[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." "These amusements seemed to become more and more important in his estimation, as his health declined. It was affecting to observe the efforts he made to continue them with diminished strength. From being unable to walk without fatigue for many hours, he was, when he came to me in November 1826, obliged to have a pony to carry him to the field, from which he dismounted only on the certainty of immediate sport. In the following year, he could only take short and occasional rides to the covers, with his dogs around him, and his servant walking by his side and carrying his gun, but which I believe he never fired. "During this visit, he more than once observed, 'I do not wish to live, as far as I am personally concerned; but I have views which I could develope, if it pleased God to save my life, which would be useful to science and to mankind.'" Davy returned to town in December, and after an interval wrote the following letter: TO THOMAS POOLE, ESQ. Park Street, Grosvenor Square, Dec. 27, 1827. MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, I know no reason why I have not written to you. It has been my intention every day, and I have been every day prevented by the sense of want of power, which is so painful a symptom of my malady.