Mary's broth. Of course, I could not digest much more of

the soup."

Again, the year after,

London, Jan. 29th, 1810. "You may perhaps have heard from Dr. Henry that I have been nearly as ill as formerly, that I have been nearly poisoned since I came here. I had been about three weeks when I discovered it was the porter which produced the effects.* I have not had a drop since, and have never had any more of the symptoms.

"I have had a pretty arduous work, as you may imagine, having had three lectures to prepare each week; to attend two others, and to visit and to receive visits occasionally. besides. I find myself just now in the focus of the great and learned of the metropolis. On Saturday evening I had a discussion with Dr. Wollaston, and a party at Mr. Lowry's. On Sunday evening, last night, I was introduced to Sir Joseph Banks, at his house, by Sir John Sebright. Sir Joseph said, 'Oh, Mr. Dalton, I know him very well; glad to see you; hope you are well, &c.' There were forty or more of the leading scientific characters present, many of whom were my previous acquaintance, such as Sir Charles Blagden, Drs. Wollaston, Marcet, Berger, and Roget; Messrs. Cavendish, Davy, Tennant, Lawson, &c.; we had conversation for about an hour or more in Sir Joseph's library, when the company dispersed. To judge. from the number of carriages at the door, it might be a court levee.

"I paid a visit, in company with Dr. Lowry, to Dr. Rees, the other day; we spent an hour in conversation in the doctor's library. The doctor seems a worthy philosopher of the old school; his evening lucubrations are duly scented with genuine Virginia.”

* Lead had been found in it. This was probably owing to the use of lead pumps, a very common and dangerous custom, whether used as is commonly the case in public-houses, at least in this neighbourhood, to pump the malt liquor from the cellar, or for water for domestic supply.

Sir Humphrey Davy's opinion of Dalton, given in Dr. Henry's recent life, seems to contain rather harsh and unpleasant expressions, and I think scarcely fair suggestions. He could not have known the man otherwise than externally; nor does he seem to have known well the history of his discoveries. I shall allude to it more when speaking of Dalton as a philosopher; as to the man I only collect the opinions of others, and give a few examples of his character from his letters and actions. His brother, Dr. Davy, also says, "Mr. Dalton's aspect and manner were repulsive. There was no gracefulness belonging to him. His voice was harsh and brawling; his gait stiff and awkward; his style of writing and conversation dry and almost crabbed. In person he was tall, bony, and slender. (1809-10.) He never could learn to swim; on investigating this circumstance he found that his specific gravity was greater than that of water, and he mentioned this in his lectures on natural philosophy in illustration of the capability of different persons for attaining the art of swimming." But he adds, "independence and simplicity of manner and originality were his best qualities. Though in comparatively humble circumstances he maintained the dignity of the philosophical character." So many "best" qualities are seldom found in one man.

This word brawling was unintelligible to me until Dr. Schunck suggested drawling, as the true meaning. Brawling is unintelligible in connection with such a retiring man. Dr. Schunck says, 66 no one who saw him could call his appearance repulsive. I recollect him from my childhood and never saw it; and children are very susceptible to repulsive appearance in people. He was, I think, good looking; only his deep set eyes were against him." At any rate, there is no connection between brawling and Dalton. When I saw him his mind was quite broken down; but I agree with my friend, Dr. Schunck, that he was agreeable to look upon.

A writer in the Quarterly Review, Vol. XCVI., who had heard him lecture, gives him an unfavourable manner, saying "his voice was harsh, indistinct, and unemphatical, and he was singularly wanting in the language and power of illustration, needful to a lecturer on these high matters of philosophy, and by which Davy and Faraday have given such lustre to their discoveries. Among other instances of his odd appropriation of epithets, we recollect that in treating of oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, &c., those great elements which pervade all nature, he generally spoke of them as 'these articles,' describing their qualities with far less earnestness than a London linen draper would shew in commending the very different articles which lie on his shelves."

As to his style of writing, it is before us to judge. These letters shew nothing crabbed. The specimens of scientific writing given are equally free from such blame; and although there are different styles in his own works, I consider that generally his scientific writing is agreeable to read, nor is it by any means more "dry" than the average scientific memoirs.

Still we must consider that his appearance or manner was much against him in the eyes of some persons, the evidence being so strong, but the following letter will show that he was not of a repulsive cast of mind. These letters, from which I quote, were written home to Mr. Johns for himself and the family to read, as may be supposed, and shew, instead of a repulsive, an exceedingly amiable disposition. He was lecturing at Birmingham, and he writes :—

March 17th, 1825.

"We left the Bridgewater Arms, three middle sized and middle aged gentlemen in a small coach; there was room for a thin lady opposite my left hand friend, and I was beginning to think he might have the advantage of me in two respects. We drove down to the Palace Inn, and there I saw a corpulent old gentleman set off towards us much in the shape of a sack of malt; he came up in as straight a line

as he well could, and having partly entered, my companion called out 'oh!' with a long continuance. His toes were unfortunately the sufferers. The old man had not yet got

settled in his contracted berth before he informed us that he thought the coach a very small one. Indeed, his hat nearly touched the roof when sitting. At Stockport, changed horses, a famous lusty woman having brought them out, her husband (I suppose) having been up late the night before. The old gentleman told us a friend of his travelling in Wales having occasion to call at an inn to breakfast, found the housemaid busy rubbing the irons; she left them, and took his horse to stable. Where is the hostler, said he, that was here the last time I was this way? 'I was him,' said the girl. The landlord told his guest he never had a better hostler in his life than she was. We got near to Macclesfield, when my opposite companion, who did not know England as well as Ann says she knows Europe, asked his fellow-traveller whether we were in Staffordshire or Warwickshire. * At Newcastle our geographer remarked that there were two Newcastles at a great distance from each other; Newcastleupon-Tyne,' says he, is that in England or in Scotland?' After a short pause, the maltster says, it is in Cumberland, I think.' 'No. In Northumberland,' said my left hand friend.

I have been here (Birmingham), at one of the show rooms, to see the new lions, since I was last here. There are many good things; amongst other things, they have got new banisters, for stairs. What is it. Mahogany? No. Lignum vitæ? No. Ebony? No. No sort of wood, nor metal either, it is glass, cut glass."

London, May 15th, 1825.

"I agreed to go with Mr. Lowe, one of the superintendents of the gas works, whom I was previously acquainted with, to spend the night. It is at Highgate, four miles on the Northroad; we took a stage at nine, and arrived in about forty

K

minutes; after walking up a steep hill, we came to most delightfully situated houses, on an eminence down on the city and the adjacent country. W night or by day it is delightful; at night, we see the the city forming a circle around us; the general effe curious. A darkish cloud hung over the whole foregro lights from London illuminated that part over it, this side it was dark, and on the other side dark, so a the appearance of a luminous cloud, interposed bety black clouds. The night was still and fine, and promised me I should hear the nightingale; for one sung every night from a grove, 100 yards below hi We smoked our segars till twelve, then looked listened; all silent, no nightingale. We went to be three, I was awoke by the melodious song of the nigh which continued, without any interruption, till four Soon after three I also heard the second and third best birds that we have, according to Mr. Blackwall, and t or nightingale, all singing together. My bedroom fronted the S.E. In the morning, at eight, I took the blind string with one hand, and put my other opposite side to help it up, as usual, with most othe to my surprise it spun up to the top of the window of accord, in a moment, and such a view as I never wi presented itself, except at St. Cloud, near Paris. For mile before me rose the tops of trees, from a beautiful belonging to Mrs. Coutts, her house chimneys poppi on the right; over the tops of the trees the country pre itself, interspersed with houses, and beyond, London w spires; St. Paul's dome, like Helvellyn, right in the the river, the Kent hills over London, &c., &c., th shining clear, the birds singing, &c., &c. Quite at th of my window, a kind of verandah, entwined with shru low, about 100 yards square of descending ground, so co with shrubs as to hold two or three shady seats, and