of each other: the dying agonies of the surviving mother were sharpened by her reflecting on the forlorn condition in which her children would be left; for, although the Milletts were originally aristocratic and wealthy, the property had undergone so many subdivisions, as to have left but a very slender provision for the member of the family to whom she had united herself.
The affecting appeal which Mrs. Millett is said to have addressed to her sympathising friend, and medical attendant, was not made in vain: on her decease, Mr. Tonkin immediately removed the three children to his own house, and they continued under the guardianship of their kind benefactor, until each, in succession, found a home by marriage.
The eldest sister, Jane, was married to Henry Sampson, a respectable watchmaker at Penzance; the youngest, Elizabeth, to her cousin, Leonard Millett of Marazion; neither of whom had any family. The second sister, Grace, was married to Robert Davy, from which union sprang five children, two boys and three girls, the eldest being Humphry, the subject of our memoir, and the second son, John, now Dr. Davy, a Surgeon to the Forces, and a gentleman distinguished by several papers in the Philosophical Transactions.
Humphry Davy was nursed by his mother, and passed his infancy with his parents;[3] but his childhood, after they had removed from Penzance to reside on their estate at Varfell, was spent partly with them and partly with Mr. John Tonkin, who extended his disinterested kindness from the mother to all her children, but more especially to Humphry, who is said, when a child, to have exhibited powers of mind superior to his years. I have spared no pains in collecting materials for the illustration of the earlier periods of his history; as, to estimate the magnitude of an object, we must measure the base with accuracy, in order to comprehend the elevation of its summit.
He was first placed at a preparatory seminary kept by a Mr. Bushell, who was so struck with the progress he made, that he urged his father to remove him to a superior school.
It is a fact worthy, perhaps, of being recorded, that he would at the age of about five years turn over the pages of a book as rapidly as if he were merely engaged in counting the number of leaves, or in hunting after pictures; and yet, on being questioned, he could generally give a very satisfactory account of the contents. I have been informed by Lady Davy that the same faculty was retained by him through life, and that she has often been astonished, beyond the power of expression, at the rapidity with which he read a work, and the accuracy with which he remembered it. Mr. Children has also communicated to me an anecdote, which may be related in illustration of the same quality. Shortly after Dr. Murray had published his system of chemistry, Davy accompanied Mr. Children in an excursion to Tonbridge, and the new work was placed in the carriage. During the occasional intervals in which their conversation was suspended, Davy was seen turning over the leaves of the book, but his companion did not believe it possible that he could have made himself acquainted with any part of its contents, until at the close of the journey he surprised him with a critical opinion of its merits.
The book that engaged his earliest attention was "The Pilgrim's Progress," a production well calculated, from the exuberance of its invention, and the rich colouring of its fancy, for seizing upon the ardent imagination of youth. This pleasing work, it will be remembered, was the early and especial favourite of Dr. Franklin, who never alluded to it but with feelings of the most lively delight.
Shortly afterwards, he commenced reading history, particularly that of England; and at the age of eight years he would, as if impressed with the powers of oratory, collect together a number of boys in a circle, and mounting a cart or carriage that might be standing before the inn near Mr. Tonkin's house, harangue them on different subjects, and offer such comments as his own ideas might suggest.
He was, moreover, at this age, a great lover of the marvellous, and amused himself and his schoolfellows by composing stories of romance and tales of chivalry, with all the fluency of an Italian improvisatore; and joyfully would he have issued forth, armed cap-à-pié, in search of adventures, and to free the world of dragons and giants.
In this early fondness for fiction, and in the habit of exercising his ingenuity in creating imagery for the gratification of his fancy, Davy and Sir Walter Scott greatly resembled each other. The Author of Waverley, in his general preface to the late edition of his novels, has given us the following account of this talent. "I must refer to a very early period of my life, were I to point out my first achievement as a tale-teller; but I believe most of my old schoolfellows can still bear witness that I had a distinguished character for that talent, at a time when the applause of my companions was my recompense for the disgraces and punishments which the future romance-writer incurred for being idle himself, and keeping others idle, during hours that should have been employed on our tasks." Had not Davy's talents been diverted into other channels, who can say that we might not have received from his inventive pen a series of romantic tales, as beautifully illustrative of the early history of his native country as are the Waverley Novels of that of Scotland? for Cornwall is by no means deficient in elfin sprites and busy "piskeys;" the invocation is alone required to summon them from their dark recesses and mystic abodes.