Sir Humphry returned to England in 1820, and in the same year his respected friend, Sir Joseph Banks, President of the Royal Society, died. Several discussions took place respecting a proper successor, when individuals of high and even very exalted rank were named as candidates. But science, very properly in this case, superseded rank. Amongst the philosophers whose labors had enriched the Transactions of the Royal Society, two were most generally adverted to, Sir Humphry Davy and Dr. Wollaston; but Dr. Wollaston very modestly declined being a candidate after his friend had been nominated, and received from the council of the Society the unanimous compliment of being placed in the chair of the Royal Society, till the election by the body in November. A trifling opposition was made to Sir Humphry Davy's election, by some unknown persons, who proposed Lord Colchester, but Sir Humphry was placed in the chair by a majority of 200 to 13. For this honor no one could be more completely qualified. Sir Humphry retained his seat as President till the year 1827, when, in consequence of procrastinated ill health, in great measure brought on by injuries occasioned to his constitution by scientific experiments, he was induced, by medical advice, to retire to the continent. He accordingly resigned his seat as President of the Royal Society, the chair being filled, pro tem. by Davies Gilbert, Esq. who, at the Anniversary Meeting, Nov. 30, 1827, was unanimously elected President.

Since his retirement, Sir Humphry Davy resided principally at Rome, where a short time ago he had an alarming attack of a paralytic nature, but from which he was apparently, though slowly, recovering. Lady Davy, who had been detained in England by her own ill health, joined Sir Humphry, at Rome, on hearing of his

by easy stages to Geneva, without feeling any particular inconvenience, and without any circumstances which denoted the approach of dissolution : but on Friday, May 29, 1829, the illustrious philosopher closed his mortal career, in the fifty-first year of his age, having only reached Geneva on the day previous. "Lady Davy had the gratification of contributing, by her soothing care, to the comfort of his last days during their stay in Italy, and on their journey to Geneva, where they intended to pass the summer, and hoped to have derived benefit from the eminent practitioners of that city. Sir Humphry had also been joined by his brother, Dr. John Davy, physician to the forces in Malta, whence he came on receiving the intelligence of his brother's danger. But all human art and skill were of no avail. The last and fatal attack took place at half-past two on Friday morning, and the pulse ceased to beat shortly after. The event was no sooner known, than the afflicted widow received the condolence and affectionate offer of services from the most distinguished individuals of Geneva; amongst whom we must mention M. A. de Condolle, the eminent botanist, and M. Sismondi, the historian, both equally beloved for their amiable character, as illustrious throughout Europe for their works. The members of the Academy, in the absence of any relation of the deceased, took their place in the funeral procession; and the invitations to the syndicate, and to the learned bodies who accompanied it, were made by that body in the same character. The whole was conducted with much appropriate order and decency, and whilst every attention and respect were paid to the memory of the deceased, nothing was attempted beyond the unostentatious simplicity which the deceased had frequently declared to be his wish, whenever his mortal remains should be consigned to their last home; and which in accordance to that wish, had been expressly enjoined to her kind

friends by the afflicted widow. In the procession, which followed the corporate bodies and the countrymen of the deceased, were many of the most eminent manufacturers of Geneva, and a large body of mechanics, who were anxious to pay this tribute of regard and gratitude to one whom they deservedly looked upon as a great benefactor to the arts, and promoter of sciences, by the application of which they earn their livelihood."

During his retirement on the Continent, Sir Humphry continued to communicate the splendid results of his labors to the Royal Society, and at the anniversary meeting of the year 1827, the royal medal was awarded to him for a series of brilliant discoveries developing the relation between electricity and chemistry.*

The course of Sir Humphry Davy to the highest rank as a chemical philosopher, was, after his appointment at the Royal Institution, rapid and brilliant; and if he was previously aided by as few of the advantages of fortune as any man living, he had then at his disposal whatever his industry and talents chose to command. We have given but a hasty outline of his labors; but it is possible that he may have left behind him much, not yet made public, for which science will be still further indebted to him. His

works, papers and letters, are numerous, and the greatest portion of them are contained in the Transactions of the Royal Society. One of the most popular and interesting of his recent papers is that on the Phenomena of Volcanoes. This contains a series of investigations of Vesuvius, made by the author during a residence at Naples in 1819-20, and bearing upon a previous hypothesis, "that metals of the alkalies and earth might exist in the interior of the globe, and on being

exposed to the action of air and water, give rise to volcanic fires, and to the production of lavas, by the slow cooling of which basaltic and other crystalline rocks might subsequently be formed."

We have hitherto spoken of Sir Humphry Davy as a philosopher. He was, however, in every respect, an accomplished scholar, and was well acquainted with foreign languages. He always retained a strong taste for literary pleasures; and when his continued illness retarded his scientific pursuits, he made literature his recreation. In this manner he wrote Salmonia: or Days of Fly-fishing, in a series of conversations. We gather from the Preface, that "These pages formed the occupation of the author during several months of severe and dangerous illness, when he was wholly incapable of attending to more useful studies, or of following more serious pursuits. They formed his amusement in many hours, which otherwise would have been unoccupied and tedious." "The conversational and discursive style was chosen as best suited to the state of the health of the author, who was incapable of considerable efforts and long-continued exertion." The volume is dedicated to Dr. Babington, "in remembrance of some delightful days passed in his society, and in gratitude for an uninterrupted friendship of quarter of a century;" and the likeness of one of the characters in the conversations to this estimable physician, has been considered well drawn, and easily recognisable by those who enjoy his acquaintance.

The philosophical works of Sir Humphry Davy are written in a clear and perspicuous style, by which means he has contributed more to the diffusion of scientific knowledge than any other writer of his time. His three

54 ATHENEUM, VOL. 2, 3d series.

principal works, "Chemical and Philosophical Researches," "Elements of Chemical Philosophy," and "Elements of Agricultural Chemistry," are in a popular and familiar style, and the two last are excellently adapted for elementary study. His numerous pamphlets and contributions to the Transactions of the Royal Society have the same rare merit of conveying experimental knowledge in the most attractive form, and thus reducing abstract theory to the practice and purposes of life and society. The results of his investigations and experiments were not therefore pent up in the laboratory or lecture-room where they were made, but by this valuable mode of communication they have realized what ought to be the highest aim of science, the improvement of the condition and comforts of every class of his fellow-creatures. Thus, beautiful theories were illustrated by inventions of immediate utility, as in the safetylamp for mitigating the dangers to which miners are exposed in their labors, and the application of a newlydiscovered principle in preserving the life of the adventurous mariner. Yet splendid as were Sir Humphry's talents, and important as have been their application, he received the honors, and homage of the scientific world with that becoming modesty which universally characterizes great genius.

Apart from the scientific value of Sir Humphry's labors and researches, they are pervaded by a tone and temper, and an enthusiastic love of nature, which are as admirably expressed as their influence is excellent. In proof of this feeling we could, almost from memory, quote many passages from his works. Thus, speaking of the divine Study of Nature, he has the following reflective truths :-If we look with wonder upon the great remains of human works, such as the columns of Palmyra, broken in the midst of the desart, 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 feelings 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 the graves of past generations-the marble or rocky tomb, 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!" Here we cannot trace any co-mixture of science and scepticism, and in vain shall we look for the spawn of infidel doctrine. The same excellent feeling breathes throughout Salmonia, one of the most delightful labors of leisure we have ever seen. Not a few of the most beautiful phenomena of Nature are here lucidly explained, yet the pages have none of the varnish of philosophical unbelief or finite reasoning. "In my opinion," says one of the characters in the Dialogue, (to be identified as the author,)" profound minds are the most likely to think lightly of the resources of human reason; and it is the pert superficial thinker who is generally strongest in every kind of unbelief. The deep philosopher sees changes 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 thundercloud by a metallic point, the production of fire from ice by a metal white as silver, and referring certain laws of motions of the sea to the moon,-that the physical inquirer

is seldom disposed to assert, confident ly, 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."

Many other passages in Salmonia gush forth with great force and beauty, and sometimes soar into sublime truths. Thus says the eloquent author :—

"A full and clear river is, in my opinion, the most poetical object in nature. 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."

It is cheering, though not surprising, to find a man of Sir Humphry

Davy's high intellectual endowments and scientific acquirements, giving expression to such feelings as are exhibited in the following sentence, which also occurs in Salmonia.

"I envy no quality of the mind or intellect in others; not 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!"

Few of those whose fame and fortune are their own creation, enjoy, as did Sir Humphry Davy, in the meridian of life, the enviable consciousness of general esteem and respect, and the certainty of a distinguished place in history, among the illustrious names of their country. "A great light has gone out,"-short but brilliant has been his career; yet let us hope he has but exchanged his earthly fame for unearthly immortality, to shine amidst. the never-dying lights of true glory.

O COME, my Love! O come away,
While yet the months are full of May!
Come to my cot, prepared to be
The home of Happiness and Thee!
It stands down in a grassy nook,
Fast by a silver-sliding brook ;
Fresh is the stream and sweet the air-
O Mistress mine, that thou wert there!

Till Summer's scorchéd flag be furled,
Come, and forget the dusty world!

Let us to Solitude be gone,
And live for love, and love alone!
To hail thy steps the forests sheen
Stand ready dight in golden green;
If thou wilt come, their livery
Shall yet more rich embroider'd be!
For thee, for thee, my dusky bowers
Shall gem their brown robes thick with
flowers,

And dancing gently where they stand,
Offer bright chaplets to thy hand!

Their blooming queens the dewy meads
Shall crown with pearl and diamond beads;
Whilst, to receive thee, every one
Puts her most gorgeous kirtle on!

For thee, the flower-enamor'd thing,
Minstrel and merchant! home shall bring
Sweet store; and then with gossip hum
Buzz round the fields that thou art come !

Mounting by viewless steps the skies
On jocund wing the lark shall rise,
And tell thy beauties o'er and o'er,
Till Heaven peep through its golden door!

As sweet in her sequester'd grove
The wood-quest shall proclaim my love,

Deepening her fond voice as she tells Her story to the inmost dells.

Seated on his rain-dropping thorn,
The blackbird shall let by the Morn;
But when he 'gins his Evening tale,
Fill with thy name the happy vale!

The murmuring, hasty-footed rill
Shall totter headlong down the hill,
And crush its rolling pearls to foam,
Babbling of nought but "Welcome home!"

And O, myself, when thou shalt deign
Here to begin thy sylvan reign,
Will kneel, heart-happy, at thy feet,
And weep for simple joy of it!

* My path wound along the side of Lough Dan, emerging at length from which, and avoiding as much as possible anything resembling a road, I voluntarily suffered myself to lose my way among the wild upland, boggy moors which surround the Devil's Glen. "The sky is changed-and such a change-Oh! Night."-One of the most sudden and violent storms of rain and thunder I ever remember, surprised me about an hour after sunset, when hugging myself with the thoughts of a beautiful moonlight night after a shower, which, "good easy man," I thought would clear the air and moderate the tropical heat of the weather. It was a grand sight, that thunderstorm; and, though attended at the time with not a little danger, I still look back upon it with a feeling of awe, as realizing some of my wild reveries and day-dreams about chaos, and the war of the angels, and the deluge.

The sun went down amidst a sea of fiery-looking clouds, while a fresh breeze springing up unexpectedly from the north-east, came sweeping over the waste of moor and bog, driving before it a dark grey gigantic mass, more like a chain of uprooted mountains travelling through the air, than an assemblage of unsubstantial vapor. When right over head, the canopy of clouds settled and paused, the breeze lulled, then died away in faint irregu

lar moanings, until all was as still as if Nature herself was holding her breath for awe. Then the clouds opened like the rending of a veil, giving to view, not a flash, or a sheet of lightning, but something like a mighty conflagration of blasting, supernatural light, accompanied, not followed, by a crash as if ten millions of angelic chariots were chasing the ruined host of Lucifer from the uttermost verge of heaven into the bottomless abysm of the damned. The blackness that followed the roar of the thunder was so sudden and startling that for an instant I thought I was struck blind for my daring hardihood, in looking with a bold and over-curious eye at the awful and dangerous mysteries of elemental strife; but again the clouds rolled back like mighty gates, again the lightning sprang forth, and the thunder pealed, and then, down, through the pitchy darkness, came a flood, a cataract, a Niagara of rain, such as never since the days of Noah deluged an unfortunate bog-trotter like myself. I plunged and floundered through the solid sheet of water, until I got to an elevated situation, and there I sate down upon a rock, for as for proceeding until the rain lightened, the thing was out of the question.

I suppose about two hours passed in this agreeable situation; at length, as if more from want of means than inclination, the torrent abated; and,