Youthful reminiscences, and circumstances connected with his family and friends, were the only objects which, at this period, occupied his thoughts, and afforded him any pleasure. No Swiss peasant ever sighed more deeply for his native mountains, than did Davy for the scenes of his early years. He entreated his nurse to convey to his friends his ardent wish to obtain some apples from a particular tree which he had planted when a boy; and, unlike Locke with his cherries, he had no power of controlling the desire by his reason, but remained in a state of restlessness and impatience until their arrival: at the same time, he expressed a wish to obtain several other objects, especially an ancient tea-pot, endeared to him by early associations. The following Minute appears on the Journals of the Institution:-- "December 7, 1807.--Mr. Davy having been confined to his bed for the last fortnight by a severe illness, the Managers are under the painful necessity of giving notice, that the Lectures will not commence until the first week in January next." The Course was, at the time stated, opened by the Reverend Mr. (now Dr.) Dibdin; and his introductory lecture was, by order of the Managers, printed "for the satisfaction of those proprietors who were not present." It thus commences:--"Before I solicit your attention to the opening of those Lectures which I shall have the honour of delivering in the course of the season, permit me to trespass upon it for a few minutes, by stating the peculiar circumstances under which this Institution is again opened; and how it comes to pass that it has fallen to me, rather than to a more deserving lecturer, to be the first to address you. "The Managers have requested me to impart to you that intelligence, which no one who is alive to the best feelings of human nature can hear without mixed emotions of sorrow and delight. "Mr. Davy, whose frequent and powerful addresses from this place, supported by his ingenious experiments, have been so long and so well known to you, has for these last five weeks been struggling between life and death;--the effects of those experiments recently made in illustration of his splendid discoveries, added to consequent bodily weakness, brought on a fever so violent as to threaten the extinction of life. Over him, it might emphatically be said, in the language of our immortal Milton, that ----'Death his dart Shook, but delayed to strike.'