"During the same visit, I remember his inherent love of the laboratory, if I may so express myself, being manifested in a manner which much interested me at the moment. On his visiting with me a gentleman in this neighbourhood, who had offered him his house, and who has an extensive philosophical apparatus, particularly complete in electricity and chemistry, he was fatigued with the journey, and as we were walking round the house very languidly, a door opened, and we were in the laboratory. He threw a glance around the room, his eyes brightened in the action, a glow came over his countenance, and he looked like himself, as he was accustomed to appear twenty years ago.
"You are aware that he was latterly a good shot, always an expert angler, and a great admirer of old Isaac Walton; and that he highly prided himself upon these accomplishments. I used to laugh at him, which he did not like; but it amused me to see such a man give so much importance to those qualifications. He would say, 'It is not the sport only, though there is great pleasure in successful dexterity,[109] but it is the ardour of pursuit, pure air, the contemplation of a fine country, and the exercise--all tend to invigorate the body, and to excite the mind to its best efforts.'
[109] Mr. Children has just communicated to me the following amusing anecdote, which may be adduced in illustration of the delight he took in that sporting dexterity to which he alludes in the above passage. Davy, with a party of friends, had been engaged for several hours in fishing for pike, but very unsuccessfully; our philosopher gave up the sport in despair, but his companions having determined to try some more propitious spots, left him to his contemplations. About an hour afterwards, Mr. Children, on returning to his friend, saw him at a distance seated upon a gate, and apparently lashing the air with his fishing-line. What could be his object? As soon as Mr. Children came sufficiently near to make a signal, Davy, by his gestures, earnestly entreated him to keep away, while he continued his mysterious motions. At length, however, Mr. Children's patience was exhausted, and he walked up to him. "Was ever any thing more provoking!" exclaimed Davy; "if you had only remained quiet another minute I should have caught him--it is most vexatious!" "Caught what?" asked Mr. Children. "A dragon-fly," (_Libellula_,) answered Davy. "During your absence I have been greatly amused by watching the feeding habits of that insect, and having observed the eagerness with which they snapped up the little '_midges_,' I determined to arm my hook with one, and I can assure you I have had no small degree of sport; and had it not been for your unwelcome intrusion, I should most undoubtedly have captured one of them."