bank, and becomes impure, it resembles the

youthful mind, affected by dangerous passions. And the influence

of a lake, in calming and clearing the turbid water, may be

compared to the effect of reason in more mature life, when the

tranquil, deep, cool, and unimpassioned mind is freed from its

fever, its troubles, bubbles, noise, and foam. And, above all,

the sources of a river--which may be considered as belonging to

the atmosphere--and its termination in the ocean, may be regarded

as imaging the divine origin of the human mind, and its being

ultimately returned to, and lost in, the infinite and eternal

Intelligence from which it originally sprang."

_Halieus_ offers some curious observations with respect to the

recollection of fish being associated with surrounding objects.

"I have known a fish that I have pricked retain his station in the

river, and refuse the artificial fly, day after day, for weeks

together; but his memory may have been kept awake by this practice,

and the recollection seems local, and associated with surrounding

objects; and if a pricked trout is chased into another pool, he

will, I believe, soon again take the artificial fly. Or, if the

objects around him are changed, as in autumn, by the decay of

weeds, or by their being cut, the same thing happens; and a flood

or a rough wind, I believe, assists the fly-fisher, not merely by

obscuring the vision of the fish, but, in a river much fished, by

changing the appearance of their haunts: large trouts almost always

occupy particular stations, under, or close to, a large stone

or tree; and probably, most of their recollected sensations are

connected with this dwelling.

"_Physicus._--I think I understand you, that the memory of the

danger and pain does not last long, unless there is a permanent

sensation with which it can remain associated,--such as the station

of the trout; and that the recollection of the mere form of the

artificial fly, without this association, is evanescent.

"_Ornither._--You are diving into metaphysics; yet, I think, in

fowling, I have observed that the memory of birds is local. A

woodcock that has been much shot at and scared in a particular

wood, runs to the side where he has usually escaped, the moment he

hears the dogs; but if driven into a new wood, he seems to lose his

acquired habits of caution, and becomes stupid."

In alluding to the migrations of fishes, _Physicus_ observes, "That

he has always considered that the two great sources of change

of place of animals, was the providing of food for themselves,

and resting-places and food for their young. The great supposed

migrations of herrings from the poles to the temperate zone appear

to be only the approach of successive shoals from deep to shallow

water, for the purpose of spawning. The migrations of salmon and

trout are evidently for the purpose of depositing their ova, or of

finding food after they have spawned."

In explaining the circumstances which render a migration into

shallow water necessary for the developement of the ova,

Davy evidently bears in mind the result of his very first

experiment.[111]

[111] Vol. i. page 40.

"Carp, perch, and pike, deposit their ova in still water, in

spring and summer, _when it is supplied with air by the growth

of vegetables; and it is to the leaves of plants, which afford a

continual supply of oxygen to the water, that the impregnated eggs

usually adhere_." Again: "Fish in spawning-time always approach

great shallows, or shores covered with weeds, _which, in the

process of their growth, under the influence of the sunshine,

constantly supply pure air to the water in contact with them_."

The following passage will afford a good specimen of the familiar

dialogue, while it will convey to the reader some curious facts

connected with the influence of sunshine.

"_Halieus._--Well, gentlemen, what sport?

"_Poietes._--The fish are rising every where; but though we have

been throwing over them with all our skill for a quarter of an

hour, yet not a single one will take; and I am afraid we shall

return to breakfast without our prey.

"_Halieus._--I will try; but I shall go to the other side, where

I see a very large fish rising--There!--I have him at the very

first throw--Land this fish, and put him into the well. Now, I have

another; and I have no doubt I could take half-a-dozen in this very

place, where you have been so long in fishing without success.

"_Physicus._--You must have a different fly; or, have you some

unguent or charm to tempt the fish?

"_Halieus._--No such thing. If any of you will give me your rod and

fly, I will answer for it. I shall have the same success. I take

your rod, Physicus--and lo! I have a fish!

"_Physicus._--What can be the reason of this? It is perfectly

inexplicable to me. Yet Poietes seems to throw as light as you do,

and as well as he did yesterday.

"_Halieus._--I am surprised that you, who are a philosopher, cannot

discover the reason of this--Think a little.

"_All._--We cannot.

"_Halieus._--As you are my scholars, I believe I must teach you.

The sun is bright, and you have been, naturally enough, fishing

with your backs to the sun, which, not being very high, has thrown

the shadows of your rods and yourselves upon the water, and you

have alarmed the fish, wherever you have thrown a fly. You see, I

have fished with my face towards the sun, and though inconvenienced

by the light, have given no alarm. Follow my example, and you will

soon have sport, as there is a breeze playing on the water.

"_Physicus._--Your sagacity puts me in mind of an anecdote which

I remember to have heard respecting the late eloquent statesman,

Charles James Fox; who, walking up Bond Street from one of the

club-houses with an illustrious personage, laid him a wager, that

he would see more cats than the Prince in his walk, and that he

might take which side of the way he liked. When they got to the

top, it was found, that Mr. Fox had seen thirteen cats, and the

Prince not one. The Royal personage asked for an explanation of

this apparent miracle, and Mr. Fox said, 'Your Royal Highness took,

of course, the shady side of the way, as most agreeable; I knew

that the sunny side would be left to me,--and cats always prefer

the sunshine.'

"_Halieus._--There! Poietes, by following my advice, you have

immediately hooked a fish; and while you are catching a brace, I

will tell you an anecdote, which as much relates to fly-fishing as

that of Physicus, and affords an elucidation of a particular effect

of light.

"A manufacturer of carmine, who was aware of the superiority of

the French colour, went to Lyons for the purpose of improving his

process, and bargained with the most celebrated manufacturer in

that capital for the acquisition of his secret, for which he was

to pay a thousand pounds. He was shown all the processes, and saw

a beautiful colour produced, yet he found not the least difference

in the French mode of fabrication and that which he had constantly

adopted. He appealed to the manufacturer, and insisted that he

must have concealed something. The manufacturer assured him that

he had not, and invited him to see the process a second time.

He minutely examined the water and the materials, which were the

same as his own, and, very much surprised, said, 'I have lost my

labour and my money, for the air of England does not permit us to

make good carmine.'--'Stay,' says the Frenchman, 'do not deceive

yourself; what kind of weather is it now?'--'A bright, sunny day,'

said the Englishman.--'And such are the days,' said the Frenchman,

'on which I make my colour. Were I to attempt to manufacture it on

a dark or cloudy day, my result would be the same as yours. Let me

advise you, my friend, always to make carmine on bright and sunny

days.'--'I will,' says the Englishman, 'but I fear I shall make

very little in London.'

"_Poietes._--Your anecdote is as much to the purpose as Physicus's;

yet I am much obliged to you for the hint respecting the effect of

shadow, for I have several times, in May and June, had to complain

of too clear a sky, and wished, with Cotton, for

'A day with not too bright a beam;

A warm, but not a scorching sun.'"

A very amusing and philosophical conversation on those natural

phenomena, which have been vulgarly viewed as prophetic of dry or

wet weather, may be well adduced as illustrative of that genius

which, by the aid of a light of its own, imparts to the most trite

objects all the charms of novelty.

"_Poietes._--I hope we shall have another good day to-morrow, for

the clouds are red in the west.

"_Physicus._--I have no doubt of it, for the red has a tint of

purple.

"_Halieus._--Do you know why this tint portends fine weather?

"_Physicus._--The air when dry, I believe, refracts more red, or

heat-making rays; and as dry air is not perfectly transparent, they

are again reflected in the horizon. I have generally observed a

coppery or yellow sunset to foretell rain; but, as an indication of

wet weather approaching, nothing is more certain than a halo round

the moon, which is produced by the precipitated water; and the

larger the circle, the nearer the clouds, and consequently the more

ready to fall.

"_Halieus._--I have often observed, that the old proverb is

correct--

'A rainbow in the morning is the shepherd's warning;

A rainbow at night is the shepherd's delight.'

--Can you explain this omen?

"_Physicus._--A rainbow can only occur when the clouds containing

or depositing the rain are opposite to the sun; and in the evening

the rainbow is in the east, and in the morning in the west; and as

our heavy rains in this climate are usually brought by the westerly

wind, a rainbow in the west indicates that the bad weather is on

the road, by the wind, to us; whereas the rainbow in the east

proves, that the rain in these clouds is passing from us.

"_Poietes._--I have often observed, that when the swallows fly

high, fine weather is to be expected or continued; but when they

fly low and close to the ground, rain is almost surely approaching.

Can you account for this?

"_Halieus._--Swallows follow the flies and gnats, and flies and

gnats usually delight in warm strata of air; and as warm air is

lighter, and usually moister than cold air, when the warm strata of

air are high, there is less chance of moisture being thrown down

from them by the mixture with cold air; but when the warm and moist

air is close to the surface, it is almost certain, that as the cold

air flows down into it, a deposition of water will take place.

"_Poietes._--I have often seen sea-gulls assemble on the land, and

have almost always observed, that very stormy and rainy weather was

approaching. I conclude that these animals, sensible of a current

of air approaching from the ocean, retire to the land to shelter

themselves from the storm.

"_Ornither._--No such thing. The storm is their element; and the

little petrel enjoys the heaviest gale; because, living on the

smaller sea insects, he is sure to find his food in the spray

of a heavy wave. And you may see him flitting above the edge of

the highest surge. I believe that the reason of the migration of

sea-gulls and other sea birds to the land, is their security of

finding food. They may be observed, at this time, feeding greedily

on the earth worms and larvæ driven out of the ground by severe

floods; and the fish on which they prey in fine weather in the sea,

leave the surface when storms prevail, and go deeper. The search

after food, as we agreed on a former occasion, is the principal

cause why animals change their places. The different tribes of

the wading birds always migrate when rain is about to take place;

and I remember once in Italy having been long waiting, in the end

of March, for the arrival of the double snipe in the Campagna of

Rome: a great flight appeared on the 3rd of April, and the day

after heavy rain set in, which greatly interfered with my sport.

The vulture, upon the same principle, follows armies; and I have

no doubt, that the augury of the ancients was a good deal founded

upon the observation of the instincts of birds. There are many

superstitions of the vulgar owing to the same source. For anglers,

in spring, it is always unlucky to see _single_ magpies; but _two_

may be always regarded as a favourable omen; and the reason is,

that in cold and stormy weather, one magpie alone leaves the nest

in search of food, the other remaining sitting upon the eggs or the

young ones; but when two go out together, the weather is warm and

mild, and thus favourable for fishing.

"_Poietes._--The singular connexions of cause and effect, to which

you have just referred, make superstition less to be wondered at,

particularly amongst the vulgar; and when two facts, naturally

unconnected, have been accidentally coincident, it is not singular

that this coincidence should have been observed and registered, and

that omens of the most absurd kind should be trusted in. In the

West of England, half a century ago, a particular hollow noise on

the sea-coast was referred to a spirit or goblin, called Bucca, and

was supposed to foretell a shipwreck; the philosopher knows, that

sound travels much faster than currents in the air--and the sound

always foretold the approach of a very heavy storm, which seldom

takes place on that wild and rocky coast, surrounded as it is by

the Atlantic, without a shipwreck on some part of its extensive

shores.[112]

[112] Davy might also have adduced an equally striking

superstition, in illustration of his subject, from the Cornish

mines. The miners not unfrequently hear the echo of their own

pickaxes, which they attribute to little fairies at work, and

consider it as a happy omen. They say upon such occasions, that

there will be good luck, as the Piskeys are at work. It is well

known that the echo depends upon some cavity in the vicinity of

the workmen,--and a cavity, or vogue, is always an indication of

subterranean wealth.

"_Physicus._--All the instances of omens you have mentioned are

founded on reason; but how can you explain such absurdities as

Friday being an unlucky day, the terror of spilling salt, or

meeting an old woman? I knew a man of very high dignity, who

was exceedingly moved by these omens, and who never went out

shooting without a bittern's claw fastened to his button-hole by a

riband--which he thought ensured him good luck.

"_Poietes._--These, as well as the omens of deathwatches,

dreams, &c. are for the most part founded upon some accidental

coincidences; but spilling of salt, on an uncommon occasion, may,

as I have known it, arise from a disposition to apoplexy, shown by

an incipient numbness in the hand, and may be a fatal symptom; and

persons dispirited by bad omens sometimes prepare the way for evil

fortune; for confidence in success is a great means of insuring

it. The dream of Brutus, before the field of Philippi, probably

produced a species of irresolution and despondency, which was the

principal cause of his losing the battle; and I have heard, that

the illustrious sportsman, to whom you referred just now, was

always observed to shoot ill, because he shot carelessly, after one

of his dispiriting omens.

"_Halieus._--I have in life met with a few things which I found

it impossible to explain, either by chance, coincidences, or by

natural connexions; and I have known minds of a very superior class

affected by them,--persons in the habit of reasoning deeply and

profoundly.

"_Physicus._--In my opinion, profound minds are the most likely to

think lightly of the resources of human reason; it is the pert,

superficial thinker who is generally strongest in every kind of

unbelief. The deep philosopher sees chains of causes and effects

so wonderfully and strangely linked together, that he is usually

the last person to decide upon the impossibility of any two series

of events being independent of each other; and in science, so many

natural miracles, as it were, have been brought to light,--such as

the fall of stones from meteors in the atmosphere, the disarming a

thunder-cloud by a metallic point, the production of fire from ice

by a metal white as silver, and referring certain laws of motion of

the sea to the moon,--that the physical enquirer is seldom disposed

to assert, confidently, on any abstruse subjects belonging to the

order of natural things, and still less so on those relating to the

more mysterious relations of moral events and intellectual natures."

Old Isaac Walton has amused us with a variety of absurd fables

and superstitions: the author of Salmonia, on the other hand,

touches, as with the spear of Ithuriel, the monsters and prodigies

of the older writers, and they at once assume the forms of

well-ascertained animals, or vegetables. The _sea snake_ seen by

American and Norwegian captains, appears as a company of porpoises,

which in their gambols, by rising and sinking in lines, would give

somewhat the appearance of the coils of a snake. The _Kraken_, or

island fish, is reduced into an assemblage of _urticæ marinæ_, or

sea blubbers. The _Mermaid_, into the long-haired seal;[113] and

lastly, the celebrated Caithness Mermaid assumes the unpoetical

form of a stout young traveller;--but this story is far too amusing

to be dismissed with a passing notice.

[113] A pretended Mermaid was exhibited some time since in

London, said to have been caught in the Chinese seas. It was soon

discovered to have been manufactured by joining together the head

and bust of two different apes to the lower part of a kipper

salmon, which had the fleshy fin, and all the distinct characters

of the _Salmo Salar_.

"A worthy Baronet, remarkable for his benevolent views and active

spirit, has propagated a story of this kind, and he seems to claim

for his native country the honour of possessing this extraordinary

animal; but the mermaid of Caithness was certainly a _gentleman_,

who happened to be travelling on that wild shore, and who was

seen bathing by some young ladies at so great a distance, that

not only _genus_ but gender was mistaken. I am acquainted with

him, and have had the story from his own mouth. He is a young man,

fond of geological pursuits, and one day in the middle of August,

having fatigued and heated himself by climbing a rock to examine

a particular appearance of granite, he gave his clothes to his

Highland guide, who was taking care of his pony, and descended

to the sea. The sun was just setting, and he amused himself for

some time by swimming from rock to rock, and having unclipped hair

and no cap, he sometimes threw aside his locks, and wrung the

water from them on the rocks. He happened the year after to be at

Harrowgate, and was sitting at table with two young ladies from

Caithness, who were relating to a wondering audience the story of

the mermaid they had seen, which had already been published in the

newspapers: they described her, as she usually is described by

poets, as a beautiful animal with remarkably fair skin and long

green hair. The young gentleman took the liberty, as most of the

rest of the company did, to put a few questions to the elder of

the two ladies,--such as, on what day and precisely where this

singular phenomenon had appeared. She had noted down not merely

the day, but the hour and minute, and produced a map of the place.

Our bather referred to his journal, and showed that a human animal

was swimming in the very spot at that very time, who had some of

the characters ascribed to the mermaid, but who laid no claim to

others, particularly the green hair and fish's tail, but, being

rather sallow in the face, was glad to have such testimony to the

colour of his body beneath his garments."

With this story, I must conclude my review of "Salmonia,"--a work

of considerable scientific and popular interest, and which cannot

fail to become the favourite companion of the philosophical angler.

The only production with which it can be at all compared is that

of the "Complete Angler, by Izaac Walton." I agree with the critic

who regards the two authors as pilgrims bound for the same shrine,

resembling each other in their general habit--the scalloped hat,

the dalmatique, and the knobbed and spiked staff--which equalize

all who assume the character; yet, though alike in purpose, dress,

and demeanour, the observant eye can doubtless discern an essential

difference betwixt those devotees. The burgess does not make his

approach to the shrine with the stately pace of a knight or a

noble; the simple and uninformed rustic has not the contemplative

step of the philosopher, or the quick glance of the poet. The palm

of originality and of exquisite simplicity, which cannot perhaps be

imitated with entire success, must remain with the common father

of anglers--the patriarch Izaac; but it would be absurd to compare

his work with the one written by the most distinguished philosopher

of the nineteenth century, whose genius, like a sunbeam, illumined

every recess which it penetrated, imparting to scarcely visible

objects, definite forms and various colours.

If the advanced age of Walton was pleaded by himself as a

sufficient reason for procuring "_a writ of ease_," the friends

of Davy may surely claim at the hands of the critic an indulgent

reception for a congenial work written in the hour of bodily

lassitude and sickness. This benevolent feeling, however, did

not penetrate every heart. A passage, which I shall presently

quote, appears to have given great offence to the President of the

Mechanics' Institute, and to have been considered by him as the

indication of a covert hostility to the spread of knowledge. The

earth had scarcely closed upon the remains of the philosopher,

when, in his anniversary speech,[114] the Autocrat of all the

Mechanics, availing himself of this pretext, assailed his character

with the charge of "conceit, pride, and arrogance."

[114] See a Report of the President's speech, at the sixth

anniversary of the Mechanics' Institute, as reported in all the

journals of the day, December 5, 1829.

The following is the passage in Salmonia, which provoked this angry

and unjust philippic.

"I am sorry to say, I think the system carried too far in England.

God forbid, that any useful light should be extinguished! let the

persons who wish for education receive it; but it appears to me

that, in the great cities in England, it is, as it were, forced

upon the population; and that sciences, which the lower classes

can only very superficially acquire, are presented to them; in

consequence of which they often become idle and conceited, and

above their usual laborious occupations. The unripe fruit of

the tree of knowledge is, I believe, always bitter or sour; and

scepticism and discontentment--sicknesses of the mind--are often

the result of devouring it."

Methinks I hear the reader exclaim--"How little could Davy imagine

that his prophetic words would have been so soon fulfilled!"--But

I would seriously recommend to the President of the Mechanics'

Institute, an anecdote which, if properly applied, cannot fail to

be instructive.--When Diogenes, trampling with his dirty feet on

the embroidered couch of Plato, cried out--"_Thus do I trample

on the pride of Plato!_" the philosopher shook his head, and

replied--"_Truly, but with more pride thou dost it, good Diogenes._"