Part 16

But neither Mr. Coryton, nor Dr. Cardew, the excellent master of the Truro Grammar School, to which place Davy was for a short period removed, when fourteen years old, seems to have perceived any remarkable genius in the scholar--except that the latter discerned at least his taste and skill in poetry, and in his translations from the classics into English verse. One of the efforts of his muse was an epic poem, 'The Tydidiad,' written when he was twelve years old. In truth Davy, when a schoolboy, was generally composing either ballads or valentines (in Latin or English) for his school-fellows, in making fireworks, or in fishing or shooting, thus proving--what has been so often proved before--that 'the boy is father to the man.' His oratorical displays--sometimes addressed to a crowd of juveniles assembled in front of the Star Inn at Penzance, sometimes to a row of empty chairs in his own bedroom--and his turnip-lantern exhibitions (which afterwards developed into the wonderful mimic volcanoes with which he astonished and delighted his audience at the Royal Institution) were highly popular; the price of admission to the turnip-lantern shows is said to have been paid in an extremely low currency--pins. It would moreover appear from an entry of his in the blank page of his Schrevelius that Harlequin was his favourite part in a pantomime. Of his youth, which all accounts agree in representing as genial and amiable, little more remains to be said, but that he was very awkward with his hands (often blotting out an error in his MS. by dipping his fingers into the ink-bottle)--could never get out of the 'awkward squad' in the Volunteer Corps which he joined--that he was round-shouldered and clumsy--had no taste or ear for music, and possessed a singularly inharmonious voice. Clearly, the outward gifts of our hero were not such as were likely to help him forward on his way through life. To judge what a change the fire of genius, years of study, and the advantages of moving amongst cultured and refined society can accomplish, his portrait, when he was about thirty-three years old, by Lawrence,[103] prefixed to Dr. Paris's 'Life'--or perhaps rather that by Phillips, R.A., which will be found in Polwhele's now rare little volumes the 'Biographical Sketches,' and in the 'Gentleman's Magazine' for 1829, should be examined.

As he grew up he is described as being of about the middle height, of remarkably active frame, and with a mobile countenance, which, though the features were not regular, was full of expression and vivacity. He had bright, wavy, brown hair, and eyes 'tremulous with light;' and his voice so improved by cultivation and experience that it became remarkably melodious. When to this are added his wonderful talents, his grand discoveries, and his eloquence, his sanguine temperament, his purpose firm, his spirits singularly cheerful and elastic, and his disposition ever philanthropic, it will easily be believed that his society was sought by all classes; and it is not to be wondered at if the attractions which such opportunities presented laid him open to the charge (from some quarters) of cultivating too much the wealthy and the powerful.[104] Davy, however, was too wise not to perceive the advantage of interesting such persons in the pursuits to which he was himself through life devoted. But he was really fond of intelligence in all classes, whenever and wherever he met with it; and there is an amusing story told of one of his street acquaintances, who showed the moon through a telescope, and who always refused to take Davy's penny, because, as the man said, of their being 'brother philosophers.'

But, to return to his youthful days. Davy's schooling probably did not cost his parents much, for in Dr. Cardew's time the charges were only £18 a year for board, and £4 for teaching, and perhaps some of these were paid by a very kind friend of the family, Mr. John Tonkin of Penzance. He 'put on harness' in 1793, when little more than fourteen years old (the year before his father died), by being articled on 16th February, to Dr. J. B. Borlase of Penzance, a gentleman who seems to have taken a kind and appreciative interest in the welfare of the lad.

Davy seems to have bestowed a fair amount of attention upon the studies pertaining to his profession, and is said to have been particularly kind and attentive to his master's patients, especially those of the poorer classes; but 'nourishing a youth sublime' on the preparation of pills and potions was out of the question; and we gladly find that, ere long, a more intellectual banquet was to be laid before him. He was at this time passionately fond of fishing and shooting, the former of which pursuits he dearly loved to the last: casting longing looks, even within a few days of his death, on the waters of Lake Leman on which he had often in earlier days thrown a fly. His charming book 'Salmonia' (_pace_ the shade of Christopher North) shows what a deep interest he always took in fishing, and, indeed, in Natural History generally. It is amusing to note here, that in later years his costume, hat included, when he went fishing, was, for purposes of concealment, _green_; when, however, he went shooting he adopted scarlet garments for distinction, having a great dread of being shot. Declamations by the shores of Mount's Bay were also a source of great pleasure to him, when a boy, and many a time did he harangue the waves, when he could not secure a human auditory.

We may be sure that chemistry was not omitted; and, in the attic of a house belonging to that worthy friend of the family--Mr. Tonkin--such apparatus as Davy could muster might have been found: phials, wine-glasses, teacups, and tobacco-pipes, and a few acids and alkalies were amongst the principal items, and--most treasured of all--an old clyster-pipe, washed ashore from a wreck, out of which he had contrived to manufacture an air-pump!

The crisis of Davy's life at length arrived. Mr. Davies Gilbert (then named Giddy) a Cornish gentleman eminent for his attainments, had his attention called to the youngster's scientific knowledge, and became his friend and patron--little thinking at the time that he was hereafter to become Treasurer of the Royal Society under Davy, and at length to succeed his _protégé_ as a President. It is noteworthy here--that Trelissick House, on the Fal, built by Davy's grandfather, for Mr. Daniell, became afterwards the property of Mr. Gilbert, and is now one of the seats of his grandson, Carew Davies Gilbert, Esq. Davies Gilbert also brought into public notice the Rev. Malachi Hitchins, once a miner, afterwards the principal calculator of the Nautical Almanac, and (conjointly with Samuel Drew) an historian of Cornwall; also the Rev. John Hellins, many years assistant to Dr. Maskelyne. He was moreover an early friend and adviser of Richard Trevithick (_q.v._).

It is said that when the boy Davy first saw Mr. Davies Gilbert's laboratory his tumultuous delight knew no bounds. Other appreciative friends now came forward; amongst them Dr. Edwards of Hayle Copper House, and Professor Hailstone, and Dr. Beddoes, representatives of the rival geological schools of Neptunists and Plutonists, as they were then called, to both of whom Davy was able to render valuable information; though he himself, with his usual sagacity, sided with the Plutonists. Gregory Watt, the youngest son of the renowned James Watt, was another of Davy's early acquaintances at Penzance; and from Watt the youth derived much valuable information and advice.

One result was the offer of an appointment, when he was about nineteen years old, as assistant in Dr. Beddoes's Pneumatic Hospital, at Dowry Square, Clifton,[105]--an establishment founded for the purpose of investigating the nature of the gases, with especial reference to their remedial influences.

This was an appointment after the young chemist's own heart. The salary was sufficient for his modest wants, and he forthwith renounced all claims to his share of the small family property, in favour of his mother and sisters. He threw himself at once with ardour into his work, and originated those celebrated but highly dangerous experiments on the effects of nitrous oxide, which indeed nearly cost him his own life, but which in their result have alleviated the sufferings of tens of thousands of his fellow-creatures. The description of one of the 'séances,' when experiments were tried on many different persons--including Southey, then Poet Laureate--were described by Davy in an amusing little poem.

The friendship with Southey was not only on a scientific basis;--the Poet recognised his brother-poet's faculty: and accordingly Southey submitted to Davy the proofs of his mystic poem 'Thalaba,' for criticism; whilst the younger bard contributed to the 'Anthology' of the elder. And while on this subject it may be added that Coleridge (another of his Clifton acquaintances), who often referred to Davy's enchanting manners, used to say, so Barrow tells us, that he was in the habit of attending Davy's lectures at the Royal Institution, 'in order to increase his stock of metaphors.' On another occasion Coleridge remarked: 'There is an energy and elasticity in Davy's mind which enables him to seize on and analyze all questions, pushing them to their legitimate consequences. Every subject in Davy's mind has the principle of vitality--living thoughts spring up, like the turf under his feet.' And Davy, of course, could not fail to admire the genius of Coleridge--it was he who persuaded the dreamy poet to give his well-known series of eighteen lectures on Shakespeare at the Royal Institution in 1808. Horne Tooke was another of Davy's admirers, and was so enchanted with him early in his career that he engaged Chantry to make a bust of the Cornish philosopher.

It is further evident that Southey had the highest possible opinion of Davy's talents, for he wrote thus to Taylor:

'Davy is proceeding in his chemical career with the same giant strides as at his outset. His book upon the nitrous oxyd will form an epoch in the science. I never witnessed such indefatigable activity in any other man, nor ardour so regulated by cool judgment.'

In fact our poet-chemist must have been altogether a most fascinating man. An old personal acquaintance of his writes in the 'Gentleman's Magazine,' 1845, that 'when Davy is at ease, and excited in conversation, his splendid eyes irradiate his whole countenance, and he looks almost inspired.' But perhaps the best analysis of Davy's powers is that given in _Good Words_ for 1879, by Professor Ferguson, who has also written by far the most generally interesting account of the great chemist's discoveries:

'Davy's mind,' he says, 'presents so many characteristics, that one cannot help thinking of it when perusing the narrative of his life and discoveries. It is that of the highest type of experimentalists. There is never any straining after either facts or laws. If there was a practical problem to solve, there was an instinctive perception required of the means to be employed. He asked his questions; Nature replied gently, kindly. How could she keep silent when the being she had made to learn from her inquired? There was never anything superfluous, for he always saw the aim of the replies no less than of the questions, and knew what to do next.

'Was it a question in science? the same instinct guided him to the means. The intensest perception of real analogies led either to the discovery of new bodies, and to the unravelling of obscure and perplexed phenomena, or to the enunciation of views of general action, which are only now adopted in all their extent and recognised as true. It was thus that he declared against the oxygen theory of acids--that he was never a devoted convert to Dalton's atomic views--and that he was so thoroughly a dynamician in a science which is still almost entirely statical. The laboratory, rather than the study, was the scene of his triumphs; it was there where his strength lay. No phenomenon was too minute to escape him; no consequence too improbable not to be brought into connection with the premises; no law too wide to be grasped in its known entirety. In all his work, in all his thinking, there is a magnificence, an ever-burning light which makes us lift up the head and gaze with purified vision upon the world, and a wild freshness, a provocative thought which, while we recur to it again and again, and are never sent away empty, are no less proofs of this man's vivid and enduring individuality.'

Davy's note-books now became rapidly filled with the Results of his studies, with Reflexions, with Resolutions, and with the most ambitious prospectuses of his future labours. Dr. Davy gives, in his 'Life' of his brother, an interesting specimen, written in 1799, when Davy had taken a house in Dowry Square, Clifton. Two hours before breakfast were to be devoted to his 'Lover of Nature,' or the 'Feelings of Eldon'--the five hours from nine to two to experiments--the time from four to six was to be spent in reading, and from seven to ten p.m. in the study of metaphysics. So passed the time away at Clifton, amidst the most congenial pursuits, thoroughly sympathetic friends, and in the enjoyment of an income which, modest as it was, enabled him to assist his mother in the education of his younger brother. But for one thing he bargained--John was _not_ to be placed under Mr. Coryton.

Clifton, however, ere long became too small a sphere for Davy; and in 1801 an appointment as Assistant Editor of the Journals, Director of the Laboratory, and Assistant Lecturer (with a view to his ultimately becoming the Professor of Chemistry) to the then newly-founded Royal Institution, in London, was joyfully accepted; his salary being fixed at 100 guineas a year, with a room, and coals, and candles. The Duchess of Gordon, amongst other leaders of fashion, attracted by his youth and simplicity, as well as by his enthusiasm and eloquence, took him by the hand; and his success became assured. Compliments, invitations, and presents, Dr. Paris tells us, were showered upon him from all quarters; his society was courted by everybody, and all were proud of his acquaintance. In 1802 he commenced a long series of lectures before the Board of Agriculture, on the connexion of Chemistry with Vegetable Physiology, which have been translated into almost every European language: in fact, Sir Humphry has been well named the father of Agricultural Chemistry.[106] In 1803 he obtained the enviable distinction of being elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, and two years afterwards, having become a Member of the Royal Irish Academy, he found himself a correspondent of all the chief scientific men of the day.

Davy's _début_ as a lecturer at the Royal Institution appears to have been highly successful; 'the sparkling intelligence of his eye,[107] his animated manner,' according to one critic, and 'his youth, his natural eloquence, his chemical knowledge, his happy illustrations, and well-conducted experiments, excited universal attention and unbounded applause.' It has been well said that 'under his touch the coldest realities blossomed into poetry.' But the real secret of his success was this--that he was master of his subject; and that his whole heart was in his work. His mode of life, his brother tells us, was at this time extremely simple, his fare frugal, his rooms slightly furnished, and the only 'thing of beauty' which they contained was an exquisite little porcelain Venus, the gift of his early friend Wedgwood, with whom he was associated in some of the very first attempts made in this country in the art of photography.

In 1806 and 1807 he was selected to deliver the Bakerian Lecture (the subject chosen being the 'Chemical Agencies of Electricity')--an honourable distinction--leading, as it probably did, to his promotion in the latter year to the posts of Secretary to the Royal Society, and Member of the Council. Of this paper Dr. Whewell said, 'It was a great event--perhaps the most important event of the epoch under review,' and as such 'it was recognised at once all over Europe.' Probably no man's life was happier than Davy's at this period; his income was ample, his work was his pleasure, and his disposition was happy and sanguine. Whilst holding constant and friendly intercourse with his brother philosophers at home and abroad,[108] he had also plenty of time for relaxation; and made several pleasant excursions to Scotland[109] and Ireland; everywhere sketching, making notes, fishing, or pursuing his inquiries amongst the natives with a vivid pertinacity and good-nature which at once astonished and delighted them. His brother (who used occasionally to occupy an adjoining bedroom at the Royal Institution) tells how Humphry might frequently have been heard during the night addressing in fervid tones some imaginary audience, or humming aloud an angler's song. Indeed, it might almost be said that during this period one cloud only darkened his horizon. He was seized with typhus fever, caught during an inspection of Newgate Prison, which he visited with a view to arranging for its disinfection; but, as Dr. Dibdin remarked in his introductory lecture to the Institution:

'---- Death his dart Shook, but delayed to strike.'

During Davy's visits to Ireland in 1810 and 1811 he lectured before the Dublin Society, and whilst in the Irish metropolis had conferred upon him by Trinity College the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws. During the first week 550 tickets for his lectures were sold at 2 guineas each, and the price ultimately rose to from 10 to 20 guineas. His own pecuniary remuneration was also handsome; in the former year he received 500 guineas, and in the latter £750.

The result of his researches during the eleven years whilst he was officially connected with the Royal Institution may, Dr. Davy thinks, be conveniently divided into two portions, viz., the _earlier one_, terminating with his great discovery of the decomposition and recomposition of the fixed alkalies, by the aid of an enormously powerful voltaic pile which he had specially constructed for him, and the cost of which was defrayed by subscription--the reward of his triumphant and all-important electro-chemical researches; and the _later period_, which re-established the simple nature of chlorine. His views on these subjects were adopted by all the leading chemists of the age; and, with few exceptions, were after a short time promulgated in the schools. To the theory of tanning he also gave much attention, experimentally wearing for some time one shoe tanned with oak bark, and the other with catechu. He published the results of his inquiries in the 'Philosophical Transactions' for 1803.

It is not uninteresting here to note that Davy, on becoming connected with the Royal Society, did not entirely relinquish his intentions of prosecuting--what might probably have been a more lucrative career--his original profession of medicine. But not even such a prospect--nor even that of an illustrious career in the Church--(to which it is said the Bishop of Durham and others, charmed by his eloquence as a lecturer, urged him)--could draw away his affection from science. And he was not without his reward; for he had the satisfaction of reading in Cuvier's address to the French Institute, whose members were of course rival scientists, that--'Davy, not yet thirty-two, in the opinion of all who could judge of his labours, held the first rank among the chemists of this or of any other age.'

The month of April, 1812, was an eventful one in Davy's life. It saw his retirement from the post of Secretary to the Royal Society; it saw him receive the honour of Knighthood, then rarely bestowed upon men of science;[110] and last, but not least, it saw him married to Mrs. Apreece, whose maiden name was Jane Kerr (of Kelso), a wealthy, amiable, and intellectual widow, to whom he appears to have been devotedly attached: he described her, in a letter to his mother, announcing the intended marriage, as 'a woman equally distinguished for virtues, talents, and accomplishments;' and to his brother as 'the most amiable and intellectual woman I have ever known.' To this tribute to her worth it may be added that, when Scott went on his tour to the Hebrides, his 'dear friend and distant relation,' Mrs. Apreece (afterwards Lady Davy), went with the family party: she had been, Scott says in one of his letters, 'a lioness of the first magnitude in Edinburgh' during the preceding winter. And when writing to Byron, inviting him to Abbotsford, Sir Walter mentions as one of the visitors who made his home attractive: 'The fair, or shall I say the sage, Apreece that was, Lady Davy that is, who is soon to show us how much science she leads captive in Sir Humphry.'

But there are 'cabinet' portraits of the lady and her husband in 'The Life of George Ticknor' (p. 57, vol. i.) which may be introduced here.

'_1815, June 13._--I breakfasted this morning with Sir H. Davy, of whom we have heard so much in America. He is now about thirty-three, but with all the freshness and bloom of twenty-five, and one of the handsomest men I have seen in England. He has a great deal of vivacity--talks rapidly, though with great precision--and is so much interested in conversation that his excitement amounts to nervous impatience, and keeps him in constant motion. He has just returned from Italy, and delights to talk of it; thinks it, next to England, the finest country in the world, and the society of Rome surpassed only by that of London, and says he should not die contented without going there again.

'It seemed singular that his taste in this should be so acute, when his professional eminence is in a province so different and remote; but I was much more surprised when I found that the first chemist of his time was a professed angler; and that he thinks, if he were obliged to renounce either fishing or philosophy, that he should find the struggle of his choice pretty severe.

'_15 June._--As her husband had invited me to do, I called this morning on Lady Davy. I found her in her parlour, working on a dress, the contents of her basket strewed about the table, and looking more like home than anything since I left it. She is small, with black eyes and hair and a very pleasant face, an uncommonly sweet smile; and when she speaks, has much spirit and expression in her countenance. Her conversation is agreeable, particularly in the choice and variety of her phraseology, and has more the air of eloquence than I have ever heard before from a lady. But, then, it has something of the appearance of formality and display, which injures conversation. Her manner is gracious and elegant; and though I should not think of comparing her to Corinne, yet I think she has uncommon powers.'

The honeymoon, the greater part of which was spent in Scotland, was scarcely over, before, in the month of June, he dedicated to his wife his 'Elements of Chemical Philosophy,' as a pledge of his continued ardour for science, as well as of his love for her; and Davy returned to his scientific pursuits. In the following November he nearly lost his eyesight, whilst performing the dangerous experiment of effecting the combination of azote, as nitrogen was then called, and chlorine. He soon, however, completely recovered the use of his eyes, and took a trip into his native county; fishing and geologizing on the way. It was about this time also that Davy made the first experiments in electric lighting, by producing the voltaic arc by the use of carbon; the discovery was improved by Foucault, who substituted retort-carbon for wood-charcoal. (Comte du Moncel's 'L'Eclairage Electrique,' Paris, 1880.)