Your's with unfeigned affection,
H. Davy.
Mr. Underwood transmitted to me the above letter with the following extract from his journal.
"On the 25th I went to Bristol, and on the 30th arrived at Mrs. Davy's at Penzance. On the 1st of August we set off on a pedestrian excursion, and proceeded along the edge of the cliffs, round the Land's End, Cape Cornwall, Saint Just, and Saint Ives, to Redruth, and thence back to Penzance.
"Two days afterwards we again started, and trudged along the shore to the Lizard. Kynance Cove had from the commencement of our intimacy been a daily theme of his conversation. No epithets were sufficiently forcible to express his admiration at the beauty of the spot: the enthusiastic delight with which he dwelt upon the description of the Serpentine rocks, polished by the waves, and reflecting the brightest tints from their surfaces, seemed inexhaustible, and when we had arrived at the spot he appeared absolutely entranced.
"During these excursions his conversation was most romantic and poetical. His views of Nature, and her sublime operations, were expressed without reserve, as they rapidly presented themselves to his imagination: they were the ravings of genius; but even his nonsense was that of a superior being."
At the village of Mullion, a little incident occurred, which evinced the existence of that gastronomic propensity which, in after years, displayed itself in a wider range of operations. The tourists had, on their road, purchased a fine large bass of a fisherman, with the intention of desiring the landlady to dress it. On arriving at the inn, Mr. Underwood retired into a room for the purpose of making some notes in the journal he regularly kept. Davy had disappeared. In the course of a few minutes a most tremendous uproar was heard in the kitchen, and the indignant vociferations of the hostess, which, even with all the advantages of Cornish recitative, was not of the most melodious description, became fearfully audible. Davy, it seems, had volunteered his assistance in making the sauce and stuffing for the aforesaid bass; and had he not speedily retreated, his services would have been rewarded, not according to the scientific practice of appending a string of letters to his name, but in conformity with the equally ancient custom of attaching a certain dishonourable addition to the skirts of his jacket.
I have observed that his letter to Mr. Underwood betrayed a tincture of Spinosism. It may be here remarked, that during the year 1801 he composed a poem, which he arbitrarily distinguished by that appellation, singularly opposed to the tenor of the sentiments. Through the kindness of Mr. Greenough I possess a copy of it in its original state, for it was subsequently altered, and published in a collection, edited by Miss Johanna Baillie; and still more recently, it underwent farther corrections, and was printed for private circulation in the form in which I shall here introduce it.
Lo! o'er the Earth the kindling spirits pour
The flames of life, that bounteous Nature gives;
The limpid dew becomes the rosy flower;