It was not until twelve months after the publication of his first Bakerian Lecture, that Davy received the intelligence that the prize of three thousand francs had been awarded him by the Institute of France, for his discoveries announced in the Philosophical Transactions for the year 1807.

Mr. Poole, in a late communication, informs me that he was in London soon after the letter communicating this gratifying intelligence had been received from France; and that Davy, upon showing it to him, observed, "Some people say I ought not to accept this prize; and there have been foolish paragraphs in the papers to that effect; but if the two countries or governments are at war, the men of science are not. That would, indeed, be a civil war of the worst description: we should rather, through the instrumentality of men of science, soften the asperities of national hostility."

After Davy had been elected Secretary to the Royal Society, he appears to have been confined to town during the autumn of 1807, when he wrote the following letter.

While the Electro-chemical laws, developed in the last chapter, are fresh in the recollection of the reader, I shall proceed to the consideration of his second Bakerian Lecture, which was read in November 1807; and in which he announces the discovery of the metallic bases of the fixed alkalies,—a discovery immediately arising from the application of Voltaic electricity, directed in accordance with those laws;—thus having, as we have seen in the first instance, ascended from particular phenomena to general principles, he now descends from those principles to the discovery of new phenomena: a method of investigation by which he may be said to have applied to his inductions the severest tests of truth, and to have produced a chain of evidence without having a single link deficient.

Since the account given by Newton of his first discoveries in Optics, it may be questioned whether so happy and successful an instance of philosophical induction has ever been afforded as that by which Davy discovered the composition of the fixed alkalies. Had it been true, as was most unjustly insinuated at the time, that the discovery was accidentally effected by the high power of the apparatus placed at his disposal, his claims to our admiration would have assumed a very different character: in such a case, he might be said to have forced open the sanctuary of Nature by direct violence, instead of having discovered and touched the secret spring by which its portals were unclosed. The justice of these remarks will best appear in the examination of his memoir: the highest eulogy that can be conferred on its author will be a faithful and plain history of its contents.

It will be remembered that, in his preceding lecture of 1806, he had described a number of decompositions and chemical changes produced in substances of known composition, by the powers of electricity, and that in all such cases there invariably subsisted an attraction between oxygen and the positive pole, and between inflammable matter and the negative pole of the pile: thus, in the decomposition of water, its oxygen was transferred to the former, and its hydrogen to the latter. Furnished with such data, Davy proceeded to submit a fixed alkali to the most intense action of the Voltaic apparatus, well convinced that, should the electrical energy be adequate to effect its decomposition, the elements would be transferred, according to this general law, to their respective poles.

His first attempts were made on solutions of the alkalies; but, notwithstanding the intensity of the electric action, the water alone underwent decomposition, and oxygen and hydrogen were disengaged with the production of much heat, and violent effervescence. The presence of water thus appearing to prevent the desired decomposition, potash, in a state of igneous fusion, was in various ways submitted to experiment; when it was evident that combustible matter of some kind, burning with a vivid light, was given off at the negative wire. After numerous trials, during the progress of which the difficulties which successively arose were as immediately combated by ingenious manipulation, a small piece of potash sufficiently moistened, by a short exposure to the air, to give its surface a conducting power, was placed on an insulated disc of platina, connected with the negative side of the battery in a state of intense activity, and a platina wire communicating with the positive side, was at the same instant brought into contact within the upper surface of the alkali.—Mark what followed!—A series of phenomena, each of which the reader will readily understand as it is announced,—for it will be in strict accordance with the laws which Davy had previously established:—the potash began to fuse at both its points of electrization: a violent effervescence commenced at the upper, or positive surface; while at the lower, or negative one, instead of any liberation of elastic matter, which would probably have happened had hydrogen been an element of the alkaline body, small globules, resembling quicksilver, appeared, some of which were no sooner formed than they burnt with explosion and bright flame.—What must have been the sensations of Davy at this moment!—He had decomposed potash, and obtained its base in a metallic form.

The gaseous matter developed, during the experiment, at the positive pole of the apparatus, he very shortly identified as oxygen. To collect, however, the metallic matter, in a quantity sufficient for a satisfactory examination, was by no means so easy; for, like the Alkahest imagined by the Alchemist, it acted more or less upon every body to which it was exposed; and such was its attraction for oxygen, that it speedily reverted to the state of alkali by recombining with it.

After various trials, however, it was found that recently distilled naphtha presented a medium in which it might be preserved and examined, since a thin transparent film of this fluid, while it defended the metal from the action of the atmosphere, did not oppose any obstacle to the investigation of its physical properties.

Thus provided, he proceeded to enquire into the nature of the new and singular body, to which he afterwards gave the name of Potassium, and which may be described as follows.

Its external character is that of a white metal, instantly tarnishing by exposure to air; at the temperature of 70° Fah. it exists in small globules, which possess the metallic lustre, opacity, and general appearance of quicksilver; so that when a globule of the latter is placed near one of the former, the eye cannot discover any difference between them: at this temperature, however, the metal is not perfectly fluid; but when gradually heated, it becomes more so,—and at 150°, its fluidity is so perfect that several globules may be easily made to run into one. By reducing its temperature, it becomes, at 50°, a soft and malleable solid, which has the lustre of polished silver, and is soft enough to be moulded like wax. At about the freezing point of water it becomes hard and brittle, and exhibits, when broken, a crystallized structure of perfect whiteness, and of high metallic splendour. It is also a perfect conductor both of electricity and heat. Thus far, then, it fulfills every condition of a metal; but an anomaly of a most startling description has now to be mentioned—the absence of a quality which has been as invariably associated with the idea of a metal, as that of lustre, viz. great specific gravity. Whence a question has arisen, whether, after all, the alkaline base can with propriety be classed under that denomination? Instead of possessing that ponderosity which we should have expected in a body otherwise metallic, it is so light as not only to swim upon the surface of water, but even upon that of naphtha, by far the lightest liquid in nature. Davy, however, very justly argues, that low specific gravity does not offer a sufficient reason for degrading this body from the rank of a metal; for amongst those which constitute the class, there are remarkable differences with respect to this quality; that platina is nearly four times as heavy as tellurium. In the philosophical division of bodies into classes, the analogy between the greater number of properties must always be the foundation of arrangement.[71]

So inseparable however, by long association, are the ideas of ponderosity and metallic splendour, that the evidence even of the senses may fail in disuniting them.[72] This is well illustrated by the following amusing anecdote. Shortly after the discovery of potassium, Dr. George Pearson happened to enter the laboratory in the Royal Institution, and upon being shown the new substance, and interrogated as to its nature, he, without the least hesitation, on seeing its lustre, exclaimed, "Why, it is metallic, to be sure," and then, balancing it on his finger, he added, in the same tone of confidence, "Bless me, how heavy it is!"

When thrown upon water, potassium instantly decomposes that fluid, and an explosion is produced with a vehement flame: an experiment which is rendered more striking if, for water, ice be substituted; in this latter case, it instantly bums with a bright rose-coloured flame, and a deep hole is made in the ice, which will afterwards be found to contain a solution of potash.

It is scarcely necessary to state, that these phenomena depend upon the very powerful affinity which the metal possesses for oxygen, enabling it even to separate it from its most subtle combinations.[73]

One of the neatest modes of showing the production of alkali, in the decomposition of water by the basis of potash, consists in dropping a globule of potassium upon moistened paper tinged with turmeric. At the moment that it comes into contact with the water, it burns and moves rapidly upon the paper, as if in search of moisture, leaving behind it a deep reddish-brown trace of its progress, and acting upon the test paper precisely as dry caustic potash.

From these observations, the reader will immediately perceive, that the decomposition of the fixed alkalies has placed in the hands of the experimentalist a new instrument of research, scarcely less energetic, or of less universal application, than the power from which the discovery emanated. Davy observes upon this point, that "it will undoubtedly prove a powerful agent for analysis, and having an affinity for oxygen, stronger than any other known substance, it may possibly supersede the application of electricity to some of the undecompounded bodies." So strong indeed is its affinity for oxygen, that it discovers and decomposes the small quantities of water contained in alcohol and ether; and in the latter case, this decomposition is connected with an instructive result. Potash is insoluble in that fluid: when therefore its base is thrown into it, oxygen is furnished, hydrogen gas disengaged, and the alkali, as it is regenerated, renders the ether white and turbid.

But perhaps the most beautiful illustration of its deoxidizing power is afforded by its action on carbonic acid gas, or fixed air: when heated in contact with that gas, it catches fire, and by uniting with its oxygen, becomes potash, while the liberated carbon is deposited in the form of charcoal.

As I have already exceeded the limits originally prescribed to myself, I shall not enter into the history of Davy's experiments on the other fixed alkali, soda, farther than to state that, when it was submitted to Voltaic action, a bright metal was obtained, similar in its general characters to potassium, but possessing sufficiently distinctive peculiarities as to volatility, fusibility, oxidability, &c. To this body Davy assigned the name of Sodium.[74]

In support of the metallic characters of these alkaline bases, it may be necessary to state that they combine with each other, and form alloys; the properties and habitudes of which are very interesting, and are fully described by their discoverer.

No sooner had these results been made known to the scientific world, than a question arose, both in this country and abroad, as to the real nature of the bodies which had been thus obtained from the fixed alkalies, and which presented an aspect so obviously metallic. At first, it was conjectured by a few, that they might be compounds of the alkali with the platina used in the experiments; but this was at once disproved by Davy having obtained the same results when pieces of copper, silver, gold, plumbago, or even charcoal, had been employed for completing the Voltaic circuit.

The effect which this and his subsequent discoveries produced, in revolutionizing the theory of Chemistry, will form an interesting subject for discussion in a future part of the present work: I shall therefore only remark in passing, that the fact of oxygen, the acknowledged principle of acidity, existing in combination with a metallic base, and imparting to it the properties of an alkali, was no sooner announced, than its truth was strenuously denied. It was an attack upon opinions sanctioned by the general suffrage of the scientific world;—it was, in fact, storming the very citadel of their philosophy: no wonder, then, that the agitator should have been assailed with a full cry for his revolutionary plans.[75] M. Curadau read a paper before the French Institute, in which he endeavoured to prove, first, that the conversion of the alkalies into metals was not a deoxidation of those bodies, but a combination of them with new elements;—secondly, that the affinity of the alkaline metals for oxygen was merely a chemical illusion, occasioned by some body the presence of which had not been suspected;—thirdly, that carbon was one of the elements of the alkaline metals, since it could be separated from them at pleasure, or converted into carbonic acid;—and fourthly, that if the specific gravities of the new substances were less than that of water, it was because hydrogen was associated with carbon in the combination.

It is scarcely necessary to state, that the presence of carbon was readily traced to sources of impurity. The hypothesis which assumed the existence of hydrogen as an element, was not so easily refuted. It was espoused by MM. Gay Lussac, Thénard, and Ritter, on the Continent, and by Mr. Dalton in England. The former derived their inference from the action of potassium upon ammonia, by which

they obtained a fusible substance that yielded by heat more hydrogen than the ammonia contained; the latter contended that potassium and sodium are proved to be hydrurets, by the very process employed for their production; for, since common potash is a hydrat, and oxygen is produced at one surface, and potassium at the other, by Voltaic action, he conceived that the former arose from the decomposition of water, and that the hydrogen must therefore unite with the potash to form potassium. It is a curious fact, that Berthollet, in the very sentence in which he insisted upon the excessive quantity of hydrogen disengaged in his experiment, as a proof that potassium must be a hydruret, should have stated that the addition of water to the residuum was necessary for obtaining his result. How could it have happened that he overlooked so obvious a source of hydrogen? Mr. Dalton, as well as Ritter, considered the low specific gravity as favouring the idea of their containing hydrogen; but Davy observes that they are less volatile than antimony, arsenic, and tellurium, and much less so than mercury. Besides, sodium absorbs much more oxygen than potassium, and, on the hypothesis of hydrogenation, must therefore contain more hydrogen; and yet though soda is said to be lighter than potash, in the proportion of thirteen to seventeen nearly, sodium is heavier than potassium, in the proportion of nine to seven at least. On the theory of Davy, this circumstance is what ought to have been expected. Potassium has a much stronger affinity for oxygen than sodium, and must condense it much more; and the resulting higher specific gravity of the combination is a necessary consequence. In this manner did Davy entangle his opponents in their own arguments, and establish, in the most triumphant manner, the truths of his original views.

Thus then was a discovery effected, and at once rendered complete, which all the chemists in Europe had vainly attempted to accomplish. The alkalies had been tortured by every variety of experiment which ingenuity could suggest, or perseverance perform, but all in vain; nor was the pursuit abandoned until indefatigable effort had wrecked the patience and exhausted every resource of the experimentalist. Such was the disheartening, and almost forlorn condition of the philosopher when Davy entered the field:—he created new instruments, new powers, and fresh resources; and Nature, thus interrogated on a different plan, at once revealed her long cherished secret.

In his Bakerian Lecture, Davy observes, that "a historical detail of the progress of the investigation of all the difficulties that occurred, and of the manner in which they were overcome, and of all the manipulations employed, would far exceed the limits assigned to a Lecture." But to the chemist, every circumstance, however minute, connected with a subject of such commanding importance, is pregnant with interest; I therefore considered it my duty to search into the archives of the Institution, in the hope that I should discover some memoranda which might supply additional information. In examining the Laboratory Register, I have so far succeeded as to obtain some rough and imperfect notes, which will, to a certain degree, assist us in analysing the intellectual operations by which his mind ultimately arrived at the grand conclusion.

It appears from this register that Davy commenced his enquiries into the composition of potash on the 16th, and obtained his great result on the 19th of October 1807.[76] His first experiments, however, evidently did not suggest the truth: he does not appear to have suspected the nature of the alkaline base until his last experiment, when the truth flashed upon him in the full blaze of discovery. His first note, dated the 16th, leads us to infer that he acted on a solid piece of potash, under the surface of alcohol, and several other liquids in which the alkali was not soluble; and that he obtained gaseous matter, which he called at the moment 'Alkaligen Gas,' and which he appears to have examined most closely, without arriving at any conclusion as to its nature. On the following day, he, for the first time, would seem to have developed potassium by electric action on potash under oil of turpentine, for the note records the fact of "the globules giving out gas by water, which gas burnt in contact with air;" and then follows a query—"Does it" (the matter of the globules) "not form gaseous compounds with ether, alcohol, and the oils?" Here, then, he evidently imagined, that the matter of the globules, which he had never obtained from potash, except when acted upon under oil of turpentine, had formed gaseous compounds with the ether, alcohol, and oils in his previous experiments, and given origin to that which he had termed 'Alkaligen Gas.'

He then leaves the consideration of this gas, and attacks the unknown globules, which probably did not present any metallic appearance under the circumstances in which he saw them, for they must have been as minute as grains of sand. I rather think that he commenced his examination by introducing a globule of mercury, and uniting it with a globule of the unknown substance, for his note says, "Action of the substance on Mercury,—forms with it a solid amalgam, which soon loses its Alkaligen in the air." And from the note which succeeds, he evidently considered this Alkaligen (potassium) volatile, as he says "it soon flies off on exposure to the air."

October 19.—It is probable that, in consequence of the property which the unknown substance displayed of amalgamating with mercury, he devised his experiment of the 19th. He took a small glass tube, about the size and shape of a thimble, into which he fused a platinum wire, and passed it through the closed end. He then put a piece of pure potash into this tube, and fused it into a mass about the wire, so as entirely to defend it from the mercury afterwards to be used. When cold, the potash was solid, but containing moisture enough to give it a conducting power; he then filled the rest of the tube with mercury, and inverted it over the trough: the apparatus being thus arranged, he made the wire and the mercury alternately positive and negative. And now, conceiving that I have sufficiently explained his brief notes, the reader shall receive the result in his own words: for this purpose I have obtained an engraving of the autograph, which is here annexed; but as it may not be very readily deciphered, I shall first give the substance of it in print.—"When potash was introduced into a tube having a platina wire attached to it—so—and fused into the tube so as to be a conductor, i. e. so as to contain just water enough, though solid, and inserted over mercury, when the platina was made negative, no gas was formed, and the mercury became oxydated, and a small quantity of the alkaligen was produced round the platina wire, as was evident from its quick inflammation by the action of water. When the mercury was made the negative, gas was developed in great quantities from the positive wire, and none from the negative mercury, and this gas proved to be pure oxygene—A Capital Experiment, Proving the Decomposition of Potash." The Reviewer of the Institution Journal well observes that those who knew Davy will best conceive the enthusiasm with which this hasty record of his success was dashed off, and will instantly recognise ευρηκα in his "Capital Experiment."

From this same Register, it appears that, in the preceding month, he was deeply engaged in experiments on 'Antwerp blue,' which he found to consist of Prussiate of Iron and Alumina, "probably in the proportion of two-thirds of the former to one-third of the latter."

On the 6th of October, we learn from the same source, that he performed a beautiful experiment, that of producing the vegetation of the carbon of the wick of a candle, by placing it between the wires of the battery.

On the 12th of the preceding September he addressed a letter to Mr. Gilbert, which is curious, as it shows that very nearly up to the time of the decomposition of the alkalies, his mind had been engaged on very different subjects.

Few notes have conveyed information of such importance to the scientific world, as that which follows, announcing, at the same time, the decomposition of the fixed alkalies, and the formation of the Geological Society, of which it would thus appear that Davy was one of the founders.

In the year 1808, MM. Gay Lussac and Thénard succeeded in decomposing potash by chemical means; for which purpose it is only necessary to heat iron turnings to whiteness in a curved gun-barrel, and then to bring melted potash slowly in contact with the turnings, air being excluded; when the iron, at that high temperature, will take the oxygen from the alkali, and the potassium may be collected in a cool part of the tube. It may likewise be produced by igniting potash with charcoal, as M. Curaudau showed in the same year.

In the following letter, Davy gives an account of his repeating the experiment of MM. Gay Lussac and Thénard; mixing together, as usual, science and angling.

It is impossible to reflect upon the chemical processes by which potassium may be obtained, without feeling surprised that the discovery should not have long before been accomplished. It is evident that the substance must have been repeatedly developed during the operations of chemistry; alkalies had been frequently heated to whiteness in contact both with iron and charcoal, and in some instances the appearance of a highly combustible body, which could have been no other than potassium, had even been observed as a result of the process, and yet no suspicion, as to its real nature, ever crossed the mind of the experimentalist; he satisfied himself with designating such a product, whenever it occurred, by the term Pyrophorus.[80] I remember the late Mr. William Gregor informing me that, in the course of his analytical experiments with potash and different metals, he had repeatedly observed a combustion on removing the crucible from the furnace, and exposing its contents, which he could never understand. How admirably do such anecdotes illustrate the remark made in the commencement of the present chapter, that truth may be often touched, but is rarely caught, in the dark!

The facility of the combustion of the bases of the alkalies, and the readiness with which they decomposed water, offered Davy the ready means for determining the proportions of their constituent parts: and in comparing all his results, he thinks that it will be a good approximation to the truth, to consider potash as composed of about six parts base and one of oxygen; and soda, as consisting of seven base and two of oxygen.

The discovery of potassium led to that of the true nature of what had been long familiar to chemists by the name of pure Potash, but which ought to have been called the hydrat, for the pure alkali was not known until after the discovery of Davy. The experiments of MM. Gay Lussac and Thénard have shown this substance to be a Protoxide. It is difficult of fusion; it has a grey colour and a vitreous fracture, and dissolves in water with much heat. The Peroxide is procured by the combustion of potassium at a low temperature; it had been observed by Davy in October 1807, but at that time he supposed it to be the oxide containing the smallest proportion of oxygen: it has a yellow colour, and when thrown into water effervesces, and gives out oxygen gas.[81] When heated very strongly upon platina, oxygen is also expelled from it, and there remains the protoxide, or pure potash.

It was a great object with Davy, to show that the product resulting from the combustion of potassium, was a pure oxide free from water; for it is evident that had potassium been a Hydruret, its combustion must have produced a Hydrat. This he accomplished by a series of experiments which he performed in the laboratory of Mr. Children, and which are published in his Bakerian Lecture of 1800.

Having discovered the presence of oxygen in the fixed alkalies, he was naturally led by analogy to enquire whether ammonia might not also contain it. It was true that the chemical composition of that body had been considered as satisfactorily settled, and that the conversion of it into hydrogen and nitrogen, in the experiments of Scheele, Priestley, and Berthollet, had left nothing farther to be accomplished. All new facts, however, are necessarily accompanied by a new train of analogies; and Davy, in perusing the accounts of the various experiments to which ammonia had been submitted, tells us that he saw no reason for considering the presence of oxygen as impossible; for, supposing hydrogen and nitrogen to exist in combination with oxygen in low proportion, this latter principle might easily disappear in the analytical experiments by heat and electricity, in the form of water deposited upon the vessels employed, or dissolved in the gases produced.

Under this impression, he commenced a series of experiments by which, he says, he soon became satisfied of the existence of oxygen in the volatile alkali. By means of the Voltaic battery, he ignited perfectly dry charcoal in a small quantity of pure ammoniacal gas, and he produced carbonate of ammonia; which could not have happened, had not oxygen been furnished by the volatile alkali to the carbon. In the next place, by an ingenious arrangement of apparatus, he submitted ammonia to a high temperature, and effected its decomposition, when a quantity of water appeared as one of the products. It will be useless to enter into farther details upon this occasion, as we shall presently perceive the subject assumed a different aspect, and led the experimentalist into a new line of enquiry.

At the conclusion of his Bakerian Lecture of 1807, he speaks of the probable composition of the earths, and considers it reasonable to expect that they are compounds of a similar nature to the fixed alkalies—"peculiar highly combustible metallic bases united to oxygen;"—but, as yet, this theory was sanctioned only by strong analogies; it was his good fortune, at a subsequent period, to support it by conclusive facts.

When the importance and novelty of the results he obtained from the fixed alkalies, and their influence upon the reigning theories, are duly considered, it may be easily imagined how intense was the curiosity to witness the production of the new metals, to examine their singular qualities, and to question the illustrious discoverer upon their nature and relations. Suppose it were publicly announced that one of the greatest Astronomers of the day had invented a telescope of new and extraordinary powers; and that by its means a hitherto unsuspected system of heavenly bodies might be seen, the character and motions of which were wholly inconsistent with the Newtonian theory of the universe. The surprise and eager curiosity which such an announcement would create might possibly be more general, because a knowledge of Astronomy is more widely diffused than that of Chemistry; but the sensation would not be more intense than that which the discovery of potassium produced. The laboratory of the Institution was crowded with persons of every rank and description; and Davy, as may be readily supposed, was kept in a continued state of excitement throughout the day. This circumstance, co-operating with the effects of the fatigue he had previously undergone, produced a most severe fit of illness, which for a time caused an awful pause in his researches, broke the thread of his pursuits, and turned his reflections into different channels.

He always laboured under the impression that the fever had been occasioned by contagion, to which he had been exposed in one of the jails during an experiment for fumigating it. This impression appears to have continued through life, for in his "Last Days" he alludes to it in terms of strong conviction.

Other persons referred his illness to the deleterious fumes, especially those of Baryta, to which his experiments had exposed him: an opinion recorded in an Epigram,[82] which was circulated amongst the members of the Institution after his recovery.

Upon conversing, however, with Dr. Babington, who, with Dr. Frank, attended Davy throughout this illness, he assured me that there was not the slightest ground for either of these opinions; that the fever was evidently the effect of fatigue and an over-excited brain. The reader will not feel much hesitation in believing this statement, when he is made acquainted with the habits of Davy at this period. His intellectual exertions were of the most injurious kind, and yet, unlike the philosophers of old, he sought not to fortify himself by habits of temperance. Should any of my readers propose to me the same question respecting Davy, as Fontenelle tells us was put to an Englishman in Paris, by a scientific Marquis, with regard to Newton,—whether he ate, drank, and slept like other people?—I certainly should be bound to answer in the negative.

Such was his great celebrity at this period of his career, that persons of the highest rank contended for the honour of his company at dinner, and he did not possess sufficient resolution to resist the gratification thus afforded, although it generally happened that his pursuits in the laboratory were not suspended until the appointed dinner-hour had passed. On his return in the evening, he resumed his chemical labours, and commonly continued them till three or four o'clock in the morning; and yet the servants of the establishment not unfrequently found that he had risen before them. The greatest of all his wants was Time, and the expedients by which he economised it often placed him in very ridiculous positions, and gave rise to habits of the most eccentric description: driven to an extremity, he would in his haste put on fresh linen, without removing that which was underneath; and, singular as the fact may appear, he has been known, after the fashion of the grave-digger in Hamlet, to wear no less than five shirts, and as many pair of stockings, at the same time. Exclamations of surprise very frequently escaped from his friends at the rapid manner in which he increased and declined in corpulence.

At the commencement of his severe illness in November 1807, he was immediately attended by Dr. Babington and Dr. Frank; and upon its assuming a more serious aspect, these gentlemen were assisted by Dr. Baillie. Such was the alarming state of the patient, that for many weeks his physicians regularly visited him four times in the day, and issued bulletins for the information of the numerous enquirers who anxiously crowded the hall of the Institution. His kind and amiable qualities had secured the attachment of all the officers and servants of the establishment, and they eagerly anticipated every want his situation might require. The housekeeper, Mrs. Greenwood, watched over him with all the care and solicitude of a parent; and, with the exception of a single night, never retired to her bed for the period of eleven weeks. In the latter stage of his illness, he was reduced to the extreme of weakness, and his mind participated in the debility of the body. It may not perhaps be thought philosophical to deduce any inference, as to character, from traits which are displayed under such circumstances: I have little doubt, however, but that the mind, like inorganic matter, will, in its decay, frequently develope important elements, which under other conditions were not distinguishable. Suppose pride and timidity to exist as qualities in the same mind, the former might so far predominate as to enable its possessor to face the cannon's mouth; but diminish its force by moral or physical agency, the natural timidity will gain the ascendency, and the hero be converted into a coward. Such are my reasons for introducing the following anecdote: I would not give to it a greater value than it deserves, but it surely demonstrates the existence of kindly affections. Youthful reminiscences, and circumstances connected with his family and friends, were the only objects which, at this period, occupied his thoughts, and afforded him any pleasure. No Swiss peasant ever sighed more deeply for his native mountains, than did Davy for the scenes of his early years. He entreated his nurse to convey to his friends his ardent wish to obtain some apples from a particular tree which he had planted when a boy; and, unlike Locke with his cherries, he had no power of controlling the desire by his reason, but remained in a state of restlessness and impatience until their arrival: at the same time, he expressed a wish to obtain several other objects, especially an ancient tea-pot, endeared to him by early associations.

The following Minute appears on the Journals of the Institution:—

"December 7, 1807.—Mr. Davy having been confined to his bed for the last fortnight by a severe illness, the Managers are under the painful necessity of giving notice, that the Lectures will not commence until the first week in January next."

The Course was, at the time stated, opened by the Reverend Mr. (now Dr.) Dibdin; and his introductory lecture was, by order of the Managers, printed "for the satisfaction of those proprietors who were not present." It thus commences:—"Before I solicit your attention to the opening of those Lectures which I shall have the honour of delivering in the course of the season, permit me to trespass upon it for a few minutes, by stating the peculiar circumstances under which this Institution is again opened; and how it comes to pass that it has fallen to me, rather than to a more deserving lecturer, to be the first to address you.

"The Managers have requested me to impart to you that intelligence, which no one who is alive to the best feelings of human nature can hear without mixed emotions of sorrow and delight.

"Mr. Davy, whose frequent and powerful addresses from this place, supported by his ingenious experiments, have been so long and so well known to you, has for these last five weeks been struggling between life and death;—the effects of those experiments recently made in illustration of his splendid discoveries, added to consequent bodily weakness, brought on a fever so violent as to threaten the extinction of life. Over him, it might emphatically be said, in the language of our immortal Milton, that