BY SIR HUMPHRY DAVY, Bart. , Late President of the Royal Society . CASSELL & COMPANY, limited : LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK & MELBOURNE . 1889...

Humphry Davy was born at Penzance, in Cornwall, on the 17th of December, 1778, and died at Geneva on the 29th of May, 1829, at the age of fifty.  He was a philosopher who turned knowledge to wisdom; he was one of the foremost of our English men of science; and this book, written when he was dying, which makes Reason the companion of Faith, shows how he passed through the light of earth into the light of heaven. His father had a small patrimony at Varfell, in Ludgvan.  His mother had lost in earl

Prefixed to the First Edition, by Sir Humphry Davy’s Brother . As is stated in the Preface which follows, this work was composed during a period of bodily indisposition;—it was concluded at the very moment of the invasion of the Author’s last illness.  Had his life been prolonged, it is probable that some additions and some changes would have been made.  The editor does not consider himself warranted to do more than give to the world a faithful copy, making only a few omissions and a few verbal

Salmonia was written during the time of a partial recovery from a long and dangerous illness.  The present work was composed immediately after, under the same unfavourable and painful circumstances, and at a period when the constitution of the Author suffered from new attacks.  He has derived some pleasure and some consolation, when most other sources of consolation and pleasure were closed to him, from this exercise of his mind; and he ventures to hope that these hours of sickness may be not al

I passed the autumn and the early winter of the years 18-- and 18-- at Rome.  The society was, as is usual in that metropolis of the old Christian world, numerous and diversified.  In it there were found many intellectual foreigners and amongst them some distinguished Britons, who had a higher object in making this city their residence than mere idleness or vague curiosity.  Amongst these my countrymen, there were two gentlemen with whom I formed a particular intimacy and who were my frequent co

The same friends, Ambrosio and Onuphrio, who were my companions at Rome in the winter, accompanied me in the spring to Naples.  Many conversations occurred in the course of our journey which were often to me peculiarly instructive, and from the difference of their opinions generally animated and often entertaining.  I shall detail one of these conversations, which took place in the evening on the summit of Vesuvius, and the remembrance of which from its connection with my vision in the Colosæum

The same persons accompanied me in many journeys by land and water to different parts of the Phlegræan fields, and we enjoyed in a most delightful season, the beginning of May, the beauties of the glorious country which encloses the Bay of Naples, so rich, so ornamented with the gifts of nature, so interesting from the monuments it contains and the recollections it awakens.  One excursion, the last we made in southern Italy, the most important both from the extraordinary personage with whom it m

The impression made upon my mind by the stranger with whom we became acquainted at Pæstum was of the strongest and most extraordinary kind.  The memory of his person, his dress, his manners, the accents of his voice, and the tone of his philosophy, for a long while haunted my imagination in a most unaccountable manner, and even formed a part of my dreams.  It often occurred to me that this was not the first time that I had seen him; and I endeavoured, but in vain, to find some type or image of h

I had been made religious by the conversations of Ambrosio in Italy; my faith was strengthened and exalted by the opinions of the Unknown, for whom I had not merely that veneration awakened by exalted talents, but a strong affection founded upon the essential benefit of the preservation of my life owing to him.  I ventured, the evening after our visit to the cave of Adelsberg, to ask him some questions relating to his history and adventures.  He said, “To attempt to give you any idea of the form

During our stay in Illyria, I made an excursion by water with the Unknown, my preserver, now become my friend, and Eubathes, to Pola, in Istria.  We entered the harbour of Pola in a felucca when the sun was setting; and I know no scene more splendid than the amphitheatre seen from the sea in this light.  It appears not as a building in ruins, but like a newly erected work, and the reflection of the colours of its brilliant marble and beautiful forms seen upon the calm surface of the waters gave