We can scarcely picture to ourselves a being upon whom fortune ever showered more favours than upon Davy, during this golden period of his career. Independent in an honourable competence, the product of his genius and industry; resident in the centre of all scientific information and intelligence; every avenue of knowledge, and every mode of observation open to his unwearied intellect, he must have experienced a satisfaction which few philosophers have ever before felt,--the power of pursuing experimental research to any extent, and of commanding the immediate possession of all the means it might require, without the least regard either to cost or labour. What a contrast does this picture afford to that which has been too faithfully represented as the more usual fate of the philosopher and man of letters, and which exhibits little more than the unavailing struggles of genius against penury! Instead of a life consumed in fruitless expectation of patronage and reward, we behold Davy, in the full bloom of reputation, courted by all whom rank, talent, or station, had rendered conspicuous. His life flowed on like a pure stream, under a sky of perpetual sunshine,--not a gust ruffled its surface, not a cloud obscured its brightness. In the morning, he was the sage interpreter of Nature's laws; in the evening, he sparkled in the galaxy of fashion; and not the least extraordinary point in the character of this great man, was the facility with which he could cast aside the cares of study, and enter into the trifling amusements of society.--"_Ne otium quidem otiosum_," was the exclamation of Cicero; and it will generally apply to the leisure of men actively engaged in the pursuits of science; but Davy, in closing the door of his laboratory, opened the temple of pleasure. When not otherwise engaged, his custom was to play at billiards, frequent the theatre, or read the last new novel. In ordinary cases, the genius of evening dissipation is an arrant Penelope; but Davy, on returning to his morning labours, never found that the thread had been unspun during the interruption. The following anecdote is well calculated to illustrate that versatility of talent of which I have frequently spoken, as well as the power he possessed of abstracting himself, without detriment, from the most elaborate investigations. A friend of the late Mr. Tobin called upon him at the Institution, and found him deeply engaged in the laboratory; their conversation turned upon "The Honey Moon," which was to be brought out on the following evening.[46] No sooner had Davy heard that, although pressing applications had been made to several of the poets of the day, a Prologue had not yet been written, than he instantly quitted the laboratory, and in two hours produced that which was recited on the occasion by Mr. Bartley, and printed in the first edition of the comedy. I insert it in this place.